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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4000f4a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65844 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65844) diff --git a/old/65844-0.txt b/old/65844-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b9518a2..0000000 --- a/old/65844-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14422 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Flag of the Adventurer, by Sydney C. -Grier - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Flag of the Adventurer - -Author: Sydney C. Grier - -Illustrator: A. Pearse - -Release Date: July 15, 2021 [eBook #65844] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG OF THE ADVENTURER *** - - - - [image: images/img_fp.jpg - caption: “GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.”] - - - - -The -Flag of the Adventurer - -BY -SYDNEY C. GRIER -AUTHOR OF -‘THE WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,’ ‘THE STRONG HAND,’ -ETC., ETC. - - -_WITH FRONTISPIECE BY A. PEARSE_ - - -(_First in the Modern East series_) - - -“When glimmers down the riotous wind -The flag of the Adventurer” - - -William Blackwood and Sons -Edinburgh and London -1921 -_ALL RIGHTS RESERVED_ - - - - - CONTENTS. - - I. MAJOR AND MRS AMBROSE - II. THE RIFT IN THE LUTE - III. COLONEL BAYARD’S BURDEN - IV. A LUCKLESS DAY - V. THE SEAL OF SOLOMON - VI. ENTER THE ADVENTURER - VII. THE OLD ORDER CHANGES - VIII. TOO CLEVER BY HALF - IX. DINNER AT THE GENERAL’S - X. A CONTEST OF WITS - XI. DEEDS, NOT WORDS - XII. AN ERROR OF JUDGMENT - XIII. A LAST EFFORT - XIV. OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN-- - XV. --INTO THE FIRE - XVI. THE MORROW OF VICTORY - XVII. SUPPORTED ON BAYONETS - XVIII. PLUCK AND LUCK - XIX. THE SECOND ROUND - XX. IF SHE WILL, SHE WILL - XXI. WELL AND TRULY LAID - XXII. THE BELLE AND THE BAUBLE - XXIII. BRIAN TO THE RESCUE - XXIV. A SORE STRAIT - XXV. USE AND WONT - - - - - The Flag of the Adventurer. - - CHAPTER I. - MAJOR AND MRS AMBROSE. - -“/At/ last!” murmured Eveleen Ambrose with heartfelt relief, gaining -the unsteady deck by dint of a frantic clutch at her husband’s arm, -and cannoning helplessly against an unfortunate man who happened to be -standing near the head of the ladder. “Oh, I beg your pardon!” as he -staggered wildly and recovered himself, with a look of mortal offence -on his face; “I am so sorry--I----” - -“Steady!” said her husband sharply, retrieving her from an -unintentional rush across the deck, and setting her up in a corner. -“What’s the matter with you--eh?” - -“The matter?” Eveleen’s Irish mind was so unhappily constituted that -it saw humour where none was visible to others. She began to laugh -weakly. “The matter? Oh, nothing at all, of course!” - -“Hysterics now, I suppose.” Richard Ambrose’s voice was rough. - -“I am _never_ hysterical!” indignantly. “But after four days and -nights of being tossed about like a cork in that cabin down there, -till I know the feel of every inch of the floor and ceiling of it--and -hard enough they are, I can tell you!--mayn’t I have your gracious -leave to be just a little weeshy bit shaky?” - -“Exaggeration is not wit,” he growled. “You have my free leave to feel -as you like, provided it don’t make you go about knocking people -down.” - -Tears--never very far from laughter in Irish eyes--rose rebelliously, -and Eveleen turned quickly to gaze at the shore whose first appearance -she had hailed with so much joy. There was nothing particularly -attractive about the long line of mud-coloured coast backed by low -mud-coloured hills, beyond a wide--still horribly wide--waste of -tumbling waters; but it was land, blessed solid land! The man against -whom she had cannoned spoke suddenly--she had the instant idea that he -had been trying to make up his mind whether the circumstances -warranted his addressing her without an introduction. - -“The fact is, ma’am, ladies have no business in these steamboats. The -cabin may have seemed uncommon incommodious to you, but in order that -you and your companions might enjoy it, four of the gentlemen on board -had no cabin at all.” - -“Oh!” in dismay. “But ’twas not for you to tell me that!” she flashed -out at him. - -“I had a reason, ma’am--to convince you that you should not be here.” - -“And pray, sir, what other way would we poor females get to -Khemistan?” - -“My point precisely, ma’am.” He spoke under difficulties, swaying to -and fro and holding fast to the rail. “Khemistan is no place for -European females--nor will be for years to come. But when charming -ladies take it into their pretty heads to go there, what is poor Hubby -to do? ‘My dear, believe me, I can’t take you with me.’ ‘Oh, but you -will, won’t you?’ ‘Quite impossible, my dear.’ ‘Ah, but you can do it -if you like, I know. And you must.’ And he does--naturally.” - -Richard Ambrose chuckled disagreeably, and the colour rose in his -wife’s cheeks. “It’s a bachelor y’are, sir, by your own confession,” -she said sweetly to the stranger. “No married man would dare to draw -such a picture. The best I can wish you is that you may find how true -it is!” She meant to end with a little contemptuous curtsey, but the -moment she loosed her hold of the shawl over her head, the wind caught -it and hurled it full in the stranger’s face. This time he did lose -his footing, and went slipping and sliding across the deck till he was -brought up by the bulwarks. - -“One for you, Crosse!” cried Richard Ambrose loudly, and holding his -wife with one hand, secured the loose end of shawl and tucked it in -with the other. “Can’t you look after your own fallals?” he demanded. -“It ain’t enough to make out that you wanted to come and I couldn’t do -without you--eh?” - -“I did want to come,” persisted Eveleen stoutly. “And pray would you -have me tell people y’are bringing me here for a punishment because -you can’t find a keeper in Bombay to look after me?” - -“Pray remember you are not a child,” he said--so coldly that she grew -red again, and moved as far from him as the necessity of submitting to -his protecting arm would allow. But it was difficult to maintain an -attitude of dignified displeasure in the circumstances. - -“Why, we are anchoring already!” she cried in dismay a moment later. -Her husband smiled superior. - -“Precisely, my dear. Now you will have an opportunity of experiencing -the full pleasure of landing at Bab-us-Sahel. It might be worse, -however, for the tide is fairly high.” - -Privately Eveleen wondered how low water could possibly make the -landing worse, when the passengers and their luggage had been -transferred from the rolling steamer to an equally unsteady tug, and -thence into large open boats, in which the water seemed terribly -near--and actually was, as she discovered on finding the wet mounting -higher and higher up her skirts. They were to land at a pier, she -knew, which was comforting, but alas! there was another transhipment -before reaching it, this time into light canoes, since the boats drew -too much water to enter the creek in which it stood. Dazed, shaken, -and sea-sick, Eveleen had no pride left. With closed eyes, she leaned -her swimming head against her husband’s shoulder as they came into -smoother water, and told herself that this misery had lasted so long -she would not be surprised if the tide had gone out. What would they -do then? she speculated in a detached kind of way--change into some -other kind of craft, or paddle up and down and dodge the rollers until -the flow? - -“There’s Bayard waiting to meet us!” said her husband sharply. She -opened one eye weakly, and discerned figures on the pier. - -“‘The celebrated Colonel Bayard!’” she quoted in a dreamy whisper, and -shut it again. - -“But not Mrs Bayard!” Richard was evidently injured. - -“Perhaps--the sight of--this sea--makes her--ill. I would -not--wonder,” murmured Eveleen. - -“Nonsense, my dear! Considering my friendship with Bayard, and the -kindness she professed towards you when she heard----” - -“Her husband maybe teased her--to come--so she wouldn’t,” and even in -her misery Eveleen was conscious of triumph. It was something to have -reduced Richard to speechless indignation, were it but for a moment. - -“Halloo, Ambrose! Glad to see you, my dear fellow!” The words sounded -startlingly near, and looking up quickly, she saw a small stoutish -dark-moustached officer hanging perilously on what looked like a -ladder just above them. As the canoe rocked this way and that with the -motion of the waves, he seemed to be performing the wildest acrobatic -feats, as though it were the pier and not the boat that rose and fell. -She closed her eyes again hopelessly. - -“Your poor wife overcome by all this landing business? I don’t wonder. -Lift her up, man. Now, ma’am, give me your hand, and we’ll have you on -firm ground in no time.” - -The deep commanding voice mastered even her helpless lassitude, and -she looked up into the kindest eyes she had ever seen. Her hand was -seized in a strong clasp, and somehow--between Richard and Colonel -Bayard--she was hoisted up the ladder before she had time to notice -with horror how very rickety it was. - -“‘Firm ground!’” she said reproachfully when she reached the top, for -the pier seemed to be swaying every way at once, and between its -sun-warped timbers the water was disconcertingly visible. - -“In a moment, in a moment!” said Colonel Bayard soothingly, as though -speaking to a child. “I brought my wife’s palanquin for you, but I had -not realised how bad the landing would be. Would you prefer to wait -here while I have it fetched?” - -“Indeed I would not--not here!” said Eveleen with a shudder, and -supported by the two men, she stumbled uncertainly along the pier. - -“I trust Mrs Bayard ain’t ill?” said Richard. - -“You could answer that better than I, my good fellow, for you must -have passed her on your way up from Bombay. I had to send her down by -the next steamer after you had started. So end my hopes of making a -home up here. Heigh-ho!” - -He gave a great sigh, and Eveleen looked up at him sympathetically. -Not noticing that they had come to the end of the pier, she stumbled -wildly in the loose sand, and fell. The Resident had her up again in a -moment. - -“My dear lady, forgive me!” he cried, in deep contrition. “I fear -Khemistan is giving you a sorry welcome.” - -“Ah, but think how I’ll be adoring the place when I fall on my knees -at the first sight of it!” she said, laughing feebly, while her -husband--in awful silence--did his best to brush the wet sand from her -gown. - -“That’s the spirit!” said Colonel Bayard approvingly. “Mrs Ambrose is -cut out for the frontier, Richard. Now, ma’am!” - -He was handing her into the waiting _palki_, while she looked -longingly at the ponies waiting for the two men. If only there were -one for her! But Colonel Bayard would probably be scandalised, and -Richard certainly would, if she proposed to ride through the town on a -man’s saddle, with a stirrup thrown over to serve as pommel. - -“The many times I’ve done it at home!” she lamented to herself. “And -sure this place might be in Ireland, only that it’s brown instead of -green.” - -But she settled herself meekly on the cushions, and closed her eyes, -that the swaying of the _palki_ might not recall too vividly the -motion of the steamer. She was not losing much, she told herself, for -the inhabitants of Bab-us-Sahel appeared to live either in mud-heaps -or within high mud walls, both windowless, and there was not a tree to -be seen. She must have gone to sleep before very long, for she woke -with a start when the reed blind was drawn aside, and Colonel Bayard’s -face appeared in the doorway--a sepoy guard standing to attention -behind him. - -“Welcome to Government House, Mrs Ambrose! Let me say as the Spaniards -do, ‘This house is yours, ma’am.’ Turn it upside down if you like, and -do me the favour of chivying the servants as much as you please. My -wife always declares I spoil ’em when she ain’t with me.” - -“Ah, but tell me now--will you let me ride your horses?” demanded -Eveleen, pausing as he helped her out. The mud-built town was below -them now, for they were at the top of a long slope. An immensely wide -road with ostentatiously white houses on either side, so rigidly -spaced that they looked like tents in a camp, led down to a muddy -swamp, and by a causeway across it to the mud-heap which was -Bab-us-Sahel. Some attempt had been made by most of the householders -to enclose their domains with a hedge, but the only available plant -seemed to be a weak and straggly kind of cactus, which left more gaps -than it filled. Government House was mud-built and white-washed like -the rest, long and narrow and surrounded by verandahs, and boasted an -imposing flagstaff in front, together with a circular enclosure, -intended as a flower-bed, in which grew a few debilitated shrubs. -Glaring sunshine and shadeless sand were the salient features of the -scene from which Eveleen withdrew her eyes as she looked up at her -host. - -“With all my heart, if I had any,” he responded genially. “But I’ll -confess I am a precious lazy fellow when there’s no hunting in -question. Bring me _khubber_ of a tiger, and I’ll ride all day and all -night to get at him, but here----! My dear ma’am, this respectable -elderly gentleman”--he indicated the pony from which he had just -dismounted--“represents my whole stable, and you can see by his figure -that he don’t get much to do.” - -“And such a galloping country!” Deep commiseration was in Eveleen’s -tone as she looked down the other side of the rise to the bare rolling -sandy plain. “I’ll have to wait till my own horses are landed, then, -before challenging you to a race.” - -“Mrs Ambrose is going to wake us all up, I see, Richard!” Colonel -Bayard beamed as he handed her into the house. He had to perfection -the gift of doing little things greatly, and Queen Victoria herself -could not have been ushered in with more _empressement_. “Now if -anything is not as you like it, ma’am, command me and all I have, I -beg of you. You won’t feel bound to show yourself at table if you -ain’t equal to it? Ambrose and I will devour our grub in solitude, -like a pair of uncivilised bachelors again.” - -“As if I’d allow that! Sure I’ll be there!” and Eveleen nodded -brightly as she disappeared under the curtain that hung before the -doorway of her room. Her mercurial spirits were recovering fast from -the gloom of the voyage. Everything was interesting, and therefore -cheerful--the new country, the unfamiliar house, this dear chivalrous -Colonel Bayard. What a shame it was that his wife had let herself be -sent away! “Sure I’d have stuck to him with teeth and claws!” she said -to herself, and broke into her ready laughter at the thought of the -inconvenience of such a devotion to its object. - -Several hours of healthy slumber left Eveleen almost restored to her -usual self, though still a little languid and pale. Her luggage had -arrived while she slept, and also her ayah, who was much less welcome. -Ketty was an elderly Goanese woman of vast experience and monumental -propriety, and Eveleen suspected that Richard Ambrose had chosen her -out to keep his erratic wife in order. Her last mistress had been the -lady of a Member of Council, and what Ketty did not know of the -manners and customs proper to ladies in high places was not worth -knowing. Mutely, but firmly, she indicated on all occasions what ought -to be worn, and also the appropriate style of hair-dressing, quite -regardless of the wishes of her Madam Sahib--the very word showed in -what high society she had moved, for in all but very lofty households -the English lady was still alluded to as the Beebee. But to-day -Eveleen’s reviving spirits led her to trample ruthlessly on Ketty. The -ayah had laid out a white gown, and it was summarily rejected. Eveleen -had all the Irishwoman’s love of easy old clothes, and in the open -trunk she caught sight of a beloved garment that had once been a -rather bright blue, but was now faded to a soft dull shade, the -proximity of which only a milky skin and Irish blue eyes could endure -with impunity. That dress she would wear and no other. - -“A stiff starchy thing like that white brilliant!” she was talking to -herself again, as she often did, since Ketty’s lack of response tried -her sorely after the companionable garrulity of Irish servants. “No, -I’ll be comfortable to-night--haven’t I earned it? Sure I’d be a -regular ghost in white, and why would I want to haunt poor Colonel -Bayard’s house before I’m dead?” Then severely, “Ayah, I said the -blue. So that’s done!” triumphantly. “And now what to wear with it? I -know what I’d like,” turning over the trinkets which Ketty, with an -aloof and reserved air--as of one who refused all responsibility for -such doings--laid before her, “and that’s you, you beauty. Isn’t it a -real match for my eyes y’are, as Uncle Tom said when he gave you to -me?” She took up a disc of flawed turquoise, some two inches across, -set in silver and hanging from a steel chain, and looked at it -affectionately, but put it down again. “No, Ambrose would have too -much to say about my childish taste for ‘something large and smooth -and round,’ and why would I provoke him when I needn’t? So we’ll be -quite proper and suitable, and wear his bracelet with his hair and his -portrait in it. Ah, my dear, what has happened you that you’d be so -changed since you gave me that?” This was added in a painful whisper, -but in a moment Eveleen had brushed the tears hastily from her eyes -and turned to the door, accepting impatiently the handkerchief with -which Ketty hurried after her. - -Colonel Bayard was the prince of hosts. He told Eveleen that were he -only a younger man, he would have a dozen duels on his hands the next -morning for depriving the rest of the European community, if only for -one day, of the honour of meeting her at supper--and all owing to his -thinking she might be fatigued, which he saw now was quite -unnecessary. Perhaps the voyage had been better than he feared. It -could have been worse, she assured him, and described its horrors -dramatically for his amusement and sympathy. - -“And there was a cross officer--oh, and his name _was_ Crosse!” she -laughed delightedly--“said that ladies had no business on board ship. -There’s a nasty wretch for you!” - -“Poor Crosse was uncommonly riled--had no cabin all the voyage,” -explained her husband. “But he got precious little compassion from Mrs -Ambrose.” - -“And he deserved none--did he, ma’am?” said Colonel Bayard heartily. -“Now I know why Crosse chose to go on at once and catch the steamer -starting for Qadirabad to-morrow evening. He was afraid he’d be hooted -out of decent society if it was known he had said such an atrocious -thing. But talking of steamers, Mrs Ambrose, don’t use up all your -adjectives too soon, or you’ll have none left for the river craft, and -the Bombay boats are palaces to ’em!” Precise people still talked -about “steamboats” in the early ’forties, but the word steamer had -established itself in familiar use, and Eveleen took it up promptly. - -“But what I want to know is, why wouldn’t you have better steamers, if -that’s your only way of getting about?” she demanded. “And tell me, -why wouldn’t you have a better landing-place here?” - -“Why should we?” Colonel Bayard bristled up unaccountably. “The place -ain’t ours.” - -“But sure it’s as good as ours!” - -“Not a bit of it. It’s entirely our own fault that we are here, and if -we set to work to improve the place, the people to whom it belongs -would suspect us of wanting to land more troops and take possession of -it--most naturally, in my opinion. Therefore I won’t have it touched. -It’s the same with the steamers. The people here don’t want ’em--don’t -share our craze for getting about quickly--and the landowners swear -the wash damages the river banks.” - -“That old codger Gul Ali Khan making bobbery about his _shikargah_ -again?” asked Richard Ambrose sympathetically, and thereafter the talk -became local and technical in the extreme, while Eveleen listened -fascinated. This was what she loved--and her husband would never talk -to her about his work, and was chary of affording information even -when she asked for it. Now he forgot her intrusive presence, and -talked simply and naturally, while she sat with her head a little on -one side and drank in admiringly what he said. - -Presently they were speaking of public affairs, and of the -Governor-General’s tardy permission to the punitive expedition against -Ethiopia to take--at its commander’s pleasure and on his -responsibility--a return route which might serve to bring home the -abiding nature of British power to a people hugging delicious memories -of a disaster which had shaken the white man’s prestige throughout -Asia. - -“They were saying at Bombay that Lord Maryport consulted old Lennox -before he consented--or at any rate that Lennox had given him the -advice,” said Richard. - -“Much more likely!” said Colonel Bayard quickly. “Well, he will always -have that to his credit, at any rate--that we were not left to be the -laughing-stock of the East. Oh, I have nothing against the old fellow, -provided he stays down where he is, and don’t come meddling up here.” - -“But don’t you like Sir Harry Lennox, Colonel Bayard?” asked -Eveleen--her tone suggesting that she did. - -“Don’t I say I have nothing against him, my dear lady? But there’s no -earthly reason for the Bombay C.-in-C. to come poking about in -Khemistan. It ain’t his to poke about in, for one thing.” - -“That little difficulty wouldn’t stop him,” said Ambrose drily. “You -should hear the Bombay people talk. He’s fluttering their dovecots for -’em, and no mistake.” - -“Oh, well, we all know there are plenty of dark corners that want -sweeping out, and he’s welcome to do it. Did you get a sight of him -when you were down there?” - -“He happened to be in the town, so I went to pay my respects. The -queerest old ruffian you ever saw--black as a nigger, with a beak like -any old Jew in the bazar, and whiskers streaming every way at once.” - -“It’s to hide the scar he got at Busaco he wears them long,” broke in -Eveleen indignantly. “He has been severely wounded seven times--it’s -covered with scars he is entirely.” - -“And would feel himself amply repaid if he knew Mrs Ambrose kept count -of ’em, I’ll be bound,” said Colonel Bayard gallantly. “Is the old -General a friend of yours, ma’am?” - -“He is, indeed. At least, I met him when I was at Mahabuleshwar, and -he was very kind. He might have been an Irishman.” - -“Really? Well, they say that, thanks to being born in Ireland, he has -all the Irish vices without a drop of Irish blood in his veins.” - -“Mrs Ambrose is Irish--you may not be aware----” broke in Major -Ambrose hastily. - -“My dear lady, forgive me!” Colonel Bayard’s gesture of contrition -would have disarmed a heart of stone. “What have I said--anything to -wound----?” - -“Not a bit of it!” Eveleen flashed back at him. “We are not wild -Irish, don’t you know--the tame kind. We were always taught to behave -nicely and try to be English.” - -“Mrs Ambrose would jest on her deathbed, I believe,” said her husband, -rather uncomfortably. - -“_Absit omen!_” Colonel Bayard looked quickly at Eveleen to see -whether the words had hurt her, but she smiled back with twinkling -eyes. - -“Now you see what Ambrose is in private life--always talking about -deathbeds and the poorhouse and cheerful things of that sort. There! -I’ve forgotten again. The poorhouse is a solemn subject, and not to be -mentioned in the same breath with a joke.” - -She glanced with mock apology at her husband, but there was a touch of -defiance in the tone, and Colonel Bayard hastened to smooth matters -over. “Well, ma’am, I have forgot what it was I said--though I’m sure -you remember it--but you’ll oblige me by considering it unsaid. I’ll -swear Sir Harry Lennox is the greatest hero since Achilles if that -will please you--provided he keeps away from Khemistan.” - -“Ah, but why?” with poignant reproach. “If he comes, he’ll be bringing -Brian with him--my brother.” - -“My dear, what nonsense are you talking?” interjected her husband. She -drew back a little. - -“It was nonsense, of course. Why would he come at all? But if he did -come--why, Sir Harry loves his Irishmen, as everybody knows.” - -“Still I hope he won’t bring ’em here. We want no more British troops -in Khemistan, Mrs Ambrose. When we came here three years ago it was -doing one injustice in order to do another. We wanted to use Khemistan -as a stepping-stone to get at Ethiopia, and when we had done it we -refused to go away. We forced a treaty upon the Khans, and we kept -this place. Do you wonder that the sight of more redcoats would -convince ’em that we meant to take the whole country?” - -“I’m crushed! I’m crushed!” she held up her hands suppliantly. “But -please, _I_ don’t want to take the whole country--nor any of it, -except perhaps a paddock big enough to put up some jumps in.” - -“How can you be so childish, my dear?” demanded her husband -impatiently, but Colonel Bayard bent his head with a deferential -gesture. - -“No, my dear Ambrose, I am justly rebuked. As Mrs Ambrose sees, I am -liable to grow improperly warm on this subject. But she will pardon me -when she learns the nature of my charge here. I stand as guardian, -ma’am, to the entire ruling family, and I swear I love ’em as if they -were my own children.” - -“The whole lot of ’em--from frowsy old Gul Ali down to little fat -Hafiz-Ullah,” assented Richard. - -“Your husband may laugh at me, ma’am, but I swear he values the -friendship of my dear Khans as much as I do.” - -“Do I? Well, you know my opinion,” said Ambrose dispassionately. “Good -sportsmen, most of ’em, but precious tough customers.” - -“Only where they have been wrongly handled----” and off the two men -went again into a discussion of the character, public and private, of -the Khans of Khemistan. The house seemed to present a bewildering -complexity of uncles and brothers and nephews, but Eveleen gathered -that Gul Ali Khan, the eldest brother--or uncle?--was the acknowledged -head of a confederacy of rulers, though the position would not -necessarily descend to his children, but to the eldest male member of -the family who happened to be alive at his death. The arrangement -seemed to have its temptations for enterprising young Khans not -overburdened with scruples, and Colonel Bayard was persuaded that on -Gul Ali’s death there would be a tussle for the chiefship between his -brother, Shahbaz Khan, and his son, Karimdâd. But when he had reached -this interesting point, he suddenly awoke again to Eveleen’s presence. -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, you must be bored to death! Pardon me.” - -“I love listening to it,” she assured him truthfully, but she rose and -collected handkerchief and fan. If only he would disregard her -presence as completely as he did that of the silent statuesque -servants behind the chairs, how much she might learn of this new life -to which she had come! There was a touch of reproach in her manner as -she passed him, and he saw it. Mrs Ambrose interested him. What could -be the reason of the evident coolness between her and her husband? he -asked himself, as he looked after the graceful figure with its pale -draperies, and the crown of dark hair, insecurely fastened, as it -appeared, with a high Spanish comb. - -“What can it be?” he wondered as he returned slowly to his place, -remembering the obvious wrath and disquiet with which Richard Ambrose -had asked for leave to Bombay on urgent private affairs, and the -embarrassment with which he had requested permission to bring his wife -back with him if necessary. “Quite a suitable age for Ambrose--I was -afraid he might have got caught by a schoolgirl; and must have been -uncommonly pretty a few years ago--is so now, indeed. Most elegant -woman, and very agreeable--really charming manners--and fond of -him----” - -It had all passed through his mind while he turned from the door and -the servants were withdrawing noiselessly, and in his impulsive way he -stopped and laid his hand on Ambrose’s shoulder. - -“You and I are old friends, my boy--let me say one word. I don’t know -what tales you may have heard when you rushed off to Bombay, but -believe me, they were lies. Your wife is a good woman--if ever I have -met one--and she adores you.” - -Ambrose laughed, not very pleasantly. “You are agitating yourself -unnecessarily,” with some stiffness. “I am quite aware my wife adores -me--worse luck! I mean she makes me a laughing-stock in company,” he -added hastily. - -“Many a man would give a good deal to be made a laughing-stock in that -way,” a little sternly. “But why, then----?” - -“Money, my good sir--nothing but money! She was ruining me. I swear to -you, I should have been broke in another year of it.” - -“The ladies must always be buying pretty clothes, bless ’em! And a -fine creature like that----! But if you explained----” - -“It was not clothes,” resentfully. “The difficulty with Mrs Ambrose is -to induce her to wear clothes suited to her position. But what do you -say to her paying the debts of the young scamp of a brother she -mentioned, who is playing the fool with the best in an Irish -regiment?” - -“That I should have a word to say to the brother before visiting his -sins on the sister.” - -“I should like you to try it, and see how much Mrs Ambrose would allow -you to say! And what do you think of her rebuilding the stables of the -bungalow--a hired bungalow, mind you--I took for her? and saying that -in Ireland they kept the horses warm and dry, however poorly they -themselves were lodged?” - -“An amiable weakness, surely?” - -“Mere childishness, believe me. She has no more idea of the value of -money than an infant in arms! When it’s there she spends it, and when -it ain’t she writes chits! She would buy anything--a mangy starved -pony, and vow it was an Arab, if you please!” - -“And it was a common bazar tat?” - -“Well,” reluctantly, “now that the beast’s bones ain’t coming through -its skin, there’s a look of blood about it, I admit. But----” - -“Trust an Irishwoman’s eye for a horse! But seriously, my dear fellow, -to what better use can you put your money than allow your goodwife to -make herself happy by spending it? I know if mine would do me the -honour----” - -“Ah, it’s the other way with you, I know. But for Mrs Bayard’s -prudence, you would leave Khemistan a poorer man than you entered it.” - -“She would tell you it will be so in any case,” said Colonel Bayard -ruefully. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - THE RIFT IN THE LUTE. - -/But/ if a difference about money was the immediate cause of the -strained relations between Major Ambrose and his wife, no one would -have denied more vehemently than Eveleen herself that it was the -beginning of their estrangement. That had happened long ago--even, so -she sometimes thought, before their marriage. This might seem an Irish -way of putting it, but at times she would tell herself that she must -have been blind not to see there was something wrong with Richard -then, though again the idea would look absolutely absurd. For why -should he have married her unless he wanted her as she did him? She -would never have lifted a finger to hold him had he wished to be free! -She raged against him a little now as she stood solitary in the middle -of the absent Mrs Bayard’s drawing-room, seeing nothing of her -surroundings. If he must be sarcastic and cross, why try to humiliate -her in the presence of a stranger, instead of keeping his horrid -remarks till they were alone together, and she could answer them as -they deserved? There was little of the patient Griselda about Eveleen -Ambrose. - -“Such an English room!” Her wrath was suddenly diverted--though rather -to the general atmosphere of bleak tidiness than to poor Mrs Bayard’s -treasured “Europe” furniture--and she shuddered. “Sure I’ll choke -here!” She fled to the verandah. “Ah, now!” and she stood spellbound -by the wonderful moonlight shining on a limitless sea that washed the -very hill-top on which the house stood. A moment’s reflection assured -her that the sea was a thick mist enshrouding the town and the -low-lying land about it, and hiding the mud and dust and crudeness -which had been so painfully evident by day, and she dropped into a -chair to watch it, for there were little eddies which looked exactly -like moving water. She had not meant to stay in the drawing-room; her -intention had been to slip away to bed, leaving an excuse with the -servants for her host’s benefit, but it was so peaceful here, and she -needed a little mental refreshment before coping once more with Ketty. -But her meditations hardly brought her the peace she desired, for -almost at once she was involved again in the perpetual quest of When? -and How? and Why? - -It was twenty years since Richard Ambrose and Eveleen Delany had first -met in the hunting-field--and parted almost as soon. She was a pretty -girl riding as daringly as the conventions of the time and a fierce -old uncle would allow her, he one of the junior officers of the -regiment quartered in the neighbourhood. Two or three days’ hunting, a -scrambled meal or two taken in common, sandwiches shared in the -shelter of a deep lane--Richard’s fingers had actually trembled so -that he could scarcely untie the string, she remembered,--such a brief -and broken acquaintance to change the whole course of one life, if not -two! He had nothing but his pay and his debts, she was an orphan -adopted into an already overflowing and impoverished household in a -spirit of mingled improvidence and charity. To do him justice, Richard -had no hope of being allowed to marry her then, but he would pay his -debts with the sale of his commission, and transfer to the Indian -Service, and come or send for her as soon as he could see his way -clear. Had he been an Irishman the engagement might have been allowed, -but old General Delany discerned a calculating and parsimonious spirit -in his anxious planning, and sent him about his business with slight -sympathy. To this day Eveleen could not think calmly of their parting. -Something of the old agony shook her again as she heard her own -voice--hoarse with the strain of trying to speak bravely for her -lover’s sake--assuring him again and again that she would wait any -length of time, five years, a hundred years, for ever, for him to -return and claim her. He had sworn to come back, sworn that her image -would be ever before his eyes until that blessed moment arrived; had -sobbed--Richard Ambrose sobbing!--as he tore him self away when they -kissed for the last time. Thus they parted--the boy setting his face -resolutely eastwards, with the safeguard of a high purpose in his -soul, the girl taking up the harder task of doing nothing in -particular. - -Those many, many years of waiting! Eveleen could not look back on them -dispassionately even now. She was again the girl who watched -feverishly for the ramshackle “ass’s cart” which conveyed the rural -post-woman on her rounds, who manœuvred for the privilege of asking -for letters at the post-office when the family drove into town. And -there never were any letters. Deeply in love as he was, Richard -Ambrose had been cut to the quick by General Delany’s contemptuous -dismissal, and registered a vow that he would never return until he -could confront the old man with abundant proof that he could keep -Eveleen in proper comfort. That time did not come. Things were -bitterly hard for the Company’s Army in time of peace. Its officers -were the unfailing victims of the constant demands from home for -economy and retrenchment, until no man remained with his regiment who -had influence to obtain civil employ. Richard Ambrose was uniformly -unfortunate. He had no influence, and a malign fate seemed to shut him -out of the little wars of the period--often lucrative enough. Once he -had been mauled out tiger shooting, and was in hospital; once, after -several unusually obstinate bouts of fever, he was an invalid in -Australia. But his was not one of the crack regiments, and the greater -part of his time was spent in one dull station or another, doing the -work of two or three seconded men as well as his own. Faithful alike -to his self-imposed vow and to General Delany’s commands, he never -wrote to Eveleen. - -Eveleen gave no sign of resenting his silence. When she refused one or -two good matches, her relatives were loud in scorn of her folly, but -by-and-by they arrived at the comfortable conviction that all was for -the best. Her cousins were marrying off or setting up homes of their -own, and the General was becoming increasingly difficult to live with. -It was really providential that the niece who owed him so much should -be available to ride with him, to keep house for him in the scrambling -style from which neither of them dreamed of departing, and in the long -evenings to take a hand at whist if other players were available, join -him in chess or backgammon if they were not, and at all times turn -away his wrath with cheerful--if not invariably soft--answers. If her -recompense seemed inadequate, there was Brian to be thought of--the -young brother for whose sake Eveleen would sometimes even attempt that -hardest of all tasks, saving money. “I would rob the mail for Brian!” -she declared once defiantly to her uncle, and thanks to her unceasing -efforts, Brian was given--and, urged tearfully by her, submitted to -receive--some sort of education, sufficient at any rate to enable him -to take advantage of the offer of an old comrade of the General’s to -attach him to his staff as a Volunteer, until he could obtain a -commission. It was a difficult business to supply the young -gentleman’s needs while he was expected to live as an officer on the -pay of a private, and the habits he picked up on the staff were not -exactly such as would conduce to his efficiency in a marching -regiment, but the day she first saw her boy in the uniform of the -990th Foot, Eveleen felt she could die happy. - -Perhaps the attainment of this ardent desire made her feel more like -Brian’s mother or aunt than his sister, but it was about this time -that Eveleen became aware she was growing old. Not in mind--she was -one of those who, far from growing old, never even really grow up--nor -in body, for she could last out a long day with the hounds as well as -most men, and skin and hair and eyes showed slight trace of the -process of time, but in the estimation of her little world. Nowadays -she would have been considered a girl still, but in her day to pass -the thirtieth birthday unmarried was to be stamped irrevocably as an -old maid, and she had done this five years ago. Other girls were -coming forward--real girls--and she found herself confronted with the -choice of ceding her place to them or holding it by mingled assurance -and main force, becoming in course of time “Old Miss Evie”--one of -those determined middle aged sportswomen whom English people regarded -as an eccentric and scandalous feature of Irish hunts. Eveleen laughed -and withdrew. Her choice was made easier by the complication of -diseases and old wounds which incapacitated the General, for ladies -did not hunt without male escort, and she would not tack herself to -any of his friends; but it was a bitter moment. Nor was it made easier -by the discovery that she was becoming an object of suspicion--or at -least mistrust--to her cousins and her cousins’ wives. To them, as to -all their class, money as money was nothing, but family possessions -were something to be clutched and held by fair means or foul. The idea -that Eveleen might be providing for herself--or her uncle providing -for her--at their future expense worked like poison in their brains, -leading them to lay ingenious conversational traps in the hope of -surprising the admission that the General had added a codicil to his -will, and to conduct furtive searches for household treasures which -they imagined to have disappeared. It was inevitable that when Eveleen -realised what was in their minds, she should resent it violently, and -for a whole day such a battle-royal raged as was spoken of with -respect among the servants ever after. Alone against the cousinhood, -she held her ground victoriously, swearing to leave the house there -and then unless all imputations were withdrawn and an ample apology -offered. Where she could have gone she knew no more than her cousins, -but she would have done it; and they realised the fact, and having no -desire to take up her burden, listened to the moderating counsels of -brothers and husbands, hovering in the background with insistent -murmurs of “Ah, well, then----” and “Sure, the creature----” But her -future was still a cause for anxiety, if not for suspicion. “Sure I -see ‘What’ll we do with poor Evie?’ in every eye that looks at me!” -she said once. - -And then Richard Ambrose came back. He had found his opportunity at -last. The Ethiopian adventure, which was the grave of so many -reputations, made his. He went into it an undistinguished captain, and -he came out a major and a C.B., whose resolute defence early in the -war of an all-important post on the line of communications had even -been heard of at home. He was wounded--but the present generation -would have hailed his wound as a “Blighty one”; it was just -sufficiently severe to induce the surgeons to advise a voyage home and -back before he took up the new post of Assistant Resident in Khemistan -which Colonel Bayard promised to keep open for him. Eveleen could -never quite decide whether she had been expecting him to return or -not. So many years had passed, and he had never sent her word or sign. -But one morning, as she sat in her saddle at the covert-side, a little -removed from the throng of cheery riders, watching the meet in which -she no longer took part, one figure detached itself from the rest. A -gentleman dismounted, and throwing the bridle to his servant, -approached her--a tall bronzed man, wearing the frogged blue coat -which was the recognised dress of officers in mufti, or as they called -it, “coloured clothes.” He raised his hat, and the years fell from -Eveleen. She was the girl of seventeen again, glowing with youth. - -“You have waited for me, Eveleen?” he asked, without any conventional -greeting, and she dropped the reins on her horse’s neck and held out -both hands to him. - -“All these years. Ah, but I knew you’d come!” she answered. For that -moment, at least, she had no doubt. Richard had justified himself, had -come back, famous and successful, to the woman whose welcome would -have been no less warm had he been broken and penniless, and to that -woman earth was heaven from henceforth. That the Richard who had come -back would not be the Richard who had gone forth was unlikely to occur -to her at that moment, or to commend itself to her belief when it did -occur. She had not changed; why should he? - -Everything was so natural, so simple. Richard never even asked her -again to marry him. Why should he? he had come back for nothing else. -It was necessary to ask the General for her, of course, and the -General resented the request so vehemently that all his children and -their respective husbands and wives had to be summoned to bear down -his opposition by sheer weight of eloquence. Such ingenuity was -displayed in devising schemes for his future, such amazement lavished -on his selfishness in wishing to retain poor Evie, who had given -herself up to him for so long, that he was dinned at last into -acquiescence. He gave his consent with tolerable grace, and presented -his niece with the turquoise disc, which had come into his possession -after the fall of Seringapatam. It was too large even for Early -Victorian taste, which liked its jewellery to be of substantial size, -but the daughters and daughters-in-law agreed that it was a very -handsome present, and most appropriate, as Evie was going to India. -Unfortunately, the first time she wished to wear it at Bombay she -learned that to wear Indian ornaments in India was to incur -irretrievably the stigma of being “country-born,” but the cousins did -not know this. Some sort of outfit was got together for her, the -cousinhood eking out an impossibly small sum of money with great -goodwill and much contrivance, that she not disgrace the family; but -the bride herself would have sailed for India cheerfully with what one -plain-spoken “in-law” called cruelly her usual ragbag of clothes. - -Had the shadow fallen even then? Eveleen asked herself the question -this evening, as often before. One night--it was at a dance--she had -surprised on Richard’s face, as he met her in a blaze of wax-lights, a -look in which she read cold criticism, even dislike. It struck her to -the heart, stripping her in one moment of her new found youth and joy. -They thought she was going to faint, and it was Richard himself, all -compunction and anxiety, who took her out and fussed about her with -water and borrowed smelling-salts and a glass of wine; and when she -sobbed out something of her sudden terror, admitted that his wound had -been paining him horribly all day, and cursed himself for spoiling her -evening by letting her see that he was suffering. He refused angrily -to let her sit out the dances with him, and happy and satisfied, she -entered the ballroom again on his arm, never dreaming of doubting his -assurance. But now the doubts had crept in once more, and refused to -be silenced. - -If the shadow had not been there before, it had certainly made itself -felt on the voyage. Eveleen was not shy--she did not know what shyness -was,--and in the intervals of sea-sickness she enjoyed herself like a -schoolgirl. She bobbed up and down like a cork; nothing could keep her -under the weather long--such was the admiring dictum of one of the -youths drawn to her by her delight in new experiences, and the -unfailing gusto with which she found interest and excitement in things -which other people considered deadly dull. The rest of the ladies on -board eyed her askance. There was something not quite ladylike about -“that Mrs Ambrose”; one did not wish to be uncharitable, but really -one was almost afraid she might be called just a little bit fast. No -one was more surprised both by her popularity and her unpopularity -than her husband, and he resented both--or rather, the personality -which was their common root. That, without any effort on her part, his -wife could keep every one within sound of her voice amused and -interested, gave him no pleasure--it was as though a modest violet had -turned into a flaunting poppy on his hands. He had had little to do -with women in his hard life, but the few ladies with whom he had come -in contact did not trouble themselves to amuse the men around; they -left it to the men to amuse them. Richard Ambrose had never been -particularly successful in this respect, but he felt the attitude was -the right one. As Eveleen told herself bitterly one day on catching -sight of his disapproving face on the outskirts of the circle which -her hunting stories had set in a roar, it really seemed that the only -person who didn’t like Mrs Ambrose was Mrs Ambrose’s husband! - -Far worse was the trouble that arose at Bombay. Eveleen had naturally -taken it for granted that she would accompany her husband to the scene -of his duties, but he told her curtly that Khemistan was not a place -to which one could take ladies, and not knowing that Mrs Bayard was -heroically attempting to defy the dangers of the climate, she accepted -his dictum perforce. With Richard’s old butler to guide her -inexperienced feet, she found herself established in a small hired -bungalow--its ramshackle condition and shabby furniture made it feel -really homelike,--mistress of what seemed to her huge sums of money, -and pledged to keep accounts strictly. The result was what might have -been expected. It was all very well for Ambrose to impress upon her -that, apart from his political appointment, which might come to an end -at any moment, he was still a poor man; her conception of poverty -differed radically from his. He had inured himself to living on rice -and _chapatis_ in his comfortless bungalow--dinner at mess the one -good meal of the day--that he might pay the subscriptions expected of -him, and maintain a creditable appearance in public. The people of -Eveleen’s world had cared nothing whatever about appearances, but had -lived in a rude plenty, supported by contributions in kind from -tenants whose rents were paid or not as the fancy took them--generally -not. To Richard money was a regular institution, to be doled out with -punctual care according to a plan carefully considered and rigidly -fixed beforehand; to her it was a surprising windfall, affording -delicious opportunities for the almost unknown joy of spending, and to -be used accordingly. Her efforts at keeping accounts shared the fate -of poor Dora Copperfield’s. The entries began by being rigorously -minute, but they ceased with startling suddenness, unless the butler’s -demands sent Eveleen flying to the book in horror, to put down what -she could remember spending--which was very little in comparison with -what she had spent. The extraordinary thing was that in these spasms -of economy--which occurred periodically--she could find so dreadfully -little to show for the vanished money. She might declare proudly that -she had not bought a single thing for herself, and it was true, but -the money was gone--how, she could not say. She was popular and -hospitable, her possessions were all at the service of her friends and -her friends’ servants, and her modest stable was a constant source of -expense--even before she lit upon the half-starved, under-sized little -Arab which she rescued from cruel treatment and named Bajazet because -it sounded Eastern and imposing, and reconstructed her outbuildings to -accommodate him properly. Then there was Brian, who was quartered at -Poonah, and being a youth of keen affections, seized every opportunity -of taking a little jaunt to Bombay to see his sister, who welcomed him -on each occasion as if he were the Prodigal Son. Brian must be fed on -the fat of the land--Eveleen had a wholly unjustified conviction that -“sure the poor boys must be starved, without a woman to see after -them,”--and his ever-recurring money troubles assuaged as far as -possible. To do her justice--perhaps love made her clear-sighted, or -in this one case she was able to see through Richard’s eyes--Eveleen -did realise the danger of Brian’s living regularly beyond his income, -and lecture him on the absolute need of pulling up. Brian listened -meekly, promised to comply, accepted with almost tearful gratitude -whatever his sister could scrape together to placate his most pressing -creditors--and returned to duty, as often as not, to spend the money -on something else. - -Richard Ambrose was not left wholly ignorant of the Rake’s Progress on -which his wife was embarked. Laborious epistles from the old butler -betrayed anxiety lest Master’s interests should suffer, and friends -coming up from Bombay brought amusing tales--amusing to them, that -is--of Mrs Ambrose’s open-handedness. An opportune cholera scare -enabled Ambrose to issue an edict of temporary banishment from the -scene of temptation. Eveleen was to go up to Mahabuleshwar with the -wife of one of her husband’s friends, to whom she was to pay a fixed -sum monthly, and rusticate for awhile away from shops and -entertainments. But temptation followed her even to the hills, though -in a different guise. The place was the recognised summer headquarters -of the Bombay Government, and the wife and daughters of the -newly-arrived Commander-in-Chief were already in residence. To them -came on flying visits Sir Henry Lennox himself, best loved and best -hated of all the survivors of the Peninsula. Lady Lennox was what -Eveleen characteristically called “aggressively motionless,” and her -step-daughters were being painfully trained to follow in her decorous -footsteps; but the veteran himself had a most appreciative eye for a -pretty woman, and a ready enthusiasm for one who dared to ride -wherever he did. Brian had wheedled a gullible commanding officer out -of a week’s leave to see Eveleen comfortably settled, and the brother -and sister and the scarred old soldier forgathered by some mysterious -affinity, without any conventional presentation or introduction. The -scandalised Military Secretary reported to the distressed Lady Lennox -that it was all the fault of the Irish lady and her brother; but Lady -Lennox--hearing hourly of break-neck gallops and impossible -leaps--confessed in her heart of hearts that her susceptible warrior -was in all probability just as much to blame. Her alarm extended -merely to what Sir Harry was wont to call his “battered old carcass,” -for he was too chivalrous an admirer of women in general to offer -compromising attentions to one in particular. Imprudent he might be, -but his imprudence confined itself to regaling Eveleen with scraps of -autobiography of a startling character and moral deductions drawn from -them, together with lurid denunciations of such of his many enemies as -suggested themselves to his mind at the moment. - -They became so friendly that Eveleen was emboldened at last to confess -her anxiety about Brian, and ask the Commander-in-Chief’s advice. -Brian was with his regiment again, and his last letter from Poonah had -shown his sister that he was still taking his usual light-hearted way, -undeterred by her exhortations. She did more than ask Sir Harry’s -advice; in all innocence she did a thing of which she failed -altogether to realise the heinousness. Remembering Brian’s past Staff -experience, she asked the Commander-in-Chief to make him one of his -aides-de-camp. Since that day she had heard such things talked of, and -the recollection made her cheeks burn in her solitude to-night, but at -the moment it seemed a perfectly natural thing to do. It was obvious -that Brian could not or would not live within his means in the -regiment, and that neither public opinion there nor the influence of -his commanding officer tended to urge him to do so; therefore what -could be better for him than to pass his days under the eye of the -stern economist whose worn blue uniform did not put to shame even -Eveleen’s ancient habit? Sir Harry seemed a little taken aback at -first--unaccountably, she thought, but she realised now that he had -probably never been asked for a highly desirable appointment so simply -and directly before. But he respected Eveleen, and he liked the -careless, good-natured young fellow about whom she was so anxious--and -with good reason, as a few short sharp questions assured him. Then he -gave his answer. If Brian could liquidate his debts and present -himself before him as a free man three months hence, when it was -possible an additional aide-de-camp might be required, he should have -the post. - -Probably the last thought in Sir Harry’s mind was the first that -occurred to Eveleen. Brian must realise his assets, and she would -supply any deficiency. If Brian had never gone into his affairs -thoroughly before, he did it the next time he saw his sister, when the -details of what he could sell and which of his possessions could be -returned to the vendors in lieu of paying for them were remorselessly -threshed out. Eveleen declared that if it turned both their hairs grey -they would do it, and rewarded him at the end with the sum which was -to set him free--and incidentally to bring Richard Ambrose rushing -down from Khemistan as fast as the primitive Bab-us-Sahel steamer -could bring him, drawn by the alarming report of his Bombay agent. It -was too late to reclaim the money--save at the cost of exposing Brian -to the Commander-in-Chief, which Eveleen’s tears and entreaties -withheld her husband from doing,--but Brian received by letter a few -home truths, which he took, until he had time to think them over, in -very bad part, though Richard felt he had been criminally lenient. It -was Eveleen on whom the chief punishment fell--at least, her husband -regarded it as a punishment. She had to face the ordeal she had -imposed upon Brian, when all the unpaid bills, the empty pages of the -account book, the chits so easily signed and forgotten, were brought -to light. It had never occurred to her that there was anything wrong -in being in debt--she had grown up in an atmosphere of it,--and she -was half alarmed and half resentful when she saw the effect of his -discoveries upon Richard. But the breaking-up of the Bombay household, -and her removal to Khemistan, where she would have no opportunity for -extravagance, did not strike her as a punishment at all, and it made -her indignant that her husband should so regard it. The one thing she -feared was that he should learn the secret of Brian’s sudden -elevation--which he ascribed carelessly to an idle whim on the part of -a man too old for his high post,--and while that remained unknown she -was happy. - -“Brian’s in good hands now, at any rate, and safe,” she said to -herself as she took a last look at the sea of mist, knowing nothing of -a distracted letter which was already on its way to her from Poonah; -“and what’s more, I’m here with Ambrose.” The two men in the -dining-room were moving, but it was so late they would not expect to -find her still up, and she slipped noiselessly along the verandah to -her own room. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - COLONEL BAYARD’S BURDEN. - -/The/ famous city of Qadirabad, the seat of such government as -Khemistan possessed, was not reached from Bab-us-Sahel without -difficulty. There was a ride across the desert first, which was so -much to Eveleen’s taste that she begged they might go the whole way by -land. But there was no camping equipment available, and Khemistan was -destitute of rest-houses, and there at the Bunder lay the steamer, -booked to make the journey in four days--what more could reasonable -woman desire? But Colonel Bayard had been right in saying that if the -steamers plying between Bombay and Bab-us-Sahel were small and -uncomfortable, those on the river were worse. Owing to her light -draught, the passenger accommodation of the _Asteroid_ was limited to -a single cabin, the berths in which--so a friendly subaltern confided -to Mrs Ambrose--were constructed of a wood specially selected for its -hardness. Had not Colonel Bayard come to the rescue by having a tent -pitched for her on deck, Eveleen must have turned every one else out, -and as it was, she felt guilty of grievously restricting the space -available for exercise. The salient characteristic of the scenes -through which they passed--as of all else that she had yet encountered -in Khemistan--was mud. Sometimes they were steaming through a country -so absolutely level that there seemed no reason why the river should -remain where it was instead of overflowing on either side--and -derelict channels and stretches of marsh showed that the river itself -was of the same mind. More often they found themselves passing between -banks of mud which formed a kind of natural aqueduct, confining the -river in a course high above the general level of the country, and the -wash of the steamer caused portions of these banks to dissolve and -slide gently into the water. Sometimes one bank was high and the other -low--looking for all the world as though the river were being softly -tilted sideways to allow the water to run off, and in this case the -higher bank was generally wooded, with tall spindly trees above and a -mass of dense undergrowth below. These woods were the famous -_shikargahs_ of the Khans--their hunting paradises, formed -artificially like the New Forest, and by similar methods, as the many -remains of ruined and deserted villages showed. They were strictly -preserved, and such villages as still existed were at a discreet -distance from them--dismal collections of mud-heaps surrounded by a -network of irrigation canals. The canals were shockingly kept up, but -the crops were wonderful, and Colonel Bayard pointed out to Eveleen -the obvious fertility of the soil, giving so much in return for so -little. He sighed as he remarked that under a civilised government the -whole land might be a garden, and then changed the subject by telling -her droll anecdotes of his friends the Khans. - -Despite the waste of a good deal of powder and shot on various -crocodiles and aquatic birds--which invariably escaped unscathed--the -four days passed in such hot and confined quarters were long and -wearisome, and the passengers beheld joyfully the palms and greenery -which marked the approach to Qadirabad. The place was surrounded by a -belt of gardens, above which, as the steamer rounded a bend of the -river, rose in the distance a vast battlemented wall and great round -tower, bearing an absurd resemblance to Windsor Castle. This was the -Fort--or rather, fortress--palace of the Khans, dominating the city -proper, but the British Agency was closer at hand, in a garden -overhanging the river. It was a settlement rather than a house, for -besides the large block of buildings erected by Colonel Bayard--in -which the humorous detected a resemblance to a champagne-case set on -end, its divisions represented by the arches of the several tiers of -verandahs--some of his subordinates had built bungalows for -themselves, and the native servants and hangers-on had a village of -their own. There were quarters for the guards, a bazar, gardens and -orchards, and the whole was surrounded by a wall some five feet high, -of the usual mud-brick. Eveleen was astonished by the size of the -community, for the work of the Agency required the services of a large -number of resident Europeans, while there were fifty or sixty more, -employed at Sahar or other places higher up the river, who made it -their headquarters on occasion. Some of the local white men were -married, but mostly to country-born women, so that Eveleen was -unquestionably the Burree Beebee. Had her claims needed support, it -would have been supplied by the chivalry of Colonel Bayard, who -insisted that the Ambroses should take up their quarters in his own -house, and consider him as their guest while he was there. For the -next few months, he said, he would be little in Qadirabad, as duty -called him up the river, to look after the supply arrangements for the -British forces returning--or more literally retreating--from Ethiopia, -and he was sure his wife would like to think the rooms he had prepared -for her were in the occupation of his friends. As Richard Ambrose -acted as Resident in his chief’s absence, the arrangement seemed -natural, but Eveleen had qualms when she saw the elaborate and -expensive furniture--not lest she should spoil it, but lest Mrs Bayard -should think it had not been treated with proper respect. One trial -was spared her. Almost with tears in his eyes, her husband implored -Colonel Bayard not to impose upon her the task of housekeeping on so -large a scale, and she was saved from the certainty of disgracing -herself by reducing the Resident to bankruptcy. It is true that she -considered the arrangements of the responsible secretary to be at -least as lavish as her own had been, but at any rate he was in the -habit of keeping accounts. - -It had not occurred to her that in the absence of all household duties -time might hang a little heavy on her hands. There were plenty of -people to ride with her morning and evening, but in office hours she -was the only idle person in a hive of industry. That, at least, was -her husband’s view, of which she was irreverently scornful. The native -clerks might be hard worked, but she declined to believe it of the -Europeans, who did nothing, so she declared, but sit and smoke, and -now and then sign their names to the documents that were put before -them. How much better for them to spend the pleasant hours of -mid-morning and late afternoon--which would so soon become too hot for -outdoor exercise--in healthful cross-country gallops! But the Indian -official day was far too firmly established to be overthrown by one -mutinous Irishwoman, and Eveleen had to make her own occupations. She -was training the little horse Bajazet--to the mingled amazement and -scandal of her neighbours, who pointed out unsparingly defects of form -and action which betrayed his mixed blood. He had a horror of -natives--probably due to ill-treatment in his youth--and his mistress -went through stormy scenes with half a dozen syces, dismissing one -after another before she found one who would do as he was told. This -was a meek patriarch who was content to sit by, shrouded in the -horse-blanket, while Bajazet was put through his paces and learned to -follow Eveleen about like a dog. Once he came up the verandah steps -after her, but he was ruthlessly ejected by the orders of her husband, -who vowed he would _not_ have the place turned into an Irish cabin, -and she was obliged to content herself thereafter with teaching him to -ask for dainties without coming in search of them. - -The unwritten law which restricted her unescorted rides within the -limits of the Agency was naturally a challenge to the Irish mind, and -Eveleen never rested until it was abrogated in her favour. It was not -as if she wanted to go into the town, she said--who would? And indeed, -Qadirabad--for all its imposing appearance and historic renown--was a -sadly uninteresting place. Very soon after her arrival, Eveleen was -taken up to the Fort gate, to look thence down the long line of the -Grand Bazar, and obtain a general view of the city. A wilderness of -mud hovels, broken in places by the dome of a mosque or the blunted -pyramidal tower of a Hindu temple, with a two-storied house within -high walls here and there, but never a tree to relieve the monotony -until the eye hailed the grateful greenery of the encircling gardens -on the horizon--all was squalid, mean, miserable. The Bazars--famous -throughout Asia for their manufactures--seemed to have fallen upon -evil days, for such pottery and lacquered ware as was to be seen was -of the poorest, and the gold and silver work and precious stuffs of -old were hardly to be found nowadays. A reason might be discovered for -this in the bands of armed men constantly to be seen in the narrow -streets, eyeing the peaceable craftsmen as inferior beings permitted -to exist in order to minister to the needs of their superiors, but by -no means to lay up wealth for themselves. The Khans were not Khemis by -race. A century ago they had come from Arabitistan, across the -mountains to the north-west, swooping down resistlessly upon a people -“quiet and secure” and practically defenceless. They had parcelled out -the country among their rude retainers, who remained as feudal chiefs, -and Khans and Sardars alike drew upon the inexhaustible reservoir of -Arabitistan for warriors of their own race to maintain and extend -their dominion. Without this continual reinforcement, the soft life of -the plains and inter-marriage with the conquered people might have -enfeebled the ruling caste, but with fresh hordes of wild Arabit -horsemen to be summoned at need, they remained a power to be -respected--if not particularly respectable. With tulwar and shield and -lance, the wild men swaggered where they would, responsible only to -the Khans--and not always very amenable to them--and caring nothing -for anybody else. Eveleen admired their showy little active horses, -the ease and grace of the riders, and the bright silks and embroidered -shawls of their apparel, but she had sense enough to realise that they -were not people it would be desirable to meet if she were riding -alone. - -But if the town was barred, the garden-belt outside it was surely a -very different thing. The Arabit horsemen were seldom to be found in -the neighbourhood of the Agency--unless one of the Khans should happen -to be paying a state visit to Colonel Bayard--and the country was -fairly open. What danger could there be for Eveleen if she did not go -too far away, respected _shikargahs_, and avoided growing crops? Yes, -she would take a mounted orderly--it would only be like a groom--but -not--oh, please not!--an escort of the irregular force known as the -Khemistan Horse, which had been enrolled as the Resident’s guard. How -could she ride at her ease if she had always to tag about with an army -behind her? Playing the part of the Importunate Widow, she succeeded -at last in imposing her will on Colonel Bayard, and that unfortunate -man, most unfairly cast for the part of the Unjust Judge, found that -he had carefully cultivated a thorn for his own side. - -He was in his office one day, discussing weightily with Richard -Ambrose the various matters of importance which might arise during his -absence, when sounds of dispute outside interrupted their -deliberations. Some one was demanding to be allowed to enter, and was -being respectfully but firmly repulsed by the scandalised -attendants--and the voice left no doubt who the intruder was. - -“Mrs Ambrose, as I live!” exclaimed Mrs Ambrose’s husband in -unflattering disgust. “What bee has she got in her bonnet now? Excuse -me one moment.” - -“Mrs Ambrose appears to wish to see me,” said Colonel Bayard, with his -unfailing kindness. “We can’t let an English lady be turned away by -the _chobdars_. Come! Good morning, ma’am; is there something you want -me to do for you? Good heavens! what has happened? Has any one -dared----?” for Eveleen’s face was flushed and tearful, and her lips -trembled too much to speak. She wrung her hands together wildly. - -“Murder--a woman!” it was a kind of hoarse scream. - -“You have been attacked? No?” as his eye ran quickly over her -speckless habit. “What is it, then? Sit down and tell us about it.” He -led her to a chair, and waved the attendants away. “You have had a -shock? A glass of wine!” he signed to a waiting servant. “Now let us -hear what it is.” - -“Compose yourself, for Heaven’s sake!” growled Richard Ambrose--not -encouragingly, but the harsh tone proved more effectual than the -Resident’s kindness in enabling Eveleen to pull herself together. With -her fingers tightly pressed against one another she sat upright and -spoke jerkily. - -“’Twas a poor woman--just a bit of a girl. Her father and her husband -had quarrelled. The horrid wretch--the husband, I mean--went straight -home--and called her out. The creature came--and stood before him -trembling. He took hold of her hair--her beautiful long hair--and -twisted it--into a rope--and _strangled_ her with it--her own -hair----” Her voice rose into a scream again. - -“Yes, yes--very distressing,” Colonel Bayard patted her hand kindly. -“These things will happen here, we know, but you are new to them. And -you were passing, and saw it done?” - -“_Saw_ it?” she cried furiously. “D’ye think I would not have broke my -whip over the brute’s head, and poked his eyes out with the bits -after? No, I was passing, and heard the old women keening--her mother -and her mother-in-law--and I went in there and saw--her poor face--and -her hair---- And I made the syce ask them about it, and they told me, -and I came straight back to you at once, that you might get the wretch -found out and punished!” - -“But, my dear lady, where do you think he is?” - -“Why, in hiding, of course!” in surprise. - -“Not a bit of it! A man don’t go into hiding in Khemistan for little -accidents like that. I dare be bound the fellow is now boasting to his -friends of the revenge he has taken on his father-in-law, and every -one of ’em is sympathising with him. That’s all.” - -“But d’ye mean nothing will be done?” - -“Nothing whatever.” - -“You mean you will do nothing?” - -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, what could I do? Killing is no murder here, -where a woman is concerned.” - -“But it ought to be. You could go to the chief Khan----” - -“He would merely laugh at me. ‘Murder, you say, sahib? Who was killed? -A _woman_? and the man’s _wife_? and he was angry with her father? -Why, of course he killed her. It was the natural thing to do.’ And -that’s precisely what it is--in Khemistan.” - -“And you let them go on like this? You say nothing----” - -“What could I say? And what good would it do? It ain’t as though the -poor creature were alive, and I could save her by intervening. It’s -too late--unfortunately.” - -He added the last word in deference to the stormy look in Eveleen’s -eyes as she rose from her chair, knocking down the untasted glass of -wine at her elbow. - -“You needn’t say any more. I see how it is--perfectly. If Ambrose -killed me, ’twould merely be, ‘Only a woman--only his wife--and he was -angry with _her_--and it served her right!’” defiantly. - -“If Ambrose killed you, I would hang him with my own hands, and you -know it very well!” said Colonel Bayard, between jest and earnest. -Then his tone changed. “But you have no right even to associate such a -thought with your husband, Mrs Ambrose. It is abominably unfair to -him, and only to be excused because you are a little unstrung at this -moment.” - -“Just look at his face, then!” cried Eveleen recklessly. “Is there -black murder in it, or is there not, I ask you?” and she -departed--leaving two discomfited men behind her--to cry her eyes out -in her own room, until her husband, really alarmed, insisted on a -visit from the doctor, and--so near is bathos to tragedy!--the -administration of a composing draught. - -That incident was closed. Eveleen made numberless irrevocable -resolutions that never, no, never! in any circumstances whatever would -she attempt to appeal again to the compassion, or even the sense of -justice, of those two stony-hearted men--but evidently she was one of -the people to whom things are bound to happen. Colonel Bayard had gone -to pay his farewell visit to the Khans, attended by Richard Ambrose -and other subordinates, and preceded by _chobdars_ bearing silver -sticks and similar insignia of dignity, when the remaining occupants -of the Residency became aware that Mrs Ambrose had another row on -hand. They guessed it when she returned from her ride at a tearing -gallop--the syce left behind somewhere on the horizon--and dashed up -to the office verandah, demanding eagerly to see the Resident Sahib. -It was clear she had forgotten all about his absence, for those who -were peering at her through the tatties reported that she made a -gesture of despair, and mounting again, rode round to her own quarters -with a slow hopelessness very different from the ardour with which she -had ridden in. She sent her horse away, but stayed walking up and down -the verandah without going to change her habit, her sun hat thrown -aside. The two men whose rooms were on the opposite side of the -courtyard could see the white figure passing and repassing across the -dark space left by the updrawn blind. Sometimes she came to the steps -to call a servant, and sent him on some errand--evidently to see -whether the Resident had returned without her hearing him, but in -vain. - -“If that woman tramps up and down much more, she’ll drive me -distracted. What’s the matter with her?” demanded one of the watchers -irritably at last. - -“Couldn’t say,” was the laconic reply of his companion. - -“Well, you might risk a guess, anyhow. Tell you what, I’m going to -see. Are you game to come too?” - -The other reflected. “I suppose Ambrose ain’t likely to consider it an -intrusion?” - -Captain Crosse characterised Scottish caution in unsuitable language. -“I always knew Ambrose would make trouble by bringing his wife up -here, but since he has brought her, one can’t in common humanity leave -the unfortunate creature to walk her feet off for want of some one to -help her. I’m going, and you have got to come too. Here goes!” - -They went across to the Ambroses’ verandah, and Eveleen turned a -despairing face upon them at the sound of Captain Crosse’s hesitating -greeting, “Can we do anything, Mrs Ambrose? We were afraid something -must be wrong.” - -“Sure I don’t know what to do!” she burst forth. “I’m in the most -frightful trouble. Do come in, the two of you, and tell me is there -anything you can do. But I don’t believe anybody but the Resident will -be any good, and it seems as if he’d never be back!” - -“Sit down and tell us about it, ma’am,” urged Captain Crosse, while -the young Scotchman pulled a chair forward. “To fret yourself into a -fever will do nobody any good, and be precious uncomfortable for you.” - -Eveleen hesitated, pushed back the damp hair from her temples, and -dropped into the chair. “It’s because there’s no time,” she said -despairingly. “Colonel Bayard said it was too late before, because the -poor creature was dead, but this time she could be saved, only there’s -no one to do it---- I suppose,” with reviving energy, “you wouldn’t -come with me and rescue her?” - -A glance had passed between the two men over her head, and now, as she -sat up eagerly and grasped the arms of the chair preparatory to -rising, Lieutenant Haigh said, with discouraging slowness, “But who is -it you want to rescue, Mrs Ambrose--and what from?” - -“The poor girl--child, rather. They carried her off--I saw the dust of -their horses in the distance----” - -“But who carried her off?” patiently. - -“Sure how would I know? A band of Arabit horsemen--they brought a -_palki_, and forced her in----” - -“But who was she? and where did they take her? Try and tell us exactly -what has happened.” - -Eveleen glanced upwards, as though in search of patience, and still -holding the chair, as if to anchor herself to it, spoke with -exaggerated deliberation. “She was a pretty little young girl--I have -often seen her; she would peep out in a shy sort of way and smile at -me. To-day she was not there, but the old father--he’s a poor sort of -fellow, that--was crying fit to break his heart and throwing dust in -the air, and the mother--that’s worth two of him--was all bleeding -where the wretches had knocked her about when she tried to hold her -daughter back, and the neighbours would all be sympathising with -them--but they ran away like mice, every one of them, when they saw -me.” - -“But who had carried her off, and whither?” repeated Sir Dugald Haigh. -He was a poverty-stricken soldier burdened with an inherited -baronetcy. - -“Sure I told you”--with some irritation. “A band of Arabit horsemen, -and they would be taking her to the Fort. The parents were -inconsolable--they said she was to have been married next week.” - -“They would be--they’ll have to return the gifts,” said Sir Dugald -drily. Then his tone changed. “Well, ma’am, that puts an end to the -business. When a girl--or a woman either, for it would have made no -difference if the marriage was a week ago instead of a week hence--is -taken to the Fort, there she stays.” - -Eveleen gazed at him, horror-stricken. “_Any_ girl--and against her -will--and no one minds?” - -“That’s the way here,” curtly. - -“You see, Mrs Ambrose”--Captain Crosse took up the parable--“it ain’t -the same with these people as it is with us. The Arabits take a girl -when they want her just as they take anything that pleases ’em from a -shop in the Bazar. These women don’t mind that sort of thing--rather -like it, in fact--think it a bit of an honour, as you might say.” - -“If you had seen that poor old father and mother, you would never -believe that!” indignantly. - -“That’s just for to-day. It’ll be all right when they have got over it -a bit. A ruler always exercises this power in the East--why, just as -it was in the Bible, you know.” He spoke with increased confidence, -feeling that the thing had been set on a proper footing. “I assure you -there are thousands of these women in the Fort--place is swarming with -’em. So you see, it’s quite the right thing here.” - -“But how can it be right just because it’s always done? And I am sure -it’s not done in India.” - -“Not in our districts, of course; but believe me, in some of the -native states within our borders, not only would the girl have been -taken, but the parents would have been killed for offering resistance, -and the house set on fire--for a warning to others, you see.” - -“I don’t see that makes it any better--horrid though it be. What is -Colonel Bayard here for if it ain’t to stop things of this sort from -happening?” - -“’Pon my word, ma’am----!” began Captain Crosse, quite taken aback, -but Lieutenant Haigh spoke slowly. - -“You are making a mistake, ma’am. The Resident is here to seek to -persuade the Khans to keep their treaties with us, so that we may be -able to leave them in the enjoyment of their authority.” - -“Authority to murder women and carry off girls? And he calls himself -an Englishman and a Christian!” - -This was high treason, but though Captain Crosse showed signs of -flight, Sir Dugald argued patiently on. “You must know yourself, Mrs -Ambrose, that there’s no better-hearted person in the world than the -Resident. But he has enough to do with his proper business, and the -Khans have no mind to make it easy for him. They choose to go on -destroying villages to extend their _shikargahs_, and plundering -traders, and intercepting the river traffic by demanding tolls, and -they do it, never caring a pin about the difficulties they are making -for him.” - -“Then he ought just wash his hands of them!” declared Eveleen -defiantly. “If I were in his place----” - -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, what is the matter?” Colonel Bayard and Richard -came up the verandah steps, to find her confronting the two men. She -looked at him stormily. - -“It’s a fool I am to expect anything----!” she began, and stopped, -unable to speak. - -“Mrs Ambrose was unfortunately a witness--or nearly so--of the -carrying-off of a girl to the Fort, sir,” said Sir Dugald; “and the -lamentations of the parents have affected her sadly.” - -“Positively, my dear Richard,” said Colonel Bayard, “you must not -allow Mrs Ambrose to distress herself in this way. She will make -herself ill, and our little society here will lack its brightest -ornament.” - -Eveleen looked at him with absolute abhorrence. “And that’s all you -have to say about it?” she demanded. - -“My dear lady, what can I say? The custom of the country permits the -rulers to recruit their zenanas in this way, and how is a stranger to -prevent it?” - -“Go to the Khans and get her back! Tell me now, what’s the use of -their calling you their father and their mother if they’ll not do what -you tell them?” - -“I fear their confidence stops short on the threshold of the zenana,” -said Colonel Bayard gravely. “But suppose, to gratify me, they -consented to the release of this girl--do you think she would choose -to be released? Nay, she would hug her chains, as you consider them, -and entreat to remain in the Fort.” - -“The worse for her, then, the wretched creature! But sure you’d have -brought the Khans to book, and shown them the law was stronger than -they are.” - -“What law? They would have been constrained by friendship, nothing -more. The English law don’t run here. The will of the ruler is the -law--at least, it comes to that.” - -“And Colonel Bayard can reconcile it with his conscience to use all -his endeavours to prop up a system under which such things can -happen!” she cried. Her husband glanced round aghast to see the effect -of this blasphemy, but the other two men had discreetly faded away, -Colonel Bayard looked at her sadly. - -“What can I say? I do my best for these people, but they will do -nothing to help me--to justify me. Yet to use force--to compel them to -virtue--would be an outrage, an iniquity. Ain’t it better for them to -govern themselves, even badly, than to be governed, however well, by -us?” - -“Ah!” cried Eveleen suddenly, “that’s it, that’s it! You think of them -and of us--and not for one moment of the creatures they misgovern, the -women and the poor.” - -“As Heaven is my witness, I do think of them--and constantly,” he -replied, with deep solemnity. “It is my earnest hope to ameliorate -their condition by influencing the Khans--in time. But never will I be -a party to seizing more territory under the pretext of seeing justice -done.” - -“In time!” echoed Eveleen scornfully, but her husband interposed with -crushing effect. - -“That will do, my dear. The Resident will think you are an advocate of -Women’s Rights, if you don’t take care. You will find it advisable to -rest a little after all this excitement, and it would not be amiss to -change your gown.” - -When Richard spoke in that tone, he could have shifted an iceberg, so -Eveleen was wont to complain, with some confusion of thought. On the -present occasion, he certainly shifted her. She found herself sitting -on the couch in her bedroom, all the fight gone out of her, while he -stood before her, his face wearing what she called its hatefullest -expression. - -“Now look here, my dear,” he said coldly, “there has been enough of -these heroics. Twice over you have badgered Bayard in a way that would -have made any other man on earth _jawab_ [dismiss] me on the spot, and -it is not to happen again. Why he don’t forbid you to set foot outside -the compound I don’t know.” - -Defiance revived. “I do,” said Eveleen. “Because he knows ’twould be -no good.” - -“Believe me, you would not find it easy to pass the gates in the teeth -of the guard.” - -“As if I’d dream of trying it! I’d jump the wall, of course.” - -He recognised the futility of argument. “At any rate, if he chooses to -leave you full liberty, I am going to restrict it. You won’t be able -to ride much longer in office hours, happily--the sun is getting too -hot--but as long as you do, you will be good enough to avoid the -villages. If you can’t ride past these people without interfering in -their concerns, why--take another direction, if you please.” - -“I don’t mind,” listlessly. “Sure it’s no pleasure to me to see such -shocking things happening, and nobody with the heart to lift a finger -to prevent them!” - -“Do you mean to say that after what Bayard told you, you still -expect----” - -“Expect? I don’t expect anything of him at all. But will you tell me -that if Sir Harry Lennox was here, there would nothing be done?” - -“That old ruffian? Oh, I dare say he’d be capable----” - -“You may call him all the names you like, but I tell you he would have -hanged that murderer the other day, if it had been a Khan upon his -throne. And to-day he’d have ridden up to the Fort and broken the -gates down, and let all the women out.” - -“And a nice thing that would be! Try to borrow a little common-sense, -my dear, even if you don’t possess any. The Fort is full of women, and -you talk calmly of turning ’em all out of doors--penniless, homeless, -accustomed to a luxurious existence! Take my word for it, they -wouldn’t thank you! A few might be silly enough to accept the offer of -freedom, but they would precious soon come begging to be let in again. -They have everything women can want--at any rate, these women--good -food, fine clothes----” - -“Food and clothes!” scornfully. “Why, I have food and clothes!” - -“And ain’t you happy, pray?” - -“I am the most miserable woman alive!” with tremendous emphasis and -absolute--if transitory--conviction. For once Richard Ambrose was -staggered. Astonishment, remorse, resentment, incredulity--she read -them all in his face for one moment. Then he recovered himself. - -“Pooh, pooh, my dear! you exaggerate,” he said sharply. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - A LUCKLESS DAY. - -/Morning/ brought--if not counsel--a considerable measure of -cheerfulness to Eveleen. To her buoyant temperament protracted gloom -was impossible, and her husband smiled to remember his momentary -alarm. In her full enjoyment of the happiness she had for ever -disclaimed, she was as shallow as any of the native women whose cause -she had championed. Unfortunately he could not know what was the root -of her pleasurable excitement this morning. His command to avoid the -villages had reminded her of a plan for continuing Bajazet’s education -that had occurred to her when riding with Sir Dugald Haigh one -evening--but had been carefully concealed from that prudent young man. -So far she had never ridden what she delighted to call “my Arab” when -in company with others. She meant the accomplishments of her little -steed to burst proudly on the men who had laughed at him and slandered -his ancestry. Colonel Bayard had had some jumps put up for her in the -compound, and encouraged her in many unsuccessful attempts to take -Bajazet over them with the assurance that your true Arab was never a -good jumper. Much practice had at length enabled her to get him over -them after a fashion, and now she wished to try him over water. The -Resident himself was her companion on the early morning ride--a -parting compliment, since he was leaving by the up-river steamer later -in the day; and as he was a sound, rather than an adventurous -horseman, she found it decidedly dull, its decorum redeemed only by -the romantic wildness of the escort of Khemistan Horse. Her time came -when he and Richard were safely at work in the office, and she could -start out again on Bajazet, attended by the meek syce and an orderly -of satisfactorily brigandish appearance called Shab-ud-din. They rode -out beyond the belt of gardens surrounding the city, so far that -Shab-ud-din began to be anxious, and tried to warn her of something. -He knew no English, the syce very little, and Eveleen about as little -Persian, but their efforts towards mutual comprehension were assisted -by the sound and vibration of heavy guns not far off, and she -understood that the Khans’ artillery was practising somewhere in this -direction. Her attendants were satisfied when she turned aside towards -the river again, though they did not seem quite happy when she reached -her goal. The country out here was a kind of chessboard, cut up in all -directions by irrigation canals, and she had marked one which seemed -exactly suited to her purpose. Deep and wide where it left the river, -it parted with so much water to smaller canals on either side that at -the point she had chosen it was a mere trickle between quite -manageable banks. Bajazet did not appear to like it at first--perhaps -to his desert-descended mind water was something to be respected -rather than leapt over--but after she had dismounted and led him -across once or twice, he began to enter into the idea, and his -mistress flattered him with the assurance that he was a great little -horse indeed. - -There was only one drawback to her satisfaction, and that was -Shab-ud-din’s inability to comprehend that he need not follow her -backwards and forwards across the canal. He was very loyal and very -dense, and evidently felt that wherever the Beebee went it was his -duty to go too. His youth had not been spent in the hunting-field, and -his horse was much heavier than Bajazet, so that when Eveleen -increased the length of the jumps by moving farther down the canal, -the results became rather alarming. Two or three falls in the soft -sandy mud happily inflicted no serious injury, but the banks suffered -a good deal, and so did the channel. - -Engrossed in her sport, Eveleen did not realise how time was passing -until the increasing heat of the sun began to make itself unpleasantly -evident. It really would soon be too hot to go out in the daytime, she -said to herself regretfully, finding the prospect of the long ride -back to the Residency the reverse of attractive. She must be getting -near a village, too--at least, there were people running across the -fields; so droll for them to be coming out to work at this time of -day! Well, just one more jump, to take her to the right side of the -canal for home, and this would be really a good wide one. Turning to -Shab-ud-din, she did her best, by word and gesture, to explain to him -that he had better ride a little higher up, and not attempt to cross -here, but as she rode towards the bank she heard him pounding after -her. It was his own fault, the foolish fellow! she could not pull up -now, but she hoped he would fall soft--the fragmentary thoughts passed -through her mind as Bajazet rose to the leap. But this time he was not -to sail lightly over the obstacle--“like a bird,” as she delighted to -say,--for a man who must have been crouching unseen in the -water-channel started up, waving his arms and shouting. Had Eveleen -not been taken by surprise the good little horse might have cleared -the interrupter, but involuntarily she deflected him ever so slightly -from his course. He faltered, jumped short, and as he staggered among -the stiff clods of the opposite bank Shab-ud-din and his big horse -came thundering down upon the two. Shab-ud-din would probably have -come off in any case, but in his horror at the scene in front of him -he must have tried to pull up, and forthwith executed a complicated -somersault sideways which left him groaning in the mud. - -With an instinct born of long experience, Eveleen had freed her foot -from the stirrup when she saw disaster imminent, but it was not -necessary for her to roll from the saddle, nor was she thrown from it. -What happened--to her exceeding wrath--was that the man whose -interference had caused all the trouble seized the skirt of her long -habit and deliberately dragged her to the ground while Bajazet was -struggling for a foothold. The shock pulled the reins from her hands, -and she saw her steed, freed from her weight, reach the top of the -bank safely and dash off in one direction, while Shab-ud-din’s, -struggling up with an energy which sent the clods flying every way at -once, laboured heavily up the side and disappeared in the other. The -syce was nowhere to be seen, and Eveleen found herself sitting in the -damp mud of the channel, helplessly entangled in her habit, with -Shab-ud-din lying motionless close at hand in an attitude that spoke -to her experienced eye of broken bones, and an angry crowd, who seemed -to have arrived on the scene by magic, yelling and dancing with rage -all about her. She was absolutely defenceless, for she had even lost -her whip in the fall, and every word of Persian she had ever known was -gone completely out of her head--even if these Khemi cultivators could -have understood it. The only thing she could do was to adjust her -hat--which was half-way down her back--for the sun was blazing down -upon her, and then to look as much as possible as if she was not in -the least frightened, which was wholly untrue. If she could even have -risen to her feet, she felt that she might have overawed the mob, but -what could she do when it was impossible to free herself and stand up -without assistance? The men were all armed--some with rusty but -murderous-looking swords, all with heavy iron-shod sticks--and to -judge by their attitude, they had every intention of using them on -her. She found herself speculating which of them would strike the -first blow--the signal for all the rest to fall on her--and decided in -favour of a truculent person who was prancing about and swinging a -huge tulwar in most unpleasant proximity to her head. Would Richard be -sorry? the question presented itself irresistibly, and brought its own -answer---- Undoubtedly, but it would be because his wife hadn’t had -the sense to die decently in her bed! - -It would not have been Eveleen not to laugh at the picture thus called -up, and the sight of her amusement gave pause to her assailants. They -did not shout quite so loud, and the tulwar came down a little farther -off instead of actually upon her. In this moment of comparative relief -she saw the stranger. He was riding along the bank towards them--as -fast as the insecure footing would allow, dashing the clods this way -and that--and he was leading Bajazet. He was richly dressed, with a -gorgeous _pagri_ striped with gold, but his complexion was not -dark--rather the brick-red of a European burnt by tropical suns. He -shouted angrily as he came near, and the mob gave one glance of terror -and dissolved helter-skelter. He turned and shouted to some one out of -sight, and the rush of horses’ feet and clank of accoutrements seemed -to show that he was attended by a military escort, which he was -directing to pursue the fugitives. He dismounted as he came -near--Eveleen’s syce appeared out of space to take the horses’ -bridles--and stumbled down the rough bank towards her. - -“I trust you ain’t hurt, ma’am? Bless my soul, if it ain’t Miss -Evie--Miss Delany, I should say!” - -The voice, with its Cockney accent, brought back vague memories of -misty mornings, of purpling copses and vivid turf, of battered stone -walls and untrimmed hedges masking sunken lanes--all the -accompaniments of a day’s hunting in the old life. But why not an -Irish voice? With a sudden effort Eveleen found the clue--recalled a -young man, not a gentleman, who had come into the neighbourhood on -some legal business, and having been bitten by the prevailing mania, -had afforded a rich feast of amusement to the members of the hunt. - -“It’s not you, Mr Carthew?” she said incredulously. - -“’Sh, miss! They call me Tamas Sahib here, and it’s safer. To think of -comin’ across you!” - -“And they call me Mrs Ambrose,” she laughed, as he helped her up. “But -why would you be going about dressed up like this?” - -“I ain’t one of your lot,” he avoided her eye. “Master-General of -Ordnance to their Highnesses--that’s what I am. The Resident he don’t -know nothin’ about me, and I’ll thank you, ma’am, not to tell him -nothin’.” - -“As you please,” she said, rather perplexed. “But you’ll not mind my -telling Major Ambrose--in confidence----” as she surprised a look of -something like alarm. “Sure you must see he’ll wish to thank you for -coming to my help,” with a touch of _hauteur_. What was the man so -mysterious about? - -“As you please, ma’am. But you’ll remember I ain’t an Englishman -here--just one of these people.” He had wrung most of the water out of -her skirt by this time, and brushed off some of the mud--clumsily, but -with evident goodwill. “You did better for me once,” as he looked -disparagingly at his handiwork. - -“The time I cot your horse for you when you were in the boghole? Ah -no, nonsense! I didn’t even try to brush the mud off you, because you -were all mud, every bit of you, were you not? But would you look at -us, talking over old times like this, and leaving poor Shab-ud-din to -lie and groan!” - -“Let me see to him, ma’am. It’s no job for you.” - -“That it is, when he came by his fall trying to help me. What d’ye -think now? his collar-bone. I’d say it was, and maybe an arm as -well--and how in the wide world will we get him home?” - -“If you’ll be good enough to leave it to me, ma’am--believe me, you -must. It’s for my own sake----” shamefacedly. “It won’t do for my men -to catch me talking privately with you. If you’ll mount and follow me, -they shall bring the poor chap in.” - -“Follow you?” her eyebrows went up slightly. - -“If you don’t mind, ma’am. That’s the way here, you know, and as I was -saying, I’m one of ’em now.” - -With what she felt was exemplary meekness, Eveleen allowed the syce to -mount her, and waited while her old acquaintance rode to meet the wild -horsemen who formed his escort. They were returning in triumph, -bringing with them several of the fugitive assailants, who bore every -appearance of having been roughly handled. It occurred to her suddenly -that to deliver over Khemi villagers to a band of Arabits was probably -equivalent to sentencing them to death, and she called after Carthew-- - -“What was it made the villagers so angry? What were they after?” - -“You were breakin’ down their canal, and they thought you meant -destroyin’ it, ma’am. I’ll teach ’em to make a fuss about what their -betters do in future.” - -“Now, now, ’twas my fault,” said Eveleen. “They have got a good -beating, by the look of them, so let them go, and please give them ten -rupees from me, to pay for the damage.” - -“It’s encouragin’ ’em to do it again----” he began. - -“They won’t get the chance, or I’m much mistaken--knowing Major -Ambrose as I do,” with a sigh. “No, ’twas just to show them I wasn’t -meaning to do any harm.” She watched Carthew as he met his followers, -had the prisoners ranged in front of him and harangued them -impressively, then received money from an attendant who produced it -from some mysterious hiding-place in his girdle, and distributed it -among them. It made her smile to see that he shepherded his troopers -carefully back, evidently suspecting that otherwise they might follow -the pardoned criminals and force them to disgorge. Leaving two men to -look after Shab-ud-din, he led the way again towards Qadirabad, -Eveleen following him, with the syce at her stirrup, and the escort -bringing up the rear. The sun was very hot by this time, Bajazet was -tired and stumbled more than once, and Eveleen drooped in her saddle, -trying to nerve herself in advance for the ordeal of meeting a justly -incensed Richard. She met him sooner than she expected, in a cloud of -dust, with an escort of Khemistan Horse. Carthew drew aside, with an -admirable air of contempt alike for the service he had rendered and -for its object. Richard was angry. - -“What have you been doing with yourself now?” he demanded of his muddy -and dishevelled wife. - -“I got a fall, and this--this gentleman--something in the Khans’ -Artillery he is--helped me up.” - -“Sardar Sahib”--Richard rode a little nearer the disdainful figure of -the rescuer--“I am deeply indebted to you. Accept my acknowledgments.” - -“It is nothing, sahib. I happened by chance upon the spot.” - -“Don’t let him go!” Eveleen whispered anxiously. “There were some -villagers--I spoiled their canal or something--he paid ten rupees for -me--we must give it him back.” - -“I don’t carry piles of coin about with me, my dear, but I imagine he -will trust me. Or have you already given him your whip in pledge?” - -Horror-stricken, Eveleen realised that she had not recovered her -gold-mounted whip--the gift of the hunt on her marriage. “It’s -gone--lost!” she said despairingly. “I must go back--or another day, -perhaps--and look for it.” - -“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I understand, Sardar Sahib, there’s a -small matter of money between us. It shall be sent to your quarters in -an hour without fail. But I am still infinitely your debtor.” - -“The obligation is on my side, sahib. May you be fortunate!” and with -due interchange of compliments the two parties separated. - -“This is the last time you’ll ride out without an escort, my dear!” -said Richard pleasantly. “It’s clear you ain’t able to take care of -yourself. That’s the Yankee chap who commands the Khans’ Artillery, I -presume? How did he contrive to be on the spot so pat?” - -“How would I know?” listlessly. “But it’s English he is--not American. -I know him.” - -“You have the most extraordinary set of acquaintances of any female I -have ever met! He gives himself out as American--that’s all I know. -Where have you seen him before?” - -“He used to follow the hounds one season, a few years ago. ’Twas just -when _Pickwick_ was coming out, and everybody called him Mr Winkle, -for he’d turn up on the most hopeless crocks you ever saw, and as -often on the ground as in the saddle. Some sort of attorney’s clerk he -was--hunting up evidence or something, but it wasn’t much he got, -unless he found it in the mud.” - -“His riding has improved since then, evidently--or he rides better -horses,” drily. “What became of him?” - -“My dear Ambrose, how would I know? I did hear a rumour that he had -got into some trouble and enlisted, but ’twas likely nothing but -scandal.” - -“And then got into some more trouble and deserted--eh?” - -“Sure y’are very ready to belittle the poor fellow!” Eveleen turned -upon her husband. “I suppose that’s the measure of the value you set -upon your wife--the way you treat the man who’s just saved her life?” - -“You had not told me the extent of the obligation, my dear. But the -greater it is, the more careful you had better be to maintain the -distance he has fixed between himself and us. The fellow is -undoubtedly a deserter from our artillery--whether from the Bengal -side or this I don’t know; the native princes are always ready to -entertain ’em to instruct their troops. I have told you he passes -himself off as a Yankee--that’s to prevent our making enquiries, of -course, and perhaps also to evade the suspicions of his present -employers. They would smell a rat at once did he show any desire for -intercourse with the Agency. There’s no manner of doubt he’s a -deserter.” - -“Ambrose, you wouldn’t contemplate laying information against him?” -anxiously. - -“What do you take me for, my dear? No doubt it’s my duty, but as you -have reminded me, the fellow has placed me under a profound -obligation. If you’ll remember the fact yourself, and be content to -pass him without acknowledgment should you meet, so much the better -for him.” - -Eveleen did not agree with this at all. The tone in which Richard -spoke of the “profound obligation” was disagreeable, and the thought -of cutting her rescuer dead was more so. But she was too much subdued -and dispirited to embark on further wordy warfare just now, though she -made her own resolutions privately. Richard, observing her unwonted -meekness, drew flattering deductions from it, and improved the -occasion by intimating that she would do well to relieve the -Resident’s mind by promising to confine her rides within orthodox -limits in future. But this was too much to ask, and when Colonel -Bayard came out anxiously to meet the rescue expedition and enquire -how it had sped, his solicitude did not meet with the gratitude it -deserved, since he incautiously expressed the same hope. What was to -happen if she felt she _must_ go out for a gallop when she was bound -by a promise not to? Eveleen demanded indignantly; and thus faced by -the old problem of the immovable object and the irresistible force, -Colonel Bayard wisely confined himself to laying it down, in the -hearing of his staff, that in no case was she to leave the compound in -future without either an escort or European attendance. This was -galling, and she sought her own rooms in much depression of spirit. -But the misfortunes of this unfortunate day were not yet at an end. -Richard, who had accompanied her in a considerate silence which she -would certainly not have maintained had their cases been reversed, -suddenly found his tongue. - -“There was a letter for you in the _dâk_--here it is. That brother of -yours is honouring you, I presume. Why don’t the fellow learn to -write? Such a fist I never saw--nor anybody else neither. Here this -letter has been up to Sahar and down to Bab-us-Sahel again--and all -his fault.” - -“The Delanys think more of fighting than of writing,” said Eveleen -succinctly. It sounded so neat that she felt quite cheered. - -“No doubt. I’ll wager anything the fellow wants more money, or he -wouldn’t have written now. If he does, you had better leave it to me -to answer him.” - -“I’ll not do anything of the sort. He don’t want money, I’m certain, -and if he did, he wouldn’t take yours.” - -“H’m!” said Richard Ambrose infuriatingly. - -“I tell you he wouldn’t look at it--not if you offered him millions, -and brought it to him on your bended knees!” - -“That”--with the strict moderation she found so trying--“is hardly -likely. Well, my dear, I’ll leave you to enjoy your letter.” - -But Ketty had something to say first, and she said it at length, as -she removed her mistress’s mud-stained garments and disclosed an -extensive system of bruises. In vain did Eveleen assure her that she -had been worse bruised many a time after a day’s hunting, the handmaid -remained of opinion that “Madam-sahibs no done ride that way.” As a -Parthian shot, even as she with drew by command, she expressed the -hope that Master would stop these rides, but by this time Eveleen was -established on her couch in a deliciously cool muslin wrapper, sipping -a cup of tea, and preparing to break the seals of her letter. - -Alas, alas! Brian was in trouble still. By the most unfortunate chance -in the world, at this very last moment the brother officer on whom he -had relied to relieve him--at a price--of an elaborate fowling-piece -had been invalided home, and was selling his own guns, and no other -purchaser could be found. The sum at issue was a paltry one--three -hundred rupees would cover it, but without those three hundred rupees -Brian could not appear before Sir Harry Lennox and proudly declare -himself free of debt. Simply and naturally he applied to the helper -who had never yet failed him. Surely Evie’s husband could not refuse -to advance so small a sum if she asked it? He might cut up a bit -rusty, but it would only be for a minute or two. Alas! Richard’s wont -was not merely to let the sun go down upon his wrath, but to cover -that wrath up carefully to keep it warm for the night--so Eveleen had -once declared aghast, in her astonishment at a method so unlike the -quickly passing tempests to which she was accustomed. And moreover, -even if she could have appealed to him two hours ago, it was -absolutely impossible after the last words that had passed between -them. Even for Brian’s sake--rather, perhaps, especially for Brian’s -sake--she could not expose herself and him to the certainty of a -refusal couched as Richard Ambrose would couch it. But something must -be done, for at the end of his letter Brian supplied an additional -reason:-- - - “So do your best for me, my dear girl, for I am _bruk entirely_, as - old Tim the huntsman used to say. If you don’t, you will lose more - than you bargain for--this is a dead secret. I hear old Sir Harry is - bound for Kaymistaun before long, so stump up the tin somehow if you - have any fancy for seeing - - “Your despairing brother, - “/Brian Delany/.” - - -But how? Eveleen’s first thought was to apply to Colonel Bayard, but -the thought was relinquished as soon as formed. He would press upon -her three thousand rupees instead of three hundred if he had it, but -he would certainly make Richard a party to the transaction--and then -it would be at an end. She became as despairing as Brian himself as -she ran over the names of the various men with whom she came in -contact. Some of them would be unable to raise the money, having -solved the problem of existing on chits eked out by a judicious -distribution of their pay as it came in; some would be so proper that -they would tell Richard at once; others would hold over her the threat -of telling him, and do so at last. Clearly there was nothing to be -done in that way. She must sell something--or, at any rate, get an -advance on something, and that not from the Soucars who acted as -bankers to the Agency, but from some firm without official -connections. The idea sounded hopeful. Her own simple rural life had -known nothing of pawnbrokers, but she had relatives in Dublin who, in -common with the rest of their circle, were wont to “deposit” their -ancestral jewellery--at the bank, it was politely understood--save -during the brief Castle season, while the family plate was “stored” in -like manner except when required for a rare dinner-party. She must -certainly pawn something, since the few odd coins in her own -possession, if hunted up from all the nooks and corners where they -somehow found hiding-places, might possibly amount to five rupees, but -more probably would not. - -But what could she pawn? She had so little jewellery that Richard -would be sure to notice it if any particular ornament was not worn for -some time, and none of it was very costly. She knew little about -values, but she feared it might need all her trinkets to serve as -security for three hundred rupees. All save one, that is. Impulsively -she rose, and going to her jewel-case, took out the turquoise disc. To -the Western eye it was not particularly attractive, but the Oriental -mind attached to it a sentimental worth. She recalled the day when she -had worn it at Bombay to show Brian, who was staying with her, and the -awe and reverence with which his bearer, a Northern man, had viewed -it. His eyes were glued to it from the moment he first distinguished -it amid the laces on her breast, and when she took it off and handed -it to Brian to examine, the servant retreated a little, as though -either afraid or consciously unworthy to approach. When his master -demanded what was the matter, the man explained that the stone was -undoubtedly the Seal of Solomon, bearing the Name at which all the -demons trembled, and endowing its owner with power to compel their -services. Nothing more was needed to make the brother and sister waste -the whole evening, and all the sealing-wax in the house, in trying to -produce a satisfactory impression, entirely without success. The -bearer, appealed to with ribaldry by his master, pointed out that the -markings on the stone might by the eye of faith be interpreted as -forming the required letters. It was the seal itself, not the -impression, that signified, he said, and to cut it, as the sahib -suggested, would be impious in the extreme, since it already bore all -that was necessary. He ended by adjuring Eveleen to keep it safely, -and pointed out the value which must have been attached to it by the -former possessor who had suspended it from its strong steel chain. - -“Well, it’s not much use to me!” said Eveleen. “Not being Solomon, I -can’t wear a ring the size of a soup-plate, and Ambrose don’t like to -see it round my neck. It may be very nice and magical, as your man -says, but what good’s that when I don’t know how it works?” - -“Ah, sure the thing will come in some time,” said Brian vaguely. “Let -me have a try with it. Rubbing, now--that’s what it wants, ain’t it? -I’ll give it a rubbing it won’t forget in a hurry!” - -But no amount of rubbing produced any effective manifestation, and now -the stone was to be made useful in another way. Any pawnbroker would -surely be willing to advance three hundred rupees on such a treasure. -But the difficulty was to find him. Eveleen could not quite imagine -herself scouring the Qadirabad Bazar for a pawnbroker--especially with -a mounted escort at her heels--and she did not like the idea of -trusting any of the servants. Then came a happy thought. - -“Tom Carthew, of course! A disreputable acquaintance, Ambrose may call -him if he likes, but who better can there be to help me do a -disreputable thing? Tom Carthew’s the man!” - - - - - CHAPTER V. - THE SEAL OF SOLOMON. - -/The/ escort must have formed a high idea of the courage of European -ladies when Eveleen led the way the next morning in the direction of -the very canal where, as they had learnt from the syce, she had barely -escaped with her life from the hands of infuriated villagers. But this -time she had no intention of continuing Bajazet’s education--so -alarmingly interrupted. What she wanted was to come across Carthew -again, on his way back from his artillery practice. She took great -credit to herself for refraining from sending to him directly, since -Richard had said that would injure him, but it is to be feared that at -the back of her mind was the determination to do so if necessary. Time -was pressing, and Brian must have his money. Happily, however, it was -not necessary, for Tamas Sahib came in sight with his escort while she -was still well on the Qadirabad side of the canal. Both parties -stopped short, and while Eveleen was hesitating whether to ride on -towards Carthew or send a messenger to summon him to speak to her, one -of his men detached himself from the rest and rode towards her party. -But he made no attempt to speak to her, addressing himself instead to -the Daffadar in command of the escort, who went forward a pace or two -to meet him. The messenger delivered over something long and thin, -wrapped in a silk handkerchief, and when it was handed to Eveleen with -the Topkhana Daroga’s salams, she found it was the lost whip. But -there was no time to waste in rejoicing, and she turned boldly to the -Daffadar. - -“Let the messenger bear my salams to the Daroga Sahib, and say that I -beg him to approach and receive my thanks.” - -The man looked surprised and doubtful, but her tone and bearing were -so carelessly assured that there was no room for misunderstanding. He -repeated her words to the messenger, and when he had ridden back and -reported them, Carthew came forward in his turn, with evident -reluctance. - -“Glad to have got you your whip, ma’am,” he said, with the bluffness -that covers embarrassment. “The villagers had it hidden, but I made -’em give it up. And now, if you’ll excuse me goin’ back----” - -“But I want you to do something for me first,” Eveleen broke in, -anticipating a hasty withdrawal at the close of the sentence. “Can you -tell me of a pawnbroker?” - -“A pawnbroker, ma’am?” Measureless astonishment was in his tone. - -“Yes, a pawnbroker--or a moneylender, at any rate. I want to raise -some money--at once.” - -“But--the Major----” he stammered. - -“I don’t want Major Ambrose to know anything about it. It’s for my -brother--you’ll have seen him at home?” - -“And a fine young gentleman he was,” mechanically. “But you don’t -understand, ma’am--it ain’t the thing----” - -“I tell you I must have it. If you won’t help me I must ask the -servants. But”--with the air of one making a huge concession--“I don’t -mind handing the jewellery over to you, so that you can get the money -as if for yourself.” - -“But the look of it, ma’am! How could I put the money in your hands? -The Major must become aware----” - -“Very well, then--tell me where the man lives, or show me the way -there, and I’ll do it myself.” - -“You can’t, ma’am, believe me. You don’t seem to see----” - -“I see what must be done, and that I’ll have to do it if you won’t. -That’s plain, ain’t it?” - -The unhappy Carthew pondered the matter. “There _is_ a fellow,” he -said reluctantly at last, “that has a garden somewhere this way. If he -should so happen to be there to-day, it would be better than goin’ to -his house in the Bazar. Have you the--the goods with you, ma’am?” - -“That I have!” She handed him the little parcel from her -saddle-pocket. “And it must be three hundred rupees, you’ll -remember--no less, and I want to send it to Poonah.” - -“A letter of credit,” he murmured vaguely. “And these--this is your -own, ma’am?” - -“Every bit my own--given me by the General. Major Ambrose has nothing -to do with it. Then I’ll be riding about here, if you’ll bring me the -money or the letter or whatever it is?” - -“If I might send it to the Residency----?” feebly, but he was wax in -her hands. The old tradition of the hunting-field was too strong. She -scorned the suggestion. - -“Didn’t you tell me yourself it wouldn’t do? No, just give it me here, -and we’ll be done with it.” - -What the Daffadar and his men thought when they saw the Daroga ride -back to his escort, and found themselves following at a discreet -distance, did not appear. Eveleen was determined to keep her emissary -in sight, lest he should make use of the narrow lanes between the -garden walls to take to his heels, and afterwards return the jewel -with regrets. She had no particular confidence in him--merely a lordly -feeling that since he was here, he must do what was required of him, -and be well looked after while he did it. He had always been inclined -to shirk his fences, and her kindness to him after the boghole -disaster was a debt of honour, since it was purely at her incitement -he had dared the leap. She saw him halt at a gateway and demand -admittance, then ride in, and she began to walk Bajazet up and down, -keeping a wary eye on the gate meanwhile, the escort following her -movements faithfully. Sooner than she expected she saw Carthew -emerging again, and rode forward to meet him. - -“You won’t tell me you have not made him do it? You must think of -somebody else, then.” - -“It ain’t that. The old chap seems uncommon pleased, that’s a fact. -But he wants to know how you got hold of the thing--afraid he might be -accused of stealin’ it, I suppose”--as wrath flashed from Eveleen’s -eyes--“and if it’s brought you good luck since you had it?” - -“What in the world would that matter to him?” - -“I don’t know, ma’am--unless he’s afraid of keepin’ it in his house if -it’s been unlucky with you.” - -“That it hasn’t, then. Why, didn’t I get married since it was given -me?” If there was irony in her tone, it did not reach Carthew, who -grasped eagerly at the idea. - -“The very thing, and no mistake! And how did the General get the -thing, do you know, ma’am?” - -“’Twas at Seringapatam--that’s all I know. He may have killed the man -that had it, or he may have bought it from some one that did.” - -“That ought to be all right. You’ll get the money, ma’am, never fear! -The letter to be in favour of Lieutenant Delany, I presume?” She -nodded. “Oh, and I was forgettin’. The old fellow seems half inclined -to make you an offer for the thing outright--so much money down. Would -you choose to accept of it?” - -“That I won’t! I wouldn’t part with it on any account. Tell him I’ll -redeem it the first chance I get. Ah, and listen now. If it’s luck -he’s thinking of, tell him the luck’s mine, because the seal belongs -to me, and if he loses it--better say ‘loses,’ not ‘sells’--I’ll keep -the luck, and he’ll have the thing without it. That’ll frighten him.” - -“As you please, ma’am,” and off he went again, to return after a time -with a document which was naturally quite unintelligible to Eveleen, -but which he assured her was a letter of credit, drawn up in due form, -on a Poonah firm with which her brother was sure to be well -acquainted. “And I was to tell you, ma’am, that if you should wish to -sell the trinket at any time, he made no doubt of being able to find -you a purchaser at a very handsome price, but he would advise you not -to let the chance go by, as the offer might not remain open long.” - -“What does he mean? That sounds like a threat,” said Eveleen quickly. -“Well, I’m not going to sell it, and I won’t be threatened by any old -pawnbroker in Qadirabad. You told him that, I hope?” - -“I warned him--that I did,” but there was something uneasy and yet -helpless in Carthew’s voice which made her look at him. She waited a -moment to see if he would say anything more, but in vain. - -“Well, I am greatly obliged to you, Mr Carthew. I don’t know how I’d -have ever managed by myself. I’ll tell my brother how much he’s -indebted to you. Good morning!” - -It was not an age when ladies shook hands with all and sundry, and -Carthew did not expect it. He accepted his dismissal with -something--it might almost seem--of relief, and the two parties -separated. - -As she made her way home with the precious document in the -saddle-pocket, Eveleen realised the need of getting it to Brian as -soon as possible. His letter to her had consumed so much time in its -wanderings up and down the river that in any case he must run things -very fine. If all her trouble was not to be in vain, she must send the -letter of credit off by the steamer which left for Bab-us-Sahel that -evening, and she groaned, for she was little more of a penman than -Brian himself. But it was consoling to feel that he would make no -complaint of brevity on her part so long as the enclosure was -satisfactory, and the letter was duly despatched, with the assurance -that not even for him could she ask Ambrose for more money, but her -dear boy might be sure that for his sake she would sell, if necessary, -anything but her wedding-ring. The letter once gone, she was quite -happy, knowing nothing of the whirlwind of talk her proceedings had -let loose in the servants’ quarters. As so often happens, Richard, the -other person most concerned, knew nothing of it either, and being much -engrossed in the duties of his new position as head of the Agency in -Colonel Bayard’s absence, did not even notice the excitement that -prevailed. - -It was not until some weeks later that Eveleen heard of her pendant -again. The hot weather was coming on, and her daylight rides had -ceased perforce. Only in the early morning hours was exertion -possible, and even then it cost her an effort that astonished her. The -year before she had been at Mahabuleshwar, so that this was her first -hot weather in the plains, and the blazing sun and relentless heat -filled her with a kind of terror, enhanced by the suddenness of the -transition from comparative coolness and night frosts. She was lying -listlessly on a bamboo couch one day, unable to do anything--for the -least exertion made her pant painfully--intent only on getting through -the dreadful hours somehow until evening brought some relief, when -Richard came in. It was an unusual hour for him to appear, for he -stuck to the office as rigorously as his chief had done, and he took -her by surprise. For once he beheld her without the innocent -make-believe of wellbeing and energy--quite unconscious on her -part--which had served hitherto to hide from him how much the heat was -trying her, and she saw his face harden suddenly into decision. But he -spoke of something quite different, with an assumption of bluff humour -which did not suit him at all. Richard Ambrose was not a humorous -person. Like the legendary Scotchman, he joked “wi’ deeficculty.” - -“I fancy you won’t feel inclined to raise money on your jewellery -again in a hurry, my dear!” Her eyes, accustomed to the dim light, -could see him distinctly as he groped across the bare shaded room, -whereas he was only able to distinguish the tell-tale inertness of the -white figure on the couch. As always, his voice and presence acted as -a tonic, and Eveleen sat up. - -“Y’are greatly pleased with yourself about something, Ambrose! Will -you tell me what it is?” - -“Oh, you shall hear it, I promise you!” He dropped into a chair, but -found it impossible to go on wearing the mask. “What possessed you to -go and borrow money from one of these people here?” he demanded -wrathfully, “And through that fellow the Daroga, too! Have you no -sense of what is suitable in your position?” - -A challenge to fight would never find Eveleen wanting. “My position?” -she repeated slowly. “My position was that I wanted the money, and had -to get it somehow.” - -“Since you were ashamed to ask your husband for it. Oh, don’t be -afraid; I can guess what it was for. That brother of yours again, of -course! If he ain’t ruined, it won’t be his loving sister’s fault.” - -“As it happens,” with great dignity, “’twas to save him from ruin, and -I’m proud to have done it.” - -“Of course! It don’t occur to you, I presume, that what the fellow -wants is a regular hard time, under a commander who’ll keep his nose -to the grindstone, instead of peacocking on the Staff? With you -eternally helping him out of every scrape he may choose to get into, -he hasn’t a chance. Well, don’t say I haven’t warned you!” - -“But sure that’s the very thing I’m doing--helping him go where he’ll -be well looked after. Helping him with the money, I mean,” she added -in a panic, fearing she had betrayed herself. But Richard, to do him -justice, was not suspicious. - -“Have it your own way, my dear. You have your own way of doing things, -and I suppose you’ll stick to it. Of course it was too much to expect -you to consider me in your anxiety to serve your brother?” - -“I did consider you,” bluntly. “Sure I’d have asked you for the money -if I hadn’t.” - -“You wouldn’t have got it, I assure you.” - -“Well, didn’t I save you the unpleasantness of refusing?” - -“I wonder you didn’t take that as a reason for robbing my desk! It -don’t matter, of course, that every tongue in the Agency and in the -Fort is buzzing over my wife and myself, and inventing new scandals -every day?” - -“Oh, people will talk!” with superb detachment. “If there’s nothing -handy to talk about, they’ll make it up. The Agency people know -there’s no harm about us, anyhow, and as for the Fort, I’d like to -know what business it is of theirs?” - -“That’s it, precisely. You have poked your nose into Khemistan -politics, my dear. You may have discovered by this time that there are -two parties among the Khans--old Gul Ali’s, which wants peace with the -English, and the one headed by young Kamal-ud-din, which would like to -turn us out neck and crop. It has worried me no end lately to find -Kamal-ud-din and his set all so uncommonly cock-a-hoop, and I can tell -by Bayard’s letters that he’s worried too. Well, to-day the reason -came out, when I saw Kamal-ud-din in durbar wearing that blue -dinner-plate of yours. I thought I couldn’t be mistaken, but I made up -my mind to come home and ask you before saying anything, in case it -was merely the fellow to it. I fancy they were rather disappointed -that I didn’t kick up a dust, but afterwards they invited me into the -garden to see a new pavilion they are building. All the young Khans -and their hangers-on were there, and I saw they were egging on little -Hafiz-Ullah to say something. Presently he burst out, with a nasty -little giggle, ‘The Istunt Sahib has not congratulated my cousin on -recovering the talisman of his house.’ Kamal-ud-din was smirking so -vilely that I couldn’t doubt any longer the thing was yours, and that -you had let me in for something unpleasant----” - -“I don’t see why. They might have stolen it,” broke in Eveleen. - -“And then directed my attention to it, while you had said nothing of -losing it? No, my dear, pardon me; I am beginning to know your ways by -this time. I took a good look at the object, and said in a bored sort -of voice, ‘Curious! I could almost believe it had a look of a jewel -that belonged to my wife, and that I bade her get rid of, because -English people don’t wear such things.’ They were a good bit taken -aback at that, but one of the hangers-on put in, ‘Yes, it came from -the Istunt Sahib’s house.’ I looked him down and said--precious -sternly, I promise you,--‘You mean his Highness has bought it from the -goldsmith Mrs Ambrose sold it to. I hope he didn’t let him make too -much on the transaction.’ They saw there was no change to be had out -of me--the Munshi told me afterwards they had their story all pat of -your having sent the thing to Kamal-ud-din with your salams, and if I -had shown any sign of anger or surprise, out it would have come--and -began to offer explanations in a hurry. The talisman had been carried -off fifty years ago by a captain of the guard who quarrelled with the -Khans of that day, and contrived to escape with his life. He was heard -of afterwards as a soldier of fortune in South India, but no one knew -what became of him and the stone at last. I was able to supply the -rest of the story, of course, and they were grateful, having a lurking -doubt whether they had got the right thing after all. It seems the -stone brings good luck to its possessor, which is the reason of all -the secret jubilation that has been worrying me. When they had said -all they had to say, I smiled superior, and remarked what a -satisfaction it was to Mrs Ambrose and myself to have been the means -of restoring such an interesting relic to his Highness’s family, and -so came away.” - -“But we have not restored it to them, and we won’t! I never sold -it--only pawned it.” - -“Precisely what I thought, my dear. That’s what I meant by saying that -you wouldn’t pawn your jewellery again in a hurry.” - -“But he’s not going to keep it?” - -“Pardon me, he is--very much so.” - -“You gave away my pendant to this creature?” - -“Must I remind you, my dear, that what is yours is mine?” This was -literally true in those days, but it was a sore point with almost -every woman, and tactful husbands did not insist upon it overmuch. -Richard Ambrose realised this immediately. “Not that I would press -that for a moment--you know me better. But you would not wish to -detain another person’s property?” - -“It’s not his property--it’s mine. I came by it honestly, and if you -think the General didn’t, you’d better say so! I won’t have my things -given away without so much as ‘by your leave’!” - -“Now pray don’t work yourself up about nothing at all. You shall have -another brooch--or whatever you like to call it--that you can wear, as -you couldn’t this, and with better stones. No doubt the General came -by it honestly, but it’s certain it was stolen property to start with. -Now the rightful owner has got it back, that’s all.” - -“Well, he’s not got the luck that goes with it!” triumphantly. “I -warned the old thief of a pawnbroker that if he parted with the stone -I’d keep that. And so I will!” - -“Be quiet!” said Richard sternly, for her voice had risen. “Do you -want to be murdered? That’s what will happen if you talk like this.” -She looked at him aghast, and he proceeded to improve the occasion, -pleased with the effect he had produced. “Now listen to me, my dear. -It’s about time you left off behaving in this childish way, and -settled down like a reasonable being. Since I brought you here you -have given more trouble than all the other women in the place put -together. If the Resident wasn’t soft to the point of folly where a -lady is concerned, you would have been sent down the river again--or -even back to Bombay--in double quick time. But because he’s a fool on -this point, there’s no need I should be. I tell you plainly, I have no -fancy for being stabbed or poisoned purely for the sake of breaking -your luck, but that’s what will happen----” - -He stopped perforce, for Eveleen had flung herself upon him with a -shriek. “Ambrose! you don’t mean it? They wouldn’t hurt you because of -my silliness? I’ll write--I’ll go and tell them----” - -“My dear! Pray”--he freed himself with some difficulty--“do try to -exercise self-control. Nothing will happen to either of us if you will -only behave with ordinary prudence. The matter is happily ended now, -and needs no intervention on your part. But if I had not belittled the -talisman--had I shown any desire to regain it--we should all probably -have had to fight for our lives to-night. I have instilled into -Kamal-ud-din’s mind a doubt of its value which it will take some time -to repair. The stone is where it belongs; be content with that. And if -I may venture to suggest it, think before you act in future.” - -“Oh, I will, I will! I’ll think for _hours_. But why would you say -we’d be fighting for our lives? Who with?” - -“The Khans and their Arabits, of course. Who else?” - -“Ambrose! d’ye mean we might be besieged here--actually a siege--and -have adventures, like the ladies who were carried off into Ethiopia? -Why, you talked as if ’twas a punishment bringing me up here, and sure -I’d rather be here than any other place in the world!” - -He looked at her hopelessly. “Sometimes I really despair of you, my -dear. But most of those ladies’ husbands had been killed, if I -remember rightly, so perhaps that’s the reason---- No, pray! it is too -hot for demonstrations of such fervour. I beg your pardon---- There!” - -Thus rudely checked in throwing herself upon him again, Eveleen -dropped back upon the couch. “It’s no use!” she said in a small -miserable voice. “Whatever I do--nothing will please you. And you say -these cruel things, breaking my heart entirely. What will I do? what -can I do?” she faced him fiercely. “And I’d lie down and let you walk -over me if ’twould give you a moment’s pleasure! Will you tell me what -I’ll do? Don’t sit there like a graven image with the toothache and -look at me as if I was off my head!” - -“Sometimes I think you are!” the words were on Richard’s lips, but -some feeling of compunction made him choke them back. He had the -advantage over his wife that he did not always say what he thought. -But he looked physically and mentally exhausted as he lifted his hand -slowly. “Pray, my dear! But the fault is mine. I should not have kept -you up here so long. You are overstrained; I fear an attack of fever.” -She gazed at him in astonishment, almost suspicion. “If you really -wish to please me----” - -“Oh, I do, I do!” she assured him fervently. - -“Then you will go down the river by the next steamer. I asked Gibbons -t’other day whether his wife would receive you in her bungalow at -Bab-us-Sahel, and he assures me she’ll welcome you heartily. There in -the sea-breezes you will recover your calmness of mind--I trust.” - -“But sure I don’t know Mrs Gibbons!” with dilated eyes. - -“What does that matter? She is an excellent woman, most kind and -motherly--everybody’s friend.” - -“But what will I do there?” - -“My dear, how can I say? What do other ladies do? Engage in useful and -elegant feminine occupations, I presume. You will be able to show me -the results----” - -“But d’ye mean you won’t be there?” - -“How could I? My work keeps me here. But I shall--er--hope to pay you -a visit--perhaps more than one----” - -“Major Ambrose,” tragically, “will you never under stand that I didn’t -marry you and come to India to be poked away in other people’s -bungalows like a bit of old furniture? Why, if ’twas only to torment -you----” - -“It don’t occur to you, my dear, that I might desire a little respite? -That’s a joke!” he added hurriedly. - -“You may well say so! Are y’ not ashamed of yourself?” - -“I admit I ought to be. Here I suggest going to considerable trouble, -and some expense, to establish you in comfort away from this place, -where no European female could exist when the hot weather is at its -height, and you receive it as an insult. What more can I say?” He -rose. - -Eveleen was after him in a moment, twisting him round to face her. -“Ah, now, don’t you know that when you speak to me like that you can -turn my heart in your fingers? Sure I’m the most reasonable being in -the world if you’ll only remember to consult me before making these -grand arrangements of yours instead of after!” - -“Indeed!” drily. “And is there any likelihood that you would fall in -with ’em?” - -“Not the slightest! But I’m doing it now.” - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - ENTER THE ADVENTURER. - -/Bab-us-Sahel/ had the advantage over Qadirabad that its natural -torridity was tempered by the sea breeze in the daytime and the land -breeze at night, but that was all. After the shady gardens which had -at least looked cool, though they were not so, the staring bareness of -the coast town was the more horrible. No trees, no vegetation -even--save the unsightly milk-bush and the grey-brown thorn which was -supposed to provide the camel with adequate nourishment--neutral tints -everywhere, from glaring white to every possible dull hue that sand or -dust or rock could assume. It was like Egypt without the Nile--the -Egypt of those days, with half-starved donkeys, ragged children, -diseased beggars, and mud-heap houses complete. That was in and around -the native town, which at least had patches of shade here and there, -where the mud hovels nestled up close to the side of a mosque or -sought the shelter of the city wall. But the European houses, strung -out along their sun-baked road, received no shelter either from one -another or from anything else. Each grilled alone in its own compound, -like a mud-built oven subjected to furnace heat from above and on all -sides. Merely to look out from the hot shade of the verandah made the -eyes ache as though they had been exposed to burning flame. The very -wind was hot, and it lifted the all-surrounding dust and whirled it -about in maddeningly confusing shapes--“playing at waterspouts,” -Eveleen once said bitterly--so that you didn’t know whether you were -standing on your head or your heels till you found a thick coating of -grit on your hair. Nor was the place even healthy. The stagnant marsh -remained a marsh when it seemed as though any water in it must -evaporate by boiling--since it was fed by sea-water percolating -through the sand, and the wells apparently drew their supplies from -it, to judge by the taste of the liquid. Experts had reported that -there ought to be an abundant supply of good water in the hills to the -west of the town, but Colonel Bayard felt a delicacy in undertaking -large engineering works. It would look as though the British -occupation of Bab-us-Sahel on the coast, as of Sahar high up the -river, was intended to be permanent, and his aim in life was to prove -that it was not. There were few of the Bab-us-Sahel Europeans who did -not adore Colonel Bayard, but in the hot weather the adoration was -tinged with resentment. - -Eveleen lived through the dreadful weeks by dint of her consuming -interest in her neighbours’ affairs. All unconsciously her husband had -hit upon the very place for her. It would never have occurred to him -that the impulse to have a finger in every pie, which he called -meddling, could be turned to uses of friendly helpfulness such as -suggested the old neighbourly life at home, where everyone knew and -discussed every one else’s business, and furthered it as opportunity -offered. Mrs Gibbons, as the Agency surgeon’s wife, might be supposed -to have acquired by contiguity a certain amount of professional -knowledge, but if so, it was the merest surface polish, for the good -lady would in any circumstances have physicked and nursed any -community in which she found herself. “Gumption” was the word most -frequently on her lips, and the quality most evident in her actions. -When Colonel Bayard declined again to give an appearance of permanence -to the occupation by establishing an experimental garden--such as all -new stations were equipped with--for determining what the soil would -produce, it was Mrs Gibbons who stepped into the breach in default of -the public authorities, and under inconceivable difficulties, grew -successive crops of vegetables which did much to preserve the health -of her fellow-exiles. She kept fowls which actually produced eggs, a -flock of sheep--a small one, of course, but they were really sheep, -not goats,--and several cows, and woe be to the cowherd who sought to -increase the apparent output of milk by surreptitiously introducing -into the pail some of the water in which a portion of his scanty -attire had been previously soaked. The products of her farm were -eagerly bought up--when there were any to sell, for regardless of such -base details as heavy expense and rightful profit, Mrs Gibbons -rejoiced with her whole heart in giving things away. Eveleen accused -her of standing in rapt contemplation of an unconscious sheep, and -cold bloodedly apportioning its joints in her mind to the various -people in whose needs she was most interested at the moment, but her -whole manner of life was after Eveleen’s own heart. - -Theoretically, that is, for if there was one quality of the possession -of which Mrs Ambrose’s worst enemy could not accuse her, it was the -all-important “gumption.” She delighted in distributing gifts of milk -or eggs, but of the minute care and watchfulness required for their -production she was wholly incapable. Mrs Gibbons shook her wise head -over her a dozen times a day, and wondered how a married woman could -possibly be so heedless. The normal Early Victorian married woman, -however young, was staid with a staidness that would be improbable in -a grandmother at the present day. She laid down the law to other women -with the assurance naturally conferred by her position on a dazzling -eminence attained by sheer merit, and she made--or professed to -make--her husband’s comfort and satisfaction her one object in life. -Mrs Ambrose fell lamentably below this standard. Like Richard, Mrs -Gibbons was compelled sorrowfully to believe that she had never really -grown up. She coaxed when she should have commanded, received with -ingenuous pleasure attentions she ought to have demanded as a right, -and would forsake at any time the lofty society of her sister-matrons -to advise a subaltern as to the proper treatment of a sick pony. But, -as her hostess once said indignantly to a detractor, she would give -the gown from her back to any one that needed it, and run herself off -her legs to help a sick person; and if this did not necessarily show -gumption, it showed something better. There were no professional -nurses in India, not even Mrs Gamp and Mrs Prig, and a woman’s -character was soon gauged by her readiness to nurse her friends in -time of need--and not her friends only, but the veriest stranger, who -had, as Europe would have said, no sort of claim upon her. Naturally -Mrs Gibbons’s services were in constant, demand when the inevitable -“low fever” made its appearance towards the end of the hot weather, -but could she have multiplied herself by twenty, they would not have -gone round, so that she was glad to be able to turn over some of the -slighter cases to her guest. She did so not without misgiving, and -with an impressive warning as to the size of doses, and the -distinction to be observed between internal and external application; -but no tragedies occurred. As a matter of fact, the medicine was -generally forgotten, unless the patient or a servant remembered it, -while the nurse brightened the sick-room with anecdote and comment, -until the victims declared reproachfully that they would die of -laughing, if of nothing else. She herself found the torments of -prickly heat easier to bear when her mind was thus occupied, and was -beginning to pride herself on having got through the hot weather -remarkably well, when, just as all properly constituted people were -counting the days to the breaking of the monsoon, she also went down -with the fever. It was not a very severe attack, but it was -characteristic of Eveleen to be convinced she would not recover, and -with bitter tears to entreat Mrs Gibbons to let her see Ambrose just -once more. Mrs Gibbons had been surprised, and a little scandalised, -by the apparent brevity of the communications passing between the -pair, and the obviously appalling difficulty Eveleen found in writing -to her husband, and it is possible that she heightened the colours a -little in her own letter. At any rate, when Eveleen awoke one day from -a refreshing sleep, to the welcome sound of rain pouring down outside, -she found Richard sitting looking at her. She smiled at him happily. - -“That’s nice, now!” she said in her soft crooning voice. “It’s a -pleasure to see you there, Ambrose. If you knew how good y’are to look -at, you’d maybe be too proud.” - -Richard Ambrose--buttoned up and strapped down as all official Britons -were in those days, even in the tropics--smiled with some -embarrassment. “I fear you are joking, my dear. Ought I to return the -compliment?” - -“Y’ought, then!” with energy. “I may be a washed-out doll, but my hair -is smooth. You see that?” - -She held out in a feeble hand a limp tress, which he scrutinised -doubtfully. Eveleen’s hair was as ill regulated as her character. It -would not curl, but neither would it lie flat, since it was possessed -of a rebellious crispness which defied brushing and all known pomades. -Hence the sportive ringlet and the sleek band--the two styles alone -possible to the normal woman of the day--were both out of the -question. But Richard did not look pleased. - -“I--I think I liked it better as it used to be,” he said hesitatingly. -Eveleen sighed loudly. - -“Some people are never satisfied!” she lamented, then her tone -changed. “And y’are come to take me back with y’at last? Oh, don’t -tell me y’are not!” - -“I--I really can’t say, my dear. We ain’t our own masters in Khemistan -nowadays--I suppose you know?” - -“That Sir Harry Lennox is coming up? I know that, of course. Brian’s -safely on the Staff now--you have heard?” - -“I saw it gazetted--yes.” The tone firmly declined to congratulate -either superior or subordinate. “Well, then, you must see that things -are altered. It don’t lie with me to give you leave to come up the -river--nor even with Bayard now.” - -“Sure it’s all the same thing, if it lies with Sir Harry. But why do -you talk as if he would change things?” - -“His appointment must supersede Bayard--may supersede all of us. -Surely you perceive that? Bayard and Bayard’s men ain’t likely to be -here long.” - -“I don’t see why. I believe Colonel Bayard and Sir Harry will like one -another greatly.” - -“Fall on each other’s necks and swear eternal friendship, in fact? -Well, my dear, I hope so, but I doubt it. Old Lennox is Maryport’s -man, and if he comes here, it’s to further Maryport’s policy, and we -all know what that is.” - -“But Sir Harry don’t see eye to eye with Lord Maryport by any means. -Brian says he can’t speak with patience of the way his plan for the -Ethiopian Expedition was bungled at the end--leaving the ladies -prisoners and all. If they hadn’t been rescued, ’twas all the talk in -Poonah that he’d have called out the Governor-General.” - -“Well, there you are, you see. He would have had us remain in -Ethiopia, no doubt.” - -“Not a bit of it! He wouldn’t allow native states inside our -boundaries, but he would never advance a step beyond them unless he -was forced. The times I’ve heard him say that! If he comes, ’twill be -to make the Khans keep their treaties, that’s all.” - -“Pray, my dear, don’t agitate yourself so excessively. Ain’t Bayard -here to make the Khans keep their treaties, and will they do it? And -if they won’t do it for him, whom they call their father and mother, -will they do it for the first arrogant old party that comes -_behaudering_ [swaggering] along? And when they won’t--what then?” - -“Why, Sir Harry will make ’em, or know the reason why.” - -“Precisely; he’ll break ’em, and say that was his orders.” - -“But if ’twas his orders, sure he must do it?” - -“D’ye think any orders would induce Bayard to do it? He’d be broke -first himself, and that’s what will happen, you mark my words. The -G.-G. wants Khemistan, and means to get it.” - -He spoke so warmly that Eveleen’s voice was quite timid--she could not -bear to hint at disagreement when Richard was for once talking to her -as a reasonable being--as she suggested meekly, “But if the Khans made -the treaties, oughtn’t they keep them?” - -“Well, ain’t Bayard trying to make ’em? As he says, if the fools would -only consult their own interests, they would be on his side. The -treaties leave ’em quite free to govern the country according to their -own ideas--though that don’t commend itself to you, eh? But there they -are, and if they would behave themselves in their external relations, -Maryport himself couldn’t lay a finger on ’em. But they won’t--very -far from it.” - -“Sure they ought be punished, then.” - -“All very well theoretically, my dear, but you wait till it has to be -done. That’s where the trouble will begin, and we shall all be in two -camps. Bayard on one side--one of ourselves, a great _shikari_, a -_pukka_ sportsman--and on the other a foul-mouthed old blackguard who -boasts that he knows nothing of India, and goes about abusing high and -low the Directors, who are our masters and his, and the Services, who -are supposed to be his comrades, and making the troops discontented. -Whose part d’ye think most people will take--all old Indians -especially?” - -“But you wouldn’t mean they’d----” - -“I ain’t suggesting there’ll be bloodshed among ourselves. But Bayard -will resign, or be kicked out, and old Harry will rush to destruction -with no one to stop him. The G.-G. may think he has set him an easy -task, but he don’t know Khemistan. It’ll mean war to a certainty. -Without Bayard to smooth ’em down, the Khans won’t stand the old -chap’s _gali_, [insults] and their Arabits will face any army we can -bring against ’em. Kamal-ud-din especially is full of fight.” He -stopped suddenly, then laughed a little. “I don’t know what you’ll say -to Kamal-ud-din’s latest, by the bye. Whether the performances of the -talisman haven’t quite come up to expectation, or whether he heard of -your threat to keep the luck, and resents it, I can’t say, but he -seems to think the Seal ain’t quite complete. At any rate, a friend of -his called upon me to enquire in the most discreet manner whether I -was disposed to part with you, as there was a good home waiting for -you where the jewel and you would be reunited.” - -“The shameful wretch!” Eveleen’s blue eyes had dilated till they -looked all black. “To dare to suggest such a thing----! And what did -you say?” - -“That his flattering proposals could not be entertained till my wife -was a widow---- Eh? what did you say?” - -“Nothing more? You let him think----?” - -“Oh, I kicked him out. But they saw nothing shocking in the idea, of -course--meant everything to be quite open and above-board, arranged in -the most friendly way----” - -“Well, if you call that friendly!” Tears and fury strove in Eveleen’s -voice. - -“They would regard it as quite friendly to invite a man to divorce his -wife that she might marry some one else. The unfriendly way would be -to take her without asking. Now really, my dear! I thought you would -look upon it as a good joke, or I wouldn’t have told you.” - -“And I suppose he said your wife was a crosspatch, and as ugly as sin, -and altogether you’d do well to be rid of her and get another?” - -“You must think me a very patient fellow, my dear! And ’pon my -honour,” slowly, “I begin to believe I must be.” - -“Ambrose, you have made a joke! D’ye hear, that was a joke! What’s -come to you?” She was laughing hysterically. “And to do it when you -must be cursing yourself for not taking the chance to get rid of me -and start afresh! A new wife who would be English and proper and -suitable and all the things I couldn’t be to save my life!” - -“And wouldn’t be if you could? No, steady! no more of this, please. -Quiet!” - -His firm hand on her shoulder helped Eveleen to choke back the screams -which threatened to burst forth, but she grasped the hand convulsively -and held fast to it. “No, I’ll be good, I’ll be good! I didn’t -mean---- But tell me now--Ambrose, tell me--what have I done? How have -I disappointed you? How will I ever put things right if I don’t know -what’s wrong?” - -Panting painfully, she leaned half out of the bed, still gripping his -hand with both hers, her eyes searching his face. Richard Ambrose, -hating a scene at least as much as most Englishmen, wriggled -uncomfortably. “Really, my dear, I don’t know---- Why”--with a sudden -bright idea--“I thought it was you who were disappointed. Give you my -word I did.” - -“Then you had no business to. But what is it was wrong with me? It -ain’t as though you didn’t know what I was like. We had known one -another so long----” - -“True.” He carried the war boldly into the enemy’s country. “But it -was so long ago that I had forgot the changes time must bring. I had -lived too much alone: I was an old man before I was a young one. But -looking back, I thought--I hoped--I might succeed in making you happy. -I was mistaken, and by involving you in my mistake I wrought you an -irreparable injury.” - -“Ambrose!” Eveleen was as easily diverted as a child. Her eyes filled -with tears, her lip trembled. “What are you saying--a mistake, injury? -That you have injured me, would you say?” - -“Don’t I know from your own lips that you are the most miserable woman -in the world?” he asked bitterly, but it must be confessed, with a -feeling of shame. - -“I didn’t say it! I did _not_! How can you----?” - -“Pardon me, you did--at Qadirabad, five months ago.” - -“But if I did, I never meant it--y’ought to know that! You must -know--you couldn’t have believed it! Swear to me you did not, or I’ll -crawl out of bed and hold to your feet so you can’t get away!” - -“Pray don’t. It ain’t necessary. I’ll swear anything you choose. What -will old Mother Gibbons say to me for letting you agitate yourself -like this?” - -“Mrs Gibbons is a dear sweet soul, and the heart of Dr Gibbons doth -safely trust in her, because she never runs up bills. Indeed, then, -she scolds him when he spends too much on cheroots. Would you have me -turn like her?” - -“Certainly not--in that respect, at any rate.” - -“Then I’ll tell you this--I’d rather be myself, and be scolded by you, -in your most shockingly cold style, than be like Mrs Gibbons--there! -Now, will you let me come back with you to Qadirabad?” - -“Good heavens!” he said helplessly. “Were the hysterics nothing but a -sham, then?” But he saw the perplexity in her eyes changing again into -poignant reproach, and hastened to make amends. - -“No, I’m a fool, forgive me. But you will allow it’s a bit difficult -for a man to follow you into a fresh mood every second minute--eh?” - -“But why would I be in the same mood all the time?” in genuine -perplexity. He laughed shortly. - -“Don’t know, I’m sure, my dear. Blame me as much as you like, but -judge me leniently when you find me slow. I was born like it, and have -very likely got worse.” - -He cut short her assurances that on no account would she have him the -least bit different by departing, on the plea that he feared a -scolding from Mrs Gibbons, and left to herself, Eveleen realised that -she was baffled still. The enigma was not solved, the barrier was -still between them. Compared with the good-comradely relations -existing between Dr and Mrs Gibbons, she and Richard were like -strangers feverishly struggling to behave as near friends. Perhaps, -after all, Richard was right, and nothing else was possible to him. It -was hardly likely he could change much at his age, and the more she -dashed herself against his defences the more uncomfortable and -embarrassed he would be. She must be calm, reasonable, _English_, if -they were to be happy together. “And how will I manage that?” she -asked herself dolefully. “I’ll try--if it’s only to please him, but -it’s a poor chance!” - -Whether from his own feelings alone, or assisted by Mrs Gibbons, -Richard had learnt his lesson. No more hysterics for him! He had taken -up his quarters at Government House--since Colonel Bayard had deputed -him to act as his representative in receiving Sir Henry Lennox when he -landed--and he paid his wife a visit punctiliously morning and -evening, but departed instantly if she showed the least sign of -becoming excited. Under this bracing treatment Eveleen improved -rapidly in health, and was promoted first to a couch on the verandah -and then to taking drives, and was even well enough to be allowed to -accompany her hostess to the shore to welcome the new ruler when he -arrived from Bombay. Everything seemed to conspire to spoil Sir -Henry’s first impression of Bab-us-Sahel. It was bad enough that his -steamer should have been compelled to anchor off the port the night -before, in imminent danger of running upon a reef in the darkness, and -it was undignified for the person invested with supreme military and -political power in Khemistan to be dragged in his boat through the -surf and up the beach by yelling coolies because the tide would not -allow of his landing at the pier. But the ladies watching from their -carriages opined that something more serious must be wrong as the -small bent figure, with dark glasses and long straggling beard, -hobbled up the shore. Sir Henry had brushed aside brusquely the -greetings of the officers awaiting him, and was giving sharp orders, -pointing now to the vessel pitching on the horizon, now to the -headlands on either side of the town. Something had to be done -instantly, that was clear, for not until two or three men had detached -themselves from the group, and mounted and ridden off in hot haste, -did he appear to remember his manners. - -“Sickness on board!” said Mrs Gibbons the experienced, noting that the -port surgeon was one of those who had ridden away. “Now I wonder what -it is--not cholera, I trust! I must see what beds----” - -“Ah, but just wait till Sir Harry has passed!” urged Eveleen, in deep -disappointment. “We don’t _know_ that it’s sickness. And you wouldn’t -make me cut my own brother? There he is--that’s Brian!” indicating a -youth whose tall form towered above that of the General, naturally -short and now bowed with rheumatism. Brian had a large mouth--expanded -further by a cheerful smile--and blue eyes like his sister’s, one of -them closed at the moment in a palpable wink. Eveleen was so much -taken up with responding to this greeting that she was surprised to -find her husband--portentously stiff and correct, as who should say, -“This is none of my doing!” bringing Sir Henry up to the carriage. The -General’s faded blue tunic might have been a relic of the Peninsula, -and he wore a curious helmet of his own invention instead of the -ordinary cap or shako with a linen cover and curtain. But the keen -eyes twinkling through the dark spectacles, and the enormous nose, -would have made him noticeable anywhere, quaint little figure though -he was. He saluted and bowed low as he approached the two ladies in -their best white gowns and flower-trimmed lace caps--Mrs Gibbons -solid, jolly, and dependable; Eveleen all on wires, quivering with -interest and excitement. - -“My chief pleasure in coming to Khemistan,” he said courteously, “was -the prospect of meeting Mrs Ambrose again, but I did not expect to -have the honour so soon.” - -“Ah, but that’s because I have been here for the hot weather,” said -Eveleen eagerly. “But I may go up the river again with Ambrose, may I -not?” - -“So far as the matter rests with me, I shall be only too delighted,” -was the courtly reply, and it took all Eveleen’s self-control not to -cast a glance of triumph at her husband. - -“And how is Black Prince?” she enquired, seeking hastily for safer -themes. - -“A bit seedy just now--we have had a terrible voyage----” his face was -shadowed. “But he’ll soon shake that off.” Then the twinkle -reappeared. “But would not a well-conducted lady have enquired first -after my wife and the girls?” - -“Ah, I never was that!” lamented Eveleen. “But I’ll do it, I’ll do it! -Pray, Sir Harry, has Lady Lennox forgiven me yet for teaching Sally to -jump?” - -“I think I may say she has--particularly since she believes Sally has -forgot the accomplishment.” - -“While all the time Sally’s naughty papa has been keeping it alive in -secret--eh, Sir Harry? Ah then, I know you, you see--and you and Sally -and I will have many a fine gallop yet. I’ve set up a little Arab I’d -like you to see----” - -“With all my heart--but not at present, I fear. Now I must reluctantly -bid----” - -“Ah, but I must make known to you my kind friend Mrs Gibbons here, who -would be Chief Medical Officer if ladies could be doctors. She read in -your face that you had sickness on board while you were still far down -the strand.” - -“Ah, my dear lady!” there was no badinage now in the General’s -voice--“we don’t alarm our gentle friends with these sad matters, but -we have lost fifty-four men from cholera since leaving Bombay. That -was what detained me just now--giving orders for pitching a camp of -isolation immediately on the point yonder. I can do nothing till my -poor fellows are transferred there.” - -“Then Mrs Gibbons is the person you want!” triumphantly. “She has -already reckoned up in her mind how many beds she can put her finger -on in an hour.” - -The General shot a keen look at Mrs Gibbons’s composed face. “By Jove, -ma’am, you’re the woman for me! With your permission, I’ll send over -my own surgeon to consult with you immediately. Ladies, your servant!” - -“Oh, Sir Harry!” cried Eveleen desperately as he turned away, “you’ll -be letting Brian--my brother--come to tiffin, or dinner, at any rate?” - -“Lieutenant Delany shall certainly pay his respects to Mrs Ambrose and -her hostess this evening”--again Brian’s eye sought his sister’s and -closed in a wink--“if his duties will allow. During the day he will be -continuously occupied.” - -“If I might suggest, sir----” they heard Richard’s voice as Sir Henry -stumbled off resolutely through the sand to the waiting horses. They -heard also the General’s answer. - -“No, sir, you may not suggest. There is far too much ‘suggesting’ -here. I take no suggestions from my subordinates.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - THE OLD ORDER CHANGES. - -/It/ was late when Brian Delany found his way to Mrs Gibbons’s -bungalow, so late that the good lady herself--pardonably weary after a -long hot afternoon spent in looking up or improvising hospital -equipment in the company of surgeons ignorant of the limited resources -of the place--had begun to hint that invalids did well to go to bed -early. But when he was heard dismounting at the verandah steps, she -gave up her efforts in despair, contenting herself, as she took her -departure, with the threat that if Brian stayed more than half an -hour, she would get up again and come and turn him out. Eveleen hardly -heard her, so much engrossed was she in greeting her brother. - -“Well, Brian?” sitting up eagerly as he came in. - -“Well, old Evie!” he stooped and kissed her. “Been more than a little -bit seedy--eh?” - -“Ah, what do I signify? Let me look at you, Brian. D’ye know, I -believe you’re--grown!” - -“Will you listen to the woman! Grown, am I? Grown _thin_, my dear, -till you could count the bones of me!” - -“Nonsense, then! You look far too well for that. But I do see, -indeed--yes, there’s a look of hardness----” - -“Hardness about me, would you say? No, indeed, but plenty about the -little old horror you went and handed me over to! Little I thought -’twas a slave I was to be, when you blarneyed me into trying to get -into the General’s family.” - -“Sure it’s all for your good. You look twice the boy you did--twice -the man, I’d say.” - -“Do you tell me that, now? And how many yards of aide-de-camp is the -General to entertain if we all stretch out this way? It’s not an -increase of length, I tell you, but a decrease of girth--a shocking -decrease!” - -“My poor fellow! You look starved, indeed!” - -“Starved, is it? That’s just what I am. How would you help it with a -chief that drinks water as soon as whisky, and can live happy on -country prog? No wine--no beer, even--on active service, and precious -little other times. And hates the smell of a weed----” - -“Ah, nonsense, nonsense! You mayn’t smoke?” - -“Not on service. At Poonah Stewart and I would get away by ourselves -when we couldn’t stand it any longer, and one keep ‘Cave!’ while -t’other indulged. But as often as not the old lad would be after us -before we were done.” - -“Ah, Brian, it’s a reformed character you’ll be, and no thanks to -yourself! And the poverty-stricken look that seems to hang about -you--what of that, now?” - -“That comes of wearing uniform always and all day long, my dear -creature. And when your coat gets shabby, why--‘Hang it, sir! have it -mended. An honest patch won’t shame either you or me, let me tell -you.’” - -“Well, you’re not quite come to that yet.” - -“Am I not, indeed? This is my best coat, ma’am, put on to impress the -ladies on landing. And even in having two, I’m breaking my General’s -rules. What d’ye think is his allowance for a fellow on active -service? Why, just what he stands up in, and nothing else but a pair -of shoes, a second shirt and inexpressibles, a flannel waistcoat for -chilly weather, a towel, and a piece of soap!” - -“But what about coloured clothes?” - -“They’re snakes, I tell you, and he St Patrick! Whether you may wear -’em on leave, I don’t know, for I’ve had no leave since I’ve been with -him, but certainly not within a hundred miles of headquarters. A -shooting-jacket is ‘a deformity of dress,’ and as for a blouse”--this -was a kind of Norfolk coat made in thin materials--“if one met his -eye, believe me, he’d tear it off you and kick it out of the house. -Oh, he’s a holy terror, and no mistake!” - -“The very person you needed to take you in hand, my dear fellow! And -tell me, does he work you hard?” - -“Don’t he, just!” with a hollow groan. “From morning to night--day in, -day out--your nose is on the grindstone. ‘If I thought there was the -remotest chance of your studying,’ says he, ‘I’d allow you time for -it, the same as I do myself, but ’tis no use. So I’ll find you work -instead, just to keep you out of mischief.’” - -“Sure he’s the wise man! And what would he be studying?” - -“Marlborough, Frederick, the Duke--all those old codgers full of plans -of battles like starfishes, with a compass in the corner to show -they’re upside-down! Much good they’d do me or anybody! I’d want to -get them up-sided first, and then they’d be all wrong. And some great -little old Latin book that he hammers bits out of at meals and all -sorts of times, with Alexander’s campaigns in it--for an example and -an incitement, says he.” - -“You’ll be a wonder by the time he’s done with you! And the -work--what’s that like?” - -“Like galloping hell-for-leather through the heat to surprise some -wretched barracks where they ain’t prepared for inspection. And -turning everything topsy-turvy, and hauling everybody over the coals, -and putting up the private soldiers to make complaints, and swearing -till all is blue that there ain’t an officer in the place fit to hold -his commission, and the C.O. and the surgeon ought to be drummed out -of the Army with ignominy! Oh, I tell you they love him down there!” -Brian waved a hand in a direction supposed to be that of Bombay. - -“You have great times indeed! Don’t you enjoy it all?” - -“I believe you! To see a poor wretch of a private trying hard to think -of some grievances, with one eye on the General, who’s so anxious for -’em, and t’other on his own officer, who’s safe to pass on to him the -wigging he gets--it’s rich! But it ain’t what you may call fair play. -Why, the very first thing I was taught when I got into the regiment -was that an officer must never permit a private soldier an interview -without he was full dressed and accompanied by a sergeant. But the -General swears an officer must be accessible to his men day and -night--in their shirt-sleeves if they choose--and no sergeant within a -mile of ’em. D’ye wonder no one knows how he stands?” - -“’Twas like that when they fought in Spain, I suppose.” - -“Oh, no doubt; but this is India, and peace time. Not that I’d quarrel -with anything that made people more friendly, but when you have to -unlearn all you were ever taught----! It’s mad about the men the old -lad is. The officers may go hang, but every private is his good -comrade. The letters they send him! you’d laugh, I tell you--where you -didn’t cry! Well, there y’are now; what d’ye expect these old colonels -and brigadiers, who have spent all their lives in India, to think of -it?” - -“You mean they would not be pleased?” - -“Pleased? Sure they hate the General as heartily as he hates them. And -he hates the Civilians worse. And if there is anything he hates worse -than a Civilian, it’s a Political. So now you see why it’s Old Harry -and the rank and file against the Services and all the old Indians -everywhere.” - -“Ah, if he hates the Politicals--I heard him catch up Ambrose in the -horridest way---- But how can he----” - -“Oh, he don’t mean it a bit. If you sit mum and let him rage over your -head, he’ll be smiling sweetly on you in another five minutes. But if -you give it him back--my word, won’t he kick up a dust! And if you -bear malice, so can he--for ever and ever. He’s the drollest old -chap--like a child in some ways. You tip Ambrose the wink not to -answer him back, and not to use Persian words in speaking or writing -to him--he boasts he don’t understand a syllable of anything but plain -English--and they’ll get on like a house afire.” - -“But, Brian, he ain’t accustomed----” - -“My dear creature, he’s got to get accustomed--or be broke. I do hope -he and Bayard and all the fellows here ain’t going to get their noses -in the air. If they do, the General will rub ’em tidily in the dust -for ’em, and enjoy doing it. But if they’ll just take a little pains -to keep on his soft side--and no man has a softer--we’ll all be the -happiest family in the world.” - -“You will have found the soft side, then?” - -“With intervals, my dear creature--with intervals. Explosions, let us -say, which take you by surprise all the more because you have been -getting on so uncommon well the moment before. But I’m the lucky chap; -only once have I been regularly blown sky-high--and that was your -fault.” - -“It’s trying to tease me y’are, you rude boy.” - -“Not a bit of it. I was riding with him one day--up hill, so for once -we couldn’t gallop, and the old fellow began to do the paternal--bad -luck to him!--enquire into my private affairs, and so on. I was -shaking in my shoes for fear what he might be asking next, when he -suddenly comes out with the question how I got the money to pay my -debts. ‘Oh, glory!’ says I, ‘safe this time, at any rate!’ and told -him ’twas from my sister. And then there was a sort of earthquake and -eruption of Vesuvius all in one, and me lying in little bits at the -bottom. ‘Will you tell me,’ says he at the end, precious stern, ‘how -y’ever dared face me after sponging on a female to get the means to -enter my family?’ ‘And where would I get it,’ says I, plucking up -courage for very desperation, ‘only from the woman from whom I’ve had -everything since she first took care of me as an infant?’” - -“That’s my dear boy!” Eveleen beamed on him. “I wouldn’t ask you to -say better than that.” - -“He saw it--I’ll grant him that--but he was uncommon stiff with me -still. ‘And how much have you paid her back by now?’ he lets out at me -all of a sudden. ‘Why, nothing, General!’ says I, astonished. ‘That, -at least, we can put right,’ says he. ‘Fifty rupees a month, my fine -fellow--and the first month you’re behindhand is your last away from -your regiment.’ I swear to you I thought it cheap at the moment! -Permit me, ma’am, to tender you payment of the first three months’ -instalments.” With a low bow he presented a slip of paper. - -“As if I’d touch it, then! But I’ll always be proud----” - -“You must touch it, and take it and keep it, if you don’t want me -kicked out. Sure I’d lose more than you think----” - -“Ah, well, Ambrose will be pleased. ’Twas his money, after all,” -languidly. “And will you tell me, Mr Brian Delany”--with sudden -animation--“what it is you’d lose if you went back to your regiment? -You have not been falling in love, now? Brian!” with tremendous -certainty, “you have dared to make love to Lucy Lennox? Oh dear, oh -dear! these boys! What will they be doing next?” - -“Not guilty, ma’am! Listen to me now. Stewart it is that’s sweet on -Miss Lucy, and I playing gooseberry for them time and time again. So -there!” - -“Well, go on with you. What about yourself?” - -“You’ll break my heart laughing at me.” But Eveleen read in the tone -that Brian was at least as eager to confess as she was to hear. - -“You know I won’t. Tell me, now. It can’t be Sally?” - -“Sally it is. Sally’s the girl for my money.” - -“But she’s nothing but a little bit of a child yet. Is it thirteen she -is--or fourteen?” - -“How’d I know--or care? That child is as old--as ancient. ‘My wise -little Sally,’ her papa calls her, and she turns the stubborn old -ruffian round her finger as easy as winkin’. And to hear her lecture -your brother, my dear creature you’d think she was her own -grandmother! Give her a year or two, and I’ll marry her without so -much as a ‘by your leave!’ even if General is G.-G. by that time!” - -“Perhaps she won’t have you, my dear fellow.” - -“Then it’s a bachelor I’ll be all my born days. Do you take me, ma’am? -It’s a case! What in the world’s that?” - -“That” was a nightcapped head--the body presumably attached thereto -remaining discreetly out of sight--which appeared at a doorway. -“Three-quarters of an hour!” said a sepulchral voice. “And Mrs Ambrose -still an invalid. Mr Delany, will you be so good as to return to your -quarters, and let your sister go to bed?” - -“I will, ma’am, I will!” Brian winked largely at Eveleen. “I’m a sad -fellow to have brought you here to turn me out, but ask my sister if -all I’ve told her ain’t worth it.” - -“Begone, graceless wretch!” Eveleen was quoting from the -melodrama--miscalled historical--recently staged by the Bab-us-Sahel -Dramatic Club, and Brian, recognising the style common to melodrama, -answered in the same vein. - -“Cruel but virtuous dame, at thy command I go!” and went. - - - -The few days which covered Sir Henry Lennox’s sojourn at Bab-us-Sahel -were well filled. He saw the outbreak of cholera stamped out, he -reviewed the troops, he set on foot plans for improving the landing -conditions, providing a water-supply, and laying out large vegetable -gardens, with a view to preventing the scurvy from which the garrison -suffered. For the present a ration of lime-juice was to be served out, -but it was clear, from the arrangements made for the future, that the -town was to remain in British hands, and knowing people opined once -more that Sir Harry’s visit was to end in the annexation of Khemistan. -This did not appear to be his own opinion, however. He was come, he -said quite frankly, to make the Khans keep their treaties--with such -modification as might seem called for. He had not come to fight, and -he did not for a moment believe that the Khans would provoke a -rupture, but he was quite certain he was going to put an end to the -anomalous condition of things that had obtained hitherto. It was in -his mind, also, that the large British force at Sahar--far up the -river--must be badly in need of inspection by a competent authority, -and this need it was his purpose to supply. The requirements of -Bab-us-Sahel having therefore been observed, noted and pigeon-holed at -lightning speed, the General set out on his way up the river. To the -relief of Richard Ambrose, who had been rather inclined to fear, from -the tone of his references to the Khans, that his mode of dealing with -them would be to knock their heads together and bid them listen to -reason, Sir Harry consented to pay a visit of ceremony to Qadirabad in -the course of his journey. Thus it was only natural that he should -offer the Ambroses a passage in his steamer, since the Khans might -well feel alarmed if he was not accompanied by any representative of -their friend Colonel Bayard, and Eveleen and her husband returned up -the river in state. - -Unfortunately, the added grandeur did nothing to mitigate the -inconveniences of the voyage, but the General himself was so -absolutely unconscious of these that no one else durst refer to them. -Eveleen had her tent on deck as before, and having once made certain -that such comfort as was possible was secured to her, Sir Harry -dismissed the subject from his mind. If they had only been privates, -the officers on board confided ruefully to one another, the General -would have thought no pains too much to make them comfortable, but the -higher ranks were expected to be content with the meagre accommodation -that sufficed for himself. To the honour of his staff be it said that -they loved him too much to grumble at hardships shared with him, and -it must be confessed that no one who did not love him could have -remained in his family for a week. - -Eveleen studied him appreciatively day by day, but from a point of -view other than that of the quaint companionship of Mahabuleshwar. -Half unconsciously, she had acquired something of the Anglo-Indian -attitude of mind in her sojourn up the country, and it helped her to -understand the alarm and dislike with which he was viewed by old -Indians generally. It was perfectly true that he knew nothing of -India, and prided himself on the fact, which in some curious way he -had brought himself to regard as a merit. In fact, ignorance of India -seemed to him an essential qualification for dealing successfully with -Indian affairs--a conviction shared with him by many less -simple-hearted egoists both before and since. Curiously enough, he was -always on the watch to pick up information about things -Indian--historical, geological, agricultural, linguistic,--but the -information must be surprised and as it were snatched from the people -who knew, at moments when they were off their guard. Not only did he -keep his eyes open, but he was not too proud to confess he had been -mistaken. The little book on the Campaigns of Alexander, to which -Brian had alluded, was his constant companion, and he had succeeded to -his own complete satisfaction in reconstructing the itinerary of the -Greek forces, and identifying the various places mentioned with -existing towns. But the whole scheme collapsed under the shock of the -discovery that the river was wont to change its course from year to -year--sometimes from month to month--and that it would be unreasonable -to expect to find a town where it had stood a century ago, much more -two thousand years. This was a severe blow, and for a day or two the -little book was less in evidence. Brian and Eveleen asked one another -wickedly whether the report on the condition of Khemistan--which Sir -Harry was compiling at alarming length--would likewise prove to be -founded on imagination rather than knowledge of the country, but by -degrees they began to perceive a method in the little man’s madness, -and to watch for the lightning questions by means of which he would -inform himself. - -The fame of the General had reached Qadirabad before him, and the -anxiety of the Khans to produce a good impression was shown by their -assiduity in offering him a welcome. A high official was deputed to -meet the steamer before it came in sight of the city, and the river -bank was studded with bearers of enormous trays of sweetmeats, so many -from each Khan. At the Residency other officials were waiting, with -more sweetmeats and a polite offering of ten fat sheep, and it was -clear to Richard and his colleagues of the Agency that the rulers were -both puzzled and nervous. Here was an abrupt little man of terrible -aspect, reputed to be the most ferocious fighter Europe could produce, -and a disciple--if not a relative--of the world-famous Wellington. He -was armed with vague powers--all that was known was that they were -greater than those of any General who had hitherto visited the -country,--but how he meant to use them no one could say. It was not -even known whether he and the Resident Sahib were friends or -enemies--bitterly did the Khans regret that the two men had not met, -that sharp eyes unseen might have observed and reported their -demeanour--nor whether the Resident was still in authority or not. The -one obvious thing seemed to be to make sure of the favour of the -alarming Unknown, and the obvious way of doing it was to show him -every possible honour. A scarlet palanquin of state, with green velvet -cushions, was sent to convey him to the Fort, his staff and that of -the Agency following on richly-caparisoned camels. Besides his own -escort of fifty Khemistan Horse, he had a guard of honour of Arabit -Sardars and their retainers, and at the city gate the younger -Khans--each in his palanquin--met him and escorted him in. Curious -crowds fought for a sight of him and acclaimed him enthusiastically, -and as he mounted the rise to the gateway of the Fort every one -salamed to the ground. Khemistan was doing its best to conciliate the -intruder. - -“And how did he get on with them at all?” asked Eveleen eagerly of her -husband, when the procession had returned, and he was thankfully -divesting himself of the trappings of full dress. - -“So-so. He meant to be all that was charming, but he hasn’t a notion -how to take ’em, and they don’t know what to make of him. He looks -upon ’em as a set of children, because they would have his spectacles -passed round for ’em all to try on, and that’s how he talks to ’em. Of -course the Munshi put all he said into proper form, but they judge by -the tone much more than the words. That dry hard way he has of barking -things out was what impressed ’em, I could see, though he was trying -his utmost to put them at their ease. They don’t like him, and they’re -precious frightened of him--that’s about it, I should say.” - -“If only the Colonel had been here, now!” sighed Eveleen. Richard -looked at her queerly. - -“What good would that have done? He couldn’t have shortened this man’s -huge beak, or got him to go about without spectacles--which frighten -them because they think his eyes are so savage that he wears ’em to -deaden the expression,--or made him speak soft and slow. It ain’t in -the old chap, and he don’t know enough about India to try and -cultivate it if he hasn’t got it. And they know well enough that he’s -been sent here over Bayard’s head--the only thing they can’t make out -yet is whether they’re in it together or not.” - -If Sir Harry were aware of the alarming impression he had produced, he -showed no sign of it, but continued his journey up the river the next -day, leaving with Richard the letter which was to call the Khans’ -attention to the breaches of treaty of which they had been guilty, and -the advisability of mending their ways forthwith. At Sahar he was to -be met by Colonel Bayard, who had been enjoying himself vastly--free -from the responsibility and respectability of the Agency--in his -mission to the wild country on the Ethiopian border. He had made long -journeys on camel-back in disguise, provided for the safety and -sustenance of the British force retiring from Iskandarbagh, settled -various outstanding matters in connection with the small state of -Nalapur--and incidentally embroiled himself with the Governor-General, -who was a bad person to quarrel with. The occasion was the affairs of -Nalapur. Not only did Lord Maryport consider Colonel Bayard had -exceeded his powers in reorganising the government--that was merely -presumption,--but he accused him of deluding the durbar deliberately -by laying claim to powers he knew he did not possess, and then indeed -Colonel Bayard was touched in his tenderest point. An acrimonious -correspondence was in progress, of which he assured himself happily -that he had so far carried off all the honours; but the drawback in -quarrelling with authority is that authority is always in a position -to have the last word--and that word had not yet been spoken. Both -Colonel Bayard and his friends--to whom he read or repeated what he -considered the most telling portions of his letters--forgot this, and -when the news came that Sir Harry Lennox and he had taken a fancy to -one another at first sight, and were working together in the most -amicable way, the Political Establishment in Khemistan forgot its -fears, and settled down contentedly in the conviction that, after all, -things were going on much in the old way. - -The Khans also were hugging this amiable delusion to their souls. -Richard was kept busy with visiting them and receiving their Vakils, -now delivering the papers sent to him from Sahar for the purpose, and -then transmitting the answers. Knowing Colonel Bayard to be their -friend--though without feeling it necessary to requite his friendship -otherwise than in word,--they were quite happy since he still remained -in the country, and bent all their energies, which were small, and -their ingenuity, which was infinite, to the task of enabling him on -their behalf to hoodwink the intruder. With the aid of a judicious -rattling together of shields and tulwars--to give the hint of -unpleasant possibilities in the background if things were pressed to -extremities--they looked forward to tiding over this crisis as they -had done others. Richard was a good deal worried by their attitude. He -could not bring them to realise that they had a second person--and a -very different one--to deal with now, and whenever he tried it they -replied with the warlike demonstrations intended especially for the -General’s benefit. It was quite certain that there was an unusual -amount of coming and going about the Fort. Fresh bands of Arabit -horsemen seemed to be arriving continually, and while some of them -departed again, others remained. Moreover, Richard doubted very much -whether those who went away returned to Arabitistan. From the reports -brought him by his spies, he believed that they were reinforcements -for the garrisons of the desert fortresses of which the Khans boasted -as unreachable and impregnable, and from which Sahar itself might be -assailed in case of need. He could only pass on his observations to -Sir Harry, and try to convince the Khans of the seriousness of the -situation, while doing his utmost to bring them to reason by peaceful -means. - -Eveleen had returned from Bab-us-Sahel full of good resolutions, -determined to take Mrs Gibbons as her model from henceforth. She would -never want to ride at unorthodox hours--virtue was assisted in this -respect by the heat,--and she would benefit society by starting a -farmyard and kitchen-garden. Unfortunately for her good intentions, -Qadirabad was a very different place from Bab-us-Sahel, since mutton, -poultry, and vegetables were all easy to get. She relinquished with a -sigh the idea of a sheep-farm and chicken-run, but a garden she would -have, and achieved--with the aid of the Residency _mali_ and his -underlings--success of a sort. The _mali_ had an unfair advantage in -the perpetual contests waged between them, since he knew his own mind -and did not change it from day to day, while Eveleen’s continual -visions of newer and better arrangements led to weird apparitions of -onions in the flower-beds and violets among the lettuces. Happily the -_mali_ was able, with conscious rectitude, to show that he had a -proper supply of vegetables coming on in regions to which the Beebee -had not penetrated, and instead of starving the Agency staff, Eveleen -escaped with a good deal of teasing on her peculiar horticultural -tastes. But those who had planted the garden were not destined to eat -its fruits. - -“Sure there’s a steamer coming down the river!” Running out on the -verandah dressed for the evening ride, Eveleen stood still to listen. -“Ambrose, d’ye hear?” - -“A steamer to-day? Nonsense!” cried Richard, joining her hastily. “No, -by Jove, it is!” - -“What will it be, I wonder?” in much excitement. “Oh, send the horses -back, and let us go down to the strand.” - -Other people joined them as they neared the path down the low cliff on -which the Residency stood, and waited on the landing-stage. The -_Asteroid_ came round the bend with the light of the setting sun full -on her. - -“Well, now; if it’s not the Resident!” cried Eveleen, as a figure on -the paddle-box took off his hat and waved it to the group in the -shadows. “He must be invalided. See how ill he looks!” - -“As if you could tell at this distance!” said Richard, in his superior -way; but as the steamer drew round to the landing-stage, he had to -acknowledge that Colonel Bayard did look very ill. - -“That attack of fever we heard of will likely have been worse than we -knew. He must go to bed at once.” Eveleen spoke with all the -determination of Mrs Gibbons herself, and Colonel Bayard, hurrying to -shake hands with them as soon as he set foot on shore, heard her. - -“What have I done, Mrs Ambrose, that I am to be sent to bed like a -naughty child? I know there are plenty of people who have the worst -possible opinion of me, but I didn’t expect to find them here.” - -“Sure it’s for your own sake,” she said seriously. “You don’t look fit -to be up.” - -“Morally I may not be, but physically I assure you I am. But I have -had a heavy time this hot weather, and no doubt it’s told upon me. And -I have had a bit of a blow just lately.” - -“Ah!” said Richard quickly. - -“Yes--to make a long story short, I am remanded to my regiment.” - -They stopped in climbing the path, and looked at him incredulously. -Colonel Bayard, the prince of Politicals, deprived of his acting rank -and sent back to do duty with native infantry! The man who had ruled -kingdoms and dispensed lakhs was to return to a despised calling and -its scanty pay. He read their horrified amazement in their eyes, and -raised his hand brusquely. - -“No, don’t pity me too much; keep a little for yourselves. I wish I -were the only person affected, but the fact is--the Political -Establishment is dissolved.” - -“Dissolved?” echoed Richard hoarsely. - -“Destroyed, broken up, cast aside, kicked out. By the fiat of my Lord -Maryport, without the ghost of a reason given.” - -“Lennox!” the word sounded like a curse. Colonel Bayard saw Eveleen’s -mute gesture of protest, and smiled at her. - -“No, Mrs Ambrose, you are right. Old Harry had nothing to do with -it--was as much taken aback as I was. He told me frankly he had been -on the point of writing to recommend the reduction of the Agency, but -certainly not its abolition. Like all those bustling energetic people -just out from home, he thinks we do nothing for our money. Let him -wait till he has had two or three hot weathers in Khemistan! At any -rate, his view of it is that we spend our time drinking beer and -smoking cheroots”--with a rather conscious laugh, for his friends -would hardly have recognised him without a fat cigar in his -mouth,--“and occasionally signing the papers our black clerks bring -us, and he is going to work without any clerks at all. You will be the -victim of his economy, Richard. Even he acknowledges that he must have -some sort of political officer to consult when he’s quite out of his -depth, so I put in a word for you.” - -“As though I would stay here a day without you!” - -“My dear fellow, you must. You are married, you have your wife -here----” he smiled again at Eveleen as she looked back at him from -the verandah steps with brimming eyes. “You can’t take her back to -your regiment. The life would kill her. It ain’t as if she were a -young girl,” he added in a whisper before he followed. - -“True; she ain’t a young girl.” The tone was savage, but Richard knew -his friend was right. A girl who knew India, brought up by a managing -mother accustomed to Indian ways, might have faced the life which had -been his for so many painful years; but Eveleen, knowing as little of -the country as she did of method and contrivance--what would there be -before her but a miserable struggle ending in ruined health and -spirits for both? He was not free to cut loose from Khemistan. - -“So you must swallow the bitter pill, you see,” Colonel Bayard was -saying as they mounted the steps, “and do what you can for my poor -Khans from a distance. By the bye, I didn’t tell you that--this place -is to be closed for the present; you are to go up to Sahar. I shall -have to break it all to them to-morrow. I couldn’t go down the river -without bidding ’em farewell, but it will be one of the hardest things -I have ever done.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - TOO CLEVER BY HALF. - -“/For/ the last time!” said Colonel Bayard, with a comical glance of -self-pity at Richard, as they rode out the next morning preceded by -the chobdars with their silver sticks and followed by the barbaric -escort. - -“Not a bit of it! You’ll never be left mud-crawling with a black -regiment. The G.-G. will find out his mistake in no time, and send for -you back.” - -“It would take a good deal to make him do that. I was promised the -Agency for the down-river states when he sent Lennox here, but there’s -no word of it now. Don’t look so shockingly cut up, Richard. I tell -you it’s a release from bondage for me, after the _lacquey_ way I have -been treated this summer by his lordship--bandied about like a -racquet-ball! Old Lennox would have kept me on as his personal -assistant--doing the deed first and getting permission afterwards--if -I would have stayed; but I asked for furlough instead, and he put the -_Asteroid_ at my disposal to take me down the river in the handsomest -way. A singular character, that old chap, but a thorough good fellow.” - -“I hear he spoke very properly of you at the dinner they gave you -before starting.” - -“Properly? Nay, I assure you I didn’t know where to look. I might have -been Scipio Africanus and Sir Philip Sidney rolled into one, instead -of a failed Political going back to his regiment a poorer man than -when he left it twenty years ago. By the bye, I don’t know whether I -am in order in taking the _sowari_ [retinue] with me to-day. Merely a -private individual now, I suppose.” - -“Not till you have left Khemistan, surely! If Sir Henry’s attitude is -as generous as you say, he couldn’t grudge you the ordinary marks of -respect.” - -“Ay, but to him they ain’t ordinary, and he means to put an end to -’em. He has no chobdars himself, and he’s going to abolish these. An -escort he can tolerate--but only on state occasions, of -course--because it can follow him at a gallop, but fellows walking in -front of him and making him ride slow--never!” - -“How does he ever expect to impress these people?” said Richard -bitterly. “They won’t have an atom of respect for him.” - -“Oh, you should hear him on the subject. He thinks we can’t compete -with the Indians in matters of show and state, so he won’t try. They -will be more impressed by seeing we can do without every single thing -they care about, so he says. And I’m bound to say he lives up to his -theories. I thought so when I dined with him--privately, I mean; not -the _burra khana_--and found everything camp-fashion. The plates and -dishes and so on came out of his canteens--he takes a couple about -with him so as to be able to give dinner-parties, he told me--and what -d’ye think was the principal thing on the table? Why, pork chops and -common bazar stuff at that--and the old chap tucking into them with -real gusto and pressing ’em on me!” - -“Well, if he can survive that sort of thing, he ought certainly to -impress the Khans,” said Richard drily. “But it’s a pity he don’t stay -here under their eye, for they ain’t impressed a bit at present.” - -But in this he was wrong, as appeared speedily. Due notice had been -sent to the Fort of Colonel Bayard’s desire to pay a farewell visit to -their Highnesses, and the proper message of welcome received in -return. But the message was couched in terms more flowery and formal -than quite suited the intimate relations which had prevailed between -the Resident and his charges, and there was no sign on the road of the -messengers who should have met the procession at stated points and -implored the visitor to hasten, since he alone could pour the -snow-cooled sherbet of delight into the parched mouth of expectation. -The reason for this lapse from good manners appeared on the visitors’ -arrival at the Fort, for it seemed that a sudden illness had -prostrated the ruling family at one blow. One Khan after another for -whom Colonel Bayard enquired was declared to be sick, the attendants -adding intimate and distressing details on a scale that did credit to -their memories--or possibly their imaginations. - -“Oh, let them alone!” said Richard, in a hasty whisper. “They funk -meeting you.” - -“But why should they funk meeting me? Nay”--to the embarrassed -attendants,--“if their Highnesses are indeed so ill, I must postpone -my journey, for I could not dream of leaving Khemistan while those who -have been to me as sons are lying between life and death. I will send -my own physician to visit them, and I myself will spend each day at -the Palace, that I may be at hand the moment they call for me.” - -Hurried consultations ensued, messengers came and went, and at last -the chief spokesman advanced again. “Let the Resident Sahib be pleased -to enter. Rather than force him to delay his departure, and incur the -wrath of his lord the General Sahib”--Colonel Bayard stiffened -perceptibly,--“their Highnesses will bedew the blossoms of affection -with the tears of regret even at the risk of their health.” - -He paused for a moment to see whether the visitor would take the hint, -then sighed and led the way in. Apparently the Khans thought it safer -to receive their fallen friend in a body, for the official disregarded -Colonel Bayard’s request to be allowed to pay his respects to them -separately, which would have seemed more natural. If they did not -appear to be sick, at any rate they all looked very sorry for -themselves when he and his assistant faced at last the row of seated -figures on their cushions. Long wadded coats concealed their pleated -muslin tunics and wide silk trousers, and the only touch of brightness -was given by the gay kincob which covered their flowerpot-shaped caps. -As politeness demanded, one and all declared that the mere sight of -the fortunate face of the Resident Sahib had instantly banished all -traces of illness, and then hurried on to enquire whether he also was -well and prosperous. The formalities of salutation, perfunctory though -they might be, took some time when each Khan had to be addressed and -to reply separately, and it was beginning to look as though the whole -interview would be occupied with such matters, when Sir Henry Lennox’s -health and prosperity came under discussion as well. The example was -set by Gul Ali Khan, the venerable white-bearded head of the family, -whose memory went back to the days of conquest, when the wild band of -Arabit chieftains had swooped down from their fastnesses upon -Khemistan, and dispossessing the native rulers, reigned in their -stead. He was the last survivor of the conquerors, and wore with -dignity the turban which proclaimed him Chief of his house--the -coveted emblem which would not descend to the son for whom he would -fain have secured it, but to an interloper, the son of his father’s -old age. This interloper, Shahbaz Khan, a handsome dapper -man--absurdly young-looking to be the brother of the aged Gul Ali--sat -beside him, and took up the strain of affectionate enquiry. For the -Khans positively overflowed with anxiety for the General’s health, and -their enquiries were couched in such terms of affection that even -Colonel Bayard--loath as he was to believe it--could not mistake their -drift. His day was over and done with; Sir Henry Lennox was the rising -sun. - -It was a bitter pill, but Colonel Bayard would not have been himself -had he not done his best to take advantage of this new loyalty to -influence his faithless charges for their good. When all the questions -all the Khans could think of on Sir Henry’s affairs had been asked and -answered, and before they could start on those of the -Governor-General, he interposed a courteous hope that their admiration -for the General’s character would make it easy for them to satisfy him -on the subject of the breaches of treaty. Instantly a change that -might be felt passed over them, as though each face had withdrawn -itself behind a veil. Gul Ali answered with dignity-- - -“The Resident Sahib need not fear. The treaties we have made we shall -keep, provided the English keep theirs.” - -This did not sound very hopeful to the man who had been trying in vain -for so long to get them to keep those very treaties, but Colonel -Bayard answered politely-- - -“Of that your Highnesses need have no fear while matters are in the -hands of the General. I rejoice to be able to leave Khemistan with all -difficulties so happily arranged.” - -Gul Ali’s expression was a little fatuous, as he said like an -automaton, “The treaties we have made we shall keep, but we will sign -no new treaty.” - -Since it was known to Colonel Bayard that Lord Maryport intended to -impose new and stricter obligations on the Khans, owing to their -persistent breaches of former treaties, he did not feel able to say -more than--“It is not for me to anticipate what the General may have -to say to your Highnesses, but if the old treaties are kept there will -certainly be no need for a new one.” - -Khair Husain Khan, a clever-looking man with rather Jewish features, -interposed. “The English pledged themselves not to interfere in any -way with our rights over our own subjects. To that we hold!” -triumphantly. - -“Yet is it well for your Highnesses so to treat your subjects that -they flee to the protection of the English?” - -“If they do, we will have them back!” put in young Kamal-ud-din -arrogantly. “Yes, even if they have to be torn from the hem of the -General Sahib’s skirts!” - -This, or something like it, was the Khans’ latest exploit, since their -officials had invaded the boundaries of the Sahar Cantonment, and -dragged away a number of unfortunates who had sought refuge there from -their oppressors. But it seemed to be recognised that this was going -rather far, for Khair Husain said hastily, with a soothing wave of the -hand-- - -“The wretches had failed to pay their taxes, as the Resident Sahib -knows. If they were allowed to escape, all Khemistan would seek an -asylum with the British.” - -“But why did they fail to pay?” asked Colonel Bayard boldly. “Was it -not because it was known they had amassed riches, and their taxes were -so much increased as to strip them of all?” - -Gul Ali laughed complacently. “True--quite true. It is not well for -subjects to grow rich, for they become troublesome. If they heap up -wealth, it must be for their masters.” - -“Since this is the last time I shall see the face of your Highnesses, -let me beg once more that you will look at this matter differently. It -is all of a piece with your imposing tolls designed to kill the -traffic on the river. A wealthy people is an honour and a strong -support to princes, and the making of money by honest means should be -encouraged, not hindered.” The black looks bent on Colonel Bayard made -him pause, and he added, with some emotion, “Your Highnesses will not -hear me, I see. But let me entreat you to listen to the General, -though his tongue be strange, and he neglect the forms of ceremony I -have always been careful to use. Should he propose an interview, speak -to him plainly of what is in your hearts. He will do this in any case, -for it is not his custom to disguise his meaning.” - -Gul Ali rode off hastily upon a side-issue. “It is not well to meet -the envoys of the Farangis in consultation nowadays,” he said. “There -was a certain Ethiopian Sardar who did so.” - -The taunt was a bitter one--and worse, deserved,--for at the outset of -the Ethiopian disasters the British Envoy, struggling desperately in -the toils cast about him, had stooped to invite the foremost of his -assailants to a conference, with the intention of making him a -prisoner. In the remotest corners of Asia stray Englishmen were to rue -the attempt for many a day, though the Envoy had paid with his life -for trying to use the weapons of men better acquainted with them than -he. But it had been cast in Colonel Bayard’s teeth before, and he met -it with a bold counter-attack. - -“True, Khan Sahib, and it was not the Sardar who suffered. Had the -treachery been his, would it have surprised you?” - -“Nay, but it was the Elchi Sahib’s!” came in chorus. - -“And he paid the penalty. But has such treachery never been known in -Khemistan?” - -“Never on the part of a Farangi!” promptly. - -“I thank your Highnesses in the name of my country. Has it ever been -known of any Farangi anywhere?” - -“Never until now. But what one Farangi has done, another may do.” - -“I think not. The Elchi’s deed has been condemned by every Farangi who -heard of it. I know of none who would imitate it--least of all the -General.” - -“He had better not!” cried Kamal-ud-din rudely. “He comes to Khemistan -with a few hundred white soldiers, who are even now dying fast of -sicknesses great and small, while our armies are numbered by -thousands, and they are growing every day. Should he seek to defy or -betray us, death such as the Elchi met with will be the least thing he -has to fear.” - -Astonished and displeased, Colonel Bayard made as if to rise from his -chair. “I must ask leave of your Highnesses to retire----” he was -beginning, but Shahbaz Khan interposed hastily. - -“Nay, this is shameful talk! O my brother, is it to go forth to the -world that the Khans of Khemistan permitted such things to be said in -their hearing concerning their father and protector, the Bahadar -Jang?” - -“Nay, nay!” said Gul Ali timorously. “Youth speaks with the tongue of -youth, which is headstrong and foolish. The General Sahib will know -how to regard the folly.” - -The mildness of the rebuke gave Kamal-ud-din fresh courage. “The -General Sahib has nothing to fear if he comes to us in peace and -openness of mind,” he said sullenly, “But who is he that we must guard -our tongues when speaking of his greatness? He may call himself -Bahadar Jang” [_valiant in fight_]--this was one of the polite -epithets employed by the Khans in his interview with them which Sir -Harry, who was not a conspicuously modest man, save in the presence of -the fair sex or the Duke of Wellington, had accepted with some -complacency as merely appropriate,--“but in all his years of warfare -he has not taken spoil enough to put a single diamond in his -sword-hilt!” - -“Farangi Generals don’t go to war for the sake of loot,” said Colonel -Bayard. “Any spoil the General Sahib might take he would present to -his and my august mistress, the Queen of England.” He turned slightly -to bow towards the large engraving of the young Queen which hung -crookedly on the wall--suggesting that it had been put there hurriedly -when the interview was found inevitable--very sleek of hair, very -lofty of brow, sweetly simpering as to expression, and obviously -overburdened with a headgear recalling the mural crown of antiquity. -Richard followed his example, and the Khans salamed perfunctorily. The -words seemed to have given them a new idea. - -“Then the rulers of Farangistan also do not like their subjects to be -too rich,” chuckled Gul Ali. - -“To strip a conqueror of his booty is poor policy,” said Kamal-ud-din -with a fine air of detachment. “My Sardars will always be allowed to -keep what they win.” - -“Lest, being robbed of their due by their own master, they should seek -it at the hands of his enemies,” said his cousin Karimdâd, going a -step further. The prudent Khair Husain pulled them up hastily. - -“Nay, nay; what foolish talk is this? Did not the General Sahib refuse -at our hands the great gift we offered him, though the Lât Sahibs who -visited us before accepted a lesser one?” - -This was another of Colonel Bayard’s troubles--the simplicity with -which two Generals fresh from home had accepted the large sums of -money ceremonially offered them on their way up the river towards -Ethiopia. Apparently no one who knew the interpretation that would be -placed upon their action had liked to warn them of it, with the result -that the two wholly innocent soldiers were regarded by the Khans as -their pensioners for the future. He took refuge in sententious -generalities. - -“It was taught me in my youth that the richest man is he who has -fewest wants. May we not then say that the enemy most to be dreaded is -the man who needs nothing for himself?” - -For once the Khans appeared impressed, and before the effect could -wear off he asked permission to depart, leaving them to digest his -words. Each and all overwhelmed him with demands that he would assure -the General of their affectionate interest in his welfare, and thus -reminded afresh of his own eclipse, he escaped at last. It was in one -way a relief to be offered no more substantial parting gifts than the -wreaths of strongly-scented yellow flowers with which he and Richard -were invested with due ceremony, but there was a sting in the -omission. A robe of honour and a jewelled sword would not have cost -the Khans much--even if he had kept them, like the Generals, instead -of refusing them. - -“Queer set of chaps those,” growled Richard, as they rode away -decorated with their floral boas. “Every time I see ’em I feel it more -strongly.” - -“I fear they are hopeless,” responded Colonel Bayard, with unusual -depression. “If they won’t take Lennox seriously, they’re done for. He -ain’t going to stand any nonsense.” - -“Is the country to be annexed, then?” - -“I believe not. But he is very strong on getting rid of the family’s -collective authority, and setting up a single Khan with full -responsibility. And that will mean the end of all things to the rest.” - -“But very good for Khemistan, and our relations with it.” - -“True. You look at the matter in a common-sense light, but it’s a -positive pain to me to think of the extinction of this benevolent -patriarchal rule.” - -Richard wondered a little at his leader’s idea of benevolence, but -still sought to comfort him. “Perhaps they’ll all refuse to accept the -change.” - -“You say that, knowing how sadly ready they always are to intrigue -against one another? D’ye know that Khair Husain sent to the General -secretly the one night he was here, to try to curry favour with him?” - -“No, indeed. Khair Husain? But he ain’t in the running for the -succession, even.” - -“He meant to be. He offered to declare for us if we would make him -Chief Khan and back him up against the rest. The spies should have -told you. Not that there’s anything to complain of in old Harry’s -action in the matter. He told the Vakil that he couldn’t deal with -Khair Husain unless he spoke in the name of the rest--which of course -he couldn’t. Then the fellow was idiot enough to say that if he -appeared to take part against us, we were kindly to understand his -heart was in the right place nevertheless, to which the General simply -replied that he wasn’t going to help him to deceive the other Khans. -If he wanted to take our side, he must come out and do it openly. Exit -the Vakil highly disgusted.” - -“Serve the rascal right! But we shall have plenty of that sort of -thing if Sir Harry presses ’em hard.” - -“I believe you--particularly if it occurs to Gul Ali to try to square -him in the matter of the succession. Has the old man been trying any -fresh tricks to get the turban for Karimdâd, d’ye know?” - -“Oh, he’s always at it--trying to make a party in his favour among the -other Khans, and he has been uncommonly busy lately.” - -“I thought so--from the extra special affection in Shahbaz Khan’s -manner to him. That chap is a deep one.” - -“Shahbaz Khan? I suppose so. But after all, he is the rightful heir, -and he has to sit by and look on while his brother tries to steal his -inheritance away. Gul Ali has a good deal to offer, and poor Shahbaz -can only give promises at present. You haven’t turned against him, -have you?” - -“I? No, certainly not. But I have always a weak spot for Gul Ali, and -to see Shahbaz fawning upon him----” - -“But what can the fellow do? There’s no open war. He can only keep the -peace--and keep his eyes open. They’re a nice set--all the lot of ’em. -I dare be bound Kamal-ud-din’s the only one that wouldn’t sell the -rest to the General for the promise of the turban, and that’s because -he don’t care about it. So long as he has Umarganj to retire to, and a -caravan to plunder now and then, he’s happy.” - -“He seemed precious full of fight, I noticed. What’s that new -decoration he sports so conspicuously? They can hardly have got back -that Luck--what was it called?--which was stolen years ago.” - -“I’m afraid they have--and I’m afraid it’s my fault.” Richard told the -story of the Seal of Solomon, and Colonel Bayard laughed. - -“Well, I don’t suppose it will make much difference, though they may -think it will. Mrs Ambrose is the only sufferer so far, it seems to -me.” - -“I was going to ask you if you would get me something in the way of -jewellery in Bombay--to give her. Fact is, I’m in a precious awkward -position. I think I told you she had spent a lot of money in paying -the debts of that brother of hers--the General’s A.D.C.? Well, if -you’ll believe me, the fellow’s begun to pay it back!” - -“You couldn’t well sound more disgusted if he had begun borrowing -afresh! But I see your difficulty. You feel bound to lay it out on -something for her personal use? By all means--I quite agree with you. -Give me some idea what you want, and I shall be honoured with the -commission.” He glanced across approvingly at the younger man. He had -not looked for such delicacy of feeling from Richard Ambrose, who -might have been expected to welcome the return of the money too -eagerly to think of the circumstances, and he stretched out a hand and -laid it kindly on his shoulder. “You feel you ought not to have -brought your wife to Khemistan? But cheer up, my dear fellow! Her -health and spirits have stood it amazingly so far. If only my own dear -wife---- But I shall soon be with her at home now, so I must not -repine. You ain’t afraid of Sahar for Mrs Ambrose? Don’t let them -frighten her by calling it ‘the Graveyard.’ It’s not that it’s -unhealthy, simply that the desert round is packed with graves--a -burial-place for thousands of years, I dare say.” - -“She ain’t frightened--not she! Haven’t you observed that ladies never -are frightened or miserable about the things they ought to be--that -you expect them to be? They go through ’em as cool as a cucumber. And -then some ridiculous little thing, that no man in his senses would -ever think of again, they go and break their hearts about!” - -“Indeed I had not noticed. I fear I have always taken it for granted -Mrs Bayard would be alarmed, and she has indulged me by letting me -think so. Very kind of her, ’pon my word! But I trust the other half -of your observation ain’t true. I should be sorry to think I had made -my wife unhappy--however innocently.” - -His tone was so anxious and grieved that Richard administered comfort -hastily. “Oh, don’t be afraid. If you ever did such a thing, Mrs -Bayard would know it was unintentional, trust her! I wish Mrs Ambrose -enjoyed that consolation.” - -“Tell her so--and she will,” suggested Colonel Bayard. - -“But I’m hanged if it would be true. Tell you what--a cross-grained -fellow who has lived all his life alone has no business to marry. It’s -no happiness for either of ’em.” - -“Ask Mrs Ambrose,” said Colonel Bayard again. - -Mrs Ambrose’s husband smiled reluctantly. “You know as well as I do -that whether the answer I received was that she was happy or -miserable, it would be liable to be reversed the next moment, for no -reason that anybody could perceive!” - -“The very wife for you, Richard, my good fellow!” Colonel Bayard shook -his head wisely. “You ain’t allowed to presume on your happiness, nor -yet to persist in your misery, for if you ain’t in a new mood a -quarter of an hour later, Mrs Ambrose will be! Be thankful for your -good fortune, I tell you. Most men would give their ears for such a -wife as yours--and a brother-in-law a friend at court to boot!” - -“I never thought I should have to be grateful for being related to -that young rip Brian!” growled Richard. - -“Well, if you ain’t grateful, I am for you. The General may pride -himself on never taking a suggestion, but he can’t be altogether -uninfluenced by the members of his own family. And if you can make use -of that influence in favour of my poor foolish Khans, they and I will -bless you yet.” - -Not even the chilliness of that last interview could lessen Colonel -Bayard’s sense of responsibility for the wayward charges he had -watched over so long. Despite all his admiration for him, Richard -waxed a little impatient when he thought of it. It would be uncommonly -good for the Khans to come in contact with some one who did not mind -letting them know that he saw through their foolish stratagems, and -would brush away their subterfuges--however roughly. Colonel Bayard, -with the kindest intentions, had left them in a fool’s paradise too -long; they thought the length of their tether was infinite. But unless -he was much mistaken, the old warrior now at Sahar would bring them up -resolutely with a round turn before very long. Even now, from certain -enquiries which had been addressed to him, Richard judged he was -preparing to do this. - -There was nothing shilly-shally about Sir Henry Lennox’s methods. He -had been ordered to disband the Political Establishment, and that -unlucky body faded like the baseless fabric of a vision. The -_Asteroid_, in bringing Colonel Bayard, brought also orders, addressed -to Richard, dealing with the Qadirabad Agency and its staff. The place -was to be closed and left in charge of a reduced guard with one -European officer, to prevent plundering, and a few servants. Though -there was to be no Resident in future, it would no doubt be necessary -to send frequent envoys to the Khans, and a European-built house in -healthy surroundings was a prize not lightly to be let go. The rest of -the inmates went various ways. Some were summoned to Sahar--the -Ambroses, that part of the Khemistan Horse which was not already with -the General, Captain Crosse, Sir Dugald Haigh, and a few other -officers whose units were in the country. But most followed Colonel -Bayard by the next steamer down the river--first to Bab-us-Sahel and -thence to Bombay, where the outraged Services, already on bad terms -with Sir Harry, swore that even if Lord Maryport’s inspiration had not -come from him, the brutal haste with which the order had been carried -out was all his own, and vowed vengeance accordingly. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - DINNER AT THE GENERAL’S. - -/As/ usual after the cool weather had begun, the river was beginning -to go down, and it was no easy matter for the _Nebula_ to pick her way -up-stream. As her captain said pathetically, “If the sandbanks would -only stay where they were, you’d know where _you_ were. But when a -great beast of a shoal was in one place when you went down the river, -and on the return voyage you found it somewhere else quite different, -where _were_ you?” A further handicap was imposed by the necessity of -towing two or three large flat-bottomed boats--carrying the fortunes -of the Eurasian and native clerks, peons and other underlings, whom -Sir Harry had selected for Sahar from the derelict staff of the -Qadirabad Agency,--since these displayed a positive genius in fouling -the bank, the shoals, the frequent islands, floating tree-trunks, one -another, the ship herself, and everything else possible and -impossible. But despite all obstacles, progress was made somehow, and -Brian, who had come down by sailing-boat to meet the steamer a few -miles below its destination, was able to assure his relatives that -they would get in comfortably in time for dinner. - -“Y’are to dine with us, by the way,” he said. “The General will take -no denial. We tried to put it to him that you’d rather be getting -comfortable in your own quarters the first night, but the old lad said -that was just it--the servants would be settling your things for you -while you were being properly fed. So we saw him safely established -with dear Munshi--he always calls the chap that, as if ’twas his -name--and Stewart started out to borrow crockery fit for a lady to eat -off, while I came down to meet you.” - -“Who will he be borrowing from?” asked Eveleen curiously. - -“How’d I know? The Mess, I suppose, or some of the civilians--they’re -the boys for style. Don’t be afraid--Stewart will do things for you as -they ought be done, or die.” - -“Has the General picked up the country talk yet?” - -“Has he not, indeed!--in spite of all his sarcastic remarks! He came -out t’other day with _bundibus_--meaning _bandobast_, I suppose as pat -as you please, and Stewart and I winked the other eye behind his back -till we nearly burst. But listen now, how he’ll be leaving his mark on -the map. There’s some forsaken place up beyond Pagipur, where the -Khemistan Horse are to have a post to keep the tribes in order. Just a -heap of ruins--old fort and so on, but I suppose it had some sort of -name once. Anyhow, the General says it shall have a new one now, and -he’ll compliment Gul Ali Khan by naming it after him. Quite so--Gul -Aliabad; everybody agreeable--most neat and appropriate. ‘Not a bit of -it!’ says the old lad; ‘far too long; call it Alibad and be done with -it.’ Munshi and your humble servant venture to point out that ain’t -grammar--or whatever you call it. Quick as lightning the old fellow -barks out, ‘The Lennoxes make their own grammar. Alibad’s the name, -and be hanged to it and you!’ So there you are, _hukm hai_, [it is an -order] unless future ages dare to correct old Harry’s grammar--which -the present one won’t while he’s alive.” - -“D’ye expect us to believe that yarn, Brian?” asked Richard, shifting -his cheroot lazily for an instant. - -“Just as you please. Sure it won’t hurt me if you don’t--only -yourself. Now, Evie, be on the watch for the first sight of your new -home. Between this island and the next you’ll get the full view of it -in all its sandiness.” - -Undoubtedly the prospect was a sandy one--particularly so after the -rich black soil of the Qadirabad district, with its countless villages -embowered in the vivid green of the _nîm_ groves. Immediately ahead -was a long low island--fortified within an inch of its life, as Brian -pointed out; the great battlemented walls and bastions rising from the -very edge of the water--to the right a shapeless collection of mud -hovels straggling out into the desert, and to the left an assemblage -of similar buildings, not quite so aimless-looking, since it centred -round a more or less ruinous fort on a low hill. This was Sahar, the -fortified island was Bahar, and the native town on the farther bank -Bori--a name which naturally lent itself to innumerable puns on the -lips of the young gentlemen quartered at Sahar. If military exigencies -left any room on Bahar for vegetation, it did not venture to show -itself over the battlements, but the plumes of scattered date-palms -mitigated a little the prevailing sand-colour of the buildings on -either bank. - -“I wonder why would it all look so dead and ruined?” said Eveleen, in -some dismay, as they drew in to the shore. “Like some place in Egypt -that nobody has lived in for two thousand years.” - -“Pray, my dear, say something original,” said her husband impatiently. -“It’s impossible for anybody to mention Khemistan without comparing it -with Egypt.” - -“But if it’s not like anything but Egypt, how would I say it was?” she -demanded triumphantly. “Tell me now, Brian--this place which I mustn’t -say is like Egypt, whereabouts in it do we live?” - -“Ah, not here, I tell you! Sure the new town is a mile out. The -General was to send horses for you, that you mightn’t be delayed while -they landed your own. He wanted to _puckerow_ [commandeer] a -side-saddle from one of the ladies in Cantonments, but I told him -you’d be just as happy with a stirrup thrown over a man’s saddle, and -he listened to me for once.” - -Eveleen was quite satisfied, but her husband was not, unless his -expression belied him. The horses were duly waiting, and she flew into -the saddle with all the ease of past disgraceful experience--so Brian -declared,--to the great interest of her fellow-passengers. It would -have been too much to expect Richard to be pleased at this -unconventional method of travelling, but she did think he need not -have muttered something that sounded like “Circus tricks!” as he -gathered up the reins and put them into her hand. When Brian had -directed the servants where to go, they rode out of the town--which -looked more than ever like one of those deserted cities one reads of -in the Nearer East, uninhabited, but as habitable as it ever was. As -the sun neared the horizon, however, the inhabitants began to show -themselves lazily at their doorways, and children came scrambling over -the rubbish-heaps, on which everything seemed to be built, to stare at -the riders. Beyond stretched a sea of sand dotted with tombstones, -which seemed to extend as far as eye could reach, and then they came -suddenly upon a great cantonment, with solid houses covered with -shining _chunam_, and gay with rows of bright-coloured _chiks_, and -long ranges of “lines,” large enough to accommodate several regiments. - -“Somebody’s folly!” remarked Brian sententiously, pointing with his -whip. “They’ll have sunk a pretty penny in building this big place, -and it’s said the neighbourhood ain’t healthy, though we haven’t found -anything wrong with it as yet. This way, Evie!” - -Passing two sentries, they rode into a compound which was a miniature -of the desert without--so wide was it and so sand-swept,--with an -enormous house at the far end, like a small town in itself. The -_chiks_ were being drawn up now that the heat of the day was over, and -on the verandah stood a small spare figure with grey beard blowing -about in the breeze. - -“Why, there’s my old lad--loose!” said Brian, much perturbed. “I hope -he’ll not have been getting into mischief. Stewart will be certain to -say ’twas my fault. But I ask you, could I have locked him into the -office, and told Munshi to sit on him? That’s the only thing would -really keep him quiet. Happily there’ll be three of us to look after -him next week, if his nephew who’s on sick leave turns up all right. -Now what _has_ he been after, I wonder?” - -“Welcome, a thousand times welcome, Mrs Ambrose!” cried Sir Harry, -hobbling with perilous haste down the steps. “These young fellows call -this place a desert, but it blossoms like the rose to-night. Allow -me!” he lifted her paternally from the saddle. “Oh, fie, fie! what an -uneasy journey you must have had on that contrivance! Ambrose, I am -very glad to see you. Plenty to do, believe me--start to-night. But -first we’ll have dinner--at once.” - -“I beg your pardon, General, but ’twas not to be for an hour yet,” put -in Brian. - -“Don’t trouble yourself about that, my lad. I have put it forward an -hour--bustled the cook a bit.” The General’s voice was happy and -triumphant. “Knew your sister would be starving. It’s coming in now.” - -“Ah, Sir Harry, but you’ll let us have a second to make ourselves -respectable and get the sand off?” urged Eveleen. - -“Sand, ma’am? I’ve been out in it a good part of the day, and look at -me! No, no; come to dinner.” - -“Ah, but you were born tidy!” she sighed, giving her clothes furtive -shakes and pulls, and hoping fervently it was not to be a -dinner-party. In this she was reassured when Sir Harry led her into a -vast dining-hall, with one absurdly small table spread in the midst. -The servants hovering about looked unhappy, and Brian said something -under his breath. - -“Will I go and look for Stewart, General? Sure he mayn’t know of the -change of hour.” - -“No, no, lazy fellow! he must put up with a cold dinner. These -youngsters are apt to grow negligent where there are no ladies--eh, -ma’am?” - -Gathering from Brian’s silence that she must not attempt to defend the -maligned Stewart, Eveleen found herself gallantly placed at the head -of the table, and heard her husband and brother warned they would be -put under arrest forthwith if they let her so much as touch a -carving-knife. While they wrestled with the dishes placed before her, -in silence save for the enquiries necessary to the polite carver of -the day, Eveleen looked down the table at the General, beaming through -his glasses opposite her. - -“It’s a big house you have here, Sir Harry! Sure it must feel like -living in a church.” Her eyes wandered round the huge room. - -“Glad it inspires you with such creditable sentiments, ma’am. There’s -another about the same size waiting for you. These Khemistan -Politicals knew how to make the money fly. No reflection on you, -Ambrose--it was before your day. Besides, they needed a big place to -house the establishment. A hundred and fifty souls in this house -alone, besides the servants--until Lord Maryport’s order came. Now -there won’t be forty, when we have you all at work.” - -“But how will you get the work done by such a few, with so much fever -about?” asked Eveleen in dismay. - -“Fever, ma’am? there’s no fever! What put that into your head?” - -“Why, all the talk at Qadirabad was that you had half the army in -hospital!” she cried. Her husband came to her help, for the General -was looking wrathful. - -“That was undoubtedly the impression when we left, General. I believe -the Khans shared it.” - -“They did, did they? And that’s why they have been so impudent, I -haven’t a doubt! Well, the next Vakils they send shall have a nice -little bone-shaking ride over the hills, and see two or three thousand -men trotted about--just to show ’em. My beautiful camel battery will -open their eyes a bit, I promise them. D’ye ever see a camel battery, -ma’am?--the dear solemn beasts looking so philosophical with their -noses up in the air, and dragging the nine-pounders as if they were -feathers!” - -“Have you ever been with camels on the march, General?” asked Richard, -bitter reminiscence in his voice. - -“Never, but I shall try ’em on my little trip to Pagipur. Why, ain’t -they satisfactory?” - -“Sure you’ll find you can’t get _fond_ of a camel, Sir Harry,” said -Eveleen. “You couldn’t have one tied up outside your tent, as you -would Black Prince and Dick Turpin, the way they’d put their noses in -and ask for a bit of biscuit. A camel would take a bit of you -instead--without asking.” - -“One for me!” chuckled Sir Harry. “What nice beasts horses are, ain’t -they? But this husband of yours is looking mighty superior over my -follies, ma’am. It’s high treason--or ought to be--to hold up a -commanding officer to the contempt of his subordinates. Don’t you do -it again!” - -“Never--till the next time!” Eveleen assured him. “And did you get the -third horse you were thinking of?” - -“I did--worse luck! The uneasiest beast in creation, I believe. Selima -is her name officially, but that ribald brother of yours dubbed her -Tippetywink--how he spells it _I_ don’t know--and now she answers to -nothing else.” - -“Because you’d not dare even wink when you’re riding her, General. She -takes it as an invitation to dance--you’ll see, Evie.” - -“Not with me on the lady’s back she won’t,” grumbled Sir Harry. “Any -little frivolity of that sort Miss Selima and I will have out by -ourselves in private. She’s as undependable as--the Khans. D’ye ever -hear of the dodge, Ambrose”--turning suddenly on Richard--“of having -two seals, one for ordinary use, and t’other just a little different, -so that if you want to deny it you can point out that it can’t be -yours? That’s what it seems to me our friends have been up to just -lately.” - -“Yes, General; I have heard of the trick.” Richard spoke with notable -lack of enthusiasm. How was he to fulfil his pledge to Colonel Bayard -to do his best for the Khans if the fools were up to these dodges -already? Sir Harry caught him up eagerly. - -“Well, you shall see after dinner. I am practically convinced, but I -won’t act unless I’m positively certain. The Governor-General is very -strong on that, too, and I’m glad of it, for I was afraid he was -unjust about poor Bayard, and whatever happens to these chaps ought to -be absolutely clear and above-board.” - -Talking, as he did, continuously and at railroad speed, it might have -seemed difficult for the General to satisfy his hunger, but he ate as -fast as he talked, with a kind of mechanical action. Presumably some -one had instructed him in the deadly nature of bazar pork, for that -delicacy did not appear on the menu. Though the table service came -obviously from one or more canteens, the dinner had evidently been -carefully chosen, and a lady’s probable tastes consulted in the -selection of sweet dishes; but it was naturally not improved by being -put forward--the only wonder was that it was not worse. Bad or good, -however, there was little time to savour it, for Sir Harry set the -pace, and allowed no pauses. It did not strike Eveleen at first that -he was mischievously determined to get the meal over before the absent -Stewart could return, but she realised it when, just as the dessert -was put on the table, a worried face appeared for an instant in the -doorway, with two laden coolies dimly visible behind. The one word -“Jungly!” floated bitterly to the ears of the diners, and the General -exploded in such a paroxysm of mirth as might have betrayed into -unfair suspicions those who had not seen that he drank nothing but -water. - -“And now he’s cursing me in blackfellows’ talk!” were the first -coherent words to obtain utterance. “Why don’t he use the Queen’s -English like a gentleman? Captain Stewart, come and apologise to Mrs -Ambrose for being absent all dinner-time. Make no mistake; I am very -seriously displeased with you.” - -But the unhappy Stewart had betaken himself out of hearing, probably -to dismiss his useless coolies, and the General chuckled himself -silent again. When Eveleen rose, he sent Brian to join her on the -verandah, and carried off Richard to his office, there to set to work -with compasses and spaced rulers to investigate various impressions -and drawings of seals, each with its more or less legible inscription -in beautiful but intricate Persian characters. Richard’s expression -made Brian exclaim discontentedly as soon as he had his sister to -himself-- - -“I hope to goodness Ambrose ain’t going about for ever with that glum -phiz! What’s the matter with the fellow?” - -“Sure he’ll be sorry to lose his friend Bayard, and afraid things are -going to be different,” said Eveleen wisely. - -“But why wouldn’t they be different? Can’t go on always in the same -old rut. It ain’t as if his place was going begging. The General has a -step-grandson or something that he would have liked greatly to put -into it.” - -“D’ye tell me that, now? But of course I knew he only appointed -Ambrose because he felt he would be unfairly treated otherwise, and to -please Bayard.” - -“Well, then, if Ambrose knows ’twas not for his sweet face nor his -charming manners he got it, will you tell me why he wouldn’t try to -make himself agreeable at all? Sure it reflects on me--the way he -looks and talks.” - -“Reflects on you?” said Eveleen, in amazement. - -“Well, and why wouldn’t it? Wasn’t it a compliment to me his getting -the post? You don’t think the old lad would have picked out Ambrose -out of all the unjustly treated men in Khemistan if you were not my -sister? Then don’t my fine Major owe it to me to look a bit -grateful--whether he is or not?” - -Amazement had kept Eveleen silent for the moment, but now she -descended on him crushingly. “I never heard anything like it!” she -declared indignantly. “A little weeshy bit of a boy like you to _dare_ -to criticise Major Ambrose! A compliment to you, indeed! I’d have you -know, my bold fellow, that Ambrose stands on his own feet, and needs -no help from you or anybody. Why would he look grateful to you, pray, -when he owes you nothing, nothing in the wide world? I’d advise you be -ashamed of yourself to be talking such nonsense.” - -“Oh, all serene,” growled Brian, considerably taken aback. “Don’t -think _I_ want to put you under an obligation, I beg of you. And if -you prefer Ambrose to go about with the face he has, sure I’d be the -last to wish it altered! Some people would say his manner to you would -be the better of a little change too, but----” - -“You _dare_! Brian, you _dare_!” Eveleen’s eyes flashed fire, and once -more her brother withdrew discreetly. - -“Ah, then, don’t destroy me entirely! As I say, if you like it, it’s -your business it is, not mine.” - -“And for once in your life y’are right! Take this from me, Brian -Delany: if ever you dare speak against Major Ambrose again, I declare -to you I’ll make you sorry y’ever were born! Is that clear to you?” - -“It is, it is! ’Pon my word, old Evie, I never meant to rile you like -this. ’Twas just that I felt----” - -“Take care!” warningly. - -“I will, indeed. Sure I ought remember that only a fool would go -interfering between a man and his wife. ’Twas none of my business, and -I ask your pardon.” - -“Well, be careful, then.” But Eveleen’s wrath, never very long-lived, -was melting like snow at the sight of her boy’s penitence. “Listen, -then, Brian”--in a burst of confidence,--“Ambrose is English. That’s -what gives him the manner you think I’d dislike. But I don’t, because -it’s his. I’ll tell you this now--it did take me by surprise at first, -but now I’m accustomed to it I wouldn’t know him without it. -Indeed--and this is more I wouldn’t have him different, because it -wouldn’t be _him_, d’ye see?” - -“So long as you can stand it---- I mean,” hastily, “as you like -it--it’s no business of mine. I suppose I ought be thankful you take -it this way, for what would I do if you didn’t? Call him out--eh? and -you running in between to try and reconcile us at the last moment.” - -“No, too late, and receiving the fire of both parties, and with my -last breath joining your two hands, and vowing you to eternal -friendship in memory of the hapless Eveleen! There’s tragedy for you! -But talking of tragedy, what’s happened that poor Captain Stewart of -yours? I declare he looked so crushed when he put his head in at the -door I was afraid of something terrible.” - -“Will I go and see? He takes these things to heart greatly. He had -made up his mind to have a dinner worthy of you, and now he’s touched -in his tenderest point.” - -“Yes, do go. Bring him here to have a talk, and we’ll make him laugh -till he forgets all about it.” - -But when Brian returned he shook his head. - -“No go, Evie! He’s holding his head and groaning, and vowing he’ll -resign and go back to his regiment if Freddy Lennox don’t keep the -General in better order than we can. His heart is broken entirely, I -tell you.” - -“The poor fellow! Will we go and dig him out, Brian?” - -“I believe you’d do it! ’Twould shock him horribly--do him all the -good in the world! We will. Come along--no, hist, we are observed! -Here’s my old lad and your good man.” - -“You are sure of the writing?” Sir Harry was demanding eagerly of -Richard as they came towards the others. - -“Absolutely certain, General. I’ve seen enough of it!” - -“You have specimens you can produce?” - -“Dozens, sir--the moment I can get my papers unpacked.” - -“Good. That settles _his_ hash, I think. Now, Mrs Ambrose, I’m not -going to keep your husband longer to-night. Your brother will take you -round to your quarters, and if you find anything wrong with ’em, let -me know at once, d’ye see?” - -“Indeed I will, Sir Harry, but it’s too good and kind y’are to us. -Sure we’ll be spoilt!” - -“There ain’t many people to call me good and kind--outside my own -family and the private soldiers,” chuckled Sir Harry. “But listen a -moment, ma’am.” Richard and Brian had gone down the steps to the -horses, and he held her back. “I have asked Lord Maryport for Bayard -as my Commissioner in settling the new treaty, so if all goes well he -will be coming back here almost as soon as he sets foot in Bombay. -What d’ye think of that?” - -“Ah, now, how pleased Ambrose will be! You have told him?” - -“Nay, I leave that for you to do, when you can speak to him quietly. I -can see he finds it difficult to work under any one but his ill-used -friend, and I honour him for it.” - -“Sure y’are too good to us entirely, Sir Harry!” and the General was -well pleased with voice and look. But it is probable he did not intend -the news to be reserved, as Eveleen did reserve it, until she and her -husband, having been duly inducted by Brian into the palatial quarters -reserved for them, were in bed on opposite sides of a room which -looked about half a mile across. Richard was just dropping asleep when -he heard his wife’s voice. - -“Ambrose! _Ambrose_! Are y’asleep already? Listen to me now.” - -“What is it? A snake? a lizard?” he asked drowsily. - -“Neither--nothing of that sort. Why will y’always be thinking of such -horrid things? No, the General bid me tell you he has asked to have -Bayard sent back to help him with the treaty, and he expects him here -in no time.” - -The news was so unexpected that it woke Richard effectually. “I wonder -whether he is wise,” he said, without any of the enthusiasm Eveleen -had looked for. - -“And is that all you have to say? I thought you’d be jumping out of -bed and dancing on your head for joy!” - -“Really, my dear! Have you ever known me do----” - -“No, never! never anything of the sort!” Eveleen was sitting up in -bed, and her voice floated over to him in a bitter wail. “Always and -always y’are the most disappointing creature ever I saw in my life!” - -“I am sorry. If you had let me know beforehand----” - -“And then where would be the surprise--the delightful surprise?--and -y’are not a bit delighted, or surprised either. And I saving it up -since the moment he told me----” - -“Perhaps you had better have told me at once, my dear. You are rather -like the General----” - -“Like the General!” burst forth Eveleen. “If you think it polite to -tell your poor unfortunate wife she’s like an ancient old man with a -nose as big as the Hill of Howth and a beard like a billy-goat! You -told me before I was as ugly as sin, but I thought you maybe didn’t -mean it--but now you’ve said it again----” a sob. - -“Mrs Ambrose, will you be good enough to tell me when I said anything -so preposterous?” - -“When I was ill at Bab-us-Sahel. At least, I said ’twas what you -thought about me, and you didn’t say no, so I had to think you did! -And now you say I’m like the General!” - -“If you will be quiet a moment and listen to me---- Now; do you -seriously expect me to contradict all the absurd things you say every -day? If you do, I will make a point of it, but it will add a good deal -to my work--and shorten my life by some years, I imagine. But perhaps -that----” - -“I don’t--you know I don’t! Y’oughtn’t be so cruel, Ambrose! You know -if you were ill I’d be nursing you day and night, and neither eat nor -sleep till you were well again.” - -“I am sure you would,” with a slight shudder. “Let us hope it won’t be -necessary. At any rate, there seems no present likelihood of my -inflicting such a task on you. As to my saying you were like the -General, I apologise if it was the wrong thing. You are so fond of -him, I thought it would rather please you than otherwise. Not like him -in face, of course--you know very well I meant nothing of that -kind,--but in saying or doing what you have in your mind without -thinking a moment how it will affect other people.” - -Eveleen sat silent a moment, somewhat dismayed. “Will I really be like -the General in that way?” she asked at last in a subdued voice. - -“Don’t be afraid I shall say you are. I have learnt my lesson.” - -“But I see what you mean. That trick on poor Stewart to-night--I’d -have done just the same. And----” - -“Pray don’t task your memory.” Richard smothered a colossal yawn. “I -haven’t said I mean that, you know.” - -“But I know you did. Oh dear, how will I ever make you think -differently? I don’t mean to be ill-natured, but when a thing comes to -me---- If only there was something I could do to show you--something -you wanted very much----” - -“There is something I want very much,” in a ghostly voice. - -“Ah, tell me now! tell me! Can I do it?” - -“You could, but you won’t.” - -“Ah, how can you say so? You know I’d do anything----” - -“It ain’t great or grand enough--nothing heroic or romantic about it.” - -“Just tell me--just let me hear.” - -“Merely to let us both have a night’s rest--that’s all.” - -“Oh!” in dismay. “Oh, you shocking tease!” in indignation. “But I’ll -do it; I won’t say another word.” A pause, during which Eveleen lay -down vigorously, and remained silent a moment. “Ambrose!” - -“All present and correct, sir,” sleepily. “No--I mean, Yes.” - -“What about those seals? Just tell me that.” - -“Gul Ali’s without a doubt. One of the papers in the writing--of his -Munshi--Chanda Ram--know his fist as well--as I do my own.” A snore. - -“Oh!” said Eveleen again. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - A CONTEST OF WITS. - -/Public/ opinion at Sahar was divided on the subject of Sir Henry -Lennox. To the elegant he was a disreputable old figure of fun, -certain to bring irreparable disgrace upon British arms if he was so -foolish as to provoke a conflict with the Khans. Kinder-hearted people -referred hopefully to his Peninsular record, while admitting -mournfully that the Peninsula was a very long time back. Civilians -declared him a bloodthirsty soldier, out for loot; soldiers lamented -audibly that a fellow who had not the faintest notion of military -discipline or etiquette should have been shoved into a position where -the absence of these might, and almost certainly would, do untold -harm. The sepoys regarded him with distant respect, not unmixed with -dread, since the tempests of wrath they heard clattering on the heads -of their superiors might at any moment fall on their own. The British -private developed an unaccountable taste for turning out when the -General went by--because he had never seen a General looking like a -scarecrow before, said his officers bitterly--and greeting him with -broad smiles which impaired distressingly the martial woodenness of -the regulation salute. And the General pandered to this unmilitary -behaviour, stopping to talk to individual privates in a human--not to -say friendly--fashion, and actually invading the barrack-rooms when -these were not prepared for inspection. He might say that in this way -he found out that things were not as they should be: of course he did, -the officers retorted indignantly; what did he expect? He would have -found nothing wrong if he would only come at proper times. - -But little by little an uneasy feeling was gripping the hearts of the -placid oligarchy which had ruled the Sahar Cantonments hitherto. The -old joker meant business; it was not all fuss and bluster when he -called together the officers of a regiment and addressed them in -language that lacked nothing in strength, if much in polish. -Responsibility was his text; he was mad on responsibility: -responsibility towards the men--that, at any rate, was universally -admitted in theory; towards other branches of the Service--even, if it -could be believed, towards the native regiments; and most incredible -of all, responsibility towards the “black” population. And it was not -possible to listen politely to his views and ignore them as an amiable -eccentricity, for he went so far as to promulgate them in General -Orders, and enforce them by penalty. Moreover, the orders were drawn -up so clearly that any one could understand them, and in such -improperly sarcastic language that it was plain the grinning privates -who heard and read them regarded them as an entertainment freely -provided for their delectation. The Army was certainly going to the -dogs, and that part of it which was quartered at Sahar would arrive -first, thanks to the Governor-General for sending this doddering old -lunatic to vex it. It was not Sir Harry’s age that was the chief count -against him--for in those days the nearer a man was to seventy, the -greater seemed his chances of high command--but his eccentricity. He -had somehow managed to pass through the Army mould without taking its -impression, and as a result, he spoke a language strange to Army men. - -It was some consolation to the few Politicals left at Sahar that the -General was evidently as great a puzzle to the native rulers as to his -own subordinates. All his movements were watched and reported by a -horde of spies, and his utterances, which were numerous, often -lengthy, and frequently quite inconsistent with one another, noted -down with care and pains by hearers who only understood half of what -they heard, and by them translated into Persian for transmission to -the Khans. Of more value, perhaps, was the ocular demonstration of the -condition of his troops, whom he was training hard. The “trotting -about over the hills,” which he had promised himself to give the -Khans’ messengers in company with two or three thousand men of his -force, impressed them deeply, though the impression wore off a little -when it came out that the General had remarked artlessly that this and -the many similar field-days that followed it were intended to train -himself as much as his men. - -These field-days were a continual delight to Eveleen. The Great Duke -had set the example of allowing ladies to ride with the staff on such -occasions, and take station at the saluting-point--judiciously to the -rear, of course--and Sir Harry would have regarded it as blasphemy to -seek to improve upon his master’s methods. He was careful to detail an -aide-de-camp to keep Mrs Ambrose from getting into danger or -obstructing the manœuvres, but those two conditions satisfied, she -might gallop where she liked. Sometimes, of course, she would arrive -at an awkward moment, when Sir Harry was on the point of telling a -unit candidly what he really thought of it, and then he would turn -upon her an awful glare. “Madam, be good enough to retire!” was the -formula barked at her from lips so clearly struggling to restrain a -pent-up flood of vitriolic language that even Eveleen never dared to -defy the mandate. From a safe distance she would hear the General’s -voice rising and falling in alternate denunciation and irony--the -words being happily undistinguishable--and discern through the -sand-clouds the wilting of the officers beneath the storm; and then -Sir Harry would ride after her refreshed and genial, the -gayest-mannered martinet that ever killed a regiment with his mouth. -He had a great fancy for her little horse Bajazet, but having learnt -his history, insisted on renaming him the Street Arab--the expression -was just coming into use,--since Bajazet was no name for an Arab, he -said, but mere romantic female foolishness. - -Richard did not take part in these field-days. They afforded him a -much-needed opportunity for getting on with the work of the office, -unhindered by the incursions of his chief. The Khemistan Political -Establishment might have been excessive hitherto, but there was no -denying that its sudden reduction imposed an enormous quantity of work -on the few men who remained. Sir Harry himself was tireless, and -seemed to find no difficulty in working all night after riding all -day; but his inexperience added not a little to the labours of his -subordinates. He had a rooted distaste for the elaborate forms of -courtesy without which no Persian communication would be complete, and -lest he should be set down as a barbarian absolutely destitute of -breeding, Richard and the Munshi found it necessary to prepare two -copies of every letter and order that was to be sent out in his name. -One was in the plain blunt terms he himself favoured--he was very -proud of these, and often copied the English rendering into his diary, -presumably as a model of official correspondence for future -generations,--the other embellished with the polite circumlocutions -without which the recipient would have regarded it as a calculated -insult. In like manner all the letters he received had to be most -carefully scanned before being submitted to him, for in his impatience -of the involved compliments set forth at extreme length, he would -brush aside the whole document as of no importance, and thus fail to -reach the weighty meaning concealed amid the flowery verbiage. And -when, to accent these little peculiarities, Sir Harry was in the state -of mind known to all his subordinates as “kicking up a dust”--as -happened not infrequently,--the office heaved bitter sighs of longing -for the days of Colonel Bayard, now gone by for ever. - -Eveleen rode round one evening when office hours were over to pick up -her husband, that they might take their ride by daylight. Here, with -the desert and its wild tribes so close at hand, it was not safe to -ride in the dark, so that during the sunset hour the roads in and -about the Cantonments were a scene of tumultuous activity, which -ceased, in Cinderella-fashion, the instant after gunfire. Eveleen -expected Richard to meet her, but his horse was still waiting in -charge of its syce, who said he had not seen his master, and she rode -on up to the verandah steps. Then he came out, looking worried, his -hands full of papers. - -“Sorry, my dear, but I’m afraid you must excuse me this evening. It -has been impossible to get anything done, and these letters must be -put into shape before I leave. Your brother will escort you if he can -get away, and if”--with some bitterness--“you can induce the General -to go too, pray do. I shall be thankful not to hear his voice.” - -“Ah, but can’t I help you?” she asked quickly. “It’s a headache you -have; I see that.” - -“No, my dear, thank you. Go and enjoy your ride.” - -Eveleen rode away, feeling rather desolate. Round the next corner she -just escaped running into Brian. - -“Won’t you come and play with me? I have nobody to play with!” she was -quoting from the spelling-book in common use, from which she had -taught Brian to read, but he did not respond to the familiar tag. - -“Have you not, indeed? The General sends his compliments, and may he -have the honour of attending you this evening? Take him along with -you, pray, and smooth him down a bit. We have had one earthquake after -another the whole long day.” - -“How very interesting! What about?” she asked curiously. - -“What about? _Everything_--every sole, single, individual thing that -has happened or not happened since the early morning. And don’t you -tell him things are ‘interesting,’ if you value your life. I believe -that was what helped to set him off--my telling him some order or -other had been ‘carried out’ instead of ‘executed.’ He’s been going on -about cant words, and the correct thing, and the cheese, at intervals -ever since. I tell y’ I don’t dare open my mouth!” - -“New for you, Brian! But what if he’d snap at me? Are you going to -leave me to be eaten up entirely?” - -“Oh, I’ll be there--but in my proper subordinate place behind. It’s -you will get the fireworks--riding with him.” - -They were walking their horses into the main courtyard, and as he -spoke they came in sight of a very explosive-looking Sir Harry, -standing on the steps and criticising with freedom the appearance and -equipment of the escort. It was for once fortunate that he could not -speak Persian, for the precise nature of his remarks was lost on the -troopers, though his tone and gestures, and the face of the officer -who bore the brunt of his words, made the whole drift clear enough. As -was natural when he was already ruffled, some evil genius had allotted -him the fidgety Selima that evening, and when he saw Eveleen, and -politely determined not to keep a lady waiting, hastened to mount, the -mare kept him hopping on one leg for some minutes of greater energy -than dignity. It took all the little self-control Eveleen possessed -not to offer advice or assistance, but she knew that would be a crime -beyond forgiveness, and succeeded in keeping silence and a straight -face. At last he was in the saddle, and gathering up the reins in -stillness more eloquent than speech. With what she felt was supreme -tact, Eveleen ignored it all. - -“And where will we go?” she asked, as they rode out of the gate. - -“We will go,” returned Sir Harry, with concentrated venom, “straight -to the sandhills, and let this uneasy jade have her fill of dancing -and prancing.” - -“Ah, that will be splendid!” cried Eveleen, forgetting tact, and -instantly reminded of it by the malevolent glance bent upon her. - -“Yes, we shall have a _splendid_ ride, and my _lovely_ companion and -my _interesting_ aide will congratulate themselves on _carrying out_ -their purpose of seeing the old man look a fool. That is _correct_ -behaviour nowadays, I understand.” - -So vehemently did he hiss out the fashionable catchwords which he -hated, that Eveleen was more taken aback than she had ever been in her -life. But she was not the woman to suffer meekly at Sir Harry’s hands -any more than at Richard’s. Withdrawing her gaze primly to her horse’s -ears, she remained stonily silent, taking no notice of her companion. -In this wise they rode through the part of the Cantonments which lay -between Government House and the desert, and the ladies they -met--after observing with disapproval that there was that Mrs Ambrose -riding with the General again--remarked with unction that it looked as -though Sir Henry was finding out at last what sort of temper Mrs -Ambrose possessed. As for Eveleen, she suspected irony in Richard’s -parting injunction--in which she probably did him injustice. - -Possibly the air and exercise mollified Sir Harry’s chafed spirit, or -perhaps he realised that he had been rude, for instead of calling for -a gallop as soon as they were on the sand, he drew rein and said, in a -voice half surly, half apologetic-- - -“Not very much to say for yourself to-night--eh, ma’am?” - -Eveleen turned innocent eyes upon him. “Sure I’m afraid to talk, Sir -Harry. I’m in a shocking bad temper this evening, and I’d maybe say -something I oughtn’t.” - -“Meaning that I’m in a shocking bad temper, I suppose? My apologies, -ma’am--my most humble apologies. Not that I ever do lose my -temper--you’re wrong there.” Eveleen wished she had eyes in the back -of her head, to see Brian’s face when he heard this. “I’m apt to be -betrayed into using strong language occasionally--very wrong, I know, -and I try to break myself of the habit,--but I assure you I have the -sweetest temper in the world. All we Lennoxes have; we got it from our -parents before us.” - -“But oughtn’t a person lose their temper sometimes?” enquired Eveleen -meekly. “When there’s good cause for it, I mean?” - -The General’s face cleared wonderfully. “Why, so they ought! There are -times when no man who is a man ought to keep his temper. And I am -proud to say that on occasions like that I have never failed--yes, I -think I may say I have never failed--to lose mine.” - -Eveleen fought with a wild desire to laugh. “True for you, I’m sure, -Sir Harry--most thoroughly. W-will we gallop now?” she welcomed almost -hysterically a broad stretch of smooth sand in front, for the General -had glanced round suspiciously, and she was afraid of disgracing -herself for ever. But when Bajazet broke into a canter, Selima was -naturally not disposed to be left behind, and they swept forward -grandly, with the escort clinking and clanking after. When they slowed -down a little, to mount the steep rise of a sandhill, which stretched -right and left, as far as eye could see, like the face of a breaking -wave, Eveleen glanced at Sir Harry. He was certainly more cheerful, -but not yet his benign self, and without allowing him a moment’s -breathing-space she urged another canter the instant they reached the -crest of the sand-wave, and never stopped till the ground began to -rise for the next. Then Sir Harry checked Selima and laughed. - -“There, that will do! The seven devils are gone,” he chuckled, and -Eveleen, a little breathless, laughed back at him. Her eyes were -shining blue, her hair, crisped by the desert wind, stood out like -wires under the heavy gauze veil thrown back over her straw hat. She -looked about seventeen, and Sir Harry felt older than ever in -comparison with her. He spoke abruptly. - -“And now, if you please, we’ll take things easy for a bit. What with -you young people egging the old fellow on, we seem to have got the -escort strung out over a mile or so of desert.” - -“I wonder might I suggest we go back and pick ’em up, General?” -suggested Brian, rather anxiously. “If there were any of the Khans’ -Arabits about here--or the wild tribes either--you would be something -like a prize for them--and with a lady in charge----” - -“Quite so. Though I think you and I could put up a fairly good fight -while Mrs Ambrose got away. My little friend the Street Arab has a -pretty turn of speed. But it would be an ignominious ending to a fit -of--no, ma’am, _not_ temper--a fit of righteous indignation such as I -hope will ever seize me, or any of our family, at the sight of cruelty -or injustice.” - -“And why wouldn’t it, Sir Harry?” asked Eveleen boldly. “I’m sure that -same righteous indignation has got me into trouble often enough. Would -it be the way the people here treat the women made you angry?” - -“No, ma’am. It was the way our own people treat their wounded. I rode -out this morning to meet the force coming--we mustn’t say -retreating--from Ethiopia. A part of the rearguard came into camp -while I was there, and I saw the poor fellows taken from their camels -and pitched down on the sand like dogs. I promise you the officers -concerned got a bit of my mind. Queen’s or Company’s, they are all the -same--shamefully negligent of their men. A bad set they are, a bad -set--and see if I don’t treat ’em badly in their turn!” - -“Ah, but not all bad?” entreated Eveleen, as he laughed ferociously. -“And sure they’ll improve, now you have the teaching of them, Sir -Harry.” - -“Will they, indeed? Then what d’ye say to what I found when I got -back? In spite of all my orders against reckless riding in the bazar, -a wretched half-caste clerk goes careering along, won’t pull up for -anybody, knocks down one of our own sepoys, a fine young fellow as -ever I saw--regularly rides over him. Poor chap goes to hospital, and -his murderer gets my sentiments--and something more.” - -“The poor sepoy was really killed?” in horror. - -“Not quite, but no thanks to the _cranny_. [_Krani_=writer.] And he -shall pay for it--needn’t think he’s going to get off. But this ain’t -ladies’ conversation, is it?” pulling himself up suddenly. “Fact is, -ma’am, this cantonment has to be got into order, and it don’t like it. -It ain’t altogether the officers’ fault--there are some magnificent -youngsters among ’em--but they have had no one to command ’em, simply -a lot of _suggestors_ suggesting that they should do this or that, and -it’s gone far to ruin ’em. There they go muddling themselves with beer -all day long, but when the private soldiers get drunk on country -spirits, it’s ‘Nasty drunken wretches! why can’t they keep sober?’ As -if there was a chance of their keeping sober in barrack-rooms not fit -for swine! How is a soldier to have confidence in his officer in war -if he has shown no concern for his welfare in peace? It’s the same all -round. There are the black artillery drivers with eight rupees a month -of pay, no lodging-money, and no warm clothing. Of course in Ethiopia -they deserted wholesale, and took their horses with ’em. But while I -command here we ain’t going to risk having our batteries crippled at -the critical moment just to save the Directors the price of a suit of -clothes. That matter’s set right, at any rate.” - -“Sure you talk as though you expected war, Sir Harry.” - -“Then I don’t, ma’am, but I mean to be prepared for it.” - -“I wonder don’t you rather look forward to it really?” - -“Look forward to it? Well, a man who has never commanded a brigade in -action may be excused for feeling some desire to know how he would -acquit himself at the head of an army. Not that I confess to much -doubt on the matter. One who has served under Wellington--you might -almost say under Napoleon, so closely have I studied him, though we -were on opposite sides, worse luck!--has little to do but put in -practice his master’s lessons. Yet I admit there’s an attraction in -the thought of handling in earnest a magnificent force such as I have -here, massing it against the foe, flinging it hither and thither, -leading it to victory---- Ah, but then! Heaven forgive me! do I desire -to appear before my Maker--as must happen before long--with my hands -imbrued in the blood of my kind, of those very troops whose proud -bearing and lofty confidence fills me with elation? No, a thousand -times no!” - -He spoke aloud, but as though to himself, with eyes fixed on the -distant horizon, and Eveleen was awed. “But there won’t likely be war -at all?” she asked, almost timidly. - -“How can I say? Is there any knowing what might suffice to stir to a -murderous resolution these poor foolish princes, who are drunk with -_bhang_ every day after three o’clock, and peevish all the morning -till they can get drunk again? They are at the mercy of a moment’s -impulse, if the heads of their army had the strength of mind to take a -decisive step when ordered, without waiting for the inevitable -reversal.” - -“The younger Khans might do so, Ambrose thinks,” she -suggested--“especially Kamal-ud-din.” - -“True, but would he find a sufficient following when old Gul Ali says -in open audience that if the British will only take money to go away -he’ll sell all his wives’ jewels to satisfy ’em? Then the next thing -one hears he and the rest have sent their women away into the desert, -and swear they will cut all their throats to prove to us they are in a -desperate determination to resist. Well, do it, my good princes, do -it! and I swear by all that’s holy I’ll cut yours, to the last man of -you! When it comes to throat-cutting, you’ll find me a good deal apter -than in chopping words with your Vakils.” - -“Ambrose believes they intend fighting,” said Eveleen. - -“I know he does, but the other Politicals assure me with one voice -that all this assemblage of troops is under taken solely with the -design to intimidate me--which design, by the way, is uncommonly -mistaken! Poor Bayard himself could hardly depart for assuring me that -his dear Khans hadn’t an ounce of vice in ’em--that it was their -nature to bluster and talk big, but if I took ’em at their word I -should be guilty of murder at the very least. So be it, says I to him, -if murder starts it won’t be because I begin it. If the princes will -keep the peace, peace they shall have; but if they fire a shot, -Khemistan shall be annexed to the British Empire, and good for -Khemistan it will be.” - -“Bayard don’t think that,” said Eveleen slowly. “’Twould break his -heart, I believe.” - -“Then he must get his friends to keep their treaties--and mind you, -the new one I am to make is a long way stiffer than the last. The -Khans are to pay in territory for all their dirty tricks--give back to -the Nawab of Habshiabad the districts they stole from him, and cede -Sahar and Bab-us-Sahel to us permanently.” - -“They won’t like that either, will they?” - -“That they won’t, and very naturally. In their place I should object -strongly myself. In fact, I object now, for what right have we here, -taking possession of towns that don’t belong to us? But the Khans -entered into the treaties, and they must keep ’em--or if they want to -break ’em, they must fight fair. Those letters now, with the doubtful -seals--you have heard of them?” - -“I heard you speaking to Ambrose about them, but I don’t know what -they would be. He don’t tell me things.” - -“Wise man! Well, ma’am, they were merely written at the time of our -Ethiopian disasters to incite Maharajah Ajit Singh of Ranjitgarh to -form a league against us, and to the chiefs of the wild tribes to get -’em to fall upon our retreating troops. They were sealed with a seal -closely resembling Gul Ali’s, but with some slight differences that -made me think a forgery had possibly been attempted. But then Munshi -puts me up to a nice little trick these fellows have of keeping two -seals--one just sufficiently different from the other to justify -doubts if there’s any wish to disavow a document,--and your good -husband not only identifies the seal as genuine, but swears to the -handwriting of the letters as being that of Gul Ali’s chief scribe. So -he at least--and his brother Khans are all tarred with the same -brush--stands convicted of a diabolical attempt to take advantage of -our calamities. He’ll deny it, of course, as he will the latest -evidence of his perfidy--a bond written in his own copy of the Koran, -and sealed by all the Khans but Shahbaz, pledging ’em to unite in -driving us from the country,--but I’ll bring him to book. What can you -do with a man whose word can’t be trusted and who’ll forge his own -seal? Nothing but bind him down so tight as to put it out of his power -to do mischief, says I. My friend Gul Ali is taking a little trip in -this direction, I hear, and when he and I meet to exchange -compliments, there will be something more than compliments in store -for him. I’ll wager he’ll be uncommonly taken aback when he finds I am -acquainted with the engagement he carries in his Koran.” - -“But if he denies it? Why, he might even produce another Koran to show -you there was nothing in it at all.” - -“To be sure he might--and most certainly will. And therefore my only -course is to make it impossible for the suggested combination to take -place. Believe me, ma’am, I have a rod in pickle for old Gul Ali. My -sole fear is that he mayn’t care to face me.” - -“But sure that would be to admit his guilt?” - -“True, but a tacit admission of guilt don’t do you much good when the -guilty person remains so discreetly at a distance that you can’t lay -hands on him.” - -“The sun is getting precious low, General,” ventured the watchful -Brian, riding up level with Sir Harry. - -“That’s true, and we seem to have collected the escort without the -loss of a man. Ma’am, I owe you an apology for trespassing on your -patience with these public affairs, thinking less of your -entertainment than of relieving my own mind. My comfort is that you’ll -forget ’em speedily.” - -“True, Sir Harry. I’ll not remember anything but that you complimented -me by talking about them.” - -“Delany,” said Sir Harry solemnly to Brian, “were there any fragments -of the Blarney Stone left behind when your sister quitted Ireland, or -was the whole of it concealed in her baggage?” - -“Blarney Stone, indeed!” said Brian enthusiastically, when he looked -in on the Ambroses late that evening. “’Tis a harp y’ought be having, -Evie--like David with Saul,--and I’ll not say but the staff will be -getting up a subscription to present you with one. Think of the -convenience of being able to call you in to lay the dust as soon as -the old lad begins to kick it up!” - -“Is it a harp, indeed! Much good that would be!” said Eveleen -scornfully. “Why, I’d never be able to resist trying it on Ambrose, -whom nothing on earth will move, and the General would soon find out -what a useless sort of thing it was.” She stopped suddenly, catching -on her husband’s face the uneasy look which showed that he could not -decide whether she was in earnest or not, and a disagreeable thought -struck her. Richard had said she was like the General. She had felt -embarrassed this evening when the General put into words his deepest -thoughts. Could it be that Richard also was embarrassed when she spoke -out her thoughts without considering whether they were likely to be -acceptable or not? She brushed the question aside quickly. “But I -assure you Sir Harry considers it right and proper to lose his temper -when the occasion calls for it,” she said. - -“I believe you!” agreed Brian dolefully. “Ain’t it a pity, though, -that we can’t pull a string and make him lose it when _we_ think the -occasion calls for it? With the Khans, now! If they once saw him in -one of his rages, sure they’d be tumbling over one another to try and -appease him.” - -“Ah, then, old Gul Ali will never dare to stand out against him when -he has once heard him talk seriously,” said Eveleen. “You don’t really -think they’ll fight, Ambrose?” - -“They would not fight if they knew him as we know him,” said Richard -slowly. “But with these fellows, his violence and severity defeats its -own object. They are incapable of believing any one could take such a -tone seriously with persons of their importance. He must be -endeavouring to hide his weakness, they imagine.” - -“Well, now!” said Brian. “And what can you do with people like that at -all?” - -“Pray don’t ask me. If they can’t see the difference between him and -Bayard, how is it to be got into their heads? Bayard might employ -threats, but I can’t believe the utmost exigency would have driven him -actually to demand the annexation of the country. But this chap will -do it if they don’t behave themselves.” - -“Well, our own people are learning to know him,” laughed Brian. -“Munshi was telling me to-day that they say he ain’t merely a -commander, but the Governor-General himself in a military disguise. -Some of ’em say he’s the Duke come back, but the old sepoys, who knew -the Duke forty years ago, won’t have that. But they all agreed he -might be an uncle or cousin of Her Majesty’s, sent out to cope with -the posture of things here.” - -“Aye, they are beginning to call him the Padishah,” said Richard. -“Well, if the tales get to Gul Ali’s ears, so much the better, if they -make him disposed to submit. But he can’t sign a treaty by himself, -unfortunately, and by the time the rest are assembled, he will have -been in as many different minds as there are Khans.” - -“I’d dearly like to see Sir Harry talk to him for his good,” said -Eveleen eagerly. “Where is it they’ll meet? Will we--ladies, I -mean--be allowed to be there?” - -“Certainly not,” said Richard crushingly. “It will be across the -river--in that garden with the palm-trees just on the other side.” - -“Sure you needn’t be so horrid about it! I dare say there won’t be -much to see after all--maybe nothing.” - -As it happened, that was exactly what there was. Sir Harry and his -staff, all in full uniform, set out by boat, reached the meeting-place -in good time, and waited there--in vain, returning after an hour or so -in high dudgeon. Nor was their wrath mollified by a message from Gul -Ali, conveying a perfunctory apology for his non-appearance, and -appointing a meeting the next day in another garden, six miles down -the river. This time it was Sir Harry who did not keep the -appointment, returning the curt answer that he was not going to be -insulted. Colonel Bayard’s partisans went about with long faces all -day. Were the Khans to be defied on their own soil by this ignorant -stranger? But by the evening, when reports began to filter in, they -saw reason to change their tune. The messengers had found Gul Ali’s -son Karimdâd waiting half-way, nominally to receive the General with -honour, but actually--every one was sure of it--to note what troops he -brought with him, and send word to his father, who had six thousand -Arabits concealed in and about the garden, and reinforcements within -call. Sir Harry was too much gratified by this proof of his foresight -to exult unduly. - -“I should have looked foolish--going into the middle of a body of -Arabits with only a few officers at my back,” he said. “Whether there -were six thousand or six hundred, they could have done for us pretty -thoroughly. Nice old chap, Gul Ali!” - -“The messengers say he had heard a rumour that you intended seizing -him, General,” said Richard. - -“That’s the Ethiopian affair rising up again to plague us! But I am -not going to have it perpetually thrown in my teeth. Write to the -fellow, Ambrose, that I am no traitor, as he evidently is, and that if -I wanted to seize him, I could and would come and pull him out of -Qadirabad itself. Send it at once.” - -The effect of the message was instantaneous. Apparently Gul Ali felt -the garden where he was encamped less secure even than Qadirabad. He, -his son and his army, evacuated their camp during the night, and the -next day were out of reach in the desert. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - DEEDS, NOT WORDS. - -/It/ seemed that Gul Ali’s ignominious flight had served to stimulate -in his brother Shahbaz Khan the amiable instinct to profit by his -disgrace, for very shortly afterwards he also arrived on the bank of -the river, and sent to request the honour of beholding the General’s -face. Sir Harry appointed as meeting-place the garden where Gul Ali -had failed to present himself, and crossed the river attended only by -two aides-de-camp and Richard Ambrose as interpreter. To the -remonstrances of those who urged that Shahbaz was as likely as his -brother to attempt treachery, he replied calmly that he liked -Shahbaz--he was a sportsman, by far the best of the Khans--and -declined precautions. Yet he left Brian behind, lest Mrs Ambrose -should be robbed of husband and brother in one day; and Brian, panting -to show his mettle, spent the time in trying to make Eveleen nervous -by devising plans for a rescue. Nervous Eveleen declined to be--it was -not in her where any daylight danger was concerned; but she was quite -as ready to be excited as Brian himself, and firmly determined to make -part of any expedition that might set out. But the day passed quietly. -No boat struggled across with a piteous demand for succour, and -nothing in the nature of commotion on the opposite bank rewarded the -watchers who had posted themselves with glasses on the highest towers -of the old fort, resolved to be the first to report calamity, even if -they could not avert it. Precisely at the appointed time, the -General’s boat was seen returning, and a sigh of relief went -up--possibly tinged slightly with regret on the part of the prophets -of evil. - -“Shahbaz Khan is a precious fine fellow!” declared Sir Harry in high -good humour, to those who had ridden to the landing-stage to meet -him--Eveleen and Brian among them; “and he shall have the Turban, or -Hal Lennox will know the reason why.” - -“Did he give you a good reception, Sir Harry?” asked Eveleen, rather -unnecessarily, as it occurred to her the moment after. - -“Tiptop. Troops drawn up to receive us--everything most correct. -Double pavilion pitched--into the inner room of which Shahbaz and I -retire after the formal compliments, with Ambrose to interpret. -Shahbaz declared honour of receiving me as his guest is quite enough, -but if I have no objection he _would_ be glad to know where he stands. -He has cut himself off from the other Khans by declaring himself our -friend, and they are encouraging Gul Ali to oust him from the -succession. Would he have to suffer for his loyalty to us? Of course -there was only one answer to that. ‘I care nothing for this Turban -nonsense, but you are the rightful heir, and so long as you remain -loyal, the Governor-General will protect you in your rights.’ He was -uncommonly pleased at that, and said to Ambrose that he could have -vindicated his rights by himself, but our backing would make his task -much easier. A fine chap, a fine chap! worth ten of that old sot Gul -Ali. It’s a pleasure to find a fellow of his kind to support.” - -“Then will you be dethroning Gul Ali?” - -“Not as long as he behaves himself. But there’s talk again of his -resigning in favour of his son, who has no right to succeed until -Shahbaz has had his turn.” - -“Then you won’t alter that queer plan of theirs?” - -“How can I? It’s nothing but folly, of course, but as long as the -present state of things lasts it must go on. If I had let Shahbaz -broach the question, I don’t doubt he’d have tried to get me to -promise his son should succeed him, but that don’t come into my -province. If this nonsense of Brotherhood rule is done away with, and -Shahbaz becomes sole Khan, it may be settled his way, but that’s for -Lord Maryport to decide--not me.” - -“I wonder how can they go on with such a silly way of governing--all -reigning at once,” said Eveleen. - -“Why not, ma’am? Precious convenient way for them--you can never pin -’em down to anything. Ask your good husband what all the letters are -about which are turning his hair as grey as mine. Oh, I forgot! he -don’t tell you things--eh? Well, then, when I write to demand why the -Khans have stopped the boats going down the river and demanded toll, -contrary to treaty, the first thing is to deny it absolutely. With -shocking bad manners I contradict ’em flatly--it has been done, and -why? In a great hurry half the Khans reply that they had no hand in -it; it was the doing of some of the other Khans’ servants. Then why -have not the servants been punished? I demand. ‘Oh, they were not -their servants, but the other chaps’.’ ‘Very well, then, if you don’t -punish ’em, I shall,’ says I. ‘Oh,’ say the Khans, ‘the poor fellows -were ignorant; we have admonished ’em, and bid ’em not do it again.’ -It happens again the next week. ‘Precious lot of good your admonitions -are!’ says I. ‘Be so good as to send the poor ignorant chaps to me, -and _I_’ll admonish ’em.’ ‘Alas!’ says they, ‘the servants, being -unaware of the honour destined for ’em, have fled.’ ‘Oh, very well,’ -says I; ‘princes who give their seals and their authority to their -servants to use must expect to be held responsible for their misdeeds. -The fines due will be deducted from the sum which was to have been -paid to their Highnesses as rent for our cantonments.’ Silence for a -bit, while they think hard to find some way of getting round me. -Bright idea! they’ll put an utter stop to the steamer traffic by -forbidding woodcutting on either bank of the river on pain of -death--making out that every patch of brushwood is part of their -private preserves. ‘Sorry!’ says I, ‘but the traffic must be -maintained somehow. If the wood ain’t to be taken from the -_shikargahs_, why, I must destroy Qadirabad bit by bit, and burn the -wood from the houses.’ Then they lament together in durbar over the -wicked stiff-neckedness of that old rapscallion the Bahadar Jang, and -talk big about the steps they are on the point of taking to teach him -a lesson. ‘We will handle the English so vilely,’ say they, ‘that -they’ll call out in despair, “Great Heaven, what have we done that -Thou shouldst let loose such devils upon us?”’ Which is a very proper -sentiment for patriotic princes defending their country against the -invader, but things of that sort should be done first, and talked -about afterwards.” - -“D’ye tell me then they won’t be meaning it at all, Sir Harry?” - -“Mean it? They mean to slip out of all their engagements, and all -punishment for breaking ’em, by dint of shifting the blame on one -another and on their servants, and if they could frighten me off, it -would suit them nicely. But that they ain’t going to do. When the new -treaty is presented to ’em, they’ll sign it or they’ll refuse it, and -we shall know where we are, and if they sign it and break it, then -also I shall know what to do--and I’ll do it!” - -“You’ll just be waiting now for Bayard to come back, and then the -treaty will be presented?” suggested Eveleen. Sir Harry turned a -ferocious glance upon her. - -“Waiting for Colonel Bayard? Certainly not. I don’t need Colonel -Bayard to help me make treaties, ma’am--much obliged to you for -thinking of it!” with deadly irony. “All he’s wanted for is to help -with the arrangements about lands and so on, which will have to be -made under the treaty--and which he ought to know something about, -after his years here. The treaty will go to Qadirabad by Stewart as -soon as it’s finished translating into Persian, and the moment he’s -well away I begin to move my troops across the river--where they’ll be -equally ready to occupy the stolen Habshiabad districts and hand ’em -back to the Nawab, or to move on Qadirabad if the Khans turn nasty. -Wait for Bayard, indeed!” - -He went on growling to himself for some time, until Eveleen turned the -conversation tactfully to horses. It was inadvisable to mention -Colonel Bayard’s name to him again, but to her husband she said when -they were alone-- - -“D’ye think Bayard will understand, Ambrose, that he comes back merely -as assistant to the General?” - -“I’m afraid not.” Richard spoke gravely. “I doubt if he would return -to find himself nothing but an underling.” - -“You think they’ll not work well together?” - -“I think the best chance of it would be for the treaty to be -signed--if signed it is to be--before Bayard gets back. Then he’ll -find plenty to do in alleviating the feelings of the Khans, knowing -that the thing is done and can’t be undone, and their best hope is to -submit gracefully. Something must have happened to detain him in -Bombay, or we should have had him back before this. Whatever it be, I -trust it may detain him a little longer.” - -It was not often that Richard spoke so openly and so seriously, and -Eveleen was duly impressed. For the moment, that is--for the life -going on around her was so interesting and engrossing that it was hard -to realise Colonel Bayard as a possible disturbing influence. Sir -Harry might expect to carry through the treaty peacefully, but his -troops were longing for the Khans to refuse to sign. A new spirit had -been breathed into the disintegrated force when the Peninsular veteran -took it in hand. The bonds of discipline were tightened, something -like _esprit de corps_ was growing up between Queen’s and Company’s -men, which were traditionally at daggers drawn, and the native -regiments--in looking down upon which they had been wont to find their -sole point of agreement; life might be harder, but it was incomparably -more thrilling. The two or three thousand men at Sahar would have -charged cheering upon the great hosts of Granthistan next door, and -gone through them with the bayonet, so said Sir Harry, who -realised--no one better--the change he had brought about in the spirit -of his command. He said it to Eveleen and her husband, when they came -upon him by the river, watching the tents and heavy baggage of a -native regiment, which was due to cross on the morrow, being ferried -over in haste before darkness fell to the camp which was in process of -formation outside Bori. - -“Almost a pity to see ’em so full of fight, with no enemy handy!” he -added, a little gloomily. “But what a bloodthirsty wretch I am--almost -as bad as the Bombay chaps make me out--to be regretting the strife I -have strained every nerve to avert! If the poor fellows themselves -know no better than to desire war, their commander at least should be -superior to such a passion.” He was talking as though to himself, and -Richard broke in rather hastily-- - -“Do I understand you, General, that the Khans have decided to submit? -Is there news from Stewart?” - -“Yes, a _cossid_ [messenger] came in after you left. The Khans are -sending Vakils to sign the treaty--under protest, naturally enough, -but still to sign.” - -“Then the rumours were nothing at all but talk?” said Eveleen. - -“Nothing whatever. If there had been even some attempt at resistance I -should have felt--foolishly enough--less unjust, but these poor Khans -are so meek, so submissive, that one has the impression of behaving in -the most shockingly arbitrary fashion. Had there been any truth in -last week’s story of Gul Ali’s actual resignation of the Turban to -that violent youth, his son, I could almost have welcomed the chance -of an honest tussle, but it’s like raining blows on a feather bed. You -don’t feel this?” he turned sharply on Richard. “You still believe -they mean to fight?” - -“I can’t believe they have assembled sixty thousand men for nothing, -General--nor yet that the younger Khans have invited those armed bands -we hear about into the desert solely to enjoy a picnic in their -company.” - -“Very true. We shall soon see. Those bands must disperse--or be -dispersed--before the treaty is signed. We have ample force to meet -any resistance they can offer. But sixty thousand! No, my dear -Ambrose, I can’t credit such a figure as that. I know you have -gathered it precious carefully from the reports of our spies--but -after all, what trust can you put in the word of a spy? Oh, I know I -make use of ’em, but I discount their reports pretty shrewdly. So -don’t be frightened, ma’am”--with a benevolent smile at Eveleen--“by -your good man’s dark forebodings. I’ll tell you this, Lord Maryport -offered me additional troops either from the Upper Provinces or -Bombay, or both, and I refused ’em. So you see what I think about -it--eh?” - -“Frightened!” said Eveleen, in high scorn. “And pray why would I be -frightened, Sir Harry?” - -“Why, indeed? But don’t think I blame your prudence, Ambrose,” noting -the younger man’s silence. “From my soul I believe I have men enough -to cope with any force the Khans can bring against us. To have asked -for more would have meant delay--two months, three months, four, -perhaps,--and there we are landed in the middle of the hot weather. -You yourself have told me what that means for military operations -here--not a soldier, European or native, able to show his nose on the -parade-ground by daylight, men struck down by the dozen in a march of -a few miles. No, if we have to fight, we’ll fight at once--the sooner -the better, so long as Stewart has got back. I’m sure they have given -me pretexts enough, if there’s any humbug about signing the treaty, -and they know what I think about ’em--eh?” - -“They must be uncommonly stupid if they don’t, General.” - -“But that’s what they are--sodden with drink and drugs. If my letters -don’t wake ’em up a bit---- See here, ma’am, if this don’t strike you -as rayther neat. Twice in this last day or so poor Ambrose has had to -write to Gul Ali for me. The young bloods have been talking big about -burning our camp over at Bori there, and I knew their besotted elders -might well be induced to give such an order over-night, and in the -morning forget all about the matter and deny giving it. So I told Gul -Ali that if I heard any more of night attacks on my camp he and the -rest would be made to look precious silly, for not only would every -one that tried it get killed, but I should march on Qadirabad and -destroy it, leaving only the Fort standing, to show my respect for -their Highnesses, for all they couldn’t keep their people in order. So -they know what to look forward to now.” - -“But sure they’ll not see the joke,” said Eveleen sorrowfully. “They -will be too stupid, the creatures!” - -“Well, this will touch ’em, I imagine. Gul Ali has had his emissaries -in Bori since the first detachment crossed there, bribing our men to -try and get ’em to desert. They have not been able to do it so far, -but it don’t answer to let that sort of thing go on. So I gave the old -fellow a friendly tip. He was paying his men to corrupt mine, -believing he was getting good value for his money, says I. Well, he -was being choused right and left. When any money did pass from his -chaps to mine, they brought it straight to me, but he might take my -word for it that most of it went in high living and never came near -the troops at all. That ought to make a little unpleasantness between -the old villain and his precious tools--eh?” - -“He ought be feeling terribly small,” agreed Eveleen. “But he will not -be any fonder of you for that, Sir Harry.” - -“That, ma’am, is a consideration which I can safely assert never held -back any Lennox that ever lived from saying a neat thing when he had -it to say,” returned the General, with perfect truth. - -The next day the station enjoyed a mild excitement, for Stewart came -in by land, attended only by his orderly and personal servants, -whereas he had gone down to Qadirabad by steamer, with an escort of -thirty of the Khemistan Horse. At first people thought there had been -another Ethiopian disaster, resulting in another sole survivor, but it -soon became known that the escort were returning safe and sound by -water, while Stewart had taken the quicker land route that the General -might be aware as soon as possible of the true state of affairs. Yet -the situation was not made much clearer by his report. It was true -that the Khans had not rejected the treaty, though the Vakils they -were sending to Sahar were empowered rather to complain of their -wrongs than to sign on their behalf. But Stewart had had great -difficulty in getting away, after being insulted in the streets and -coldly received in durbar, and on his return journey he had only -avoided having to fight his way by exercising extreme self-restraint -masked by ferocious bluff. He found an enemy in every Arabit he met, -and his life was in danger more than once, but the Khemis crowded to -him in secret to express their longing that the British would take -over the country, though in the presence of their masters they -appeared indifferent or hostile. To him it seemed impossible to doubt -that the Khans meant to fight, and that the Vakils, if they ever -arrived, were intended merely to stretch out matters and gain time for -their employers; but Sir Harry was not to be hurried. He would go on -massing his troops at Bori, but nothing should induce him to take the -first hostile step. His moderation seemed to be justified when, two -days after Stewart, the Vakils arrived, though there was little -satisfaction to be obtained from them. Possibly the Khans had come to -an end of their excuses, for their sole answer to Sir Harry’s charges -was to deny them all--adding that guiltless and oppressed as they -were, they had no resource but to sign the treaty forced upon them. -Perhaps they knew that this was their best way of dealing with the -General, who was thrown into a perfect frenzy by finding himself -accused of injustice, and laboured for hours to convince the -messengers--and through them their masters--that they were being dealt -with leniently rather than oppressively. He might even have consented -to refer the treaty back to Lord Maryport, with the modifications the -Vakils proceeded humbly to suggest, had the Khans possessed sufficient -common-sense to maintain their pose of injured innocents. But -stimulated perhaps by his apparent gullibility, they struck out a new -line of annoyance, holding up the _dâks_ and robbing the mails, with -the result that every trace of meekness and compassion vanished, and -Sir Harry sent off a sledge-hammer letter to Gul Ali, ordering him -instantly to disband his troops, with the alternative of immediate -war. It might have been supposed that this time the Khans were -confronted with a straight issue that could not be evaded, but that -they were not yet destitute of wiles was clear one morning when -Richard was summoned before daylight to attend his chief. Brian, -coming to the edge of the office verandah to bid him hurry, added a -whispered word of warning. - -“Look out! the old boy is dancing mad!” - -If Sir Harry was not exactly dancing, he was doing something very like -it--rushing about the office in a series of short dashes, as he was -brought up by the walls or the furniture. He could not speak -coherently. - -“Sit down--write!” he jerked out. “That old fool--that old -villain----!” a string of expletives in various Southern European -tongues followed. “Thinks he’s diddled me, does he? _I_’ll diddle -him!” - -So far there seemed nothing to write, and Richard made a show of -elaborate preparation, selecting a large sheet of paper, choosing a -quill with care, and trying it on his thumb-nail. Then he looked up -with respectful attention. - -“Well, why don’t you write? Begin. ‘Khan!’ None of your flummery of -polite phrases--I won’t have it. Let the fellow get it hot and -strong.” - -“‘Khan!’” repeated Richard obediently, secure in the knowledge that an -English letter, however violent in expression, could do no harm. - -“Well, go on! You know what I want said--pitch it him hot, I tell you. -Can’t be too strong.” - -“Perhaps if I knew which of the Khans it was, General, and what he has -done----?” - -“Done? Which of ’em? Why, old Gul Ali, of course. Is there ever -anything wholly preposterous that the old idiot hasn’t got a hand in? -As to what he’s done--why, he’s trying to embarrass me, sir! made up -his mind to tie my hands! Says he’s helpless in the power of his -family, who are keeping him prisoner, but he’ll escape and come to me -and be my suppliant--lay his turban at my feet! Escape? yes--escape -the punishment due to him, so he thinks--get me on his side, come out -top dog after all! But I won’t have it. He shan’t come here and -slobber over my boots! If I have to fight, I’ll fight with my hands -free. Tell him I won’t receive him here--won’t see his dirty old face. -He’s to go to his brother Shahbaz, if he goes anywhere, and stay with -him till I send him orders to the contrary.” - -“As you please, General.” Richard was writing busily. - -Sir Harry came to a threatening stop just behind him. “Well, sir, -what’s wrong? What d’ye mean, sir?” - -“In this country it ain’t considered particularly healthy for an aged -relative to entrust his safety to his next heir, General.” - -“Oh, that’s it, is it?” Sir Harry laughed loudly. “If he chooses to -resign the Turban to Shahbaz, so much the better. If Shahbaz thinks -fit to exercise a little persuasion, I’m sure I have no objection. I -have done with the canting old dog. Now let his brother deal with him, -as I have no doubt he knows how. Then I’ll make short work of the -rebellious young cubs.” - -The letter written by Richard, if less peremptory in its terms than -Sir Harry would have wished, produced the desired effect. Gul Ali made -no further attempt to take refuge with the British, but turned aside -meekly to the camp of his brother, while the unfilial Karimdâd, from -whose violence he asserted that he had fled, took possession of his -fortresses, and announced loudly that he would hold them against the -man who called himself the Bahadar Jang or any other Farangi in -creation. Sir Harry chuckled, and completed his consolidation at Bori, -but it was not his measures that alarmed Karimdâd. From Shahbaz -Khan’s fortress of Bidi came the news Richard had expected. Gul Ali -had resigned the Turban--of his own free will, it was carefully -added--in favour of his brother. The result was electrical. Karimdâd -and his cousins lost no time in quitting the strongholds they had -seized, and fled to Sultankot, far in the desert--a fortress which was -declared and believed by all Khemistan to be not only impregnable but -unreachable for an enemy, owing to the difficulties of the route and -the lack of water. Sir Harry chuckled again, and with a calmness that -staggered his own troops as much as his opponents, announced that he -was going to take Sultankot. It might be a hundred miles in the -desert, but if the Arabit bands could make the journey, so could -trained troops. The fortress might be impregnable to a native army, -but not to Europeans provided with artillery. Parts of the way might -be impassable for heavy guns, but he would rely on his field-pieces. -The wells might be destroyed or poisoned, vegetation might be lacking, -but he would carry water and forage with him. The route might be -unknown, but he would get guides from Shahbaz Khan, and in case the -opportunity might be too tempting, Shahbaz Khan himself should come -too. No smoothing-out of complications at one blow by allowing the -British force to be overwhelmed in the desert, leaving him undisputed -master of Khemistan! Shahbaz Khan professed unbounded delight in the -honour conferred upon him, but begged the General politely not to -impose upon himself the labour of such a march. He himself would -undertake to reduce Sultankot with his own troops, and bring the -rebellious princelings to heel. But Sir Harry refused to be spared, -and gave his reason openly, though happily not to his prospective -ally. It was just as well that Shahbaz Khan should be convinced of the -ability of British troops to reach and capture any objective -whatever--no matter how distant and difficult,--as a gentle hint that -when he was placed in power he also would find no place of refuge if -he chose to misbehave. The British force, fretting at the leash which -held it inactive after its hard training, was ready to go anywhere and -fight anything, and moved out joyfully from Bori into the desert, to -the number--after the manner of Anglo-Indian armies--of three thousand -fighting men and twenty thousand camp-followers. - -Eveleen being what she was, it was natural--though Richard did not -think so--that the prospect of actual fighting should excite her -nearly as much as it did the soldiers. Returning one evening from a -visit to the camp at Bori under Brian’s escort, she burst into her -husband’s dressing-room, where he was trying hard to decide which of -his indispensable campaigning requisites were absolutely -indispensable, and which only relatively so. - -“It’s a great sight!” she cried, without troubling to specify what the -sight was--“but terrible, too. I wonder does Sir Harry feel himself a -murderer when he thinks how few of those splendid horses and men may -come back?” - -Richard’s lips twitched. Eveleen made it a grievance against him that -he had no sense of humour, but it sometimes seemed to him--as to other -married people with Irish partners--that the accusation might as fitly -apply to the accuser. “You are uncommonly cheering in your view of our -prospects, my dear,” he said. - -“But what d’ye think yourself? Is there a chance of success? Truly, -now?” - -“Under any other commander, not the faintest chance. Under Sir -Henry--well, he has such a turn for performing the impossible when -he’s said he will, that there may be a hope. But mind you, the -enterprise will either be the most horrible disaster in history, or -the maddest success.” - -“And which would you say ’twill be?” - -He spoke as though reluctantly. “Well, having had some opportunity of -observing the General, I pin my faith to his madness, which has more -method than the sound mind of most men. I believe he will succeed--not -without loss, of course; precious heavy loss, perhaps.” - -But Eveleen paid no heed to the qualification. Quite unexpectedly, for -he was standing looking meditatively at the floor, with his arms full -of clothes--his servant having discreetly faded away,--Richard found -her head on his shoulder, and heard her coaxing voice in his ear-- - -“Ah, then, Ambrose, let me come too!” - -“Let _you_ come? Nonsense! certainly not.” - -“Ah, now, do!” - -“I tell you I won’t hear of it. Am I dreaming, or are you? or is the -General’s madness infectious?” - -“Why would you be so unkind? Just think how nice, when you come tired -to your tent after a march, to find your wife waiting to welcome you, -and your slippers warming--no, I suppose it ought be cooling--eh?” - -“In my bath, I suppose--if there was one, or any slippers either. My -dear, don’t be silly. Do you know that we take no baggage with us -after the first day or two? You have no conception of the misery--the -squalor--of an ordinary desert campaign, and this will be far worse.” - -“What horrid words you use!” complained Eveleen softly, stroking his -shoulder-strap. “Didn’t you hear Sir Harry himself telling how Lady -Cinnamond was with Sir Arthur at Salamanca, and even rode in the -charge?” - -“That was Sir Arthur’s business, not mine. If I had been the Duke, I -would have cashiered him for allowing it. But perhaps the unfortunate -wretch was sufficiently punished by the anxiety he must have been -in--to say nothing of looking such a fool. And in any case, war in -Europe ain’t like war here. That’s a gentlemanly affair to this. You -stay at home and mind your house.” - -“But I’ll only waste your money and bring you to debt and disgrace. -You’ve said so, often. Will you tell me now, am I the sort of wife to -sit on the verandah darning your stockings and dropping salt tears on -them because you’re away, thinking back over the future and looking -forward to the past?--no, I mean it’s t’other way about. But anyhow, -the sort of wife I am is the one that rides knee to knee with you in -the ranks, and takes her turn in keeping watch at night----” - -“And can never keep awake if she tries! Won’t do, my dear. You must -remember you ain’t an Amazon, nor yet Joan of Arc, but the wife of a -British officer in the nineteenth century--a much more prosaic person. -The verandah is your lot, I fear, but we won’t insist on the darning. -I trust I ain’t unreasonable.” - -“Unreasonable? The man that insisted on wearing stockings of my -darning would be stark staring mad!” cried Eveleen, with terrific -emphasis. “And will you tell me, Major Ambrose, if you wanted that -sort of wife, why you married me?” - -“Oh, pray, my dear, don’t let us have that over again! I gave you my -reason once, and if it don’t satisfy you, I’m sorry, for I have no -other to offer. Now behave like a sensible woman, and make up your -mind to be happy and employ yourself usefully in my absence. Come!” -with a bright idea, “how would you like to buy another horse and begin -to break him in?” - -“I’ll remember that!” gloomily, yet with a distinct lightening of the -gloom. “But I warn you, if this is the way you answer me, you won’t -find me asking you another time. I’ll just come.” - -“Oh, very well. If I know anything of the General, you’ll find -yourself sent back under escort, after a lecture which will prove to -you once for all that he has a rough side to his tongue, though ladies -don’t often feel it.” - -“If you knew anything of me, you’d know you were merely inviting me to -prove you wrong. You’ll see!” He might have been excused for imagining -she had some specific plan in view, but her mind was roaming vaguely -over various possibilities of making herself disagreeable. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - AN ERROR OF JUDGMENT. - -/Life/ at Sahar after the departure of the expedition was every whit -as dull as Eveleen had known it would be. For a whole week she held -out obstinately against that tempting suggestion of Richard’s that she -should buy another horse--for the sole reason that the suggestion was -his. But involuntarily her mind was noting and registering the points -of possible colts as she passed them, and when the week was over, she -felt--relief mingling with triumph in having resisted for so -long--that the curb of self-restraint might be relaxed. Perhaps the -fact that she had just received a letter from Richard helped to -lighten her spirits, though his letters might best be described by the -term arid, while Brian’s--save for one scrawl on the back of an old -official envelope--were represented by a postscript added to her -husband’s, “Your brother desires his fond love, and will be certain to -write to-morrow.” But Eveleen was aware of her own deficiencies as a -letter-writer, and with unusual fairness, expected no better from -other people. - -She was just going to dress for her evening ride, intending to -requisition the escort of one of the subalterns left unwillingly at -Sahar for a visit to a tribal camp not far off, where she had taken -note of a likely-looking steed, when the sound of an arrival outside, -and a masculine voice enquiring for the Beebee, brought her hastily to -the verandah, anticipating a messenger from the front. But it was -Colonel Bayard who ran up the steps to greet her--debonair and -friendly as ever, and with an air of increased cheerfulness which was -almost elation. - -“Yes, it is I myself!” he cried, shaking hands so vigorously as almost -to forget to bow. “It’s good to be here again, Mrs Ambrose--I don’t -even regret my lost furlough, though my passage home was taken for -this week. But the delays in getting back from Bombay! I have been -fretting like a war-horse--but not for his reason. I don’t want to -plunge into a battle--far from it. My one desire is to prevent -fighting. It was a horrid blow to hear at the landing-stage that Sir -Henry had actually marched against the Khans, but I trust--I hope--I -may yet be in time to put an end to this lamentable adventure. And how -are you? but I need not enquire--your looks speak for you. Richard in -good health, I trust? but unhappy, I am sure, about this madness of -the General’s. Well, we shall put that right, I hope. I must start -to-night to catch up the force. Can’t be too thankful I am not a day -or two later.” - -“Come in, come in!” said Eveleen, when she was allowed to utter a -word, and she led the way, not sorry to turn her face from him for a -moment. A dreadful suspicion was growing upon her that Colonel Bayard -was under a wholly false impression as to the footing on which he -stood and the object for which he had been recalled, but she could not -dash his hopes by saying so. An Englishwoman might have told him -bluntly Sir Harry’s views regarding him, but no Irishwoman could -possibly bring herself to do more than hint at things in a roundabout -way, leaving him to arrive at the truth for himself, if he could. -“After all,” she said, rather nervously, “it might not have made much -difference, d’ye think?” - -“Every difference, so long as there has been no bloodshed, ma’am. If -we can only avoid that, I don’t despair of accommodating the whole -matter.” - -“Ah, but if you knew the way the Khans have been playing fast and -loose! Nothing will hold them to their engagements. How can you reach -an accommodation?” - -“They are puzzled and irritated by treatment they don’t understand,” -he responded eagerly. “But it’s true I don’t know the precise position -of affairs at this moment. That’s why I come to you, since I hear you -had a letter from Ambrose this afternoon.” - -“Ambrose believes Sir Harry will reach Sultankot, though not without -loss.” - -“But how? and what does he propose to do when he gets there?” - -“His plan is to take his whole force to the edge of the desert, so -they say, and then to mount five or six hundred men on camels and make -a dash across. Two guns he means to carry with him, and they, he -believes, will compel surrender. If not, he’ll storm the place.” - -“Madness! midsummer madness!” cried Colonel Bayard sorrowfully. “Why, -he can have no conception even of the number of camels needed for such -a force.” - -“There has been difficulty in getting camels, I know. The contractors -have been fined for not bringing enough.” - -“Of course! What could Lennox expect? They know the expedition is -foredoomed to disaster, and they will keep their beasts out of it if -they can. And with insufficient transport----” - -“I wouldn’t say ’twas insufficient. Brian says”--Eveleen smiled at the -remembrance of the note scrawled on the envelope--“that the General is -reconsidering his high opinion of his dear nice camels now he sees -them at work, and that he’d be sorely tempted to shorten them all by a -neck if it could be done without diminishing their usefulness. There’s -four miles and a half of them, so he says.” - -“Four miles and a half? Fifteen feet each? Only fifteen hundred,” he -calculated rapidly. “And the General’s own things must require a -hundred at least--more probably two--and other officers in proportion. -What is there left----?” - -“Now there you’re wrong.” Eveleen smiled openly. “Four camels and no -more--that’s the General’s share. A soldier’s tent--his fine grand one -is left here--and everything else to match. And other people are cut -down just the same.” - -“This is more and more serious. I had hoped he might be held back by -the inadequacy of his transport, but he may succeed in actually -penetrating into the desert. And there--what with spies and false -guides to lead him astray or into ambushes, and secret emissaries who -will cut the water-skins at night and leave him destitute, and that -dastardly practice of poisoning the wells--why, we have all the -materials for the most shocking disaster that has ever befallen -British arms!” - -“But sure he has Shahbaz Khan with him, and he swears he’ll make him -taste all the water first! It’s a pity it wouldn’t be that old wretch -Gul Ali, but Ambrose says he has gone and made himself scarce again.” - -“Made himself scarce? Do I understand Sir Henry was so ill-advised as -to subject the poor old fellow to personal restraint?” - -“Not a bit of it! He was staying with his brother Shahbaz--quite free, -and as happy as possible. Sir Harry calls on Shahbaz, and sends word -he’ll pay his respects to Gul Ali to-morrow. But when to-morrow comes -the poor silly old creature is gone, leaving word that he never really -meant to resign the Turban--’twas all a mistake.” - -“A mistake! Of course; who could have thought otherwise? He hoped to -placate Sir Henry by submission, and finding, as he must think, that -his malice still pursues him, he withdraws his abdication and seeks -safety in flight.” - -“But ’twas all properly written out in his Koran, in the presence of -all the holy men they could get together at Bidi,” persisted Eveleen. -“Shahbaz Khan may have persuaded him to do it, but having done it, -would you say he oughtn’t stick to it? Sometimes I wonder”--she -stopped a moment--“will Shahbaz Khan be making mischief?” - -“It’s possible. I have always thought him a fine fellow, and the -injured rather than the injurer, but if he is hoping to secure the -Turban by favour of the General---- Tell me what you mean, Mrs -Ambrose.” - -“Why,” said Eveleen, rather flattered, “I wondered mightn’t he have -got Gul Ali to resign the Turban by telling him his life was in danger -from the General? The old man is silly enough to believe it. Then when -the General says he will be coming to call, Shahbaz humbugs the old -creature with some tale that he’ll take him away prisoner. Do you see, -it’s his interest that the two of them wouldn’t meet? So the old man -gets away--his brother making things easy for him--and the General -thinks worse of Gul Ali than ever, but only scolds Shahbaz for not -keeping better guard over him.” - -“You have it! That’s it, I’m convinced, Mrs Ambrose! Shahbaz is a -villain, who is abusing the General’s confidence shockingly. Poor old -Gul Ali has been shamefully treated. As for the General, he must be -blind not to see the whole thing is a hum--but knowing no Persian, of -course---- Well, I am tenfold thankful I came to you. A lady’s insight -will often penetrate where our obtuser minds are at fault. But now to -try and put this wrong right. A dash into the desert after the -General--he must be stopped at any cost in his head long course----” - -“I wonder wouldn’t you find that a little difficult?” suggested -Eveleen. “When Sir Harry has made up his mind--and after thinking -things over so long----” - -“Ah, I see you are afraid I may speak too warmly! Nay, you need have -no fear. I have not a word of blame for him. The fault lies with the -delays which kept me from his side when he summoned me, and forced -him, as he no doubt believes, to this rash attempt. But his is a noble -mind. Few men, confronted with such a situation, would have realised -themselves incompetent to deal with it, and called back to their -councils the person they had superseded. Believe me, he shall know the -honour I feel for him. Sir Henry’s march stopped, then--and Heaven -grant it may be before there’s any loss of life!--I must return hither -at once, and make all speed to Qadirabad. If I can arrive before the -Khans, outraged by the General’s high-handed proceedings, have given -orders for a universal muster and the extermination of the British, -all will be well. I am their friend, and they recognise me as such. -Continually, as I came up the river, messengers have intercepted me, -bearing greetings from their Highnesses, and entreaties to come -ashore. But I refused to land, even at the capital, merely sending a -letter of apology to the durbar, pleading the necessity of consulting -with the General before I could wait upon them. But now”--he was -walking up and down, speaking in short hurried sentences--“I will go -to them, and I humbly trust, take peace with me. They know me and -trust me, and I go to them in complete confidence.” - -“It’s quite safe, would you say?” demanded Eveleen, a stupendous idea -seizing her. - -“Absolutely. Why not? I assure you you need have no fear for me, -though I know your kind heart.” He smiled at her. - -“But I have not. Tell me now, you would take Mrs Bayard with you if -she was here?” - -“Undoubtedly.” Colonel Bayard’s voice was valiant. - -“Then would you take me?” - -“Well, I’m afraid Ambrose might have some slight objection to -that--eh?” - -“Oh, if he was going--of course I meant that.” - -“Then your presence could do nothing but good, as far as I can see. -But he ain’t likely to be with me, I fear, so I must deny myself that -pleasure as well. Many thanks for all you have told me. Now I am -prepared. Good-bye, good-bye! If I succeed in curbing the General’s -rashness, the credit will be largely yours.” - -He was down the steps and off again before Eveleen had done more than -realise he was still labouring under the delusion that he was the -person who counted, and not the General. But her mind was so full of -her new idea that she consoled herself with the assurance that ’twas -not her fault; she had done what she could to put him right; and if he -would only take the truth from Sir Harry’s own lips--why, he must. -Apparently he snatched some sort of meal at the Club or the Mess-house -while his baggage was being cut down to the General’s Spartan -standard, for as she was returning from her ride--which she took alone -after all, because she had plans to think out--she saw him going on -board one of the flat-bottomed boats which plied across the river. Two -men--evidently a servant and an orderly--were with him, and a camel -and two horses were already on board. She waved him farewell, and rode -on towards the landing-stage where the steamers moored, where she met -the very man she wanted--the captain of the _Asteroid_. He had seen -his vessel warped out again from the bank and all made snug on board, -and was on his way to sup with his crony, the captain of the _Nebula_, -on shore. - -“Then you’ll be waiting here for orders--for days maybe?” she asked, -when she had greeted him. - -“That’s so, ma’am--with wood on board, and everything ready to get up -steam at an hour’s notice. Colonel Bayard said he might be back any -day, with orders to go to Qadirabad at once.” - -“And did he tell you that if Major Ambrose or my brother was with him, -you were to let me know, because I’ll be coming too?” - -“Why, no, ma’am. To Qadirabad--just now?” He looked at her in -astonishment, but Eveleen was not to be cowed by looks. She had -realised that it was almost certain the General would send a member of -his own staff with Colonel Bayard if he let him go to the Khans at -all, and why not Richard or Brian? She looked sweetly at the sailor. - -“And why wouldn’t I? Sure it’s just the proof of peace my presence -will be--making it quite certain we have no warlike intentions. My -going can do nothing but good--so the Colonel said to me himself just -now.” - -Captain Franks, like other men, was powerless against Eveleen when she -really brought her batteries to bear, but he struggled gallantly. “You -won’t like it much, I’m afraid, ma’am. There’s sure to be troops on -board, and horses--a large escort.” - -“I won’t mind--if you’ll pitch me a tent on deck again?” - -“As you please, ma’am. But you’ll find it rarely chilly these -nights--not like when you came up from Bab-us-Sahel.” - -Eveleen shivered mentally, for she hated cold. Her own first impulse -had been to take a high hand, and remark casually that the cabin--the -only one--would suit her quite well, but it had been succeeded by -another. Richard was always saying, or hinting, that she was -unreasonable. She would show him how wrong he was by refusing to -deprive him and his friend of the comfort--such as it was--of the -cabin, and making martyrs of herself and Ketty on deck. She smiled -heroically at the captain. - -“As if I’d mind that! I’ll keep everything packed ready, and be on -board as soon as I get your message.” - -Ketty and the old butler could hardly be expected to look at things -from her point of view, and by the tone of the long conversations she -heard going on between them after her orders were given, she gathered -that they objected strenuously to the proposed journey; but they knew -better than to remonstrate with her, and she ignored their discontent -callously. One more letter she received from Richard, written when the -forlorn hope was about to strike into the desert:-- - - - “Bayard arrived this evening, and accompanies us,” he wrote. “I fear - he is disappointed by his interview with Sir Henry. He tells me he - called upon you. Surely you might have taken the trouble to make him - aware of his true position here?” - - -“Taken the trouble, indeed! As if I hadn’t tried! And when he wouldn’t -listen to a word!” said Eveleen indignantly, and passed on to another -scrawl from Brian, written like the first on the back of a huge -envelope:-- - - - “Don’t quarrel with my stationery,” he said. “The General has an - _economy fit_ on, and has locked up all the writing-paper, and I must - send you a few lines. Why would I always be writing to you about - camels, I wonder? but believe me, I’d give a year of my life for you - to have seen the things that have left me near dead with laughing at - this moment. Three hundred and fifty men of the Queen’s --th mounted - on camels, two to a camel, and camels and men all strangers to one - another. But they were not mounted long. I give you my word, the whole - country was speckled over with spots of scarlet and dun, wrestling in - every variety of contention, and whether the language of the soldiers - or of the camels was the worst, I would not like to say. And there was - poor old Colonel Plummer looking at the scene with the liveliest - disgust I ever saw depicted on a human phiz--he was in the Dragoons - once, you may remember. But he plucked up heart and plunged into the - fray, reconciling his men to their mounts, and the camels to one - another, till he got ’em into some sort of order, and he is now - putting his fantastic force through a few simple evolutions. He’s a - great old sportsman--almost as great as my old lad, who is near bent - double with rheumatism when he crawls out of his little tent to mount - his horse, and unstiffens bit by bit as he rides, till you’d swear he - was the model for a statue of the Duke. A fine set we are, I assure - you--with our camel-men and our two howitzers drawn by camels, and our - detachment of horse to frighten off the desert banditti from our - slow-moving column. We have provisions for a fortnight, water for four - days, our tents--common soldiers’ tents--and nothing in the world - else. Won’t we be a sight to make the ladies stare when we come - through this?” - - -That was the last news from the column for nearly three weeks, though -messengers still arrived from the main body, which was encamped about -Shahbaz Khan’s fortress of Bidi--thus holding his family hostage, -though this was not stated, in case of any attempt at treachery on his -part. But there was no call to dash into the desert and rescue Sir -Harry and his force, and even the tongue of rumour was silent in face -of his daring move. Then at last there came a summons from Captain -Franks to Eveleen. He had been warned by an express messenger to start -at once for a wooding-station about thirty miles down the river, there -to pick up Colonel Bayard and Major Ambrose and take them on to -Qadirabad. If Mrs Ambrose wished to go too, would she kindly lose no -time? Mrs Ambrose was at the landing-stage little more than an hour -after receiving the message, and found everything in a bustle, horses -being embarked in flat-bottomed boats, which the _Asteroid_ was to -tow, and the troops to whom they belonged crowded on board the vessel -herself. There did not seem to be an inch of room to spare anywhere. - -“Are your horses to go, ma’am?” asked Captain Franks distractedly, as -he welcomed her to her tent, and in the same breath bade the mate -beware lest the lubbers on board that flat should knock all the ship’s -paint off. - -Once more Eveleen showed herself triumphantly reasonable. “No, I’ll -borrow,” she said, and told the syces to go back. It was a very -disturbed night that lay before her, for even when the _Asteroid_ cast -off at last, the human cargo squabbled grievously over its scanty -accommodation. But in the morning the trials of the past hours were -forgotten when she was invited up to the paddle-box to look out over -the plain covered with stunted trees which extended southwards, and -watch for the arrival of the envoys. The _Asteroid_ reached the -meeting-place first, and it was not till some hours later that a -moving cloud of dust in the distance heralded the appearance of -mounted men at the far end of the clearing which was due to the -insatiable demands of the steamers for wood. There were three men -perched on camels, looking perilously high up and absurdly unsafe, and -a small body of horse. - -“Sure it can’t be them!” cried Eveleen, as the camels knelt and the -three riders dismounted and limped towards the primitive wharf. “These -are blacks--not Europeans.” - -“Never seen a European fresh from a desert trip before, ma’am?” asked -Captain Franks jovially. “Look at their hair and eyes, and you’ll -see.” - -“It is, it is. And my brother too. Sure it’s a nice little family -party you’ll be carrying this voyage, captain!” and she waved her hand -gaily to the advancing three. They ought to have been pleased when -they recognised the white figure welcoming them from the paddle-box, -but it was quite obvious they were not. Richard Ambrose pulled up -suddenly, and said something to Colonel Bayard, who shook his head, -and Brian gave a subdued yell, and tried to hide behind the other two. - -“I don’t want female society!” he wailed. “I want baths, and baths, -and baths, and clean things, and to lie in the shade with a cheroot -and a bottle of beer and all the saltpetre in Khemistan to cool it. -Why would a man have to talk and behave pretty when he don’t want to? -Major Ambrose, sir”--imitating the General at his gruffest--“pray why -don’t you keep that wife of yours in better order?” - -“My misfortune!” responded Richard briefly, as he came up the gangway. -“No, my dear, pray don’t touch me”--warding Eveleen off as she ran -down to the deck. “I will come to you again presently. At this moment -I am not fit to speak to anybody. I did not expect to see you--or any -lady--on board here.” - -“I am to blame, I fear,” said Colonel Bayard, evidently calling to -mind that last conversation. “But I own”--with a gentle reproof which -would have stricken most women to the heart--“I had not looked to find -my anxieties doubled by the honour of Mrs Ambrose’s company on our -expedition.” - -“Ah, now, won’t you say the pleasure?” Eveleen called after him, as -the three were met and eagerly welcomed by the officers on board, and -disappeared with them. - -“Seems almost as if they weren’t expecting to see you, ma’am,” said -Captain Franks, in a puzzled voice. - -“That’s just it. They never thought I’d come. But that only shows they -don’t know me--eh?” said Eveleen cheerfully. - -But she did not return to the paddle-box, choosing rather to sit at -her tent-door, on the little piece of deck that was sacred to her use, -in case Richard should be in the same mind when he returned. Not that -she would mind Captain Franks--or any one else hearing anything he had -to say; but if the poor man was determined to make an exhibition of -himself, ’twas kinder to let him do it in private. It was also kinder, -no doubt, to take the initiative in the conversation when he appeared, -that he might have another moment in which to recover his temper. - -“That’s better--a thousand times better!” she was looking at him -critically. “You were quite coffee-coloured--black coffee--just now. -Now y’are tea-coloured, and I suppose the tea will get weaker and -weaker till you have your natural complexion again? And it’s nice to -see you looking respectable and like yourself. Did you--ah, now, did -you really come back in those rags expecting I’d mend them?” - -“Not quite such a fool!” snapped Richard. He was really very angry, -that was clear, and any sense of guilt Eveleen might have felt -evaporated promptly. “Is it quite beyond you to understand that I am -exceedingly displeased to find you here?” - -“Didn’t I tell you I’d come the next time without asking your leave? -Sure y’ought have known.” - -“Perhaps I ought. At any rate, pray believe that if it had been -possible to go back and put you on shore again it should have been -done.” - -“But there’s no difficulty in believing that!” innocently. - -He restrained himself with an effort. “Can’t you realise that were you -a child, these mad escapades would be viewed more leniently? But for a -female of what should be a discreet age----” - -“Discreet?” she snatched the word out of his mouth. “When I behave the -way you’d consider suitable to a female of discreet age I’ll be dead -and gone! Maybe you’ll be satisfied with me then, Major Ambrose!” - -“Not I. I shall be dead long before that,” sardonically, and Eveleen -screamed with laughter. Perhaps it was as well that Brian came round -the tent into the reserved space at the moment. - -“Sorry to interrupt your private conversation,” he said, “but -positively there’s nowhere else to go.” - -“It’s not private,” cried Eveleen, still overcome with mirth--“except -on Major Ambrose’s part. He’s just made a joke, and he never will do -that when any one else is there, though he knows how I delight in his -jokes. But sit down, Brian boy, and tell me all about everything, -while Ambrose thinks of some more jokes for the next time we are alone -together. Did y’ever get to Sultankot, now?” - -“We did,” responded Brian promptly. “But nobody else ever will.” - -“Do you tell me that, now? And why?” - -“Because we blew it up. I wonder wouldn’t you have heard the noise at -Sahar. Sure we were all bothered in our hearing for days after.” - -“But what a thing to go all that way to capture the place, and then -blow it up! Was the garrison inside?” - -“All the garrison there was--which was none. No, ’twas a mighty fine -place for all the young Khans to escape to, and talk big about what -they’d do when they met the General. But when they got his card, and -his message that he proposed to do himself the honour of paying ’em a -visit--why, they were not at home.” - -“But tell us now how it happened. Did you see them running away?” - -“Not the least taste of a sight of one of ’em. ’Twas the most -mysterious, queerest thing in the world--Ambrose will tell you so -too”--Richard grunted. “’Twas like coming suddenly on the stage of a -theatre without any actors. There we stood--Sir Harry and the -staff--on the edge of the sandhills. Down below us--like as if ’twas -in a cup, and near enough to touch with your finger--was the fortress, -beautifully built, all the towers and ramparts so clean-cut you’d say -it had only been finished the night before, and the morning sun -shining on it in a sort of romantic way made you think of something in -Scott. There! I meant to ask Keeling what it was--he knows Scott off -by heart--and I forgot. The road down the cliff was full in sight, and -there were the troops moving down into the valley, the camels’ feet -making no sound, the soldiers struck with awe, or something of the -sort. At any rate they were all dumb too, but ’twas ‘Eyes right!’ with -every man as he came out of the shadow of the cliff, as if they were -approaching the saluting-point at a review. I never saw anything like -it. And still there was no sound from the fort, no sign of a human -being even, while the troops formed up and advanced--no answer to our -summons. So at last we found the gates open, the cannon all freshly -loaded and primed, huge quantities of powder, grain enough to feed an -army, wells of good water--and not a soul anywhere! ’Twas like an -enchanted place. You longed for the sound of a bugle to break the -spell, even if it meant a rush of the enemy upon us out of hiding. But -there was no enemy to rush out; they had all made themselves scarce a -few hours before, when they saw we were really coming, and it seemed -we had nothing to do but leave our friend Shahbaz in possession, and -come back. But the General didn’t see it that way. He likes Shahbaz -all right, but he had a shrewd notion that his heart wouldn’t -precisely have been broke if we had all been swallowed up in the -desert, and that he’d be just as well without a strong place like that -all to himself--so difficult to get at, too. So Sultankot was -sentenced to be destroyed, and I will say this for Shahbaz, that he -took it like a sportsman! We had uncommon fun doing the business, for -we plugged shell into the place--just so that we mightn’t have dragged -the guns all that way for nothing--till it reached the powder, and -pop! Shahbaz was as busy as any of us, taking his turn to lay the gun, -and we all shouted and laughed like mad, while the General stood by, -grieving over the place like an old prophet in spectacles, because it -had taken so much trouble to build, and the builder must have been so -pleased with his job. It’s the wonderful old chap he is! Y’ought have -seen him on the way there, Evie--coming straight from writing his -endless letters with his hands all crippled to turning out Her -Majesty’s Europeans to drag the guns up the sandhills that were too -much for the camels. They run ’em up one steep place of a thousand -feet or so in five minutes, all joking and cheering, and old Harry -dashing the briny drops from his manly eyes, and swearing he loved the -British soldier more than any man on earth. Where the ground was not -so steep we used teams of sixty men and fourteen camels to each gun, -and got ’em up like winkin’. The men turned the least bit rusty on the -way back, and I don’t wonder at it, after all they had gone -through,--but he can do anything with ’em. Y’ought have heard ’em -cheer him when he went for a Madras Sapper who was pretending to make -a road for the guns--knocked him down, took his spade from him and set -to work himself, and talked to him--my word! the fellow was green with -fright though he couldn’t understand a syllable!” - -“But why would the men turn rusty?” enquired Eveleen anxiously, for -Her Majesty’s --th was an Irish regiment. - -“And why wouldn’t they, with a fortnight of such marches and such -work, and sand to eat and drink and breathe--and very little else? -Why, the dry air cracks your boots so that you carry about with you a -private desert on each foot, and the sand gets between you and your -clothes till you feel your shirt is made of sandpaper! And talking of -your clothes, you may be thankful you and they are well scoured with -sand, for there’s no such thing as a clean shirt. You turn the one you -have on your back inside-out when it gets too shockingly dirty, and -when t’other side has got considerably worse you turn it back again, -and so on till you’re like a set of colliers.” - -“Now do you wonder we are the colour of coffee?” demanded Richard -suddenly. - -“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were as black as a coal! And no wonder -y’are thin, poor creatures, if sand is all you’ve had to eat!” - -“Well, not all,” admitted Brian. “But we calculate that each man’s -teeth have been ground down a quarter of an inch by the sand he’s -chewed with his food--more or less according to his appetite. And -never, never will we get the last of the sand out of our hair till -we’re all bald! D’ye wonder then the General had no difficulty in -getting complaints when he went round hunting for ’em as usual? But he -turned the men round his little finger easily, and they went back to -duty as meek as lambs when he had fired ’em off one of his heroic -orations, full of Assaye and Corunna.” - -“Well, but now, what will have been the good of it all?” cried -Eveleen. “You have destroyed a place that was not doing anybody any -harm, and the people that were doing the harm have all escaped.” - -“Don’t say that to Bayard, I beg of you!” said Richard quickly. “To -his mind the one good point of a bad business is that no lives have -been sacrificed.” - -“Did I hear my name mentioned?” said Colonel Bayard’s voice, and he -came round the corner of the tent, throwing away the end of his -cheroot as he did so. “May I intrude, Mrs Ambrose? Richard, you and I -must have an explanation; there has been no opportunity hitherto. You -shall do us the honour to judge between us, ma’am.” - -Brian rose hastily. “I think, Colonel, you will speak more freely -without me,” he said with some formality. “Any criticism of Sir Henry -Lennox offered in my hearing ’twould be at once my duty and my -pleasure to resent. So I’ll leave you,” and he departed. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - A LAST EFFORT. - -/Colonel Bayard/ looked after Brian with a sigh. “Your brother is -highly conscientious, ma’am, but I hope I know better than to use -improper language about his chief in his presence. Nor have I anything -worse to say of the General than that I believe from my soul he had no -evil intention in putting me in my present disagreeable position.” - -“Ah, believe me, his one thought was to atone to you for any slight -Lord Maryport might have seemed to offer,” said Eveleen earnestly. He -sighed again, impatiently. - -“Then why this strange behaviour on his part? I was upheld by the -consciousness of rectitude, reconciled to the Governor-General’s -unjust treatment by the prospect it gave me of a speedy reunion with -my wife--actually on the point of departure for home. Then I am -summoned back in the most peremptory manner, compelled to sacrifice my -passage and relinquish my hopes. And for what? I believed, all my -friends believed, the Bombay papers proclaimed their hearty -concurrence--that Sir Henry had recognised his own incapacity for the -task allotted to him, and desired the Governor-General to command my -return. There was nothing peculiar in this save the singularity of -such a frank acknowledgment on his part--which I conceived accorded -strictly with the candour of his nature as I had experienced it,--and -it explained the haughty tone of Lord Maryport’s letter. The assiduous -attentions of the Khans on my way up the river showed that they took -the same view, and I made haste to join Sir Henry and relieve him, as -I imagined, from the burden of a duty unsuited to his talents. What -was the reality? I make no complaint of finding myself second where I -was formerly first, though I own it grated upon me; but in our first -interview it was made clear to me that Sir Henry desired my services -purely in a minor capacity. I was to be nothing but a _putli_ [puppet] -in his hands. Tell me, I beg of you, whether this was his attitude -from the first, or whether he changed towards me when he perceived the -delight with which my return was welcomed?” - -He had so obviously decided in his own mind in favour of the second -alternative, that Eveleen and her husband both found it difficult to -answer him. Richard spoke hesitatingly at last. “I tried to hint at -what I believed to be the General’s true state of mind in one of my -letters, you may remember.” - -“Did you? It’s possible. But if I noticed it, I set it down to your -habitual caution. But Mrs Ambrose--why did she not warn me three weeks -ago? I made no secret then of the feelings that inspired me.” - -“Ah, forgive me!” cried Eveleen, conscience-stricken. “I tried--indeed -I tried--but you would not understand. And how would I tell you such -a thing as that straight out?” - -“No, I suppose it would be impossible to an Irish person,” he spoke as -though to himself. “But what I can’t make out is”--with renewed -vehemence--“how Sir Henry can have asked for me, knowing my views and -my friendship with the Khans, and knowing also that all his intentions -were diametrically opposed to the policy I have consistently pursued?” - -“No, there you do him an injustice,” said Richard quickly. “He had no -such intentions--he was as favourably disposed towards their -Highnesses as yourself. You and he were agreed upon the necessity of -forcing them to observe their obligations--but doing so in the most -considerate manner. I give you my word, I believe there has been too -much consideration. Had you been with us instead of at Bombay, and -witnessed the ingenious provocations, the childish artifices to which -the Khans have resorted, as though determined to tire out our -patience, you must have decided, with the General, that they had -exceeded all limits of toleration.” - -“‘_Et tu, Brute!_’” said Colonel Bayard mournfully. “‘Mine own -familiar friend----’” - -“Pray don’t think I am alone in this. You have met a good many of the -Khemistan Europeans in these three weeks. Is there one of them that -takes your view of the case in opposition to the General’s?” - -“The General is the disposer of benefits nowadays,” irritably. “Nay, -forgive me--I am unjust. But these youths are all agog for -war--naturally enough; Sir Henry has trained ’em for it. Of course -they rejoice in the prospect of hostilities.” - -“Not I. I have seen war in Ethiopia, and know what it means. Am I -likely to wish to bring it upon Khemistan if it can be avoided? But I -tell you plainly, I believe a temporising policy here, pursued further -at the present juncture, would lead to a retreat and a disaster which, -following upon our Ethiopian misfortunes, would lose us India. The -Khans--and especially Gul Ali--have played with us too long already.” - -“I could forgive Sir Henry everything,” cried Colonel Bayard -vigorously, roused by the name, “but his treatment of Gul Ali. To -affect to hold the poor old man to a renunciation extorted from him by -force by that villain Shahbaz Khan is an outrage of which I had -fancied him incapable.” - -“But sure he did resign the Turban to Shahbaz!” said Eveleen in -perplexity. - -“True--most solemnly,” agreed her husband. “But when he quitted -Shahbaz’s hospitable roof, he saw fit to change his mind, and declare -the renunciation a farce.” - -“And no wonder!” cried Colonel Bayard warmly. “When it was only -brought about by the pressure imposed on him by that most abandoned -scoundrel----” - -“We have often agreed that Shahbaz was the ablest of the Khans,” said -Richard imperturbably. “You said to me once you saw no hope for the -dynasty but in him.” - -“True, but he had not then shown himself in his real--his most -iniquitous colours. To force his innocent and venerable brother to -cede him the Turban by threats----” - -“His innocent and venerable brother having failed to rob him of his -heirship by intrigues----” crisply. - -“Ambrose, you are hopeless!” cried Colonel Bayard warmly. “The General -has bewitched you. Mrs Ambrose, in your gentle breast I know I shall -touch a chord of sympathy with the aged Prince’s misfortunes. Listen, -I beg of you. I was riding with the advanced guard from Bidi--where I -caught up the force--when we met a solitary _cossid_ mounted on a -camel. He recognised me, and dismounting, threw himself at my feet, -and bewailed the miserable lot of his master. With the General’s -permission I volunteered to seek out my old friend, and convey to him -the assurances of safety and kind treatment from Sir Henry, which it -occurred to me Shahbaz Khan must have kept back. You had said to me -that you suspected something of the sort, ma’am; do you remember? -Well, I found Gul Ali encamped in the jungle--a few wretched _rowties_ -[small common tents] sheltering the few retainers who remained -faithful to him. Our appearance--your brother accompanied me, by the -way--produced at first the utmost consternation, the fugitives fearing -an attack. But my name restored confidence, and the Prince met and -embraced me, and conducted me into his miserable dwelling. Old and -sick, exposed to the heavy rains--this was the plight of the man I had -last seen enthroned in his palace. Briefly he unfolded to me his -brother’s perfidy. As I expected, Shahbaz had induced him to abdicate -by the strongest assurances of Sir Henry’s hostile disposition towards -him. I pledged him my honour that he was mistaken, and he would fain -have accompanied me there and then to make his submission. But I knew -he would find Shahbaz with the General, and fearing his timidity might -betray him once more, I persuaded him to send his son--not Karimdâd, -of course, but one of the younger ones--and a nephew instead.” - -“That was the mistake!” said Richard sharply. “Had he but met the -General face to face----” - -“Easy enough to see where another man has gone wrong.” Colonel Bayard -spoke with some displeasure. “Well, ma’am, sherbet was served, and we -parted with the usual compliments. My one aim was to lead the young -Khans to Sir Henry before they could be intimidated by Shahbaz. Alas! -it did not occur to me that he might corrupt them instead, though when -we met him he embraced them cordially, and begged a visit after their -audience. I took them to Sir Henry’s tent, where we all sat on the -carpet together, since there were no chairs. The General, who had met -the youths very civilly, addressed them kindly, but with -severity--through his Munshi, not through me--nor did he make the -slightest show of consulting me. Seeing me thus set aside, and reading -in his decided tone that he regarded them as rebels, is it any wonder -the young Khans were seized with alarm? They left his presence--I -suggested to him to show his goodwill by shaking hands with ’em, which -he did very readily--to seek Shahbaz, and I grieve to say they were -persuaded by that villainous plotter to betray their aged parent into -his hands. They saw Shahbaz enjoying Sir Henry’s favour and possessing -all the tokens of power, and in return for his bribes they fell in -with his designs. I despatched a spy to Gul Ali’s camp to mark their -return there, for I feared all was not well, and it was as I feared. -They insisted upon the General’s angry tone and the curtness of the -terms he had used, and declared it as his command that Gul Ali should -surrender himself again to Shahbaz at Bidi. Asked what part I, their -friend, had taken in the interview, they replied that even were I -sincere in my professions--of which they hinted a doubt--it was clear -I was devoid of any power to help. Do you wonder that the unfortunate -old man feared to offer the personal submission for which Sir Henry -had stipulated? Once again he made his escape--and so unremitting is -Shahbaz in his villainy that he even succeeded in bribing his -brother’s Munshi to substitute a defiant message under his seal for -the letter he had despatched in excuse for his non-appearance. Sir -Henry was highly irritated, and lent an ear all the more readily to -the poisonous suggestions of Shahbaz. With a view of clinching -matters, he replied to the letter with a direct refusal to communicate -further with Gul Ali unless he gave effect to his forced renunciation -by recognising his brother as Chief Khan.” - -“But sure ’twas the wisest thing he could do!” Eveleen had been -bubbling over for some moments with the desire to speak. “Wouldn’t you -say the unfortunate old creature was silly? He can do no good for -himself or anybody else.” - -Colonel Bayard was painfully taken aback. “I didn’t expect this from -you, Mrs Ambrose. Is the unhappy Gul Ali to be branded as a fool -because unfortunate? His misfortunes all spring from the misdeeds of -others.” - -“Ah, but do they? Is he able to retain the fidelity of a single -supporter, will you tell me? Has he taken one bit of the advice you -have given him, or kept any single promise he has made? I grant you -he’s unfortunate, but I’d say with all my heart he was incapable as -well!” - -“A Daniel come to judgment!” said Richard drily. - -“And if he ain’t incapable,” pursued Eveleen, rushing on before -Colonel Bayard could speak, “he’s treacherous, believe me. As Ambrose -says, you don’t know the things he has been doing--stopping the -_dâks_ and attacking our boats on the river, besides the army he’s -been getting together. And when poor Sir Harry sends word that the -army is to be disbanded, all the old horror will do is to say there’s -no army to disband.” - -“Precisely. How can he disband an army if he hasn’t got one? I grant -you that in their childish way the Khans have sought to lead Sir Henry -to think they were raising troops, but this was purely make-believe, -designed to deter him from attempting decisive measures against them.” - -“Then they were finely mistaken in Sir Harry! But believe me, they -have been assembling their Arabit hordes for months. We have heard too -much of them to doubt that. Ah, don’t let your kind heart set you -against the General and all of us who see that unfortunate old -deceiver as he really is, and not as you do--an angel with wings a -weeshy bit muddy!” - -“I have brought this upon myself, I suppose----” with a pique he could -not disguise. “But don’t be afraid, ma’am. I value my friends too -highly to part company with ’em over a difference of opinion, and I -trust they’ll extend the like compliment to me. This last effort to -preserve the authority of the Khans and prevent bloodshed I’ll carry -through with my whole heart. If it fail, my work here is done. I am -merely, as Sir Henry has more than once reminded me, a commissioner -under a peace treaty, and if there’s no treaty, I am at liberty to go -home.” - -“Now why would such a nice man be so unreasonable as all that?” asked -Eveleen mournfully as he left them. - -“Why, my dear, ain’t all nice people the same, in your estimation?” -Richard’s tone tried to be jaunty--not very successfully. - -“Like yourself? Well, I wouldn’t say quite all--but a good many, -certainly. But sure Bayard will never be able to call Sir Harry -unreasonable after this. Did y’ever see anything like the way he has -given in to him time and again?” - -“I own I never thought he had it in him to be so patient. If Bayard -succeeds in persuading the Khans to consult their own interests and -submit, they will have the General to thank, not themselves.” - -“And if they won’t consult their own interests, and will not submit, -there’s not a soul on earth can accuse Sir Harry of dealing with them -hastily.” - -“I don’t say that. People can say strange things. But if the Khans -have an anna’s worth of sense in their foolish heads, they will -submit--having stood out to the very last moment.” - -“Well, I’m sorry for it!” said Eveleen. “Why, now”--as he looked at -her in amazement,--“have you forgotten I was against the silly -creatures from the first? Ever since Bayard said he had no power to -make them treat the women properly, don’t you know?” - -“I had forgotten, certainly. Now I have some faint recollection----” - -“Y’are very flattering!” sharply. - -“If you expect me to remember all the contradictory speeches you make -on all sorts of topics, I fear, my dear----” - -“When you talk like that, you make me feel I’d do _anything_--anything -in the wide world--to make an impression, to let you feel you had to -reckon with me.” - -“My dear, pray don’t! I assure you it ain’t necessary any longer.” -Whether his alarm was real or pretended she could not distinguish. -“Henceforth your wildest utterances shall be most carefully weighed. -You forget you have already carried out your threat--by presenting -yourself here. If we get through, I promise you won’t find me -disregarding your threats again.” - -“You don’t put it _very_ nicely,” she complained. “But tell me -now--d’ye really think we’ll have to fight?” - -But apparently Richard repented his freedom of speech. “Not a bit of -it!” crushingly. “What I’m afraid of is that you will be actually and -literally bored to death.” - -And not a word more would he say, though Eveleen tried coaxing and -reproaches in turn. Indignant though she was at the time, however, -there were moments, after they had reached Qadirabad, when she began -to feel his prophecy might come true. Whatever excitement there might -be for the men, who rode daily to the Fort to discuss Lord Maryport’s -treaty with the Khans in durbar, life at the Residency was the very -acme of dulness for the woman left at home. If Eveleen had expected to -be able to resume her former pursuits, she was mistaken. She blamed -herself bitterly for not having brought a horse--difficult though it -might have been for poor Captain Franks to find room for it--for the -lack of one played into the hands of her natural enemies. Any man who -prevented, or sought to prevent, Eveleen from riding when she wished -to ride was a natural enemy, and all the members of the -Mission--soldiers and Politicals alike--were immovably united in the -determination that she should not go outside the walls. The only -exception to this rule was the permission to go out by the water-gate, -cross an uninviting tract of sand which was really part of the bed of -the river, but now dry, and thus gain access to the _Asteroid_, which -lay in a meagre trickle called a channel. But this excursion was as -unsatisfying as the ride round the garden, which was the only one -allowed her--if not quite so tantalising,--and she did not repeat it. -If she was not to sink to the lowest depths and gossip with Ketty, she -must find her interests in that dreary treaty, which seemed to be -debated for hours day after day, but never signed. Poor Colonel Bayard -might have been the Khans’ bitterest enemy, instead of their most -tried and persevering friend, by the way they treated him. His -championship of their cause--expressed indiscreetly, perhaps, to Gul -Ali and his retainers--was made an excuse, and a perpetually recurring -one, for tormenting him. Was he really in sympathy with the deposed -Chief, whose honours had been so shamefully filched from him? Oh, -well, if he said so, it must be presumed to be true, but Gul Ali had -heard rumours---- And in any case, if he was on the side of the -oppressed, why was he representing their chief adversary, the Bahadar -Jang? Would he show his friendship by getting Gul Ali replaced in his -position of supremacy, and punishing the presumptuous Shahbaz? Over -and over again, by varying paths, the discussion was led dexterously -to this point, at which the harassed emissary could only reply that he -had no power whatever to interfere with the Governor-General’s -decisions; the utmost he could do would be to urge the expediency of -modifying them. This was not at all what was wanted, and the bald -question invariably followed: If you are a friend, and yet can do -nothing to help us, why are you here? The reply that he had hoped to -make submission easier by entreating instead of imposing it was not at -all in accordance with the Khans’ idea of a friend’s duties. - -It almost seemed as though Colonel Bayard might have gone on -indefinitely presenting the treaty, and the Khans talking about it, -had not the spur been applied which the envoy had been dreading. He -had written feverish letters almost daily, entreating the General to -return to Sahar with his force--or at least to remain stationary, and -not pursue the route he had taken on leaving Sultankot, which would -bring him to the river about half-way to Qadirabad. It was the death -blow to his hopes when the news came that not only had Sir Harry -emerged safely on the river bank from the desert, but his flying -column had been joined there by the troops he had left at Bidi. The -effect on the Khans was no less marked. Their Vakils sealed that very -day the pledge which bound them to accept the treaty. - -“Did y’ever see a man look so miserable when he’d got what he’d been -fighting for for a week?” demanded Eveleen of her husband when Colonel -Bayard had brought the draft home--not at all in triumph--and laid it -up in his desk. “You’d say he was sorry they have signed, instead of -glad.” - -“I believe you. He don’t know whether to blame Sir Henry most for his -show of force, or their Highnesses for permitting themselves to be -affected by it.” - -“But sure they couldn’t have gone on hesitating for ever!” - -“He had hopes, I’m certain, of inducing the General to promise that if -they would sign the treaty, Gul Ali should get back his Turban. Of -course Sir Henry has no power to promise anything of the kind--it -rests with the Governor-General, and he will never grant it.” - -“Well, if I was poor Bayard, I’d be glad the matter was settled and -out of my hands.” - -“Pardon me--not if you were he. You would be more unhappy than ever, -because you had not succeeded in averting the misfortune. There’s a -sort of twist in his mind where his dear Khans are concerned. To him, -they and the General alike are pawns in the hand of Shahbaz, who is -the greatest villain existing, and advises all to their destruction.” - -“But sure they are all dead against Shahbaz!” - -“That’s merely another proof of the man’s cunning. Bayard has -persuaded himself that Shahbaz is so steeped in plots he can’t eat his -pillau without some ulterior object, while his poor simple brother and -nephews, beguiled by his subtlety, are innocent lambs asking to be -shorn. Lambs, indeed! much more like wolves, they look to other -people.” - -“Then you think there’s danger?” Eveleen’s eyes were sparkling. - -“I do think so, and I’ll tell you why. Perhaps it will make you more -contented to stay indoors, as you are told. The city is swarming with -Arabits, whose demeanour is as uncivil as they dare, though for the -moment they are held in check. Through some extraordinary blindness, -Bayard don’t see them--as a danger, at any rate. Not an armed man in -the streets, he writes to the General. They all have their swords and -shields--what does he expect of ’em? muskets and revolving pistols? -Their matchlocks are close at hand, I haven’t a doubt. And all our -spies bring in word of fresh bands--either concealed at a convenient -distance from the city, or pressing towards it from all quarters. -Kamal-ud-din alone, they say, has assembled ten thousand men, and is -approaching by forced marches. And here are we allowing ourselves to -be played with, while precious time--every day of which augments the -Arabit hosts--is lost!” - -“Now I wonder why wouldn’t you tell Bayard that?” asked Eveleen -curiously. - -“Do you think I haven’t?” he laughed shortly. “I try to bring the -reports to his notice, but he has no eye for ’em--too much engrossed -with the unmerited sufferings of that crew at the Fort. I wonder what -will be their next expedient for gaining time? He will allow himself -to be taken in by it, I’ll wager, through sheer remorse at having -conquered ’em so far!” - -But perhaps the Khans thought their hold on Colonel Bayard was wearing -a little thin. At any rate, their next step was taken entirely without -his assistance. When he opened his desk in the morning, that he might -take the draft treaty with him to the Fort, the treaty was -gone--without any sign of violence, or even the forcing of the lock. -In this the thieves had overreached themselves. There were only two -keys to the desk, one of which was in Colonel Bayard’s own possession, -the other in that of his Munshi. The Munshi was a Qadirabad man, and -had returned to his home there when his employer left Khemistan for -Bombay, so that the Khans had had some three months in which to exert -upon him the various methods of persuasion in which they excelled. -Arrested promptly, he was so grievously surprised and terrified that -he made a full confession. For a handsome consideration, he had -unlocked the desk in the night and turned his back for a moment, then -locked the desk again, having seen and heard nothing. That was all he -knew, but the work had all to be done again. - -For once, however, Colonel Bayard refused to take the part of his -gentle protégés. To corrupt his servant and break into his house, -that they might destroy the draft they had signed of their own free -will, was too much even for him. The treaty was gone, but in durbar -that day he took a high tone which brought the Khans to heel like -whipped dogs. They apologised piteously for the misdeed of some -unnamed retainer, who had been led away by the hope of helping his -masters to bribe the Munshi and steal and destroy the paper. They had -known nothing of the crime, they declared, and to prove it they would -set their seals the very next day to the treaty itself--not a mere -draft this time, but the whole of Lord Maryport’s requirements. Having -made this tremendous concession, it would not have been the Khans if -they had not promptly endeavoured to nullify it by demanding that Gul -Ali should have the Turban restored to him; otherwise, they said, it -was quite unnecessary to make a new treaty, since they had never -broken the old one. But Colonel Bayard was still sufficiently -disgusted and disillusioned to reply with a curt negative, and -returned with his staff to the Residency through streets ominously -filled with a sullen throng, who surged up to the very horses of the -escort, and muttered curses on the Farangis. - -When they went to the Fort the next day, there was not a man of the -Mission who did not feel doubtful whether he would ever return. The -crowds in the streets were larger and more menacing, and it was with -the utmost difficulty that a passage was forced through them. The -demeanour of the guards and attendants showed a scarcely veiled -insolence, and round the walls of the audience-chamber were ranged a -small army of wild-looking Arabits, armed to the teeth. After their -long acquaintance, the Khans ought to have known Colonel Bayard -better, for this suggestion of physical force was the one thing needed -to stiffen his temper. He refused even to enter the durbar-hall till -the additional guards were withdrawn, and declined to be placated by -the suggestion that they were there to do honour to the treaty. The -Khans were evidently flurried by his coldness, and affixed their seals -in some haste, Gul Ali only pausing to remark in heartrending tones -that he had laid his life and honour and everything he had at the feet -of the British, and they had taken it all away. Colonel Bayard’s -generous heart responded instantly to the plaint of ill-usage, and he -spoke impulsively. He could do nothing in the matter of the Turban--he -only wished he could--but he would beg Sir Henry Lennox to visit -Qadirabad and hear what the Khans had to say, in the hope that he -might accord as an act of grace what could not be given as a right. - -The effect of his hasty speech was electrical. The Khans broke into -radiant smiles, and Khair Husain modestly expressed their unworthiness -to welcome the shining presence of the Bahadar Jang. His gestures were -so emphatic as almost to seem extravagant, and Brian, by a meaning -look, directed his brother-in-law’s attention to a slight confusion -among the servants at the door. The trays of sherbet were just being -brought in, which were the signal for the conclusion of the interview, -and as far as the two men, watching without appearing to do so, could -see, they were hastily carried out again and then brought in a second -time--or possibly others substituted. What was the reason? Poison was -the first thought in the minds of both, and it seemed as though it was -also in that of Khair Husain, for in a rather marked way he drank from -his cup first, and then passed it to Colonel Bayard. The Englishman -had seen nothing of the by-play, and accepted the honour as a mere -graceful compliment, but it seemed to Richard and Brian that Khair -Husain directed an eye towards them as he drank. When they left the -audience-chamber, they were surprised to find a band of Arabit -horsemen drawn up facing their own troopers. Little Hafiz Ullah Khan, -the youngest of the princely family, who was escorting them to the -gate, explained volubly-- - -“It is those _badmashes_ outside--we cannot control them. They are -angry because the treaty is signed and my great-uncle’s wrongs have -not been redressed, and they might show rudeness. Therefore we send an -escort of our own to see you safely through the town. Would the -Bahadar Jang be likely to shed the light of his radiant countenance -upon us if he heard that his servants had eaten _gali_ [abuse] in our -streets?” - -The reasoning was very clear, but it was abundantly obvious that the -mob were prepared to use much more substantial weapons than abuse. All -down the long Bazar from the gateway of the Fort to the city gate, the -Mission had practically to fight its way. At Colonel Bayard’s earnest -entreaty, his companions succeeded in getting through without drawing -their swords, but in two or three ugly rushes they were forced to -defend themselves by laying about them with the scabbards. The -troopers of the Khemistan Horse were hard to restrain, but they found -some alleviation of their discontent in backing their horses among the -crowd, with a callous disregard of toes and shins. The Khans’ cavalry -did more talking than anything else, but the only time Richard Ambrose -had leisure to listen to them, what they said was significant--“Let -them pass. These men are nothing. Wait till the Bahadar Jang comes!” -Something suspiciously resembling a torrent of curses accompanied the -name, but it might have been directed at the crowd, whose own language -was blood-curdling. It was not until half the distance had been -covered that stones began to fly--the partially demolished house of a -man who had presumed to become unduly rich and had suffered for it -affording a supply of missiles. Then indeed the riders had a hot time, -for to the stones and iron-shod _lathis_ in the street were added -stones and curses from the roofs. Most of them received blows more or -less severe, and Richard had his cap knocked off and got a nasty gash -on the forehead. Happily Brian was in time to prevent his being -knocked off his horse, for any man who went down in that yelling, -swearing, spitting crowd would have small chance to rise again. But -the gate was nearly reached, and the Arabit escort--with the first -sign of common-sense that had distinguished them--made a semicircle -and beat back the mob while their charges were filing through the -narrow portal. Once safely outside, and dignity consulted by riding a -short way as if nothing had happened, they pulled up beside a well to -repair damages. One of the troopers of the escort had an arm broken, -and while Colonel Bayard and the surgeon were looking to him, Richard -submitted unwillingly to the ministrations of his brother-in-law, -which were necessary because the blood running down his face prevented -him from seeing. - -“I cot your eye in the durbar just now,” said Brian hastily. “Would -you say you thought what I did?” - -“I think the General has saved all our lives without knowing it.” - -“But you wouldn’t say he’d come here?” - -“I should say the Khans will have to live a good bit longer before -they catch _that_ old weasel asleep.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN-- - -/After/ that exciting ride home, profound peace reigned about the -Residency for a whole day, as though the Khans wished to give time for -the impression to sink in. Then their Vakils arrived again, in a high -state of alarm, with which they were desperately anxious to infect the -British. The Khans were absolutely powerless to restrain the Arabits, -they said--as Colonel Bayard had had some slight proof already. Their -feelings were outraged by the signing of the treaty, and they would -only accept it on the condition that Gul Ali was at once acknowledged -again as holder of the Turban, and that Sir Henry’s troops, which had -advanced steadily down the river bank till they were now within a few -marches of the capital, should be instantly withdrawn. Otherwise, the -ambassador would do well to surrender the treaty and depart, for the -Khans could not protect him. To the mingled wrath and despair of his -officers, the threatened loss of the treaty--which had been so hard to -win--induced Colonel Bayard to write urging Sir Harry not merely to -come to Qadirabad and re-establish Gul Ali on the _masnad_, but to -withdraw his army into the desert--as far as the remote fortress of -Khangarh, near the British border,--that his peaceful intentions might -be made thoroughly clear. He told the Vakils what he had written, -pointing out that it would have no effect unless the Khans could keep -the Arabits under control, and they accepted the warning and withdrew -with all gravity, though their errand must have seemed to them -successful to the point of absurdity. - -The next day Eveleen was in the garden--in the uncomfortable state -popularly described as finding herself at a loose end. She had tried -to nurse Richard, but Richard as an invalid was neither grateful nor -gracious. She wanted to fuss over him, and he ruthlessly declined to -be fussed over. He did not wish to be read to--perhaps this was not -surprising, since the only available reading consisted of back numbers -of various Bombay papers, singing the praises of Colonel Bayard and -patronising the General’s wisdom in perceiving in him the only man to -deal with the situation,--he did not wish to be talked to or otherwise -amused; all he asked was to be let alone and allowed to smoke in -peace. Thereupon Eveleen naturally went off in a huff--thereby, as she -realised presently with disgust, assuring him precisely the selfish -tranquillity he craved--and established herself in a shady spot, where -a masonry platform had been built under the shelter of two or three -large trees, to recover her equanimity. It was unfortunate for this -purpose that her position brought her in view of her old antagonist -the gardener, who had cheerfully ascribed the lack of garden produce -to the Beebee’s interference at the beginning of the cold weather. -Nevertheless, after the manner of his kind, he was able to supply -vegetables--at a price,--and Eveleen raged in vain when he exhibited -blandly his empty garden-beds. She was quite sure that he had sold -everything they contained, and was now suborning some other gardener -to do the same, though it was not quite clear who in Qadirabad would -be likely to have a taste for European vegetables. Perhaps it was Tom -Carthew, she thought, and wondered idly how he was getting on in his -uncomfortable, half-and-half, secretive life. - -As so often happens, the thought was followed at no great distance by -the appearance of its object, though Eveleen did not perceive this at -first. What she saw from her point of vantage was an interested group -of women and children near the stables, gathered round a man who -seemed to be selling something. It was most probably sweets, she -thought, and remembering that she had not yet given the people in the -compound the treat which was their due after her long absence, she -told Ketty to fetch the man. It was altogether beneath Ketty’s dignity -to enter the domains of the syce-folk, but there was a servant close -at hand, specially detailed by Colonel Bayard to watch over the safety -of her Madam-sahib, and she despatched him on the errand. It was -rather a disappointment to find that the pedlar was not selling -sweets, but glass bangles--designed for what seemed impossibly slender -wrists--strung on rods according to size. Still, these would please -the women, at any rate, and she sent Ketty to the house for her purse -while she made her selection. To her astonishment, the moment the ayah -was out of hearing, the pedlar spoke in English--low and hastily. - -“Don’t look at me, Miss Evie; I’m risking my life to be here, but it’s -to save yours. What was the Major thinkin’ of to bring you with him at -a time like this?” - -“He didn’t bring me; I came,” returned Eveleen with dignity. “Now why -would you be risking your life, Tom Carthew?” - -“Because they had it all ready to murder the Colonel and the gentlemen -two days ago, and though they were put off it then they mean to do it -now. You tell the Colonel, ma’am, not to trust Khair Husain Khan. I’ll -tell you how he’ll know what the rascal’s up to. He’ll come and offer -to post a guard of his servants to protect this place--and if you -accept, the guard will murder you all in your beds.” - -“Now I wonder will the Colonel believe it?” mused Eveleen, her heart -beating a little faster than usual. - -“He’d better. Why, ma’am, it was touch and go t’other day. The Khans -had made up their minds to cut up the Colonel into little pieces, -because he pretended to be their friend and was deceivin’ ’em. Then -when he made ’em send away the guards, they had the sherbet ready to -poison him--and they’d have done it too, but for what he let drop -about bringing the General here. They are fair set on gettin’ hold of -the General, and it won’t be cuttin’ into little bits for him. They’ve -sworn to put a cord through his nose and drag him round the city at -the tail of young Hafiz Ullah’s horse, for the people to see, and -after that--well, they call him Satan’s brother after his getting to -Sultankot as he did, never runnin’ across any of the bands that was -looking for him.” - -“I wonder now, did they look very hard?” There must be no showing the -white feather, though Eveleen’s hands felt clammy, and her thoughtful -voice was a little shaky. - -“They say they did, anyhow. Well, you can guess what they think is the -proper way to treat the devil. But will the General be coming, ma’am?” - -“I’d say he would not.” Relentless cross-examining of Richard and -Brian had convinced Eveleen of this. “But sure the Khans will do -nothing till he has written to say so?” - -“You might have said that yesterday, but something has happened this -morning to change their minds. There was a lot of Bharri chiefs on -their way here, and they came slap up against the General’s army. -Whether it was just brag, or they wanted to pick a quarrel, I don’t -know, but they made to ride straight through the camp of the Khemistan -Horse, and got taken prisoners. When the news came in, all the Khans -cried out at once that it was war now, and the General wouldn’t come. -That’s all I know.” His eyes were on the approaching form of Ketty, -and he began to rearrange his wares. - -“No, but tell me quickly, what do they mean to do?” urged Eveleen. - -“I’ve told you what they mean to do to the General. For his army, they -swear they have men enough to drive it into the river, without drawin’ -a sword--just pushing. Then cut the throats of every English man, -woman, and child left in Khemistan. That’s what they mean to do.” - -“But you can’t stay with them! Come here to us.” - -“No, ma’am, I’ve made my bed and I must lie on it. Make the Beebee -understand that I am a poor man, and cannot possibly sell at the price -she offers,” he went on whiningly as Ketty came up. “Why must I be -ruined because I cannot afford a shop in the Bazar?” - -The invitation to bargain roused Ketty’s keenest instincts. -Metaphorically she shouldered her mistress out of the fray, and fell -upon the unhappy bangle-seller tooth and nail. She brought him down -from annas to pice, and then pice by pice until he declared -truly--though she naturally thought it was falsely--that his wares had -cost him more to buy. Then she suddenly reflected that the -Madam-sahib’s wealth and importance would suffer in the estimation of -the servant people if she was known to drive too keen a bargain, and -with a royal air accepted on her behalf his last offer, informing him -unkindly that it was in consideration of his obvious wretchedness. -Eveleen, standing by and fuming, had to curb her impatience still -further and bid the pedlar follow her to a spot commanding a nearer -view of the stables, whence she watched him fitting the bangles to the -arms of the recipients, and received their grateful salams, and then -only was she free to return to the house, and burst in upon Richard -with her news. It was just as well he was not the serious invalid she -had wished to make him, for she could not possibly have kept her story -in any longer, and he had to remind her--as soon as he was able to -understand what she was driving at--that the source of the warning -must remain a secret. This had not occurred to her, and she was so -much shocked at her own carelessness that she consented--though sorely -against the grain--to postpone warning Colonel Bayard until he came of -his own accord to smoke a cigar with Richard. To send for him would -have aroused suspicion as readily as to go to speak to him in his -office and ask that the native clerks might be sent out of hearing, -and the delay had also the advantage of allowing Tom Carthew time to -get back to the city before suspicion could be aroused. - -But it was very hard to wait, and when Colonel Bayard came at last, -his reception of the great news was disappointing in the extreme. At -first it seemed as if he would not believe it at all. - -“There’s no likelihood whatever of Khair Husain’s offering to send -troops to protect the Agency,” he said. “It would be a gross insult, -and he wouldn’t dream of it.” - -“But why should the Daroga suggest such a thing unless it had been -discussed?” asked Richard, for his wife was too much taken aback to -remonstrate. - -“The man wants to safeguard his own neck, of course. He thinks, very -naturally, that Sir Henry is determined to destroy the Khans, and is -afraid he will suffer for being mixed up with them. So he tries to -establish a claim on our gratitude in advance by making up this tale.” - -“But sure he was risking his life by coming to warn us!” cried -Eveleen, with flashing eyes. “Would you take no notice of what he -said?” - -“Happily,” said Richard, in his coolest tones, “we shall be able to -test his truthfulness very shortly. If Khair Husain does offer to send -troops, the warning is confirmed.” - -“But if Bayard has made up his mind not to take it?” Eveleen spoke -before Colonel Bayard could. He raised his hand in protest. - -“Not made up my mind, ma’am--you’re mistaken there. I should hardly -feel justified in ignoring such a warning--yet to refuse the offer -would be a precious strong step to take. Khair Husain would naturally -feel himself ill-used.” - -“But if you accepted it, we would _be_ ill-used,” said Eveleen -triumphantly. “Would you really like that better? And didn’t you -yourself just this minute say the offer would be an insult?” - -“My dear Richard, there was a great casuist lost in Mrs Ambrose.” -Colonel Bayard managed to keep his indulgent air, though Eveleen felt, -and looked, as though she would like to box his ears. “And what, -ma’am”--kindly--“would be your idea of the proper procedure when the -offer had been refused?” - -“Of course, I’d like greatly to be in a real fight,” said Eveleen -regretfully. “But”--summoning all the forces of duty and self-denial -to her aid--“I know you gentlemen will all cry out with one voice -that’s my bloodthirsty nonsense.” Deeply shocked, Colonel Bayard -negatived the suggestion with a deprecating hand. “Ah, don’t I know -it? So I’ll be moderate and sensible, and only say I suppose we ought -all get up the river again in the _Asteroid_.” - -“And betray my trust here?” It was his turn to triumph. “No, ma’am, I -came to Qadirabad by the General’s orders”--he disregarded a sound as -of dissent from Richard,--“and here I stay until either I am turned -out or Sir Henry sends me orders to leave. But my first duty--Ambrose, -I know you will be with me in this--is to assure the safety of the -lady who has laboured so pluckily to save our lives, as she believes. -I will send word to Franks that Mrs Ambrose will sleep on board -to-night.” - -“You think there’ll be a fight, and you won’t let me be in it?” Her -undisguised anguish and dismay brought back Colonel Bayard’s sunny -smile. - -“Precisely!” he said, the last vestige of his ill-humour vanishing. -“Why, what curs you must think us, ma’am, to be willing to expose you -to a peril against which you have yourself warned us!” - -Richard laughed--he could not help it--and Eveleen glared from one to -the other. “I’ll never speak a word to either of y’again--unless I -have to!” she declared wrathfully, and swept majestically from the -room. For the rest of the day she refused to be comforted or placated, -and made Richard very angry--because he felt she was making him -ridiculous--by declining to address him directly, and sending him -messages through Ketty, though they were on the same verandah. -Therefore he triumphed in his turn when, after being summoned to be -present when Colonel Bayard received a Vakil from Khair Husain Khan, -he was able to meet her again with a fine air of mystery. - -“Something very queer about this----” shaking his head solemnly as he -sat down. “Giving warning is one thing, but playing the enemy’s -game----! Now why should she----?” - -“Who are you talking about?” demanded Eveleen quickly. He ignored the -question. - -“To offer precisely similar advice! Can she be in league with their -Highnesses? Yet how communicate with ’em? Something strange here----” - -“Major Ambrose, are you talking about me?” Eveleen had flown to the -side of his chair, and was shaking him. - -“My dear, I thought I was an invalid?” meekly. “May I not speak of -you, if it’s forbidden to speak to you?” - -“Ah, then, don’t be such a tease! What’s it all about?” - -“Does it flatter you to know that Khair Husain thinks precisely as you -do? The Vakil advised Bayard most earnestly to be off by water at once -if he would not accept the guard of troops, for the Khans can’t -restrain the Arabits any longer.” - -“It’s flattered I am, indeed! But I won’t be if Bayard took his advice -when he wouldn’t take mine.” - -“Don’t be afraid. He swore he wouldn’t budge an inch nor post an extra -sentry--told ’em to do their worst, in fact. So you are likely to -enjoy your wish and see a fight.” - -“I never said I’d like to see one,” indignantly. “I said I wanted to -be in it!” - -“Well, seeing it is the next best thing, surely?” But Eveleen did not -think so. - -“If I’d known I would be punished for saving all our lives, I wouldn’t -have done it,” she said tragically to Brian as they walked down to the -river after dinner. It was thought better for her to make her -unwilling exit in the dark, lest hostile watchers, seeing it, should -interpret it as a sign of fear. - -“Be aisy, then,” returned Brian. “You couldn’t have kept it in.” - -“Couldn’t--eh? What are y’after now?” - -“You had to give the warning, I tell you. You couldn’t have held your -tongue, if it was to save all our lives, and ’twas just the opposite -in this case.” - -“D’ye tell me I couldn’t hold my tongue if ’twas necessary? A fine -brother y’are--to insult your own sister!” - -“We’ll consult Ambrose, if you like. Will you say he wouldn’t agree -with me?” - -“Of course he would. Gentlemen always agree with one another.” - -“Well, you wouldn’t have him agree with you, when all his experience -went the other way, would you?” - -“Wr-r-r-retch!” said Eveleen, with such a terrific rolling of her -_r_’s that Richard turned round and asked if she couldn’t get a few -more in. She disdained to reply, and happily at this moment they -reached the sandbank to which the _Asteroid_ was moored, and were met -at the foot of the gangway by Captain Franks in a high state of -pleasurable excitement. - -“Welcome on board, ma’am! I have good news for you, sir----” to -Colonel Bayard. “There! d’ye hear that?” - -“A steamer’s whistle?” in astonishment. - -“Precisely, sir--the whistle of the _Nebula_, no less, with the Light -Company of Her Majesty’s --th on board, sent off post-haste by Sir -Henry, as soon as he saw things were getting risky here.” - -“A welcome reinforcement, indeed!” said Colonel Bayard heartily. “We -must see that the news gets to the Khans at once. They will find it -easy enough to restrain the Arabits now. But how did you hear of this, -captain?” - -“Why, sir, finding the river so low, Captain Warner was afraid of -running aground in the dark, so he sent his mate and two men in the -dinghy to find us and see where the channels were, and I sent my mate -back to pilot ’em in.” - -“Well done. We must get ’em ashore at once--make a regular _tamasha_ -of it, so that the spies in the bazar may take exaggerated reports to -the Fort. This is an enormous relief to my mind.” - -“And incidentally to mine,” remarked Richard to Brian, as Colonel -Bayard handed Eveleen up the gangway to the deck, whither Captain -Franks preceded them to receive her properly. “Has it struck you that -we three become civilians from the moment Montgomery and his fellows -arrive?” - -“D’ye tell me that? Ah, I see it! The Colonel is a mere Political, you -and I nothing but Staff--ornamental but powerless. Senior officer in -command of European troops takes charge. What a do!” - -“Better restrain your joy a bit. We don’t want the notion to occur to -Bayard, or he’ll order the _Nebula_ to stand off till daylight, by -which time----” - -“We’ll be smashed entirely,” supplied Brian. “I believe you, my boy! -Whereas if the Khans hear large reinforcements have arrived in the -night, they’ll wait till morning to attack, so as to get a good look -at ’em first.” - -With much shrieking of whistles and a lavish display of lights, the -_Nebula_ was welcomed to her anchorage, and that the effect was not -wasted was clear from the array of villagers, roused from their beds -by the noise, who lined the bank above the Agency and watched the -landing with awed and not altogether pleasurable interest. Brian -pointed them out to Richard with a grin. - -“Choused--eh?” responded Richard. “Every man of ’em went to bed -expecting to have the looting of the place in the morning, no doubt. -To see seventy-five Europeans, when you expected only to have thirty -dismounted sowars to deal with, must give you a bit of a shock.” - -Brian nudged his elbow. “D’ye hear what Montgomery’s saying? We ain’t -out of the wood yet.” - -“You are well supplied with ammunition, I trust, Colonel?” the --th -Captain was asking. “We came off in such a hurry that half-way here I -found to my annoyance we have nothing but the ten rounds apiece in the -men’s pouches.” - -“Well, we could not stand a prolonged siege, certainly,” laughed -Colonel Bayard, “but that will matter less, as I am convinced we shall -not now have to fight at all.” - -But Colonel Bayard was wrong. Whether the Arabits were really beyond -their masters’ control, or whether the spies in the village just -outside the Agency wall had gauged the extent of the reinforcement and -adjudged it negligible, morning light showed that the place was -surrounded, though the various bodies of horse and foot whose presence -could be distinguished betrayed no indecent alacrity to come out into -the open or approach too near. There was nothing in the nature of a -surprise, for Captain Montgomery lacked Colonel Bayard’s pathetic -faith in the Khans, and even a night attack would have found the -garrison prepared. Unfortunately there was no time now to take the -precautionary measures which should have been put in hand before. Save -on the side of the river, assailants might find cover in every -direction almost up to the walls, and at two points the compound was -actually commanded from without--by the native village which had grown -up as a sort of adjunct to the stables, and on the opposite side by a -house forming a kind of outpost, where the doctor had formerly lived, -and which was too much detached to be occupied effectively by so small -a garrison. Reluctantly Montgomery dismissed the idea of blowing it -up, since the powder could not be spared, and left it outside the line -of the defences. The two strong points were the Residency itself and a -range of office buildings, high and flat-roofed, which had fortunately -been placed so as to command both the village and the all-important -landing-stage. Montgomery observed caustically that it was quite -impossible Colonel Bayard could have put it there deliberately, so -that its defensive value was a happy accident. From it communication -could be maintained with the steamers by means of flag signalling, and -thus it was that Eveleen was able to keep in touch with the events of -that long morning from the shelter contrived for her close under one -of the paddle-boxes. The _Asteroid_ was a most peaceful craft, since -her builders had evidently considered bulwarks unnecessary for river -work, and her flush deck afforded no protection whatever to any one -upon it. She mounted a twelve-pounder gun, for which a breastwork had -been built up forward of boxes and cases of all sorts, and a similar -wall was erected about Eveleen and Ketty, outside which they were -forbidden to stir. Since the paddle-box cut off all view of the shore, -Eveleen insisted on having one look before she was built up in her -cell; but there was not much to see, even from the top, since the -lowness of the river left the Residency on a kind of mud cliff -considerably above the vessel. But she could see little puffy clouds -of smoke, rising and dissipating themselves slowly in the morning sky, -and followed by reports--more or less loud as they came from the heavy -matchlocks of the enemy, or the muskets which the --th were firing -through the loopholes they had cut in the mud wall with their -bayonets. On the right the reports sounded more distant, but almost -continuous--a sort of perpetual popping; but on the left shot answered -shot, as the enemy fired from cover among the village houses, and the -European marksmen replied from the office roof. Captain Franks hurried -her down, refusing to let her stay another moment, but she extracted -from him that the attack on the right was what he feared most, owing -to the expenditure of ammunition necessary to keep down the fire from -the Doctor’s House. He did not tell her, but there was another danger -at this point, in the shape of a nullah which formed a kind of covered -way right up to the wall, and which could be enfiladed only from the -Doctor’s House, so that a body of resolute men might assault with but -little fear of loss. It was noticeable, however, that the enemy, in -spite of their enormous superiority in numbers, betrayed no desire -whatever to come to close quarters, seeming satisfied with obliging -the besieged to expend their ammunition--largely wasted, of course, -owing to the ample cover around. The firing had gone on for close upon -three hours, and Eveleen, stifling in her nook among the boxes, had -assured Captain Franks piteously several times that she would rather -be shot than cooked, when a new sound, making itself heard in a -momentary lull, caused the Captain to prick up his ears--a sound of -rumbling and clanking. - -“Guns, or I’m a Dutchman!” he said to himself, and noticed how the -signalman--who but the moment before had been assuring him cheerfully -that there were masses of the enemy in the village, but they durst not -leave cover; that the orchard was full of them, but not one could even -lift up his head to look over the wall; that the three men guarding -the gate into the bazar from the stables had not even had to fire a -shot--stiffened up suddenly and listened. Captain Franks listened too. -Where would the guns get to work--from the bazar square, whence they -could not merely knock the defences to pieces, but cut off the retreat -of the besieged? But no, the enemy were taking no risks, and the old -sailor was conscious of a kind of vicarious shame on their behalf as -he realised that they would not face the fire from the office roof. -The rumbling and clanking continued along the road that flanked the -landward wall of the compound, and then seemed to drop. “The nullah!” -said Captain Franks, and turned to decipher the signals which were -appealing urgently for his attention. - -“‘To fall back from the front of the compound on the Residency, and -withdraw in an hour, when baggage has been evacuated.’ So we cut our -stick!” said Captain Franks. “What now? ‘Captain Delany will proceed -on board _Nebula_, and endeavour to rake nullah.’ Easier said than -done, if you ask me!” But he passed on the signal to his subordinate, -and presently Brian and his orderly ran down the path and across the -sandbanks. Once they were on board, the _Nebula_ dropped down a little -way till she was level with the nullah, and her people passed a -strenuous hour in trying to give their pop-gun sufficient elevation -for its shots to clear the cliff and drop in upon the enemy guns. No -very marked effect seemed to be produced--certainly there was no -direct hit,--but that a certain moral suasion was exercised seemed -clear from the fact that they did not open fire. Meanwhile, the -baggage-parties were busy as ants upon the cliff path and the hard -sands. Horses came down--to be put on board the flat-bottomed boat by -which they had come,--wounded men, to be made as comfortable as -possible on the shadeless deck, with the sun blazing down upon them, -for the only alternative was the oven-like depths below. Then came the -servants, to huddle together wherever they could find room, -whitey-brown with fear, some chattering spasmodically, some awestruck -into silence. As the baggage began to arrive--all sorts of things, of -all shapes and sizes,--there was work to be done, and Captain Franks -and his mate fell upon the servants with voice and threatening -fist--feebly cheered by the delighted wounded--until they roused -themselves sufficiently to help in piling packages to serve as a -bulwark. Then came a slow-moving party bearing still burdens -shoulder-high, and several rigid forms were laid reverently on the -deck forward, and covered with a tarpaulin. - -As if this was a signal, the sound of a bugle came from the Agency--a -bugle which, though she had been warned to expect it, made Eveleen -shrink and shiver in her shelter, for it sounded the Retreat. Like a -reply to it came a burst of heavy firing, which was so alarming that -she was thankful when Captain Franks shouted down to her, “Only -covering the retreat on the office, ma’am!” Presently he added, -“They’re marching down from the water-gate now. Soon have ’em all safe -on board!” Almost as he spoke the noise of rumbling and clanking began -again, and he was black in the face before he could make her hear. -“They’ve found out how we’ve diddled ’em. S’pose they’ll bring the -guns round this way now.” - -Before he had finished, Eveleen had pushed down part of her barricade -and climbed over the rest, and was running up the ladder to his side. -In ordinary circumstances he would have felt bound to rebuke her, but -he was too busy watching the last stages of the retreat--the troops -arriving section by section at the water-gate and marching down the -path, and last of all, the defenders of the office dropping from the -back windows and covering the rear as skirmishers. Even now the enemy -hesitated to press them closely, and one or two round shot from the -_Asteroid_ quite dispelled any thought of interfering with the march -across the sandbanks; but the rumbling and clanking was coming closer -again, and Captain Franks hailed Colonel Bayard with some anxiety. - -“Get on board as quick as you can, sir, if you please! There ain’t no -time for being solemn. We’ve got the flat to pick up yet, and those -guns will have the range in a minute or two. _Nebula_, ahoy! Where do -you think you’re coming to?” for the smaller steamer had left her now -useless station opposite the nullah, and was forging up towards the -_Asteroid_. Captain Warner indicated by a thumb Brian on the bridge -beside him. - -“Why, to help in the fight, of course!” shouted that young man -brightly. “We’ve got a gun too, have we not?” - -“Yes, but you ain’t going to use it,” returned Captain Franks, losing -all sight of the fact that military authority was now paramount. -“Cap’en Warner”--they were now so close that he had not even to use -his speaking-trumpet--“you know that wood-pile you passed three miles -up? If the enemy think of that, we’re gone geese! Full steam ahead and -stand by to protect it. If there’s nobody there, you get on board -every stick you can carry--enough for us as well as yourselves.” - -“Don’t go, captain,” said Brian encouragingly. “He’s trying to do you -out of the fight. Sure I’ll stand by you.” - -“You’ll be coming on board here in irons as a mutineer in another two -minutes, young gentleman,” returned Captain Franks savagely. “Cap’en -Warner, who’s senior skipper of this flotilla? You have your orders.” - -“Aye, aye, Cap’en Franks!” responded Captain Warner peaceably. “You -coming with us, sir?” - -“Not a bit of it!” said Brian, and jumped from one ship to the other -as the _Nebula_ drew away. He landed neatly on the paddle-box, but his -orderly, following as in duty bound, fell into the water, and had to -be rescued with ropes by the Irish soldiers, who were enjoying -themselves hugely. Hauling him up on deck meant displacing the bulwark -of boxes, which brought Captain Franks down from the bridge in wrath -to insist upon its being put back instantly, in which he was backed by -Captain Montgomery as soon as he understood what had to be done next. -The flat-bottomed boat containing the horses drew considerably less -water than the steamer, and lay farther up the little creek in the -sand, so that the _Asteroid_ had to back towards her for the tow-rope -to be attached, and go ahead again to tow her out. While this -manœuvre was going on, the twelve-pounder was necessarily out of -action, and the enemy, waxing bold, made their appearance in the dry -bed of the river, as though resolved to emulate the unique feat of the -French in the Texel, and capture a vessel by means of cavalry. But the -European soldiers, lying down behind the boxes, fired through the -openings between them, and though the small remainder of precious -ammunition was woefully diminished, the enemy’s courage soon -evaporated. - -The danger was not over yet, however. The steamer was laden almost to -the water’s edge, and the flat overcrowded and difficult to move. -Twice she ran aground, and once the tow-rope broke, while the -resourceful enemy added to the confusion by opening fire from the -three guns he had by this time mounted under the trees by the -water-gate. Musketry was of no avail at such a distance, and the -_Asteroid_ drew off again and brought her gun to bear, while the mate -led a party of volunteers to the rescue of the flat. Three times was -she brought a little way in triumph, and three times was the triumph -checked, but at last she was got out into the stream, while the -_Asteroid_ kept down the fire of the prudent gunners at the gate. The -course of the river took the steamer and her unwieldy consort nearer -the shore again as they moved off, and they were assailed not only by -the guns, but by musketry fire from matchlockmen posted in every patch -of cover. Every one had to lie flat on the deck save Captain Franks, -who seemed to bear a charmed life as he conned his ship through the -winding channel. So obvious were the dangers of the navigation that -the enemy on the bank kept up with the steamer for two miles, in the -earnest hope of seeing her run aground, when they could have poured -down on the sands and stormed her. But she failed to fulfil their -expectation, and drew up at length level with the _Nebula_, placidly -taking in logs from a colossal stack on the opposite bank till she -looked like a floating wood-pile. They anchored for the night side by -side. - -“And we never had a fight at all, at all!” said Brian. - -“A pretty fair imitation of one,” said Richard. “You might let your -sister please herself with the belief that she has seen a fight at -last.” - -“_Seen_ it?” demanded Eveleen tragically. “Not the least taste of it -did I see--except puffs of smoke. Would you call it seeing to be at -the bottom of a well, and hear all sorts of things going on without -knowing what they were?” - -“Never mind, Mrs Ambrose,” said Montgomery. “You can always say you -were present at a fight, anyhow. Not that the famous Arabits put up -much of a fight, though.” - -“No, indeed,” said Colonel Bayard sadly. “Why should they? They had no -desire to fight. They were driven to it.” - -“You wouldn’t say they’d not have been uncommon glad to kill us, if it -could have been done without fighting, Colonel?” put in Brian slily. -Colonel Bayard took him up sharply. - -“Nothing of the kind. Why should they wish to kill us? It was a -horrible mistake, and I could have prevented it all if the General had -given me a free hand!” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - --INTO THE FIRE. - -/Awakened/ at sunrise by the festive sound of a steam-whistle, the -fugitives from the Agency turned out to view the approach of a vessel -identified by Captain Franks as the _Galaxy_. European soldiers -clustered on her deck, and an officer waved greetings from the -paddle-box. As the steamers neared one another, Eveleen recognised him -as her old enemy Captain Crosse. - -“Too late, I see!” he shouted lugubriously. “We start off _ek dum_ to -rescue you, and you’ve done the rescuing yourselves!” - -“Why, what have you got on board?” asked Colonel Bayard. - -“Fifty men and ten thousand rounds of ammunition, colonel--and -despatches. You were to hold on until the General came to relieve -you.” - -“To relieve me? Sir Henry is close at hand, then?” - -“Three hours’ steaming--certainly no more. We should have met you -sooner if we could have got on in the dark. Here’s the General’s -letter.” He held it out, and Brian, making a long arm from the -_Asteroid’s_ paddle-box, took it from him. - -“Thanks. Come to breakfast, won’t you?” said Colonel Bayard shortly, -and withdrew a pace or two--there was no possible privacy in the -crowded ship--to read the despatch. Presently he beckoned to Richard. - -“He is bent on fighting,” he said with a sigh. “Look here--this was -written after receiving mine sent after our return from the durbar, -when I said I feared we might be besieged, and asked for supplies. You -see he bids me point-blank break off negotiations, and make no further -efforts for peace.” - -“Possibly he thought you had done all that could be done in that -line----” with great seriousness. “That was the letter in which you -urged him to send away the army and come to Qadirabad himself--eh?” - -“Yes, I urged it most strongly. And what does he do? Destroys the last -hope of accommodation--orders me to leave the Agency at once and -rejoin him, or if that’s impossible, put up a good defence and wait -for him there.” - -“But what else could he have done?” asked Richard curiously. - -“Waited--shown some patience, some forbearance, instead of hurrying -things like this. The old man knows nothing of Oriental ways--that’s -the sole excuse for him.” - -“I shall begin to think the General ain’t so far wrong in his estimate -of old Indians, when he says they have got more Oriental than the -Orientals themselves!” grumbled Richard to himself as Colonel Bayard -turned away from him abruptly to greet Captain Crosse as he came on -board. - -“And I have a special message for Mrs Ambrose,” the visitor was -saying. “Sir Henry was highly displeased when he heard where she was, -and is sharpening his tongue to give her the scolding she deserves.” - -“Sharpening his tongue, is it?” cried Eveleen in high scorn. “Sure -it’s hardening his heart he means--or trying to.” - -“Have it your own way, ma’am,” said Captain Crosse pacifically. “No -doubt the General will argue it out with you, but I know better.” - -That the General was quite ready to deal with every one as he or she -deserved was made plain when the steamers arrived level with his camp. -It lay some little distance from the river, but he had sent horses to -be ready for them, and as Colonel Bayard and his party rode on ahead -of the troops, an approaching cloud of dust showed that he was -welcoming them in person. In his usual breakneck style he dashed up -with his staff, and shook hands all round with his left hand, for his -right arm was in a sling. - -“Ah, Mrs Ambrose! anywhere else I should have been proud to see you. -Glad you’re safe, Bayard. You have made a fine defence, sir--I shall -have much pleasure in reporting it in the proper quarter. A little bit -out of conceit with the Khans now--eh? Three times in one day you -wrote to me they hadn’t an armed man in Qadirabad save their own -servants, and two days later they were besieging you with seven or -eight thousand troops!” - -“You are better informed than I, General.” Colonel Bayard spoke -somewhat stiffly. “How you have arrived at that exact figure----” - -“Spies, man, spies! Not being glued to steamers, they came on while -you were all snoozing sweetly in the night, though they had to skirt -round to flank the _shikargahs_, which you must have passed in happy -innocence that a whole army was concealed there. I was taking their -lowest estimate. What do you make the numbers, then--eh?” - -“Anything up to eighteen thousand men, General, from what we saw when -they tried to harass us from the bank.” - -“H’m. My information suggests more than that. By the seven thousand I -meant those only who beset the Residency. And in a nasty resolute -temper--eh? You believe that now?” - -“For the moment, nothing more. Believe me, their heart ain’t in it. If -you could have met their Highnesses face to face----” - -“Heavens, man! if I had taken your advice, the army would still be -three days’ march away at least, and my reinforcement could never have -reached you in time.” - -“A reinforcement without ammunition, General!” - -“My orders were that they should have sixty rounds apiece, but they -were in such a hurry to be off they never took ’em.” - -“Ah, with that sixty rounds we could have held out till you came. You, -General--not the army. Your presence would have removed all -difficulties.” - -“Yes, and my head from my shoulders--as I said when I got your letter. -What! you won’t believe a word against your dear gentle Khans, even -now? D’ye know anything of an unfortunate white man--an American, so -they tell me--called Thomas, who commanded their artillery?” - -“Why, yes, General. We owe him much gratitude----” - -“Well, you’ll never have the chance of repaying him in this world. -Faced with the order to fire on persons of his own colour, he refused, -and they cut off his nose and ears, and killed him.” - -“And ’twas his warning saved all our lives!” cried Eveleen wildly. -“Oh, poor Tom Carthew, poor poor Tom! And that was the man”--she faced -round suddenly on her husband--“you wanted to forbid me to speak to!” - -“I suppose there’s no doubt, sir----?” asked Richard. - -“None whatever, I fear. The spy hesitated to tell me--because, so -Munshi said, he didn’t like to bring such news about a sahib. I told -him to say the only thing it would make me angry to hear would be that -the Sahib had stooped to dishonour, and I gave the spy ten rupees when -he had revealed the sad yet glorious truth. Not much doubt there. A -word with you, Ambrose, if you please.” - -For once Colonel Bayard had no defence to offer of the Khans’ action, -and he dropped behind with Eveleen, pretending, with his usual -kindness, not to notice the tears she was unable to conceal, while -Richard took his place beside Sir Harry. The old soldier was -perturbed. - -“Is Bayard wilfully blind, or is he mad?” he demanded wrathfully as -they drew ahead. “I have been mistaken in the man. Nothing but -massacre will open his eyes.” - -“I think he has been trying to force himself to retain confidence in -the Khans, sir; but surely his eyes must be opened now! Did you hear -that the attack on the Agency was directed by Khair Husain Khan, who -had offered the day before to bring his troops to protect us? I saw -him plainly with my telescope, leading his army industriously from the -rear.” - -The General laughed--a short hard laugh. “Well, they have come to the -end of their tricks and evasions now! At nine to-morrow morning I lead -my gallant troops against ’em.” - -“Have you stipulated with the Khans that they shall await your -onslaught, General?” - -Sir Harry laughed again. “I think they will--I trust they will. Were -their numbers double the eighteen thousand Bayard gives ’em, I would -still advance, but they may well consider eighteen thousand fairly -matched against two. They are awaiting us at Mahighar. We march at -dawn, and they won’t find us backward in keeping the appointment.” - -“Do you propose to attack ’em in front, sir?” - -“I do. Look at this: I had the choice of two roads. By marching inland -I might have come on ’em from the rear and turned their right flank, -penning ’em up with their backs to the river. But if my plans -miscarried, I in my turn should run the risk of being dispersed and -cut off in detail, since I should have nothing behind me but the -desert. True, if successful, I might annihilate ’em, but I ain’t a -lover of bloodshed, though Bayard believes me one. Whereas, coming at -’em straight in front, if I am beat back I retreat on the river, where -are my steamers, and where I entrench myself while waiting for the -reinforcements I have ordered down from Sahar. Why don’t I wait for -’em? you’ll say. Because I have enough men to beat the Khans with, and -I won’t rob my troops of their glory by bringing in others to share -it.” - -“’Pon my honour, General”--Richard spoke with unwonted enthusiasm--“I -believe you’ll find ’em answer your expectations.” - -“I know I shall. There ain’t a regiment in Her Majesty’s Army I would -rather have with me than my dear uproarious Irish boys--as tumultuous -in peace as they are terrible in fight. But what I wished to ask you -was about Mrs Ambrose. Do you prefer her to return on board the -_Asteroid_ when we march, or to take the chances of the battle with -us?” - -“That must be as you decide, General.” - -“Nay, I beg of you to make the choice. In Spain no one would have felt -the least surprise at her remaining with you, but we do things -differently nowadays.” - -“Honestly, sir, I should infinitely prefer to leave her in the charge -of Mr Franks, but I can’t flatter myself she would remain there unless -she chose.” - -“Precisely. And to embark on adventures of her own selection in a -country swarming with enemies might entail consequences that would -load us with remorse for the rest of our days--and none more than -myself. She shall accompany you and the force, but I will give her a -little good advice first.” - -“May I say, General, how deeply I deplore that Mrs Ambrose’s conduct -should require to engage your attention at such a moment?” - -“Nonsense, my good fellow! I have often thought you don’t half -appreciate your good fortune in finding yourself linked to a lady -happily endowed with perennial youth. Now don’t look for a nasty -meaning when I intend a compliment of a sort, but do me the favour to -find out whether Bayard has any more maggots in his brain.” - -This meant that Eveleen became Sir Henry’s companion. She did so with -a certain diffidence, for it had begun to dawn upon her that her -presence was not precisely welcome. Possibly Captain Crosse had aided -her to make the discovery by a muttered remark about charming ladies -who _would_ poke their noses in where they weren’t wanted. He had said -from the first that European women had no business in Khemistan, she -might remember? She did remember, but would not flatter him by -acknowledging it, nor take any notice now when he murmured what -sounded like “something like a wigging!” The news of Tom Carthew’s -death had subdued her a good deal, so that the severe glance Sir Harry -turned upon her did not, as it would generally have done, pique her to -fresh flightiness. - -“And pray, ma’am, why did you force yourself into Colonel Bayard’s -mission to Qadirabad?” he asked her. - -She scorned the quibble that the Colonel had said he would welcome her -presence. “Ah, now, Sir Harry, wouldn’t you have found Sahar dull if -you’d been me?” - -“Was that your sole reason, pray?” - -“Not a bit of it. Ambrose wouldn’t take me with him to Sultankot, so I -told him the next time I’d come without asking. And I did.” - -“I see. That you might boast a cheap triumph over your husband, you -chose to double--or at least to add very largely to my anxieties at -this time?” - -“Well now, to tell you the truth, I never thought of that!” - -The confession was so naïve and unexpected that Sir Harry nearly -spoiled the effect of his lecture by laughing. But he managed to -preserve a proper severity of demeanour as he said, “Let me assure you -I have been a prey to the most serious apprehensions as to your -safety.” - -“Indeed, then, I ought to be flattered that Sir Harry Lennox would -think of me at all at such a time.” - -She must have scented the unreality of his last remark! “I fear,” he -said smoothly, “Mrs Ambrose would hardly be flattered did she realise -the nature of my thoughts. But if you have no consideration for me, is -there none due to my good friend your excellent husband?” - -“And don’t I show my consideration by wanting to be with him wherever -he goes? Who could take better care of him, if he got hurt, than his -own wife?” - -“Whom he would infinitely prefer to know in safety at Sahar! Have some -compassion on the poor fellow’s mind, ma’am--don’t keep it all for his -body. Believe me, you have no right to inflict these additional -anxieties on persons who have enough to think of already. You have had -a tolerable example, surely, in the fate of the unfortunate man -Thomas?” - -“But sure it was for my sake he brought the warning, and saved all our -lives!” cried Eveleen indignantly. - -“Possibly, though some inkling of what was in hand would probably have -reached Bayard in any case. But don’t it occur to you that the reason -the test was proposed to the unhappy man was that his errand had been -divined, and he was given the choice of proving his fidelity to his -employers or expiating what they would consider his treachery?” - -“Do you tell me he lost his own life by saving ours?” - -“In consequence of saving them, as far as I see. The honour of your -friendship, ma’am, ain’t without its penalties. Shocking rude old -fellow, ain’t I?” as she gazed at him incredulously. “Believe me, I -would withdraw that remark if I could, but what does your own -conscience say about it?” - -“It’s cruel y’are!” wept Eveleen. “When you know I would die for my -friends!” - -“Pardon me,” drily--“they die for you, you mean.” - -“Ah, cruel, cruel! As if I’d ever, ever go where I wasn’t wanted -again!” - -“Come! now I have hopes of you. Does that mean that if I can find a -safe place for you among the baggage to-morrow, you pledge your word -to stay where you are put and do what you are bid?” - -“Oh, and I’ll see the battle?” joyfully. - -“Impossible to say, but I should think it unlikely. Will you do -absolutely what you are told--whether you find yourself in a good -place for seeing or not?” - -“I will, I will! and I’ll be grateful to y’all my days.” - -“May they be many!” Sir Harry’s tone was still dry. “If you don’t keep -your word they won’t be--that’s all.” - -“Ah, then, would y’have the heart to have me shot?” - -“Quite unnecessary. The enemy will see to that if you go running about -the country--or our own camp-followers, who are the choicest mob of -rascals I ever saw. I know they’re capable of any enormity, because -they treat their dumb beasts so abominably. I owe this to one of -’em”--he indicated his bandaged right hand. - -“Why, did y’interpose to prevent a blow and receive it yourself, Sir -Harry?” with interest. - -“Not precisely. A scoundrel was knocking his poor camel about, and my -fist found its way to his forehead. The fellow had a head like a rock! -It was my hand that was smashed; he remained unhurt. Munshi tells me -that the rascals have a game of running at one another with their -heads down, butting like rams, and I believe it--save that the sport -must be too harmless to be profitable.” - -“I’m glad ’twas for a camel you did it,” said Eveleen. “Anybody would -defend a horse, but y’are the only one that’s really fond of camels, -don’t you know?” - -Sir Henry looked at her suspiciously, and took advantage of -circumstances to change the subject with finality. “Here we are, you -see. We have managed to find a tent for you, but furniture was beyond -us. I call it the one advantage of Indian travelling, that each -visitor brings his own four-poster along with him.” - -He dismounted with amazing agility, and came to help Eveleen from her -saddle, but was interrupted by Colonel Bayard. - -“Ambrose has been telling me your plans, General, and I can’t say how -glad I am to find you share my view that it ain’t bloodshed, but a -moral effect, that’s called for. May I be permitted to do my part? -Lend me a couple of hundred Europeans and the steamers, and give me -one more day, and we will fire the _shikargahs_ and drive the game -towards you. No Orientals can stand being taken in flank, and where -they would fight desperately if assailed in front, it would not -surprise me did they surrender without fighting at all.” - -“H’m!” grunted Sir Harry. “Presently, presently! We don’t hold -councils of war in public, my good fellow. But Europeans? Certainly -not. I have but four hundred in my whole army, and each man is worth -his weight in diamonds to me. And no more delay--not an hour! You must -be back in time. Can’t put off the battle to suit you. Sorry to keep -you waiting, ma’am.” - -The day wore itself away slowly enough. Eveleen was tired after the -excitements of the last forty-eight hours, but she found it difficult -to rest. It was the cold weather, but at midday the heat made a tent a -very inadequate shelter, and the many sounds of a camp suggested such -interesting things which might be happening that she was for ever -jumping up to look out. Richard and Brian were busy outside the -General’s little tent close by. It was pitched under a rather -inadequate tree, in the shade of which the office work was necessarily -done, since it could not possibly have been accomplished inside. -Messengers came and went, officers arrived with reports of various -kinds, deputations of men with representations to make, offenders to -receive admonition--and the General dealt with them in patriarchal -style. Late in the afternoon Colonel Bayard and his two hundred Native -Infantry left for the steamers, the officers not disguising their -dissatisfaction at the possibility of missing the battle. At sunset -there was a far more picturesque spectacle, when the Khemistan Horse -rode out to reconnoitre from the land side the hunting-forest in which -the enemy was supposed to be concealed, and thus distract their -attention from Colonel Bayard’s operations by water. The camp woke up -as the sun went down. Fires were lighted, and the men who had grumbled -at the heat in their tents all day came out gladly to enjoy the -warmth. Sitting round the fires, they watched their meal cooking, and -exulted in the thought of the morrow. The British Army groused in -those days as in these, but the _nil admirari_ pose had not yet become -fashionable--or if it had, it had passed by these Irish lads and left -them unscathed. The General had a wood fire in front of his tent like -the rest, and its smoke served as a much-needed deterrent from the -attentions of the mosquitoes. He and Eveleen and his staff sat on -small boxes round a large box for a table, and when the resources of -his two canteens were exhausted, shared tumblers and even plates. Sir -Henry was in a reminiscent mood. He talked about his parents--his -father a giant both in mind and body, who would have been the greatest -General of the age had a bat-like Government but taken advantage of -his powers; his mother at once the best and the most beautiful woman -of her time. Then he turned to his brothers, of whom there were -several, each remarkable in his particular sphere, but none to compare -with the two who were soldiers like himself, and like him, had fought -and bled in the Peninsula. They had attained a certain measure of -recognition, but nothing to what they should have received had they -been treated fairly: there was a cross-grained fate pursuing every -Lennox which robbed him of the due reward of his deeds. In all this he -called upon his nephew--son to one of the ill-used soldiers--for -confirmation, which was dutifully given. But when the General’s -attention was distracted for a moment by the arrival of a message, -Frederick Lennox spoke in a hollow whisper to Eveleen. - -“It’s all quite true, and yet there ain’t a word of it true! What’s -wrong with us Lennoxes is that we are all of us such queer -cross-grained fellows that we make our own enemies.” - -Eveleen was greatly interested, for the Lennox temperament seemed to -have an affinity with her own--as Richard had once hinted,--and she -would fain have pursued the subject, but the General’s eye was upon -them again. The message had apparently recalled him from the past to -the present. - -“They tell me now that if the Khans bring up all their forces, they -will put sixty thousand Arabits into the field against us to-morrow,” -he said. “Well, be they sixty or a hundred thousand, I’ll fight ’em! -It shall be do or die. No Ethiopian muddle for me! I would never show -my face again. Well, Heaven grant me to be worthy of my wife and -girls, and not disgrace ’em!” - -“Sure y’are the first ever mentioned disgrace in the same breath with -yourself, Sir Harry,” said Eveleen earnestly. He glowered at her. - -“Young troops--never saw a fight before, and a leader with no -experience of high command! The Duke’s battles were ended when he was -ten years younger than I--Napoleon’s the same. Yet there’s a kind of -elation in the delightful anxiety of leading an army--and such an -army--against a force twenty times its number. How many proud Arabits -will have bit the dust by this hour to-morrow! But who am I, to dare -to rejoice in the prospect of taking life, instead of lamenting the -grievous necessity? At least I have done my utmost to avoid -bloodshed--even Bayard admits it.” He had been talking as if to -himself, but his tone changed suddenly. “Well, well; a bit more -writing and a visit to the outposts, then three hours’ sleep, for I -had none last night--some foolish report or other coming in all night -long. Get what rest you can, Mrs Ambrose, and you, gentlemen. We march -at four.” - -The night felt very short to Eveleen, though she must have had at -least two hours’ more sleep than the General. It was in that most -uncomfortable hour before dawn that she was waked, and it seemed -impossible ever to get ready in the cold and the confined space and by -the light of a dimly burning lantern. But she was outside at last, in -a chill grey light in which figures moved like shadows at first, but -gradually became more distinct. Richard brought her a cup of coffee, -which was hot and sweet and strong--the very stimulant she -needed,--and Brian presented her with a chunk of meat balanced on a -biscuit, which required all her attention to get it conveyed safely to -her mouth. When it was disposed of, she had leisure to look about. The -camp was disappearing amid cracks and creaks; soldiers, servants, -camp-followers were running about like ants in a threatened ant-hill. -The General, in a sheepskin coat which combined with his spectacles to -give him the look of a philosopher turned bandit, was receiving a -report from a dark-faced officer with a bushy black beard--Captain -Keeling of the Khemistan Horse,--which seemed to make him very angry. - -“No sign of the enemy in the _shikargahs_? Then where on earth have -they got to? If their hearts have failed ’em again, I’ll chase ’em to -the gate of Qadirabad and out at t’other end! Then Bayard’s expedition -will be no use, and I can’t get at him! I wish I had never let him -go--robbing me of two hundred of my best sepoys and three invaluable -officers. Well, many thanks for the information, Keeling. You are -advanced guard now, you know. I needn’t tell you to keep a sharp -look-out for the rascals, with all these woods and nullahs about.” - -Captain Keeling saluted and rode away, and somehow or other, from a -mob falling aimlessly over each other’s feet, the army sorted itself -out and into column of route, and the march began. The cavalry ahead -and on the flanks may have been able to see where they were going, but -the dust they stirred up made a gritty fog in which the infantry -toiled along blindly. It was full daylight now, and the sun was -growing hot. The General had discarded his woolly coat and carried it -before him on the saddle, and Eveleen threw back the veil she had worn -to protect her face from the dust, that she might at least be able to -breathe. In a brief halt about seven o’clock, Sir Henry conferred with -Captain Keeling again, and the Khemistan Horse trotted off briskly on -another reconnaissance, their place in the van being taken by a Bengal -Cavalry regiment. The army had not long got into motion again before a -gun was heard in front, then a regular fusillade, which was repeated -at brief intervals. - -“He’s found ’em this time!” chuckled Sir Henry, and presently a sowar, -his horse in a lather, galloped back and presented a note. The General -read it with visible pleasure. - -“The Arabits have kept the appointment right enough, gentlemen,” he -said to his staff. “They are drawn up behind Mahighar--the very place -I fixed on,--a strong position, so Keeling says, with both flanks -protected by _shikargahs_ and the front by a deep dry watercourse. He -estimates them at twenty thousand at least, with fifteen guns. The -Khans are in camp behind a fortified village on their right. He -remains under fire to reconnoitre more closely, which will give us -time for our part of the business.” - -A brief order sent Brian back with the sowar, to bring the latest -news, and orderlies were despatched down the column to hurry the -loiterers and prevent straggling. Stewart rode ahead with the Engineer -officers, who knew exactly what they had to do, and presently the -General and his companions arrived at a clump of scraggy trees, round -which the ground was being neatly marked out with flags. - -“Headquarters,” said Sir Henry laconically. “Ambrose, I shan’t want -you at present. You had better find out a nice sheltered place for Mrs -Ambrose here on the right somewhere. You won’t be disturbed. That’s -where the hospital tents will be, and there are no invalids to-day--as -yet. Dare say he don’t want to do anything of the kind,” he added, -more audibly than he intended, to Brian; “but hang it! a man does owe -some duty to his wife.” - -Absurdly embarrassed, and not a little angry, Richard obeyed, and -Eveleen, lifted from her saddle, led the way into the grateful shade -of the little wood. The air was full of the thunder of the guns, and -her husband had to shout when he warned her of a projecting root that -might have made her trip. They paused in sight of the tents in course -of erection, where the surgeons--with what looked like, but doubtless -was not, unholy joy--were setting out in order objects of gruesome -aspect, and Eveleen turned with a smile. - -“How cross y’are, Ambrose! Y’ought be giving me all sorts of farewell -messages, don’t you know?” - -“I don’t know that there’s much to tell you,” he said gruffly. “Stay -near your tent, and do what you are told. If--if things go wrong, old -Abdul Qaiyam will take care of you, and get you away if it can be -done. You promise to do exactly as he says?” - -“I wouldn’t have thought you’d consider it dignified to take orders -from the bearer, but if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll do it by all -means.” - -“And--if the worst comes to the worst, you know what to do? You have a -pistol?” - -“I have that. Sure it’s a pleasure to find you think me capable of -doing the proper thing sometimes--if it’s only once in the world.” - -“You appear to be in excellent spirits. I congratulate you.” - -“Yes, and it _is_ appearance, and nothing else----” furiously. “D’ -y’ask me why? Because if I didn’t I’d _howl_--there! and how would you -like that?” - -Horribly ashamed, and even more embarrassed than before, Richard felt -the absolute necessity of making some acknowledgment, and forced a -“Thank you!” from his reluctant lips. Reading rather than hearing it, -Eveleen laughed with the tears in her eyes. - -“Y’are so English, Ambrose! But don’t let us tease one another any -more at all. I’ll be quite happy making a garland to crown you with -when you come back victorious. And you’ll be happy knowing I’m quite -safe.” - -“I don’t know,” he said dubiously. “This spot is shockingly -exposed--no defence of any kind---- Oh, look there! I might have known -Sir Henry would have some plan of his own. This is what they do at the -Cape in repelling Kaffir attacks--but there they have waggons for -their breastwork. D’ye see--between those two tents--the camels -kneeling with their heads outwards, and the baggage piled up between -’em, to make a barricade to fire over? A regular fortification! The -Arabits will think twice before they try to spread panic among our -camp-followers now--all herded inside, and a strong guard--though it -reduces our numbers----” - -“Never mind! The fewer the greater honour,” said Eveleen, and after a -time they walked back towards the spot designated as headquarters, -where Sir Henry and the staff were just preparing to mount. A cloud of -dust to the right showed where the artillery was taking up its -position, while on the left the Bengal Cavalry were moving off to -support the Khemistan Horse. In front, drawn up in serried ranks, as -if on parade, was the infantry--the Queen’s --th in the post of honour -next to the guns. - -“Hanged if I’d let my enemy take up his position as calmly as at a -review, if I was an Arabit commander,” said the General. “I wonder if -they have anything in the watercourse that Keeling did not see--any -sort of trap. We shall soon find out for ourselves.” - -“A frontal attack, General?” asked Richard. - -“Necessarily. Keeling sends word that he tried to ride round their -left, but the jungle is full of nullahs, all scarped, and matchlockmen -in the trees. I myself reconnoitred to the right just now with the -Bengalis, and it’s equally bad there--thick woods on either bank of -the watercourse, which is deep in wet mud. No matchlockmen showed -their noses, but that’s their cunning. They must be there, they would -be fools if they didn’t hold that _shikargah_, and worse fools if they -told me they were doing it. We caught sight of a smoke in the -distance, so Bayard has done his work, though miles away from the -enemy’s position. I wish I had that detachment back, but that’s crying -over spilt milk. Good-bye, Mrs Ambrose; give us your prayers.” - -He bowed from his saddle to shake hands, and Eveleen looked up at him -with brimming eyes. “God bring you safe through, Sir Harry--and you, -my boy Brian and you----” she could not utter her husband’s name, but -gave her hand to each man as he bent towards her in passing. By the -cloud of dust that followed their movements she could see that Sir -Harry was taking up his position at the head of his array, and the -line moved off, rather to the right, while the firing continued on the -left. Had the baggage-guard occupied a hill of any sort, it might have -been possible to follow the fortunes of the fight; but the plain was -perfectly flat, and there was not even a house-roof to mount. Eveleen -wandered about with a white face, listening to the cannonade, and -wondering, whenever a momentary pause came, what terrible meaning it -might bear. The surgeons and their native assistants were fidgeting in -and out of the hospital tents, having few preparations to make -compared with their successors of to-day, and they also were -listening. At last the sound of the enemy’s fire was drowned by a -nearer roar--more sustained and regular. - -“D’ye hear that, ma’am?” cried the nearest doctor, waving an unrolled -bandage about his head like a conjuror. “That’s blessed old Brown -Bess. We’ve got into touch with ’em! Now we shall soon have plenty to -do. There are our guns now!” - -It was thrilling, but not enlightening. The rival roars continued, now -one predominating, now the other, then both uniting in a crash that -made the earth shake; but there was nothing to be seen but dust below -and distant smoke mounting into the blue sky above. Then curious -little forms appeared on the edge of the dust-cloud, looking like some -new kind of quadruped, and resolved themselves into doolies, each -carried by two brown men, running and panting as if in terror, but -bringing in their burdens faithfully through the gap left in the -barricade, and depositing them at the hospital tents. - -“Better go round the other side of the _tope_, ma’am,” said the -surgeon, advancing with dreadful determination. - -“Perhaps I could help?” suggested Eveleen half-heartedly. - -“No, no. We don’t want ladies mixing themselves up in this sort of -work,” blissfully unconscious of the change a mere dozen of years was -to bring forth, and Eveleen retired to the shelter of her tent, and -stopped her ears from the sounds she thought she heard. Then the -surgeon hurried across to her. - -“Fellow here, Mrs Ambrose--Kenton of the N.I.--pretty bad--if you -would sit by him and talk, or let him talk. We shall have to amputate -presently, but our hands are full just now, and he’s a nervous sort of -chap. If you can get him to talk to you, it’ll take his mind off it.” - -Horribly scared, but ashamed to refuse, Eveleen went back with him, to -find the wounded man--boy rather, for he must have been younger than -Brian--laid in the shade of the trees. His face was white and drawn, -but over his body, at which Eveleen glanced fearfully, a covering had -been thrown. The doctor broke a branch from the nearest tree and put -it into her hand. - -“That will keep the flies off, at any rate. And if he’s thirsty, you -can give him some water. Now please talk!”--in an urgent whisper, as -he went off. - -It seemed horrible to disturb any one who was in such pain, but as -Eveleen sat down beside the boy she managed to say, “Don’t answer if -it hurts you too much, but just tell me--we are winning?” - -“Of course!” The closed eyes opened with an effort, and met hers -indignantly. “With such a commander, and such men, how could we -possibly lose?” - -“Sure y’are a boy after the General’s own heart!” said Eveleen -approvingly. Then, catching the doctor’s nod of encouragement as he -disappeared round a tent, she went on. “But tell me now, why did Sir -Harry turn to the right, when the poor Khemistan Horse had been under -fire so long on the left?” - -“Because the matchlock-fire from the village was too heavy. Keeling’s -men were in skirmishing order, lying down behind their horses, and -couldn’t take much harm, but to lead a column of infantry into it -would have been destruction. But tell you what”--he spoke vivaciously, -though in a thin weak voice, and she had grown sufficiently accustomed -to the noise of the battle to be able to hear--“we very nearly caught -it just as hot on the right, and if the enemy commander knew his -business we should have done. That _shikargah_ there, which Sir Henry -reconnoitred with the Bengalis without seeing a soul, has a wall in -front of it, and in the wall was a gap--just broken by accident, as -you might say. But as we came near, there was a chap sitting astride -upon the wall, near the gap, who fired at the General, and missed. -Then another matchlock was handed up to him, and another, but he -missed every time, and one of our men toppled him off the wall with a -bullet. The General stood up in his stirrups and looked at the place -with his telescope, and then dismounted and went quite close. Then he -told Captain Crosse, of my regiment, to take his company just inside -the gap and hold it at all costs. And he is holding it, I tell you! We -heard the firing break out in the wood as we marched on. They had -prepared an ambush there to fall upon our flank, do you see? and if -they’d had the sense to cut loopholes, or throw up a banquette for -firing over the wall, they might have swept us all away--if they -hadn’t betrayed themselves by setting their sharpshooter to pick off -the General.” - -“And then? if y’are not too tired,” said Eveleen quickly. - -“Tired? It helps me to forget, you see. They were firing at us from -the opposite bank of the dry river as we got closer, but we held our -fire till we were not more than a hundred yards off. We marched on up -to the very bank, and then--give you my word, we did get a start! -Looking down into the bed of the stream was like looking into a sea of -turbaned heads, with rolling eyes and grinning teeth, and swords and -shields; and they all came at us with a frightful yell. They had been -crouching behind the bank to surprise us--and they did. We went at it -ding-dong, musket and matchlock and pistol, and bayonet and shield and -tulwar, they rushing up the bank in waves and rolling us back, and -then our men rallying and pouring in a volley that checked ’em a bit. -And the General riding up and down between, holloing us on! Didn’t you -hear ’em cheer him when he rallied the Queen’s --th? I should have -thought it could have been heard at Qadirabad! And then I went down, -and he sent an orderly to get a doolie, and Paddy the aide--oh, I beg -your pardon; that’s your brother, ain’t it?--helped to get me into it, -and that’s all I know. But tell me, what time is it?” - -“It must be quite noon, I think,” said Eveleen. - -“Noon? and we went into it at nine! Has the cavalry charged yet, do -you know?” - -“The whole army might have charged, but we wouldn’t know. There is not -a thing to be seen for dust.” - -“Believe me, you’d know if the Bengalis charged. The ground would -shake--quite a different feeling from the rumble the guns make. Oh, -why, why ain’t they charging the village? That was what the General -sent ’em to support the Khemistan Horse for--we all knew it--to make a -diversion if he was hard pressed. He can’t keep it up if they -don’t--there’s a hundred Arabits to every man of ours. We shall be cut -to pieces---- No, no--listen; what’s that?” - -He tried to start up, but Eveleen held him down gently. “I hear, I -hear!” she cried, almost as excited as himself. “A different sound -entirely--like rolling thunder! I feel it more than I hear. Oh, will -it, will it be the charge?” - -“It must be a charge, but is it their cavalry or ours? No, help me to -turn my head, please----” and with a great effort he got his ear near -the ground. “It _is_ ours--the noise is going away from us. This is -victory, then.” - -For a few minutes the din of firing broke out with such force as to -drown all other sounds. Then it became broken and irregular, then -seemed to pass away altogether to the right. Neither Eveleen nor the -wounded boy could say a word. With parted lips and wildly beating -hearts they stared at one another, afraid to move lest they should -lose some pregnant sound as the minutes rolled on. Then they both -became aware that the sound of the firing had ceased. From far, far in -the distance came a thin flat cheer, then another, then a third. - -“We’ve won!” said young Kenton. “I don’t mind now,” and fainted. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - THE MORROW OF VICTORY. - -“/We/ are honoured, Mrs Ambrose,” said Sir Harry, with his most -courtly bow, as Eveleen hurried out of her tent--as quickly as its -extreme smallness would allow--to receive the dusty and grimy company -that rode up. The baggage and hospitals had moved on in the wake of -the tide of battle, and the night’s bivouac was on the other side of -the watercourse which had served the enemy as a trench--close to the -stretch of ground on which the Khans and their army had been encamped -the night before. “Valour would lose half its reward without the -approbation of the fair.” - -“Ah then, Sir Harry, you have spoilt my compliment that I was going to -offer! What’s the use of my telling you y’are brave, when y’have said -it about yourselves already?” - -“But how could we be other than brave when we had Mrs Ambrose to fight -for?” asked the General gallantly. - -“Cot, Evie!” cried Brian. “Acknowledge us all as heroes now, or -confess your smiles have lost their power.” - -“Where’s that wreath of mine?” demanded Richard--a little above -himself, like the rest, after this wonderful day. - -“Here!” said Eveleen unexpectedly, bringing it out from behind her, -but he was equal to the occasion. - -“Present it to the General, then, pray. We may all be heroes, as your -brother says, but there would have been no victory without him.” - -“Will y’accept it, Sir Harry?” Eveleen held up the wreath. - -“May it be conferred upon Black Prince instead? At one moment I -confess I was on the point of saving my valuable life by sacrificing -his, poor beast! so it’s fitting he should have some reward, -especially since poor Kenton---- But how is my young hero?” - -“Quite happy once we heard the soldiers cheering for the victory----” -Eveleen was arranging the wreath over the charger’s ears. “They took -his arm off soon after that, and I have not seen him since, but the -surgeon says he will do well. Then was it he or Black Prince saved -your life, Sir Harry?” - -“Young Kenton, as it happened. A big strapping fellow of an Arabit -came over the bank, saw me riding alone in front of the line, and made -straight for me. With these broken fingers, I was powerless to defend -myself, but I got half the reins into that hand, with frightful agony, -intending as he cut at me to give Black Prince’s head a chuck that -would make the poor animal the recipient of the blow instead of me. -But Kenton ran forward and took the cut on his arm, thrusting at the -Arabit, who warded it off with his shield, and would have cut at us -again, had not a soldier come up in time with his bayonet. So you see -I have the three of ’em to thank.” - -“I’m jealous,” said Eveleen discontentedly. “What were these two men -of mine doing, Sir Harry?” - -“Staying where they were told, ma’am, and carrying messages when they -were required. D’ye think I wanted the whole staff trotting up and -down with me to draw the enemy’s fire, and riding down our own men -when they turned? I tell you there was no room for parade manœuvres -of that sort. Our line was never more than three yards from the -enemy’s--sometimes only one. So don’t scold these good fellows when -they deserve to be praised rather. We shall meet at dinner, -gentlemen.” - -He bowed again to her as he hobbled into his little shabby tent, and -the staff separated hastily, to make such improvements in their -appearance as the scanty materials at hand permitted, for the -General’s strict regulations as to baggage were still rigorously -enforced. Once more the party sat on boxes, with two larger boxes put -together for a table, and as always when Sir Harry was on active -service, the only drink was water. Bottled beer--which every European -on the Bombay side regarded as a necessary of life,--wine, and spirits -were sternly excluded from his campaigning requisites, as also smoking -materials of all kinds. But the meal was cheerful, even hilarious, and -every one had something to tell of the events of the day. - -“What a battle!” said Sir Harry at last. “Three mortal hours of -helter-skelter fighting--musket against tulwar and shield,--and the -two lines within arm’s reach of one another the whole time. I saw our -soldiers loading in their haste without using the ramrod at all, -merely knocking the butt of the piece on the ground, and coolly -changing blunted flints while presenting the bayonet at the enemy. -Were there ever such troops?” - -“Was there ever such a commander, General?” said Brian, in the easy -way in which an Irishman can pay a compliment without appearing -fulsome. “The troops would have broke and run time and again without -you to rally ’em. They would have done nothing without you.” The rest -murmured hearty assent. - -“So the generous honest fellows testified when they gave me that cheer -in the midst of the battle,” said Sir Harry, with deep emotion. -“Believe me, gentlemen, I accepted it as the most moving tribute ever -paid to a British commander. But I had no choice. From the moment I -knew of the numbers of the enemy, and perceived his dispositions, I -saw I must lead my soldiers against him before they were aware of his -masses, and remain myself in the forefront of the fight throughout. A -merciful Providence has justified my prevision.” - -“But did you guess they had the river-bed filled with troops, Sir -Harry?” asked Eveleen eagerly. “Sure you said----” - -Sir Harry looked at her with humorous apology. “I did, ma’am--but I -knew what I must find unless the Arabit commander were a consummate -fool. He ain’t that, as his posting the ambush in the wood on our -right showed, but inexperience--or contempt of his foe”--a laugh went -round--“lost him the results he ought to have gained. That opening in -the wall should have been masked, and some sort of platform devised -from which to fire. As it was, the breach served me as a warning that -troops were in the wood ready to attack us in flank, and when I looked -inside and saw that by no possibility could they line the wall with -matchlockmen and mow us down, I had but to send the heroic Crosse and -his company to stop that hole as a cork stops a bottle, and the ambush -was rendered nugatory--though my brave Leonidas perished in holding -the gap. Yes”--as Eveleen started,--“poor Crosse has fallen, with half -his men. We could send them no assistance once we ourselves were -engaged, even had we had any to send. Only by breaching the wall with -cannon when we reached the bank were we able to relieve the -hard-pressed remnant.” - -“Poor Crosse saved the army, General,” said Richard gruffly. - -“Indeed you are right. The troops we had in Spain would have gone over -the bank and through the enemy up t’other side. But these young -soldiers--seeing a riverful of such ugly customers, jumping up at ’em -with nasty shining swords like so many Jack-in-the-boxes--they were -astonished, they hesitated. Had a flank attack come at the same -moment, they must have broke. But as it was, they only needed -rallying.” - -“‘Only,’ General!” said Captain Stewart. “A good many times over.” - -“True, but what other troops would have responded as they did? But it -should not have been necessary. Upon my soul, gentlemen”--forgetting -prudence in his warmth--“if Crosse saved the army, Welborne came -within an ace of destroying it. That charge was due an hour before.” - -“Ah, we were listening for it--Mr Kenton and I!” cried Eveleen. “‘Why -won’t they charge?’ says he, over and over again, and at last it came. -But why not before, Sir Harry?” - -“Because Welborne ‘thought it right to wait for definite orders----’” -the General mimicked the intonation ferociously. “I posted him there -with orders to charge the village at all costs if he saw me hard -pressed--and he couldn’t see; he must wait to be told. That gallant -fellow Keeling was straining at the leash, sending insulting messages -to Welborne to try and move him--at last preparing to charge the place -with the Khemistan Horse alone, which must have meant their -annihilation, when happily the orders arrived which I had snatched a -moment in the thickest press of the battle to send, wondering what in -the world had taken the cavalry. And then they did go! Straight at the -village, contemptuous of the bullets that rained upon ’em, over the -nullahs, heedless of emptied saddles, through the guns, sabring the -gunners, then through the camp of the Khans, driving its occupants -before ’em in headlong flight! Then at last our stubborn antagonists -in the watercourse, seeing their rear menaced, gave ground slowly and -sullenly, yielding to us reluctantly the blood-stained trench for -which we had so long contended. Mrs Ambrose--gentlemen--I give you my -word that when I stood in my stirrups and shouted, ‘The enemy are -beaten! God save the Queen!’ and my glorious soldiers answered me with -three feeble but indomitable cheers, I would not have changed -places--Heaven forgive me!--with the Duke after Waterloo!” - -No comparison on earth could have meant more to Sir Harry, and his -voice trembled as though he feared sacrilege in venturing upon it, but -the little company round the table rose up with one accord and cheered -him again. The men were too much moved to speak, but Eveleen was never -at a loss for words, even while she dashed her tears away with a wet -handkerchief. - -“And why would you, Sir Harry? Sure the odds were smaller against us -at Waterloo than to-day.” - -“My dear lady, never say such a thing again. At Waterloo the Duke -confronted the greatest commander the world has ever known--and the -world itself was the prize. Here I was faced only by an unlettered -barbarian, knowing nothing of the lessons of military history, nor -skilful enough even to take advantage of an inexperienced adversary -commanding young troops. But after to-day I am no longer -inexperienced. Last night I wondered whether I could conduct a battle; -now I know I can. And my troops are not young soldiers any longer. Now -that they have seen the proud Arabit--not in flight, but stalking -unwillingly away, with frequent backward looks of hatred and -contempt--they may respect him, but they will fear him no longer. -Never again will they be checked by such a surprise as that of -to-day.” - -“But sure there’ll be no more fighting?” she asked in dismay. “Not -after a battle like this?” - -“What do you say, Ambrose? Have we seen the last of ’em yet?” - -“I fear not, General. There are too many left.” - -“My notion precisely. D’ye see, ma’am, a lot of these fellows must -have run away just because they saw others running--not because we -beat ’em, for there weren’t enough of us to do it. Moreover, I have -reason to believe they had not succeeded in bringing up all their -forces. Kamal-ud-din, in particular, I am assured was not present.” - -“But the prisoners would maybe be telling you that just to make the -victory less, Sir Harry.” - -“There ain’t any prisoners. No quarter was given--it was impossible. -The wounded Arabit, writhing on the ground, would cut at the legs of -the soldier trying to avoid trampling on him. I myself sought in vain -to save a brave fellow from the bayonet of one of our men. He -disdained my offer, and fought grimly to the end. ‘It’s butcher’s work -to-day, and nothing else, General,’ says the victor to me as he -withdrew his weapon. No, I have learnt nothing from the foe. My -informants are my own spies, who tell me that Kamal-ud-din, with his -ten thousand followers, had not come up. More and more do I rejoice -that I took the risk presented to me. I own I was tempted to hold off -for a while this morning, and let my artillery play upon the enemy’s -position before attempting the attack. What would have been the -result? Time, on which, unknown to me, all depended, would have been -lost. If the Khans had not taken courage to endeavour to outflank me, -Kamal-ud-din must have caught me in the rear. At least he will think -twice before doing so now. They know this cock can fight.” - -“Ah, but tell me,” cried Eveleen, rather maladroitly--it was the -suggestion of loss of time that had been the connecting link in her -mind, “what has happened Colonel Bayard? Did you meet him at all?” - -“He has not come in yet, but he had some distance to march. I wished -over and over again I had his two hundred sepoys, and especially the -European officers, with me, but he can quite well claim that the smoke -he raised alarmed the enemy, and prevented their making off in that -direction.” Sir Henry spoke in measured tones, but in the minds of all -present was the thought of Colonel Bayard’s unceasing efforts to bring -about further delay, and the disaster they might have caused. The -General spoke again in his ordinary voice. - -“But without information from Bayard, or even my spies, I can see with -my own eyes that the enemy are by no means vanished away. There are -large bodies of ’em hanging about still in a highly suspicious -manner--ready, no doubt, to fall on our flanks should we attempt a -night march, or to harass us in any other respect. But they will find -no opportunity. I can’t order the cavalry to disperse ’em, for I have -not enough, and those I have are worn out with to-day’s exertions, and -I have work for ’em to-morrow; but if they venture to attack us, I -think they’ll have a hard nut to crack. Tell me, ma’am, do you remark -any peculiar feature about this camp?” - -“Only that it seems smaller--more compact; and there are fewer natives -about--more soldiers,” said Eveleen hesitatingly. Sir Harry laughed -triumphantly. - -“Aha, Ambrose! your good lady has a sharp eye. Yes, ma’am; from this -night’s bivouac the camp-followers are excluded. Their numbers and -their lack of discipline would embarrass any force--have ruined many, -in Ethiopia and elsewhere. The moment an attack is delivered the -terror-stricken multitude, with cries of panic, seek the opportunity -to escape, urging before them their animals, often their sole -possession. The disorderly mass, rushing upon the troops, bursts -through the ranks, and leaves an opening of which the enemy is waiting -to take advantage. But to-night we are formed in square, and the -camp-followers are outside at a convenient distance, while the -baggage, as you see, is in the centre. Should an alarm be raised, and -the followers run in upon the square, the soldiers are warned to fire -upon them and the enemy alike. More bloodshed--eh? Believe me, it -ain’t by any desire of mine, but I must safeguard the lives of my -troops. As I rode over the field just now, and beheld the heaps of -dead, I said to myself, ‘Am I guilty of these horrid scenes?’ but my -conscience refused to reproach me.” - -“And well it might, General!” said Brian heartily. “Is there one of us -here hasn’t heard it said over and over again, ‘The General’s the only -officer in the force that don’t wish for a fight’?” - -“Because I have seen battles before now--such as you young fellows -hardly dream of--and know their full horrors. Well, you will all -justify me, when I am dead and gone. Gentlemen, I am indebted to you -for your services to-day, and you won’t find me forgetful. To-morrow I -shall ask you, it may be, for others even more arduous. I send off a -squadron at dawn to demand the surrender of Qadirabad on pain of being -stormed, while we face about to deal with Kamal-ud-din when he comes -up--if he comes up, perhaps I should say.” - -He stood up stiffly to shake hands with each of his guests. “Good -night, ma’am; good night, good night! I wish you would take order with -this brother of yours. He goes about looking for personal combats, -which I tell him ain’t becoming in a staff officer. After having his -horse killed under him in the bed of the watercourse, what does he do -but seek out and slay one of the principal chiefs of the enemy, in the -midst of his followers? There’s a fire-eater for you--eh?” - -“Brian!” Eveleen’s tone was poignant, “d’ye tell me Cromaboo is -killed? I saw you were riding Bawn, but I thought----” - -“Will you listen to her? She’d rather her own and only brother was -killed, than his horse!” cried Brian reproachfully. - -“Come along, my dear. We are taking up the General’s time,” said -Richard, and she obeyed reluctantly. It was the kind of evening on -which it seems impossible to go to bed as if nothing had happened. - -Colonel Bayard was in camp in the morning--very well pleased with -himself in the honest conviction that his expedition had contributed -materially to the General’s success. His force, on the other hand, -were so disgusted that their comrades found it advisable not to -mention the battle to them. To spend a whole day in trying to set fire -to a forest which would not burn, and from which the enemy had -silently vanished in the night, while eight miles away a -life-and-death struggle was going forward--as the booming of the guns -showed,--this was enough to make any troops angry. A little ray of -hope had brightened their path as they approached the camp towards -midnight, for an alarm of some sort had led to heavy firing; but if it -was really due to an attack by the enemy--and not to a panic among the -excluded camp-followers, who suffered heavily when they tried to find -refuge in the square--it was quickly beaten off. The General, wrapped -in his cloak, slept through it all, and even through Colonel Bayard’s -efforts to wake him and report, but in the morning he was as fresh and -cheerful as a youngster of twenty. He had already put things in motion -for the day when he met his staff at breakfast in the shivering dawn, -and at that uncomfortable hour they found his good humour little short -of irritating. But knowing him, they understood it when they realised -the stake for which he was playing. - -“In an hour from now we should receive the reply of the Khans.” He -dropped the remark into the group round the table like a bomb. - -“Have you summoned the city already, General?” asked Colonel Bayard, -laughing. - -“I have. Keeling is gone off with a flag of truce, and the ten -best-mounted men he could pick from his regiment, so as to produce a -good impression.” - -“And what terms do you offer the Khans, if I may ask?” - -“Terms, sir?” explosively. “Their lives!” - -“Nothing more?” - -“Nothing more.” In Sir Harry’s voice there was no response to the -dismay in Colonel Bayard’s. “And there will be no haggling, neither. -They will find me as hard as iron. Why”--he smote his hand on the -table,--“I can afford nothing else. For the sake of having Qadirabad -behind me as a strong place to protect my wounded and baggage, I have -entered on this game of brag, but had the enemy the slightest -suspicion that it was brag, our goose would be cooked. What are those -bodies of armed men doing hanging about on all sides of us--within -cannon-shot, even? The city must be mine by noon, and then I will turn -upon these Arabit stragglers, and make up Kamal-ud-din’s mind for him. -With another couple of regiments of horse, I could disperse ’em in -style; but the cavalry is knocked up by the battle and the long march -before it, and the camels couldn’t drag the guns another mile. In half -an hour the hospitals and the baggage-train will set forward gently -towards Qadirabad, guarded by the cavalry at a walk, and I trust the -enemy, not knowing our plight, will take the movement as evidence of -my relentless determination. You’ll go with ’em, ma’am”--suddenly to -Eveleen, who was listening eagerly,--“but you won’t be rid of us long. -We have--er--a bit of tidying up to do here, and then the rest of the -force will follow.” - -“And occupy the Fort to-night, Sir Harry?” - -“H’m--hardly, I think. We shall see.” - -“I presume you will listen to nothing from me, General,” broke in -Colonel Bayard anxiously; “but I can’t reconcile it with my conscience -not to tell you that this is madness. The city is packed with Arabits -armed to the teeth, devoted adherents of the Khans, on whose ruin you -are determined. You propose to drive them to desperation----” - -“Not listen to you!” exploded Sir Harry. “Pray, sir, how long is it -since I listened to your repeated assurances that there were no armed -men in the city save the personal servants of the Khans? You are -singing to a different tune now. I have listened to you till you have -nearly succeeded in making an end of us all. If my intention be -madness, it is the calculated madness that stakes all upon a single -throw, and wins. The Khans shall have no further consideration--I owe -them none. My sole aim is the safety of my troops.” - -“I see--I know,” sadly. “You must pardon my warmth, Sir Henry. The -Khans have been the principal object of my consideration for so -long--it is painful to me, you may guess, to see them overthrown. Be -sure, sir, I shall venture no further criticism.” - -“Nonsense, man! I shall invite your remarks, and you will give them, -dozens of times in the next day or so, I make no doubt. But in this -matter my mind is made up.” - -“And glad I am to hear it!” murmured Eveleen under her breath, meeting -a return glance of sympathy even from the well-trained eye of Richard. -Lovable as was Colonel Bayard’s chivalrous forbearance towards the -Khans, there were very few Europeans in Khemistan to whom it had not -by this time become decidedly exasperating, and she left the -breakfast-table in quite a happy frame of mind to pack up her few -possessions. Her place in the line of march was duly appointed -her--ahead of the hospital doolies, which again were followed by the -baggage-animals, so as to escape the dust these kicked up,--and she -exchanged a cheerful salutation with young Kenton as she passed him. -Guarded by the cavalry ahead and on either flank, the column moved -off--towards the long fortress on the hill, whose massive tower loomed -above the intervening jungle-clad flats, and dominated the town on the -slopes beneath it. Keen-eyed watchers on its ramparts might even have -been able to trace the course of yesterday’s battle--be able now to -discern what they read as the victor’s advance. The slow pace at which -the cavalry moved, owing to the fatigue of their horses, must have -seemed to the Khans and their followers the relentless deliberation of -fate, for the Vakils who were on their way from the city with Captain -Keeling and his flag of truce besought Sir Harry with anguish as soon -as they beheld him to stop the march until he himself was present to -control his troops. He sent a messenger after the convoy at once, and -a halt was called, to the joy of both man and beast. The General’s -colloquy with the Vakils was brief and businesslike, carrying -conviction to their hearts, which could not conceive it possible that -such demands could come from the commander of a weak tired force, -already frightfully reduced from its original strength. To them the -bent little man who emerged growling from the dirty tent hardly large -enough to shelter him was the irresistible disposer of many legions, -and when he had once cut short their elaborate compliments and -lamentable pleading, they offered no protest against his hard terms. -They would carry them back to their Highnesses, they said, and return. - -“By noon, then!” snapped Sir Harry, with appalling ferocity. -“Otherwise---- Well, I shall have buried my dead by that time, and my -soldiers will have had their breakfast. Qadirabad would make a fine -supper for them!” - -The deputation shuddered and withdrew--noting, to their horror, that -the tents which had sheltered the European part of the army during the -night were already being struck, and that the advanced-guard which had -been halted at their request resumed its march as soon as they had -passed it. It was abundantly clear that Sir Henry would be as good as -his word, for by noon his approaching troops were easily visible from -the gate of the Fort. Panic-stricken, the Vakils issued forth again, -bearing the entreaty of their panic-stricken masters that the Bahadar -Jang would deign to stay his victorious course. The Khans would -surrender, they were on the point of doing so; their palanquins were -actually being prepared. - -“Before the gate, then,” said Sir Harry grimly. “They will find me -waiting for them,” and he halted his troops and bade them stand to -arms beneath the wall of the Fort. The soldiers grumbled horribly at -being cheated of their noonday rest, but not a man would willingly -have been absent when the procession of scarlet palanquins was seen -approaching, escorted by the usual gorgeous retinue mounted on gaily -caparisoned horses and camels. The little army which had yesterday -overthrown more than twenty times its own number formed square to -receive them, Sir Harry on his black Arab in the midst, with Colonel -Bayard beside him, and the staff behind. All were in field dress, worn -and soiled, for their scanty baggage allowed no finery, and the -General, spectacles on nose as usual, wore his shabby blue uniform and -the curious helmet tilted well over his eyes. To Eveleen, watching -from the background, the sense of drama was almost painfully present -as the six Khans, emerging one by one from their palanquins, made -their way humbly on foot to the conqueror, and proffered him their -jewelled swords, which he bade them retain. Gul Ali was almost maudlin -in his self-abasement, but Khair Husain evidently intended to carry -things with a high hand. He demanded jovially of Colonel Bayard where -he had been the day before, since he had hunted for him all over the -battlefield that he might be able to surrender to a friend, and he -offered the General something else besides his sword. What it was -Eveleen could not see, but she fancied the man’s eyes looked past Sir -Harry and rested on her. An angry refusal snapped out, and Khair -Husain passed on with a deprecatory gesture. Young Hafiz Ullah was set -at liberty, as a compliment to Colonel Bayard, to whose care he had -been committed by his father on his deathbed, but the rest of the -Khans were handed over to Brian for safe keeping--the scene of which -was to be their own beautiful garden-palace near the Agency, easily -guarded, and remote from the chance of a rescue. With slow dragging -steps the fallen Princes returned to their palanquins, and with their -servants, were carried away under a strong guard, Captain Stewart -riding up to the city with an escort to take over the principal -gateway as the General’s representative. Sir Harry drew a long breath -as he and Colonel Bayard turned their horses away again. - -“Well, this is the sort of thing makes a man feel he hasn’t lived in -vain! Fine showy things those swords--eh? I hadn’t the heart to -deprive the poor beggars of ’em, though they would have made a nice -heirloom to hand down in a private gentleman’s family. And now to make -things lively for our backward friend Kamal-ud-din!” - -“General!”--Colonel Bayard’s voice was hoarse with emotion--“I have -said nothing, raised no protest--I vowed I would make no further -effort--but after all this---- Ain’t you yet content?” - -“Content?” Sir Harry stared at him. “What is there to be content -about? After this next battle, perhaps----” - -“Another battle! more bloodshed! Don’t those awful heaps satisfy you -which I passed in the moonlight last night? Are you determined to -destroy this unhappy nation if it fails to destroy you?” - -“It has destroyed nineteen of my officers and two hundred and -fifty-six men of my small force already. Merciful Heaven! do you think -me a stone? Shall I ever forget that long row this morning of the -corpses of my noblest friends, grim with dust and blood, laid side by -side until the sand should shroud them from my sight? Are you accusing -me of taking pleasure in bloodshed, Colonel Bayard?” - -“Nay, not that---- Yet what can I think when I see you passing from -one horror to another? Your bravery, your capacity, none can now -dispute--if any one was ever fool enough to doubt it. Would that your -sword had been drawn in a nobler cause! but you have chosen the -shortest way, and it ain’t for me to remonstrate further. But shed no -more blood, I entreat you; make your name as famous for mercy as it -will always be for conquest.” - -“What is it you are trying to get me to do?” Sir Harry turned and -looked at him suspiciously. - -“Kamal-ud-din--I know him well; he is young and easily moved. At -present he is undecided whether to provoke a battle or not, because he -believes you incensed against him. Let me go to him----” - -“Certainly not. Too valuable a hostage.” - -“Let me write, then. I will choose a messenger from the retainers of -his uncles, who will inform him of their submission, and urge him to -come in and surrender. With him in your hands, there is no leader left -about whom the remnants of the Khans’ armies may rally, and you attain -at once all the results of a battle without fighting one.” - -“Be it so, then. Heaven knows the army is in no state to fight again -to-day, and I should be crippled in any movement by this train of -wounded.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - SUPPORTED ON BAYONETS. - -“/A grand/ joke for y’, Evie!” Brian ran up the steps gleefully, -forgetful for the moment of the anxious charge which--so his friends -alleged--was sapping the bloom from his youthful cheek, and turning -his hair prematurely grey. It was three days after the battle at -Mahighar, the camp had been pitched in and about the Agency compound, -and in the ruined Residency itself the Engineers had patched up two or -three rooms and a verandah for Eveleen, that she might not have to -face the vicissitudes of the weather in a tent. - -“And I have one for you!” responded Eveleen joyously. “Yours -first--you’ll appreciate mine all the better for waiting for it. Don’t -mind Ambrose; he’s far too busy to notice our nonsense.” She turned -slightly towards Brian, and with a wicked glance, laid one forefinger -over the other close to her eye. Richard was reading ostentatiously at -some little distance--but it was no more novel or interesting work -than an old Addiscombe text-book, somehow washed up on this distant -beach. - -“Listen, then. D’ye know y’are the General’s guardian angel, his -talisman of success--that he won’t fight until y’are there, and if he -lost you he’d be a gone coon? What d’ye think of that now? It’s proud -y’ought to be, indeed.” - -“I’d be prouder if I thought he took a proper view of my importance to -him,” dolefully. “I’ll impart to y’a horrid secret, Brian. Sometimes I -could almost believe the ungrateful old gentleman regarded me as an -encumbrance!” - -“That’s his artfulness. He don’t want you to realise your value. Why, -when Khair Husain Khan, wishing to show suitable respect, desired to -send y’a fine present of jewels t’other day, d’ye think the old lad -would let you have it? Not he! Gave him a nasty snub, I promise you!” - -“Ah, then, that was it!” Eveleen’s eyes danced. “I saw the creature -look at me, but how would I know what he was saying? Sure Sir Harry -might have had the politeness to offer me the choice whether I’d -accept or not.” - -She glanced very slightly towards Richard, and Richard flung away his -book, remarked “Psh!” very loudly, and rose and stalked towards his -wife and her brother. - -“Always glad to see you, Delany,” he remarked, with forced geniality, -“but I should be uncommonly obliged if you would help me in putting a -stop to this nonsense. You can’t think it’s particularly gratifying -for a man to know that such tales are going about the bazar with -respect to his wife.” - -“But sure no one that matters regards ’em as anything but a joke!” -said Brian in surprise. - -“Ah, but Ambrose can never see a joke, don’t you know?” said Eveleen -plaintively. - -“Perhaps not, but I can see defiance when I am treated to it----” -Richard was not apt at epigram, and his return was deplorably lame. He -went on to seek sympathy from Brian, who did not look encouraging: he -disliked matrimonial differences which went deeper than mere surface -squabbling. “I desired your sister particularly not to show herself at -to-day’s ceremony, yet where should I find her but on horseback within -the square, close to the General--thus giving confirmation to all -these foolish reports?” - -“As if I’d have let anything or anybody in the whole wide world keep -me away!” Eveleen broke in indignantly. “To see the colours go up on -the round tower, and the guns firing, and the soldiers cheering and -cheering as if they would never stop--would anything make me miss such -a sight, I ask you?” - -“Not my wishes, evidently. You have no regard for them.” - -“And why would I, when you gave me no slightest, tiniest hint of a -reason? Was there any, will you tell me?” - -“I had a reason, certainly, but I didn’t want to alarm you. Perhaps I -was foolish to be so careful.” - -“Will you never learn that when anything is really, truly interesting, -there ain’t the smallest possibility of its being alarming? Don’t -y’agree with me, Brian?” - -“Well, now, I don’t entirely.” Brian was perhaps not sorry to give a -helping hand to a brother-man. “It might be you’d do well to be -alarmed in this case, Evie--I don’t know. It’s a bit of a mystery to -me. By what I make out from my Khans yonder--who can be precious -affable when they like--it has something to do with some piece of -jewellery of yours that you gave away or sold. The thing has got into -Kamal-ud-din’s hands--whatever it is--and he has it to thank that he -ain’t a prisoner like his uncles and cousins.” For with callous -disregard of Colonel Bayard’s assurances on his behalf, Kamal-ud-din -had first promised effusively to come in and surrender on the -following morning, and then employed the interval in removing himself -and his forces into the desert, _en route_ for his remote ancestral -fortress of Umarganj. Possibly the messenger who conveyed the letter -had conveyed also information as to the state of the British troops; -at any rate, Kamal-ud-din was fully justified in his belief that -pursuit was out of the question. - -Eveleen pointed a dramatic finger at her husband. “Put the blame where -it ought to be, Brian. There’s the culprit for you. ’Twas that blue -pendant Uncle Tom gave me, that I showed y’at Bombay--the seal that -wouldn’t seal, don’t you know? Well, Ambrose found the Khans set a -value on it, believing ’twas the seal of King Solomon, and had been -stolen from them years and years ago, so he very kindly made them a -present of it, without so much as asking my leave.” - -“I remember it--a sort of blue cheese-plate. But it’s you are joking -now, Evie. D’ye ask me to believe he took your pendant and gave it -away without your knowing?” - -Richard growled inarticulately, and Eveleen felt obliged to furnish -the explanation he disdained to supply. - -“Well, not that exactly. I had pledged it, or pawned it--whatever you -like to call it--to get you that money you wanted, when you were -afraid you’d miss the chance of getting into the General’s family, -don’t you know? and Ambrose was shockingly cross with me about it. So -I suppose he thought he’d punish me, but ’twas he gave it to -Kamal-ud-din, you see.” - -“Holy Moses! I come into this too, do I?” groaned Brian. “Don’t betray -me to my old lad, either of you, or I _will_ get a wigging. For you -see, Evie, we have spoilt his luck between us. The stone and you go -together somehow--it’s blue, and your eyes are blue; green, rather, -I’d say if I was asked--so Khair Husain told me, and when y’are -separated, the luck’s split. At present we have the lady, and -Kamal-ud-din has the pendant--the Belle and the Bauble, to make a -pantomime title out of it. If the General had had the Bauble as well -as the Belle, he’d have swept up Kamal-ud-din with the rest of the -Khans, and conquered the country at one go. If Kamal-ud-din had had -the Belle as well as the Bauble, the Khans would have won t’other day, -and cut all our throats on the field of battle, and led the General in -triumph by a gold chain through his nose. Well, there y’are, you see. -Don’t it strike you as a bit of a temptation to the Arabits to bring -the Belle and the Bauble together again by carrying off the lady?” - -“I’d like to see them try it!” declared Eveleen defiantly. “I sent a -message to Kamal-ud-din by poor Tom Carthew when he had the stone -first that I was ill-wishing it with all my might, but that’s -_nothing_ to what I’d do if they tried to get hold of me. -Besides”--with one of the sudden changes of mood her husband found so -bewildering--“it’s just a notion I have that Ambrose wouldn’t be so -ready to part with _me_, though he thinks he can make free as he likes -with my things.” - -It was absolutely impossible for Richard to rearrange his thoughts -quickly enough to respond adequately to this overture of peace and the -glance that accompanied it, but he managed to call up some sort of -smile, and to mutter, “Oh no--rayther not, I’m sure!” Brian, scenting -a reconciliation, made haste to clinch the matter. - -“And don’t you be so nasty about that old pendant, Evie. I’m quite -certain Ambrose would have given you something instead, if y’had asked -him nicely.” - -“Ah, but Ambrose don’t agree with giving his wife presents when she -can’t keep accounts and wastes his money for him,” said Eveleen -wickedly. “There! would you believe it, I was forgetting my joke that -I had for you! What d’ye think of that, now?” she brought out of her -pocket a handkerchief tied up in knots, and unfastening them, let a -small torrent of gems tumble out upon the cane lounge where she was -sitting. Richard’s face darkened again angrily. - -“Mrs Ambrose, where did you get those?” - -“Looks as though somebody had been making you a present, if Ambrose -won’t,” said Brian lightly, with the amiable intention of averting -another dispute. “Or have you been making a little private expedition -of your own after loot? In the Fort to-day--oh, fie, Mrs Ambrose, fie! -Won’t I set the Provost Marshal and the Prize Agents on you!” - -Eveleen was bathing her hands in the jewels, without troubling to -answer either man’s question. “Such a pity they spoil their stones so -cruelly,” she said. “I wonder why will they always pierce them and -they never seem to cut them so as to bring out the full beauty. And -flaws, now--you’d think they didn’t even notice them, as if they only -cared for a stone to be as large as possible.” - -Richard’s hand gripped her shoulder--not gently. “You acknowledge -these are native stones, then--from the treasury, I suppose? How did -you get them?” - -“If you hurt me so, I’ll cry. I know I’ll have a horrid bruise for -weeks. Y’are so rough, Ambrose!” - -“Get on with y’, Evie,” said Brian curtly. “How did you get hold of -these things?” - -“Well, then, I found them!” Eveleen looked defiantly from one to the -other, resenting their tone. - -“You found them? Where, pray?” - -“On my dressing-table--wrapped up in an old dirty bit of silk -embroidery. I nearly called Ketty to pick it up with a stick and throw -it away, it looked so horrid. Then I saw something sticking out, and -’twas this emerald.” - -“Did your ayah know anything of the parcel?” - -“She swore she did not, and I wouldn’t think she’d tell me a direct -lie.” - -“May have been bribed to turn her back for a moment,” suggested Brian. - -“More likely her attention was attracted by something going on -outside,” said Eveleen promptly. “Her bump of curiosity’s enormous, -don’t you know.” - -“What do you make of this, Delany?” asked Richard hoarsely. “Is it -some such plot on Kamal-ud-din’s part as you hinted at just now?” - -“To reunite the Belle and the Bauble, d’ye mean? I wouldn’t think -that--unless they’d imagine my sister was to be cot like a bird by -spreading a trail of crumbs in front of her. No, if y’ask me, I’d say -’twas some bright scheme on the part of those Khans of mine, that have -the heart worried out of me with their crooked ways. Every man of ’em -is laden with stones like these. I know because they’re so anxious to -make me presents of ’em. But now they know if I accept anything ’twill -only go to the Prize Agents, they’re knocking off a bit. Possibly, now -they have proved my Roman virtue, they are trying elsewhere.” - -“But what’s the notion?” - -“I ask y’, indeed! Just for a sort of propitiation, maybe, to the man -in charge of ’em. But then again, they may have some plan in hand, and -’twould help ’em if I went about with my eyes shut. Or it may be they -want a good word said for ’em to the General. You know these fellows. -Can any of us say what’s in their minds?” - -“You think they are plotting to escape?” - -“I don’t know, I tell you. The way they keep my mind on the stretch, -wondering what are they after now, you’d pity me if you knew! They -can’t want more indulgences or luxuries, for they’ve got ’em all. It -makes me angry to go from the General in his wretched little _rowty_, -that barely keeps the sun off his old head, to those chaps with their -great cool rooms and fountains and green stuff. It can’t be more -servants they want, for they couldn’t get ’em in. The place is packed -with big strapping fellows, that go backwards and forwards to the -Fort, and can carry news, or treasure, or anything they like but -arms--and I wouldn’t put it past ’em to smuggle them too now and then. -At least, there’ll be no more treasure to be had now, for the Prize -Agents have taken it over--three million pounds they talk about.” - -“And you’d grudge your poor sister one little handful of spoilt -stones!” said Eveleen tragically. - -“Precisely. Hand ’em over, Evie, and I’ll leave the lot with the Prize -Agents as I go back. Whatever they were put in your room for, ’twas -for no good, and you know that as well as I do.” - -“He won’t leave me so much as one little weeshy diamond! Ah, it’s a -cruel brother I have, and a cruel husband too! I wonder have they any -hearts at all, at all?” - -“It’s a brother and a husband miles too good for you y’have,” said -Brian, tying up the stones inexorably in his handkerchief. “See here, -Ambrose, I’ll be getting you a receipt for these, in case there’d be -any question of a trap.” - -“You have a head on your shoulders,” said Richard heartily. “The -Sahib’s horse!” he called to a servant. - -Presently he came back from the steps to find Eveleen pouting in her -corner of the lounge. “Sure you might have let _me_ send them to the -Prize Agent,” was her complaint. “What bit of a chance have I of doing -the right things, when two great men seize them out of my hands and do -them instead?” - -“You see,” with a grave face, “you are so sadly destitute of jewellery -that they might have been a temptation.” - -“Ah now, aren’t y’ashamed to turn my own words against me like that? -D’ye not know a good horse is more to me than a diamond necklace any -day?” - -“But not more than this sort of thing, I hope, or I shall feel I have -gone wrong again.” He dropped a little parcel into her lap, and stood -watching while she snatched it up in surprise. - -“And what’s this, now? Have you been wasting your money on me, -Ambrose? I’m surprised at you!” - -Happily the possible double meaning of her last sentence did not occur -to her as she eagerly opened the case, and displayed a gold locket set -with pearls--large and massive, eminently what was then called “a -handsome piece of jewellery.” “And did you really choose this for me?” - -“Bayard chose it in Bombay--I asked him. He brought it up with him, -and forgot all about it till he was packing again yesterday. Ain’t you -going to look inside?” - -She opened it joyfully, never doubting what she was about to see, and -uttered a little sound of dismay. It was Brian’s cheerful eyes that -smiled quizzically at her, their expression curiously natural, though -the rest of the miniature showed the mannered stiffness of the native -artist. - -“Do you like it?” asked Richard anxiously. “I got it done here to send -down after Bayard to take with him and have it put in the locket. I -was afraid you would miss that calotype of your brother when I took it -to the painter, but it was only two or three days in the bustle of -packing up, and you happened not to think of it.” - -Eveleen was hardly listening to him. She lifted her eyes tragically -from the locket in her lap. “And why not yours?” she demanded. - -“Mine? Why, I was sure you would rather have your brother’s,” he -replied, in all innocence. - -“Major Ambrose, there are times when I’d like--I’d like---- I won’t -tell you what I’d like to do to you, but ’twould not be pleasant.” - -“Then you ain’t pleased?” incredulously. - -“Why in the world would you put _Brian_ into it?” - -“Well, it was bought with that first money he paid back, you remember, -and it seemed suitable----” - -Eveleen laughed drearily. “D’ye tell me that, now? Well then, with the -last money he pays back will you let him get me a locket and put you -into it? Then I’ll wear you both at once.” - -“By all means, if you wish it. But I don’t quite----” - -“You would not. I’d have y’understand, Ambrose, that you never will -see to your dying day! Ah, then, it’s a cross wife you have, isn’t it? -Why don’t you give me a box on the ear?” - - - -To any one but Sir Harry Lennox, his position at this time would have -inevitably recalled that of the original Austrian who caught the -Tartar. With his little force hanging on gallantly to the river front -of Qadirabad, he was powerless to exercise any control on the land -side, and it did not need much shrewdness to guess that the Arabits -defeated at Mahighar were slipping out of the city in a continuous -stream to join Kamal-ud-din and strike a return blow under his -leadership. But it might have been more dangerous to keep them than to -let them go, and the General remained untroubled by their defection. -His concern at the moment was with bricks and mortar--or rather, in -this locality, earth and mud. In the course of ten strenuous days, the -ramshackle old Fort was put into such a state of repair as it had not -known since it was first built; an entrenched camp was constructed -about the battered Residency, and a small fortification erected on the -other side of the river, where the steamers lay, to protect them and -the precious stores they carried. But no one knew better than Sir -Harry how very inadequate was his force even to guard what he -held--much more to take the field again; and he had not only ordered -reinforcements up from Bab-us-Sahel and down from Sahar, but had put -his pride in his pocket so far as to ask the Governor-General for the -regiments from British India which he had refused earlier. Pending the -arrival of relief, he sat tight, presenting a spectacle of prudent -inactivity which was as surprising as it was trying to his officers, -who knew that Kamal-ud-din’s hopes must be rising with every messenger -that reached him from Qadirabad. What could be more obvious than that -the Bahadar Jang was distracted by the necessity of holding so much -ground with such small numbers, that he durst not show his nose -outside his fortifications, and that an attack in force on any portion -of them must oblige him either to concentrate his entire strength in -its defence and abandon the rest, or to hold the whole so weakly that -it would fall an easy prey? Gloomy reports went round, leading to -gloomier prognostications. The right bank of the river was wholly -hostile. In the north the wild tribes were coming down from their -hills, like vultures lured by the hope of being in at the death of the -old lion. Down in the delta the wild tribes of the plains were waxing -bold--interfering with the _dâks_, raiding the outlying houses of -Bab-us-Sahel. The river itself might be considered safe wherever there -was water for the steamers, but beyond the range of their guns -Kamal-ud-din could do whatever he liked even on the left bank. He -would know of the reinforcements marching from Sahar--of course he -would swoop upon them from his desert eyrie and annihilate them by -sheer weight of numbers. - -“’Deed and y’are kindly welcome, as old Biddy used to say!” Eveleen -greeted her brother one afternoon. “Mr Ferrers and Sir Dugald Haigh -have been calling, and made me miserable entirely. Sir Dugald never -says anything, but he sits and looks so solemn you’d be certain things -were at their very worst. And Ferrers said any amount--that the -General had lost his opportunity once for all when he let Kamal-ud-din -escape and planted himself down here. But if only he was given the -chance, says he, he’d engage to beat up Kamal-ud-din’s headquarters -and bring him back prisoner, and so end the war at one blow.” - -“Lieutenant Ferrers is a very great officer,” said Brian sardonically, -“and if ’twas only his own life, and not the lives of other men and -horses, would pay the price, I’d like well to see him sent out on just -that easy bit of business. But we must hope to get rid of him cheaper -than that.” - -“Sure you may be as sarcastic as you please, but that don’t give me an -answer to hurl at the man. Here I am, knowing nothing but what he and -the rest say, and Ambrose looking virtuous and shocked when I ask him -will he tell me anything, and talking about matters of duty and -official secrets. Why, I believe the common soldiers know more of the -General’s plans than I do! Often I see a knot of them, and in the -middle his old helmet and Black Prince tossing his lovely little head, -and it don’t need to be a prophet to know they’re asking him all sorts -of questions, and he answering them as if he liked it.” - -“And you never asked a question in your life, and the old lad wouldn’t -like it if you did!” - -“That he would not--or at any rate, I’m on my best behaviour, and -trying not to tease him. Besides, wouldn’t I seem to be reflecting on -the state of his mind if I asked him did ever any General before lay -out a beautiful camp, and then move all his soldiers out of it into -the desert, and only leave the hospitals and the baggage and -headquarters and the prisoners and Ambrose and me inside?” - -“You can’t say you have no neighbours!” laughed Brian. “But see here, -Evie, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t know what he’s after. Now -then, let me think how can I wrap up the truth in an Oriental -apologue, so that any unauthorised listeners may be puzzled to find -it? Listen, now; will you think y’are an old lady, poor and proud, -like our cousin Gracia, living out Donnybrook way on her little bit of -an annuity?” Eveleen looked mystified, but nodded. “Well, then, she -has prosperous relatives living in Merrion Square--Counsellor Sullivan -and his lady,--and she likes greatly to keep up the family feeling. -But she has no money for coach-hire, and how would she walk all that -way, even if she wasn’t terrified her little house would be robbed -while she was gone? Will you tell me what she’d do?” - -“I’d say she’d ask them would they come and see her,” entering into -the spirit of the fable. - -“Just so. And you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d put forward what -attractions she could offer--to make it clear the favour was on her -side, and the Counsellor and his lady would be well repaid for their -long drive? The roses in her little bit of a garden would be at their -best, and she could give ’em such eggs as they’d never buy in Dublin, -and fresh cream from the farm over the way. Can’t you see the old lady -in her old worn satin gown and her cap with the smuggled lace, and how -she be worrying the girl she has, the way she wouldn’t know what she’d -be doing? ‘I’d have you recollect, Rose Ann, there’s nothing so -wonderful about Merrion Square. In my young days, ’twas company from -the Cass’le, no less, we’d be entertaining--the Lord and Lady -Lieutenant, and the grand ones they’d bring with ’em. Not that I have -anything to say against my cousin the Counsellor--I have the highest -respect for him and Mrs Sullivan,--but go out of my way to make any -difference for them is a thing I’d never do. They must take us as we -are, and just put up with what we are accustomed to,’ and she looks so -majestically at the girl she’d never dare remember all the polishing -up of the old silver, and the eggs and cream ordered, and the saffron -cakes bought at the shop. D’ye see then how old Gracia, because she -can’t get to Merrion Square herself, will make the Sullivans come out -to Donnybrook, and bear the fatigue and expense--such as it is? and -how she’ll make her preparations to entertain ’em in good time, while -pretending she’s doing nothing of the kind? and how she’ll cry ’em -down as very good sort of people and praise ’em up because they are -relatives of hers, all in the same breath?” - -“I do, I do!” cried Eveleen delightedly. “And Rose Ann understands -perfectly that though the Sullivans are no very great things, yet -she’ll bring eternal disgrace upon herself if she don’t treat them as -though they were. But your beloved charges, Brian--how will you bring -them in?” - -“My ‘interesting’ charges, as the General calls ’em?” said Brian -thoughtfully. “Well now, wouldn’t they be the jealous neighbours that -would be always on the look-out to drop hints to the Sullivans that -the creature fed every day on stirabout and potatoes, the same as Rose -Ann? and if they could make a mistake in the day, or manage to arrive -an hour too early, they’d catch her going about the house in her old -patched petticoat and print bed-gown? Then if the Sullivans were the -malicious sort of people that like to spring disagreeable surprises on -their friends--why, they’d do it.” - -“They would,” with conviction. “Ah, don’t you hope somebody of the -sort has been listening to us talking? There’s not much they could -make out of our tales of home. But I suppose I may ask you whether -your interesting charges have been more agreeable this two or three -days? It’s no secret to any one the way they behave.” - -“I believe you--except to us,” said Brian, with unusual bitterness. -“The fellows are worse than ever, I tell you--so cock-a-hoop their -bearing would show they were in correspondence with Kamal-ud-din and -counting on his success if there was nothing else. Tell you what, -Evie, that fellow Bayard--I know he’s your friend and Ambrose’s, but I -can’t help saying it--the fellow’s a fool. It’s a blessing he’s left -us to ourselves in despair, but I had a letter from him to-day from -Bab-us-Sahel, begging me for his sake to leave nothing undone that -could conduce to the comfort and honour of the Khans. And already they -have so much liberty they’re a danger as well as a nuisance.” - -“He’s such a faithful friend, don’t you know? He’ll never give them -up, however bad they are.” - -“Despite their ‘fatal step of taking up arms against the British -power,’ as he says. Well, we’ll all bear witness he did his best that -the step would be fatal to us instead! You know he persuaded the -General to allow ’em have their crowds of servants going freely in and -out--spies, of course, every man of ’em. ’Twas so impossible to keep -’em in any sort of control, that after remonstrating with their -masters in vain, at last I complained to the General, and he came to -point out they had no shadow of reason for entertaining such a crew. -Give you my word there were two hundred Arabits at least in the very -tent where we sat talking to the Khans--all pressing close upon us and -looking by no means pleasant. I confess it struck me that if they -chose to fall on us we’d have a mighty poor chance. And what d’ye -think Khair Husain had the impudence to say with a straight face? ‘Our -people? But we have only a few Hindus--not enough to cook our -victuals. Not an Arabit ever enters this garden.’ Now what could be -the object of telling a silly lie like that? If y’ask me, I’d say -’twas simply impudence, and it riled the General. He said pretty -sharply, ‘I won’t kill you as you’d have killed the English, but any -further complaints, and I’ll clap y’all in irons and send y’on board -a steamer!’ I wish he’d do it, too; I ain’t cut out for a jailer. They -know now they can’t bribe me, but that’s about all, and one of our -spies tells the General they please themselves with promising to cut -me into little bits, beginning with my fingers and toes, when -Kamal-ud-din comes. They’re a sweet lot, I tell you--able for -anything. Why, when the General got up in a rage, as I said just now, -and went out, who would come catching at his coat and whining to him -for protection but old Gul Ali? The poor old beggar’s baggage was all -lost at Mahighar, and he came to prison destitute, and destitute he -remains. There he stood out in the sun, while the rest sat in their -silken tent. They won’t give him food or clothes or money to buy ’em, -and he swears they mean him to starve to death. Of course he got -protection promised him--against his own brothers and nephews,--and -the General sent him in a tent and some things. That’s what the -fellows are--with jewels dropping from ’em whenever they move!” - -“Ah, those jewels! Did y’ever find out whether they put that bundle on -my dressing-table?” - -“I did. Ambrose thought I’d better nip any further attempts in the bud -by showing ’em this one had not come to anything, so one day when -Khair Husain seemed inclined to be confidential I broke the truth to -him. He was a good deal chagrined, but not a bit ashamed.” - -“But did he say what they had hoped I’d do?” - -“’Twas to secure your intercession with the General on behalf of their -zenanas, so he said. But can you believe a word they’d say?” - -“But I thought they had their zenanas with them?” - -“Their wives and mothers and aunts and daughters and sisters--every -conceivable sort of female relative--but not the slave-girls. The -place wouldn’t hold ’em.” - -“And they are allowed go back to their friends? That was one of the -things made Ferrers angry. He said the General let the women stay in -the Fort for days after the surrender, and there were hundreds of -armed men there as well, and they plundered nearly all the treasure.” - -“Well, what would y’have the poor old boy do? The armed men were there -to guard the zenana, and Bayard and all the old Indians were dinning -it into his ears that at the first sign of an attempt to expel ’em, -they’d cut all the women’s throats and fight their way out of the -city. They had to be got out of the Fort somehow, or there would have -been no room for a garrison; and besides, it was not safe to leave ’em -there uncontrolled. So he gave ’em three days, while he was collecting -camels and palanquins to carry the women to the other palaces outside -the city. He knew the ladies would get their fingers into the -treasury, but he thought ’twas only fair they would have something to -support themselves, as the Khans ain’t likely to be able to keep up -such an establishment in future, and what d’ye think we find now they -have walked off with? Two millions out of the three the Prize Agents -saw in the treasury the first day!” - -“No wonder the Khans are well off!” said Eveleen. - -“Ah, it’s not all got to them, by any manner of means. Case of finding -and keeping, I’d say. But it did sicken me to hear Bayard, when he was -starting off down the river after the hoisting of the flag on the -Fort, saying to the General, ‘Remember the Khans’ honour is bound up -in their womenfolk. Indulge their prejudices, I entreat you. Their -wives and daughters are as dear to them as yours to you.’ Half the -army believes that Bayard was bribed by the Khans, I may tell you, -because of all the delays he brought about. Of course we know that’s -great nonsense, but if I’d been the General I’d have knocked him in -the river for daring to mention those females in the same breath with -little Sally and her sister!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - PLUCK AND LUCK. - -/Nearly/ a month after the battle of Mahighar part of the load was -lifted from Sir Henry’s burdened mind by the Governor-General’s -ordering the annexation of Khemistan and the deportation of the Khans -to Bombay. Lord Maryport had not yet heard of the battle, but the -shuffling of the Khans over the treaty, and the attack on the Agency, -had convinced him that further delay was useless, and his action came -in time to diminish the General’s anxieties by allowing him to get rid -of his prisoners without fulfilling his threat to put them in irons. -There was a slight difference of opinion over their departure. The -Khans declared loudly that the Governor-General’s permission to take -with them into exile their families and servants included the -thousands of women for whom it had not been possible to find room in -the garden-palace. The ladies, on the other hand, having enquired -whether it was true that slavery was abolished under British rule, -flatly refused to go, and the General declined to compel them. Eveleen -triumphed ungenerously over Richard on the occasion. - -“Didn’t I tell you the creatures were carried away to the Fort against -their wills? and you declaring they liked it, and were provided for -for life!” - -“You forget, my dear, the conditions are altered. In the old days they -would have settled down happily, and never have dreamt of leaving the -palace.” - -“As if that made it any better! If they were Arabit women ’twould be -different--they’d have a right to go where their lords went. But these -poor Hindu and Khemi girls, stolen away against their wills and shut -up in the Fort, forbidden to see even their parents again on pain of -death--would you so much as _wish_ them to be happy?” - -“I fear my wishes would have precious little weight with ’em, my -dear--as sometimes happens with another lady. But ain’t you satisfied -now they are all at liberty to return to the parental roof? and I -trust they’ll enjoy the change!” - -“And why wouldn’t they? when each has got her little property to keep -her till she can make her arrangements? I’m glad Sir Harry saw to it -they wouldn’t be left destitute.” - -“That they certainly were not, but I admire your unselfishness, since -their gains have all come out of the prize-money we ought to have -had.” - -“Ah, y’old money-grubber!” said Eveleen affectionately. “It’s as bad -as the General y’are, when he says he don’t mind how long Kamal-ud-din -hangs off and on without attacking, because he’s spending all his -money feeding his followers, and when it’s gone they’ll forsake him.” - -“Precisely the sort of thing the General would say to you.” - -The hint of superiority was intolerable. “And pray what does he say to -you, Major Ambrose, that y’are so high and mighty about it?” - -“Accept my apologies, my dear. I assure you I was not alluding to any -confidential information imparted to me.” - -“Then what were y’alluding to?” - -“Mrs Ambrose, cross-examiner! Simply to the fact which the General is -kind enough to leave out of sight when he seeks to raise your spirits, -that though a certain amount of delay on Kamal-ud-din’s part may be of -service to us in allowing our reinforcements to come up, yet too much -of it will bring into the field against us an enemy far more deadly -than any of the Khans--the hot weather.” - -“But sure Sir Harry was counting up all the reasons he has for being -thankful for the delay!” - -“To reassure you, as I say. But believe me, the thought of the hot -weather harasses him day and night. What could we do here, unable to -march, with the river in flood, and the prevalence of sickness usual -at that season? He has succeeded to a marvel in alluring the enemy -from his fastnesses, whither we could not pursue him, and in keeping -him amused in the prospect of overcoming our weakness with ease as -soon as he tires of playing with us as a cat plays with a mouse. But -that ain’t success as the people of this country understand it. They -may hate Kamal-ud-din, with his horde of plundering Arabits sweeping -off their cattle, and his design of re-establishing the late tyranny -with himself as sole tyrant, but their main concern is to preserve -their own lives and as much of their property as they can. They have -hailed us as liberators, but when they see Kamal-ud-din’s rascals, -encamped only five miles from our entrenchments, driving off our -camels as they graze, while we don’t raise a finger to prevent ’em, -it’s enough to set ’em thinking whether it ain’t time to turn against -us.” - -“And if they do?” - -“Then it will be Ethiopia over again.” - -“My dear Ambrose, d’ye think the General don’t know that as well as -you do?” - -Richard spoke rather stiffly. “I am sure of it. Possibly I may have -wished to know whether you realised the situation.” - -“I’m greatly obliged to you! Why not say at once you wanted to make my -flesh creep? You forget, sir, y’are speaking to a female that had the -honour of being present at the battle of Mahighar, when the Arabit -chivalry, springing from its lair armed to the teeth, was hurled back -in reluctant defeat by the might of British courage and endurance.” -Her husband’s lips relaxed in an unwilling smile, for she was -imitating the General in those moments when he indulged in what people -of his day called admiringly “elevated language.” The present -degenerate age would stigmatise it as “hot air” or “gas,” and ask -kindly whether the poor old man was feeling quite well. - -“Present in spirit, certainly. Yes, I had forgotten I was speaking to -such a heroine. Renewed apologies!” - -“Ah now, don’t tease! Just tell me, then, what’s the worst you -expect?” - -“The worst that might happen?” Eveleen’s eyes danced as she noticed -that he altered the wording of her question. “All the spies tell us -Kamal-ud-din’s design is to attack the Fort in such strength that the -General must leave his camp undefended in order to succour the -garrison, and thus lose the hospitals and baggage, even if he beats -off the assault.” - -“Well, then, you won’t make me believe Sir Harry is going to walk into -that trap! Tell me something worse.” - -“If Kamal-ud-din is anything of a commander, and seriously desires to -embarrass us, he has only to fall on Rickmer marching from Sahar. The -General must endeavour to relieve him, and the farther off the action -takes place the more unprotected he must leave things here--absolutely -open to an attack from a second Arabit force. Why the Khan hasn’t -attacked Rickmer already is a thing that puzzles me. One might almost -believe he had little stomach for the fight. How is it he don’t see -he’s playing the General’s game?” - -“So there’s more method in Sir Harry’s madness than you’d allow just -now? Sure you’ve forgot which side y’are arguing on! But I hear the -horses coming round. Have you time to ride with me this evening?” - -“If I may have the honour.” - -“Ah, then, don’t be making fun of your old wife!” and Eveleen pulled -his hair as she passed him. He looked after her with resigned -amusement. She was like an indiarubber ball; nothing would crush her. -Well, at any rate no one could say she was not happy. He had done his -duty by her, in spite of those two or three embarrassing outbursts -when her loudly asserted misery had made him doubt the wisdom of his -action. For all her years, she was a child still, with a child’s -sudden and unreasoning joy and sorrow, and a child she would remain. -Now that he realised this, he knew what his own part must be--always a -satisfaction to a man of his orderly, steady-going type of mind. Yes, -that must be why he had found the path of duty easier to tread of late -than when he had first brought his wife to Khemistan--he was getting -used to it. - -As they rode down to the flats by the river, they were joined by -Brian--now released from his hated attendance on the Khans, who had -been put in charge of a senior officer for their voyage to -Bab-us-Sahel and thence to Bombay. He was bubbling over with delight. - -“This is grand!” he cried. “Come with me and we’ll follow in the -General’s footsteps. If we haunt the old boy faithfully, I’ll show you -something worth seeing.” - -“Anything new?” asked Richard. - -“Rayther! Vakils with a letter from Kamal-ud-din--what d’ye think of -that? They were fools enough to let it be known they were come to -offer us terms of surrender, and when they arrived the General was -‘not at home.’ He had started on his evening ride, but if you’ll -believe me--’twas a curious thing--he left word he’d be passing the -Headquarters Mess about sunset. So they are to meet him there, and if -we happen to find ourselves in the neighbourhood about the same -time--well, the old lad has a tasty way of staging his scenes -sometimes.” - -Such an intimation was not to be disregarded, and by a pure -coincidence the General had an audience of some size when he came -suddenly upon the waiting ambassadors, and learned their errand. -Receiving the letter at their hands, he gave it to Richard to read, -remarking that it was convenient he should happen to be there. “Aloud, -if you please,” he added. - -The messengers clustered together a little more closely, as though for -mutual support, as Richard ran his eye over the elaborate and -inevitable compliments occupying the first part of the epistle. There -was a look about them as of naughty boys--bold yet frightened--as he -reached the business part. “I am to read his Highness’s letter aloud, -sir?” he asked. “Then this is what he suggests--you are to be free to -quit Khemistan with you troops and baggage, on condition of liberating -the Khans now in captivity, and restoring the occupied territory and -towns, and all spoil of every kind.” - -A murmur of indignation rose and swelled among the European part of -the group, but the General held up his hand for silence. Into the -silence there came the heavy boom of the evening gun from the Fort. -Sir Harry laughed. “There! d’ye hear that?” he said. “That’s my -answer. Be off with it to your master!” and off the messengers went, -hardly waiting for the words to be translated into Persian. - -“Now Rickmer will have to look out for himself; or rather, we must -look out for him,” said the General. “Kamal-ud-din has had a nasty -snub, and in his naughty pride he will do his best to pay me back. -Methinks it will cool his hot blood a little if we explore towards him -to-morrow, and display an impolite curiosity as to the disposition of -his forces.” - -The “exploration”--which would now be called a reconnaissance in -force--was carried out on three successive days, the General moving -out with cavalry and guns in such warlike array that any young -commander might have been excused for expecting an immediate assault. -It was clear that Kamal-ud-din thought so, for he acted according to -his lights in calling in his stragglers and raiding parties and -waiting to be attacked. He was not attacked, but the General was able -to get a very fair idea of the strong positions he had prepared. The -secondary object of tempting him out into the open in order to -ascertain his strength was not attained, but a far more important one -was. It was three days before Kamal-ud-din realised that he had been -kept so busy and so much interested in front that Colonel Rickmer and -the Sahar column had got up behind him within two or three marches of -the General. Thereupon he decided to treat frontal demonstrations with -contempt in future, and take strong measures on his own account in his -rear. - -On the evening of the day of the third reconnaissance, the General was -giving a dinner-party. It was clear by this time that Kamal-ud-din had -perceived the real nature of the entertainment devised for his -benefit, for the spies brought word that a large body of his men had -marched into the desert in a north-easterly direction, evidently with -the intention of making a circuit and falling upon Colonel Rickmer’s -column from an unexpected quarter. It was an anxious moment for Sir -Harry--not merely on the column’s account, but on his own. Until -Colonel Rickmer arrived, he had merely the less than three thousand -men of Mahighar--their numbers now sadly diminished by casualties and -sickness, as well as by the necessity of furnishing a garrison for the -Fort and guards for the camp and for the Khans on their voyage. True, -victory was possible even with this remnant--he would have knocked any -man down for denying it,--but the prudence which was so curiously -blended with his rashness made him loath to contemplate fighting -without the help of the northern column. The other reinforcements -coming by water might almost safely be discounted, for they could not -be expected for five days or even a week. Therefore the situation was -critical in the extreme, and because the General knew it, and knew -that his army knew it, and knew that the enemy must at least guess it, -he invited his officers to dinner to celebrate one of the Duke of -Wellington’s victories in the Peninsular War. He remembered and -observed them all religiously, as he did everything connected with his -old chief, but otherwise it is to be feared that few in camp could -have told when or where the battle of Tarbes was fought. The -increasing heat of the weather had obliged Sir Harry to give up his -favourite habit of eating and doing business in the open air, and the -_burra khana_ took place in a large double tent, its magnificent -lining of brocaded silk showing that it was part of the spoil taken -from the Khans. The table furniture was unchanged, however, consisting -of contributions from the Headquarters Mess and the canteens of the -staff. Above the General’s place simpered the portrait of the girl -Queen which had once hung in the reception-room in the Fort. By day it -was covered with a curtain--because, said Sir Harry, servants and -common people must not look upon the royal features--and exhibited -only as a high honour to loyal chiefs. - -Eveleen, as the only lady present, was handed gallantly to the seat on -the General’s right, and the meal had not been long in progress before -she saw Richard, who was nearly opposite, receive a whispered message -from his servant and leave the table quietly. It was his duty to -translate or decode any messages that might arrive, and she was not -surprised when presently he reappeared at Sir Harry’s elbow, and -handed him a small piece of tissue paper, creased as though it had -been rolled up lengthways very small. As the General took it up, she -saw that there were two of these pieces of paper, both covered with -writing. - -“From Colonel Rickmer, General, brought in a quill by a _cossid_ of -Colonel Welborne’s,” murmured Richard. Colonel Welborne was in modern -phrase Director of Intelligence, organising the elaborate system of -espionage and counter-espionage on which so much depended. - -“And enclosing a message from Welborne, I see. Why, what’s this?” Sir -Harry’s growl of rage startled the table, and the diners who had been -politely pretending not to notice what was passing looked at him -quickly. He pulled himself together in an instant, and laughed -harshly. - -“See here, gentlemen; this is good, ain’t it? Poor Rickmer desires me -to tell him what on earth he is to do, for Welborne sends him word, -‘For God’s sake, halt! You will be attacked to-morrow by forty -thousand men at least. Entrench yourself until the General can arrive -to your relief.’ Is he to halt or not, he asks me, since I have sent -him no orders to that effect. Here’s my answer--a pencil, Ambrose.” He -turned the note over and wrote in his sprawling characters on the -back, “‘Welborne’s men are all in buckram. Come on.’ Be good enough to -have that sent off at once. How does it strike you, gentlemen?” - -A roar of laughter went round the table, and if the General had wished -to punish Colonel Welborne for his hesitancy in charging at Mahighar, -he must have felt that he was avenged when he heard the jokes and -quips levelled at the unfortunate man throughout the rest of the meal. -Moreover, every man present would impart the jest to others, and the -camp as well as the tent would quickly be ringing with the news of -Welborne’s nervousness and the General’s drastic treatment of it. But -though he laughed with the rest, he found a moment to growl to Eveleen -under cover of the talk-- - -“By no means sure Welborne ain’t correct. But he had no business to -tell Rickmer. I’m looking after him--watching Kamal-ud-din as a cat -watches a mouse. What reason has he for funk? Long before the Arabits -could walk over him I should be upon their rear.” - -That he meant what he said was clear the next morning, when Captain -Stewart rode out with a squadron of native cavalry, under orders to -skirt round the enemy’s position and join Colonel Rickmer. If the -enemy came out in force to prevent him, he was to send back a message -at once, when the General would march to his assistance with horse, -foot, and guns. In any case Colonel Rickmer was to be informed that -Sir Henry would meet him on the morrow on the field of Mahighar--where -nothing would induce the Arabits to tempt fortune a second time--and -escort him into camp. - -To every one’s astonishment this promise was kept to the letter, -though--as Brian told his sister--the column commander had lost his -head to such an extent that he might have been asking to be -annihilated. Probably Colonel Welborne’s message persisted in -recurring to his mind, despite the General’s cavalier comment, for his -one idea seemed to be to get into safety with a run. He had brought -with him from Sahar the women and children of his brigade, and a mass -of baggage that would have made Sir Harry tear his hair, and how they -had managed to get so far was a mystery. - -“Stewart says the fellow might have intended all the time making a -present of ’em to Kamal-ud-din,” said Brian--“like the Russian chap -that dropped his children out of the sledge to divert the attention of -the wolves from himself. There was the whole caravan strung out over -the desert, straggling at its own sweet will, and Rickmer miles away -in front, swearing at his drivers to hurry, for all the world as -though he had been badly beat and was trying to get his guns off the -field. Happily the enemy was a good match to him for foolishness, for -one detachment only--just one--of Arabits turned up and began to be -nasty when Stewart was trying to get the stragglers into line and -protect their rear. When they opened a matchlock fire on the women and -baggage, he thought it was getting beyond a joke, and sent an express -to beg Rickmer to detach a troop for the rear. He had only six sowars -with him--the rest were guarding the flanks,--but he charged with ’em -and drove off the Arabits. Of course they came back when they saw they -had him unsupported, and ’twas near an hour before the cavalry he had -asked for turned up, bringing the cheerful news that Rickmer was still -pushing hard for Qadirabad--he’d cot sight of the tower of the Fort, -and it drew him like a magnet, you might say,--leaving the baggage and -the non-combatants to look after themselves. Stewart’s blood was -up--d’ye wonder?--and he told his horsemen to do their best while he -went hell-for-leather after Rickmer, and found him uncommonly busy and -excited getting his guns over a nullah. There was some plain speaking, -I gather--I wonder now was there just a scrap or two of language -unbecoming in a junior officer to his superior in rank?--and Stewart -got two field-pieces, and galloped back with ’em helter-skelter. A few -shots drove off the Arabits, and what was better, the sound reached -the General and brought us all out to the rescue; we met Rickmer’s -galloper on the way with the news he was attacked--but if Kamal-ud-din -and his chiefs were not the most incapable set of muffs that ever had -the cheek to stand up to a British army, Rickmer would be eternally -disgraced--and rightly.” - -Kamal-ud-din’s extraordinary failure to seize his opportunity was the -talk of the camp that evening. The general opinion was that the young -Khan shared the weakness of his elders for intoxicating drugs, and was -incapable of giving orders at the moment, whilst his subordinates -durst not act without them; but Sir Harry had found an explanation far -more to his taste. - -“It was chivalry--pure chivalry!” he told Eveleen, in all seriousness. -“The spies tell me that as soon as he heard there were European women -and children with the column he called off his troops and -countermanded the attack which had been ordered. He said the Bahadar -Jang had treated the Khans’ women with consideration, and he would -treat the Feringhee women the same.” - -“But sure he did attack,” objected Eveleen. - -“That was a body of horse that had already started--not his fault. A -fine fellow that--a young man after my own heart. It does one good to -be able to respect one’s enemy--as we did in the Peninsula, where the -British soldier thought far more of his French opponents than of his -bloodthirsty and treacherous allies.” - -“And did the Spaniards know what you thought of them?” It seemed to -Eveleen that this attitude must have led to difficulties. - -“They couldn’t very well help it. We had trouble with ’em now and -then. But how did it matter what they thought? We turned Napoleon out -for ’em, worse luck!” - -“I wonder are all allies so trying to the people that are helping -them?” Eveleen spoke feelingly, for she had been doing her best to -help the ladies from Sahar to settle down after their long march and -final exciting experience, and they did not seem to her to be properly -grateful. She did not realise that it was highly disconcerting to -ladies of higher military rank to find “that Mrs Ambrose” established -in the best set of rooms in the Residency--their wrath was not -mollified by the explanation that it had been her home when her -husband was Assistant to Colonel Bayard,--while they were relegated to -less imposing apartments, or quartered in the garden-palace lately -vacated by the Khans. Everything was in such a bad state of repair, -too--with shot-holes in the walls very imperfectly patched up, and -roofs far from water-tight,--and there were no European comforts to be -had. It seemed to Eveleen that these good ladies thought considerably -more about their furniture and food than about the impending crisis, -and they declared that no one but a wild Irishwoman could have -expected them to settle down contentedly amid such surroundings. To -crown their misdeeds, they observed sympathetically, one after the -other, that Richard was not looking at all well, and that men of his -complexion were always the first to be affected by the sun. They -followed this up by a recital of the precautions with which they -pursued their own husbands--with the obvious implication that Mrs -Ambrose was sadly lacking in this respect,--and when Eveleen replied -with a furious denunciation of coddling, they shook their heads with a -pleased solemnity that could only mean, “Just as I thought!” She -relinquished her self-imposed duty at last in a huff, and during the -evening--with natural inconsistency--tormented Richard, who had work -to do, with sudden enquiries whether he was certain he really felt -quite well. - -In the morning she had forgotten her anxieties, and when Richard -returned from office, was far more concerned to know whether the -General was intending to review the newly arrived troops--which he -could not tell her. They were breakfasting on the verandah, and as -Eveleen expressed somewhat vigorously her opinion of people who could -hear and remember everything but what was interesting, there came from -the big _shamiana_ opposite such a shout as made them both jump up and -run to the steps. The General and his aides were rushing out--one man -had still his fork in his hand,--snatching up any hats or caps -available, and making for the cliff overlooking the river. Brian had -the grace to tarry long enough to call out “Boats!” and Eveleen, -always ready for any excitement, whether she understood its nature or -not, promptly ran down after them. Richard came after her, and -presented her reprovingly with her sun-hat, which she accepted without -gratitude, since his forethought obliged her to stop and put it on. -Arriving panting at the head of the path, she looked down the river, -like all the rest. There was still a broad expanse of dry sandy ground -below, but the channel was a little wider than on the day when the -_Asteroid_ and the _Nebula_ had carried the besieged garrison into -safety, for the snows were just beginning to melt on the Roof of the -World. Up the channel from the direction of Bab-us-Sahel boats were -coming, one after the other, their gunwales lined with scarlet-coated -men who waved their caps and cheered as they saw the figures on the -cliff. The General and his staff responded as joyfully as boys. - -“The boats! the boats! the reinforcements from Bombay!” everybody -called out to everybody else, and people began to run together from -all parts of the camp. But while nearly all eyes were fixed on the -boats coming up from the left hand, Frederick Lennox was looking -fixedly in exactly the opposite direction, over the scrubby jungle -which covered the low-lying land on the right. - -“Hillo!” he said presently, then touched his uncle on the arm. “D’ye -see those masts, sir? What can they be?” - -The General looked and looked again, unable to believe his eyes. “As -I’m a sinful man, the reinforcements by water from Sahar!” he cried. -“Was ever anything so neat? ’Pon my honour, I’d march against Napoleon -and the Grand Army now!” - -“Really the old boy’s luck is positively amazing!” said Brian, as Sir -Harry went a little way down the path to feast his eyes on the -approaching craft. “Give you my word, he was in the very act of -saying, ‘Now if only my reinforcements from Bombay and Sahar would -come in! But that can’t be for a week at least, and I won’t let this -chap bully me within five miles of my camp all that time, so Rickmer’s -brigade must do my business.’ The words would hardly be out of his -mouth when Stewart, who was sitting where he could see out of the tent -door, called out, ‘There are boats--look!’ and we all tore out of the -place as you saw us. Sure the General will be as happy now as the day -is long--only the day won’t be half long enough for all he’ll want to -be doing.” - -Never, surely, had even Sir Harry, that champion hustler, put in such -a day’s work. The new troops were out of their boats before they knew -they had arrived, and the General was inspecting them and gloating -over the howitzers and other war material they brought with them. A -host of coolies was at work pitching their tents while they enjoyed an -afternoon’s rest under the trees of the Khans’ garden, and then came -combined manœuvres, in which the new arrivals and Colonel Rickmer’s -force were brigaded with the General’s original troops, and ordered -about and handled by the redoubtable veteran until they began to know -their places and his methods. When they were at last dismissed to -their well-earned repose, the General’s day was not done. Vakils had -again arrived from Kamal-ud-din, and at his command been given a place -whence they could see all the movements of the troops, then taken up -and down the lines and bidden look well at everything, and finally -dismissed with the order to go and tell their master all they had -seen. But they were reluctant to depart, and reinforced by the young -Khan’s Diwan or Chief Minister, who arrived late at night, they sat on -the ground in Sir Harry’s tent, and talked and talked. This time it -was his turn to offer Kamal-ud-din his life, and his chiefs their -possessions, if they surrendered unconditionally on the morrow, but -they were no more prepared to accept such terms than he had been. It -was obvious they were trying to find out all they could, for they -stayed on though there was nothing more to say, and started fresh -quibbles whenever they were given leave to depart, until the General, -his Munshi, and Richard Ambrose were all worn out with parrying their -various questions. It was two in the morning before Sir Harry -succeeded in inducing them to accept his dismissal as genuine, and -they were ceremoniously escorted out. The General was wrapping his old -cloak about him as Richard returned. - -“I suppose they thought they would finish me with fatigue,” he -grumbled. “This sort of thing tells on a man of sixty-one. Two hours’ -sleep, Ambrose. Lie down anywhere and don’t waste any of it. We march -at four.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - THE SECOND ROUND. - -/It/ seemed only natural to Eveleen, who had learnt the hour of the -start from Brian, to bind Ketty by promises and threats to wake her at -half-past three, so that she was able not merely to ply Richard with -coffee and sandwiches--an attention he received with tolerance rather -than enthusiasm,--but to ride a short way with the army on its march. -Unfortunately Richard did not take the same view. He was not going to -be made a fool of before the new reinforcements by his wife’s sticking -to him as if he was not to be trusted out by himself! Eveleen looked -at him critically. - -“Sure y’have got up too early, Ambrose, and your temper is spoilt for -the day! It’s Brian I’ll ride with, don’t be afraid, and you can be -cross all to yourself.” - -“D’ye think I don’t know you have set your heart on emulating Lady -Cinnamond by riding in the ranks, Mrs Ambrose? But this ain’t -Salamanca, and I ain’t old Cinnamond. I tell you plainly I won’t have -it.” - -“Wouldn’t you better wait till y’are asked?” sweetly. - -Richard snorted furiously. “Well, just understand this, if you please. -If you attempt it, I’ll go sick and come straight back, rather than -look like a figure of fun before the whole army.” - -“Indeed and you have got your way now. Will I let my husband shame -himself and me, and fail the General? Make your mind easy; I’ll not -come. But listen now; my mind is easy too. I might have been afraid -for y’if y’had started out this morning like a decent reasonable man, -but now y’are so cross I need have no fear at all that anything will -happen you.” - -This assurance failed to mollify Richard to any particular extent, and -he took his leave of her with distinct coldness. Nor was he specially -pleased, when the force was at length in motion, marching eastwards -through a blind maze of wooded nullahs and _shikargahs_ cut up by -canals, in which the whole enemy army might have been concealed close -at hand, to hear Brian laugh suddenly, and on looking up to see -Eveleen sitting on her horse on a hillock which commanded some -approach to a view. She leaned forward eagerly and waved her -handkerchief as they passed beneath her, and the General saluted and -shook his fist at her in the same breath. It was to please Richard -that she turned and rode back to camp as soon as the staff had gone -by, but the ungrateful Richard, having saluted with extreme stiffness, -was unaware of her consideration, since he refused to look at her -again. Sir Harry and the rest thought he was anxious lest she might -fall into the hands of the enemy--for the spies had brought word that -Kamal-ud-din had moved from the position reconnoitred three days ago, -and might be lying in wait in this tangle of woods and ravines, -instead of waiting at his old headquarters to be attacked,--and tried -to console him with assurances that, much as she deserved it, nothing -worse was likely to happen to her, even if the Arabit scouts did -appear, than a good fright. Sir Harry’s force, numbering five thousand -men, was double that which he had led to victory at Mahighar, and he -had been able to leave eight hundred to guard the camp and five -hundred in garrison in the Fort, so that Kamal-ud-din would certainly -keep his men well together, and not allow desultory raiding. But had -Eveleen known what the General learned from a herdsman after a weary -march of some miles, she might have had the fright Brian kindly -desired for her. Kamal-ud-din had moved, not towards his original -position, but towards Qadirabad, so that he was now on the left rear -of the column, and threatening not only its communications, but also -the city and the camp. But since she did not know, she was not -alarmed, and unaware that the column had turned aside at right angles -from its first line of march, only wondered, when the boom of the guns -began, that the sound should seem so near. - -She wandered about the house restlessly all morning, trying to guess -at the changing course of the battle by the varying cannonade, and -sorely tempted to ride out again and find her way to the hospital -tents, that she might be as close to the fighting as she had been at -Mahighar. Now and then an officer passed, from whom she learned that -the battle was certainly taking place well to the north of the -General’s line of march, but that there was no sign of the attack on -the city which had been anticipated for the same moment. Tired out -with anxiety, she sat down wearily at last on the verandah, looking -out over the wooded country, and distinguishing in impossible places -clouds of smoke that could only come from the guns. Then at last her -waiting was rewarded, for two men rode into the compound--Brian, a -gruesome figure in aggressive bandages and a deeply stained coat, and -a native orderly who was keeping so close at hand as to suggest he had -been supporting him on his horse. Eveleen dashed out--hatless, of -course, but happily by this time there was shade on this side of the -house. - -“Brian, what’s happened you? Is it wounded y’are?” - -“Not a bit of it.” Brian grinned languidly from the saddle. “Pricked -my finger, that’s all.” - -“Ah then, don’t try to tease now! Will I bring a chair to help you get -down?” - -“You will _not_. Go in and get a nice comfortable chair ready for me, -and Nizam Ali will help me get to it. And--I say--salts or something!” - -That this last request was a heartless ruse on Brian’s part to get her -out of the way while he was helped down and into the house was clear -to her when she heard him whistling “Jim Crow” as she rummaged for the -salts, and on returning breathless found him established in a long -chair and again grinning. He rewarded her efforts so far as to take a -tremendous sniff at the salts and declare that he was “kilt,” even -before he thanked and dismissed the trooper, and then lay back in the -chair and laughed quietly. - -“Oughtn’t you go to bed, Brian?” asked Eveleen anxiously. - -“Not dis nigger. Why, d’ye think I’d be here but that my old lad said -I was making too much mess of his nice clean battlefield, and ordered -me off? The sawbones who tied me up wanted to put me in a doolie, -regardless of the other poor chaps waiting, but I says in my best -English History manner, ‘Brother,’ says I, ‘their need is greater than -mine,’ beckoned to Nizam Ali, and came away on my own four -feet--leastways on little Bawn’s. And here I am.” - -“I’m sure y’are over-excited. Y’oughtn’t be talking so much. Brian!” a -horrible suspicion darting into her mind--“what about Ambrose?” - -“Riding hard, when I saw him last, with a message from the General to -the cavalry not to chase the enemy too far, lest they’d be cut off -before the infantry could come up.” - -“Then ’twas another victory?” - -“Will you listen to the woman! Another victory? Of course it is--as -big as Mahighar, if not bigger. But it’s got to have a name found for -it, for did y’ever hear of such a name for a victory as Mussuck?” - -“Mussuck? There’s some little bit of a village called that, I -remember. So ’twas there you fought? But sure you were all going quite -wrong when I saw you, then.” - -“And would have done, but for a decent man minding cattle, who saved -us a big disappointment, and Kamal-ud-din a big triumph. We had to -turn almost straight back and march full two miles before we found him -in the position he’d prepared for himself.” - -“The one you explored the other day?” - -“No, much nearer the city. Didn’t I tell ye ’twas at Mussuck? Place -very like Mahighar. ‘Not much originality about _them_?’ says the -General. Same little river, even--except that it had a bit of water in -it by now, not just mud,--but farther down, of course, and ’twas on -our left instead of across our front. It was two nullahs they had -chosen for stopping us this time--one behind the other, tremendous -places; _shikargahs_ to right and left, village behind the left one, -as per usual. Nullahs scarped everywhere, and every scrap of jungle -and cover cleared away in front, of course, to give ’em a clear field -of fire. They do know their business, those chaps, if they can find -the place to suit ’em. Some fellow said he saw a European among ’em, -but that ain’t like----” - -“Now oughtn’t you be quiet and rest a little? I love to hear about it, -but I’m afraid----” - -“You needn’t be that. Why wouldn’t I get it clear in my own mind? We -had a bit of a check just at first, for after all the jungle and the -nullahs we’d been traversing, the army came out on the plain a good -deal mixed up, and the General had to go from regiment to regiment -straightening ’em out, instead of reconnoitring as he did at Mahighar. -That might have done for us, for Keeling, who was exploring under -fire, couldn’t get near enough to make certain how things lay. Somehow -we all had the notion that the village behind the enemy’s right wasn’t -held--the spies swore it. And what seemed to show they were -concentrated on their left was that men would keep on running out from -the edge of the wood there, take a good look at us, and run back -again--we could see ’em through our glasses. What would be more -natural than that they’d have an ambush there, as they did before, but -without any wall to keep ’em from coming out and falling on us? So the -General avoided that side, meaning to give ’em a good run under fire -across the cleared space before they could reach us. Through an -opening in the trees beyond the two nullahs, we could see the Arabits -in great numbers hurrying to their right, and it looked for all the -world as though the same idea had come to them and the General at the -same moment--each determined to rush the village before t’other side -could get there. But it was a trap again, though a different kind of -one. They had the place packed with men already, and the men that were -running were only in support. Eleven guns they brought to bear on us, -and before ours could get into position to reply, our line wavered a -bit, but there was never anything like falling back. The queer thing -was that the moment we stuck, off went our cavalry on the right in a -tremendous charge straight at the wood. Whether Keeling and Rickmer -had taken to heart the General’s remarks on the slackness of the -Bengallers at Mahighar, and thought he was in straits again and now -was their time I don’t know, but ’twas the finest sight I ever saw. -They plunged right down the nullahs and up again, all shouting their -war-cries, and we stood staring after ’em till the red turbans and the -gleaming swords were lost in the trees. If the wood had been held as -we thought, ’twould have been madness and destruction, that charge, -but ’twas not, and seeing the enemy as confounded as ourselves, the -General rallied the infantry and led ’em on. I give you my word not a -man faltered. The Queen’s --th led, as was their right after Mahighar, -and they marched straight up to the entrenchments as steady as on -parade. The Arabits tried to jump out on us with a howl, as they did -that first time, but ’twas a mighty poor imitation. ’Twas our men -jumped down among them instead, and we had a hand-to-hand fight all -along that nullah and the next. We had ’em much more at our mercy this -time--if you can call it that when they must have been six times our -numbers,--for Keeling and Rickmer were pressing ’em from the right, -and as fast as they got out of the nullah and ran for their lives, -they only ran into the arms of the rest of our cavalry, which had -skirted round the _shikargah_ on the left, and was waiting to receive -’em and turn ’em back. We had a frightful time in the village, -clearing ’em out of every house in turn, for they fought like tigers, -and of course our guns could do nothing for fear of hurting us.” - -“And would that be where you were wounded?” - -“Just outside it. Chap made a cut at me wrong way about--up instead of -down--nasty sort of blow. If it hadn’t been that I got in my cut at -the same minute, and spoiled the force of his--well, the old man’s -despatches would have regretted the loss of another promising young -officer. So you were very near rid of me, don’t you know?” - -“Ah now, don’t, then! I can’t bear to think of it. How do any of -y’ever come out alive? Y’are sure”--with a break in her voice--“that -Ambrose was safe after that?” - -“Didn’t I say so? Keeling sent back a message to the General that he -had cot sight of Kamal-ud-din’s elephant, and was going to pursue him -to Umarganj if necessary, and the old man sent Ambrose to catch him up -and see what direction he was taking. Couldn’t have the Khemistan -Horse lost in the desert and perhaps cut off, you see.” - -“There, now! your voice is quite weak and shaky, and it’s my fault for -letting you talk so much. I wish Sir Harry would come--sure he’d soon -send you to bed.” - -“He may not come back at all to-night--that’s why I’d so greatly have -liked to stay on the field. If he finds there’s reason to hope -Kamal-ud-din ain’t got very far, he’ll risk everything to catch him -and end the war at one blow, if I know him. But if he’s taken to the -desert, then it’s a case of rest for the troops before they can push -on farther.” - -But Sir Harry did return that evening, though only for an hour. The -joyful shouts of the soldiers in the camp heralded his appearance, and -he rode into the compound looking very old and bent. After a word or -two to the Munshi salaaming respectfully at the door of the great -tent, he came across at once to the Residency. - -“And what d’ye think of this fellow, ma’am?” he demanded of Eveleen as -Brian staggered to his feet and supported himself by one of the -verandah pillars. “No thanks to him that you have got him back safe, I -can tell you! I found him riding furiously all over the battlefield, -bleeding like a pig, looking for some other village to give its name -to the day, because he wouldn’t have it put on his tombstone that he -was mortally wounded at the battle of Mussuck!” - -“And did he find one?” asked Eveleen, rather absently. It might have -been that the coarseness of the General’s language--so unheard-of when -speaking to a lady--betrayed unusual turmoil in his mind, or--had she -really caught him trying to signal to Brian unperceived? - -“Not the ghost of one! To get him to go home quietly, I had to decree -that it should be for ever called the battle of Qadirabad, and he -promised me to die happy on that condition.” - -“Sir Harry!” her voice was sharp. “Y’are not here to cut jokes about -Brian. There’s something wrong with Ambrose. What’s happened him?” - -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, what should make you imagine----?” - -“Will you tell me what it is? Is he--is he----?” - -“No, he ain’t,” said Sir Harry gruffly--“if you mean dead--nor even -wounded. He had a slight sunstroke, but happily a surgeon was at hand -to bleed him, and he is recovering his senses in due course.” - -Eveleen put her hand to her head. “But the sun is not hot yet--to -speak of,” she said in a puzzled voice. - -“He had fever on him this morning, it seems. It was a foolish business -his setting out to ride all day in that state, but nobly foolish. You -must be proud of him.” - -“’Twas my fault--I ought have seen it--begged him to remain behind. I -noticed he was cr--unlike himself.” - -“Sure if that was the way of it, he’d have gone all the more, the more -you begged him,” said Brian, trying rather unsuccessfully to improve -matters. She looked at him as though she had not heard him. - -“It’s my fault, I tell you. And now he’s sick, and away from me. Sir -Harry, you’ll let me----” - -“I won’t let you go to seek him, ma’am, for he’s coming to you, as -fast as a Medical Department palanquin can bring him. We are encamped -on the battlefield, but the wounded must return hither, that the -hospital establishment may follow the army. So your mind may be at -rest as far as that’s concerned.” - -“Y’are very good, Sir Harry. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see -everything is ready for him.” - -“Why, Evie, he’ll not be here for hours yet!” remonstrated Brian, but -the General signed to him to be silent. - -“Do, ma’am, do! Can’t make too much of our brave fellows, can we? I -must be off too.” - -“But not without some refreshment.” Her hospitable instincts prevailed -even at this moment of desolation. “Brian, bid the servants bring some -food for the General, will you not?” - -“Only too thankful to avoid transporting my rheumatic old carcase -across the compound again before it’s necessary,” said Sir Harry, when -Brian had summoned the butler and given him orders. “I have bid Munshi -get the office establishment on the march, for I must have ’em with me -since I’m deprived of poor Ambrose.” - -“He ain’t worse than y’have allowed my sister believe, General?” with -sudden anxiety. - -“No, but it’ll be a long business, I fear. To ride at all was bad -enough, but to accept that chase across country after Keeling was pure -madness. Had I had the slightest notion----! But there you are. I came -across two of the Queen’s --th as I left the battlefield--one crouched -almost double by the roadside, his comrade trying to cheer him on to -reach the hospital tents. I bade my orderly give the sick soldier a -lift, and learned from t’other that his friend ought to have reported -sick this morning, but refused on account of the approaching battle, -and so marched and fought all day before yielding to nature’s -imperious weakness. Others I hear of who received wounds in the attack -on Rickmer’s baggage, and concealed ’em, lest they should be forbid to -fight to-day. Could any enemy in the world defeat such men as these?” - -“Did poor Ambrose get the message to Keeling, General?” asked Brian, -as Sir Harry wolfed down bread and meat and drank coffee in a way that -said much for his digestion, if little for his palate. - -“No. Rickmer called off the pursuit when Keeling swears another -half-hour would have seen Kamal-ud-din a prisoner in his hands. Never -a word of this to Ambrose or your sister, remember. It was the poor -fellow’s excess of zeal led him to over-estimate his powers.” - -“Then he fell from his horse at the moment you said you feared -Kamal-ud-din must have left sharpshooters in ambush to delay the -pursuit, sir? when he failed to cross the space of empty ground you -were watching with your telescope?” - -“That was the place. The patrol I sent out found him lying -unconscious, his horse feeding beside him. And you came straight here, -as I bid you?” - -“As straight as a swimming head would permit, General! Of course I was -beset for news as I passed through the camp, but I told all I could to -the first officer I met, and stationed a sentry to keep the curious -from approaching this house, according to your orders, so everything -has been quite quiet.” - -“‘Quite quite!’” Sir Harry mimicked Brian’s pronunciation. “Good, I am -glad to leave you here to be a support to your sister--possibly also a -consolation to poor Ambrose. You and he must keep up one another’s -spirits.” - -“But sure you’ll let me rejoin you, sir? This scratch--not a cat’s -scratch, I’ll allow, but equally not a tiger’s; will we say it’s a -tiger-kitten’s?--can’t keep me laid up more than a day or two. One -day, I’d say if I was asked, but I know what these medicos are when -once they get their hands on you.” - -“We march again to-morrow, as soon as the doolies that have brought -the wounded hither rejoin. Why, my good fellow, are you blind not to -see that all hangs on our catching Kamal-ud-din _ek dum_? With him in -my hands, the last shot is fired, as I believe. But should he escape -and raise another army, with the hot weather and the inundations -coming on, he may bother us for another year. So hie after him! Let us -hope the gentleman will have the politeness to wait for us at Khanpur, -and not lead us away into the desert on an unmannerly wild-goose hunt -for Umarganj.” - -“Hard luck for you to lose him, General, when you so nearly had your -fingers on him again!” - -“Precious hard luck! But no, I won’t have a word said against my -luck--my most astounding good luck! That Rickmer’s column should get -in safe, despite its commander’s utmost efforts, that both my -reinforcements, from up and down the river, should arrive in the very -nick of time, that we should run across that herdsman this morning, -and learn that while we were flourishing forth to fight empty air the -enemy was in full march for our communications--what d’ye call that? -Nay, I will go further, and instead of what in our pagan style we call -luck, say that the hand of Providence has been manifest throughout. -There is a great future before Khemistan--I’m convinced of it. I see -all the hoarded wealth of Central Asia pouring down the river, and -making Bab-us-Sahel a port richer and more extensive by far than -Bombay. (As soon as I have time to think of anything but fighting, my -first care shall be the provision of a proper harbour.) I see the -great city of Victoria rising on the upper river, occupying the whole -of the site now covered by the wretched hovels of Sahar and Bahar and -the mouldering ramparts of Bori--the scene of an annual fair beside -which the glories of Novgorod grow pale, where the silks of Gamara and -the embroideries of China are spread forth to entrance the eyes of the -simple Arabit bringing for sale the precious gums of his mountain -deserts and the wiry beasts of his own breeding. I see that -Arabit--son and brother of the grim fighters whose piled corpses I -passed with unavailing horror and regret on my way hither,--his -immemorial weapons laid aside at the behest of British power, not -merely cultivating a desire for the manufactures of the West, and -thereby benefiting my beloved native land, but perceiving for the -first time the blessings of peace and the advantages of commerce, and -carrying the tale to the dwellers in his rugged glens. Positively -there’s no end to the wonders that will follow naturally upon this -day’s conquest. The price is heavy--those gory heaps, not merely of -the enemy, but of our own best and bravest,--but Heaven is my witness -that had the choice lain with me, not one drop of blood had been shed. -My hands are clean, for all that I have been ‘a man of war from my -youth.’” - -“Who could deny it, General? Certainly no one that knows you, or has -taken part in the campaign. The enemy themselves will be the first to -admit it, when they are learning under your guidance the lessons of -peace as they have done--not by their own good will, I’ll -confess--those of war.” - -Undoubtedly Brian possessed to perfection the art of smoothing down -the lion. Sir Harry’s rugged countenance radiated pleasure and -contentment, though he felt bound to protest. - -“Well, well, we mustn’t make too sure! Yet it seems as though Heaven -had designs for me as well as for Khemistan. To be riding gently up -and down for three mortal hours at Mahighar between opposing forces -never more than fifteen yards apart, the target of both--for when the ---th got excited and fired high their bullets came rattling about my -head--and yet to go unscathed! To lead my soldiers unwittingly into -the line of fire to-day, then down into that nullah, with matchlocks -directed at my heart in dozens from the farther bank, and those fiery -swordsmen dashing upon me whirling their deadly blades! Delany, I -found my sword-hilt smashed by a bullet; after I had sent you away one -of the enemy’s magazines blew up close to me; yet I was unhurt. Not -even Black Prince was touched, poor beast!--which at Mahighar was -neither more nor less than a miracle--though my orderly behind me was -unhorsed both then and to-day. Nor have I been compelled to defend my -own life at the cost of another’s. To-day an Arabit ran at me with his -sword uplifted. I had a pistol ready, and could have shot him, but a -soldier stopped him with his bayonet before he could reach me. Even my -staff seem to share my immunity. Though riding hither and thither on -errands in the thickest of the fray, not one of you has even been hit -until you took this hurt of yours, and you came by that through your -thirst for hand-to-hand fighting, against which I have warned you. -There is indeed something remarkable in all this. D’ye know the people -have found a new name for me? Several times as I rode here I saw -groups of ’em bowing profoundly at the roadside, and on my orderly -calling out that the Bahadar Jang was in a hurry and could hear no -petitions now, their sole reply was to prostrate themselves -reverently, ejaculating ‘Padishah!’” - -“And why not, sir?” asked Brian heartily--he had been fearing the -General had heard himself mentioned by the less complimentary title of -“Brother of Satan.” “Who would be so fit as yourself to administer the -territory you have added to Her Majesty’s dominions?” - -“Well, that ain’t for me to say----” Sir Harry was obviously not -ill-pleased. “The Governor-General will select whom he chooses--though -I don’t pretend to be ignorant of his appreciation of the efforts of -the army. That _dâk_ which came in before we marched this morning was -Lord Maryport’s, containing his congratulations to us on Mahighar. I -have had no time to read it through, but it contained some -awards--Keeling is promoted aide-de-camp to the G.-G., I remember--and -he promises further promotions when he has been able to study my -despatches more fully. To be elated by the praises of a -civilian--pshaw! am I as weak as that? I trust not, I believe not. -Praise from the Duke, now--the assurance that the humblest of his -Grace’s pupils, endeavouring to put in practice lessons learnt from -that great man, had made no heinous mistake,--that would gratify my -most greedy desires, and lacking that, I shall remain unsatisfied. Put -it that Lord Maryport appoints me Governor of Khemistan, as you -suggest. I am touched by such a proof of his lordship’s confidence, -and naturally strive to acquit myself to his satisfaction, but if he -desired to do me a personal favour, he could please me no better than -by sending me back to my wife and girls. What are Khemistan and the -winning of battles to me compared with them?” - -“But sure you’ll have both, General. Lady Lennox and the young ladies -won’t consent to be kept at Poonah much longer with you up here, if I -know ’em.” - -“Possibly it may be feasible to get them here after the hot weather. -Then indeed I should have nothing left to wish for. But I must be -moving. I am glad to leave you here to look after your sister. See to -it that she never rides alone, by the bye. Munshi was telling me some -foolish tale of Kamal-ud-din’s believing that our luck resides in her -presence with us, and no doubt he is capable of seeking to transfer my -good fortune to himself. The lower he sees his cause sunk, the more -likely he is to attempt to re-establish it by some desperate -expedient. And see that she don’t drive the unfortunate Ambrose mad by -her affectionate assiduities, if you can.” - -“Will you tell me you think I’m able for it, General?” - -Sir Harry chuckled. “Give the poor fellow the support of your presence -when possible. But don’t attempt to dissuade your sister from a close -attendance on him, for you’ll get the worst of it. Never interfere -with a woman in her own province. She knows what will bring her -consolation, though you mayn’t realise it. That’s the advice of one -who has had a good deal to do with women.” - -“I’m sorry the association has been so unfortunate as to teach you -such wisdom, General.” - -“You young dog!” Sir Harry turned back on the verandah step and -chuckled again. “But you’re wrong there. I thank Heaven no woman has -ever known sorrow through me. Many are the tears I have kissed away, -but never caused one to flow. And you are thinking, you irreverent -young rascal”--with a renewed chuckle--“that to be kissed by a -battered old phiz like mine would be more likely to draw tears than to -allay ’em. I know you young fellows!” - -“I wouldn’t dream of such a thought, sir!” with virtuous indignation. -“But all the same, I’d give a good deal to be sure you don’t draw -floods of ’em from my little Sally when I ask you for her, before you -say yes!” he added _sotto voce_, as he supported himself by the pillar -while Sir Harry mounted his horse and called out a farewell message to -Eveleen. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - IF SHE WILL, SHE WILL. - -/It/ would be pleasant to state that the shock Eveleen had received -turned her in one hour into a normal wife, and that feminine intuition -taught her to care for her husband in his weakness without jarring him -by too great eagerness, but it would not be in accordance with the -facts. Perhaps the ladies who disliked her were justified in saying -that she was unwomanly. At any rate, the truth remains that she was -absolutely incapable of realising that there are times--and a good -many of them--when the soul of a sick person yearns for nothing on -earth but to be let alone. She could not let Richard alone. If she was -not doing some totally unnecessary and undesired thing for him, she -was thinking of something to do, and if she could not think of any -thing, she was asking him to suggest something. His bearer knew -exactly how to make him comfortable in bed, but it would have been -asking too much of Eveleen to expect her to believe this. She was -quite certain she could arrange things more to his taste than any one -else, and she arranged them complacently to _her_ taste, only to see a -possible improvement in less than five minutes, and to proceed to make -it. Richard’s hours were passed in undergoing a continual series of -experiments--each of which had to be talked about beforehand, -discussed while it was in progress, and made the subject of mutual -congratulation when it was over, until the next inspiration dawned on -Eveleen’s mind. He could not quite decide whether the talking made it -worse or better. It added the tortures of anticipation to those of -realisation, certainly, but it might have been worse if he had been -seized upon without warning. He was too weak to protest, too weary to -be sarcastic, though he derived not merely bodily satisfaction, but a -glimmering of amusement, from the air of portentous patience with -which his bearer would take any and every opportunity of the Beebee’s -absence to reverse each and all of her arrangements, and make his -master comfortable in his own way. Perhaps it was as well that -Eveleen’s inventive brain provided her with so many new and infallible -ideas for the better treatment of the sick, since she could never be -quite sure that the arrangement she found in force on her return might -not have been her own latest experiment but one, and not the bearer’s -at all. Her satisfaction in having her husband all to herself, and -being able to do everything for him--she told him so perpetually--was -so complete that Richard had not the heart to disturb it, and -sufferance being the badge of the bearer’s tribe, he refrained -likewise. The surgeon was the only person whose authority she -acknowledged--to a certain extent,--and he knew better than to wound -her, and probably provoke a scene, by throwing doubts on her capacity -as a nurse. What he did, and earned thereby the patient’s sincerest -gratitude, was to insist on her taking regular exercise--or in the -enthusiasm of her self-sacrifice she would have forsworn even her -beloved rides. The doctor used to detect, or so he imagined, a faint -smile in the eyes of the man on the bed when he took upon himself, -with friendly violence, to propel Mrs Ambrose from the sick-room. -“Just a short ride, my dear madam, beside your good brother’s -palkee”--for the surgeons had fulfilled Brian’s darkest anticipations -by condemning him to a recumbent position and no riding for a week at -least--“to cheer him up and give you a little change of scene. -Otherwise”--darkly--“we shall have you unable to resume your kind care -of Ambrose to-morrow, and what would become of him then?” with, it is -to be feared, a perceptible wink directed towards the patient. - -Richard’s constitution--mental as well as physical--must have been a -good one, for he succeeded in surviving not merely his own imprudence -on the day of the battle, but his wife’s nursing after it, and in -arriving at the point when the surgeon said cheerfully, “Now we ought -to see some improvement every day!” But the forecast was not -justified. There was no relapse, but also no further improvement. The -patient remained in the same state day after day--unwilling or unable -to attempt exertion of any kind, still asking merely to be let alone. -It was only natural that Eveleen should become impatient. Her active -mind had run ahead of reality so far as to picture him convalescent -and established out of doors in the shade, with herself fetching and -carrying for him and anticipating his slightest wish. The trifling -drawback that there was no shade out of doors did not at first suggest -itself to her. The hot weather was coming on fast, and the emerald -greenery which had made the country round Qadirabad such a refreshing -sight to Indian eyes was growing brown and parched. Happily the -Residency had been built to suit the climate, with thick walls and -heavy chunamed verandahs, and an abundant supply of the mud-brick -ventilators evolved by local talent--erected on the roof to catch -every breath of air, and convey it in the form of wind down a kind of -chimney into each room, accompanied by a disproportionate quantity of -dust. But even in the Residency Eveleen gasped for breath behind the -close-drawn blinds, and felt that life was only worth living when -night and darkness made it possible to move about again outside, -though only to find that all her favourite leafy spots were sere and -dry. Then--probably by force of contrast--the thought of Bab-us-Sahel -and the sea suggested itself to her, and instantly her mind was made -up that a trip to Bab-us-Sahel was what Richard needed to restore him -to health. Of course he would never shake off his lassitude here, with -the hot breath of the desert blasting the vegetation and burning -everything up. A voyage down the river--peacefully floating onwards -night and day, drawing nearer each hour to real sea-breezes--that was -what would cure him, and he must and should have it. She said -so--without a thought of encountering opposition--to Brian, just -promoted to a gentle ride morning and evening instead of the -humiliating palkee, and was astonished and wounded to find that he did -not agree with her. - -“Can’t you leave the poor fellow alone?” he demanded. “Sure he only -wants not to be teased and worried.” - -“But who teases and worries him, I’d like to know? It’s rousing he -wants--any one could see that.” - -“Ask the doctor, can’t you? and see what he’ll tell you.” - -“I will not. Don’t I know what my own husband wants better than any -doctor?” - -“But Ambrose don’t want to go to Bab-us-Sahel.” - -“Does he not, indeed?” triumphantly. “I asked him would he like it, -and he said he would greatly.” - -“I wonder did he even know what you were talking about? Plenty of -times I don’t believe he’s so much as listening.” - -“Y’are very polite, indeed! I know better.” - -“But see here, Evie, the floods will be coming down any day now, and -you wouldn’t be safe in any country boat--only a steamer, and you know -there ain’t one to spare.” - -“Sure that’s the very reason we ought start at once--to make the -voyage before the floods begin. They don’t come till a full fortnight -after this--I was asking about it this morning--and that’ll give us -oceans of time.” - -“You can never tell. They would as likely have begun a fortnight -ago--only they have not. Anybody will tell you there’s no reckoning on -’em.” - -“Well, I can’t help that----” with a sudden shifting of her ground. “I -tell you we are going.” - -“You can’t go without getting leave. Even if the doctor would let you, -Ambrose is on the staff, and you can’t go carrying him off to t’other -end of nowhere without a word to the General.” - -“Sure I’ll write and ask him. Will that satisfy you?” - -“Will you wait for the answer? Nonsense, Evie! y’are behaving like a -bit of a child. Look now what I’ll do for you. I’ll go see the General -and tell him all about it. He’ll be at Khanpur--or maybe even on his -way back here, and I suppose you will take what he says from his own -mouth. If he thinks it safe you will go, and if not, you stay here -like a rational being. You can trust him. Is that settled now?” - -“I’ll be quite satisfied if I once see the General and settle it with -him,” agreed Eveleen--which was not quite the explicit pledge Brian -would have exacted had he been giving his full mind to the matter. But -Brian was uncomfortably conscious of ulterior motives in his -opposition to the plan. He was arguing quite as much for his own -benefit as Richard’s. The General would give him leave to escort his -sister and the invalid to Bab-us-Sahel, he was sure--only too readily, -indeed, for he did not want to go. He wanted to be back at his proper -work--not leaving Stewart and Frederick Lennox to win all sorts of -laurels without him. Khanpur had fallen without a blow--Khemistan is -full of Khanpurs, but this was Kamal-ud-din’s pleasure-capital on the -edge of the desert, quite distinct from his grim fortress of Umarganj -in its deepest depths. The inhabitants met the Bahadar Jang with -acclamations, and testified the utmost gratitude to him for delivering -them from the Arabit tyranny, but they could only hand over the shell -without the kernel. Kamal-ud-din, with his baggage and the remains of -his army, had escaped into the desert, presumably to Umarganj, and Sir -Harry settled down, with what patience he could command--which was -very little--to wait at Khanpur while his subordinates continued the -pursuit. It was not etiquette for him to move against Umarganj in -person, lest so great a potentate should incur the disgrace of a check -before a small desert fort, and he was beginning to pay some attention -to Indian opinion, which he had despised so heartily when he landed. -But he learned to wish that he had disregarded it on this occasion, -for Kamal-ud-din contrived marvellously to baffle his pursuers. He was -heard of in many places--now far ahead of his enemies, then at the -spot they had just left, and at this time there was a rumour that he -had managed to elude the troops altogether, and break back towards the -river. With the hot weather and the inundations close at hand, this -was a serious matter, and Brian anticipated a regular drive--a -combined effort to put an end once and for all to the young Khan’s -power for mischief. Little wonder, then, that Eveleen’s insistence on -the trip to Bab-us-Sahel failed to meet with sympathy. - -Being anxious to get back to active service at the earliest possible -moment, Brian had obeyed orders so virtuously with regard to his -wound, that the surgeons were quite glad to have an opportunity for -rewarding him. His request was so modest--merely to ride out to -Khanpur with a supply convoy, which must necessarily travel slowly and -by night, pay his respects there to the General, and return, thus at -once testing his strength and increasing it, and the doctors sped him -joyfully. So did Eveleen. He felt bitterly afterwards that he ought to -have extorted a promise from her that she would make no move until his -return, but it is probable that at the time she had no thought of -anticipating it. According to her wont, she was entirely convinced -that things were going to happen as she wished, and referred to -Brian’s mission as though the General was merely to be informed -politely of the proposed journey instead of being asked to permit it. -Brian found this trying, and ventured to point out the misconception, -whereupon she faced round upon him with flashing eyes. - -“D’ye tell me Sir Harry would have the heart to keep Ambrose here sick -when a month or so at Bab-us-Sahel would set him up entirely? It’s -yourself is making the difficulty, Brian, and if you say any more I’ll -know you don’t want us to go.” - -This was precisely the case, but it seemed rather heartless to admit -it to an affectionate wife torn with anxiety for her husband, and -Brian said no more. His disobliging attitude rankled in Eveleen’s mind -for a while after he started, but as so often happens, it was -opportunity that provided the impulse to action. She was sitting with -Richard as usual, and after a night largely sleepless by reason of the -heat, was dozing in her chair--not restfully, but spasmodically. She -was too tired even to resent actively the fact that the bearer had -seized upon the chance of doing something for his master, and was -remaking the bed--if it could be called making when there was so -little to make. He was talking, too, and Richard was answering -drowsily, or rather acquiescing, at due intervals. It was something -about a Parsee trader whose business required his immediate presence -at Bombay. He had secured boats and a guard of armed men for the -voyage down the river to Bab-us-Sahel, but though he was intensely -anxious to get there before the floods began, he was horribly afraid -of the wild tribes plundering on the banks, and would give anything -for the countenance and protection of European fellow-travellers. By -Richard’s murmured assents, the information evidently conveyed nothing -to him, but Eveleen was wide awake by this time, and sat up suddenly. - -“How did you hear this Firozji would like to take European passengers -in his boat, bearer?” she asked--in Persian which was very much of the -“station” order, but which long practice enabled Abdul Qaiyam readily -to understand. But he did not seem very clear about his answer. The -matter had been talked about among the servants. They might have heard -of it from Mr Firozji’s servants--he did not know. Eveleen suspected -at once that her desire to go down the river had been discussed--as -everything was discussed--by the servants, who were always at hand to -see and hear, and that one of them knew sufficient of Mr Firozji’s -affairs to conceive the idea of bringing the two parties together in -return for a tip from the Parsee, and possibly another from herself. -But to quarrel with the means by which her wish might be attained -would indeed be to look a gift-horse in the mouth, and she questioned -the bearer further, finding him better informed than his previous -vagueness might have suggested. To secure the escort of Europeans, Mr -Firozji would be willing to give up to them his own large and -comfortable boat, occupying a smaller one himself, and his servants -would undertake catering and cooking, so that only personal attendants -need be taken. This clinched the matter. Eveleen bade Abdul Qaiyam -summon Mr Firozji to wait upon her as soon as possible, and then -turned her attention to the not unimportant detail of getting the -doctor’s leave for the move. She met the poor man with shock tactics. - -“Such a wonderful chance!” she cried triumphantly when he came in on -his evening visit--“splendid, I’d say, only the General hates the word -so. You know the way I have been longing and wishing to get Ambrose -down the river, but there wouldn’t be any boats going?” - -It was the first the surgeon had been told of it officially, but he -also had servants, and they also talked. Therefore he was able to -answer with truth, “I have heard of it, certainly.” - -“Well, and now here’s the very thing--old Firozji in the Bazar going -down with more boats than he wants, all in a hurry to avoid the -floods, don’t you know. He’ll be glad of European passengers, we’ll be -glad to travel with him, so did y’ever hear anything nicer?” - -“I am not surprised at his welcoming European fellow-travellers, but I -doubt your finding him the safest of company. He’s afraid of the -Codgers, of course.” - -These were the Kajias, the wildest of the wild tribes of Lower -Khemistan, who in the mouth of the British troops naturally became the -Codgers, and their Khan the King of the Codgers. The Kajias it was who -had been so bold as to raid the outlying houses of Bab-us-Sahel, and -Sir Henry had sent the Khan a stern reproof and orders to come in and -surrender. Eveleen laughed as she thought of it. - -“And the Codgers will be afraid of us. Sure the General has put terror -upon them--so that’s all right. After these two victories no one would -dare touch a European.” - -“I trust you may be correct. But----” - -“Ah, then, don’t _but_ at me! Be good and kind like yourself, and help -me to make my _bandobast_ in time.” - -“Why, when do you want to go?” - -“I haven’t seen Firozji yet, but the way the bearer spoke I’d say he -would start to-night if he could--and what could be better? I -mean”--she explained kindly--“that Ambrose won’t have the worry of -looking forward. He’ll wake up out of this drowsy state and find -himself on the beautiful cool water, and he _will_ be pleased!” - -“There’s something in that,” said the surgeon meditatively, and went -and looked at Richard, in whose eyes he caught a fleeting gleam of -recognition, which passed as quickly as it came. “But I fear you won’t -find it particularly cool on the river. The glare from the sand and -the water will be precious trying, after the shade here. You don’t -know what it means to be cooped up in a small boat in the hot weather, -with nothing but a mat roof between you and the sun, and no -possibility of finding even a rock or a tree to shelter you.” - -“But it won’t be for very long,” cheerfully. “And _nothing_ could be -hotter than ’tis here.” - -The surgeon was well aware of the contrary, but Eveleen looked so -tired and washed-out that he could not bring himself to dash her -hopes. He remembered another objection, however. “But what about -getting leave? You can’t spirit away the General’s political assistant -without asking him.” - -“Why, now, what could be better?” she cried joyfully. “My brother has -gone to see Sir Harry and get leave for this very trip, only I never -thought we’d find a passage so easily. Sir Harry can’t refuse, and -Brian must come on after and overtake us.” - -“Or fetch you back, if Sir Harry should refuse.” - -“He will not, I’ll answer for him. ’Twould be as much as to say he -didn’t wish Ambrose would get better.” - -“I have no doubt you would tell him so, ma’am. And you ain’t afraid of -the responsibility of looking after your husband with no doctor at -hand?” - -“Why, what can doctors do for him?” ungratefully. “Ah, now”--realising -what she had said,--“you know what I mean. You have done all you -can--you said so,--and here he lies in this state, and you can get him -no further. You’ll tell me what I’ll do if he seems worse, and I’ll do -it. Why would I be frightened at all?” - -“I don’t see that the voyage can do him any harm so long as you ain’t -shipwrecked or attacked by the Codgers,” said the surgeon dubiously; -“and at Bab-us-Sahel you will be able to turn him over to Gibbons. But -for pity’s sake don’t go and get marooned on a sandbank, or besieged -in some barren spot on the shore without a bit of shade, till your -brother comes and rescues you. I can’t answer for Ambrose if he’s -exposed to the sun again, remember. The heat is bad enough; you will -have to keep the bearer pouring water over him most of the day in any -case, I expect.” - -“I will, I will; and if we have to be besieged I’ll be sure to pick -out a _shikargah_ or some other nice place. And you will see about a -pass for us, if one’s wanted, like the angel that y’are, and see that -no one would try to stop us, will you not?” - -“But I would gladly keep you back myself until your brother was here -to take charge of you, if I didn’t know it would mean that you would -probably be prevented from going at all. Hang it, ma’am! I wish you -had sent me a chit to tell me what you wanted. How is a man to -consider things coolly with a flood of blarney pouring on his head?” - -“But sure I don’t want you to consider things--only to do them,” said -Eveleen innocently, and he went off laughing. That morning it would -have seemed absurd that she should actually find her wishes fulfilled -by the evening, but so it happened. Mr Firozji, a short elderly man, -who contrived somehow to be both stout and wizened at the same time, -was evidently waiting outside for the doctor to go. He was very rich, -very timid, and so grateful for the prospect of having Major and Mrs -Ambrose as fellow-passengers that he would have promised almost -anything to secure them, and Eveleen had to insist that they should -pay their share of the boat hire and other expenses. - -“’Twould be a fine joke against Ambrose to save his pocket by putting -him under an obligation to a black man, but I won’t be teasing him -when he’s so ill,” she said virtuously to herself. “Though Firozji -would maybe think it only fair to pay for the protection of our -presence,” she added a little ruefully. “It’s well I’m not timid, for -it looks as if my courage would have to do the whole party.” - -It was not the first time in her life that she had felt nervous over -the fulfilment of one of her impulsive wishes, but she had never had -the feeling quite so strongly as to-night. Abdul Qaiyam and Ketty had -it too, for they both enquired anxiously if she was not going to wait -for the young Sahib. She was obliged to be very firm and cheerful with -them over the process of packing, realising that they would not be -sorry if they could manage to delay things till the opportunity was -lost. Despite the heat, she flew about from the sick-room to her own -room and then to the verandah, deciding what must be taken, and seeing -with her own eyes that it was packed. Abdul Qaiyam would never let his -master go short, she knew--if Richard suffered it would be through -forgetfulness, not malice,--but she had an idea that she herself might -find various things lacking that were indispensable to comfort unless -she looked after them herself. Richard remained in the same lethargic -state until the servants lifted him to carry him down to the boat. -Then there came another of those brief flashes of full consciousness, -and he looked disturbed--even protesting. Eveleen had a moment of -terror lest her plan should fall through even now. She bent over him -and smiled into his face. - -“Off to Bab-us-Sahel!” she said brightly. “Do y’all the good in the -world!” - -He seemed to try to say something, but in the effort the drowsiness -came over him again, and she was guiltily conscious that she was glad. -Once get him safely on board, and he might regain command of his -senses as soon as he liked. He was certain to make a fuss--especially -about her not waiting for Brian’s return--but she would point out -triumphantly that his return to consciousness was the best possible -proof of the wisdom of her action. The surgeon came to see them on -board, and gave anxious directions as to what was to be done if -various things happened, and she listened and did her best to label -them and stow them away in the proper compartments of her mind. A -number of friends were waiting to see them off, for the sudden journey -had given every one the idea that Richard had had a serious relapse, -and the only chance of saving his life was to take him at once to -Bab-us-Sahel, regardless alike of the unpropitious season and the -dangers of the way. They were very quiet and sympathetic as he was -carried down the path, but a certain revulsion of feeling was -perceptible when Eveleen followed. Ambrose looked no worse than he had -done for days, and Mrs Ambrose certainly had not the look of strain -that the situation demanded. Just a little anxious, no doubt, as any -woman is when she is trying to remember whether she has got everything -before starting on a journey, but with a look of something like -triumph as well. The condolences and good wishes fell rather flat, and -as they returned up the cliff by torchlight the ladies told their -husbands that either Mrs Ambrose was trying to get rid of the Major by -carrying him off away from medical aid, or she was going down the -river for some purpose of her own, regardless of the effect on him. - -The chill of disapproval made itself felt, and Eveleen was conscious -of depression of spirits. The boat was as comfortable as had been -promised, their possessions were easily arranged so as to leave ample -room for moving about, and one or two suggestions which the doctor -made for the invalid’s comfort were instantly carried out. Yet she did -not feel happy. The surgeon’s last remark had been that they ought to -have a guard of soldiers--he was certain the General would have sent -one had he been there,--and anyhow, where were these armed servants of -Firozji’s? Mr Firozji explained anxiously that a boat had gone to -fetch them, and they would catch up the party below the camp, and the -doctor said he hoped it was all right, but his tone was doubtful. -Eveleen remembered it when the boatful of guards joined the other two. -They were armed, certainly--to the teeth, but they were a wild-looking -set, more like outlaws from the hills than the servants of a -law-abiding elderly merchant. But had Mr Firozji said they were his -servants? She could not remember that he had, and it looked very much -as though he had selected his guardians from among the masterless men -who had been left without occupation by the defeat of the Khans. If -she had guessed that he had carried one of the root principles of -Indian housekeeping so far as to guard against trouble from the Kajias -by going to some trouble to obtain members of the tribe as his escort, -she would have been still more uneasy, but she told herself that it -was too late to turn back now, and she must hope for the best. She -took out Richard’s pistols, and made sure that they were loaded, and -determined to sleep with them under her pillow and a supply of -ammunition within reach of her hand. After all, Brian ought to catch -them up in two days at most--less if he took a fast boat and kept the -crew up to their work. It did not occur to her that Brian might be in -no hurry to get back from Khanpur. He was a man of many friends, and -there was plenty to hear from all of them, and he had no particular -objection to leaving Eveleen to cool her heels at Qadirabad, as he -believed, for a day or two. The longer his return was delayed, the -more likely was she to have some new plan in her head--completely -ousting the Bab-us-Sahel one,--or the floods might even have begun, -and the journey be out of the question. - -The surgeon’s warning came back to Eveleen many times in the course of -the next day, and when evening came she would readily have confessed -that at the Residency she had not known what heat was. In her -anticipations, the voyage had offered all the advantages of a steamer -except its speed, coupled with the absence of smoke and smell, and the -delight of being near the water. But she found that with the greater -speed of the steamer went the pleasant sensation of moving air, and -that the long hot hours when there was no breeze to fill the sails, -and the river-current seemed incredibly slow, provided a new form of -torture--such as might be experienced by a speck of dross on the -mirror-like surface of a huge cauldron of molten metal. Even Richard -was conscious of it, as she could not but see. He did not recognise -her--not even her voice when she spoke to him,--but he gasped feebly, -with now and then a pitiful little moan. The fear gripped her that he -might die before her eyes, and with threats and bribes she induced one -of the boatmen and a servant of Mr Firozji’s to keep the roof of the -cabin continually wet with buckets of water, while Abdul Qaiyam -performed the same service for his master beneath it. It was no light -task, for the heat seemed to dry things at once, and leave them even -drier than before; but she threw all her energy into the business of -keeping the men at their work, and when evening came her husband was a -little easier. She had a moment to rest, and to notice what she had -not done before--the threatening look of the sky. Mr Firozji, in a -quavering voice which sounded absurdly small for his substantial bulk, -opined that they were going to have a thunderstorm, and Eveleen did -not need him to tell her that if this extended far up the river, it -would mean that the dreaded inundation would begin at once. Other -people realised this as well, for the lazy boatmen began to work with -some appearance of energy, and the headman of the guards came into Mr -Firozji’s boat to urge some course of action upon him, which he -refused, though with a fluttering politeness which betrayed alarm. -Since there was still no breeze, it was necessary to pole the boats -along, as this wide unsheltered channel was not a safe place in which -to be caught by the storm; and the boatmen poled to such good purpose -that before the rapid darkness fell, the flotilla was moored under the -lee of an island--or rather sandbank--which promised some protection -from wind and current. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - WELL AND TRULY LAID. - -/Still/ the storm tarried. Supper was served, and Eveleen made a -pretence of eating, lest the servants should attribute her lack of -appetite to fear. Then they went away to have their food--Ketty eating -in self-righteous solitude, while Abdul Qaiyam fraternised with the -boatmen, who had kindled a fire on the island to cook their rice. -Eveleen envied them as they sat in the smoke, for it served to keep -away mosquitoes and other flying pests, while she durst not light a -candle for fear of filling the cabin with the winged intruders. Alone -with her unconscious husband, she kept a dreary vigil, fearful of she -knew not what. She remembered that Richard had seemed about to say -something when the boat with the guards came up, but the momentary -impulse had passed, and he had shown no inclination to speak since. -What was it that had troubled him? Could it be that he had recognised -any of the men? But even so, what could the guards do, even if -ill-disposed? They might intend robbery, but the modest belongings of -the pair would be poor booty compared with the danger of provoking the -certain vengeance of the Bahadar Jang. Or if they were indeed -adherents of the Khans, their object might be simply to avenge the -wrongs of their former masters; and Eveleen shuddered as she -remembered what had befallen an invalid officer, on his way down the -river, at the hands of some of Khair Husain Khan’s servants. Dragged -from his boat shivering with fever, the sick man had pleaded with the -robbers, as he thought them, to leave him his clothes, because he was -so cold, and they had responded by cutting off his head. Sir Harry had -acted as might have been expected of him, informing the Khan he would -hang him from the round tower of the Fort unless the guilty servants -were given up. They were produced in an hour, and suffered the penalty -their master escaped, though it went sorely against the grain with Sir -Harry to spare Khair Husain and punish his tools. That example ought -to serve as a salutary warning, surely? - -But Eveleen could not take comfort. The servants had returned and made -things ready for the night, and she had lain down on her bed, though -knowing she could not sleep. Every sense seemed to be more than -commonly alive, as though the coming storm, which had lulled Richard -into lethargy, merely stimulated her. Theoretically no one was awake -within miles of her--for what was the use of posting sentries on an -uninhabited island in the middle of a wide river?--but the air was -full of little unaccountable noises. A feeble soughing wind that went -and came, distant irritable growlings of the storm, the rattling, -rather than rustling, of the withered grass and rushes--these sounds -she could identify, but there were others whose meaning eluded her. Of -course it was only the lapping of the water that sounded like -whispers, and when one might think some one had dropped a weapon it -was merely the snapping off of a dead branch by its own weight; but -she wished they would not happen. The blinds at the ends of the cabin -were rolled up to allow the free passage of air, and she lay looking -out at the leaden sky, with no companionable stars to brighten it, and -listening to the sounds, and there fell upon her at last an agony of -terror. It had always been her boast that she did not know what nerves -were, but she would never make it again. The beating of her own heart -sounded to her like the rise and fall of a tremendous piston, such as -she had once heard in a Dublin factory, filling the whole earth and -sky; and as she cowered before its relentless thud, she trembled with -cold, though the slightest movement made her aware that her whole -frame was streaming with perspiration. She who had been afraid of -nothing was afraid of everything--the place, the time, the weather, -the solitude, the company, the silence, the sounds,--what she saw and -what she did not see. - -She shook herself angrily free from the overmastering terror at -last--or at any rate, which perhaps showed equal courage, she acted as -if she did. Struggling from the bed and to her feet--for she found she -must put forth all her strength, as though she were really being held -down by a powerful hostile hand,--she threw on a dressing-gown and -groped her way forward. The old bearer, curled up like a dog beside -his master, heard her and looked up curiously: she saw his bright eyes -like a dog’s in the dark, lighted by some gleam behind her, perhaps -the ashes of the dying fire on the shore. She stood looking out, but -there was nothing to see. Dark sky, dark water--a perfect pall of -darkness brooding over everything,--and on her left a slightly deeper -darkness which showed the position of the island and its ragged grass -and shrubs. The voices of the night were whispering as before, and -again she felt that terrible sensation of helplessness. Once she -opened her lips to pray, but her pride was not broken yet. “And how -would I pray,” she asked herself sharply, “when I know every bit of -it’s my own doing?” - -She staggered as she spoke, and caught at the framework of the cabin -to steady herself. What had made the boat lurch suddenly--some wave -which was the result of the storm higher up, its precursor here? She -looked more narrowly at the water. Was it fancy, or did she see round -things moving in it? And surely there were strange amorphous shapes -where there had been none before? Her heart stood still. The change, -if change there was, was so soundless, so ghostly. But the thought of -the supernatural passed from her mind with a shock. The boat was -moving. Not merely swaying at its moorings as the current tried to -suck it away from the protecting island, but moving out into the -stream and leaving the island behind. Wild thoughts of crocodiles -rushed into her mind. Could they possibly bite through stout ropes and -tow a boat along, or even leave it to float at its own sweet will? -Impossible; there must be human agency at work. With Eveleen to think -was to act, and kneeling precariously at the side of the boat, she -leaned over the gunwale and clutched at one of the round objects she -had thought she saw. The yell of horror which came from it told her -what the sense of touch told also, that it was a human head. The boat -was surrounded by swimming men, who were moving it away from the -island--presumably it was also being towed by a rope. But what the -great shapeless objects were, which she seemed to see beyond the -heads, she could not tell, nor did she trouble to conjecture. Whether -she or the man she had grasped was the more astonished might be -doubtful, but she had the advantage of position. Catching up an -earthen water-pot which stood outside the cabin for the sake of -coolness, she hurled it in the direction of the yell, and was on her -feet in a moment and under the mat roof. When she came out, Richard’s -pistols were in her hand, and she fired one in the direction of the -island as a signal. She could not believe that Mr Firozji was -concerned in any plot that might be toward, and if he was a man at all -he would come to the rescue with those guards of his. - -The immediate response to her signal was a startling one. She had -barely time to recharge the pistol, working clumsily in the dark, -before there was a hasty movement of men aft--whether the boatmen or -the swimmers she could not tell, nor was she much concerned to know. -At the moment she was more conscious of Abdul Qaiyam’s heavy breathing -close beside her as he asked in a bewildered voice whether the Beebee -had shot anybody than of her possible assailants. Hurriedly she thrust -the ammunition pouch at him. - -“Load when I pass y’a pistol!” she said sharply, and then called out -in her imperfect Persian to the men in front that if any one came -nearer she would shoot him. One man sprang forward, and she fired at -him point-blank. The blind shot in the dark must have taken effect, -for the man cried out and fell forward. Confused cries of rage and -protest came from the rest, and Eveleen held her hand. For the moment -she had thought of discharging all the three shots she had left into -the group, in the hope of driving them overboard at once, but the -imprudence of leaving herself defenceless, even for a moment, was -reinforced by mystification. The whole thing was like a bad dream--the -shapes in the water, the moving crowd dark against the dark sky, the -eager talking in an unknown tongue. If it was Persian, her knowledge -of the language was quite inadequate to cope with it. She stooped a -moment towards Abdul Qaiyam as he handed her the recharged pistol. - -“Speak to them!” she said imperiously. “Ask them who they are--what -they want. Tell them we are well armed, and can see them though they -can’t see us.” - -The old man was too much terrified to obey immediately, and she thrust -at him impatiently with her foot. Then his quavering voice made itself -heard--“Brothers!” and the men in front appeared to listen. One of -them stepped forward a little. - -“Stand back, or I fire!” said Eveleen quickly, and the bearer repeated -the words in Persian. As he spoke, she remembered suddenly that she -must be visible to any one able to see through the cabin from end to -end, and she sank on her knees, resting the barrel of the heavy pistol -on the back of a camp-chair which she pulled noiselessly towards her. -Crouching thus, she was invisible to those in front, and a barrier--if -a frail one--between Richard and the enemy. But were they enemies, or -was there some absurd mistake? She could not decide, but she felt -fairly certain that what they had been speaking was not Persian, -though the spokesman--who had withdrawn a pace or two hastily before -her threat--was using that language with Abdul Qaiyam. - -“These are very bad people,” the old man murmured to her at last, and -she listened without turning her head. “Kajia tribe--they come to -steal the boat--everything.” - -“Nonsense! they’ll not do anything of the sort. Where will the Parsee -be, now? letting this kind of thing happen instead of coming to help -us.” - -To her amazement the meek voice of Mr Firozji answered her--apparently -from somewhere close at hand. In her bewilderment she suffered her -gaze to stray for a moment, and discerned dimly that he was just -outside the boat, but seemingly not in the water. At least, his voice -was on a level with the gunwale, though there was no grating sound to -show that another boat was rasping alongside. The mad -incomprehensibility of the situation was more incomprehensible than -ever. - -“The Beebee beholds in me a son of misfortune,” he said pathetically. -“The Kajias have deceived me. They have stolen the boat, so as to -carry away the Sahib, the Beebee, myself, the servant people--all.” - -“And what may those guards of yours be about, to let them do it? Call -them, can’t you? Shout!” - -“The Kajias would slay me,” in affright. “The guards are asleep.” - -“Much good they are! But what do the Kajias want to do with us? We’d -be no good to them to steal.” - -“Are they not taking us to their camp?” he suggested doubtfully. - -“Well, they won’t, then. Tell them to go back and leave us on the -island, and take the boat if they want it.” - -“They say the water will soon be rising, and we should all be drowned. -They refuse to leave us.” - -“Sure they’re very considerate! Well, tell them we won’t go to their -camp--or if we do, there’ll be precious few of them will take us -there. I have plenty of shots here, and I’ll use them all first.” - -“What does the Beebee please to desire?” was the question asked after -some interchange of conversation between Mr Firozji and the captors. -Eveleen had employed the interval in thinking hard. She did not -believe the Kajias meant to take their victims to their camp--or if -they did, it was merely for the sake of killing them more at their -leisure. It was in the highest degree unlikely that they would leave -witnesses alive to testify against them, or provoke Sir Harry further -by attempting to hold them to ransom. No, what they had no doubt -intended was to tow the boat out of earshot of the sleepy guards on -the island, and then cut the throats of all on board, and gut the -vessel and send her adrift, in the comfortable conviction that nothing -but unrecognisable fragments would survive the storm. This seemed the -more certain from their bringing with them the means of getting to -shore again, for the mysterious shapes--on one of which Mr Firozji was -uncomfortably poised, like a river-god in difficult -circumstances--were obviously the _mashaks_, or inflated skins, with -the help of which the tribes on the banks were in the habit of making -such short voyages as they found necessary. How they had managed to -abstract the poor little man from his own boat, under the eyes of his -servants, was a mystery, but everything was mysterious to-night. - -He repeated his question as Eveleen hesitated a moment. - -“Why, let them take us over to the other side,” she answered--the -desire to be as far as possible from the Kajias conquering all other -considerations. “I’d rather choose the desert than their camp.” - -“There is no time. They are afraid of the storm.” Mr Firozji’s voice -sounded as if he was frightened himself. - -“Well, they may say whether they’ll be shot, or drowned in the storm. -I’d much rather be drowned----” She stopped suddenly, for the second -pistol, which had lain beside her knee, was hastily withdrawn, and a -shot rang out behind her. Then she laughed rather wildly, for the -deferential voice of the old bearer murmured-- - -“This humble one made bold to fire at one of the sons of wickedness -who was climbing into the boat behind the Beebee’s back.” - -“Quite right!” she said, still laughing, then turned sharply upon Mr -Firozji. “Tell them they are wasting time. If the storm overtakes us -’twill be their fault. I’m tired of this. Let them make up their -minds.” - -Again there was a prolonged conversation, and apparently the Kajias -gave a grudging assent to the condition. “If the Beebee is determined -to drown all of us and the Kajias too, she must,” remarked Mr Firozji -sourly as he scrambled on board the boat, having taken the opportunity -of putting in a word for himself in the course of the negotiations. -Yet Eveleen had the idea that he was not really displeased, and she -wondered whether he could possibly be in league with the Kajias after -all. But the notion seemed so absurd that she banished it again, -though disregarding coldly his hints that the night air was unhealthy, -and refusing to invite him into the cabin. The Kajias--or the -boatmen--or perhaps they were the same: it was impossible to see--were -very busy, working with an alacrity rather surprising in the -circumstances. There was a slight chill breeze to be felt now, and -they were hoisting the sail, and also getting out their poles. Were -they really indifferent which bank they landed on, or were they -plotting further treachery? As noiselessly as she could, Eveleen -supplemented the chair which served her as a parapet by such other -pieces of furniture and packages as she could reach, and whispered to -Abdul Qaiyam to do the same at the other end of the cabin, entrusting -him with one of the pistols. In feeling about, she came across Ketty, -who had preserved such an unwonted silence during the stirring events -of the last half-hour that her mistress had forgotten all about her. -But she had been employing her time to advantage, as Eveleen -discovered when she found her dressing-case open and largely denuded. -Her handmaid had been removing such fittings as were of convenient -size, and concealing them about her person. - -“What in the world are you doing, Ketty?” The tone would have been -louder but for prudential reasons. - -“What madam doing without her things?” was the self-righteous reply, -calculated to make Eveleen repent her unjust suspicions. Were they -really unjust? she wondered. - -“Well, I hope y’are taking care of the Sahib as well,” she said. “He -needs much more than I do.” - -The sniff with which Ketty replied suggested that she considered this -would be trespassing on Abdul Qaiyam’s province, but her mistress had -no time to see whether she was obeying or not, for there were other -things to think of. The tardy storm was coming up at last, heralded by -the breeze which was taking the boat across the stream. Great drops of -rain were falling like bullets on the cabin roof, and the air was full -of a hissing noise. The boat was in the main stream now, and the -boatmen drew in their poles, and evidently settled down to hold tight -and hope for the best. The river seemed bewitched, cross-currents -driving the boat now this way, now that, and the men who were managing -the clumsy sail had no easy task. The vessel was not built for rough -weather, her draught being too shallow and her deck-load too heavy. -She bounced and bobbed about, shipping a good deal of water, and -hurling all the loose things in the cabin from side to side with every -lurch. Fearful of a surprise, Eveleen durst not leave her post even to -see that Richard was safe, and had to take what comfort she could from -the knowledge that his charpoy was fixed to the deck. By the sounds -she heard, she gathered that the two servants were in the throes of -sea-sickness, and she wondered dismally what would happen if she -herself were prostrated by it as on the voyage from Bombay. But her -mental preoccupation probably saved her, and she was able to maintain -her watch. Sheets of rain were falling now, and she was soaked to the -skin, but did her best to shelter the pistol under the wadded quilt -she dragged from her bed. The lightning was almost continuous, and -whenever the howling and shrieking of the wind would allow, the -rolling thunder filled up any pauses. The boat appeared to have -embarked with enthusiasm on a series of experiments--now trying to -stand on her head, now on her tail, and then seeing how far she could -heel over without actually dipping gunwale under. It was wonderful -that the mast did not go, though the great sail had been partly torn -and partly cut away, and replaced by a tiny one which just kept the -vessel before the wind. By the flashes of the lightning Eveleen noted -grimly the miserable huddled figures forward, and guessed that the -Kajias were not particularly happy in their conquest. - -“If only there was a man on board worth a halfpenny--barring my poor -Ambrose,” she said to herself, “we’d retake the ship in no time. But -who is there at all? Firozji is no mortal use; if Bearer can fire a -pistol, that’s the most he can do; and as for the boatmen, if they -ain’t Codgers themselves, they’re every bit as bad. Indeed and they’re -worse, for they ain’t sea-sick.” - -Her self-communing was interrupted by a tremendous clap of wind, which -came down on the boat as though determined to end her gambols at one -blow. But once more she righted herself, though the cabin roof was -torn bodily from its supports and carried gaily down the river. -Eveleen’s heart failed her until she had assured herself, by groping -and feeling, that Richard and the two servants were still there. The -roar and crack had been so overwhelming that for the moment she fully -believed the boat had broken in two, and they were all so wet already -that the exposure to the rain hardly signified. Moreover, the loss of -the mast and the cabin made the boat decidedly steadier, though -Eveleen was less grateful for this than might have been expected, -since she saw distinct signs of returning animation among the captors -when the lightning made them visible. Could they be nearing the shore? -she wondered. How long they had been tossing about, yet on the whole -forging eastwards, she could not tell, but now that the lightning was -less continuous, it seemed to her that between the flashes the -darkness was not quite so in tense. It was a poor prospect--to be -turned out on an unknown shore with a sick man and two frightened -servants; but the expectation of treachery was so strong in her mind -that she would have been thankful if they had been already there. -Certainly it was not goodwill on the part of the Kajias that had -induced them to undertake a voyage of so much danger and difficulty to -get rid of their prisoners, with the prospect of another even more -difficult and dangerous in getting back to their own side of the -river; what then was it? It was not fear. During her tempestuous vigil -she had seen that clearly. Her bluff before the storm had been -spirited, but at any moment she might have been rushed from behind and -thrown overboard, or a man on a _mashak_, shooting at the sound of her -voice in the dark, might have crippled or killed her without the -slightest risk to himself. It could hardly be vengeance, since--though -it might involve more suffering to your captives to maroon them on the -barren shore where they had mistakenly asked to be placed than to kill -them and dispose of their bodies in the river--their sufferings, which -you would not see, would hardly be sufficient compensation for the -risk to yourself involved in getting them there. Mr Firozji, too. A -certain complacence about the little man’s manner led Eveleen to the -conclusion that the greater part of his merchandise must consist in -precious stones hidden about his person, so that he could regard -lightly the loss of all the rest. But if she could guess this, so -could the Kajias, and were they really going to allow him to escape -with it? The whole thing--like all the events of the night--was beset -with riddles, and all that could be done was to keep a sharp watch -against surprise. But in what direction? Eveleen did not know where to -look, and moreover, the unceasing strain of the last few hours was -telling upon her. She had been soaked so repeatedly that she could -hardly remember what it was to feel dry and warm; she was aching in -every limb, and--what was worse--her eyes would hardly keep open. In -spite of the misery of body and anxiety of mind which had already -endured so long, she began to find her eyelids closing involuntarily -and imperceptibly, when she knew she ought to redouble her vigilance -of the night now that dawn would soon give her enemies the advantage. -She had no longer even the shelter of the cabin from which to fire, -and her poor attempt at a barricade had been disintegrated long ago, -and its component parts strewn upon the waters. She turned her head -with difficulty, and saw--yes, the light must be increasing, since now -she could see dimly Richard’s white face as he lay stark and stiff, -like a dead man, on the charpoy, which was fortunately fixed against -the framework of the cabin at the corner where it had suffered least, -the old bearer crouched beside him, one hand clenched on the pistol, -and Ketty hunched up, like a little old monkey, nearer to herself. -They were defenceless but for the two pistols--even if the charges -were not too damp to fire. The Kajias could shoot them down without -the slightest risk, or--supposing their matchlocks also were useless, -or their powder too precious to waste on such game--kill them with -their knives with little danger to themselves. Why had they not done -it long ago? - -With equal difficulty Eveleen turned again towards them, where they -sat huddled in the bow, with the boatmen as a sort of neutrals -between, and Mr Firozji, with chattering teeth, crouching alone as -though disowned by all parties. The men in the bows were beginning to -lose something of their despairing attitude--taking an interest in -things again, and exchanging a word or two with one another. She could -see them, though in the driving rain she could not hear them; and she -tried to pierce the veil of moisture ahead, and see if land were -visible. But as yet she could see nothing but a grey expanse of angry -water, yellow in streaks with sand, and bearing on its bosom uprooted -trees and brushwood, with the grey sky overhead and the grey curtain -of rain between. She tried to collect her thoughts and devise some way -of getting Richard ashore--when they reached the shore. But what kind -of shore would it be--high and rocky, or the endless flat land over -which the flooded river must now be crawling relentlessly? How could -she decide till she knew? - -The end came suddenly--so suddenly that for the moment she thought she -must have been asleep, and missed what led up to it. The boatmen had -their poles out again, the keel was grating on ground of some sort, -and yet there was still nothing to be seen but the river and the rain. -But to the accustomed eyes of the Kajias more must have been visible, -for they were standing up and talking eagerly. She noticed -indifferently what big strapping fellows they were--picturesque -despite their drenched clothes and shapeless turbans, and the -ringlets, of which they were ordinarily so proud, lying limp and -straight on their shoulders and mingling with their beards. The absurd -reflection occurred to her that the rain must have washed them a -little clean, which would be a strange experience to them. One of them -turned round and kicked Mr Firozji, saying something to him, and the -old Parsee stumbled up from the deck and addressed Eveleen in his -beautiful Persian, which she found so difficult to understand. - -“The boat can go no farther--the water is shallow----” his words -tumbled over one another. “The boatmen will carry the Beebee ashore, -if she will promise not to shoot.” - -“Let them take the Sahib first,” said Eveleen promptly, then -hesitated. How could she let them carry Richard away out of her sight, -not knowing where they were taking him? Better go first herself. And -yet how could she know how roughly they might handle him if she and -her pistol were not there? “Won’t you go first yourself?” she asked -eagerly. “Then you can see that they put Major Ambrose down carefully, -and I will come last.” - -Mr Firozji’s face was ashy. “I fear--I greatly fear,” he stammered. “I -have the conviction that they will kill me if I leave the Sahib and -the Beebee.” - -Clearly there was no help here. She must take the risk. She turned to -Abdul Qaiyam. “Watch over the Sahib, bearer; see that they carry him -properly on the charpoy. Fire the pistol if they are rough, and I will -come back. I can’t be any wetter than I am,” she added to herself, and -rather wondered that the captors should offer to put her ashore -instead of letting her wade. But when she was mounted on the shoulders -of a sturdy boatman, with another close at hand in case of accidents, -she saw how bad the footing was, and how confusing the currents even -in this shallow water. Just as they started she heard a resounding -splash, and looking round, was touched to see that Ketty had -deliberately thrown herself--or rather let herself--into the water -from the boat’s side, and was struggling after her, clutching the -scanty drapery of the second boatman. The water was up to the old -woman’s chest, but she pushed on bravely, and though the men on board -laughed, they did not attempt to stop her. - -How far the two men waded Eveleen did not know. The boat was only -dimly visible as a misty shape through the falling rain when they -reached land as suddenly as they had discerned it earlier. It was land -in the sense of not being covered with water, but it resembled nothing -so much as a sandbank left bare, though not dry, by the retreating -tide. Yet apparently it was not an island, for it seemed to rise -slightly on the side away from the boat, and to continue rising; and -when Eveleen felt her feet on firm ground once more, her spirits went -up with a bound. Anything was better than that dreadful boat and the -company it carried, and when the rain stopped--which it must do soon -now--they would quickly be dry and comfortable, and could look for -some village where there was food and shelter to be found. She said as -much to Ketty as they stood looking after the two men, whose forms -were soon swallowed up in the driving rain. Most incomprehensibly, -Ketty laughed; but before Eveleen could demand the reason, her -cheerful anticipations were rudely contradicted by the sound of a shot -from the boat, with cries and the muffled noise of a struggle. -Unheeding Ketty’s agonised entreaties and attempt to hold her fast, -she dashed into the water and began to wade back. The boat seemed -farther away than she had been--and surely the boatmen were poling her -off? Eveleen gave a great cry as the truth burst upon her, then -struggled on again, though with failing strength, hindered by her -clothes and the treacherous sand. Somehow or other she reached the -boat when the water was up to her shoulders, and clung convulsively to -the gunwale, shrieking to her husband to wake, to escape, to save -himself, to save her. Mr Firozji lay on the deck in a pool of blood, -and the murderers were already stripping off his clothes in search of -booty. In front of his master stood Abdul Qaiyam--a most unheroic -hero, with the pistol wavering in a shaking hand, and a face grey with -fear. A man with a tulwar sprang at Eveleen as she clung to the side, -and brought down his weapon with a horrible sweep. In terror she -relaxed her grasp just in time, and fell back into the water with a -loud cry of despair. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - THE BELLE AND THE BAUBLE. - -/When/ Eveleen came to the surface again--for she had found no footing -when she slipped from the boat’s side--she thought she must be -dreaming. On the gunwale above her stood Richard--a gaunt figure in -drenched pyjamas--laying about him furiously with a folded camp-chair. -She could hear his blows as they fell, and the dismayed cries of the -enemy, though she could not see the fight, and over the side of the -boat lay--dead or unconscious--the man who had struck at her with his -tulwar, his arms stretched limply as though trying to reach the water. -Apparently Richard’s onslaught had cleared a space about him on the -deck, for he turned suddenly, with heaving chest, and looked wildly at -the water--only to see his wife trying to regain her hold of the -gunwale. With a hasty exclamation he flung his weapon away, and -stooped to reach her. But she had the presence of mind to draw back. - -“No, Ambrose--jump! Jump, bearer!” and deliberately she loosed her -grasp and dropped off into the water again. As she had expected, -Richard was after her in a moment, quite uncomprehending, and -decidedly angry. - -“What did you go and do that for? I could have pulled you on board in -a minute. Now those fellows will make off with the boat.” - -“Let them. We’re better without it. There’s no safety for y’on board,” -gasped Eveleen, as she struggled to turn him in the other direction. - -“_Will_ you keep quiet? Any one would think you were determined to be -drowned. If only you won’t struggle, I can----” he had got his hand on -the edge of the boat again, and as Eveleen had done, removed it -hurriedly as some unseen person aimed a blow at it with the butt of a -matchlock. - -“Didn’t I tell you? The land, Ambrose, the land! or we’ll all be -killed if we ain’t drowned.” - -“This way, Sahib, this way!” came the despairing voice of Abdul -Qaiyam, standing on tiptoe some way farther in to get his mouth above -the water. “Destruction awaits your honour if you remain.” - -Convinced at last, Richard struck out in the direction of the voice, -but speedily found his feet on the ground. Then, partly dragging, -partly carrying his wife, he waded towards the shore. Eveleen turned -her head once, with the horrible feeling that the boat was pursuing -them to run them down. But the enemy were merely standing in a row -watching them, and not attempting to follow, though their ready -matchlocks and tulwars showed that they had no amiable feelings -towards the fugitives. Their powder must certainly be wet, or why did -they not fire? - -As the water grew shallower, the bearer came to his master’s help, and -between them they pulled Eveleen along, for she felt as if the last -horror had robbed her of every scrap of strength that remained. But a -warning cry from Ketty floated out to meet them as they waded in. -There was a sudden rush, and before their feet were even on dry land -they were struggling in the midst of a fresh crowd of assailants. -Eveleen had a vague impression of Richard snatching a tulwar from some -one and dealing tremendous blows in a scrimmage which seemed to have -arisen by magic, until a man with a heavy club struck at him from -behind, and he went down like a log. The fighting was so confused that -for a moment the assailants could not get at him with their swords, -and in that moment Eveleen had pushed into the _mêlée_ and thrown -herself upon him, shielding his body with her own, so that no blow -could reach him but through her. She tasted the bitterness of death a -dozen times as the raging combatants tried to drag her away, abused -her, threatened her, but the more frantic their efforts, the tighter -she clung. She could hardly believe that they were really abstaining -from injuring her, but when they drew back, baffled and breathing -hard, she realised that she had not a wound, and made use of the -moment’s respite to interlace her fingers under Richard’s shoulders to -give her a better purchase. She gathered from the tones of the -assailants that when they were not cursing her to one another, they -were adjuring her to cease her useless resistance lest she should -share her husband’s fate, but as they spoke in an unknown tongue she -made no attempt to answer. Some of them seemed to give the matter up -at last, and went off, while the rest still stood round, talking -angrily, and she ventured to relax her strained hold for a moment, -wondering now--when the tension was slackened--what she could do when -the enemy laid aside their strange scruple, and really attacked her. -So little would do it--a cut from one of those keen-edged tulwars -would sever a wrist as easily as a finger, and she would be helpless, -and Richard at their mercy. - -There were fresh voices on the outskirts of the group. These men might -be less scrupulous, and once more she put forth all her strength in a -blind effort to hold--only to hold--Richard so that he might not be -touched. Even his head was covered by her wet hair, and she had -gathered his arms close to his sides when she clasped him first. He -was as safe as the frail rampart of her body could make him. But to -her immeasurable surprise, the sound that fell on her ears was not -that terrible whistle of the swung tulwar, but a voice--a voice -speaking English--a voice that she knew. - -“Miss Evie--it’s never you!” said the voice. “Great heavens, however -did you manage to get here?” - -“If it’s you, Tom Carthew,” she returned, in a voice muffled by her -hair, “call your murderous wretches off first, and then we’ll talk, if -you like.” - -“But they won’t do you no harm, ma’am, nor the gent neither--though -how you came----” - -“Do him no harm--when they have been doing their best to cut him to -pieces? No, go away. I’ll not move while there’s one of them about.” - -Some vigorous speaking on Carthew’s part, and the armed men melted -unwillingly away, only to form a fresh hostile circle at a rather -greater distance. - -“Now, ma’am, they’re well away from you, if you’ll let me help you up. -Captain Lennox won’t thank you----” - -“Captain Lennox! What in the world would I be doing with Captain -Lennox?” with asperity. “Don’t you know Major Ambrose when you see -him?” Eveleen sat up and put back her hair, but refused to rise. - -Tom Carthew might have objected with justice that he had been quite -unable to see Richard before, and could only see the back of his head -now, but he was looking helplessly from him to Eveleen. “Is it a -mistake, or have they played a trick on me?” he demanded slowly. “Were -you in the boat that was to be captured by the Codgers, ma’am--off an -island, nearer t’other side of the river than this one?” - -“We were captured, indeed--by some horrid treachery that I’ve not been -able to make out yet. Was it your doing, will you tell me? And how is -it”--with sudden recollection--“that you wouldn’t be dead, as we heard -you were?” - -“We needn’t go into that, ma’am--though I’ve often wished since that I -was. But that boat----” - -But Eveleen would not suffer any evasion. “We heard you were killed -because you refused to fire on us in the Agency--your own people. Was -it true or was it not?” - -“Not that I was killed,” sullenly. - -“Nor that you refused to fire, then. Tom Carthew, I never expected to -find you a traitor!” - -“You wait till you’re promised to have your nose and ears and eyelids -cut off, and be tied down and stuck out in the sun for the ants and -the hornets and the vultures and the pi dogs to finish, Miss Evie! See -if you wouldn’t fire then. And I didn’t go for to fire straight, -neither. You tell me if any soul in the Residency had a finger hurt -through my shooting.” - -“No, I believe they did not,” reluctantly. “So you played both sides -false. And since then you have gone from bad to worse--laying plots -against your own old friends.” - -“It’s a cheat, I tell you--a nasty trick they’ve played me. I was bid -make a plan for catching Captain Lennox, the General’s nephew, so that -the Khan might hold him for a hostage and bargain with his uncle.” - -“And why would you be plotting against poor Captain Lennox--who never -did you any harm?” - -“Why but because they can make me do what they like now, just by -threatening to hand me over to the General?” - -“I see. Then there’s nothing you’d baulk at now? Indeed and I’m sorry -for you, Tom Carthew!” - -“That you may well be, ma’am--but there is something I wouldn’t do, -and these chaps know it. They didn’t dare ask me betray an English -lady into their hands--least of all you. So they choused me with the -tale that it was Captain Lennox they wanted. You believe that?” - -“I do, I do; it explains things. But d’ye see now, as you have got us -into this hole, it’s for you to get us out of it. And how will you do -that?” - -“Now you’ve beat me, ma’am. Not that there’s anything for _you_ to be -afraid of--in the way of bad treatment, that is----” - -“In what way, then? And what about Major Ambrose?” - -Carthew hesitated. “I’m afraid--as you’ve had all your trouble for -nothing, Miss Evie.” - -“What d’ye mean?” her voice rose to a shriek, and she flung herself on -her husband again. “Bad luck to you, Tom, to be giving me such a -fright! He ain’t dead a bit. I can feel his heart beat.” - -“But it might be all the same as if he was, ma’am--better, -perhaps----” - -“_Will_ you tell me what you mean? Why would they kill him, if that’s -what y’are driving at? If it’s a hostage they want, sure he’ll do them -every bit as well as Captain Lennox. The General would make no more -consequence of his nephew than he would of any other officer--sure you -know that yourself?” - -“It ain’t a hostage he wants at all, I see it now. Think it over for -yourself, ma’am--remembering that blue stone of yours that’s in the -Khan’s hands. He thinks if he hadn’t had it, the General would have -beat him and sent him out of the country with the rest of his family. -It’s done that much good to him, but not near all the good it might -do, because you’ve been contrary wishing it all the time.” - -“Sure if that’s all, I’ll wish it--and him--all the good in the world -except to beat the General. Fetch it here, Tom, and you will be -surprised at the good wishes I’ll pour over it and instil into it and -soak it with! Any mortal thing the gentleman can think of to ask for -he shall get, so far as it depends on me, if he’ll only lend us a boat -or some camels to get back to the army and a doctor with. But now be -quick, or I’ll go fast asleep and forget all the benefits I’m longing -to bestow on him!” - -Carthew hesitated again. “I take it you wouldn’t be willing to come to -the camp alone?” he asked slowly. - -She caught his meaning in an instant. “And leave Major Ambrose here? -Shame on you that you’d even ask me such a question! If he stays here, -I stay; and if I go to the camp or anywhere else, he goes too. And if -anything happens him--well, that blue stone will crack in pieces with -the ill wishes I’ll put on it before they’re done with me. And that’s -all I have to say to you.” - -“All right, ma’am; I had to have it from your own lips, you see. Now I -know what to say to these fellows, and to the Khan too. I mean to take -a high tone with him, after his dirty trick, and I think I see a -way---- But don’t hope for too much,” earnestly, “for if anybody ever -was in a hole, you and your good gentleman are--not to speak of me, -that don’t count.” - -Eveleen’s usual quickness of mind and speech was deserting her under -the pressure of fatigue, and she could not even find kind words in -which to reassure Carthew. She watched him dully as he went off to the -circle of Arabits, who had been looking on and listening suspiciously -as the colloquy proceeded, and spoke eagerly and confidentially to one -and another. Guessing that the alternative instantly present to their -minds was to rush upon Richard and rid themselves of him as they had -intended, she was ready to protect him again as she had done before, -but she could not bring her mind to bear upon less pressing issues. -The Arabits were not easy to convince, that was evident, and she -wondered whether they were trying to induce Carthew to keep her in -talk or distract her attention in some way while they made an end of -Richard--such a quick and easy thing to do, with so many against one! -But she had confidence, now as heretofore, in the streak of -faithfulness which formed part of the renegade’s weak nature. He might -betray his compatriots as a body, but the friend of his early days, -never! Her confidence was justified. When mind and body were alike -worn out, and she was almost dropping asleep as she sat, he returned -to say that the Arabits consented to carry Richard with them to the -camp, that Kamal-ud-din might have the responsibility of deciding what -was to be done with him. A camel-litter was brought forward--intended -for Eveleen’s own use--and Richard was lifted and laid upon the -cushions. It was the kind of long palanquin called in Persia a -_takhtrawan_, and Eveleen was able to climb in as well, and settle -herself in the place which otherwise would have been Ketty’s. Looking -out anxiously before the blinds were drawn down, she saw the two -servants accommodated--uncomfortably, but safely--behind two -camel-riders, and then the camels which bore the litter rose -grumblingly to their feet in response to the shaking of their -neck-chains of blue beads and tin bells by the drivers, and she had -time to remember that she was wet and cold, horribly hungry and most -incongruously thirsty, and in spite of all, consumed with sleep. But -how easy it would be for the enemy to keep watch upon her through the -semi-transparent grass blinds, and so find an opportunity of striking -at Richard! With infinite difficulty she crawled along the creaking, -swaying box until she could pillow her head upon her husband’s breast, -and then twisted a tress of her hair tightly round one of his buttons, -so that if any attempt was made to reach him, she must be disturbed. -Then at last she was able to resign herself to sleep, and in spite of -her cramped position, the shaking of the _takhtrawan_, the loud voices -outside, and the sun which presently blazed down upon the march, slept -peacefully for hours. She did not wake until the sudden kneeling of -the camels roused her to the knowledge that they had reached the camp, -where she naturally expected to face the man whose fate was perversely -linked with hers by the blue stone. But she found she was fortunate, -for Kamal-ud-din was not there at all. He had hastened back to his -army some distance to the north, and Tamas Sahib, who had so -successfully carried through the capture, was to proceed with his -captives to Umarganj at once. This meant that only the extreme heat of -the day was to be spent in the few small tents which had been left for -their accommodation, and which were like so many ovens on the -shadeless sand. Happily the storm had left the nullahs and hollows of -the neighbourhood well filled, and by means of Abdul Qaiyam, and with -the aid of Tom Carthew, Eveleen requisitioned a _salitah_, the strong -piece of canvas which, roped over all, serves to protect and hold -together the various packages making up a camel’s burden, and this, -dipped in water and hung over the _takhtrawan_, made it much cooler. -Richard remained in the same unconscious state, and a little -rice-water was all they could manage to force down his throat. Abdul -Qaiyam promised that when they halted for the night he would try to -make some broth, and with that Eveleen had to be content. While the -bearer attended to his master, she was thankful to submit her own -dishevelled person to Ketty’s ministrations, for it was torment to -have her hair hanging about her face in the heat. The brushes and -other things the old woman had pocketed--with whatever intention--came -in usefully now, and Eveleen felt that if only Ketty were dumb, she -could be quite fond of her for once. As things were, she was obliged -to pay for her services by listening to her grumbles. - -The halt was short enough, and the march that followed a long one, and -so it went on for several days. Afterwards Eveleen thought she must -have been light-headed with fatigue--so confused were her -recollections of those unending rides in the _takhtrawan_, punctuated -by brief periods of blessed repose on firm ground, from which she was -invariably roused the moment she had fallen asleep. Makeshift meals, -cooked in some mysterious way by Abdul Qaiyam and all tasting of sand; -distant glimpses of Carthew, looking anxious and careworn, but -conjuring up a reassuring nod when he found her looking at him; -perpetual grumbling from Ketty, for which there was only too much -excuse and over all the ever-present sense of threatening peril, which -kept her always in a fever of devising expedients to safeguard Richard -and not let him out of her sight--this was the waking history of those -days for Eveleen. She did not know whether to be thankful or alarmed -that Richard should remain in a state of coma, nor whether she ought -to try to rouse him or not. The blow on the head had not fractured the -skull--of so much she and the bearer were able to assure one -another--but whether there was concussion they were not surgeons -enough to know. On the whole, it seemed better to leave the patient -undisturbed--save by the incessant noise and movement going on around -him--and trust that nature might be healing him in her own way. - -How long they took to reach Umarganj Eveleen would have found it very -difficult to say. It might have been a week, it might have been -more--or less--before the joyful shouts of the escort announced that -they were within sight of their journey’s end, and she peeped through -a private spy-hole she had discovered and enlarged in the grass blind -to see what the place was like. There was nothing magical and -mysterious about it as there had been about the vanished Sultankot; it -was simply a straggling mud town, dominated by a mud fort. It was -surprising where its builders had managed to get so much mud in such a -dry region, but she supposed they made their bricks in the rainy -season, and piled them up hurriedly on the first fine day, lest they -should all melt into mud again. She noticed that Carthew led the way -round the town, so that they could reach the fort without passing -through more than a small part of it, and that he was evidently -anxious to get in as quickly as possible. The people were largely -defrauded of their spectacle, for only a few were aware of the arrival -in time to rush to their house-tops, where Eveleen heard them -chattering excitedly overhead as the camel-litter went swinging by. -There was some discussion when the gate of the fort was reached, -between Carthew and a stout negro who was waiting there--clearly an -official of some importance--on the subject of the disposal of the -prisoners, as it seemed, and it appeared that Carthew won, for he took -matters into his own hands and bade the camel-drivers follow him, -while his vanquished opponent strolled away with a contemptuous cock -of his nose, as Eveleen called it, which nature had rendered wholly -unnecessary. - -The place in which Eveleen found herself, when she had crawled out of -the litter, which was taken from off its camels and carried bodily -inside, was apparently a kind of guard-room, cool enough with its -thick walls and high roof of beaten mud supported on wooden beams, but -open along the whole of one side, where a series of squat blunted -arches led out upon a verandah, which in its turn gave upon what -looked like the court of the guard--to judge by the number of stalwart -Arabits in all stages of dress and equipment who were strolling about -or preparing their food or sitting peacefully on similar verandahs. - -“I’ll send some of the slaves in to clean the place up a bit for you, -ma’am,” said Carthew, his look of trouble more pronounced than ever, -“and some stuff to serve for a curtain to the arches. There’s _chiks_ -you can let down till it comes, but for any sake don’t you go for to -set a foot beyond ’em. And don’t you have nothing to say to anybody -that comes out of the zenana gate opposite”--he indicated a massive -iron-bound portal, guarded by sentries sitting or lounging about it, -on the other side of the courtyard,--“nor put your lips to any food, -or sherbet, or what not, that may be brought you out of there, on no -account whatever. And I’ll go straight to the Khan--who’s got here -before us, after all--and do what I can to put a little decency into -him, if he kills me for it!” - -He spoke so strongly, almost savagely, that Eveleen felt her fears -rising again. “Won’t you tell me now, what is it y’are afraid of?” she -asked timidly, for her. - -“If I must, I will, when I come back. I’m leaving two men that I can -trust on your verandah here, and you keep behind the _chiks_, and -never leave your good gentleman for a minute--but that I know you -won’t do. And if I don’t come back, you’ll know that traitor though I -may be--I did my best for you, Miss Evie.” - -“Indeed and I know it now, Tom, and I thank you for it with all my -heart, and so would Major Ambrose if he could speak.” - -She held out her hand, and he wrung it and went off. Abdul Qaiyam and -one of the guards let down the _chiks_, and in the semi-darkness -Eveleen retired to the litter again, while two half-starved, -furtive-looking youths came in with inadequate brooms and swept the -more obvious dirt from the middle of the floor into the corners. Then -they departed, and there remained the problem of arranging the room, -with the aid of one charpoy, so doubtful in appearance that Eveleen -declined to make use of it, and the cushions from the litter. These -were spread on the _salitah_ on the floor, and Richard laid on -them--across a corner, in which Eveleen determined to fix her abode, -with the litter and the charpoy as flanking defences on either hand. -What Carthew’s vague warnings portended she could not divine, but she -had a horror of being snatched away unawares and leaving Richard -unprotected. - -It was some time before Carthew appeared, and then he was accompanied -by men bearing trays of food--each viand occupying the exact middle of -an unnecessarily large tray,--which were received from them with joy -by the bearer, and surveyed with approval even by Ketty. But while the -servants were busy squabbling over the best way of arranging the food, -Carthew was stooping across Richard to speak to Eveleen. - -“It was just as you thought, ma’am. My party had orders to kill Major -Ambrose, but on no account to lay a finger on yourself. If it hadn’t -been they were afraid of doin’ harm to you, they’d have killed him a -dozen times over. You saved his life when you threw yourself upon -him.” - -“Of course. Why else would I have done it? Well, and what harm will -poor Major Ambrose ever have done to the Khan that he should hate him -so? Why is it at all?” - -“Don’t you remember what I told you about that blue stone of yours, -ma’am? They call you the Woman of the Seal, and the Khan thinks he -won’t have his full luck till you two are together again--till you -have the seal and he has you. So--if you’ll excuse me mentioning -it--his notion was to give you back the stone and take you into his -zenana.” - -“Sure the poor man little guesses the sort of time he’d have!” - -“I’m glad you can take it like this, ma’am!” - -The reproving tone sobered Eveleen. “But you can’t mean--it’s too -ridiculous entirely--that a man can propose to himself deliberately to -murder a woman’s husband, and then marry her himself?” - -“It’s their way here,” apologetically. “It’s a--a sort of compensation -to the lady, if you understand me?” - -“I do not, and you can tell your friend the Khan so.” - -“It ain’t my fault, ma’am, believe me. I’m doing my best for -you--honest. I told the Khan you belonged to a particular tribe of -English whose women were uncommonly sought after for wives, on account -of their being so faithful.” - -“Indeed, and that’s one way of discouraging him!” - -“But I told him they were so wrapped up in their husbands that if the -husband was killed the wife went and died, ma’am.” - -“I would--I know I would!” agreed Eveleen. “That was very true, Tom. -And was he convinced?” - -“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, ma’am; but I’m sure it made an -impression on him.” The luckless man refrained, naturally enough, from -adding that he had assured Kamal-ud-din the lady’s husband was at the -point of death, and if he were allowed to die in peace, and his wife -to tend him to the last and mourn for him a certain number of days, -the conventions of her tribe would be satisfied, and its daughter free -to marry again. He had a suspicion that Eveleen could hardly be -expected to accept this point of view. “If you’ll remember to keep -that up if he should insist on coming in here----” - -“Keep that up? He’ll hear a good deal more than that if he forces -himself upon me! Tell me now--will I starve myself a little, just to -look more like dying?” - -“I wouldn’t, ma’am. You may want all your strength any time--there’s -no knowing. Not but what I’ve done all I could to frighten the -Khan--swearing to him that if he lays a finger on you the General will -cut him up into little pieces, and all that. But you can’t tell.” - -“I understand. I’ll know what to do.” - -“Then good-bye for the present, ma’am. I’ll do my best to get word to -you first if he does think of comin’ this way, but I mayn’t have the -chance.” He went out dolefully, and Eveleen made a face after him. - -“Y’are a faithful creature, I believe, but I greatly wish y’were a bit -more cheerful!” she said. “Just when I’d like a little help in keeping -up my spirits----” - -Before she could finish the sentence, his face was poked in again. -“Ma’am, he’s comin’ now! For Heaven’s sake, keep cool, and remember -I’m nothing but the interpreter!” - -The accents were so full of terror that Eveleen felt her heart sink. -But only for a moment. She stooped over her unconscious husband, and -touched his forehead with infinite tenderness. “Ah, my dear, wouldn’t -I fight for myself if need be? and have I not you to fight for as -well, when you’d be fighting for me if you could? Don’t be afraid now; -your wife is by your side.” - -She put her hand for a moment to her waist, to make sure that the -little dagger there was ready in case of need. She and Abdul Qaiyam -had both lost their pistols either in leaving the boat or in the -struggle on the sand, but she had discovered that the old man -possessed a dagger, and demanded it summarily. She had carried it ever -since, safely concealed in the folds of her dressing-gown, and had -trained herself sternly not to betray its presence by letting her -fingers wander in that direction. Now she assured herself it could be -drawn in a flash, and stood waiting. It would look more unconcerned if -she remained seated in the Khan’s presence, but it would be easier to -take her at a disadvantage before she could rise from the ground. - -There was a warning cry outside, and then the blind was lifted, and -three men came in--Tom Carthew, the negro who had been waiting at the -gate, and a youth richly dressed and jewelled, with a handsome -effeminate face--not unprepossessing in appearance, but like all his -family bearing the marks of dissipation. Eveleen told herself -triumphantly that he shrank under her gaze of righteous indignation. -She did not realise that in the semi-darkness of the room, her white -figure and wrathful eyes might be alarming. She bowed curtly as he -approached, then her hand flashed out. - -“No further, please. Stop there,” and though the hand was empty, -Kamal-ud-din stopped short a yard from the bed, to look down curiously -at Richard’s gaunt form and sharpened features. - -“He is certainly very near death,” he muttered to Tom Carthew--much to -the latter’s relief. “Tell the Beebee she has nothing to fear. Her -husband shall die in peace, and be honourably buried.” - -Exercising a wide discretion, Carthew gave the first part of the -message only, adding various polite assurances for the sake of -verisimilitude. Eveleen’s stern aspect did not relax. - -“Tell him I expected nothing less,” she said, which--giving the Khan’s -well-known magnanimity and benevolence as a reason--Carthew did. - -“Tell the Beebee I am about to restore her what should never have been -taken from her,” said Kamal-ud-din--adding, with an unpleasant laugh, -“What one husband steals, another gives back,” and Carthew rejoiced -that his master had chosen to speak in Arabit rather than Persian. -With obvious reluctance to let it out of his grip, the negro produced -the Seal of Solomon, still suspended from its steel chain, and held it -out for Eveleen to take. She made the slightest gesture of rebuke, and -motioned to Abdul Qaiyam, who brought forward one of the trays on -which the food had been sent in, and receiving the pendant, presented -it respectfully to his mistress. For the first time her eyes ceased to -rest coldly on the Khan, evidently to his relief, as she stooped and -laid the Seal on Richard’s breast, passing the chain round his neck. - -“I receive the trust as an honour, tell his Highness,” she said to -Carthew, “and I place his treasure in the safest spot known to me. As -long as I live, and Major Ambrose lives, no harm can come to it. If it -is removed or injured, the fault will not be ours.” - -“Tell the Beebee she can be at ease,” said Kamal-ud-din, rather -hastily. “No harm can befall her.” - -“Tell his Highness I thank him for his promise of protection, and -won’t detain him longer,” said Eveleen, and to her relief as much as -his own, Kamal-ud-din went. She heard no more of him till the next -day, when Carthew came to ask whether she needed anything. - -“You did fine yesterday, ma’am!” he said admiringly--“almost -frightened the Khan, one might say.” - -“Sure I’m glad ’twas the right thing,” she answered wearily. “’Twas -all I could do not to break down in the middle, and throw myself at -his feet, and cry and entreat him to let us go.” - -“I’m glad you didn’t, ma’am. His Highness was all taken aback. He has -gone away to his army quite meek, as you might say. In fact, I have -hopes of his letting you and the Major and your servants go away -quietly when he comes again, but don’t you build too much upon it.” - -It was well for Eveleen if she did not, for Carthew was too sanguine. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - BRIAN TO THE RESCUE. - -/Visiting/ his various friends, and hearing all that had happened -since the battle and his wound, Brian passed a pleasant three days at -Khanpur. Nor was his enjoyment sensibly mitigated by the thunderstorm -on his third night there--when he should have been returning to -Qadirabad,--which kept him a prisoner for twenty-four hours more. In -fact, he assured himself comfortably that ’twas a good thing entirely -it had come, since it would show Evie the absurdity of her plan of -getting down to Bab-us-Sahel before the floods began. Another pleasant -idle day, rejoicing in the temporary coolness of the air after the -rain, and he started back with a column returning for supplies and -bringing a few sick to the base hospital. Great was his astonishment, -when he rode up to the Residency in the morning, to find the servants -smoking on the verandah in an undress which made it plain that no -master was at hand. Their astonishment equalled his own, but they were -past-masters in the art of keeping up appearances, and in an -incredibly short space of time hookahs had been huddled out of sight, -_pagris_ donned or properly twisted, and the garments of office -hurried on. The butler, as became his importance, was the first who -was in a position to greet the young Sahib. “Sahib and Beebee done -gone,” was the burden of his reply to every question asked him, and at -last Brian gave up the attempt to obtain further information; and -bidding his own servant get his things in, and see after breakfast and -a bath, rode round to the hospital to question the surgeon. The -surgeon received him with ill-timed jocularity. - -“Ha, ha! so your sister has stole a march on you, young man--eh? No -nice lazy time for you this morning--find a boat and set off after -her; that’s about the ticket, ain’t it?” - -“If the river is low enough. How in the world would she contrive to -start yesterday?” - -“Man alive, not yesterday! They went three evenings ago--two days -after you left.” - -“Three evenings ago? But that was before the storm! Will you tell me, -was she mad enough to start down the river with that coming on?” - -“They would take shelter somewhere. They would have got a good way, -and it may not have been as bad lower down as it was here.” But the -doctor’s startled face belied his comforting words. “Upon my soul, -Delany, I hope they didn’t come in for it on the open river. The rain -was enough to swamp any boat.” - -“And how would it be better if they were cot in a narrow channel--with -the water sweeping over banks and islands and everything? ’Twas a -great storm, I tell you. We have had to go miles and miles round -coming back here--with lakes and rivers where there was dry land on -our way out.” - -“Well, don’t I know it was a great storm--with three of the hospital -tents blown away bodily, and the whole staff working all night in the -wet to get the sick under cover? You can see for yourself how the -river has risen--look at the trees there, standing in the water.” -Suddenly realising that he was not very consoling, he changed his -tone. “But it don’t follow it was as bad where they were. They had -good boats and strong crews, and an armed guard, so there were plenty -of hands if help was needed. Old Firozji from the Bazar was going -down, and offered them to share his boat, but they had one to -themselves after all.” - -“That’s how my sister managed it, then. I wondered who had I to thank -for helping her play the fool in this style. I wouldn’t envy the -feelings of any man that helped her get away--now.” - -“’Suppose you are alluding to me,” said the surgeon gruffly. “Well, -you know your sister as well as I do, and you can tell whether she’s -much inclined to listen to advice that don’t fall in with her wishes. -She was determined to get off, thinking you’d be following -immediately. And I confess, the weather had been so sultry for two or -three days, I never thought of a storm except as a relief--quickly -come and quickly gone, you know. But this one took a whole day to come -up, and lasted proportionately. But then, as I say, it may not have -been as bad where they were. At any rate, we have heard nothing of any -disaster, and you know how quickly the natives get wind of that sort -of thing.” - -“But sure they must have been miles and miles away by that time! -Suppose they were wrecked on an uninhabited part of the shore, or one -of those desolate islands in the middle of the river--how would the -news possibly get about? Well, you were right when you said ’twas a -fast boat and an early start for me, for I must be off after ’em at -once. Think of it! Ambrose helpless, and my sister alone with those -blackguards of boatmen--for the old Parsee would be no good,--not to -mention the Codgers on one bank, and Kamal-ud-din’s people anywhere on -t’other.” - -“I thought Kamal-ud-din was penned in at Umarganj?” - -“Penned in he may have been, but he’s got out of the pen--broke back -somehow to the river again. The General was very anxious about it--and -he would be worse if he knew this. I was greatly displeased when he -bid me escort my sister to Bab-us-Sahel--unless she gave up the -thought of the journey of her own free will--before going back to -duty, but I’m thankful now! Not that the old lad would have been hard -on me for going off after her, but I wouldn’t like to have exceeded my -leave. Can you coax the right boat out of any one for me? If only -there’d be a steamer in just now!” - -“Wait a minute. You can’t go rushing off like this. I’ll send a _chit_ -to the Marine Superintendent to tell him what you want, and say we’ll -both be round there after breakfast. But before you start off, we’ll -call upon old Firozji’s brothers in the Bazar. They may have had news -from him, and then we shall know it’s all right. Your quad. is -tired--eh? I can lend you a tat--or there’s that little Arab of your -sister’s, just come down by boat from Sahar. Do him good to stretch -his legs gently a bit. She must have forgot the General said he might -come down with the cavalry horses when she went off in such a hurry.” - -“We might find out something, I suppose,” said Brian wretchedly, “but -I don’t like losing a moment.” - -“Of course we may. And what’s the good of going off without getting -hold of all the information you can? If I thought it was any good, I -should say stay and eat your breakfast quietly, and let me go to the -Bazar, but I know it wouldn’t be.” - -“Not a scrap!” agreed Brian, and would barely consent to snatch a -mouthful of breakfast while Bajazet was being saddled and brought -round. As they rode to the Bazar, the surgeon was full of cheerful -anticipations. Of course Mr Firozji would have sent word to his -partners of his safety--he was a fool not to have thought of it -before--the Parsees were well known for their family affection. But -when Mr Firozji’s brother appeared, with many bows and smiles, to -enquire the pleasure of the honourable gentlemen, he had nothing to -tell. Certainly he had not expected any messenger--the boats would -have been far beyond the limits within which the storm was likely to -be dangerous. He was quite sure his brother was safe and well. Had it -been otherwise he would have felt it here, in the heart--slapping an -organ which was well protected by many layers of adipose tissue. He -did not look to hear anything until his brother had reached -Bab-us-Sahel--why should he? And the young Sahib was alarmed about his -sister--feared she might have been wrecked? That was natural, but--if -he might be pardoned the word--foolish. How could she possibly have -journeyed in greater safety than under the care of his brother and the -protection of his guard? - -“Would it be a military guard?” asked Brian. - -The Parsee was voluble in his disclaimer. No, no; the merchandise on -board the boats was immensely valuable to the poor merchants whose -means of livelihood it was, but of no importance to the Government, so -that a guard could not be asked for. Mr Firozji had hired a -dozen--er--respectable men, well known to him for their courage and -fidelity, and armed them with swords and shields for the journey. - -“Not much good against the Codgers’ matchlocks,” remarked Brian, when -they had taken their leave. The surgeon was meditating, and did not -respond for a moment. - -“Did it strike you there was anything queer about the business?” he -burst out suddenly. “Think!” - -“It struck me the ‘er--respectable men’ would probably be some of our -late opponents. That was all.” - -“Then you missed something far more fishy. Why was there no military -guard? It might not have been granted simply to protect Parsee -merchandise, but for an officer and his wife it would have been -forthcoming in a moment. The General would break any man that refused -it. Then why wasn’t it asked for?” - -“How would I know? Because my sister refused to wait while the -application was made possibly.” - -“Possibly, but why should old Fatty there not have said so? Of course -old Firozji may have thought his kind of guard would come cheaper, and -that Ambrose and his wife would be such valuable prizes for the -Codgers that he himself could slip away unnoticed if there was a -scrimmage. But this is all nonsense. It’s most unlikely there has been -any scrimmage at all.” - -“Of course; why would there be?” asked Brian dreamily. “No doubt the -old sinner is sailing happily down the river, congratulating himself -on the money he’s saved. But all the same,” inconsequently, “I’m -certain something has happened. I have a feeling----” - -“So have all of us when we are anxious, but ninety-nine times out of a -hundred it all ends in smoke, and we are precious proud afterwards to -think we never had a second’s doubt all along. But tell you what. You -take one of the General’s spies with you--to look out for things -generally and cross-question anybody you may meet. If old Puggy ain’t -out on duty, he’s the man you want. A bullet chipped a bit off his -heel at Mahighar--he was not on the field in the way of business, but -just looking on at the show--and he’s been laid up since. But I know -he is out again, and he’s an uncommonly downy old bird. I’ll hunt him -up while you get your traps together.” - -The search was successful, and when Brian and his bearer arrived at -the boat the doctor was there in triumph with an undersized elderly -native of indeterminate features and an expression of guileless -simplicity. It was almost impossible to believe that this was one of -the General’s famous secret agents, of whom he boasted that several -were in each camp of his enemies, and not a few in their very -households, but there was his name to prove it. He possessed a -complicated and sonorous name of his own, but Sir Harry had a short -way with such luxuries. He dubbed the man Puggy [_Pagi_, tracker] as -his tracker _par excellence_, and from such august lips the -undignified appellation was accepted as an honour and flaunted with -pride. Colonel Welborne, whose permission had to be obtained for him -to accompany Brian, was interested in the young man’s journey, and -came down to see them off. - -“Hope you’ll find everything all right,” he said, “but in case of -accidents I have given you a sergeant’s guard of sepoys in Hindustani -dress, [mufti] so that you won’t attract undue attention. If the -Codgers take you by surprise, they may come in useful. But look you -here: no fighting--unless you have to extricate yourself from an -ambuscade, that is. If you find your sister is in the hands of the -Codgers--even if she is in the camp which you are outside of, don’t -try to rescue her on your own account. You can’t do it, and it will -only lead to her being killed or carried off into the hills. And if -you get yourself killed, how are we ever to know what has happened to -her? Just let Puggy do the talking and manage things his own way. If -she is in the camp he will find out without their knowing it, and -he’ll bring you off peacefully to go back and rescue her another day. -D’ye understand me?” - -“I do,” said Brian reluctantly; “and I’m greatly obliged to you for -sparing him, sir. But listen, now: if I find her marooned on an -island, it’s myself will take the business in hand, and Puggy may go -hang!” - -No degree of anxiety could depress Brian’s tongue, though his heart -might be heavy, and the little group of friends on the -landing-stage--at the very foot of the cliff now--praised his -cheerfulness to one another as they sped him on his way with good -wishes. After all, nothing untoward might have happened; he would -catch up his sister and go down with her to Bab-us-Sahel, then return -by land with his guard--since by that time the river was fairly -certain to be impossible for small boats. - -The first day and a half of the voyage was unimportant, as was only -natural, since whatever had happened must presumably have happened -lower down. After that, when they had arrived at the stretch of river -which the boats might be supposed to have reached on the night of the -storm, a close watch was kept on the right-hand bank--the scene of the -activities of the Kajias. Boats going down the river would be inclined -to keep more or less to this side, and there was no apparent reason -for crossing to the other, though it also must be searched in the -course of the return voyage if no traces had been found earlier. A -forlorn cluster of shrubs and low trees, rising again out of the water -which had almost submerged them, could tell no tale, for the floods -had washed away all signs of the boatmen’s evening meal on the island -in the shelter of which the boats had been moored. A day after it had -been passed, when Brian was beginning to fear that the whole flotilla -had been swamped without leaving a trace, a trace appeared at last, -though not a cheering one. On a sandy beach, below the flood-mark, -half in and half out of the water, lay a battered boat, its mast and -its cabin gone. Brian saw it first, and his inarticulate shout -summoned the tracker and the soldiers to his side. It seemed to him -ages before his boatmen, poling carefully, brought their craft as near -as it was safe to go, and he could let himself overboard and swim to -the derelict. He did not notice that Puggy lingered to say something -to the havildar in charge of the sepoys before joining him. There was -nothing to show whether the boat was that they sought, save that it -had evidently been fitted up for European use; but though supports and -hooks remained, all the fittings were gone. It might be that the water -had swept it nearly bare, or it might have been systematically -gutted--there was nothing to show which, save a large dark stain on -the deck. Brian bent down to look at this, touched it, and turned -mutely to the tracker for his opinion. As he lifted his head a slight -movement among the bushes fringing the beach attracted his attention, -and he realised that he and his companion were the target for a dozen -or more matchlocks with fierce faces behind them. He was -thunder-struck, but Puggy smiled triumphantly, and Brian saw why. The -seeming peaceful passengers in their own boat had suddenly produced -muskets, and were lining the gunwale in warlike guise. It struck Brian -that if shooting began, they two were infallibly doomed, but the -tracker was so proud of his precaution that he had not the heart to -spoil his pleasure. The moral effect was certainly all that could be -desired, for a wild-looking elderly man, with a red-dyed beard, stood -up in the bushes, and demanded with righteous indignation-- - -“Why does the Sahib seek to steal what Allah and the river have given -us?” - -“Suffer me to answer, Sahib,” said the tracker hurriedly; then to the -chief, “The Sahib seeks news of his sister, who embarked with her -husband before the storm in such a boat as this. Is there word of -her?” - -“Nay,” was the reply. “The boat drifted ashore as ye see it--broken -and empty. Of any Sahib or Beebee we know nothing.” - -“Nor of whose blood this is on the deck?” - -“Nothing. How should we? Water has washed it, sun has dried it, maybe -many times over. There was no dead body on board--that at least we -know.” - -“Here is a bullet sticking in the woodwork and another stain of blood. -Are any of your men wounded?” - -“Have I not said there was no one on board, dead or alive?” The -chief’s tone betrayed his contempt for the very palpable trap set for -him. “How then could they fire on my men?” - -“Yet this bullet belongs to a Farangi pistol, and the Sahib’s guns are -all gone. Here is the rack in which they were placed, ready to his -hand if he desired to shoot at a pelican or a crocodile, after the -manner of sahibs; but it is empty. The guns could not be washed away -and the rack left.” - -“Nay, but”--triumphantly--“this Sahib was sick, and his guns were not -set out in the rack. They were----” sudden confusion as he realised -how hopelessly he had given himself away, then a show of violent -indignation to cover it. “They were washed away, I say. Who are you, O -base-born one, to cast doubt upon my words?” - -With extraordinary self-command for a native, Puggy ignored the -attempt to lead him aside into personalities--ignored also the chief’s -self-betrayal, and spoke sadly and meekly. “Truly I am nothing--the -meanest of the attendants on the great and rich Sahib here, who seeks -news of his sister. So much wealth would he pour out on any camp that -had received her and shown her kindness that the poorest man in it -would wear silk and kincob thereafter.” - -The chief was interested--dangerously interested. His eyes wandered to -the line of sepoys, then to his own men, very visible now in the -bushes in the excitement of listening to what was going on. Clearly he -was calculating whether the greater numbers on his side would -counterbalance the weight of the soldiers’ superior weapons if he made -a sudden dash. The matter was difficult to decide. “I perceive that -this Sahib is one of the Bahadar Jang’s young men--so handsome and -noble of aspect is he,” he temporised. “Is it true that he is also -rich?” - -“He could take up the riches of Delhi in one hand,” was the boastful -answer. “And to his wealth he adds a yet more admirable prudence. All -his possessions he confided, before starting on this journey, to a -virtuous friend of his father’s, who has sworn upon the Gospel not to -part with so much as an anna unless the Sahib presents himself to ask -for it in person.” - -“There are messages to be sent--letters.” - -“The friend is pledged to pay no attention to them. After the lapse of -a certain time, he will employ the riches in building tombs--greater -and more magnificent than the wonder of Agra--to the memory of the -Sahib and his sister, where women desiring sons may come and entreat -the lady’s favour.” - -“To my mind it is better to enrich the living than build tombs for the -dead,” said the baffled chief sourly. - -“It is the Sahib’s pleasure, and who shall gainsay it? But far more -gladly would he bestow of his wealth on any who could restore to him -his sister living, or even tell him where she may be found.” - -“The rain of riches passes over the field of the poverty-stricken, and -leaves on it not a single drop. Since we have nothing to sell that you -and your Sahib desire to buy, leave us our poor wreck that the waters -have brought us, and go your way--unless,” with a fresh gleam of hope -and covetousness, “the wealthy and high-born Sahib will deign to visit -our tents?” - -“Nay, he is bent on an errand of life and death. He has no time to -pass the coolness of sherbet over his tongue, nor to exchange sweet -phrases with a host,” was the answer, much to Brian’s disappointment. -He remonstrated vigorously with the tracker when they had left the -derelict--which was far too much damaged for them to think of salving -it--and returned to their own boat. It was quite certain that this -little knot of Kajias knew more than they would tell; what was more -likely than that the passengers from the stranded boat were at hand in -their very camp? Puggy answered patiently and reprovingly. - -“Surely the eyes of the presence are blinded by his grief, or he would -see that the Beebee cannot be in this camp. For see the chief, that -son of Iblis with whom we have just spoken--whose meat is covetousness -and his drink extortion--did he not desire to bring the presence -thither, in the hope of falling treacherously upon him and holding him -to ransom? And if the Beebee were there already, would the chief not -show, for a lure to the presence, some writing from her hand, were it -but a scrawl with a blackened stick upon a broken board from the -boat?--or if she were dead, then some jewel from her body, or even a -tress of her hair, that the presence might recognise his truth? But he -brings forward nothing; therefore it is certain she is not there. Yet -he knows more than he pretends, as the presence says.” - -“That he does! ’Twas a bad slip when he admitted he knew the Major -Sahib was sick.” - -“Was that all the presence noticed? Nay,” as Brian turned and looked -at him, “did he not note the _kurti_ [long coat] worn by the chief, -that it was of rich silk such as the Parsees wear, and that it had -been washed? Or that one of the men who stood up in the bushes had in -his girdle such a knife as the Farangis use at table, with a haft of -ivory nearly as long as the blade? There was more in the boat when it -came ashore than there is now.” - -“Then what do you make out?” - -“Nay, Sahib, how can I speak with certainty? All I can say is that if -the Beebee was on board, and was saved when the boat ran aground, she -must have been carried away quickly to the hills. But it is not clear -to my mind that she was there at all. It is possible, but I have seen -nothing to prove it.” - -“But if not,” cried Brian quickly, “she must have been washed -overboard before the boat came ashore--and that I won’t believe. No; -they have carried her off into the hills, and Heaven only knows what -has happened the poor Major. Sick and helpless--I fear the unfortunate -fellow must have been drowned, and she would be left without a -defender. Good heavens!” - -“Let not the presence grieve so sadly. If he will, let him put this -humble one ashore a day’s journey up the river, and he will make his -way in disguise into the hills, to the dwellings of the Kajias, and -sojourn among them until he has made certain either that the Beebee is -there or that she has never been there. Then he will bring word to the -presence.” - -“And what will I be doing all that time?” cried Brian. “And what will -be happening her if she has been carried some other way? No, we’ll -make all speed back to Qadirabad, and I’ll get the General to give me -a column strong enough to overawe the Kajias and force the truth out -of ’em. Then we’ll know what we’re doing.” - -“As the presence pleases,” said Puggy politely, but offering no -opinion as to the wisdom of Brian’s plan. While they were talking the -boatmen had been poling their vessel out into the stream again, and -now Brian called for the headman, and promised lavish rewards for -every hour gained on the time usually taken up-stream. The men did -their best, but the current was strong and the wind generally in the -wrong direction, and Brian chafed grievously at the slow progress -made. But at last the round tower of Qadirabad came in sight again, -and to his great joy he learned from the first officer he met that the -General had returned from Khanpur and taken up his quarters in the -Fort, Lord Maryport having now definitely appointed him Governor of -Khemistan. But the General, when Brian presented himself, was worried, -even testy. - -“You should have let Puggy do as he proposed,” he said sharply. “Send -a column to stir up that wasps’ nest in the hills? Not a bit of it! No -man esteems and admires your sister more than I do, but I can’t -sacrifice the army to her. Here is Kamal-ud-din playing about in every -direction, just beyond my reach. Now he has started a brother--only -just out of the nursery, they say,--and the two young rascals are -kicking up a fine dust between them. All the bad elements in the -country are rallying to ’em, of course--whether they have submitted to -us or not. The thing is beginning to spread to this side of the river, -too--there’s a very pretty plot brewing in Qadirabad itself. I have my -spies, happily, and can stamp it out when I want to, so as long as we -are on the watch, the disaffected may as well be plotting as anything -else--keep ’em out of mischief. But I give you the credit of being -able to see for yourself that this ain’t a time for detaching columns -on private adventures.” - -“If you could extend my leave, sir--let me go with Puggy and do what I -could, I mean?” - -“And be recognised in no time, and give me another set of murderers to -hunt up and hang? No, my good fellow; when you joined the army it was -to serve her Majesty--not to go off on wild-goose chases after your -own female relatives,--and while I am above ground you’ll do it. It -may not be long. Over and over again of late I have thought I was on -the march. I can walk again now--but still groggy on my pins, as you -see. Incessant labour in this heat is killing to sixty and over, and -no doubt Welborne will give you all the leave you want.” - -He turned abruptly to his papers again in a spasm of self-pity, and -Brian could not but capitulate unconditionally. “Don’t, -General--don’t, for Heaven’s sake, be talking like that! What in the -world would we all do without you? Sure Khemistan would be lost, and -the army with it.” - -“It’s that already, according to the Bombay papers,” gruffly. “Now -that Bayard’s experienced wisdom is withdrawn, the army is as good as -sacrificed to the incapable old ruffian at its head. Believe me if you -can, Delany, those fellows are making pets of the Khans--calling ’em -‘fallen Princes’ and setting ’em up as saints--and blackguarding me -and my glorious soldiers high and low. Bayard is in it, of course--not -behind it, for he’s a decent chap, though weak, weak as water--but -when the _journalistic gentlemen_ get round him and play upon his -vanity he’ll say anything, and end by believing it himself. The -fellows are positively gloating over Kamal-ud-din and his proceedings, -I tell you. They butter him up as a heaven-taught commander, adored by -his people, the inspirer of a sacred war to expel the invaders, who -have the misfortune to be led by a disreputable old lunatic who threw -away his last chance of success when jealousy induced him to rid -himself of his good genius, Colonel Bayard! They recount my -dispositions and suggest how he ought to meet ’em, and all their -articles are translated and sent up here for the edification of -Kamal-ud-din and his fellow-plotters. But I’ll knock the chap out yet, -no matter who his treacherous backers may be, if only this old carcase -of mine will hold out for one more month!” - -“Of course it will, General, and for many years to come! You have -shown me where my duty lies--though it breaks my heart to leave my -sister to all the trouble she may be in. I cannot forget”--half -apologetically--“what she’d be to me as a little child. No mother -could have been more tender--and she only a bit of a girl herself.” - -“That only shows you never knew what it means to have a mother. No -tenderness can replace hers, though I am sure your sister did her -best.” - -“She did, indeed. And do you tell me now I must leave her out of my -mind entirely? Ah, General, y’have a better heart than that!” - -“Who talked about putting her out of your mind, pray? Because I -decline to hand over my troops to you to fritter away on this bank -when every man is wanted on t’other, is there any need to talk like a -fool? Puggy shall go after her, with a free hand and as much cash as -he wants at call. If he finds her he may be able to negotiate for her -ransom, or even help her to escape. That--what-d’ye-call-it?--sheet -with a grating in it--which these women wear”--“_burqa_,” murmured -Brian apologetically--“would disguise anybody first-rate--hide those -tell-tale eyes, and we may find her waiting for us when we get back. -Master Kamal-ud-din thinks he’s going to surround me, but it’s t’other -way about. I am going to surround him, and we march out to-morrow to -do it.” - -“March out? Ah, General, not you! To take the field in this heat! We -can’t afford to lose you.” - -“Precious little loss, according to the Bombay fellows. Yes, I am -going myself; it is necessary. Why, if they give us the slip now, it -means a ruinous delay, for the river will rise and cut us off from -Qadirabad till the cold weather. Provisions for five months! how could -we carry ’em? and yet without ’em we must perish. This inundation is -the most plaguy unaccountable thing! the old officers here tell me -they have known it complete six weeks before this; when the river rose -after that storm, everybody assured me it was here, yet the water has -gone down again, and I mean to take advantage of it. We have to march -against the enemy from all sides, and then strike hard, and you know -as well as I do that if I ain’t there my concentration will fail, and -some soft-hearted or white-livered chap will let the game out of the -net.” - -Brian was to remember the prophecy a week later, when he rode one -morning into the desert camp where the General’s force was sweltering -in such heat as even the natives had rarely known, and the Europeans -had never even dreamt of. He had ridden all night on a self-imposed -mission, and after his strenuous forty miles dropped limply from his -horse more dead than alive. He had accompanied, as the General’s -representative, one of the other columns--that which was detailed to -prevent Kamal-ud-din from breaking away southwards between Umarganj -and the river, and getting down into the Delta, where he might evade -pursuit indefinitely. Colonel Bleackley was one of those officers -whose moral support and aim in life is exact obedience to orders, and -when news came that the river was rising again, his first impulse was -to remember that he had been told on no account to let himself be cut -off by the floods, but to retire upon the main body, and this he -prepared to do. Brian opposed his decision with might and main. The -column marching down from Sahar had turned back Kamal-ud-din’s -brother, Jamal-ud-din, and driven him towards the General, who had -dispersed his force and taken him prisoner. Kamal-ud-din himself, who -had been hurrying to the boy’s support, quailed under the unexpected -blow, and turned back into the desert. By advancing upon Umarganj, -Colonel Bleackley would catch the Khan in a trap, since the only wells -adequate to the needs of a mounted force were on the route he was -following. To retire now would be to destroy the General’s hopes, and -leave Kamal-ud-din free to be a thorn in his side for the future. -After much expostulation, a compromise was agreed upon. Brian might go -and ascertain Sir Harry’s wishes, and until he returned Colonel -Bleackley would hold his ground. Sir Harry’s wishes were expressed in -no uncertain voice. - -“Tell the fellow to go on, go on, go on--no matter what’s in his way. -If he is caught by the water, let him get into Umarganj and maintain -himself there, and when Kamal-ud-din is tired of dancing about -outside, he’ll come in and surrender. Heaven only grant he don’t slip -through during this insane halt. What’s the good of our capturing -Jamal-ud-din if t’other one escapes? Nice young villain Jamal-ud-din -is too. Offered to make away with his brother and bring all his chiefs -to submit, if I would let him go, and recognise him as successor. But -that sort of thing don’t go down with me, as he knows now, and I am -sending off one of the Arabits captured with him to find Kamal and -warn him what a dear affectionate brother he’s got. Go and take a rest -now--if you can--while I concoct a despatch, with a dash of pepper in -it, for Bleackley. You’ll find your own tent cooler than this--only -have to simmer there, while we’re boiling alive here.” - -There was a reason for this, since Sir Harry, unable to bear the sight -of his beloved Black Prince’s sufferings in the heat outside, had -taken him into his tent, where the charger lay on the ground exhausted -and gasping, and making the place, if possible, hotter than it would -otherwise have been. Brian retired thankfully, with a glance of -commiseration at Stewart, who durst not affront the General’s eyes -with shirt-sleeves, and was suffocating in his scarlet coat. In his -own tent he did as most of the Europeans in the force were doing--lay -down with wet cloths about his head, and bade a servant pour water -over him. The heat lay above him like a heavy pall, impeding his -breath, sucking away his strength, and from the tents near he heard -the repressed groans of men in torment like himself, while every now -and then a horrible stertorous sound--a kind of choking -screech--showed that some sufferer had succumbed to the appalling -oppression. Brian was listlessly counting the seizures within his -hearing, and speculating from which side the next gulp of agony would -come, when he was startled by a suffocating gasp from Sir Harry’s -tent. - -“The General or Black Prince?” he asked himself, and staggering to his -feet, caught up his hat and reeled blindly across the few yards of -glaring sand between one semi-darkness and another. Sir Harry lay -prone across the table--a dreadful inarticulate noise coming from his -lips. Brian ran to lift him up, shouting for help as he did so, and in -a moment the camp was in a turmoil. Stewart, who had been sent to find -out something from the Brigade-Major, ran back, surgeons rushed up, -and volunteer helpers crowded to the tent in such numbers that they -had to be summarily dispersed. The General was bled, of course--people -were bled for every thing in those days,--and while he demanded -angrily but drowsily to be let alone and allowed to sleep, cold water -was applied to his head and hot to his feet, and he was vigorously -rubbed and slapped back to consciousness. He was the forty-fourth -victim of the heat that forenoon, and of the forty-three others not -one was alive three hours later. - -The next morning he sent for Brian, who found him in bed--if his -narrow charpoy could be called a bed,--looking very ill and haggard -and by no means comfortable--under a dirty sheet which was more like a -tent-cloth. He spoke fast and eagerly. - -“You must start--this afternoon. Must get to Bleackley by to-morrow -morning--rest in the worst of the heat. Despatch is ready. Have you a -horse?” - -“I rode my sister’s little Bajazet, sir. He carried me well, but ’twas -bad going for him. He’d carry me back, I believe, but I’d be sorry to -kill him--such a game little beast.” - -“I won’t have any horse ridden to death. Take Dick Turpin--he’ll carry -you. No more biting and kicking from him for a week or two!” with a -cackling laugh. “You won’t spare yourself, I know. Don’t spare him.” - -“I won’t, General. Then I’ll be starting as soon as he can stand the -sun,” said Brian. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - A SORE STRAIT. - -/Tom Carthew/ must have known that Kamal-ud-din had hurried back into -the field in the hope of uniting with his brother’s force before Sir -Harry could intercept it, but he did not tell Eveleen so--possibly -because he was afraid of raising false hopes. He was in a pitiable -state of mind, equally afraid of the Arabits and of the British, -anxious--it would be too much to say determined to save Eveleen and -her husband, but fearing to take any practical step in that direction. -She argued the matter out with him after the Khan’s departure. It was -all very well for him to say that he hoped Kamal-ud-din would be kind -enough to let his captives go free, but it would be much more to the -purpose to help them to escape without putting the youth’s magnanimity -to the test. She was desperate enough to try any expedient Carthew -might suggest, and perhaps it was as well that he declined to think of -any. Even if they accomplished the all but impossible feat of getting -out of the fort and the town unnoticed, the desert ringed them round -as effectually as any wall. What could they do, burdened with a -helpless man? They would need camels and drivers, and even if they had -the means to secure the fidelity of the _sarwans_, they must follow -one of the well-known defined routes on which water was to be found, -and on any of these they were sure sooner or later to meet the -Arabits. When Eveleen persisted, he reduced her to silence by -inferring that she wished to leave her husband behind, as by no other -possibility could she be enabled to escape. It was characteristic of -him that he was not ashamed to use arguments from which a stronger man -would have shrunk. Eveleen felt a certain amount of unwilling -gratitude towards him, for he had undoubtedly served her well, but it -was mingled with no little impatience. He would not do a single -earthly thing because he was afraid of compromising his already shaky -position! - -That one, at any rate, of his fears had been justified she learned -very early in her captivity. The brief--almost momentary--coolness of -morning was over, and the long hot hours had begun. In what Eveleen -called their dungeon, she and Ketty were sitting, doing nothing, -because there was nothing to do. With its thick walls and solid roof, -the place was cooler than the tents in the desert, but there could be -no movement of air. Deprived of the contrivances for mitigating the -heat to which she had grown accustomed, and of the exercise she would -have declared essential to her, Eveleen looked as thin and hollow-eyed -as her husband, but restless instead of quiet. The inaction was -horrible to her, and she spent her time in making wild plans of -escape, which she knew were useless. Everything was so dreadfully -complicated by Richard’s helplessness. There he lay, inert as a log, -tended like a baby--the very thing he would most have detested had he -known it--unable either to see, hear, speak, or, as far as they could -tell, feel. Eveleen’s heart yearned over him with a passion of pity as -she thought of his state, for to her active mind nothing could be more -dreadful than continued idleness. It was a relief to hear the bearer’s -voice in the verandah asking admittance, for in another moment she -must have broken into sobs. The old man’s errand was a pleasant -surprise. The ladies of the zenana had heard there was a Farangi lady -in the Fort, and as she had not asked permission to visit them, they -feared she must be in need of suitable raiment, and with a present of -fruit to testify their goodwill, they sent her such things as they -thought she might be wanting. - -Such a kindly message would have been welcome at any time, but in -Eveleen’s depressed mood it was a heaven-sent distraction. It was as -though the ladies had divined Carthew’s anxiety, and sent nothing that -could be suspected of conveying poison, and she felt ashamed that he -should have doubted them. The fruit was magnificent, coming not from -sun-baked Khemistan, but from cooler regions across the mountains, and -Eveleen squeezed the juice from some grapes to make a drink for -Richard, and pleased herself with believing that he liked it. Ketty -was examining the other things sent, garments of embroidered silk and -finest muslin, perfumes and unguents in curious little baked earth -pots, and soap--or rather the washing-balls used throughout Khemistan, -the basis of which was a peculiar kind of earth dug near Qadirabad. -When the earth was mixed, as usually happened, with mustard-oil, the -balls did not commend themselves to the fastidious European taste, but -these were prepared in the proper way with oil of roses, and shed -abroad a delightful fragrance. Among the toilet articles her -forethought had provided, Ketty had included only one piece of soap, -so that the sight of this substitute was most welcome. Eveleen sat -turning the different things over and looking at them, and the thought -came into her mind that she was wasting time by not trying to enlist -the support of the ladies during the Khan’s absence. She would -certainly accept the invitation to visit them--though it might be -couched in the language of command. - -“I wonder what will the best time be to go and see them?” she mused -aloud. “The Khan’s mother is the head of the establishment, of course. -What are you doing to the Master’s arm, Ketty? Was it a mosquito?” -Ketty grunted that it was done gone, and Eveleen rose and began to try -the effect of the clothes sent her. She could hardly pay the visit in -her much tattered dressing-gown, but neither was she prepared to don -trousers--beautifully as these were fashioned according to native -ideas, very wide above the knee and extremely tight below. There were -two or three tunics of curious shape, but wearable, she thought, and -perhaps she could arrange one of the _chadars_ as some kind of skirt -underneath them. She was pleating and draping and twisting, when -Ketty, with eyes of awful meaning, lifted Richard’s arm again and -showed her a long patch of fiery red from wrist almost to elbow. -Dropping the length of stuff she was holding, Eveleen sprang towards -him, and saw that the skin was burnt as though with some acid. - -“Ketty, what have you been doing?” she demanded furiously - -“Master no done feel,” was the complacent reply. - -“You did do it, you horrible wretch? How dare you? You burned your -master’s arm?” - -“Better done burn Master arm than Madam face,” persisted Ketty -stolidly. - -“’Twas not! ’Twas worse--far worse! But why would you want to burn -either? Is it mad y’are?” - -“Khanum done send wash-ball, done spoil Madam face--no marry Khan,” -explained the handmaid brazenly. - -“The wash-balls?” Eveleen picked up one of them and regarded it with -dilated eyes. “You mean if I had used this on my face----? But why -burn your master?” - -“Madam done see, done believe.” - -“Wouldn’t I have tried it on my own arm if you’d told me? But to go -and torture him when he can’t feel----! Listen what I’ll do with you, -Ketty. I’m going to see the Khanum now, and you’ll go with me and -interpret. But what will we put on the poor arm first? This stuff -looks cooling---- Ah no, I won’t let one of them come within a mile of -him now. Bearer will likely know what to do.” - -She summoned Abdul Qaiyam from the verandah, received his advice to -apply a little _ghi_ to the burn, and bade him send word that the -Farangi lady craved leave to wait on their Highnesses; but as he went -out again with disturbed face, she found herself clasped round the -knees by the agonised Ketty, pallid with terror. - -“Madam no done scold! No good. No help here. Khanum done kill Madam, -kill Master, kill all.” - -“Scold her? and why would I scold her? What good would that do? What -would I scold her about?” - -“Wash-balls,” moaned Ketty, drawing back and looking as though she -doubted her mistress’s sanity. - -“Oh, _those_! I won’t be saying a word about them, of course. Throw -them away---- No, put them by; I may be glad of them myself yet. Why, -Ketty, you silly old woman, don’t you see I want to put myself right -with the ladies? They are making a horrid mistake about me, and well -they may; and how can they be shown it unless I speak to them myself?” - -“Done kill Master,” repeated Ketty miserably. - -“If they do, they’ll certainly kill us as well, and then all our -troubles will be over. But they won’t, for I’ll leave the blue stone -round his neck, and Bearer to see that no one touches it. Here, put a -pin in this.” - -As an additional security, she fastened her improvised skirt with the -girdle of her dressing-gown, then caught up another _chadar_ and -wrapped it round her head and shoulders, and waited impatiently for -the bearer’s return, while Ketty, abandoning her tragic attitude, took -up once more her familiar strain of grumbling. It seemed an immensely -long time before Abdul Qaiyam returned, for the ladies must have been -astonished by the suddenness of the visit, but at last he came back, -bringing with him one of the negro attendants of the zenana. Under -this man’s protection, after charging the long-suffering bearer with -many injunctions as to his master’s safety, Eveleen crossed the -courtyard--or rather, slipped from one patch of shade to another, and -thus skirted round it, encountering various Arabits who hastily -averted their eyes or took cover within the buildings. Ketty followed, -looking exactly as if she was going to be hanged, so her mistress told -her, and at the zenana door they were admitted by another negro, who -handed them over to a number of old women. These offered perfunctory -salutations in an unknown tongue, scrutinising the visitors greedily -the while, and led them to a large vaulted room partially underground, -where the ladies were passing away the hot hours as best they might. -Eveleen had learnt enough from Ketty’s gossip--though it was difficult -to tell whom she found to gossip with--to know who were the principal -personages before her. There were three young girls--rather meek and -abashed-looking--who sat together as though they found each other’s -company a support. Two of them were wives of Kamal-ud-din, and one was -his brother’s. Then there was Jamal-ud-din’s mother, a lady with a -dissatisfied expression, who sat as near as possible to the chief -place occupied by her superior, the mother of Kamal-ud-din. The Khanum -was the pleasantest-looking person there, with an assured manner which -showed to advantage beside the fidgetiness of her companion. To her, -even as her lips uttered the words of salutation, and without being -invited to approach, Eveleen moved swiftly forward, and dropping on -her knees, laid hold of the Khanum’s silken draperies. - -“I seize the Lady’s skirt and claim her protection,” she said in her -best Persian. “Let her spread her mantle over my husband and me.” - -Every one looked virtuously shocked that a woman should be so -abandoned as to refer to her husband as such, but apparently the -impropriety furnished a not disagreeable excitement, for the ladies -gathered a little closer and listened eagerly. The Khanum alone -remained unmoved. - -“How is this, then?” she asked. “Is not the sick Farangi thy brother, -lady?” - -“Not a bit of it!” Eveleen sat back on her heels, still holding the -Khanum’s dress, and felt--without realising the reason--the thrill -that went round as she lifted her eyes to her audience. “My brother is -only a boy. This is my husband, that I’ve followed over land and sea, -after he came back for me when I’d waited twenty years for him.” Ketty -followed as interpreter, but Eveleen began to suspect that her Persian -was about on a par with her English when she saw the blank look on the -ladies’ faces. She did her best, therefore, to repeat what she had -said, and between the two some measure of understanding followed. The -Khanum looked more sympathetic. - -“It is told me the Farangi ladies are like the Turki women north of -the mountains, who ride unveiled with their lords--even to war,” she -said, and Eveleen followed the words anxiously and painfully. “But how -is it this Farangi Sahib was not slain?” - -“He was sick--not wounded in battle,” explained Eveleen. “I was taking -him to the sea to heal him, for the sea heals all the ills of the -English.” - -This was quite comprehensible. “Naturally, since they come up out of -it,” said the Khanum graciously. - -“And we were betrayed into the hands of the Khan’s servants and -brought here,” Eveleen ended rather lamely, and the benevolence became -less marked. - -“My son does not make war with sick men and with women. Why should ye -have been brought hither?” - -“They said----” Eveleen tried hard to put the story of the Seal of -Solomon into manageable Persian, but found the task beyond her powers. -“It was all a piece of foolishness,” she said unhappily. - -“What was foolish? the tale of the precious thing--dear to my son and -his whole house--the colour of which has passed into thine eyes? Why -say this now, when by thy malediction upon what should have caused -good fortune, thou hast brought so much evil upon my son and all the -brotherhood?” - -“Ah, but it couldn’t really----” Eveleen was beginning, and then -realised that no amount of argument, even if she were equal to it, -would disabuse the ladies’ minds of their belief either in her power -or in that of the stone. “I was angry,” she confessed. “My husband -gave the talisman to the Khan without consulting me.” - -“And it was thine own possession?” asked the Khanum, with evident -sympathy. - -“My very own--given to me when I was married by the uncle who brought -me up.” There was quite a chorus of sympathy now, but Jamal-ud-din’s -mother struck a jarring note. - -“And if it was,” she said querulously, “what better can his Highness, -the son of my sister, do than what he proposes--namely, to restore the -stone and take thee into his zenana, thus uniting thy influence with -the fortunes of his house?” - -Eveleen flushed angrily--the ladies watching as if fascinated the red -spreading through the white skin. “We need not speak of that; it is -not the custom of my people,” she said, controlling herself with -difficulty. “Khanum, look----” she raised the heavy masses of hair -from her temples, and showed the streaks of white that were making -their appearance there. “I am old--old enough to be the mother of his -Highness. Let me go with my own lord, whom I love, and who came to -seek me after so many years.” - -A little discussion arose. Jamal-ud-din’s mother held to her view of -the case, Kamal-ud-din’s wives--not unnaturally--taking the other, -though timidly and with due deference to their seniors. One of them -thought that as the Farangi woman had a husband already, it was -unnecessary to provide her with another; the other was cynically -inclined, and said that in a world where such a thing as constancy was -hardly to be found, it was a pity to make away with the one man who -had proved himself faithful. The Khanum, listening and pondering, made -it clear at last that she took a wider view of the matter. - -“Is it true that by my son’s command, the Farangi Sahib is in no -danger of death for the present?” she asked. - -“That was his promise, Khanum.” - -“And the gratitude that is his due--hast thou shown that? In return -for the boon of life for thy lord, is good fortune once more to smile -upon my son’s house?” - -Eveleen was taken aback. “I wish him--and have wished him--all -possible happiness,” she faltered. - -“And success in his war with the English?” - -“Nay,” wretchedly; “that I cannot do. Yet have pity, Khanum. Set not -the life of my husband in the scale against”--a happy thought--“that -of my brother.” - -“The son of thy mother?” asked one of the girls with interest. - -“The son of my mother, lady, and given into my arms by her when she -died.” - -Even the Khanum seemed moved. “Thou art indeed in a sore strait!” she -said. “Rise, lady, and return to thy lord. For the present my skirt is -over thee and him. It may be that good fortune will attend my son. If -so, I will entreat him for thee. If not, I will send for thee again, -and we will speak of this.” - -It was a sore strait indeed, and Eveleen could hardly see for tears -the _attar_ and _pan_ that were presented to her as she retired, nor -utter the words of farewell. At any other time she would have been -amused by the bearer’s incredulous delight on seeing her return alive -and unharmed, and Ketty’s obvious disgust at the unimportant part she -had been allowed to take in the proceedings, though she returned from -the zenana the richer by a fine new cloth--the gift of the Khanum. She -could not even be amused at herself for totally forgetting alike the -Khanum’s present of clothes and the poisoned soap that accompanied it, -nor at the ladies for ignoring them so completely. She could only tell -herself that she had degraded the English name in vain by her -humiliation, and that the General’s victory, which she was -patriotically sure would come, would certainly be set down as the -result of her malignity. - -That she was right in this, at any rate, was proved only too soon, -when she was summoned again to the Khanum after a night of turmoil in -the town, when the shrill wailings of the women penetrated into the -fort and were answered by like cries from the zenana. Sir Harry had -defeated Jamal-ud-din’s force and held the boy prisoner, and -Kamal-ud-din had been too late to rescue his brother. The Arabits in -the courtyard cursed and spat at her as they turned their heads aside, -and in the zenana Jamal-ud-din’s mother, noisy and dishevelled amid a -group of sympathisers--yet not without a certain satisfaction in -finding herself for once the prominent person--met her with bitter -words and angry threats. Was this her gratitude? the ladies demanded -hysterically. Was she so blind as to imagine that now she was in -Kamal-ud-din’s power she could go on working her spells against him, -and yet expect to escape unpunished? With monotonous reiteration the -mourners repeated the question in different words, the only calm -person present being the Khanum, who had consulted propriety by -appearing ceremonially dishevelled, but sat apart from the noisy -group, wearing the peculiar air of detachment which distinguished her. -But she made no attempt to protect Eveleen. - -“Go, go!” shrieked Jamal-ud-din’s mother at last, having exhausted her -store of insults--and it was not a small one--“but think not to -escape. Had I my will, thy head and that of the Farangi without would -already be speeding to the camp of the Brother of Satan, whom ye call -Bahadar Jang, to confront him at his table. But ye are -_protected_”--with terrific scorn--“by the son of my sister. Yet take -warning. If one hair falls from the head of my son, no protection of -his Highness will serve thee--or thy lord--from the vengeance of the -women, and these hands”--most realistic claws extended--“will be the -first to tear.” - -Eveleen knew well enough what she meant. There were women everywhere -around--not merely the Princesses, in their transparent muslins, and -silks that a single violent movement would tear, but hard-faced old -women, of the race of those whose mission it was to finish up the -wounded in frontier warfare. She had often heard shudderingly of their -horrible methods of torture and mutilation--picking out the wounded -man’s eyes with the long needles used for applying _kohl_ to the -eyelids was one of the mildest,--and the thought of the little dagger -occurred to her again. Not for herself, there would not be time for -both, but for Richard. She looked involuntarily towards the impassive -Khanum, who spoke coldly. - -“Go, and we will send for thee again. But bethink thee well ere thou -bring further evil upon this house.” - -Returning wretchedly to the dungeon, Eveleen found, with a certain -warming of the heart, Carthew waiting to see her--or rather, shuffling -uneasily about the room, a look of rooted misery on his face. It must -have cost him so much effort to show himself on the side of such -desperately unpopular people, that she hated herself for thinking that -he had come because he feared she would make his allegiance even more -conspicuous by sending for him. The natural contrariety of Eveleen’s -disposition caused her spirits to rise immediately on beholding his -depression, and she greeted him with a very fair imitation of -cheerfulness. - -“I’m glad to find you in such good spirits, ma’am,” he said--in a tone -very far from glad. - -“And why wouldn’t I be, when the General is well on his way to come -and rescue us?” - -Carthew shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish to damp you, ma’am, but I -doubt the General’s ever getting this far.” - -“But why? You can’t think he’d leave us in the lurch?” - -“Not if he knew it, I’m certain. But how is he to know where you are?” - -Eveleen stared at him. “But why not? Where else in the world would we -be than here?” - -“But why should he think to find you here? For anything he knows, if -you escaped the storm at all you’re on t’other side of the river.” - -“The other side of the river!” she repeated, her eyes dilating. “But -how would we be there?” - -“Didn’t I tell you, ma’am”--miserably--“of the plot I made to catch -Captain Lennox for the Khan--when it was you they meant all the time? -I had to lay a false trail to keep the General from sending the Camel -Corps to cut us off between the river and this, and so I did it by -bringing in the Codgers into the business, through that old Parsee -that was with you.” - -“The poor little good old man? D’ye tell me he was in it? Sure I’ll -never believe in anybody again!” - -“Not in the plot against you, but he was bringing supplies to the Khan -from his aunt--one of Gul Ali Khan’s wives--in Qadirabad. Paying his -army has swallowed up the Khan’s own treasure, pretty near, so he got -word to this old lady, and she promised him jewels to a fairish -amount. Old Firozji was to carry ’em about him, and I gave him all the -directions--how he was to get protection by sailing in a British -officer’s company, and make sure there was no trouble with the Codgers -by engaging some of ’em to guard him. At one of the halts on the -river--he was not to know beforehand which it would be--a messenger -from the Khan would meet him with a certain password, and he would -give up the jewels to him. The rest of the plan we arranged with the -Codgers. They were to capture the boats by surprise, and do what they -liked with ’em, but the old Parsee and the British officer were to be -brought across the river on _mussucks_ and handed over to us. That was -my idea, but you know it was yourself, and no officer, that the Khan -was after. The Codgers had the password, so that old Firozji would -come quiet, and when he had given us the jewels he was to be let go, -so that he could tell the General his boats and everything had been -stolen, and he had escaped with nothing but his life to bring word of -Captain Lennox being prisoner. It was the Codgers made things go -wrong, though why they should have brought you across the river in the -boat I can’t say.” - -“I made them--with a pistol,” said Eveleen in a low voice. - -“Then it was well you did, ma’am, or you would have come across tied -on to a _mussuck_, and your good gentleman there would never have been -heard of again. But I suppose it was that stirred up the Codgers, -making ’em think they’d been choused somehow. They killed the old -Parsee, anyhow, and collared the jewels themselves, instead of handing -’em over, and then made off, leaving me to find everything had gone -wrong.” - -“Well, if y’ask me,” said Eveleen vigorously, “I think it served you -right entirely. Are you not ashamed of yourself, Tom Carthew, to be -plotting this way?” - -“Don’t, Miss Evie, don’t! Ain’t we all in the same boat? If I failed -to get the jewels, wasn’t it because somehow or other I got hold of -the Major as well as yourself--and then listened to you and let him be -brought here? And if you ain’t bringing ’em the good luck they looked -for--why, it’s as plain as a pikestaff your thoughts are on the Major, -not the Khan.” - -“I would just think so!” - -“Well, there you are, you see. If there was ever any chance of the -General getting within twenty miles of this place, do you think the -Major would be there to see it? Why, it’s he keeps you from doing your -duty by them--that’s the way they look at it.” - -“But you wouldn’t think--after all this time----?” - -“It’s my fault again. I told ’em he was dying, you see--couldn’t live -above a day or two--and I believed it. But he’s alive still.” - -“Of course he is! And sometimes--I almost think there seems a little -weeshy bit of difference--a sort of change in his eyes--as if his soul -was trying to find its way back, don’t you know?” - -“Miss Evie, don’t--for pity’s sake! The one chance for you is that he -stays as he is. I don’t _think_ the Khan would finish off a man in -that state--I hope he wouldn’t. But if once he saw him beginning to -get better----” - -“Y’are a nice old croaker, Tom! Then the General must come quick, -before he gets better--eh? But what did you mean by saying there was -not a great chance of his coming?” - -“Why should he? The river is rising again, he dursn’t let himself be -cut off away from his camp, he don’t know of any particular reason for -coming here. He won’t come. He’ll turn back and make for -Qadirabad--you’ll see.” - -“I won’t, then! I believe the General will come in time and save us. -Y’ought be ashamed of yourself for trying to make me unhappy about it. -I tell y’ I won’t be miserable--there!” But whether, when she was -again comparatively alone, Eveleen was quite as valiantly positive as -she professed to be, Ketty could have told. - -Three days later the blow fell--just the reverse of the last one. The -town rang with rejoicings and blazed with lights. From the zenana came -presents of fruit and sweetmeats, jewels and rich garments, with a -special message from the Khanum herself: “The mother of his Highness -send thanks and greetings to the Farangi lady, who had brought -blessing when to blind eyes she seemed to be bringing a curse.” - -It was some time before a diligent quest for information on Ketty’s -part made this cryptic message clear. The reason for the general -rejoicing was soon discovered. The Bahadar Jang was sick unto death. -All his people stricken about the same time were dead already, and he -must soon follow. Depression and disintegration had already set in -among his forces, as was shown by the conduct of the body of troops -detached to cut off the Khan from Umarganj. It had halted for no -reason, and remained passive, and Kamal-ud-din had passed it safely, -and would arrive in an hour or two. This was the news as it was -communicated to the public, but to one or two cronies of his own the -messenger had imparted the further tale of young Jamal-ud-din’s -dishonour--his offer to assassinate his brother to win favour with his -captor,--and this it was that had moved the gratitude of the Khanum. -Now they knew where they were, she said, and her son could guard -himself in future. The capture of the boy, which had seemed such a -disaster, was a blessing in disguise, since it had revealed him in his -true colours. And to this she adhered, though Jamal-ud-din’s mother -stormed and raved and tore her hair as she vowed that the treachery -must have been suggested by the enemy, and that her son had feigned to -assent to it only through fear of death. - -Eveleen cared nothing for Jamal-ud-din and his mother and step-mother. -The news of the General’s illness--perhaps death--and Kamal-ud-din’s -return came upon her like a thunderbolt, in nowise lightened by the -knowledge that both events were in all good faith ascribed to her -favourable influence. At last she had tried hard enough--and behold -the result! They would never let her go now that she had so signally -proved her value to them. She had signed Richard’s death-warrant as -surely as though she had set her hand to paper, for though they might -contemptuously decline to take his life, how could he live on in this -state without her tendance? She might escape dishonour herself, thanks -to the little dagger, but how could she save him? - -She sprang up wildly at last, and meeting the surprised glance of -Ketty, who had been hugging herself in the complacency natural to the -bearer of appalling tidings, bade her harshly to go out--make -enquiries--bring more news. Ketty was nothing loath. The present -popularity of her mistress shed its lustre over her, and she knew she -would be a welcome guest among the wives of the soldiers in the -courtyard. Out she went, and Eveleen, who had stood rigid with her -hand to her heart, crossed the room again and sank on her knees beside -her husband. Pride was gone now. - -“O God,” she sobbed, “it was my fault--all my fault. But that’s the -very reason I need Thy help. I can do nothing, I deserve nothing. I -have ruined myself, but not him----O God, not him! Let him be -saved--whatever happens to me--whatever--_whatever_.” - -Exhausted by the vehemence of her entreaty, she knelt in silence, -panting painfully. Then her outstretched hands touched one of -Richard’s, clasped it and let it go, and then in the semi-darkness she -passed them gently over his face--as though for the last time. - -“So often I have said I’d die for him, and now I have killed him!” The -words were forced from her, and she broke into a low hopeless sobbing, -with her head on his breast. Was it fancy--madness--or did she really -hear his voice close to her ear, speaking dreamily and as though he -was but half awake? - -“What is it? My dear, don’t, pray don’t!” - -“Don’t what?” she asked in amazement. - -“Don’t cry--so sadly. I can’t--bear it.” He was certainly speaking, in -a drowsy voice like one newly awakened from a long sleep. Eveleen gave -a cry. - -“Ambrose, can you hear me? Are y’awake?” - -“Gently--hush, pray. I was afraid--of something. It must have -been--this.” - -“Is it _afraid_ you were? Will you tell me have you been in your right -senses all this while, when I thought you could hear nothing?” - -“I don’t think so,” doubtfully, but the voice was stronger. “There -have been times---- Sometimes I think I must have heard---- Perhaps I -might have waked---- But I heard Carthew say--the one chance for -you---- Something on my mouth--sort of padlock----” - -“Then why in the world wouldn’t you break it? D’ye think I’d mind what -happened me if I’d had the chance of hearing you speak? Ambrose, I’d -like to shake you!” - -“Pray do--but for Heaven’s sake don’t speak so loud. Not unless we are -out of the wood by this time. Are we? Surely not; or why were you -crying in that--that lamentable way?” - -The familiar dry tone brought Eveleen to her senses. She sat back and -looked at him in dismay. - -“Indeed, and if you did keep silence because you were afraid of my -foolishness I wouldn’t wonder. I deserve it. To think of my calling -out that way! But Bearer’s outside to warn us if anybody comes near, -and every one’s too busy to care about us just now.” - -Richard’s hand came on hers with a sudden heavy pressure. “Listen!” he -murmured. - -“Let the exalted magnificence listen to the words of this humble one,” -pleaded the voice of Abdul Qaiyam. “In very deed there is no one -within. The Beebee talks with herself.” - -“In such a voice as that? Stand aside, old man. If this is true, I -will ask pardon. Out of the way!” - -A hand lifted the grass blind, and Kamal-ud-din stood in the opening, -in his hand the drawn sword with which he had just threatened the old -servant. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - USE AND WONT. - -/The/ sun had risen some time, and the waves of heat were rolling up -to the assault of Colonel Bleackley’s camp in the shadeless desert, -but the bored and discontented officers who were lounging about the -mess tent made no move to retire to their own quarters. They had no -spirit even for what jealous civilians called “Arabit-hunting,” the -perpetual diversion of Sir Harry and his circle--which meant recalling -the exploits of this or that comrade in the battles, and how many of -the enemy he had killed. The few words exchanged among them were not -of a character flattering to the commander of their column. - -“Shoving his responsibility off upon Delany!” growled Captain Keeling -savagely. “We ought to be in Umarganj now, and should be if he had -done his duty.” - -“More just to say Delany shouldered the responsibility of his own -accord,” said the measured tones of Sir Dugald Haigh. “But it ought -not to have been left to him.” - -“Well, he’s paid for it, poor chap!” muttered some one else. “Must -have broke down somewhere, or he’d be back by now.” - -“Wouldn’t choose to be in Bleackley’s shoes when old Harry talks to -him about this business!” said another cheerfully. - -“If the General don’t take it up, I’ll expose him myself!” snarled -Captain Keeling, with the public spirit which so endeared him to his -superiors. - -“I believe you, my boy!” cried the rest in chorus, which broke off -into shouts of welcome as an exhausted young man rode a very meek -horse painfully into the space before the tent. With unwonted -discretion, Brian declined to state the result of his mission -otherwise than by nods and winks, but by the way he brandished the -despatch which he insisted he must deliver to Colonel Bleackley -forthwith, the others guessed he had been successful. But while he -waited for his audience he could not resist telling the rest how -uncommonly cool they were here--which was naturally soothing to men -who felt that they were rapidly frizzling away,--and to prove his -words, describing the terrible mortality in the General’s camp. That -Colonel Bleackley heard what was said was clear when he had read the -despatch, though his bearer professed to have awakened him from sleep. - -“You are acquainted with the contents of this, I suppose, Captain -Delany?” - -“I am, Colonel. The General would likely think it better in case the -despatch got destroyed.” - -“Sir Henry was of course unaware when he wrote that my spies report -Umarganj to have been evacuated by the enemy. I doubt whether I am -justified in pushing forward, on the strength of an order dictated in -the state of health you describe. In case of the General’s death I -might incur very grave censure.” - -Brian felt Captain Keeling bristling behind him, and anticipated him -hastily. “Believe me, Colonel, if Sir Henry were unhappily to succumb, -he’d rise from his grave to haunt y’ if you did not push forward.” - -“You are acquainted with his probable course of action in any -circumstances whatever, apparently.” Colonel Bleackley looked at Brian -without any particular affection. “Better go and rest and get -something to eat. So valuable a person must not come to harm, if I am -to escape the attentions of the General’s ghost.” - -Brian went off vowing angrily that he was not going to rest--not he! A -snack of something to eat, and he was good for the day’s work yet. -Besides, it was no use trying to sleep in this heat; he had tried it -at the other camp, and it meant dying before you could wake up--in the -case of other people, he explained hastily in answer to interested -enquiries. But whether it was that the double journey had taken more -out of him than he knew, or that it really was cooler here--owing to -the drier air--than near the river, it is certain that he was fast -asleep when Captain Keeling lifted the flap of his tent and looked in, -and on being addressed merely grunted and went to sleep again. - -“Poor beggar! let him sleep. He deserves it,” said Sir Dugald Haigh, -looking over Captain Keeling’s shoulder. - -“I know he deserves the best we can give him. That’s why I thought he -ought to come on this reconnaissance.” - -“And you’re disappointed because the poor chap ain’t made of cast -steel and whipcord like yourself? After all, he’ll be in at the death, -thanks to Bleackley.” - -“Hang Bleackley! I’ll swear I could take the place by a _coup de main_ -with my men and your guns--and to be forbidden to approach too near, -or pursue the enemy----” - -“Got to engage ’em first--find ’em, too. Well, when you do, the guns -will be up in support, if I have to drag ’em through the sand at my -quad.’s tail.” - -“All serene. I count on you.” - -Brian’s slumbers that day were disturbed by rolling thunder, which -worried rather than troubled him--it was so persistent. He was never -really awakened, however, and arose at sunset, refreshed but rather -injured, to find to his astonishment that there had been no storm at -all. The thunder of which he had been intermittently conscious was -that of Sir Dugald Haigh’s guns, with the support of which the -Khemistan Horse had attacked a strong Arabit force covering Umarganj -and driven it from its position. Forbidden beforehand to follow up his -victory, Captain Keeling, with murder in his heart, could only send to -inform his superior that the way to the town was now open, and entreat -to be allowed to pursue the retreating foe and cut off Kamal-ud-din’s -retreat. He had not been in the fight--so Captain Keeling had learnt -from the prisoners he had taken,--but he was certainly in the town, -and his capture would end the war at one blow. But Colonel Bleackley -scented stratagems and ambushes, and flatly forbade his subordinate to -do more than bivouac for the night on the ground he had won. The next -day the whole force moved forward majestically--also slowly,--the -Khemistan Horse acting as advanced-guard instead of reconnoitring -ahead of the column. Brian, riding with Captain Keeling, had little -conversation with him, for the Commandant was too much disgusted to -talk. He was quite certain Kamal-ud-din would have seized the -opportunity to make good his escape, and all the work would have to be -done over again. They rode on grumpily in the broiling heat, their -eyes mocked by the most enticing mirage imaginable in the -circumstances. A stately castle rose from the margin of a pellucid -lake, in which its battlemented turrets were faithfully mirrored. -Behind it towered mountains which it could have been sworn were -snow-capped, and on either side were waving palms and green -undergrowth. Both men were well accustomed to deceptions of such a -kind by this time, and were not unduly disappointed when the -delightful prospect faded suddenly, revealing a straggling mass of mud -hovels surrounded by a mud wall and clustering about a mud fort. This -was Umarganj, the goal of their efforts--but a goal without reward, as -Captain Keeling perceived when he handed his telescope to his -companion and pointed out a group of men waiting in the shade of the -gateway facing them. - -“Townspeople--on the watch to surrender the place,” he growled. -“Kamal-ud-din and his Arabits have cut their stick, of course.” - -“I wonder now was he gone when the spies brought that tale to -Bleackley yesterday?” said Brian. - -“Not he. Spread the report in the hope Bleackley would think he was a -day late for the fair and go home. You put a stop to that, happily. -Then my young gentleman leaves the fellows we defeated yesterday to -fight a rearguard action and allow him time to get away, and clears -out comfortably while we have our proper meals and go to bed in nice -time!” - -Brian laughed at the savagery of the tone, and they rode on, to be met -by the men they had seen--a number of the notables of the town, whose -protestations of their devotion to the General and the British, and -their delight in surrendering, scarcely carried conviction. They were -a ragged, wild-looking crew, and the place was so miserable and -poverty-stricken that both men were conscious of a mean joy in the -thought that Colonel Bleackley would consider its possession a very -poor return for the long march it had cost. But one of the -ambassadors--possibly reading some depreciation in the faces of the -conquerors--approached them ingratiatingly. - -“The Sahib and the Beebee are quite safe, and their servants,” he -said. “And”--with a smirk--“we have a prisoner to hand over who will -rejoice the heart of the Padishah--on whom be the blessing of God!” - -“The Sahib and Beebee!” repeated Brian in astonishment. “What Sahib -and Beebee? It can’t possibly be----” - -“Not your sister and her husband--how could it be?” demanded Captain -Keeling crushingly. “They are miles away on t’other side of the -river.” - -“I don’t know. I did hear at H.Q. that Puggy had come in swearing he -would stake his reputation they had never been on that bank at all, -but he had gone out on another errand, and I had no time to hunt him -up. If it could be----!” - -“Who is this Sahib?” snapped Captain Keeling to the man. - -“This slave cannot tell his name, Sahib, but he is sick, and his -Beebee enjoys the gift of good fortune.” - -“I wouldn’t exactly have thought that!” muttered Brian. “But I must -see--I’ll ride on. Good heavens, if it might be! How in the world -would they get here?” - -“You had better wait, unless you want to be chased and put under -arrest. Here comes the great Bleackley to take over the negotiations. -Now for a triumphal entry!” - -Quivering with impatience, Brian had to wait while Colonel -Bleackley--through an interpreter--questioned the deputation, and -learned that Kamal-ud-din, with his family and such of his forces as -remained faithful to him, had left the town the night before. Of the -Arabits who declined to follow his fortunes farther, most had gone -their several ways, after plundering where they could, and besides the -townspeople there were left only a few who were tired of fighting, and -the wounded from yesterday’s action. Renewed assurances of the town’s -delight in welcoming the British convinced Colonel Bleackley that no -treachery was to be feared, and he announced his intention of taking -possession of the fort. Led by the Khemistan Horse, the expedition -entered the town and marched through the streets, to be greeted by a -weird apparition as it approached the fort gate. An elderly native--a -down-country Mohammedan from his dress--was dancing wildly on the -battlements and waving his _pagri_ like a streamer. Catching sight of -Brian, he turned the stream of blessings he was pouring on the column -generally into a more personal channel, and Brian recognised his -brother-in-law’s bearer. - -“If you’ll believe me, it is them after all!” he cried joyfully. “Come -down, y’old sinner, and show us where your Sahib is.” - -Descending with miraculous speed by some unseen staircase, Abdul -Qaiyam appeared in the gateway, his turban neatly rolled as though by -magic, his aspect composed and stately. “The Sahib and the Beebee -await the young Sahib,” he announced in his most important voice. - -“Go and find your sister by all means, Delany,” said Colonel -Bleackley, and Brian followed his guide to the courtyard guarding the -zenana door, where Richard lay on his charpoy on the verandah, with -Eveleen beaming proudly at his side, Ketty beside her, and a nervous -figure lurking in the shadows behind. - -“Hillo, Delany!” said Richard. - -“So here y’are at last, Brian!” cried Eveleen, most unjustly. “No -thanks to you we’re here to meet you!” - -“I believe you, ma’am! No thanks to me y’are here at all, but to your -own wicked wayward will. Well, this is a sight for sore eyes! How are -y’, Ambrose? Now tell me all about it, Evie.” - -Shaking hands with Richard and kissing Eveleen simultaneously, Brian -settled himself between them. “Now that’s first chop! Give you my word -I never thought I’d have this pleasure. Sit down here, Evie, and tell -me all the story of your perverse doings, and how you managed to crown -’em all by letting yourself be found at Umarganj instead of among the -Codgers.” - -Eveleen needed no second invitation to embark on so congenial a theme, -and with Richard putting in a dry word or two here and there in a weak -voice--to serve, as he remarked once, as rocks in the path of the -cataract--her narrative poured forth, with characteristic disdain of -order and chronology, and frequent promises to return later to such -and such a point and explain--the moment for which never came. Still, -having extorted permission to tell her tale in her own way, she did -arrive at last at the evening of Richard’s return to consciousness, -and Kamal-ud-din’s most inopportune appearance on the scene. - -“If you’ll believe me, Brian, I was _frightened_”--with the solemnity -needed to carry conviction of so improbable a fact,--“really terribly -frightened. The instant before I was scolding Ambrose for not letting -me know the very moment he had his senses again, and I had plenty more -to say, when there stood that--that _incongruous_ youth, _glooming_ at -us with great angry eyes, and a drawn sword in his hand!” - -“And I leave you to guess what your sister did,” said Richard, taking -advantage of her pause for effect. - -“Why, I’d say she’d spring up and take her stand nobly in the front of -you, and treat that incongruous youth to the rough side of her -tongue,” said Brian. - -“Well, then, I did not!” said Eveleen triumphantly. “You’ll never -guess it. I’m ashamed of myself entirely when I think how I’d ever do -such a thing. I just ducked down behind Ambrose, and cried, and cried, -and cried!” - -“Y’old impostor, Evie!” shouted Brian. - -“I was _not_. ’Twas all I could do--to think how everything had gone -wrong just as it was getting right. And poor Ambrose lying there -getting soaked with tears, and not a chance of saying a word because -of the noise!” - -“As you may imagine, your sister is colouring her narrative a bit,” -supplied Richard. “’Matter of fact, the Khan was as much taken aback -as we were, and began to look most uncommon foolish. It was -unnecessary for me to say anything--even had I had the chance.” - -“Do I understand, then, that Evie wept and wept until her tears would -float him out of the place, still looking foolish?” demanded Brian. - -“You do not. The Seal of Solomon was still hung round Ambrose’s neck, -and the chain cot my hair as I cried. That reminded me of the thing.” - -“It would,” acquiesced Brian gravely. - -“And I jumped up, and took it off Ambrose, and held it out to the -youth and said, ‘Ah, take it, take it, and my blessing with it! All -the luck you can have I’ll wish you with all my heart, and if it’s my -poor eyes y’are set on I’ll give them to y’on a plate like St Lucy, -and go groping blind all the rest of my life, but don’t take me away -from Ambrose here!’” - -“Precious moving!” remarked Brian. “And I hope Kamal-ud-din was duly -moved?” - -“He was not.” Eveleen paused, and Richard filled the gap. - -“Unfortunately my wife spoke in English, you see--which is not one of -the Khan’s accomplishments. Otherwise her rash offer might have been -accepted, and you would have found a shocking spectacle to greet you.” - -“Ah, you may talk and make a joke of it!” said Eveleen, with -tremendous energy; “but I meant it, and I’d have done it too.” - -“I wouldn’t doubt it. But how was the sacrifice averted?” - -“I ventured to put in my oar,” said Richard. “Seeing the youth look -puzzled and angry, I summoned up my best Persian and laid the -compliments on with a trowel. I told him the terror of his name had -frightened my wife into thinking him capable of things he would never -dream of doing. I blamed myself for giving him the seal when it was -not mine to give, and begged him humbly to hold me responsible. I -pointed out that Mrs Ambrose was now quite willing to surrender it--as -a spontaneous tribute of esteem and admiration. I congratulated myself -on recovering my senses in time to unite my sentiments with hers in -making the gift.” - -“Sure you never heard such an oration!” said Eveleen to Brian. “It -flowed on, and gained strength as it flowed--like a river--and I only -understanding a word here and there. And the poor Khan looking more -and more sheepish under the weight of compliments! And the whole thing -no good at all in the end!” - -“No, I deny that!” said Richard vigorously. “If it didn’t convince the -young gentleman, I shall always swear it brought him into an amiable -frame of mind.” - -“And how would he show that? Up to the present, he don’t seem to have -had much chance, between the two of you.” - -“He asked,” said Eveleen with dignity, “was the Beebee willing to give -him the seal of her own free will? _I_ could understand that, and I -nodded my head as fast as I could go.” - -“Quite forgetting that y’ought have nodded up instead of down?” -chuckled Brian. “’Tis a scatter-brain y’are, Evie!” - -“Well, he knew what I meant, because I held the thing out to him with -my sweetest smile, and he took it, and said to Ambrose his mother had -warned him he’d better accept a gift offered with goodwill than seize -an unwilling wife, and I was so thankful I didn’t interrupt the -proceedings to tell him he’d never have had a wife in me.” - -“Sure it’s well he’s a good boy and minds his mamma,” said Brian, his -tone a little puzzled. - -“Ah, but that was not all, then. I wondered would you see it. He said -to Ambrose: ‘The Bahadar Jang gave life to me, his enemy, when he sent -to warn me that my brother was seeking to compass my death. In return -I leave him his people, safe and sound.’ Then some more compliments, -and away he went. And that was the last we saw of him--except a cloud -of dust vanishing to the southward yesterday evening. But who’s this -coming in--Europeans?” - -“The great Bleackley coming to pay his respects to the rescued lady, -no doubt. And Keeling--you know him. Why, my dear girl, what’s the -matter?” for Eveleen had sprung up in terror. - -“It’s Tom. I ought have told you before. I was coming to it. But -they’ll likely not notice.” She shook an agitated finger at the figure -in the background. “Just pretend he ain’t there, Brian.” - -But evidently Colonel Bleackley was better informed than she hoped, -for when he had greeted her and Richard and congratulated them on -their escape and demanded a full account of their adventures later on, -he said blandly-- - -“You have that renegade Thomas here, I understand. Like the fellow’s -impudence to take refuge with you. Wonder he ain’t ashamed to show his -face. The man who trained the Khans’ artillery and fired on the -Residency, I mean.” - -“But sure he has saved our lives again and again. He’s only here now -because he came back to save us when he might have escaped,” urged -Eveleen hotly. “Ah, now, Colonel Bleackley, let the poor fellow go!” - -But Colonel Bleackley shook his head. “Impossible, my dear madam, -impossible! How could I answer to the General for such a piece of -folly? He will wish to deal with the fellow himself, I am certain, and -make an example of him.” - -“Don’t you trouble yourself, Miss Evie,” said Carthew, coming forward -in his shuffling way. “It was bound to come. I’ve never done anybody -much credit yet, but I’m glad it’s through helpin’ you and the Major -that I’ve got caught. Leave it at that.” - -But nothing was farther from Eveleen’s intentions, and the moment -Colonel Bleackley was gone--Carthew having been removed in custody -earlier--she attacked her brother again on the subject. - -“He must be let go, Brian--you must give the General no peace till he -pardons him. He had actually escaped--he went away with the Khan, -leaving us, as he thought, perfectly safe. Then one of the servants -let out that the younger Khanum--Jamal-ud-din’s mother--had left word -with the town authorities, and bribed them, to kill us and make out -we’d never been here at all, and poor Tom came riding back post-haste -to warn us. We were quite quiet and happy, not keeping any watch or -anything, but he got us into the tower beside the gateway, where there -was a little bit of a room with a tiny door, and there we stayed all -night--fearfully hot. The townspeople came prowling round the empty -courts and places, but Tom cocked his pistols very loud when they came -near us, and they were frightened. They must have thought you were not -coming to the city when you didn’t advance yesterday, for this morning -they sent word that ’twas all right, we were quite safe, for you were -coming, and when we sent Bearer up to the top of the gate to look, he -called out that ’twas so, and he danced for joy! But when poor Tom -tried to go away again the way the Khan had gone, the people stopped -him and wouldn’t let him go, and he came back here. We must save him, -or we’ll be disgraced for ever. Ambrose feels just precisely as I do -about it.” - -“Well, my dear, I think if Carthew could make up his mind to face a -trial----” - -“But he can’t--you know he can’t. It ain’t his fault if he was born a -coward, and if it is, we have reason to be tender to his faults if any -one has. If you won’t help him escape, I will.” - -“I will,” said Brian; “but I won’t be melodramatic about it. I’ll just -get hold of the General.” - -And get hold of the General he did--when the expedition retraced its -steps to the riverside camp,--riding ahead to bear the news of all -that had happened. Officers and men streamed out joyously to welcome -Eveleen and her husband--Colonel Bleackley thought it was to welcome -him, and smiled on them graciously,--and Sir Harry himself rode out on -Black Prince, looking old and shaky, with his worn blue coat hanging -loose upon him, but his face wreathed with smiles. - -“I was never so delighted in my life!” he cried, as he shook hands -vigorously with the rescued ones. “It has been touch and go with me, -but I began to mend when I heard Haigh’s guns in the -distance--showing, as I hoped, that Kamal-ud-din had been brought to -action, and now the sight of Mrs Ambrose has wrought a complete cure! -No time to waste if we are to leave that plague-spot in time to get -across the river, but at least we can frizzle through the rest of the -hot weather in the shade at Qadirabad, instead of out in the desert.” - -“Y’ought take a little rest at Bab-us-Sahel yourself, Sir Harry,” said -Eveleen. “’Twould do you great good.” - -“Well, well, all in good time. Lord Maryport has been kind enough to -bid me build a house there and do my work in a better climate than -Qadirabad. You and Ambrose may go down by road now in safety if you -choose, for the King of the Codgers has thrown up his hand. Vowed to -Doveton at Bab-us-Sahel that he would never come in to make his -submission with less than seven hundred retainers at his back, the old -rascal! but I sent him word he was to present himself in Qadirabad -without a follower of any sort, and he’s coming! So you may go when -you like--but with an escort this time, if you please, ma’am----” -Eveleen had the grace to look ashamed. “Keeping us all on the rack -with anxiety on your behalf--as if the hot weather wasn’t trying -enough by itself,--and taking up the services of my whole espionage to -find you, without even letting ’em have the satisfaction of doing it! -It’s to that brother of yours you owe it that you’re here, do you know -that?” - -“I do, Sir Harry, I do. Knowing him yourself, would you say he was one -to hide his trumpet under a bushel?” - -Sir Harry considered the metaphor gravely. “Perhaps not, -ma’am--perhaps not. But I owe him not a little gratitude for schooling -that fighting brute Dick Turpin for me. The beast is a reformed -character nowadays, by the look of him. I shall hear of it from the -Bombay papers, no doubt--a regular shout of execration of the wicked -officer who all but killed his horse. Or they’ll go a step farther, -and say he did kill him. Why not? paper and ink are cheap, and truth -is precious dear. Some day I shall see it set forth solemnly in print -that I eat an Arabit baby for my breakfast every morning, and insist -upon having ’em fat--ever since the mild and restraining influence of -the accomplished Colonel Bayard was so unfortunately withdrawn!” - -He spoke in jest, but as though with prevision of the paper warfare -that was to embitter the remainder of his life. The Flag might fly -from the round tower of Qadirabad, and in the cool chambers where the -Khans had passed their time drowsily in drugged slumber their -supplanter might work ten, twelve, eighteen hours a day upon plans for -the sanitary, economic, moral betterment of Khemistan. But the flow of -poisoned comment from Bombay was to know no rest, and the famous -Bayard-Lennox controversy, which raged unabated throughout both men’s -lives, and still divides historians, was to leave the home authorities -doubtful whether the annexation of Khemistan had not after all been a -piece of high-handed rascality perpetrated by the General on his own -authority, and to rob him and his force of their well-deserved -honours. Sir Harry could not see as far as this, however. - -“But I’ll do something for your brother myself,” he added -mysteriously. “He shall go down to Bombay in September with my nephew -Fred, and help him bring back my wife and girls. That’s a task to his -mind--eh? Don’t you tell him, ma’am--let it come as a surprise. -Where’s the fellow gone?” - -“Here he is,” said Eveleen, rather nervously, for Brian had rejoined -them in company with a sallow man in native dress, who seemed to shun -the curious glances thrown at him. “And this is the person who saved -our lives, Sir Harry.” - -The General looked searchingly at the renegade, then spoke briskly. -“An American, I understand, Mr Thomas?” - -It was the chance of escape, and Eveleen breathed again. But for once -Carthew held up his head and squared his shoulders. “No, General; I -can’t deny my country even to save my life. I am an Englishman.” - -“Nothing to boast of in your case, I fear. I am sorry to see you here. -At Qadirabad I shall be compelled to place you under strict arrest, -pending an enquiry into your case--at Qadirabad, do you understand?” - -If Carthew did not understand, Brian and Eveleen did, and the next -morning the two, going out for an early ride, halted near a tent on -the outskirts of the camp, mysteriously left unguarded. Brian led a -spare horse with well-filled saddle-bags, and when they rode on again -this horse had a rider. Out of sight of the camp, on the southward -route leading eventually to Kamal-ud-din’s refuge in the Delta, the -three halted. - -“Tom, you wouldn’t come back even now and face it?” asked Eveleen -anxiously. “The General would see you had a fair trial, and we would -all bear witness----” - -“I can’t, Miss Evie.” Carthew’s habitual stoop and shifty manner had -returned. “I can’t face it. I’m shamed enough. The private soldiers -point their thumbs at me. They all know who I am--the chap that fired -on his own people. No, thankin’ you kindly, I’ll go where everybody -else is as bad as me.” - -“God bless you, Tom--even there--wherever you go!” and Eveleen and -Brian shook hands with him, and watched him ride away in the cool -light of the dawn. - - * * * * * * * * - -“I’m greatly pleased you have seen my sister--really made her -acquaintance, I mean.” Brian spoke with an anxiety which was a little -comic in view of the extreme youth of the lady he was addressing. Miss -Sally Lennox resembled her father too strongly to be called -good-looking, and Brian was the only person ever likely to claim that -the famous eagle-beak was an ornament to a feminine face. She was very -quiet in manner, even demure--an epithet which was not one of reproach -in those days. Brian and she were sitting on the steps leading to the -ramparts above the General’s house in the Fort, with the charitable -purpose of shielding the retreat of her elder sister and Captain -Stewart to the battlements overhead, where they were enjoying sweet -communion, all unconscious that Sir Harry was demanding his senior -aide-de-camp, and Lady Lennox looking for her step-daughter. - -“Yes, Mamma gave me permission to spend the day with her. Papa was so -kind as to ask her for me.” Miss Sally was invariably proper to the -point of primness in her intercourse with her stepmother, which may -have accounted for some of the wisdom with which her father credited -her. - -“And you saw a good deal of her? And--and did you get on?” - -The amusement in Sally’s smile was not unmixed with gentle contempt. -She not to “get on” with any woman living--or to confess it if she did -not! “Oh, I assure you we got on delightfully. Mrs Ambrose was good -enough to describe all her adventures to me. How charmingly she -talks--so original and vivacious, ain’t she?” - -“And did you see Ambrose at all?” - -“He came in while I was there. I thought him a very agreeable, -gentlemanly person. I adore that dry cool manner.” The merest glint of -an upward glance through long eyelashes to observe how Brian received -this, which was naturally not with enthusiasm. - -“He’s a good fellow, of course. I wonder now--d’ye remember my telling -y’at Poonah I was troubled about my sister and Ambrose?--that they -didn’t seem quite to hit it off together.” - -“I remember it perfectly.” Again the smile. As though any information -was ever forgotten that had once been stored away beneath the smooth -bands of hair on that knowing little head! - -“Well, now, did you notice anything of the kind--that he did not -appreciate her as he ought?” - -“No, indeed. I thought them a most congenial couple.” - -“Well, there y’are now! That was the very last thing I’d have said of -’em. Was it just my fancy after all? Wait now and I’ll tell you. When -I was on my way here with the General first of all, I heard a man in -the Club at Bombay telling a story of another man who went home at the -same time he did, to marry a lady he’d got engaged to years and years -before. This man was at a ball one night, and the second man came into -the supper-room looking like a ghost, and poured himself out a glass -of brandy neat. ‘What’s the matter?’ says the first fellow. ‘She’s -old--she’s old!’ he says--‘and she was the loveliest girl in the three -kingdoms.’ ‘But sure y’have seen her before to-night?’ says t’other. -‘Times and times, but always in the open, and on her horse. ’Tis a -picture she is then, as she always was. But to-night, dressed up among -all the girls----! And I have come eight thousand miles to marry her!’ -‘And did he marry her?’ asks one of the men that were listening. ‘Of -course,’ says the fellow--‘’tis the sort he is,’ and that was all. I -was not saying anything, naturally, but I made some enquiries -afterwards in a careless sort of way, and found the man that had -spoken was in Ireland about the time my sister was married. Tell me -now, what d’ye think?” - -This time Sally’s smile was very pleasant--almost compassionate. “Let -me tell you what I noticed,” she said. “Your sister and I were -together in her room when Major Ambrose came in from office. Your -sister rose to go and meet him, but remembered me and sat down again, -though I begged her not to make a stranger of me. Then he came and -looked round the curtain. ‘Er--I wanted just to know where you were, -my dear,’ he said. Now where should she be but there? It was not -necessary for him to come. He came because he wished to see her.” - -“And you gather from that----?” - -“Pray what would _you_ gather?” - -“It sounds all right, don’t it? Well, that’s consoling, indeed. But -will you tell me, was it all right the whole time or not? Was I just -imagining things?” - -“How can I tell? And”--demurely--“do you think we ought to discuss -other people’s affairs in this way?” - -“But sure it’s my own sister, and for my own consolation. She was a -pretty good age, of course--bound to be after all those years. It’s -t’other way about with me, don’t you know? The girl I’ll marry will be -nothing but a babe in arms compared with me.” From some idea of the -reverence due to youth, Brian was wont to conduct his wooing in this -impersonal style, which was seen through by the lady with the greatest -ease. - -“Never mind!” she said kindly. “I am sure she will cherish the utmost -regard for you.” - -“But I’ll be double her age! I’ll be a he-hag!” - -“It sounds rather like an ass,” murmured Sally. “Donkey” was a slang -word then--as “moke” is now, and impossible on the lips of Lady -Lennox’s step-daughter. - -“Then it sounds like what I am! But will it be that all poor Evie did -for her husband--when she saved his life, don’t you know,--will that -have turned his heart to her again?” - -“How sentimental we are becoming!” lightly. “No, I think not. Efforts -of that kind might prove her own affection for her husband, but could -hardly awaken his if it were dead.” - -“Then will you tell me what it was that did, O wise young judge?” - -“How can I say for certain? I can only suggest that Major Ambrose is -convinced by this time that his wife is one of the happy people who -never grow old----” - -“He is that, indeed. Have I not heard him myself times without number -cast it at her that she would never grow _up_?” - -“I had not quite finished.--And perhaps he finds himself prizing, -because they are hers, even those features in her character which he -used to resent.” - -“Cannot do without her--eh? But sure that’s a consequence, and I’m -asking you for a cause, a reason, an explanation!” - -“I’m afraid that’s all I can give you,” meekly. - -“‘My wise little Sally!’” murmured Brian. - -“That is a quotation--from Papa, ain’t it?” reprovingly. - -“Quite so. But”--audaciously--“it’s a quotation which I trust one day -to make my own!” - - THE END. - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg. - -This book is part of the author’s “Modern East” series. The full -series, in order, being: - - The Flag of the Adventurer - Two Strong Men - The Advanced-Guard - His Excellency’s English Governess - Peace With Honour - The Warden of the Marches - -Alterations to the text: - -A few minor punctuation corrections. - -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies have been left -as is. - -[Title Page] - -Add illustrator’s credit and brief note indicating this novel’s -position in the series. See above. - -[Footnotes] - -Place footnotes in square brackets inline with the text. - -[Chapter I] - -Change “Shahbaz Khan, and his son, _Karimdad_” to _Karimdâd_. (Keeping -this character’s name consistent.) - -[Chapter V] - -“Have it your own way, my dear, You have your…” change the second -comma to a period. - -[Chapter XIII] - -“stopping the _daks_ and attacking our boats” to _dâks_. (Keeping -this foreign word consistent.) - -[Chapter XV] - -“gun was heard in front, then a regular _fusilade_” to _fusillade_. - -[Chapter XVI] - -“there was no _respose_ to the dismay in Colonel Bayard’s” to -_response_. - -[Chapter XXII] - -“because you’ve been _contrairy_ wishing it” to _contrary_. - -[End of Text] - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG OF THE ADVENTURER *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Grier - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -/* Headers and Divisions */ - h1, h2, h3 {margin:2em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} - - div.tp {text-align:center;} /* title page */ - - .nobreak {page-break-before:avoid;} - - /* center a block of text */ - div.quote_o {font-size:90%; margin:0.5em 2em 0.5em 2em; text-align:center;} - div.quote_i {display:inline-block; text-align:left;} - -/* General */ - - body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} - - p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:2em;} - p.center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.noindent {text-indent:0em;} - p.sign2 {margin:0em 2em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} - p.spacer {margin:0.5em 0em 0.5em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.end {margin:1em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - - p.toc_1 {font-variant:small-caps; text-align:left; text-indent:0em;} - - div.letter {margin:1em 0em 1em 3em;} - - span.font80 {font-size:80%;} - span.sc {font-variant:small-caps;} - span.chap_sub {font-size:80%;} - -/* Images and captions */ - -div.fig {margin:auto; padding:1em 1em 1em 1em; text-align:center;} - -div.caption {font-size:80%; padding:0 2em 0 2em; text-align:center;} - -img {width:50%;} - - - </style> -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Flag of the Adventurer, by Sydney C. Grier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Flag of the Adventurer</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Sydney C. Grier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: A. Pearse</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 15, 2021 [eBook #65844]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG OF THE ADVENTURER ***</div> - -<div class="fig"> -<img alt="GOD SAVE THE QUEEN." src="images/img_fp.jpg" /> -<div class="caption"> -“GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.” -</div></div> - - -<div class="tp"> -<h1> -The<br/> -Flag of the Adventurer -</h1> - -BY<br/> -SYDNEY C. GRIER<br/> -<span class="font80">AUTHOR OF<br/> -‘THE WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,’ ‘THE STRONG HAND,’<br/> -ETC., ETC.</span> - -<br/><br/> -<i>WITH FRONTISPIECE BY A. PEARSE</i> - -<br/><br/> -(<i>First in the Modern East series</i>)<br/> -<br/><br/> - -<span class="font80">“When glimmers down the riotous wind<br/> -The flag of the Adventurer”</span> - -<br/><br/><br/> -William Blackwood and Sons<br/> -Edinburgh and London<br/> -1921<br/> -<span class="font80"><i>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</i></span> -</div> - - -<h2> -CONTENTS. -</h2> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch01">I. MAJOR AND MRS AMBROSE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch02">II. THE RIFT IN THE LUTE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch03">III. COLONEL BAYARD’S BURDEN</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch04">IV. A LUCKLESS DAY</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch05">V. THE SEAL OF SOLOMON</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch06">VI. ENTER THE ADVENTURER</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch07">VII. THE OLD ORDER CHANGES</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch08">VIII. TOO CLEVER BY HALF</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch09">IX. DINNER AT THE GENERAL’S</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch10">X. A CONTEST OF WITS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch11">XI. DEEDS, NOT WORDS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch12">XII. AN ERROR OF JUDGMENT</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch13">XIII. A LAST EFFORT</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch14">XIV. OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN—</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch15">XV. —INTO THE FIRE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch16">XVI. THE MORROW OF VICTORY</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch17">XVII. SUPPORTED ON BAYONETS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch18">XVIII. PLUCK AND LUCK</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch19">XIX. THE SECOND ROUND</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch20">XX. IF SHE WILL, SHE WILL</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch21">XXI. WELL AND TRULY LAID</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch22">XXII. THE BELLE AND THE BAUBLE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch23">XXIII. BRIAN TO THE RESCUE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch24">XXIV. A SORE STRAIT</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch25">XXV. USE AND WONT</a> -</p> - - -<h2> -The Flag of the Adventurer. -</h2> - -<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> -CHAPTER I.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MAJOR AND MRS AMBROSE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">At</span> last!” murmured Eveleen Ambrose with heartfelt relief, gaining -the unsteady deck by dint of a frantic clutch at her husband’s arm, -and cannoning helplessly against an unfortunate man who happened to be -standing near the head of the ladder. “Oh, I beg your pardon!” as he -staggered wildly and recovered himself, with a look of mortal offence -on his face; “I am so sorry—I——” -</p> - -<p> -“Steady!” said her husband sharply, retrieving her from an -unintentional rush across the deck, and setting her up in a corner. -“What’s the matter with you—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“The matter?” Eveleen’s Irish mind was so unhappily constituted that -it saw humour where none was visible to others. She began to laugh -weakly. “The matter? Oh, nothing at all, of course!” -</p> - -<p> -“Hysterics now, I suppose.” Richard Ambrose’s voice was rough. -</p> - -<p> -“I am <i>never</i> hysterical!” indignantly. “But after four days and -nights of being tossed about like a cork in that cabin down there, -till I know the feel of every inch of the floor and ceiling of it—and -hard enough they are, I can tell you!—mayn’t I have your gracious -leave to be just a little weeshy bit shaky?” -</p> - -<p> -“Exaggeration is not wit,” he growled. “You have my free leave to feel -as you like, provided it don’t make you go about knocking people -down.” -</p> - -<p> -Tears—never very far from laughter in Irish eyes—rose rebelliously, -and Eveleen turned quickly to gaze at the shore whose first appearance -she had hailed with so much joy. There was nothing particularly -attractive about the long line of mud-coloured coast backed by low -mud-coloured hills, beyond a wide—still horribly wide—waste of -tumbling waters; but it was land, blessed solid land! The man against -whom she had cannoned spoke suddenly—she had the instant idea that he -had been trying to make up his mind whether the circumstances -warranted his addressing her without an introduction. -</p> - -<p> -“The fact is, ma’am, ladies have no business in these steamboats. The -cabin may have seemed uncommon incommodious to you, but in order that -you and your companions might enjoy it, four of the gentlemen on board -had no cabin at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh!” in dismay. “But ’twas not for you to tell me that!” she flashed -out at him. -</p> - -<p> -“I had a reason, ma’am—to convince you that you should not be here.” -</p> - -<p> -“And pray, sir, what other way would we poor females get to -Khemistan?” -</p> - -<p> -“My point precisely, ma’am.” He spoke under difficulties, swaying to -and fro and holding fast to the rail. “Khemistan is no place for -European females—nor will be for years to come. But when charming -ladies take it into their pretty heads to go there, what is poor Hubby -to do? ‘My dear, believe me, I can’t take you with me.’ ‘Oh, but you -will, won’t you?’ ‘Quite impossible, my dear.’ ‘Ah, but you can do it -if you like, I know. And you must.’ And he does—naturally.” -</p> - -<p> -Richard Ambrose chuckled disagreeably, and the colour rose in his -wife’s cheeks. “It’s a bachelor y’are, sir, by your own confession,” -she said sweetly to the stranger. “No married man would dare to draw -such a picture. The best I can wish you is that you may find how true -it is!” She meant to end with a little contemptuous curtsey, but the -moment she loosed her hold of the shawl over her head, the wind caught -it and hurled it full in the stranger’s face. This time he did lose -his footing, and went slipping and sliding across the deck till he was -brought up by the bulwarks. -</p> - -<p> -“One for you, Crosse!” cried Richard Ambrose loudly, and holding his -wife with one hand, secured the loose end of shawl and tucked it in -with the other. “Can’t you look after your own fallals?” he demanded. -“It ain’t enough to make out that you wanted to come and I couldn’t do -without you—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“I did want to come,” persisted Eveleen stoutly. “And pray would you -have me tell people y’are bringing me here for a punishment because -you can’t find a keeper in Bombay to look after me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray remember you are not a child,” he said—so coldly that she grew -red again, and moved as far from him as the necessity of submitting to -his protecting arm would allow. But it was difficult to maintain an -attitude of dignified displeasure in the circumstances. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, we are anchoring already!” she cried in dismay a moment later. -Her husband smiled superior. -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely, my dear. Now you will have an opportunity of experiencing -the full pleasure of landing at Bab-us-Sahel. It might be worse, -however, for the tide is fairly high.” -</p> - -<p> -Privately Eveleen wondered how low water could possibly make the -landing worse, when the passengers and their luggage had been -transferred from the rolling steamer to an equally unsteady tug, and -thence into large open boats, in which the water seemed terribly -near—and actually was, as she discovered on finding the wet mounting -higher and higher up her skirts. They were to land at a pier, she -knew, which was comforting, but alas! there was another transhipment -before reaching it, this time into light canoes, since the boats drew -too much water to enter the creek in which it stood. Dazed, shaken, -and sea-sick, Eveleen had no pride left. With closed eyes, she leaned -her swimming head against her husband’s shoulder as they came into -smoother water, and told herself that this misery had lasted so long -she would not be surprised if the tide had gone out. What would they -do then? she speculated in a detached kind of way—change into some -other kind of craft, or paddle up and down and dodge the rollers until -the flow? -</p> - -<p> -“There’s Bayard waiting to meet us!” said her husband sharply. She -opened one eye weakly, and discerned figures on the pier. -</p> - -<p> -“‘The celebrated Colonel Bayard!’” she quoted in a dreamy whisper, and -shut it again. -</p> - -<p> -“But not Mrs Bayard!” Richard was evidently injured. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps—the sight of—this sea—makes her—ill. I would -not—wonder,” murmured Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, my dear! Considering my friendship with Bayard, and the -kindness she professed towards you when she heard——” -</p> - -<p> -“Her husband maybe teased her—to come—so she wouldn’t,” and even in -her misery Eveleen was conscious of triumph. It was something to have -reduced Richard to speechless indignation, were it but for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Halloo, Ambrose! Glad to see you, my dear fellow!” The words sounded -startlingly near, and looking up quickly, she saw a small stoutish -dark-moustached officer hanging perilously on what looked like a -ladder just above them. As the canoe rocked this way and that with the -motion of the waves, he seemed to be performing the wildest acrobatic -feats, as though it were the pier and not the boat that rose and fell. -She closed her eyes again hopelessly. -</p> - -<p> -“Your poor wife overcome by all this landing business? I don’t wonder. -Lift her up, man. Now, ma’am, give me your hand, and we’ll have you on -firm ground in no time.” -</p> - -<p> -The deep commanding voice mastered even her helpless lassitude, and -she looked up into the kindest eyes she had ever seen. Her hand was -seized in a strong clasp, and somehow—between Richard and Colonel -Bayard—she was hoisted up the ladder before she had time to notice -with horror how very rickety it was. -</p> - -<p> -“‘Firm ground!’” she said reproachfully when she reached the top, for -the pier seemed to be swaying every way at once, and between its -sun-warped timbers the water was disconcertingly visible. -</p> - -<p> -“In a moment, in a moment!” said Colonel Bayard soothingly, as though -speaking to a child. “I brought my wife’s palanquin for you, but I had -not realised how bad the landing would be. Would you prefer to wait -here while I have it fetched?” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed I would not—not here!” said Eveleen with a shudder, and -supported by the two men, she stumbled uncertainly along the pier. -</p> - -<p> -“I trust Mrs Bayard ain’t ill?” said Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“You could answer that better than I, my good fellow, for you must -have passed her on your way up from Bombay. I had to send her down by -the next steamer after you had started. So end my hopes of making a -home up here. Heigh-ho!” -</p> - -<p> -He gave a great sigh, and Eveleen looked up at him sympathetically. -Not noticing that they had come to the end of the pier, she stumbled -wildly in the loose sand, and fell. The Resident had her up again in a -moment. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear lady, forgive me!” he cried, in deep contrition. “I fear -Khemistan is giving you a sorry welcome.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but think how I’ll be adoring the place when I fall on my knees -at the first sight of it!” she said, laughing feebly, while her -husband—in awful silence—did his best to brush the wet sand from her -gown. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the spirit!” said Colonel Bayard approvingly. “Mrs Ambrose is -cut out for the frontier, Richard. Now, ma’am!” -</p> - -<p> -He was handing her into the waiting <i>palki</i>, while she looked -longingly at the ponies waiting for the two men. If only there were -one for her! But Colonel Bayard would probably be scandalised, and -Richard certainly would, if she proposed to ride through the town on a -man’s saddle, with a stirrup thrown over to serve as pommel. -</p> - -<p> -“The many times I’ve done it at home!” she lamented to herself. “And -sure this place might be in Ireland, only that it’s brown instead of -green.” -</p> - -<p> -But she settled herself meekly on the cushions, and closed her eyes, -that the swaying of the <i>palki</i> might not recall too vividly the -motion of the steamer. She was not losing much, she told herself, for -the inhabitants of Bab-us-Sahel appeared to live either in mud-heaps -or within high mud walls, both windowless, and there was not a tree to -be seen. She must have gone to sleep before very long, for she woke -with a start when the reed blind was drawn aside, and Colonel Bayard’s -face appeared in the doorway—a sepoy guard standing to attention -behind him. -</p> - -<p> -“Welcome to Government House, Mrs Ambrose! Let me say as the Spaniards -do, ‘This house is yours, ma’am.’ Turn it upside down if you like, and -do me the favour of chivying the servants as much as you please. My -wife always declares I spoil ’em when she ain’t with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but tell me now—will you let me ride your horses?” demanded -Eveleen, pausing as he helped her out. The mud-built town was below -them now, for they were at the top of a long slope. An immensely wide -road with ostentatiously white houses on either side, so rigidly -spaced that they looked like tents in a camp, led down to a muddy -swamp, and by a causeway across it to the mud-heap which was -Bab-us-Sahel. Some attempt had been made by most of the householders -to enclose their domains with a hedge, but the only available plant -seemed to be a weak and straggly kind of cactus, which left more gaps -than it filled. Government House was mud-built and white-washed like -the rest, long and narrow and surrounded by verandahs, and boasted an -imposing flagstaff in front, together with a circular enclosure, -intended as a flower-bed, in which grew a few debilitated shrubs. -Glaring sunshine and shadeless sand were the salient features of the -scene from which Eveleen withdrew her eyes as she looked up at her -host. -</p> - -<p> -“With all my heart, if I had any,” he responded genially. “But I’ll -confess I am a precious lazy fellow when there’s no hunting in -question. Bring me <i>khubber</i> of a tiger, and I’ll ride all day and all -night to get at him, but here——! My dear ma’am, this respectable -elderly gentleman”—he indicated the pony from which he had just -dismounted—“represents my whole stable, and you can see by his figure -that he don’t get much to do.” -</p> - -<p> -“And such a galloping country!” Deep commiseration was in Eveleen’s -tone as she looked down the other side of the rise to the bare rolling -sandy plain. “I’ll have to wait till my own horses are landed, then, -before challenging you to a race.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose is going to wake us all up, I see, Richard!” Colonel -Bayard beamed as he handed her into the house. He had to perfection -the gift of doing little things greatly, and Queen Victoria herself -could not have been ushered in with more <i>empressement</i>. “Now if -anything is not as you like it, ma’am, command me and all I have, I -beg of you. You won’t feel bound to show yourself at table if you -ain’t equal to it? Ambrose and I will devour our grub in solitude, -like a pair of uncivilised bachelors again.” -</p> - -<p> -“As if I’d allow that! Sure I’ll be there!” and Eveleen nodded -brightly as she disappeared under the curtain that hung before the -doorway of her room. Her mercurial spirits were recovering fast from -the gloom of the voyage. Everything was interesting, and therefore -cheerful—the new country, the unfamiliar house, this dear chivalrous -Colonel Bayard. What a shame it was that his wife had let herself be -sent away! “Sure I’d have stuck to him with teeth and claws!” she said -to herself, and broke into her ready laughter at the thought of the -inconvenience of such a devotion to its object. -</p> - -<p> -Several hours of healthy slumber left Eveleen almost restored to her -usual self, though still a little languid and pale. Her luggage had -arrived while she slept, and also her ayah, who was much less welcome. -Ketty was an elderly Goanese woman of vast experience and monumental -propriety, and Eveleen suspected that Richard Ambrose had chosen her -out to keep his erratic wife in order. Her last mistress had been the -lady of a Member of Council, and what Ketty did not know of the -manners and customs proper to ladies in high places was not worth -knowing. Mutely, but firmly, she indicated on all occasions what ought -to be worn, and also the appropriate style of hair-dressing, quite -regardless of the wishes of her Madam Sahib—the very word showed in -what high society she had moved, for in all but very lofty households -the English lady was still alluded to as the Beebee. But to-day -Eveleen’s reviving spirits led her to trample ruthlessly on Ketty. The -ayah had laid out a white gown, and it was summarily rejected. Eveleen -had all the Irishwoman’s love of easy old clothes, and in the open -trunk she caught sight of a beloved garment that had once been a -rather bright blue, but was now faded to a soft dull shade, the -proximity of which only a milky skin and Irish blue eyes could endure -with impunity. That dress she would wear and no other. -</p> - -<p> -“A stiff starchy thing like that white brilliant!” she was talking to -herself again, as she often did, since Ketty’s lack of response tried -her sorely after the companionable garrulity of Irish servants. “No, -I’ll be comfortable to-night—haven’t I earned it? Sure I’d be a -regular ghost in white, and why would I want to haunt poor Colonel -Bayard’s house before I’m dead?” Then severely, “Ayah, I said the -blue. So that’s done!” triumphantly. “And now what to wear with it? I -know what I’d like,” turning over the trinkets which Ketty, with an -aloof and reserved air—as of one who refused all responsibility for -such doings—laid before her, “and that’s you, you beauty. Isn’t it a -real match for my eyes y’are, as Uncle Tom said when he gave you to -me?” She took up a disc of flawed turquoise, some two inches across, -set in silver and hanging from a steel chain, and looked at it -affectionately, but put it down again. “No, Ambrose would have too -much to say about my childish taste for ‘something large and smooth -and round,’ and why would I provoke him when I needn’t? So we’ll be -quite proper and suitable, and wear his bracelet with his hair and his -portrait in it. Ah, my dear, what has happened you that you’d be so -changed since you gave me that?” This was added in a painful whisper, -but in a moment Eveleen had brushed the tears hastily from her eyes -and turned to the door, accepting impatiently the handkerchief with -which Ketty hurried after her. -</p> - -<p> -Colonel Bayard was the prince of hosts. He told Eveleen that were he -only a younger man, he would have a dozen duels on his hands the next -morning for depriving the rest of the European community, if only for -one day, of the honour of meeting her at supper—and all owing to his -thinking she might be fatigued, which he saw now was quite -unnecessary. Perhaps the voyage had been better than he feared. It -could have been worse, she assured him, and described its horrors -dramatically for his amusement and sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -“And there was a cross officer—oh, and his name <i>was</i> Crosse!” she -laughed delightedly—“said that ladies had no business on board ship. -There’s a nasty wretch for you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor Crosse was uncommonly riled—had no cabin all the voyage,” -explained her husband. “But he got precious little compassion from Mrs -Ambrose.” -</p> - -<p> -“And he deserved none—did he, ma’am?” said Colonel Bayard heartily. -“Now I know why Crosse chose to go on at once and catch the steamer -starting for Qadirabad to-morrow evening. He was afraid he’d be hooted -out of decent society if it was known he had said such an atrocious -thing. But talking of steamers, Mrs Ambrose, don’t use up all your -adjectives too soon, or you’ll have none left for the river craft, and -the Bombay boats are palaces to ’em!” Precise people still talked -about “steamboats” in the early ’forties, but the word steamer had -established itself in familiar use, and Eveleen took it up promptly. -</p> - -<p> -“But what I want to know is, why wouldn’t you have better steamers, if -that’s your only way of getting about?” she demanded. “And tell me, -why wouldn’t you have a better landing-place here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why should we?” Colonel Bayard bristled up unaccountably. “The place -ain’t ours.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure it’s as good as ours!” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it. It’s entirely our own fault that we are here, and if -we set to work to improve the place, the people to whom it belongs -would suspect us of wanting to land more troops and take possession of -it—most naturally, in my opinion. Therefore I won’t have it touched. -It’s the same with the steamers. The people here don’t want ’em—don’t -share our craze for getting about quickly—and the landowners swear -the wash damages the river banks.” -</p> - -<p> -“That old codger Gul Ali Khan making bobbery about his <i>shikargah</i> -again?” asked Richard Ambrose sympathetically, and thereafter the talk -became local and technical in the extreme, while Eveleen listened -fascinated. This was what she loved—and her husband would never talk -to her about his work, and was chary of affording information even -when she asked for it. Now he forgot her intrusive presence, and -talked simply and naturally, while she sat with her head a little on -one side and drank in admiringly what he said. -</p> - -<p> -Presently they were speaking of public affairs, and of the -Governor-General’s tardy permission to the punitive expedition against -Ethiopia to take—at its commander’s pleasure and on his -responsibility—a return route which might serve to bring home the -abiding nature of British power to a people hugging delicious memories -of a disaster which had shaken the white man’s prestige throughout -Asia. -</p> - -<p> -“They were saying at Bombay that Lord Maryport consulted old Lennox -before he consented—or at any rate that Lennox had given him the -advice,” said Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“Much more likely!” said Colonel Bayard quickly. “Well, he will always -have that to his credit, at any rate—that we were not left to be the -laughing-stock of the East. Oh, I have nothing against the old fellow, -provided he stays down where he is, and don’t come meddling up here.” -</p> - -<p> -“But don’t you like Sir Harry Lennox, Colonel Bayard?” asked -Eveleen—her tone suggesting that she did. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t I say I have nothing against him, my dear lady? But there’s no -earthly reason for the Bombay C.-in-C. to come poking about in -Khemistan. It ain’t his to poke about in, for one thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“That little difficulty wouldn’t stop him,” said Ambrose drily. “You -should hear the Bombay people talk. He’s fluttering their dovecots for -’em, and no mistake.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, well, we all know there are plenty of dark corners that want -sweeping out, and he’s welcome to do it. Did you get a sight of him -when you were down there?” -</p> - -<p> -“He happened to be in the town, so I went to pay my respects. The -queerest old ruffian you ever saw—black as a nigger, with a beak like -any old Jew in the bazar, and whiskers streaming every way at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s to hide the scar he got at Busaco he wears them long,” broke in -Eveleen indignantly. “He has been severely wounded seven times—it’s -covered with scars he is entirely.” -</p> - -<p> -“And would feel himself amply repaid if he knew Mrs Ambrose kept count -of ’em, I’ll be bound,” said Colonel Bayard gallantly. “Is the old -General a friend of yours, ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -“He is, indeed. At least, I met him when I was at Mahabuleshwar, and -he was very kind. He might have been an Irishman.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really? Well, they say that, thanks to being born in Ireland, he has -all the Irish vices without a drop of Irish blood in his veins.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose is Irish—you may not be aware——” broke in Major -Ambrose hastily. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear lady, forgive me!” Colonel Bayard’s gesture of contrition -would have disarmed a heart of stone. “What have I said—anything to -wound——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it!” Eveleen flashed back at him. “We are not wild -Irish, don’t you know—the tame kind. We were always taught to behave -nicely and try to be English.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose would jest on her deathbed, I believe,” said her husband, -rather uncomfortably. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Absit omen!</i>” Colonel Bayard looked quickly at Eveleen to see -whether the words had hurt her, but she smiled back with twinkling -eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Now you see what Ambrose is in private life—always talking about -deathbeds and the poorhouse and cheerful things of that sort. There! -I’ve forgotten again. The poorhouse is a solemn subject, and not to be -mentioned in the same breath with a joke.” -</p> - -<p> -She glanced with mock apology at her husband, but there was a touch of -defiance in the tone, and Colonel Bayard hastened to smooth matters -over. “Well, ma’am, I have forgot what it was I said—though I’m sure -you remember it—but you’ll oblige me by considering it unsaid. I’ll -swear Sir Harry Lennox is the greatest hero since Achilles if that -will please you—provided he keeps away from Khemistan.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but why?” with poignant reproach. “If he comes, he’ll be bringing -Brian with him—my brother.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, what nonsense are you talking?” interjected her husband. She -drew back a little. -</p> - -<p> -“It was nonsense, of course. Why would he come at all? But if he did -come—why, Sir Harry loves his Irishmen, as everybody knows.” -</p> - -<p> -“Still I hope he won’t bring ’em here. We want no more British troops -in Khemistan, Mrs Ambrose. When we came here three years ago it was -doing one injustice in order to do another. We wanted to use Khemistan -as a stepping-stone to get at Ethiopia, and when we had done it we -refused to go away. We forced a treaty upon the Khans, and we kept -this place. Do you wonder that the sight of more redcoats would -convince ’em that we meant to take the whole country?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m crushed! I’m crushed!” she held up her hands suppliantly. “But -please, <i>I</i> don’t want to take the whole country—nor any of it, -except perhaps a paddock big enough to put up some jumps in.” -</p> - -<p> -“How can you be so childish, my dear?” demanded her husband -impatiently, but Colonel Bayard bent his head with a deferential -gesture. -</p> - -<p> -“No, my dear Ambrose, I am justly rebuked. As Mrs Ambrose sees, I am -liable to grow improperly warm on this subject. But she will pardon me -when she learns the nature of my charge here. I stand as guardian, -ma’am, to the entire ruling family, and I swear I love ’em as if they -were my own children.” -</p> - -<p> -“The whole lot of ’em—from frowsy old Gul Ali down to little fat -Hafiz-Ullah,” assented Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“Your husband may laugh at me, ma’am, but I swear he values the -friendship of my dear Khans as much as I do.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do I? Well, you know my opinion,” said Ambrose dispassionately. “Good -sportsmen, most of ’em, but precious tough customers.” -</p> - -<p> -“Only where they have been wrongly handled——” and off the two men -went again into a discussion of the character, public and private, of -the Khans of Khemistan. The house seemed to present a bewildering -complexity of uncles and brothers and nephews, but Eveleen gathered -that Gul Ali Khan, the eldest brother—or uncle?—was the acknowledged -head of a confederacy of rulers, though the position would not -necessarily descend to his children, but to the eldest male member of -the family who happened to be alive at his death. The arrangement -seemed to have its temptations for enterprising young Khans not -overburdened with scruples, and Colonel Bayard was persuaded that on -Gul Ali’s death there would be a tussle for the chiefship between his -brother, Shahbaz Khan, and his son, Karimdâd. But when he had reached -this interesting point, he suddenly awoke again to Eveleen’s presence. -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, you must be bored to death! Pardon me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I love listening to it,” she assured him truthfully, but she rose and -collected handkerchief and fan. If only he would disregard her -presence as completely as he did that of the silent statuesque -servants behind the chairs, how much she might learn of this new life -to which she had come! There was a touch of reproach in her manner as -she passed him, and he saw it. Mrs Ambrose interested him. What could -be the reason of the evident coolness between her and her husband? he -asked himself, as he looked after the graceful figure with its pale -draperies, and the crown of dark hair, insecurely fastened, as it -appeared, with a high Spanish comb. -</p> - -<p> -“What can it be?” he wondered as he returned slowly to his place, -remembering the obvious wrath and disquiet with which Richard Ambrose -had asked for leave to Bombay on urgent private affairs, and the -embarrassment with which he had requested permission to bring his wife -back with him if necessary. “Quite a suitable age for Ambrose—I was -afraid he might have got caught by a schoolgirl; and must have been -uncommonly pretty a few years ago—is so now, indeed. Most elegant -woman, and very agreeable—really charming manners—and fond of -him——” -</p> - -<p> -It had all passed through his mind while he turned from the door and -the servants were withdrawing noiselessly, and in his impulsive way he -stopped and laid his hand on Ambrose’s shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -“You and I are old friends, my boy—let me say one word. I don’t know -what tales you may have heard when you rushed off to Bombay, but -believe me, they were lies. Your wife is a good woman—if ever I have -met one—and she adores you.” -</p> - -<p> -Ambrose laughed, not very pleasantly. “You are agitating yourself -unnecessarily,” with some stiffness. “I am quite aware my wife adores -me—worse luck! I mean she makes me a laughing-stock in company,” he -added hastily. -</p> - -<p> -“Many a man would give a good deal to be made a laughing-stock in that -way,” a little sternly. “But why, then——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Money, my good sir—nothing but money! She was ruining me. I swear to -you, I should have been broke in another year of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“The ladies must always be buying pretty clothes, bless ’em! And a -fine creature like that——! But if you explained——” -</p> - -<p> -“It was not clothes,” resentfully. “The difficulty with Mrs Ambrose is -to induce her to wear clothes suited to her position. But what do you -say to her paying the debts of the young scamp of a brother she -mentioned, who is playing the fool with the best in an Irish -regiment?” -</p> - -<p> -“That I should have a word to say to the brother before visiting his -sins on the sister.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should like you to try it, and see how much Mrs Ambrose would allow -you to say! And what do you think of her rebuilding the stables of the -bungalow—a hired bungalow, mind you—I took for her? and saying that -in Ireland they kept the horses warm and dry, however poorly they -themselves were lodged?” -</p> - -<p> -“An amiable weakness, surely?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mere childishness, believe me. She has no more idea of the value of -money than an infant in arms! When it’s there she spends it, and when -it ain’t she writes chits! She would buy anything—a mangy starved -pony, and vow it was an Arab, if you please!” -</p> - -<p> -“And it was a common bazar tat?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” reluctantly, “now that the beast’s bones ain’t coming through -its skin, there’s a look of blood about it, I admit. But——” -</p> - -<p> -“Trust an Irishwoman’s eye for a horse! But seriously, my dear fellow, -to what better use can you put your money than allow your goodwife to -make herself happy by spending it? I know if mine would do me the -honour——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, it’s the other way with you, I know. But for Mrs Bayard’s -prudence, you would leave Khemistan a poorer man than you entered it.” -</p> - -<p> -“She would tell you it will be so in any case,” said Colonel Bayard -ruefully. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch02"> -CHAPTER II.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE RIFT IN THE LUTE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">But</span> if a difference about money was the immediate cause of the -strained relations between Major Ambrose and his wife, no one would -have denied more vehemently than Eveleen herself that it was the -beginning of their estrangement. That had happened long ago—even, so -she sometimes thought, before their marriage. This might seem an Irish -way of putting it, but at times she would tell herself that she must -have been blind not to see there was something wrong with Richard -then, though again the idea would look absolutely absurd. For why -should he have married her unless he wanted her as she did him? She -would never have lifted a finger to hold him had he wished to be free! -She raged against him a little now as she stood solitary in the middle -of the absent Mrs Bayard’s drawing-room, seeing nothing of her -surroundings. If he must be sarcastic and cross, why try to humiliate -her in the presence of a stranger, instead of keeping his horrid -remarks till they were alone together, and she could answer them as -they deserved? There was little of the patient Griselda about Eveleen -Ambrose. -</p> - -<p> -“Such an English room!” Her wrath was suddenly diverted—though rather -to the general atmosphere of bleak tidiness than to poor Mrs Bayard’s -treasured “Europe” furniture—and she shuddered. “Sure I’ll choke -here!” She fled to the verandah. “Ah, now!” and she stood spellbound -by the wonderful moonlight shining on a limitless sea that washed the -very hill-top on which the house stood. A moment’s reflection assured -her that the sea was a thick mist enshrouding the town and the -low-lying land about it, and hiding the mud and dust and crudeness -which had been so painfully evident by day, and she dropped into a -chair to watch it, for there were little eddies which looked exactly -like moving water. She had not meant to stay in the drawing-room; her -intention had been to slip away to bed, leaving an excuse with the -servants for her host’s benefit, but it was so peaceful here, and she -needed a little mental refreshment before coping once more with Ketty. -But her meditations hardly brought her the peace she desired, for -almost at once she was involved again in the perpetual quest of When? -and How? and Why? -</p> - -<p> -It was twenty years since Richard Ambrose and Eveleen Delany had first -met in the hunting-field—and parted almost as soon. She was a pretty -girl riding as daringly as the conventions of the time and a fierce -old uncle would allow her, he one of the junior officers of the -regiment quartered in the neighbourhood. Two or three days’ hunting, a -scrambled meal or two taken in common, sandwiches shared in the -shelter of a deep lane—Richard’s fingers had actually trembled so -that he could scarcely untie the string, she remembered,—such a brief -and broken acquaintance to change the whole course of one life, if not -two! He had nothing but his pay and his debts, she was an orphan -adopted into an already overflowing and impoverished household in a -spirit of mingled improvidence and charity. To do him justice, Richard -had no hope of being allowed to marry her then, but he would pay his -debts with the sale of his commission, and transfer to the Indian -Service, and come or send for her as soon as he could see his way -clear. Had he been an Irishman the engagement might have been allowed, -but old General Delany discerned a calculating and parsimonious spirit -in his anxious planning, and sent him about his business with slight -sympathy. To this day Eveleen could not think calmly of their parting. -Something of the old agony shook her again as she heard her own -voice—hoarse with the strain of trying to speak bravely for her -lover’s sake—assuring him again and again that she would wait any -length of time, five years, a hundred years, for ever, for him to -return and claim her. He had sworn to come back, sworn that her image -would be ever before his eyes until that blessed moment arrived; had -sobbed—Richard Ambrose sobbing!—as he tore him self away when they -kissed for the last time. Thus they parted—the boy setting his face -resolutely eastwards, with the safeguard of a high purpose in his -soul, the girl taking up the harder task of doing nothing in -particular. -</p> - -<p> -Those many, many years of waiting! Eveleen could not look back on them -dispassionately even now. She was again the girl who watched -feverishly for the ramshackle “ass’s cart” which conveyed the rural -post-woman on her rounds, who manœuvred for the privilege of asking -for letters at the post-office when the family drove into town. And -there never were any letters. Deeply in love as he was, Richard -Ambrose had been cut to the quick by General Delany’s contemptuous -dismissal, and registered a vow that he would never return until he -could confront the old man with abundant proof that he could keep -Eveleen in proper comfort. That time did not come. Things were -bitterly hard for the Company’s Army in time of peace. Its officers -were the unfailing victims of the constant demands from home for -economy and retrenchment, until no man remained with his regiment who -had influence to obtain civil employ. Richard Ambrose was uniformly -unfortunate. He had no influence, and a malign fate seemed to shut him -out of the little wars of the period—often lucrative enough. Once he -had been mauled out tiger shooting, and was in hospital; once, after -several unusually obstinate bouts of fever, he was an invalid in -Australia. But his was not one of the crack regiments, and the greater -part of his time was spent in one dull station or another, doing the -work of two or three seconded men as well as his own. Faithful alike -to his self-imposed vow and to General Delany’s commands, he never -wrote to Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen gave no sign of resenting his silence. When she refused one or -two good matches, her relatives were loud in scorn of her folly, but -by-and-by they arrived at the comfortable conviction that all was for -the best. Her cousins were marrying off or setting up homes of their -own, and the General was becoming increasingly difficult to live with. -It was really providential that the niece who owed him so much should -be available to ride with him, to keep house for him in the scrambling -style from which neither of them dreamed of departing, and in the long -evenings to take a hand at whist if other players were available, join -him in chess or backgammon if they were not, and at all times turn -away his wrath with cheerful—if not invariably soft—answers. If her -recompense seemed inadequate, there was Brian to be thought of—the -young brother for whose sake Eveleen would sometimes even attempt that -hardest of all tasks, saving money. “I would rob the mail for Brian!” -she declared once defiantly to her uncle, and thanks to her unceasing -efforts, Brian was given—and, urged tearfully by her, submitted to -receive—some sort of education, sufficient at any rate to enable him -to take advantage of the offer of an old comrade of the General’s to -attach him to his staff as a Volunteer, until he could obtain a -commission. It was a difficult business to supply the young -gentleman’s needs while he was expected to live as an officer on the -pay of a private, and the habits he picked up on the staff were not -exactly such as would conduce to his efficiency in a marching -regiment, but the day she first saw her boy in the uniform of the -990th Foot, Eveleen felt she could die happy. -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps the attainment of this ardent desire made her feel more like -Brian’s mother or aunt than his sister, but it was about this time -that Eveleen became aware she was growing old. Not in mind—she was -one of those who, far from growing old, never even really grow up—nor -in body, for she could last out a long day with the hounds as well as -most men, and skin and hair and eyes showed slight trace of the -process of time, but in the estimation of her little world. Nowadays -she would have been considered a girl still, but in her day to pass -the thirtieth birthday unmarried was to be stamped irrevocably as an -old maid, and she had done this five years ago. Other girls were -coming forward—real girls—and she found herself confronted with the -choice of ceding her place to them or holding it by mingled assurance -and main force, becoming in course of time “Old Miss Evie”—one of -those determined middle aged sportswomen whom English people regarded -as an eccentric and scandalous feature of Irish hunts. Eveleen laughed -and withdrew. Her choice was made easier by the complication of -diseases and old wounds which incapacitated the General, for ladies -did not hunt without male escort, and she would not tack herself to -any of his friends; but it was a bitter moment. Nor was it made easier -by the discovery that she was becoming an object of suspicion—or at -least mistrust—to her cousins and her cousins’ wives. To them, as to -all their class, money as money was nothing, but family possessions -were something to be clutched and held by fair means or foul. The idea -that Eveleen might be providing for herself—or her uncle providing -for her—at their future expense worked like poison in their brains, -leading them to lay ingenious conversational traps in the hope of -surprising the admission that the General had added a codicil to his -will, and to conduct furtive searches for household treasures which -they imagined to have disappeared. It was inevitable that when Eveleen -realised what was in their minds, she should resent it violently, and -for a whole day such a battle-royal raged as was spoken of with -respect among the servants ever after. Alone against the cousinhood, -she held her ground victoriously, swearing to leave the house there -and then unless all imputations were withdrawn and an ample apology -offered. Where she could have gone she knew no more than her cousins, -but she would have done it; and they realised the fact, and having no -desire to take up her burden, listened to the moderating counsels of -brothers and husbands, hovering in the background with insistent -murmurs of “Ah, well, then——” and “Sure, the creature——” But her -future was still a cause for anxiety, if not for suspicion. “Sure I -see ‘What’ll we do with poor Evie?’ in every eye that looks at me!” -she said once. -</p> - -<p> -And then Richard Ambrose came back. He had found his opportunity at -last. The Ethiopian adventure, which was the grave of so many -reputations, made his. He went into it an undistinguished captain, and -he came out a major and a C.B., whose resolute defence early in the -war of an all-important post on the line of communications had even -been heard of at home. He was wounded—but the present generation -would have hailed his wound as a “Blighty one”; it was just -sufficiently severe to induce the surgeons to advise a voyage home and -back before he took up the new post of Assistant Resident in Khemistan -which Colonel Bayard promised to keep open for him. Eveleen could -never quite decide whether she had been expecting him to return or -not. So many years had passed, and he had never sent her word or sign. -But one morning, as she sat in her saddle at the covert-side, a little -removed from the throng of cheery riders, watching the meet in which -she no longer took part, one figure detached itself from the rest. A -gentleman dismounted, and throwing the bridle to his servant, -approached her—a tall bronzed man, wearing the frogged blue coat -which was the recognised dress of officers in mufti, or as they called -it, “coloured clothes.” He raised his hat, and the years fell from -Eveleen. She was the girl of seventeen again, glowing with youth. -</p> - -<p> -“You have waited for me, Eveleen?” he asked, without any conventional -greeting, and she dropped the reins on her horse’s neck and held out -both hands to him. -</p> - -<p> -“All these years. Ah, but I knew you’d come!” she answered. For that -moment, at least, she had no doubt. Richard had justified himself, had -come back, famous and successful, to the woman whose welcome would -have been no less warm had he been broken and penniless, and to that -woman earth was heaven from henceforth. That the Richard who had come -back would not be the Richard who had gone forth was unlikely to occur -to her at that moment, or to commend itself to her belief when it did -occur. She had not changed; why should he? -</p> - -<p> -Everything was so natural, so simple. Richard never even asked her -again to marry him. Why should he? he had come back for nothing else. -It was necessary to ask the General for her, of course, and the -General resented the request so vehemently that all his children and -their respective husbands and wives had to be summoned to bear down -his opposition by sheer weight of eloquence. Such ingenuity was -displayed in devising schemes for his future, such amazement lavished -on his selfishness in wishing to retain poor Evie, who had given -herself up to him for so long, that he was dinned at last into -acquiescence. He gave his consent with tolerable grace, and presented -his niece with the turquoise disc, which had come into his possession -after the fall of Seringapatam. It was too large even for Early -Victorian taste, which liked its jewellery to be of substantial size, -but the daughters and daughters-in-law agreed that it was a very -handsome present, and most appropriate, as Evie was going to India. -Unfortunately, the first time she wished to wear it at Bombay she -learned that to wear Indian ornaments in India was to incur -irretrievably the stigma of being “country-born,” but the cousins did -not know this. Some sort of outfit was got together for her, the -cousinhood eking out an impossibly small sum of money with great -goodwill and much contrivance, that she not disgrace the family; but -the bride herself would have sailed for India cheerfully with what one -plain-spoken “in-law” called cruelly her usual ragbag of clothes. -</p> - -<p> -Had the shadow fallen even then? Eveleen asked herself the question -this evening, as often before. One night—it was at a dance—she had -surprised on Richard’s face, as he met her in a blaze of wax-lights, a -look in which she read cold criticism, even dislike. It struck her to -the heart, stripping her in one moment of her new found youth and joy. -They thought she was going to faint, and it was Richard himself, all -compunction and anxiety, who took her out and fussed about her with -water and borrowed smelling-salts and a glass of wine; and when she -sobbed out something of her sudden terror, admitted that his wound had -been paining him horribly all day, and cursed himself for spoiling her -evening by letting her see that he was suffering. He refused angrily -to let her sit out the dances with him, and happy and satisfied, she -entered the ballroom again on his arm, never dreaming of doubting his -assurance. But now the doubts had crept in once more, and refused to -be silenced. -</p> - -<p> -If the shadow had not been there before, it had certainly made itself -felt on the voyage. Eveleen was not shy—she did not know what shyness -was,—and in the intervals of sea-sickness she enjoyed herself like a -schoolgirl. She bobbed up and down like a cork; nothing could keep her -under the weather long—such was the admiring dictum of one of the -youths drawn to her by her delight in new experiences, and the -unfailing gusto with which she found interest and excitement in things -which other people considered deadly dull. The rest of the ladies on -board eyed her askance. There was something not quite ladylike about -“that Mrs Ambrose”; one did not wish to be uncharitable, but really -one was almost afraid she might be called just a little bit fast. No -one was more surprised both by her popularity and her unpopularity -than her husband, and he resented both—or rather, the personality -which was their common root. That, without any effort on her part, his -wife could keep every one within sound of her voice amused and -interested, gave him no pleasure—it was as though a modest violet had -turned into a flaunting poppy on his hands. He had had little to do -with women in his hard life, but the few ladies with whom he had come -in contact did not trouble themselves to amuse the men around; they -left it to the men to amuse them. Richard Ambrose had never been -particularly successful in this respect, but he felt the attitude was -the right one. As Eveleen told herself bitterly one day on catching -sight of his disapproving face on the outskirts of the circle which -her hunting stories had set in a roar, it really seemed that the only -person who didn’t like Mrs Ambrose was Mrs Ambrose’s husband! -</p> - -<p> -Far worse was the trouble that arose at Bombay. Eveleen had naturally -taken it for granted that she would accompany her husband to the scene -of his duties, but he told her curtly that Khemistan was not a place -to which one could take ladies, and not knowing that Mrs Bayard was -heroically attempting to defy the dangers of the climate, she accepted -his dictum perforce. With Richard’s old butler to guide her -inexperienced feet, she found herself established in a small hired -bungalow—its ramshackle condition and shabby furniture made it feel -really homelike,—mistress of what seemed to her huge sums of money, -and pledged to keep accounts strictly. The result was what might have -been expected. It was all very well for Ambrose to impress upon her -that, apart from his political appointment, which might come to an end -at any moment, he was still a poor man; her conception of poverty -differed radically from his. He had inured himself to living on rice -and <i>chapatis</i> in his comfortless bungalow—dinner at mess the one -good meal of the day—that he might pay the subscriptions expected of -him, and maintain a creditable appearance in public. The people of -Eveleen’s world had cared nothing whatever about appearances, but had -lived in a rude plenty, supported by contributions in kind from -tenants whose rents were paid or not as the fancy took them—generally -not. To Richard money was a regular institution, to be doled out with -punctual care according to a plan carefully considered and rigidly -fixed beforehand; to her it was a surprising windfall, affording -delicious opportunities for the almost unknown joy of spending, and to -be used accordingly. Her efforts at keeping accounts shared the fate -of poor Dora Copperfield’s. The entries began by being rigorously -minute, but they ceased with startling suddenness, unless the butler’s -demands sent Eveleen flying to the book in horror, to put down what -she could remember spending—which was very little in comparison with -what she had spent. The extraordinary thing was that in these spasms -of economy—which occurred periodically—she could find so dreadfully -little to show for the vanished money. She might declare proudly that -she had not bought a single thing for herself, and it was true, but -the money was gone—how, she could not say. She was popular and -hospitable, her possessions were all at the service of her friends and -her friends’ servants, and her modest stable was a constant source of -expense—even before she lit upon the half-starved, under-sized little -Arab which she rescued from cruel treatment and named Bajazet because -it sounded Eastern and imposing, and reconstructed her outbuildings to -accommodate him properly. Then there was Brian, who was quartered at -Poonah, and being a youth of keen affections, seized every opportunity -of taking a little jaunt to Bombay to see his sister, who welcomed him -on each occasion as if he were the Prodigal Son. Brian must be fed on -the fat of the land—Eveleen had a wholly unjustified conviction that -“sure the poor boys must be starved, without a woman to see after -them,”—and his ever-recurring money troubles assuaged as far as -possible. To do her justice—perhaps love made her clear-sighted, or -in this one case she was able to see through Richard’s eyes—Eveleen -did realise the danger of Brian’s living regularly beyond his income, -and lecture him on the absolute need of pulling up. Brian listened -meekly, promised to comply, accepted with almost tearful gratitude -whatever his sister could scrape together to placate his most pressing -creditors—and returned to duty, as often as not, to spend the money -on something else. -</p> - -<p> -Richard Ambrose was not left wholly ignorant of the Rake’s Progress on -which his wife was embarked. Laborious epistles from the old butler -betrayed anxiety lest Master’s interests should suffer, and friends -coming up from Bombay brought amusing tales—amusing to them, that -is—of Mrs Ambrose’s open-handedness. An opportune cholera scare -enabled Ambrose to issue an edict of temporary banishment from the -scene of temptation. Eveleen was to go up to Mahabuleshwar with the -wife of one of her husband’s friends, to whom she was to pay a fixed -sum monthly, and rusticate for awhile away from shops and -entertainments. But temptation followed her even to the hills, though -in a different guise. The place was the recognised summer headquarters -of the Bombay Government, and the wife and daughters of the -newly-arrived Commander-in-Chief were already in residence. To them -came on flying visits Sir Henry Lennox himself, best loved and best -hated of all the survivors of the Peninsula. Lady Lennox was what -Eveleen characteristically called “aggressively motionless,” and her -step-daughters were being painfully trained to follow in her decorous -footsteps; but the veteran himself had a most appreciative eye for a -pretty woman, and a ready enthusiasm for one who dared to ride -wherever he did. Brian had wheedled a gullible commanding officer out -of a week’s leave to see Eveleen comfortably settled, and the brother -and sister and the scarred old soldier forgathered by some mysterious -affinity, without any conventional presentation or introduction. The -scandalised Military Secretary reported to the distressed Lady Lennox -that it was all the fault of the Irish lady and her brother; but Lady -Lennox—hearing hourly of break-neck gallops and impossible -leaps—confessed in her heart of hearts that her susceptible warrior -was in all probability just as much to blame. Her alarm extended -merely to what Sir Harry was wont to call his “battered old carcass,” -for he was too chivalrous an admirer of women in general to offer -compromising attentions to one in particular. Imprudent he might be, -but his imprudence confined itself to regaling Eveleen with scraps of -autobiography of a startling character and moral deductions drawn from -them, together with lurid denunciations of such of his many enemies as -suggested themselves to his mind at the moment. -</p> - -<p> -They became so friendly that Eveleen was emboldened at last to confess -her anxiety about Brian, and ask the Commander-in-Chief’s advice. -Brian was with his regiment again, and his last letter from Poonah had -shown his sister that he was still taking his usual light-hearted way, -undeterred by her exhortations. She did more than ask Sir Harry’s -advice; in all innocence she did a thing of which she failed -altogether to realise the heinousness. Remembering Brian’s past Staff -experience, she asked the Commander-in-Chief to make him one of his -aides-de-camp. Since that day she had heard such things talked of, and -the recollection made her cheeks burn in her solitude to-night, but at -the moment it seemed a perfectly natural thing to do. It was obvious -that Brian could not or would not live within his means in the -regiment, and that neither public opinion there nor the influence of -his commanding officer tended to urge him to do so; therefore what -could be better for him than to pass his days under the eye of the -stern economist whose worn blue uniform did not put to shame even -Eveleen’s ancient habit? Sir Harry seemed a little taken aback at -first—unaccountably, she thought, but she realised now that he had -probably never been asked for a highly desirable appointment so simply -and directly before. But he respected Eveleen, and he liked the -careless, good-natured young fellow about whom she was so anxious—and -with good reason, as a few short sharp questions assured him. Then he -gave his answer. If Brian could liquidate his debts and present -himself before him as a free man three months hence, when it was -possible an additional aide-de-camp might be required, he should have -the post. -</p> - -<p> -Probably the last thought in Sir Harry’s mind was the first that -occurred to Eveleen. Brian must realise his assets, and she would -supply any deficiency. If Brian had never gone into his affairs -thoroughly before, he did it the next time he saw his sister, when the -details of what he could sell and which of his possessions could be -returned to the vendors in lieu of paying for them were remorselessly -threshed out. Eveleen declared that if it turned both their hairs grey -they would do it, and rewarded him at the end with the sum which was -to set him free—and incidentally to bring Richard Ambrose rushing -down from Khemistan as fast as the primitive Bab-us-Sahel steamer -could bring him, drawn by the alarming report of his Bombay agent. It -was too late to reclaim the money—save at the cost of exposing Brian -to the Commander-in-Chief, which Eveleen’s tears and entreaties -withheld her husband from doing,—but Brian received by letter a few -home truths, which he took, until he had time to think them over, in -very bad part, though Richard felt he had been criminally lenient. It -was Eveleen on whom the chief punishment fell—at least, her husband -regarded it as a punishment. She had to face the ordeal she had -imposed upon Brian, when all the unpaid bills, the empty pages of the -account book, the chits so easily signed and forgotten, were brought -to light. It had never occurred to her that there was anything wrong -in being in debt—she had grown up in an atmosphere of it,—and she -was half alarmed and half resentful when she saw the effect of his -discoveries upon Richard. But the breaking-up of the Bombay household, -and her removal to Khemistan, where she would have no opportunity for -extravagance, did not strike her as a punishment at all, and it made -her indignant that her husband should so regard it. The one thing she -feared was that he should learn the secret of Brian’s sudden -elevation—which he ascribed carelessly to an idle whim on the part of -a man too old for his high post,—and while that remained unknown she -was happy. -</p> - -<p> -“Brian’s in good hands now, at any rate, and safe,” she said to -herself as she took a last look at the sea of mist, knowing nothing of -a distracted letter which was already on its way to her from Poonah; -“and what’s more, I’m here with Ambrose.” The two men in the -dining-room were moving, but it was so late they would not expect to -find her still up, and she slipped noiselessly along the verandah to -her own room. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch03"> -CHAPTER III.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">COLONEL BAYARD’S BURDEN.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> famous city of Qadirabad, the seat of such government as -Khemistan possessed, was not reached from Bab-us-Sahel without -difficulty. There was a ride across the desert first, which was so -much to Eveleen’s taste that she begged they might go the whole way by -land. But there was no camping equipment available, and Khemistan was -destitute of rest-houses, and there at the Bunder lay the steamer, -booked to make the journey in four days—what more could reasonable -woman desire? But Colonel Bayard had been right in saying that if the -steamers plying between Bombay and Bab-us-Sahel were small and -uncomfortable, those on the river were worse. Owing to her light -draught, the passenger accommodation of the <i>Asteroid</i> was limited to -a single cabin, the berths in which—so a friendly subaltern confided -to Mrs Ambrose—were constructed of a wood specially selected for its -hardness. Had not Colonel Bayard come to the rescue by having a tent -pitched for her on deck, Eveleen must have turned every one else out, -and as it was, she felt guilty of grievously restricting the space -available for exercise. The salient characteristic of the scenes -through which they passed—as of all else that she had yet encountered -in Khemistan—was mud. Sometimes they were steaming through a country -so absolutely level that there seemed no reason why the river should -remain where it was instead of overflowing on either side—and -derelict channels and stretches of marsh showed that the river itself -was of the same mind. More often they found themselves passing between -banks of mud which formed a kind of natural aqueduct, confining the -river in a course high above the general level of the country, and the -wash of the steamer caused portions of these banks to dissolve and -slide gently into the water. Sometimes one bank was high and the other -low—looking for all the world as though the river were being softly -tilted sideways to allow the water to run off, and in this case the -higher bank was generally wooded, with tall spindly trees above and a -mass of dense undergrowth below. These woods were the famous -<i>shikargahs</i> of the Khans—their hunting paradises, formed -artificially like the New Forest, and by similar methods, as the many -remains of ruined and deserted villages showed. They were strictly -preserved, and such villages as still existed were at a discreet -distance from them—dismal collections of mud-heaps surrounded by a -network of irrigation canals. The canals were shockingly kept up, but -the crops were wonderful, and Colonel Bayard pointed out to Eveleen -the obvious fertility of the soil, giving so much in return for so -little. He sighed as he remarked that under a civilised government the -whole land might be a garden, and then changed the subject by telling -her droll anecdotes of his friends the Khans. -</p> - -<p> -Despite the waste of a good deal of powder and shot on various -crocodiles and aquatic birds—which invariably escaped unscathed—the -four days passed in such hot and confined quarters were long and -wearisome, and the passengers beheld joyfully the palms and greenery -which marked the approach to Qadirabad. The place was surrounded by a -belt of gardens, above which, as the steamer rounded a bend of the -river, rose in the distance a vast battlemented wall and great round -tower, bearing an absurd resemblance to Windsor Castle. This was the -Fort—or rather, fortress—palace of the Khans, dominating the city -proper, but the British Agency was closer at hand, in a garden -overhanging the river. It was a settlement rather than a house, for -besides the large block of buildings erected by Colonel Bayard—in -which the humorous detected a resemblance to a champagne-case set on -end, its divisions represented by the arches of the several tiers of -verandahs—some of his subordinates had built bungalows for -themselves, and the native servants and hangers-on had a village of -their own. There were quarters for the guards, a bazar, gardens and -orchards, and the whole was surrounded by a wall some five feet high, -of the usual mud-brick. Eveleen was astonished by the size of the -community, for the work of the Agency required the services of a large -number of resident Europeans, while there were fifty or sixty more, -employed at Sahar or other places higher up the river, who made it -their headquarters on occasion. Some of the local white men were -married, but mostly to country-born women, so that Eveleen was -unquestionably the Burree Beebee. Had her claims needed support, it -would have been supplied by the chivalry of Colonel Bayard, who -insisted that the Ambroses should take up their quarters in his own -house, and consider him as their guest while he was there. For the -next few months, he said, he would be little in Qadirabad, as duty -called him up the river, to look after the supply arrangements for the -British forces returning—or more literally retreating—from Ethiopia, -and he was sure his wife would like to think the rooms he had prepared -for her were in the occupation of his friends. As Richard Ambrose -acted as Resident in his chief’s absence, the arrangement seemed -natural, but Eveleen had qualms when she saw the elaborate and -expensive furniture—not lest she should spoil it, but lest Mrs Bayard -should think it had not been treated with proper respect. One trial -was spared her. Almost with tears in his eyes, her husband implored -Colonel Bayard not to impose upon her the task of housekeeping on so -large a scale, and she was saved from the certainty of disgracing -herself by reducing the Resident to bankruptcy. It is true that she -considered the arrangements of the responsible secretary to be at -least as lavish as her own had been, but at any rate he was in the -habit of keeping accounts. -</p> - -<p> -It had not occurred to her that in the absence of all household duties -time might hang a little heavy on her hands. There were plenty of -people to ride with her morning and evening, but in office hours she -was the only idle person in a hive of industry. That, at least, was -her husband’s view, of which she was irreverently scornful. The native -clerks might be hard worked, but she declined to believe it of the -Europeans, who did nothing, so she declared, but sit and smoke, and -now and then sign their names to the documents that were put before -them. How much better for them to spend the pleasant hours of -mid-morning and late afternoon—which would so soon become too hot for -outdoor exercise—in healthful cross-country gallops! But the Indian -official day was far too firmly established to be overthrown by one -mutinous Irishwoman, and Eveleen had to make her own occupations. She -was training the little horse Bajazet—to the mingled amazement and -scandal of her neighbours, who pointed out unsparingly defects of form -and action which betrayed his mixed blood. He had a horror of -natives—probably due to ill-treatment in his youth—and his mistress -went through stormy scenes with half a dozen syces, dismissing one -after another before she found one who would do as he was told. This -was a meek patriarch who was content to sit by, shrouded in the -horse-blanket, while Bajazet was put through his paces and learned to -follow Eveleen about like a dog. Once he came up the verandah steps -after her, but he was ruthlessly ejected by the orders of her husband, -who vowed he would <i>not</i> have the place turned into an Irish cabin, -and she was obliged to content herself thereafter with teaching him to -ask for dainties without coming in search of them. -</p> - -<p> -The unwritten law which restricted her unescorted rides within the -limits of the Agency was naturally a challenge to the Irish mind, and -Eveleen never rested until it was abrogated in her favour. It was not -as if she wanted to go into the town, she said—who would? And indeed, -Qadirabad—for all its imposing appearance and historic renown—was a -sadly uninteresting place. Very soon after her arrival, Eveleen was -taken up to the Fort gate, to look thence down the long line of the -Grand Bazar, and obtain a general view of the city. A wilderness of -mud hovels, broken in places by the dome of a mosque or the blunted -pyramidal tower of a Hindu temple, with a two-storied house within -high walls here and there, but never a tree to relieve the monotony -until the eye hailed the grateful greenery of the encircling gardens -on the horizon—all was squalid, mean, miserable. The Bazars—famous -throughout Asia for their manufactures—seemed to have fallen upon -evil days, for such pottery and lacquered ware as was to be seen was -of the poorest, and the gold and silver work and precious stuffs of -old were hardly to be found nowadays. A reason might be discovered for -this in the bands of armed men constantly to be seen in the narrow -streets, eyeing the peaceable craftsmen as inferior beings permitted -to exist in order to minister to the needs of their superiors, but by -no means to lay up wealth for themselves. The Khans were not Khemis by -race. A century ago they had come from Arabitistan, across the -mountains to the north-west, swooping down resistlessly upon a people -“quiet and secure” and practically defenceless. They had parcelled out -the country among their rude retainers, who remained as feudal chiefs, -and Khans and Sardars alike drew upon the inexhaustible reservoir of -Arabitistan for warriors of their own race to maintain and extend -their dominion. Without this continual reinforcement, the soft life of -the plains and inter-marriage with the conquered people might have -enfeebled the ruling caste, but with fresh hordes of wild Arabit -horsemen to be summoned at need, they remained a power to be -respected—if not particularly respectable. With tulwar and shield and -lance, the wild men swaggered where they would, responsible only to -the Khans—and not always very amenable to them—and caring nothing -for anybody else. Eveleen admired their showy little active horses, -the ease and grace of the riders, and the bright silks and embroidered -shawls of their apparel, but she had sense enough to realise that they -were not people it would be desirable to meet if she were riding -alone. -</p> - -<p> -But if the town was barred, the garden-belt outside it was surely a -very different thing. The Arabit horsemen were seldom to be found in -the neighbourhood of the Agency—unless one of the Khans should happen -to be paying a state visit to Colonel Bayard—and the country was -fairly open. What danger could there be for Eveleen if she did not go -too far away, respected <i>shikargahs</i>, and avoided growing crops? Yes, -she would take a mounted orderly—it would only be like a groom—but -not—oh, please not!—an escort of the irregular force known as the -Khemistan Horse, which had been enrolled as the Resident’s guard. How -could she ride at her ease if she had always to tag about with an army -behind her? Playing the part of the Importunate Widow, she succeeded -at last in imposing her will on Colonel Bayard, and that unfortunate -man, most unfairly cast for the part of the Unjust Judge, found that -he had carefully cultivated a thorn for his own side. -</p> - -<p> -He was in his office one day, discussing weightily with Richard -Ambrose the various matters of importance which might arise during his -absence, when sounds of dispute outside interrupted their -deliberations. Some one was demanding to be allowed to enter, and was -being respectfully but firmly repulsed by the scandalised -attendants—and the voice left no doubt who the intruder was. -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose, as I live!” exclaimed Mrs Ambrose’s husband in -unflattering disgust. “What bee has she got in her bonnet now? Excuse -me one moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose appears to wish to see me,” said Colonel Bayard, with his -unfailing kindness. “We can’t let an English lady be turned away by -the <i>chobdars</i>. Come! Good morning, ma’am; is there something you want -me to do for you? Good heavens! what has happened? Has any one -dared——?” for Eveleen’s face was flushed and tearful, and her lips -trembled too much to speak. She wrung her hands together wildly. -</p> - -<p> -“Murder—a woman!” it was a kind of hoarse scream. -</p> - -<p> -“You have been attacked? No?” as his eye ran quickly over her -speckless habit. “What is it, then? Sit down and tell us about it.” He -led her to a chair, and waved the attendants away. “You have had a -shock? A glass of wine!” he signed to a waiting servant. “Now let us -hear what it is.” -</p> - -<p> -“Compose yourself, for Heaven’s sake!” growled Richard Ambrose—not -encouragingly, but the harsh tone proved more effectual than the -Resident’s kindness in enabling Eveleen to pull herself together. With -her fingers tightly pressed against one another she sat upright and -spoke jerkily. -</p> - -<p> -“’Twas a poor woman—just a bit of a girl. Her father and her husband -had quarrelled. The horrid wretch—the husband, I mean—went straight -home—and called her out. The creature came—and stood before him -trembling. He took hold of her hair—her beautiful long hair—and -twisted it—into a rope—and <i>strangled</i> her with it—her own -hair——” Her voice rose into a scream again. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, yes—very distressing,” Colonel Bayard patted her hand kindly. -“These things will happen here, we know, but you are new to them. And -you were passing, and saw it done?” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Saw</i> it?” she cried furiously. “D’ye think I would not have broke my -whip over the brute’s head, and poked his eyes out with the bits -after? No, I was passing, and heard the old women keening—her mother -and her mother-in-law—and I went in there and saw—her poor face—and -her hair—— And I made the syce ask them about it, and they told me, -and I came straight back to you at once, that you might get the wretch -found out and punished!” -</p> - -<p> -“But, my dear lady, where do you think he is?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, in hiding, of course!” in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it! A man don’t go into hiding in Khemistan for little -accidents like that. I dare be bound the fellow is now boasting to his -friends of the revenge he has taken on his father-in-law, and every -one of ’em is sympathising with him. That’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“But d’ye mean nothing will be done?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing whatever.” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean you will do nothing?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, what could I do? Killing is no murder here, -where a woman is concerned.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it ought to be. You could go to the chief Khan——” -</p> - -<p> -“He would merely laugh at me. ‘Murder, you say, sahib? Who was killed? -A <i>woman</i>? and the man’s <i>wife</i>? and he was angry with her father? -Why, of course he killed her. It was the natural thing to do.’ And -that’s precisely what it is—in Khemistan.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you let them go on like this? You say nothing——” -</p> - -<p> -“What could I say? And what good would it do? It ain’t as though the -poor creature were alive, and I could save her by intervening. It’s -too late—unfortunately.” -</p> - -<p> -He added the last word in deference to the stormy look in Eveleen’s -eyes as she rose from her chair, knocking down the untasted glass of -wine at her elbow. -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t say any more. I see how it is—perfectly. If Ambrose -killed me, ’twould merely be, ‘Only a woman—only his wife—and he was -angry with <i>her</i>—and it served her right!’” defiantly. -</p> - -<p> -“If Ambrose killed you, I would hang him with my own hands, and you -know it very well!” said Colonel Bayard, between jest and earnest. -Then his tone changed. “But you have no right even to associate such a -thought with your husband, Mrs Ambrose. It is abominably unfair to -him, and only to be excused because you are a little unstrung at this -moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Just look at his face, then!” cried Eveleen recklessly. “Is there -black murder in it, or is there not, I ask you?” and she -departed—leaving two discomfited men behind her—to cry her eyes out -in her own room, until her husband, really alarmed, insisted on a -visit from the doctor, and—so near is bathos to tragedy!—the -administration of a composing draught. -</p> - -<p> -That incident was closed. Eveleen made numberless irrevocable -resolutions that never, no, never! in any circumstances whatever would -she attempt to appeal again to the compassion, or even the sense of -justice, of those two stony-hearted men—but evidently she was one of -the people to whom things are bound to happen. Colonel Bayard had gone -to pay his farewell visit to the Khans, attended by Richard Ambrose -and other subordinates, and preceded by <i>chobdars</i> bearing silver -sticks and similar insignia of dignity, when the remaining occupants -of the Residency became aware that Mrs Ambrose had another row on -hand. They guessed it when she returned from her ride at a tearing -gallop—the syce left behind somewhere on the horizon—and dashed up -to the office verandah, demanding eagerly to see the Resident Sahib. -It was clear she had forgotten all about his absence, for those who -were peering at her through the tatties reported that she made a -gesture of despair, and mounting again, rode round to her own quarters -with a slow hopelessness very different from the ardour with which she -had ridden in. She sent her horse away, but stayed walking up and down -the verandah without going to change her habit, her sun hat thrown -aside. The two men whose rooms were on the opposite side of the -courtyard could see the white figure passing and repassing across the -dark space left by the updrawn blind. Sometimes she came to the steps -to call a servant, and sent him on some errand—evidently to see -whether the Resident had returned without her hearing him, but in -vain. -</p> - -<p> -“If that woman tramps up and down much more, she’ll drive me -distracted. What’s the matter with her?” demanded one of the watchers -irritably at last. -</p> - -<p> -“Couldn’t say,” was the laconic reply of his companion. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you might risk a guess, anyhow. Tell you what, I’m going to -see. Are you game to come too?” -</p> - -<p> -The other reflected. “I suppose Ambrose ain’t likely to consider it an -intrusion?” -</p> - -<p> -Captain Crosse characterised Scottish caution in unsuitable language. -“I always knew Ambrose would make trouble by bringing his wife up -here, but since he has brought her, one can’t in common humanity leave -the unfortunate creature to walk her feet off for want of some one to -help her. I’m going, and you have got to come too. Here goes!” -</p> - -<p> -They went across to the Ambroses’ verandah, and Eveleen turned a -despairing face upon them at the sound of Captain Crosse’s hesitating -greeting, “Can we do anything, Mrs Ambrose? We were afraid something -must be wrong.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure I don’t know what to do!” she burst forth. “I’m in the most -frightful trouble. Do come in, the two of you, and tell me is there -anything you can do. But I don’t believe anybody but the Resident will -be any good, and it seems as if he’d never be back!” -</p> - -<p> -“Sit down and tell us about it, ma’am,” urged Captain Crosse, while -the young Scotchman pulled a chair forward. “To fret yourself into a -fever will do nobody any good, and be precious uncomfortable for you.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen hesitated, pushed back the damp hair from her temples, and -dropped into the chair. “It’s because there’s no time,” she said -despairingly. “Colonel Bayard said it was too late before, because the -poor creature was dead, but this time she could be saved, only there’s -no one to do it—— I suppose,” with reviving energy, “you wouldn’t -come with me and rescue her?” -</p> - -<p> -A glance had passed between the two men over her head, and now, as she -sat up eagerly and grasped the arms of the chair preparatory to -rising, Lieutenant Haigh said, with discouraging slowness, “But who is -it you want to rescue, Mrs Ambrose—and what from?” -</p> - -<p> -“The poor girl—child, rather. They carried her off—I saw the dust of -their horses in the distance——” -</p> - -<p> -“But who carried her off?” patiently. -</p> - -<p> -“Sure how would I know? A band of Arabit horsemen—they brought a -<i>palki</i>, and forced her in——” -</p> - -<p> -“But who was she? and where did they take her? Try and tell us exactly -what has happened.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen glanced upwards, as though in search of patience, and still -holding the chair, as if to anchor herself to it, spoke with -exaggerated deliberation. “She was a pretty little young girl—I have -often seen her; she would peep out in a shy sort of way and smile at -me. To-day she was not there, but the old father—he’s a poor sort of -fellow, that—was crying fit to break his heart and throwing dust in -the air, and the mother—that’s worth two of him—was all bleeding -where the wretches had knocked her about when she tried to hold her -daughter back, and the neighbours would all be sympathising with -them—but they ran away like mice, every one of them, when they saw -me.” -</p> - -<p> -“But who had carried her off, and whither?” repeated Sir Dugald Haigh. -He was a poverty-stricken soldier burdened with an inherited -baronetcy. -</p> - -<p> -“Sure I told you”—with some irritation. “A band of Arabit horsemen, -and they would be taking her to the Fort. The parents were -inconsolable—they said she was to have been married next week.” -</p> - -<p> -“They would be—they’ll have to return the gifts,” said Sir Dugald -drily. Then his tone changed. “Well, ma’am, that puts an end to the -business. When a girl—or a woman either, for it would have made no -difference if the marriage was a week ago instead of a week hence—is -taken to the Fort, there she stays.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen gazed at him, horror-stricken. “<i>Any</i> girl—and against her -will—and no one minds?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the way here,” curtly. -</p> - -<p> -“You see, Mrs Ambrose”—Captain Crosse took up the parable—“it ain’t -the same with these people as it is with us. The Arabits take a girl -when they want her just as they take anything that pleases ’em from a -shop in the Bazar. These women don’t mind that sort of thing—rather -like it, in fact—think it a bit of an honour, as you might say.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you had seen that poor old father and mother, you would never -believe that!” indignantly. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s just for to-day. It’ll be all right when they have got over it -a bit. A ruler always exercises this power in the East—why, just as -it was in the Bible, you know.” He spoke with increased confidence, -feeling that the thing had been set on a proper footing. “I assure you -there are thousands of these women in the Fort—place is swarming with -’em. So you see, it’s quite the right thing here.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how can it be right just because it’s always done? And I am sure -it’s not done in India.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not in our districts, of course; but believe me, in some of the -native states within our borders, not only would the girl have been -taken, but the parents would have been killed for offering resistance, -and the house set on fire—for a warning to others, you see.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see that makes it any better—horrid though it be. What is -Colonel Bayard here for if it ain’t to stop things of this sort from -happening?” -</p> - -<p> -“’Pon my word, ma’am——!” began Captain Crosse, quite taken aback, -but Lieutenant Haigh spoke slowly. -</p> - -<p> -“You are making a mistake, ma’am. The Resident is here to seek to -persuade the Khans to keep their treaties with us, so that we may be -able to leave them in the enjoyment of their authority.” -</p> - -<p> -“Authority to murder women and carry off girls? And he calls himself -an Englishman and a Christian!” -</p> - -<p> -This was high treason, but though Captain Crosse showed signs of -flight, Sir Dugald argued patiently on. “You must know yourself, Mrs -Ambrose, that there’s no better-hearted person in the world than the -Resident. But he has enough to do with his proper business, and the -Khans have no mind to make it easy for him. They choose to go on -destroying villages to extend their <i>shikargahs</i>, and plundering -traders, and intercepting the river traffic by demanding tolls, and -they do it, never caring a pin about the difficulties they are making -for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then he ought just wash his hands of them!” declared Eveleen -defiantly. “If I were in his place——” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, what is the matter?” Colonel Bayard and Richard -came up the verandah steps, to find her confronting the two men. She -looked at him stormily. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a fool I am to expect anything——!” she began, and stopped, -unable to speak. -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose was unfortunately a witness—or nearly so—of the -carrying-off of a girl to the Fort, sir,” said Sir Dugald; “and the -lamentations of the parents have affected her sadly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Positively, my dear Richard,” said Colonel Bayard, “you must not -allow Mrs Ambrose to distress herself in this way. She will make -herself ill, and our little society here will lack its brightest -ornament.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen looked at him with absolute abhorrence. “And that’s all you -have to say about it?” she demanded. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear lady, what can I say? The custom of the country permits the -rulers to recruit their zenanas in this way, and how is a stranger to -prevent it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Go to the Khans and get her back! Tell me now, what’s the use of -their calling you their father and their mother if they’ll not do what -you tell them?” -</p> - -<p> -“I fear their confidence stops short on the threshold of the zenana,” -said Colonel Bayard gravely. “But suppose, to gratify me, they -consented to the release of this girl—do you think she would choose -to be released? Nay, she would hug her chains, as you consider them, -and entreat to remain in the Fort.” -</p> - -<p> -“The worse for her, then, the wretched creature! But sure you’d have -brought the Khans to book, and shown them the law was stronger than -they are.” -</p> - -<p> -“What law? They would have been constrained by friendship, nothing -more. The English law don’t run here. The will of the ruler is the -law—at least, it comes to that.” -</p> - -<p> -“And Colonel Bayard can reconcile it with his conscience to use all -his endeavours to prop up a system under which such things can -happen!” she cried. Her husband glanced round aghast to see the effect -of this blasphemy, but the other two men had discreetly faded away, -Colonel Bayard looked at her sadly. -</p> - -<p> -“What can I say? I do my best for these people, but they will do -nothing to help me—to justify me. Yet to use force—to compel them to -virtue—would be an outrage, an iniquity. Ain’t it better for them to -govern themselves, even badly, than to be governed, however well, by -us?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” cried Eveleen suddenly, “that’s it, that’s it! You think of them -and of us—and not for one moment of the creatures they misgovern, the -women and the poor.” -</p> - -<p> -“As Heaven is my witness, I do think of them—and constantly,” he -replied, with deep solemnity. “It is my earnest hope to ameliorate -their condition by influencing the Khans—in time. But never will I be -a party to seizing more territory under the pretext of seeing justice -done.” -</p> - -<p> -“In time!” echoed Eveleen scornfully, but her husband interposed with -crushing effect. -</p> - -<p> -“That will do, my dear. The Resident will think you are an advocate of -Women’s Rights, if you don’t take care. You will find it advisable to -rest a little after all this excitement, and it would not be amiss to -change your gown.” -</p> - -<p> -When Richard spoke in that tone, he could have shifted an iceberg, so -Eveleen was wont to complain, with some confusion of thought. On the -present occasion, he certainly shifted her. She found herself sitting -on the couch in her bedroom, all the fight gone out of her, while he -stood before her, his face wearing what she called its hatefullest -expression. -</p> - -<p> -“Now look here, my dear,” he said coldly, “there has been enough of -these heroics. Twice over you have badgered Bayard in a way that would -have made any other man on earth <i>jawab</i> [dismiss] me on the spot, and -it is not to happen again. Why he don’t forbid you to set foot outside -the compound I don’t know.” -</p> - -<p> -Defiance revived. “I do,” said Eveleen. “Because he knows ’twould be -no good.” -</p> - -<p> -“Believe me, you would not find it easy to pass the gates in the teeth -of the guard.” -</p> - -<p> -“As if I’d dream of trying it! I’d jump the wall, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -He recognised the futility of argument. “At any rate, if he chooses to -leave you full liberty, I am going to restrict it. You won’t be able -to ride much longer in office hours, happily—the sun is getting too -hot—but as long as you do, you will be good enough to avoid the -villages. If you can’t ride past these people without interfering in -their concerns, why—take another direction, if you please.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t mind,” listlessly. “Sure it’s no pleasure to me to see such -shocking things happening, and nobody with the heart to lift a finger -to prevent them!” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you mean to say that after what Bayard told you, you still -expect——” -</p> - -<p> -“Expect? I don’t expect anything of him at all. But will you tell me -that if Sir Harry Lennox was here, there would nothing be done?” -</p> - -<p> -“That old ruffian? Oh, I dare say he’d be capable——” -</p> - -<p> -“You may call him all the names you like, but I tell you he would have -hanged that murderer the other day, if it had been a Khan upon his -throne. And to-day he’d have ridden up to the Fort and broken the -gates down, and let all the women out.” -</p> - -<p> -“And a nice thing that would be! Try to borrow a little common-sense, -my dear, even if you don’t possess any. The Fort is full of women, and -you talk calmly of turning ’em all out of doors—penniless, homeless, -accustomed to a luxurious existence! Take my word for it, they -wouldn’t thank you! A few might be silly enough to accept the offer of -freedom, but they would precious soon come begging to be let in again. -They have everything women can want—at any rate, these women—good -food, fine clothes——” -</p> - -<p> -“Food and clothes!” scornfully. “Why, I have food and clothes!” -</p> - -<p> -“And ain’t you happy, pray?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am the most miserable woman alive!” with tremendous emphasis and -absolute—if transitory—conviction. For once Richard Ambrose was -staggered. Astonishment, remorse, resentment, incredulity—she read -them all in his face for one moment. Then he recovered himself. -</p> - -<p> -“Pooh, pooh, my dear! you exaggerate,” he said sharply. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch04"> -CHAPTER IV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A LUCKLESS DAY.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Morning</span> brought—if not counsel—a considerable measure of -cheerfulness to Eveleen. To her buoyant temperament protracted gloom -was impossible, and her husband smiled to remember his momentary -alarm. In her full enjoyment of the happiness she had for ever -disclaimed, she was as shallow as any of the native women whose cause -she had championed. Unfortunately he could not know what was the root -of her pleasurable excitement this morning. His command to avoid the -villages had reminded her of a plan for continuing Bajazet’s education -that had occurred to her when riding with Sir Dugald Haigh one -evening—but had been carefully concealed from that prudent young man. -So far she had never ridden what she delighted to call “my Arab” when -in company with others. She meant the accomplishments of her little -steed to burst proudly on the men who had laughed at him and slandered -his ancestry. Colonel Bayard had had some jumps put up for her in the -compound, and encouraged her in many unsuccessful attempts to take -Bajazet over them with the assurance that your true Arab was never a -good jumper. Much practice had at length enabled her to get him over -them after a fashion, and now she wished to try him over water. The -Resident himself was her companion on the early morning ride—a -parting compliment, since he was leaving by the up-river steamer later -in the day; and as he was a sound, rather than an adventurous -horseman, she found it decidedly dull, its decorum redeemed only by -the romantic wildness of the escort of Khemistan Horse. Her time came -when he and Richard were safely at work in the office, and she could -start out again on Bajazet, attended by the meek syce and an orderly -of satisfactorily brigandish appearance called Shab-ud-din. They rode -out beyond the belt of gardens surrounding the city, so far that -Shab-ud-din began to be anxious, and tried to warn her of something. -He knew no English, the syce very little, and Eveleen about as little -Persian, but their efforts towards mutual comprehension were assisted -by the sound and vibration of heavy guns not far off, and she -understood that the Khans’ artillery was practising somewhere in this -direction. Her attendants were satisfied when she turned aside towards -the river again, though they did not seem quite happy when she reached -her goal. The country out here was a kind of chessboard, cut up in all -directions by irrigation canals, and she had marked one which seemed -exactly suited to her purpose. Deep and wide where it left the river, -it parted with so much water to smaller canals on either side that at -the point she had chosen it was a mere trickle between quite -manageable banks. Bajazet did not appear to like it at first—perhaps -to his desert-descended mind water was something to be respected -rather than leapt over—but after she had dismounted and led him -across once or twice, he began to enter into the idea, and his -mistress flattered him with the assurance that he was a great little -horse indeed. -</p> - -<p> -There was only one drawback to her satisfaction, and that was -Shab-ud-din’s inability to comprehend that he need not follow her -backwards and forwards across the canal. He was very loyal and very -dense, and evidently felt that wherever the Beebee went it was his -duty to go too. His youth had not been spent in the hunting-field, and -his horse was much heavier than Bajazet, so that when Eveleen -increased the length of the jumps by moving farther down the canal, -the results became rather alarming. Two or three falls in the soft -sandy mud happily inflicted no serious injury, but the banks suffered -a good deal, and so did the channel. -</p> - -<p> -Engrossed in her sport, Eveleen did not realise how time was passing -until the increasing heat of the sun began to make itself unpleasantly -evident. It really would soon be too hot to go out in the daytime, she -said to herself regretfully, finding the prospect of the long ride -back to the Residency the reverse of attractive. She must be getting -near a village, too—at least, there were people running across the -fields; so droll for them to be coming out to work at this time of -day! Well, just one more jump, to take her to the right side of the -canal for home, and this would be really a good wide one. Turning to -Shab-ud-din, she did her best, by word and gesture, to explain to him -that he had better ride a little higher up, and not attempt to cross -here, but as she rode towards the bank she heard him pounding after -her. It was his own fault, the foolish fellow! she could not pull up -now, but she hoped he would fall soft—the fragmentary thoughts passed -through her mind as Bajazet rose to the leap. But this time he was not -to sail lightly over the obstacle—“like a bird,” as she delighted to -say,—for a man who must have been crouching unseen in the -water-channel started up, waving his arms and shouting. Had Eveleen -not been taken by surprise the good little horse might have cleared -the interrupter, but involuntarily she deflected him ever so slightly -from his course. He faltered, jumped short, and as he staggered among -the stiff clods of the opposite bank Shab-ud-din and his big horse -came thundering down upon the two. Shab-ud-din would probably have -come off in any case, but in his horror at the scene in front of him -he must have tried to pull up, and forthwith executed a complicated -somersault sideways which left him groaning in the mud. -</p> - -<p> -With an instinct born of long experience, Eveleen had freed her foot -from the stirrup when she saw disaster imminent, but it was not -necessary for her to roll from the saddle, nor was she thrown from it. -What happened—to her exceeding wrath—was that the man whose -interference had caused all the trouble seized the skirt of her long -habit and deliberately dragged her to the ground while Bajazet was -struggling for a foothold. The shock pulled the reins from her hands, -and she saw her steed, freed from her weight, reach the top of the -bank safely and dash off in one direction, while Shab-ud-din’s, -struggling up with an energy which sent the clods flying every way at -once, laboured heavily up the side and disappeared in the other. The -syce was nowhere to be seen, and Eveleen found herself sitting in the -damp mud of the channel, helplessly entangled in her habit, with -Shab-ud-din lying motionless close at hand in an attitude that spoke -to her experienced eye of broken bones, and an angry crowd, who seemed -to have arrived on the scene by magic, yelling and dancing with rage -all about her. She was absolutely defenceless, for she had even lost -her whip in the fall, and every word of Persian she had ever known was -gone completely out of her head—even if these Khemi cultivators could -have understood it. The only thing she could do was to adjust her -hat—which was half-way down her back—for the sun was blazing down -upon her, and then to look as much as possible as if she was not in -the least frightened, which was wholly untrue. If she could even have -risen to her feet, she felt that she might have overawed the mob, but -what could she do when it was impossible to free herself and stand up -without assistance? The men were all armed—some with rusty but -murderous-looking swords, all with heavy iron-shod sticks—and to -judge by their attitude, they had every intention of using them on -her. She found herself speculating which of them would strike the -first blow—the signal for all the rest to fall on her—and decided in -favour of a truculent person who was prancing about and swinging a -huge tulwar in most unpleasant proximity to her head. Would Richard be -sorry? the question presented itself irresistibly, and brought its own -answer—— Undoubtedly, but it would be because his wife hadn’t had -the sense to die decently in her bed! -</p> - -<p> -It would not have been Eveleen not to laugh at the picture thus called -up, and the sight of her amusement gave pause to her assailants. They -did not shout quite so loud, and the tulwar came down a little farther -off instead of actually upon her. In this moment of comparative relief -she saw the stranger. He was riding along the bank towards them—as -fast as the insecure footing would allow, dashing the clods this way -and that—and he was leading Bajazet. He was richly dressed, with a -gorgeous <i>pagri</i> striped with gold, but his complexion was not -dark—rather the brick-red of a European burnt by tropical suns. He -shouted angrily as he came near, and the mob gave one glance of terror -and dissolved helter-skelter. He turned and shouted to some one out of -sight, and the rush of horses’ feet and clank of accoutrements seemed -to show that he was attended by a military escort, which he was -directing to pursue the fugitives. He dismounted as he came -near—Eveleen’s syce appeared out of space to take the horses’ -bridles—and stumbled down the rough bank towards her. -</p> - -<p> -“I trust you ain’t hurt, ma’am? Bless my soul, if it ain’t Miss -Evie—Miss Delany, I should say!” -</p> - -<p> -The voice, with its Cockney accent, brought back vague memories of -misty mornings, of purpling copses and vivid turf, of battered stone -walls and untrimmed hedges masking sunken lanes—all the -accompaniments of a day’s hunting in the old life. But why not an -Irish voice? With a sudden effort Eveleen found the clue—recalled a -young man, not a gentleman, who had come into the neighbourhood on -some legal business, and having been bitten by the prevailing mania, -had afforded a rich feast of amusement to the members of the hunt. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not you, Mr Carthew?” she said incredulously. -</p> - -<p> -“’Sh, miss! They call me Tamas Sahib here, and it’s safer. To think of -comin’ across you!” -</p> - -<p> -“And they call me Mrs Ambrose,” she laughed, as he helped her up. “But -why would you be going about dressed up like this?” -</p> - -<p> -“I ain’t one of your lot,” he avoided her eye. “Master-General of -Ordnance to their Highnesses—that’s what I am. The Resident he don’t -know nothin’ about me, and I’ll thank you, ma’am, not to tell him -nothin’.” -</p> - -<p> -“As you please,” she said, rather perplexed. “But you’ll not mind my -telling Major Ambrose—in confidence——” as she surprised a look of -something like alarm. “Sure you must see he’ll wish to thank you for -coming to my help,” with a touch of <i>hauteur</i>. What was the man so -mysterious about? -</p> - -<p> -“As you please, ma’am. But you’ll remember I ain’t an Englishman -here—just one of these people.” He had wrung most of the water out of -her skirt by this time, and brushed off some of the mud—clumsily, but -with evident goodwill. “You did better for me once,” as he looked -disparagingly at his handiwork. -</p> - -<p> -“The time I cot your horse for you when you were in the boghole? Ah -no, nonsense! I didn’t even try to brush the mud off you, because you -were all mud, every bit of you, were you not? But would you look at -us, talking over old times like this, and leaving poor Shab-ud-din to -lie and groan!” -</p> - -<p> -“Let me see to him, ma’am. It’s no job for you.” -</p> - -<p> -“That it is, when he came by his fall trying to help me. What d’ye -think now? his collar-bone. I’d say it was, and maybe an arm as -well—and how in the wide world will we get him home?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you’ll be good enough to leave it to me, ma’am—believe me, you -must. It’s for my own sake——” shamefacedly. “It won’t do for my men -to catch me talking privately with you. If you’ll mount and follow me, -they shall bring the poor chap in.” -</p> - -<p> -“Follow you?” her eyebrows went up slightly. -</p> - -<p> -“If you don’t mind, ma’am. That’s the way here, you know, and as I was -saying, I’m one of ’em now.” -</p> - -<p> -With what she felt was exemplary meekness, Eveleen allowed the syce to -mount her, and waited while her old acquaintance rode to meet the wild -horsemen who formed his escort. They were returning in triumph, -bringing with them several of the fugitive assailants, who bore every -appearance of having been roughly handled. It occurred to her suddenly -that to deliver over Khemi villagers to a band of Arabits was probably -equivalent to sentencing them to death, and she called after Carthew— -</p> - -<p> -“What was it made the villagers so angry? What were they after?” -</p> - -<p> -“You were breakin’ down their canal, and they thought you meant -destroyin’ it, ma’am. I’ll teach ’em to make a fuss about what their -betters do in future.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now, now, ’twas my fault,” said Eveleen. “They have got a good -beating, by the look of them, so let them go, and please give them ten -rupees from me, to pay for the damage.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s encouragin’ ’em to do it again——” he began. -</p> - -<p> -“They won’t get the chance, or I’m much mistaken—knowing Major -Ambrose as I do,” with a sigh. “No, ’twas just to show them I wasn’t -meaning to do any harm.” She watched Carthew as he met his followers, -had the prisoners ranged in front of him and harangued them -impressively, then received money from an attendant who produced it -from some mysterious hiding-place in his girdle, and distributed it -among them. It made her smile to see that he shepherded his troopers -carefully back, evidently suspecting that otherwise they might follow -the pardoned criminals and force them to disgorge. Leaving two men to -look after Shab-ud-din, he led the way again towards Qadirabad, -Eveleen following him, with the syce at her stirrup, and the escort -bringing up the rear. The sun was very hot by this time, Bajazet was -tired and stumbled more than once, and Eveleen drooped in her saddle, -trying to nerve herself in advance for the ordeal of meeting a justly -incensed Richard. She met him sooner than she expected, in a cloud of -dust, with an escort of Khemistan Horse. Carthew drew aside, with an -admirable air of contempt alike for the service he had rendered and -for its object. Richard was angry. -</p> - -<p> -“What have you been doing with yourself now?” he demanded of his muddy -and dishevelled wife. -</p> - -<p> -“I got a fall, and this—this gentleman—something in the Khans’ -Artillery he is—helped me up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sardar Sahib”—Richard rode a little nearer the disdainful figure of -the rescuer—“I am deeply indebted to you. Accept my acknowledgments.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is nothing, sahib. I happened by chance upon the spot.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t let him go!” Eveleen whispered anxiously. “There were some -villagers—I spoiled their canal or something—he paid ten rupees for -me—we must give it him back.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t carry piles of coin about with me, my dear, but I imagine he -will trust me. Or have you already given him your whip in pledge?” -</p> - -<p> -Horror-stricken, Eveleen realised that she had not recovered her -gold-mounted whip—the gift of the hunt on her marriage. “It’s -gone—lost!” she said despairingly. “I must go back—or another day, -perhaps—and look for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I understand, Sardar Sahib, there’s a -small matter of money between us. It shall be sent to your quarters in -an hour without fail. But I am still infinitely your debtor.” -</p> - -<p> -“The obligation is on my side, sahib. May you be fortunate!” and with -due interchange of compliments the two parties separated. -</p> - -<p> -“This is the last time you’ll ride out without an escort, my dear!” -said Richard pleasantly. “It’s clear you ain’t able to take care of -yourself. That’s the Yankee chap who commands the Khans’ Artillery, I -presume? How did he contrive to be on the spot so pat?” -</p> - -<p> -“How would I know?” listlessly. “But it’s English he is—not American. -I know him.” -</p> - -<p> -“You have the most extraordinary set of acquaintances of any female I -have ever met! He gives himself out as American—that’s all I know. -Where have you seen him before?” -</p> - -<p> -“He used to follow the hounds one season, a few years ago. ’Twas just -when <i>Pickwick</i> was coming out, and everybody called him Mr Winkle, -for he’d turn up on the most hopeless crocks you ever saw, and as -often on the ground as in the saddle. Some sort of attorney’s clerk he -was—hunting up evidence or something, but it wasn’t much he got, -unless he found it in the mud.” -</p> - -<p> -“His riding has improved since then, evidently—or he rides better -horses,” drily. “What became of him?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Ambrose, how would I know? I did hear a rumour that he had -got into some trouble and enlisted, but ’twas likely nothing but -scandal.” -</p> - -<p> -“And then got into some more trouble and deserted—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure y’are very ready to belittle the poor fellow!” Eveleen turned -upon her husband. “I suppose that’s the measure of the value you set -upon your wife—the way you treat the man who’s just saved her life?” -</p> - -<p> -“You had not told me the extent of the obligation, my dear. But the -greater it is, the more careful you had better be to maintain the -distance he has fixed between himself and us. The fellow is -undoubtedly a deserter from our artillery—whether from the Bengal -side or this I don’t know; the native princes are always ready to -entertain ’em to instruct their troops. I have told you he passes -himself off as a Yankee—that’s to prevent our making enquiries, of -course, and perhaps also to evade the suspicions of his present -employers. They would smell a rat at once did he show any desire for -intercourse with the Agency. There’s no manner of doubt he’s a -deserter.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose, you wouldn’t contemplate laying information against him?” -anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you take me for, my dear? No doubt it’s my duty, but as you -have reminded me, the fellow has placed me under a profound -obligation. If you’ll remember the fact yourself, and be content to -pass him without acknowledgment should you meet, so much the better -for him.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen did not agree with this at all. The tone in which Richard -spoke of the “profound obligation” was disagreeable, and the thought -of cutting her rescuer dead was more so. But she was too much subdued -and dispirited to embark on further wordy warfare just now, though she -made her own resolutions privately. Richard, observing her unwonted -meekness, drew flattering deductions from it, and improved the -occasion by intimating that she would do well to relieve the -Resident’s mind by promising to confine her rides within orthodox -limits in future. But this was too much to ask, and when Colonel -Bayard came out anxiously to meet the rescue expedition and enquire -how it had sped, his solicitude did not meet with the gratitude it -deserved, since he incautiously expressed the same hope. What was to -happen if she felt she <i>must</i> go out for a gallop when she was bound -by a promise not to? Eveleen demanded indignantly; and thus faced by -the old problem of the immovable object and the irresistible force, -Colonel Bayard wisely confined himself to laying it down, in the -hearing of his staff, that in no case was she to leave the compound in -future without either an escort or European attendance. This was -galling, and she sought her own rooms in much depression of spirit. -But the misfortunes of this unfortunate day were not yet at an end. -Richard, who had accompanied her in a considerate silence which she -would certainly not have maintained had their cases been reversed, -suddenly found his tongue. -</p> - -<p> -“There was a letter for you in the <i>dâk</i>—here it is. That brother of -yours is honouring you, I presume. Why don’t the fellow learn to -write? Such a fist I never saw—nor anybody else neither. Here this -letter has been up to Sahar and down to Bab-us-Sahel again—and all -his fault.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Delanys think more of fighting than of writing,” said Eveleen -succinctly. It sounded so neat that she felt quite cheered. -</p> - -<p> -“No doubt. I’ll wager anything the fellow wants more money, or he -wouldn’t have written now. If he does, you had better leave it to me -to answer him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll not do anything of the sort. He don’t want money, I’m certain, -and if he did, he wouldn’t take yours.” -</p> - -<p> -“H’m!” said Richard Ambrose infuriatingly. -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you he wouldn’t look at it—not if you offered him millions, -and brought it to him on your bended knees!” -</p> - -<p> -“That”—with the strict moderation she found so trying—“is hardly -likely. Well, my dear, I’ll leave you to enjoy your letter.” -</p> - -<p> -But Ketty had something to say first, and she said it at length, as -she removed her mistress’s mud-stained garments and disclosed an -extensive system of bruises. In vain did Eveleen assure her that she -had been worse bruised many a time after a day’s hunting, the handmaid -remained of opinion that “Madam-sahibs no done ride that way.” As a -Parthian shot, even as she with drew by command, she expressed the -hope that Master would stop these rides, but by this time Eveleen was -established on her couch in a deliciously cool muslin wrapper, sipping -a cup of tea, and preparing to break the seals of her letter. -</p> - -<p> -Alas, alas! Brian was in trouble still. By the most unfortunate chance -in the world, at this very last moment the brother officer on whom he -had relied to relieve him—at a price—of an elaborate fowling-piece -had been invalided home, and was selling his own guns, and no other -purchaser could be found. The sum at issue was a paltry one—three -hundred rupees would cover it, but without those three hundred rupees -Brian could not appear before Sir Harry Lennox and proudly declare -himself free of debt. Simply and naturally he applied to the helper -who had never yet failed him. Surely Evie’s husband could not refuse -to advance so small a sum if she asked it? He might cut up a bit -rusty, but it would only be for a minute or two. Alas! Richard’s wont -was not merely to let the sun go down upon his wrath, but to cover -that wrath up carefully to keep it warm for the night—so Eveleen had -once declared aghast, in her astonishment at a method so unlike the -quickly passing tempests to which she was accustomed. And moreover, -even if she could have appealed to him two hours ago, it was -absolutely impossible after the last words that had passed between -them. Even for Brian’s sake—rather, perhaps, especially for Brian’s -sake—she could not expose herself and him to the certainty of a -refusal couched as Richard Ambrose would couch it. But something must -be done, for at the end of his letter Brian supplied an additional -reason:— -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“So do your best for me, my dear girl, for I am <i>bruk entirely</i>, as -old Tim the huntsman used to say. If you don’t, you will lose more -than you bargain for—this is a dead secret. I hear old Sir Harry is -bound for Kaymistaun before long, so stump up the tin somehow if you -have any fancy for seeing -</p> - -<p class="sign2"> -“Your despairing brother, -</p> - -<p class="sign2"> -“<span class="sc">Brian Delany</span>.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -But how? Eveleen’s first thought was to apply to Colonel Bayard, but -the thought was relinquished as soon as formed. He would press upon -her three thousand rupees instead of three hundred if he had it, but -he would certainly make Richard a party to the transaction—and then -it would be at an end. She became as despairing as Brian himself as -she ran over the names of the various men with whom she came in -contact. Some of them would be unable to raise the money, having -solved the problem of existing on chits eked out by a judicious -distribution of their pay as it came in; some would be so proper that -they would tell Richard at once; others would hold over her the threat -of telling him, and do so at last. Clearly there was nothing to be -done in that way. She must sell something—or, at any rate, get an -advance on something, and that not from the Soucars who acted as -bankers to the Agency, but from some firm without official -connections. The idea sounded hopeful. Her own simple rural life had -known nothing of pawnbrokers, but she had relatives in Dublin who, in -common with the rest of their circle, were wont to “deposit” their -ancestral jewellery—at the bank, it was politely understood—save -during the brief Castle season, while the family plate was “stored” in -like manner except when required for a rare dinner-party. She must -certainly pawn something, since the few odd coins in her own -possession, if hunted up from all the nooks and corners where they -somehow found hiding-places, might possibly amount to five rupees, but -more probably would not. -</p> - -<p> -But what could she pawn? She had so little jewellery that Richard -would be sure to notice it if any particular ornament was not worn for -some time, and none of it was very costly. She knew little about -values, but she feared it might need all her trinkets to serve as -security for three hundred rupees. All save one, that is. Impulsively -she rose, and going to her jewel-case, took out the turquoise disc. To -the Western eye it was not particularly attractive, but the Oriental -mind attached to it a sentimental worth. She recalled the day when she -had worn it at Bombay to show Brian, who was staying with her, and the -awe and reverence with which his bearer, a Northern man, had viewed -it. His eyes were glued to it from the moment he first distinguished -it amid the laces on her breast, and when she took it off and handed -it to Brian to examine, the servant retreated a little, as though -either afraid or consciously unworthy to approach. When his master -demanded what was the matter, the man explained that the stone was -undoubtedly the Seal of Solomon, bearing the Name at which all the -demons trembled, and endowing its owner with power to compel their -services. Nothing more was needed to make the brother and sister waste -the whole evening, and all the sealing-wax in the house, in trying to -produce a satisfactory impression, entirely without success. The -bearer, appealed to with ribaldry by his master, pointed out that the -markings on the stone might by the eye of faith be interpreted as -forming the required letters. It was the seal itself, not the -impression, that signified, he said, and to cut it, as the sahib -suggested, would be impious in the extreme, since it already bore all -that was necessary. He ended by adjuring Eveleen to keep it safely, -and pointed out the value which must have been attached to it by the -former possessor who had suspended it from its strong steel chain. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it’s not much use to me!” said Eveleen. “Not being Solomon, I -can’t wear a ring the size of a soup-plate, and Ambrose don’t like to -see it round my neck. It may be very nice and magical, as your man -says, but what good’s that when I don’t know how it works?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, sure the thing will come in some time,” said Brian vaguely. “Let -me have a try with it. Rubbing, now—that’s what it wants, ain’t it? -I’ll give it a rubbing it won’t forget in a hurry!” -</p> - -<p> -But no amount of rubbing produced any effective manifestation, and now -the stone was to be made useful in another way. Any pawnbroker would -surely be willing to advance three hundred rupees on such a treasure. -But the difficulty was to find him. Eveleen could not quite imagine -herself scouring the Qadirabad Bazar for a pawnbroker—especially with -a mounted escort at her heels—and she did not like the idea of -trusting any of the servants. Then came a happy thought. -</p> - -<p> -“Tom Carthew, of course! A disreputable acquaintance, Ambrose may call -him if he likes, but who better can there be to help me do a -disreputable thing? Tom Carthew’s the man!” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch05"> -CHAPTER V.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE SEAL OF SOLOMON.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> escort must have formed a high idea of the courage of European -ladies when Eveleen led the way the next morning in the direction of -the very canal where, as they had learnt from the syce, she had barely -escaped with her life from the hands of infuriated villagers. But this -time she had no intention of continuing Bajazet’s education—so -alarmingly interrupted. What she wanted was to come across Carthew -again, on his way back from his artillery practice. She took great -credit to herself for refraining from sending to him directly, since -Richard had said that would injure him, but it is to be feared that at -the back of her mind was the determination to do so if necessary. Time -was pressing, and Brian must have his money. Happily, however, it was -not necessary, for Tamas Sahib came in sight with his escort while she -was still well on the Qadirabad side of the canal. Both parties -stopped short, and while Eveleen was hesitating whether to ride on -towards Carthew or send a messenger to summon him to speak to her, one -of his men detached himself from the rest and rode towards her party. -But he made no attempt to speak to her, addressing himself instead to -the Daffadar in command of the escort, who went forward a pace or two -to meet him. The messenger delivered over something long and thin, -wrapped in a silk handkerchief, and when it was handed to Eveleen with -the Topkhana Daroga’s salams, she found it was the lost whip. But -there was no time to waste in rejoicing, and she turned boldly to the -Daffadar. -</p> - -<p> -“Let the messenger bear my salams to the Daroga Sahib, and say that I -beg him to approach and receive my thanks.” -</p> - -<p> -The man looked surprised and doubtful, but her tone and bearing were -so carelessly assured that there was no room for misunderstanding. He -repeated her words to the messenger, and when he had ridden back and -reported them, Carthew came forward in his turn, with evident -reluctance. -</p> - -<p> -“Glad to have got you your whip, ma’am,” he said, with the bluffness -that covers embarrassment. “The villagers had it hidden, but I made -’em give it up. And now, if you’ll excuse me goin’ back——” -</p> - -<p> -“But I want you to do something for me first,” Eveleen broke in, -anticipating a hasty withdrawal at the close of the sentence. “Can you -tell me of a pawnbroker?” -</p> - -<p> -“A pawnbroker, ma’am?” Measureless astonishment was in his tone. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, a pawnbroker—or a moneylender, at any rate. I want to raise -some money—at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“But—the Major——” he stammered. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want Major Ambrose to know anything about it. It’s for my -brother—you’ll have seen him at home?” -</p> - -<p> -“And a fine young gentleman he was,” mechanically. “But you don’t -understand, ma’am—it ain’t the thing——” -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you I must have it. If you won’t help me I must ask the -servants. But”—with the air of one making a huge concession—“I don’t -mind handing the jewellery over to you, so that you can get the money -as if for yourself.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the look of it, ma’am! How could I put the money in your hands? -The Major must become aware——” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well, then—tell me where the man lives, or show me the way -there, and I’ll do it myself.” -</p> - -<p> -“You can’t, ma’am, believe me. You don’t seem to see——” -</p> - -<p> -“I see what must be done, and that I’ll have to do it if you won’t. -That’s plain, ain’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -The unhappy Carthew pondered the matter. “There <i>is</i> a fellow,” he -said reluctantly at last, “that has a garden somewhere this way. If he -should so happen to be there to-day, it would be better than goin’ to -his house in the Bazar. Have you the—the goods with you, ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -“That I have!” She handed him the little parcel from her -saddle-pocket. “And it must be three hundred rupees, you’ll -remember—no less, and I want to send it to Poonah.” -</p> - -<p> -“A letter of credit,” he murmured vaguely. “And these—this is your -own, ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -“Every bit my own—given me by the General. Major Ambrose has nothing -to do with it. Then I’ll be riding about here, if you’ll bring me the -money or the letter or whatever it is?” -</p> - -<p> -“If I might send it to the Residency——?” feebly, but he was wax in -her hands. The old tradition of the hunting-field was too strong. She -scorned the suggestion. -</p> - -<p> -“Didn’t you tell me yourself it wouldn’t do? No, just give it me here, -and we’ll be done with it.” -</p> - -<p> -What the Daffadar and his men thought when they saw the Daroga ride -back to his escort, and found themselves following at a discreet -distance, did not appear. Eveleen was determined to keep her emissary -in sight, lest he should make use of the narrow lanes between the -garden walls to take to his heels, and afterwards return the jewel -with regrets. She had no particular confidence in him—merely a lordly -feeling that since he was here, he must do what was required of him, -and be well looked after while he did it. He had always been inclined -to shirk his fences, and her kindness to him after the boghole -disaster was a debt of honour, since it was purely at her incitement -he had dared the leap. She saw him halt at a gateway and demand -admittance, then ride in, and she began to walk Bajazet up and down, -keeping a wary eye on the gate meanwhile, the escort following her -movements faithfully. Sooner than she expected she saw Carthew -emerging again, and rode forward to meet him. -</p> - -<p> -“You won’t tell me you have not made him do it? You must think of -somebody else, then.” -</p> - -<p> -“It ain’t that. The old chap seems uncommon pleased, that’s a fact. -But he wants to know how you got hold of the thing—afraid he might be -accused of stealin’ it, I suppose”—as wrath flashed from Eveleen’s -eyes—“and if it’s brought you good luck since you had it?” -</p> - -<p> -“What in the world would that matter to him?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know, ma’am—unless he’s afraid of keepin’ it in his house if -it’s been unlucky with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“That it hasn’t, then. Why, didn’t I get married since it was given -me?” If there was irony in her tone, it did not reach Carthew, who -grasped eagerly at the idea. -</p> - -<p> -“The very thing, and no mistake! And how did the General get the -thing, do you know, ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -“’Twas at Seringapatam—that’s all I know. He may have killed the man -that had it, or he may have bought it from some one that did.” -</p> - -<p> -“That ought to be all right. You’ll get the money, ma’am, never fear! -The letter to be in favour of Lieutenant Delany, I presume?” She -nodded. “Oh, and I was forgettin’. The old fellow seems half inclined -to make you an offer for the thing outright—so much money down. Would -you choose to accept of it?” -</p> - -<p> -“That I won’t! I wouldn’t part with it on any account. Tell him I’ll -redeem it the first chance I get. Ah, and listen now. If it’s luck -he’s thinking of, tell him the luck’s mine, because the seal belongs -to me, and if he loses it—better say ‘loses,’ not ‘sells’—I’ll keep -the luck, and he’ll have the thing without it. That’ll frighten him.” -</p> - -<p> -“As you please, ma’am,” and off he went again, to return after a time -with a document which was naturally quite unintelligible to Eveleen, -but which he assured her was a letter of credit, drawn up in due form, -on a Poonah firm with which her brother was sure to be well -acquainted. “And I was to tell you, ma’am, that if you should wish to -sell the trinket at any time, he made no doubt of being able to find -you a purchaser at a very handsome price, but he would advise you not -to let the chance go by, as the offer might not remain open long.” -</p> - -<p> -“What does he mean? That sounds like a threat,” said Eveleen quickly. -“Well, I’m not going to sell it, and I won’t be threatened by any old -pawnbroker in Qadirabad. You told him that, I hope?” -</p> - -<p> -“I warned him—that I did,” but there was something uneasy and yet -helpless in Carthew’s voice which made her look at him. She waited a -moment to see if he would say anything more, but in vain. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I am greatly obliged to you, Mr Carthew. I don’t know how I’d -have ever managed by myself. I’ll tell my brother how much he’s -indebted to you. Good morning!” -</p> - -<p> -It was not an age when ladies shook hands with all and sundry, and -Carthew did not expect it. He accepted his dismissal with -something—it might almost seem—of relief, and the two parties -separated. -</p> - -<p> -As she made her way home with the precious document in the -saddle-pocket, Eveleen realised the need of getting it to Brian as -soon as possible. His letter to her had consumed so much time in its -wanderings up and down the river that in any case he must run things -very fine. If all her trouble was not to be in vain, she must send the -letter of credit off by the steamer which left for Bab-us-Sahel that -evening, and she groaned, for she was little more of a penman than -Brian himself. But it was consoling to feel that he would make no -complaint of brevity on her part so long as the enclosure was -satisfactory, and the letter was duly despatched, with the assurance -that not even for him could she ask Ambrose for more money, but her -dear boy might be sure that for his sake she would sell, if necessary, -anything but her wedding-ring. The letter once gone, she was quite -happy, knowing nothing of the whirlwind of talk her proceedings had -let loose in the servants’ quarters. As so often happens, Richard, the -other person most concerned, knew nothing of it either, and being much -engrossed in the duties of his new position as head of the Agency in -Colonel Bayard’s absence, did not even notice the excitement that -prevailed. -</p> - -<p> -It was not until some weeks later that Eveleen heard of her pendant -again. The hot weather was coming on, and her daylight rides had -ceased perforce. Only in the early morning hours was exertion -possible, and even then it cost her an effort that astonished her. The -year before she had been at Mahabuleshwar, so that this was her first -hot weather in the plains, and the blazing sun and relentless heat -filled her with a kind of terror, enhanced by the suddenness of the -transition from comparative coolness and night frosts. She was lying -listlessly on a bamboo couch one day, unable to do anything—for the -least exertion made her pant painfully—intent only on getting through -the dreadful hours somehow until evening brought some relief, when -Richard came in. It was an unusual hour for him to appear, for he -stuck to the office as rigorously as his chief had done, and he took -her by surprise. For once he beheld her without the innocent -make-believe of wellbeing and energy—quite unconscious on her -part—which had served hitherto to hide from him how much the heat was -trying her, and she saw his face harden suddenly into decision. But he -spoke of something quite different, with an assumption of bluff humour -which did not suit him at all. Richard Ambrose was not a humorous -person. Like the legendary Scotchman, he joked “wi’ deeficculty.” -</p> - -<p> -“I fancy you won’t feel inclined to raise money on your jewellery -again in a hurry, my dear!” Her eyes, accustomed to the dim light, -could see him distinctly as he groped across the bare shaded room, -whereas he was only able to distinguish the tell-tale inertness of the -white figure on the couch. As always, his voice and presence acted as -a tonic, and Eveleen sat up. -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are greatly pleased with yourself about something, Ambrose! Will -you tell me what it is?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you shall hear it, I promise you!” He dropped into a chair, but -found it impossible to go on wearing the mask. “What possessed you to -go and borrow money from one of these people here?” he demanded -wrathfully, “And through that fellow the Daroga, too! Have you no -sense of what is suitable in your position?” -</p> - -<p> -A challenge to fight would never find Eveleen wanting. “My position?” -she repeated slowly. “My position was that I wanted the money, and had -to get it somehow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Since you were ashamed to ask your husband for it. Oh, don’t be -afraid; I can guess what it was for. That brother of yours again, of -course! If he ain’t ruined, it won’t be his loving sister’s fault.” -</p> - -<p> -“As it happens,” with great dignity, “’twas to save him from ruin, and -I’m proud to have done it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course! It don’t occur to you, I presume, that what the fellow -wants is a regular hard time, under a commander who’ll keep his nose -to the grindstone, instead of peacocking on the Staff? With you -eternally helping him out of every scrape he may choose to get into, -he hasn’t a chance. Well, don’t say I haven’t warned you!” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure that’s the very thing I’m doing—helping him go where he’ll -be well looked after. Helping him with the money, I mean,” she added -in a panic, fearing she had betrayed herself. But Richard, to do him -justice, was not suspicious. -</p> - -<p> -“Have it your own way, my dear. You have your own way of doing things, -and I suppose you’ll stick to it. Of course it was too much to expect -you to consider me in your anxiety to serve your brother?” -</p> - -<p> -“I did consider you,” bluntly. “Sure I’d have asked you for the money -if I hadn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“You wouldn’t have got it, I assure you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, didn’t I save you the unpleasantness of refusing?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder you didn’t take that as a reason for robbing my desk! It -don’t matter, of course, that every tongue in the Agency and in the -Fort is buzzing over my wife and myself, and inventing new scandals -every day?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, people will talk!” with superb detachment. “If there’s nothing -handy to talk about, they’ll make it up. The Agency people know -there’s no harm about us, anyhow, and as for the Fort, I’d like to -know what business it is of theirs?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s it, precisely. You have poked your nose into Khemistan -politics, my dear. You may have discovered by this time that there are -two parties among the Khans—old Gul Ali’s, which wants peace with the -English, and the one headed by young Kamal-ud-din, which would like to -turn us out neck and crop. It has worried me no end lately to find -Kamal-ud-din and his set all so uncommonly cock-a-hoop, and I can tell -by Bayard’s letters that he’s worried too. Well, to-day the reason -came out, when I saw Kamal-ud-din in durbar wearing that blue -dinner-plate of yours. I thought I couldn’t be mistaken, but I made up -my mind to come home and ask you before saying anything, in case it -was merely the fellow to it. I fancy they were rather disappointed -that I didn’t kick up a dust, but afterwards they invited me into the -garden to see a new pavilion they are building. All the young Khans -and their hangers-on were there, and I saw they were egging on little -Hafiz-Ullah to say something. Presently he burst out, with a nasty -little giggle, ‘The Istunt Sahib has not congratulated my cousin on -recovering the talisman of his house.’ Kamal-ud-din was smirking so -vilely that I couldn’t doubt any longer the thing was yours, and that -you had let me in for something unpleasant——” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see why. They might have stolen it,” broke in Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“And then directed my attention to it, while you had said nothing of -losing it? No, my dear, pardon me; I am beginning to know your ways by -this time. I took a good look at the object, and said in a bored sort -of voice, ‘Curious! I could almost believe it had a look of a jewel -that belonged to my wife, and that I bade her get rid of, because -English people don’t wear such things.’ They were a good bit taken -aback at that, but one of the hangers-on put in, ‘Yes, it came from -the Istunt Sahib’s house.’ I looked him down and said—precious -sternly, I promise you,—‘You mean his Highness has bought it from the -goldsmith Mrs Ambrose sold it to. I hope he didn’t let him make too -much on the transaction.’ They saw there was no change to be had out -of me—the Munshi told me afterwards they had their story all pat of -your having sent the thing to Kamal-ud-din with your salams, and if I -had shown any sign of anger or surprise, out it would have come—and -began to offer explanations in a hurry. The talisman had been carried -off fifty years ago by a captain of the guard who quarrelled with the -Khans of that day, and contrived to escape with his life. He was heard -of afterwards as a soldier of fortune in South India, but no one knew -what became of him and the stone at last. I was able to supply the -rest of the story, of course, and they were grateful, having a lurking -doubt whether they had got the right thing after all. It seems the -stone brings good luck to its possessor, which is the reason of all -the secret jubilation that has been worrying me. When they had said -all they had to say, I smiled superior, and remarked what a -satisfaction it was to Mrs Ambrose and myself to have been the means -of restoring such an interesting relic to his Highness’s family, and -so came away.” -</p> - -<p> -“But we have not restored it to them, and we won’t! I never sold -it—only pawned it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely what I thought, my dear. That’s what I meant by saying that -you wouldn’t pawn your jewellery again in a hurry.” -</p> - -<p> -“But he’s not going to keep it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, he is—very much so.” -</p> - -<p> -“You gave away my pendant to this creature?” -</p> - -<p> -“Must I remind you, my dear, that what is yours is mine?” This was -literally true in those days, but it was a sore point with almost -every woman, and tactful husbands did not insist upon it overmuch. -Richard Ambrose realised this immediately. “Not that I would press -that for a moment—you know me better. But you would not wish to -detain another person’s property?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not his property—it’s mine. I came by it honestly, and if you -think the General didn’t, you’d better say so! I won’t have my things -given away without so much as ‘by your leave’!” -</p> - -<p> -“Now pray don’t work yourself up about nothing at all. You shall have -another brooch—or whatever you like to call it—that you can wear, as -you couldn’t this, and with better stones. No doubt the General came -by it honestly, but it’s certain it was stolen property to start with. -Now the rightful owner has got it back, that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, he’s not got the luck that goes with it!” triumphantly. “I -warned the old thief of a pawnbroker that if he parted with the stone -I’d keep that. And so I will!” -</p> - -<p> -“Be quiet!” said Richard sternly, for her voice had risen. “Do you -want to be murdered? That’s what will happen if you talk like this.” -She looked at him aghast, and he proceeded to improve the occasion, -pleased with the effect he had produced. “Now listen to me, my dear. -It’s about time you left off behaving in this childish way, and -settled down like a reasonable being. Since I brought you here you -have given more trouble than all the other women in the place put -together. If the Resident wasn’t soft to the point of folly where a -lady is concerned, you would have been sent down the river again—or -even back to Bombay—in double quick time. But because he’s a fool on -this point, there’s no need I should be. I tell you plainly, I have no -fancy for being stabbed or poisoned purely for the sake of breaking -your luck, but that’s what will happen——” -</p> - -<p> -He stopped perforce, for Eveleen had flung herself upon him with a -shriek. “Ambrose! you don’t mean it? They wouldn’t hurt you because of -my silliness? I’ll write—I’ll go and tell them——” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear! Pray”—he freed himself with some difficulty—“do try to -exercise self-control. Nothing will happen to either of us if you will -only behave with ordinary prudence. The matter is happily ended now, -and needs no intervention on your part. But if I had not belittled the -talisman—had I shown any desire to regain it—we should all probably -have had to fight for our lives to-night. I have instilled into -Kamal-ud-din’s mind a doubt of its value which it will take some time -to repair. The stone is where it belongs; be content with that. And if -I may venture to suggest it, think before you act in future.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I will, I will! I’ll think for <i>hours</i>. But why would you say -we’d be fighting for our lives? Who with?” -</p> - -<p> -“The Khans and their Arabits, of course. Who else?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose! d’ye mean we might be besieged here—actually a siege—and -have adventures, like the ladies who were carried off into Ethiopia? -Why, you talked as if ’twas a punishment bringing me up here, and sure -I’d rather be here than any other place in the world!” -</p> - -<p> -He looked at her hopelessly. “Sometimes I really despair of you, my -dear. But most of those ladies’ husbands had been killed, if I -remember rightly, so perhaps that’s the reason—— No, pray! it is too -hot for demonstrations of such fervour. I beg your pardon—— There!” -</p> - -<p> -Thus rudely checked in throwing herself upon him again, Eveleen -dropped back upon the couch. “It’s no use!” she said in a small -miserable voice. “Whatever I do—nothing will please you. And you say -these cruel things, breaking my heart entirely. What will I do? what -can I do?” she faced him fiercely. “And I’d lie down and let you walk -over me if ’twould give you a moment’s pleasure! Will you tell me what -I’ll do? Don’t sit there like a graven image with the toothache and -look at me as if I was off my head!” -</p> - -<p> -“Sometimes I think you are!” the words were on Richard’s lips, but -some feeling of compunction made him choke them back. He had the -advantage over his wife that he did not always say what he thought. -But he looked physically and mentally exhausted as he lifted his hand -slowly. “Pray, my dear! But the fault is mine. I should not have kept -you up here so long. You are overstrained; I fear an attack of fever.” -She gazed at him in astonishment, almost suspicion. “If you really -wish to please me——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I do, I do!” she assured him fervently. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you will go down the river by the next steamer. I asked Gibbons -t’other day whether his wife would receive you in her bungalow at -Bab-us-Sahel, and he assures me she’ll welcome you heartily. There in -the sea-breezes you will recover your calmness of mind—I trust.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure I don’t know Mrs Gibbons!” with dilated eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“What does that matter? She is an excellent woman, most kind and -motherly—everybody’s friend.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what will I do there?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, how can I say? What do other ladies do? Engage in useful and -elegant feminine occupations, I presume. You will be able to show me -the results——” -</p> - -<p> -“But d’ye mean you won’t be there?” -</p> - -<p> -“How could I? My work keeps me here. But I shall—er—hope to pay you -a visit—perhaps more than one——” -</p> - -<p> -“Major Ambrose,” tragically, “will you never under stand that I didn’t -marry you and come to India to be poked away in other people’s -bungalows like a bit of old furniture? Why, if ’twas only to torment -you——” -</p> - -<p> -“It don’t occur to you, my dear, that I might desire a little respite? -That’s a joke!” he added hurriedly. -</p> - -<p> -“You may well say so! Are y’ not ashamed of yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -“I admit I ought to be. Here I suggest going to considerable trouble, -and some expense, to establish you in comfort away from this place, -where no European female could exist when the hot weather is at its -height, and you receive it as an insult. What more can I say?” He -rose. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was after him in a moment, twisting him round to face her. -“Ah, now, don’t you know that when you speak to me like that you can -turn my heart in your fingers? Sure I’m the most reasonable being in -the world if you’ll only remember to consult me before making these -grand arrangements of yours instead of after!” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed!” drily. “And is there any likelihood that you would fall in -with ’em?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not the slightest! But I’m doing it now.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch06"> -CHAPTER VI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">ENTER THE ADVENTURER.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Bab-us-Sahel</span> had the advantage over Qadirabad that its natural -torridity was tempered by the sea breeze in the daytime and the land -breeze at night, but that was all. After the shady gardens which had -at least looked cool, though they were not so, the staring bareness of -the coast town was the more horrible. No trees, no vegetation -even—save the unsightly milk-bush and the grey-brown thorn which was -supposed to provide the camel with adequate nourishment—neutral tints -everywhere, from glaring white to every possible dull hue that sand or -dust or rock could assume. It was like Egypt without the Nile—the -Egypt of those days, with half-starved donkeys, ragged children, -diseased beggars, and mud-heap houses complete. That was in and around -the native town, which at least had patches of shade here and there, -where the mud hovels nestled up close to the side of a mosque or -sought the shelter of the city wall. But the European houses, strung -out along their sun-baked road, received no shelter either from one -another or from anything else. Each grilled alone in its own compound, -like a mud-built oven subjected to furnace heat from above and on all -sides. Merely to look out from the hot shade of the verandah made the -eyes ache as though they had been exposed to burning flame. The very -wind was hot, and it lifted the all-surrounding dust and whirled it -about in maddeningly confusing shapes—“playing at waterspouts,” -Eveleen once said bitterly—so that you didn’t know whether you were -standing on your head or your heels till you found a thick coating of -grit on your hair. Nor was the place even healthy. The stagnant marsh -remained a marsh when it seemed as though any water in it must -evaporate by boiling—since it was fed by sea-water percolating -through the sand, and the wells apparently drew their supplies from -it, to judge by the taste of the liquid. Experts had reported that -there ought to be an abundant supply of good water in the hills to the -west of the town, but Colonel Bayard felt a delicacy in undertaking -large engineering works. It would look as though the British -occupation of Bab-us-Sahel on the coast, as of Sahar high up the -river, was intended to be permanent, and his aim in life was to prove -that it was not. There were few of the Bab-us-Sahel Europeans who did -not adore Colonel Bayard, but in the hot weather the adoration was -tinged with resentment. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen lived through the dreadful weeks by dint of her consuming -interest in her neighbours’ affairs. All unconsciously her husband had -hit upon the very place for her. It would never have occurred to him -that the impulse to have a finger in every pie, which he called -meddling, could be turned to uses of friendly helpfulness such as -suggested the old neighbourly life at home, where everyone knew and -discussed every one else’s business, and furthered it as opportunity -offered. Mrs Gibbons, as the Agency surgeon’s wife, might be supposed -to have acquired by contiguity a certain amount of professional -knowledge, but if so, it was the merest surface polish, for the good -lady would in any circumstances have physicked and nursed any -community in which she found herself. “Gumption” was the word most -frequently on her lips, and the quality most evident in her actions. -When Colonel Bayard declined again to give an appearance of permanence -to the occupation by establishing an experimental garden—such as all -new stations were equipped with—for determining what the soil would -produce, it was Mrs Gibbons who stepped into the breach in default of -the public authorities, and under inconceivable difficulties, grew -successive crops of vegetables which did much to preserve the health -of her fellow-exiles. She kept fowls which actually produced eggs, a -flock of sheep—a small one, of course, but they were really sheep, -not goats,—and several cows, and woe be to the cowherd who sought to -increase the apparent output of milk by surreptitiously introducing -into the pail some of the water in which a portion of his scanty -attire had been previously soaked. The products of her farm were -eagerly bought up—when there were any to sell, for regardless of such -base details as heavy expense and rightful profit, Mrs Gibbons -rejoiced with her whole heart in giving things away. Eveleen accused -her of standing in rapt contemplation of an unconscious sheep, and -cold bloodedly apportioning its joints in her mind to the various -people in whose needs she was most interested at the moment, but her -whole manner of life was after Eveleen’s own heart. -</p> - -<p> -Theoretically, that is, for if there was one quality of the possession -of which Mrs Ambrose’s worst enemy could not accuse her, it was the -all-important “gumption.” She delighted in distributing gifts of milk -or eggs, but of the minute care and watchfulness required for their -production she was wholly incapable. Mrs Gibbons shook her wise head -over her a dozen times a day, and wondered how a married woman could -possibly be so heedless. The normal Early Victorian married woman, -however young, was staid with a staidness that would be improbable in -a grandmother at the present day. She laid down the law to other women -with the assurance naturally conferred by her position on a dazzling -eminence attained by sheer merit, and she made—or professed to -make—her husband’s comfort and satisfaction her one object in life. -Mrs Ambrose fell lamentably below this standard. Like Richard, Mrs -Gibbons was compelled sorrowfully to believe that she had never really -grown up. She coaxed when she should have commanded, received with -ingenuous pleasure attentions she ought to have demanded as a right, -and would forsake at any time the lofty society of her sister-matrons -to advise a subaltern as to the proper treatment of a sick pony. But, -as her hostess once said indignantly to a detractor, she would give -the gown from her back to any one that needed it, and run herself off -her legs to help a sick person; and if this did not necessarily show -gumption, it showed something better. There were no professional -nurses in India, not even Mrs Gamp and Mrs Prig, and a woman’s -character was soon gauged by her readiness to nurse her friends in -time of need—and not her friends only, but the veriest stranger, who -had, as Europe would have said, no sort of claim upon her. Naturally -Mrs Gibbons’s services were in constant, demand when the inevitable -“low fever” made its appearance towards the end of the hot weather, -but could she have multiplied herself by twenty, they would not have -gone round, so that she was glad to be able to turn over some of the -slighter cases to her guest. She did so not without misgiving, and -with an impressive warning as to the size of doses, and the -distinction to be observed between internal and external application; -but no tragedies occurred. As a matter of fact, the medicine was -generally forgotten, unless the patient or a servant remembered it, -while the nurse brightened the sick-room with anecdote and comment, -until the victims declared reproachfully that they would die of -laughing, if of nothing else. She herself found the torments of -prickly heat easier to bear when her mind was thus occupied, and was -beginning to pride herself on having got through the hot weather -remarkably well, when, just as all properly constituted people were -counting the days to the breaking of the monsoon, she also went down -with the fever. It was not a very severe attack, but it was -characteristic of Eveleen to be convinced she would not recover, and -with bitter tears to entreat Mrs Gibbons to let her see Ambrose just -once more. Mrs Gibbons had been surprised, and a little scandalised, -by the apparent brevity of the communications passing between the -pair, and the obviously appalling difficulty Eveleen found in writing -to her husband, and it is possible that she heightened the colours a -little in her own letter. At any rate, when Eveleen awoke one day from -a refreshing sleep, to the welcome sound of rain pouring down outside, -she found Richard sitting looking at her. She smiled at him happily. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s nice, now!” she said in her soft crooning voice. “It’s a -pleasure to see you there, Ambrose. If you knew how good y’are to look -at, you’d maybe be too proud.” -</p> - -<p> -Richard Ambrose—buttoned up and strapped down as all official Britons -were in those days, even in the tropics—smiled with some -embarrassment. “I fear you are joking, my dear. Ought I to return the -compliment?” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’ought, then!” with energy. “I may be a washed-out doll, but my hair -is smooth. You see that?” -</p> - -<p> -She held out in a feeble hand a limp tress, which he scrutinised -doubtfully. Eveleen’s hair was as ill regulated as her character. It -would not curl, but neither would it lie flat, since it was possessed -of a rebellious crispness which defied brushing and all known pomades. -Hence the sportive ringlet and the sleek band—the two styles alone -possible to the normal woman of the day—were both out of the -question. But Richard did not look pleased. -</p> - -<p> -“I—I think I liked it better as it used to be,” he said hesitatingly. -Eveleen sighed loudly. -</p> - -<p> -“Some people are never satisfied!” she lamented, then her tone -changed. “And y’are come to take me back with y’at last? Oh, don’t -tell me y’are not!” -</p> - -<p> -“I—I really can’t say, my dear. We ain’t our own masters in Khemistan -nowadays—I suppose you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“That Sir Harry Lennox is coming up? I know that, of course. Brian’s -safely on the Staff now—you have heard?” -</p> - -<p> -“I saw it gazetted—yes.” The tone firmly declined to congratulate -either superior or subordinate. “Well, then, you must see that things -are altered. It don’t lie with me to give you leave to come up the -river—nor even with Bayard now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure it’s all the same thing, if it lies with Sir Harry. But why do -you talk as if he would change things?” -</p> - -<p> -“His appointment must supersede Bayard—may supersede all of us. -Surely you perceive that? Bayard and Bayard’s men ain’t likely to be -here long.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see why. I believe Colonel Bayard and Sir Harry will like one -another greatly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Fall on each other’s necks and swear eternal friendship, in fact? -Well, my dear, I hope so, but I doubt it. Old Lennox is Maryport’s -man, and if he comes here, it’s to further Maryport’s policy, and we -all know what that is.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Sir Harry don’t see eye to eye with Lord Maryport by any means. -Brian says he can’t speak with patience of the way his plan for the -Ethiopian Expedition was bungled at the end—leaving the ladies -prisoners and all. If they hadn’t been rescued, ’twas all the talk in -Poonah that he’d have called out the Governor-General.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, there you are, you see. He would have had us remain in -Ethiopia, no doubt.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it! He wouldn’t allow native states inside our -boundaries, but he would never advance a step beyond them unless he -was forced. The times I’ve heard him say that! If he comes, ’twill be -to make the Khans keep their treaties, that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray, my dear, don’t agitate yourself so excessively. Ain’t Bayard -here to make the Khans keep their treaties, and will they do it? And -if they won’t do it for him, whom they call their father and mother, -will they do it for the first arrogant old party that comes -<i>behaudering</i> [swaggering] along? And when they won’t—what then?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Sir Harry will make ’em, or know the reason why.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely; he’ll break ’em, and say that was his orders.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if ’twas his orders, sure he must do it?” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye think any orders would induce Bayard to do it? He’d be broke -first himself, and that’s what will happen, you mark my words. The -G.-G. wants Khemistan, and means to get it.” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke so warmly that Eveleen’s voice was quite timid—she could not -bear to hint at disagreement when Richard was for once talking to her -as a reasonable being—as she suggested meekly, “But if the Khans made -the treaties, oughtn’t they keep them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, ain’t Bayard trying to make ’em? As he says, if the fools would -only consult their own interests, they would be on his side. The -treaties leave ’em quite free to govern the country according to their -own ideas—though that don’t commend itself to you, eh? But there they -are, and if they would behave themselves in their external relations, -Maryport himself couldn’t lay a finger on ’em. But they won’t—very -far from it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure they ought be punished, then.” -</p> - -<p> -“All very well theoretically, my dear, but you wait till it has to be -done. That’s where the trouble will begin, and we shall all be in two -camps. Bayard on one side—one of ourselves, a great <i>shikari</i>, a -<i>pukka</i> sportsman—and on the other a foul-mouthed old blackguard who -boasts that he knows nothing of India, and goes about abusing high and -low the Directors, who are our masters and his, and the Services, who -are supposed to be his comrades, and making the troops discontented. -Whose part d’ye think most people will take—all old Indians -especially?” -</p> - -<p> -“But you wouldn’t mean they’d——” -</p> - -<p> -“I ain’t suggesting there’ll be bloodshed among ourselves. But Bayard -will resign, or be kicked out, and old Harry will rush to destruction -with no one to stop him. The G.-G. may think he has set him an easy -task, but he don’t know Khemistan. It’ll mean war to a certainty. -Without Bayard to smooth ’em down, the Khans won’t stand the old -chap’s <i>gali</i>, [insults] and their Arabits will face any army we can -bring against ’em. Kamal-ud-din especially is full of fight.” He -stopped suddenly, then laughed a little. “I don’t know what you’ll say -to Kamal-ud-din’s latest, by the bye. Whether the performances of the -talisman haven’t quite come up to expectation, or whether he heard of -your threat to keep the luck, and resents it, I can’t say, but he -seems to think the Seal ain’t quite complete. At any rate, a friend of -his called upon me to enquire in the most discreet manner whether I -was disposed to part with you, as there was a good home waiting for -you where the jewel and you would be reunited.” -</p> - -<p> -“The shameful wretch!” Eveleen’s blue eyes had dilated till they -looked all black. “To dare to suggest such a thing——! And what did -you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“That his flattering proposals could not be entertained till my wife -was a widow—— Eh? what did you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing more? You let him think——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I kicked him out. But they saw nothing shocking in the idea, of -course—meant everything to be quite open and above-board, arranged in -the most friendly way——” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if you call that friendly!” Tears and fury strove in Eveleen’s -voice. -</p> - -<p> -“They would regard it as quite friendly to invite a man to divorce his -wife that she might marry some one else. The unfriendly way would be -to take her without asking. Now really, my dear! I thought you would -look upon it as a good joke, or I wouldn’t have told you.” -</p> - -<p> -“And I suppose he said your wife was a crosspatch, and as ugly as sin, -and altogether you’d do well to be rid of her and get another?” -</p> - -<p> -“You must think me a very patient fellow, my dear! And ’pon my -honour,” slowly, “I begin to believe I must be.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose, you have made a joke! D’ye hear, that was a joke! What’s -come to you?” She was laughing hysterically. “And to do it when you -must be cursing yourself for not taking the chance to get rid of me -and start afresh! A new wife who would be English and proper and -suitable and all the things I couldn’t be to save my life!” -</p> - -<p> -“And wouldn’t be if you could? No, steady! no more of this, please. -Quiet!” -</p> - -<p> -His firm hand on her shoulder helped Eveleen to choke back the screams -which threatened to burst forth, but she grasped the hand convulsively -and held fast to it. “No, I’ll be good, I’ll be good! I didn’t -mean—— But tell me now—Ambrose, tell me—what have I done? How have -I disappointed you? How will I ever put things right if I don’t know -what’s wrong?” -</p> - -<p> -Panting painfully, she leaned half out of the bed, still gripping his -hand with both hers, her eyes searching his face. Richard Ambrose, -hating a scene at least as much as most Englishmen, wriggled -uncomfortably. “Really, my dear, I don’t know—— Why”—with a sudden -bright idea—“I thought it was you who were disappointed. Give you my -word I did.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you had no business to. But what is it was wrong with me? It -ain’t as though you didn’t know what I was like. We had known one -another so long——” -</p> - -<p> -“True.” He carried the war boldly into the enemy’s country. “But it -was so long ago that I had forgot the changes time must bring. I had -lived too much alone: I was an old man before I was a young one. But -looking back, I thought—I hoped—I might succeed in making you happy. -I was mistaken, and by involving you in my mistake I wrought you an -irreparable injury.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose!” Eveleen was as easily diverted as a child. Her eyes filled -with tears, her lip trembled. “What are you saying—a mistake, injury? -That you have injured me, would you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t I know from your own lips that you are the most miserable woman -in the world?” he asked bitterly, but it must be confessed, with a -feeling of shame. -</p> - -<p> -“I didn’t say it! I did <i>not</i>! How can you——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, you did—at Qadirabad, five months ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if I did, I never meant it—y’ought to know that! You must -know—you couldn’t have believed it! Swear to me you did not, or I’ll -crawl out of bed and hold to your feet so you can’t get away!” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray don’t. It ain’t necessary. I’ll swear anything you choose. What -will old Mother Gibbons say to me for letting you agitate yourself -like this?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Gibbons is a dear sweet soul, and the heart of Dr Gibbons doth -safely trust in her, because she never runs up bills. Indeed, then, -she scolds him when he spends too much on cheroots. Would you have me -turn like her?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not—in that respect, at any rate.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I’ll tell you this—I’d rather be myself, and be scolded by you, -in your most shockingly cold style, than be like Mrs Gibbons—there! -Now, will you let me come back with you to Qadirabad?” -</p> - -<p> -“Good heavens!” he said helplessly. “Were the hysterics nothing but a -sham, then?” But he saw the perplexity in her eyes changing again into -poignant reproach, and hastened to make amends. -</p> - -<p> -“No, I’m a fool, forgive me. But you will allow it’s a bit difficult -for a man to follow you into a fresh mood every second minute—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“But why would I be in the same mood all the time?” in genuine -perplexity. He laughed shortly. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t know, I’m sure, my dear. Blame me as much as you like, but -judge me leniently when you find me slow. I was born like it, and have -very likely got worse.” -</p> - -<p> -He cut short her assurances that on no account would she have him the -least bit different by departing, on the plea that he feared a -scolding from Mrs Gibbons, and left to herself, Eveleen realised that -she was baffled still. The enigma was not solved, the barrier was -still between them. Compared with the good-comradely relations -existing between Dr and Mrs Gibbons, she and Richard were like -strangers feverishly struggling to behave as near friends. Perhaps, -after all, Richard was right, and nothing else was possible to him. It -was hardly likely he could change much at his age, and the more she -dashed herself against his defences the more uncomfortable and -embarrassed he would be. She must be calm, reasonable, <i>English</i>, if -they were to be happy together. “And how will I manage that?” she -asked herself dolefully. “I’ll try—if it’s only to please him, but -it’s a poor chance!” -</p> - -<p> -Whether from his own feelings alone, or assisted by Mrs Gibbons, -Richard had learnt his lesson. No more hysterics for him! He had taken -up his quarters at Government House—since Colonel Bayard had deputed -him to act as his representative in receiving Sir Henry Lennox when he -landed—and he paid his wife a visit punctiliously morning and -evening, but departed instantly if she showed the least sign of -becoming excited. Under this bracing treatment Eveleen improved -rapidly in health, and was promoted first to a couch on the verandah -and then to taking drives, and was even well enough to be allowed to -accompany her hostess to the shore to welcome the new ruler when he -arrived from Bombay. Everything seemed to conspire to spoil Sir -Henry’s first impression of Bab-us-Sahel. It was bad enough that his -steamer should have been compelled to anchor off the port the night -before, in imminent danger of running upon a reef in the darkness, and -it was undignified for the person invested with supreme military and -political power in Khemistan to be dragged in his boat through the -surf and up the beach by yelling coolies because the tide would not -allow of his landing at the pier. But the ladies watching from their -carriages opined that something more serious must be wrong as the -small bent figure, with dark glasses and long straggling beard, -hobbled up the shore. Sir Henry had brushed aside brusquely the -greetings of the officers awaiting him, and was giving sharp orders, -pointing now to the vessel pitching on the horizon, now to the -headlands on either side of the town. Something had to be done -instantly, that was clear, for not until two or three men had detached -themselves from the group, and mounted and ridden off in hot haste, -did he appear to remember his manners. -</p> - -<p> -“Sickness on board!” said Mrs Gibbons the experienced, noting that the -port surgeon was one of those who had ridden away. “Now I wonder what -it is—not cholera, I trust! I must see what beds——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but just wait till Sir Harry has passed!” urged Eveleen, in deep -disappointment. “We don’t <i>know</i> that it’s sickness. And you wouldn’t -make me cut my own brother? There he is—that’s Brian!” indicating a -youth whose tall form towered above that of the General, naturally -short and now bowed with rheumatism. Brian had a large mouth—expanded -further by a cheerful smile—and blue eyes like his sister’s, one of -them closed at the moment in a palpable wink. Eveleen was so much -taken up with responding to this greeting that she was surprised to -find her husband—portentously stiff and correct, as who should say, -“This is none of my doing!” bringing Sir Henry up to the carriage. The -General’s faded blue tunic might have been a relic of the Peninsula, -and he wore a curious helmet of his own invention instead of the -ordinary cap or shako with a linen cover and curtain. But the keen -eyes twinkling through the dark spectacles, and the enormous nose, -would have made him noticeable anywhere, quaint little figure though -he was. He saluted and bowed low as he approached the two ladies in -their best white gowns and flower-trimmed lace caps—Mrs Gibbons -solid, jolly, and dependable; Eveleen all on wires, quivering with -interest and excitement. -</p> - -<p> -“My chief pleasure in coming to Khemistan,” he said courteously, “was -the prospect of meeting Mrs Ambrose again, but I did not expect to -have the honour so soon.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but that’s because I have been here for the hot weather,” said -Eveleen eagerly. “But I may go up the river again with Ambrose, may I -not?” -</p> - -<p> -“So far as the matter rests with me, I shall be only too delighted,” -was the courtly reply, and it took all Eveleen’s self-control not to -cast a glance of triumph at her husband. -</p> - -<p> -“And how is Black Prince?” she enquired, seeking hastily for safer -themes. -</p> - -<p> -“A bit seedy just now—we have had a terrible voyage——” his face was -shadowed. “But he’ll soon shake that off.” Then the twinkle -reappeared. “But would not a well-conducted lady have enquired first -after my wife and the girls?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I never was that!” lamented Eveleen. “But I’ll do it, I’ll do it! -Pray, Sir Harry, has Lady Lennox forgiven me yet for teaching Sally to -jump?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think I may say she has—particularly since she believes Sally has -forgot the accomplishment.” -</p> - -<p> -“While all the time Sally’s naughty papa has been keeping it alive in -secret—eh, Sir Harry? Ah then, I know you, you see—and you and Sally -and I will have many a fine gallop yet. I’ve set up a little Arab I’d -like you to see——” -</p> - -<p> -“With all my heart—but not at present, I fear. Now I must reluctantly -bid——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but I must make known to you my kind friend Mrs Gibbons here, who -would be Chief Medical Officer if ladies could be doctors. She read in -your face that you had sickness on board while you were still far down -the strand.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, my dear lady!” there was no badinage now in the General’s -voice—“we don’t alarm our gentle friends with these sad matters, but -we have lost fifty-four men from cholera since leaving Bombay. That -was what detained me just now—giving orders for pitching a camp of -isolation immediately on the point yonder. I can do nothing till my -poor fellows are transferred there.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then Mrs Gibbons is the person you want!” triumphantly. “She has -already reckoned up in her mind how many beds she can put her finger -on in an hour.” -</p> - -<p> -The General shot a keen look at Mrs Gibbons’s composed face. “By Jove, -ma’am, you’re the woman for me! With your permission, I’ll send over -my own surgeon to consult with you immediately. Ladies, your servant!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Sir Harry!” cried Eveleen desperately as he turned away, “you’ll -be letting Brian—my brother—come to tiffin, or dinner, at any rate?” -</p> - -<p> -“Lieutenant Delany shall certainly pay his respects to Mrs Ambrose and -her hostess this evening”—again Brian’s eye sought his sister’s and -closed in a wink—“if his duties will allow. During the day he will be -continuously occupied.” -</p> - -<p> -“If I might suggest, sir——” they heard Richard’s voice as Sir Henry -stumbled off resolutely through the sand to the waiting horses. They -heard also the General’s answer. -</p> - -<p> -“No, sir, you may not suggest. There is far too much ‘suggesting’ -here. I take no suggestions from my subordinates.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch07"> -CHAPTER VII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE OLD ORDER CHANGES.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was late when Brian Delany found his way to Mrs Gibbons’s -bungalow, so late that the good lady herself—pardonably weary after a -long hot afternoon spent in looking up or improvising hospital -equipment in the company of surgeons ignorant of the limited resources -of the place—had begun to hint that invalids did well to go to bed -early. But when he was heard dismounting at the verandah steps, she -gave up her efforts in despair, contenting herself, as she took her -departure, with the threat that if Brian stayed more than half an -hour, she would get up again and come and turn him out. Eveleen hardly -heard her, so much engrossed was she in greeting her brother. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Brian?” sitting up eagerly as he came in. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, old Evie!” he stooped and kissed her. “Been more than a little -bit seedy—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, what do I signify? Let me look at you, Brian. D’ye know, I -believe you’re—grown!” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you listen to the woman! Grown, am I? Grown <i>thin</i>, my dear, -till you could count the bones of me!” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, then! You look far too well for that. But I do see, -indeed—yes, there’s a look of hardness——” -</p> - -<p> -“Hardness about me, would you say? No, indeed, but plenty about the -little old horror you went and handed me over to! Little I thought -’twas a slave I was to be, when you blarneyed me into trying to get -into the General’s family.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure it’s all for your good. You look twice the boy you did—twice -the man, I’d say.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you tell me that, now? And how many yards of aide-de-camp is the -General to entertain if we all stretch out this way? It’s not an -increase of length, I tell you, but a decrease of girth—a shocking -decrease!” -</p> - -<p> -“My poor fellow! You look starved, indeed!” -</p> - -<p> -“Starved, is it? That’s just what I am. How would you help it with a -chief that drinks water as soon as whisky, and can live happy on -country prog? No wine—no beer, even—on active service, and precious -little other times. And hates the smell of a weed——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, nonsense, nonsense! You mayn’t smoke?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not on service. At Poonah Stewart and I would get away by ourselves -when we couldn’t stand it any longer, and one keep ‘Cave!’ while -t’other indulged. But as often as not the old lad would be after us -before we were done.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, Brian, it’s a reformed character you’ll be, and no thanks to -yourself! And the poverty-stricken look that seems to hang about -you—what of that, now?” -</p> - -<p> -“That comes of wearing uniform always and all day long, my dear -creature. And when your coat gets shabby, why—‘Hang it, sir! have it -mended. An honest patch won’t shame either you or me, let me tell -you.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you’re not quite come to that yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“Am I not, indeed? This is my best coat, ma’am, put on to impress the -ladies on landing. And even in having two, I’m breaking my General’s -rules. What d’ye think is his allowance for a fellow on active -service? Why, just what he stands up in, and nothing else but a pair -of shoes, a second shirt and inexpressibles, a flannel waistcoat for -chilly weather, a towel, and a piece of soap!” -</p> - -<p> -“But what about coloured clothes?” -</p> - -<p> -“They’re snakes, I tell you, and he St Patrick! Whether you may wear -’em on leave, I don’t know, for I’ve had no leave since I’ve been with -him, but certainly not within a hundred miles of headquarters. A -shooting-jacket is ‘a deformity of dress,’ and as for a blouse”—this -was a kind of Norfolk coat made in thin materials—“if one met his -eye, believe me, he’d tear it off you and kick it out of the house. -Oh, he’s a holy terror, and no mistake!” -</p> - -<p> -“The very person you needed to take you in hand, my dear fellow! And -tell me, does he work you hard?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t he, just!” with a hollow groan. “From morning to night—day in, -day out—your nose is on the grindstone. ‘If I thought there was the -remotest chance of your studying,’ says he, ‘I’d allow you time for -it, the same as I do myself, but ’tis no use. So I’ll find you work -instead, just to keep you out of mischief.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure he’s the wise man! And what would he be studying?” -</p> - -<p> -“Marlborough, Frederick, the Duke—all those old codgers full of plans -of battles like starfishes, with a compass in the corner to show -they’re upside-down! Much good they’d do me or anybody! I’d want to -get them up-sided first, and then they’d be all wrong. And some great -little old Latin book that he hammers bits out of at meals and all -sorts of times, with Alexander’s campaigns in it—for an example and -an incitement, says he.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll be a wonder by the time he’s done with you! And the -work—what’s that like?” -</p> - -<p> -“Like galloping hell-for-leather through the heat to surprise some -wretched barracks where they ain’t prepared for inspection. And -turning everything topsy-turvy, and hauling everybody over the coals, -and putting up the private soldiers to make complaints, and swearing -till all is blue that there ain’t an officer in the place fit to hold -his commission, and the C.O. and the surgeon ought to be drummed out -of the Army with ignominy! Oh, I tell you they love him down there!” -Brian waved a hand in a direction supposed to be that of Bombay. -</p> - -<p> -“You have great times indeed! Don’t you enjoy it all?” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you! To see a poor wretch of a private trying hard to think -of some grievances, with one eye on the General, who’s so anxious for -’em, and t’other on his own officer, who’s safe to pass on to him the -wigging he gets—it’s rich! But it ain’t what you may call fair play. -Why, the very first thing I was taught when I got into the regiment -was that an officer must never permit a private soldier an interview -without he was full dressed and accompanied by a sergeant. But the -General swears an officer must be accessible to his men day and -night—in their shirt-sleeves if they choose—and no sergeant within a -mile of ’em. D’ye wonder no one knows how he stands?” -</p> - -<p> -“’Twas like that when they fought in Spain, I suppose.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, no doubt; but this is India, and peace time. Not that I’d quarrel -with anything that made people more friendly, but when you have to -unlearn all you were ever taught——! It’s mad about the men the old -lad is. The officers may go hang, but every private is his good -comrade. The letters they send him! you’d laugh, I tell you—where you -didn’t cry! Well, there y’are now; what d’ye expect these old colonels -and brigadiers, who have spent all their lives in India, to think of -it?” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean they would not be pleased?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pleased? Sure they hate the General as heartily as he hates them. And -he hates the Civilians worse. And if there is anything he hates worse -than a Civilian, it’s a Political. So now you see why it’s Old Harry -and the rank and file against the Services and all the old Indians -everywhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, if he hates the Politicals—I heard him catch up Ambrose in the -horridest way—— But how can he——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, he don’t mean it a bit. If you sit mum and let him rage over your -head, he’ll be smiling sweetly on you in another five minutes. But if -you give it him back—my word, won’t he kick up a dust! And if you -bear malice, so can he—for ever and ever. He’s the drollest old -chap—like a child in some ways. You tip Ambrose the wink not to -answer him back, and not to use Persian words in speaking or writing -to him—he boasts he don’t understand a syllable of anything but plain -English—and they’ll get on like a house afire.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Brian, he ain’t accustomed——” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear creature, he’s got to get accustomed—or be broke. I do hope -he and Bayard and all the fellows here ain’t going to get their noses -in the air. If they do, the General will rub ’em tidily in the dust -for ’em, and enjoy doing it. But if they’ll just take a little pains -to keep on his soft side—and no man has a softer—we’ll all be the -happiest family in the world.” -</p> - -<p> -“You will have found the soft side, then?” -</p> - -<p> -“With intervals, my dear creature—with intervals. Explosions, let us -say, which take you by surprise all the more because you have been -getting on so uncommon well the moment before. But I’m the lucky chap; -only once have I been regularly blown sky-high—and that was your -fault.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s trying to tease me y’are, you rude boy.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it. I was riding with him one day—up hill, so for once -we couldn’t gallop, and the old fellow began to do the paternal—bad -luck to him!—enquire into my private affairs, and so on. I was -shaking in my shoes for fear what he might be asking next, when he -suddenly comes out with the question how I got the money to pay my -debts. ‘Oh, glory!’ says I, ‘safe this time, at any rate!’ and told -him ’twas from my sister. And then there was a sort of earthquake and -eruption of Vesuvius all in one, and me lying in little bits at the -bottom. ‘Will you tell me,’ says he at the end, precious stern, ‘how -y’ever dared face me after sponging on a female to get the means to -enter my family?’ ‘And where would I get it,’ says I, plucking up -courage for very desperation, ‘only from the woman from whom I’ve had -everything since she first took care of me as an infant?’” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s my dear boy!” Eveleen beamed on him. “I wouldn’t ask you to -say better than that.” -</p> - -<p> -“He saw it—I’ll grant him that—but he was uncommon stiff with me -still. ‘And how much have you paid her back by now?’ he lets out at me -all of a sudden. ‘Why, nothing, General!’ says I, astonished. ‘That, -at least, we can put right,’ says he. ‘Fifty rupees a month, my fine -fellow—and the first month you’re behindhand is your last away from -your regiment.’ I swear to you I thought it cheap at the moment! -Permit me, ma’am, to tender you payment of the first three months’ -instalments.” With a low bow he presented a slip of paper. -</p> - -<p> -“As if I’d touch it, then! But I’ll always be proud——” -</p> - -<p> -“You must touch it, and take it and keep it, if you don’t want me -kicked out. Sure I’d lose more than you think——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, well, Ambrose will be pleased. ’Twas his money, after all,” -languidly. “And will you tell me, Mr Brian Delany”—with sudden -animation—“what it is you’d lose if you went back to your regiment? -You have not been falling in love, now? Brian!” with tremendous -certainty, “you have dared to make love to Lucy Lennox? Oh dear, oh -dear! these boys! What will they be doing next?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not guilty, ma’am! Listen to me now. Stewart it is that’s sweet on -Miss Lucy, and I playing gooseberry for them time and time again. So -there!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, go on with you. What about yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll break my heart laughing at me.” But Eveleen read in the tone -that Brian was at least as eager to confess as she was to hear. -</p> - -<p> -“You know I won’t. Tell me, now. It can’t be Sally?” -</p> - -<p> -“Sally it is. Sally’s the girl for my money.” -</p> - -<p> -“But she’s nothing but a little bit of a child yet. Is it thirteen she -is—or fourteen?” -</p> - -<p> -“How’d I know—or care? That child is as old—as ancient. ‘My wise -little Sally,’ her papa calls her, and she turns the stubborn old -ruffian round her finger as easy as winkin’. And to hear her lecture -your brother, my dear creature you’d think she was her own -grandmother! Give her a year or two, and I’ll marry her without so -much as a ‘by your leave!’ even if General is G.-G. by that time!” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps she won’t have you, my dear fellow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then it’s a bachelor I’ll be all my born days. Do you take me, ma’am? -It’s a case! What in the world’s that?” -</p> - -<p> -“That” was a nightcapped head—the body presumably attached thereto -remaining discreetly out of sight—which appeared at a doorway. -“Three-quarters of an hour!” said a sepulchral voice. “And Mrs Ambrose -still an invalid. Mr Delany, will you be so good as to return to your -quarters, and let your sister go to bed?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will, ma’am, I will!” Brian winked largely at Eveleen. “I’m a sad -fellow to have brought you here to turn me out, but ask my sister if -all I’ve told her ain’t worth it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Begone, graceless wretch!” Eveleen was quoting from the -melodrama—miscalled historical—recently staged by the Bab-us-Sahel -Dramatic Club, and Brian, recognising the style common to melodrama, -answered in the same vein. -</p> - -<p> -“Cruel but virtuous dame, at thy command I go!” and went. -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -The few days which covered Sir Henry Lennox’s sojourn at Bab-us-Sahel -were well filled. He saw the outbreak of cholera stamped out, he -reviewed the troops, he set on foot plans for improving the landing -conditions, providing a water-supply, and laying out large vegetable -gardens, with a view to preventing the scurvy from which the garrison -suffered. For the present a ration of lime-juice was to be served out, -but it was clear, from the arrangements made for the future, that the -town was to remain in British hands, and knowing people opined once -more that Sir Harry’s visit was to end in the annexation of Khemistan. -This did not appear to be his own opinion, however. He was come, he -said quite frankly, to make the Khans keep their treaties—with such -modification as might seem called for. He had not come to fight, and -he did not for a moment believe that the Khans would provoke a -rupture, but he was quite certain he was going to put an end to the -anomalous condition of things that had obtained hitherto. It was in -his mind, also, that the large British force at Sahar—far up the -river—must be badly in need of inspection by a competent authority, -and this need it was his purpose to supply. The requirements of -Bab-us-Sahel having therefore been observed, noted and pigeon-holed at -lightning speed, the General set out on his way up the river. To the -relief of Richard Ambrose, who had been rather inclined to fear, from -the tone of his references to the Khans, that his mode of dealing with -them would be to knock their heads together and bid them listen to -reason, Sir Harry consented to pay a visit of ceremony to Qadirabad in -the course of his journey. Thus it was only natural that he should -offer the Ambroses a passage in his steamer, since the Khans might -well feel alarmed if he was not accompanied by any representative of -their friend Colonel Bayard, and Eveleen and her husband returned up -the river in state. -</p> - -<p> -Unfortunately, the added grandeur did nothing to mitigate the -inconveniences of the voyage, but the General himself was so -absolutely unconscious of these that no one else durst refer to them. -Eveleen had her tent on deck as before, and having once made certain -that such comfort as was possible was secured to her, Sir Harry -dismissed the subject from his mind. If they had only been privates, -the officers on board confided ruefully to one another, the General -would have thought no pains too much to make them comfortable, but the -higher ranks were expected to be content with the meagre accommodation -that sufficed for himself. To the honour of his staff be it said that -they loved him too much to grumble at hardships shared with him, and -it must be confessed that no one who did not love him could have -remained in his family for a week. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen studied him appreciatively day by day, but from a point of -view other than that of the quaint companionship of Mahabuleshwar. -Half unconsciously, she had acquired something of the Anglo-Indian -attitude of mind in her sojourn up the country, and it helped her to -understand the alarm and dislike with which he was viewed by old -Indians generally. It was perfectly true that he knew nothing of -India, and prided himself on the fact, which in some curious way he -had brought himself to regard as a merit. In fact, ignorance of India -seemed to him an essential qualification for dealing successfully with -Indian affairs—a conviction shared with him by many less -simple-hearted egoists both before and since. Curiously enough, he was -always on the watch to pick up information about things -Indian—historical, geological, agricultural, linguistic,—but the -information must be surprised and as it were snatched from the people -who knew, at moments when they were off their guard. Not only did he -keep his eyes open, but he was not too proud to confess he had been -mistaken. The little book on the Campaigns of Alexander, to which -Brian had alluded, was his constant companion, and he had succeeded to -his own complete satisfaction in reconstructing the itinerary of the -Greek forces, and identifying the various places mentioned with -existing towns. But the whole scheme collapsed under the shock of the -discovery that the river was wont to change its course from year to -year—sometimes from month to month—and that it would be unreasonable -to expect to find a town where it had stood a century ago, much more -two thousand years. This was a severe blow, and for a day or two the -little book was less in evidence. Brian and Eveleen asked one another -wickedly whether the report on the condition of Khemistan—which Sir -Harry was compiling at alarming length—would likewise prove to be -founded on imagination rather than knowledge of the country, but by -degrees they began to perceive a method in the little man’s madness, -and to watch for the lightning questions by means of which he would -inform himself. -</p> - -<p> -The fame of the General had reached Qadirabad before him, and the -anxiety of the Khans to produce a good impression was shown by their -assiduity in offering him a welcome. A high official was deputed to -meet the steamer before it came in sight of the city, and the river -bank was studded with bearers of enormous trays of sweetmeats, so many -from each Khan. At the Residency other officials were waiting, with -more sweetmeats and a polite offering of ten fat sheep, and it was -clear to Richard and his colleagues of the Agency that the rulers were -both puzzled and nervous. Here was an abrupt little man of terrible -aspect, reputed to be the most ferocious fighter Europe could produce, -and a disciple—if not a relative—of the world-famous Wellington. He -was armed with vague powers—all that was known was that they were -greater than those of any General who had hitherto visited the -country,—but how he meant to use them no one could say. It was not -even known whether he and the Resident Sahib were friends or -enemies—bitterly did the Khans regret that the two men had not met, -that sharp eyes unseen might have observed and reported their -demeanour—nor whether the Resident was still in authority or not. The -one obvious thing seemed to be to make sure of the favour of the -alarming Unknown, and the obvious way of doing it was to show him -every possible honour. A scarlet palanquin of state, with green velvet -cushions, was sent to convey him to the Fort, his staff and that of -the Agency following on richly-caparisoned camels. Besides his own -escort of fifty Khemistan Horse, he had a guard of honour of Arabit -Sardars and their retainers, and at the city gate the younger -Khans—each in his palanquin—met him and escorted him in. Curious -crowds fought for a sight of him and acclaimed him enthusiastically, -and as he mounted the rise to the gateway of the Fort every one -salamed to the ground. Khemistan was doing its best to conciliate the -intruder. -</p> - -<p> -“And how did he get on with them at all?” asked Eveleen eagerly of her -husband, when the procession had returned, and he was thankfully -divesting himself of the trappings of full dress. -</p> - -<p> -“So-so. He meant to be all that was charming, but he hasn’t a notion -how to take ’em, and they don’t know what to make of him. He looks -upon ’em as a set of children, because they would have his spectacles -passed round for ’em all to try on, and that’s how he talks to ’em. Of -course the Munshi put all he said into proper form, but they judge by -the tone much more than the words. That dry hard way he has of barking -things out was what impressed ’em, I could see, though he was trying -his utmost to put them at their ease. They don’t like him, and they’re -precious frightened of him—that’s about it, I should say.” -</p> - -<p> -“If only the Colonel had been here, now!” sighed Eveleen. Richard -looked at her queerly. -</p> - -<p> -“What good would that have done? He couldn’t have shortened this man’s -huge beak, or got him to go about without spectacles—which frighten -them because they think his eyes are so savage that he wears ’em to -deaden the expression,—or made him speak soft and slow. It ain’t in -the old chap, and he don’t know enough about India to try and -cultivate it if he hasn’t got it. And they know well enough that he’s -been sent here over Bayard’s head—the only thing they can’t make out -yet is whether they’re in it together or not.” -</p> - -<p> -If Sir Harry were aware of the alarming impression he had produced, he -showed no sign of it, but continued his journey up the river the next -day, leaving with Richard the letter which was to call the Khans’ -attention to the breaches of treaty of which they had been guilty, and -the advisability of mending their ways forthwith. At Sahar he was to -be met by Colonel Bayard, who had been enjoying himself vastly—free -from the responsibility and respectability of the Agency—in his -mission to the wild country on the Ethiopian border. He had made long -journeys on camel-back in disguise, provided for the safety and -sustenance of the British force retiring from Iskandarbagh, settled -various outstanding matters in connection with the small state of -Nalapur—and incidentally embroiled himself with the Governor-General, -who was a bad person to quarrel with. The occasion was the affairs of -Nalapur. Not only did Lord Maryport consider Colonel Bayard had -exceeded his powers in reorganising the government—that was merely -presumption,—but he accused him of deluding the durbar deliberately -by laying claim to powers he knew he did not possess, and then indeed -Colonel Bayard was touched in his tenderest point. An acrimonious -correspondence was in progress, of which he assured himself happily -that he had so far carried off all the honours; but the drawback in -quarrelling with authority is that authority is always in a position -to have the last word—and that word had not yet been spoken. Both -Colonel Bayard and his friends—to whom he read or repeated what he -considered the most telling portions of his letters—forgot this, and -when the news came that Sir Harry Lennox and he had taken a fancy to -one another at first sight, and were working together in the most -amicable way, the Political Establishment in Khemistan forgot its -fears, and settled down contentedly in the conviction that, after all, -things were going on much in the old way. -</p> - -<p> -The Khans also were hugging this amiable delusion to their souls. -Richard was kept busy with visiting them and receiving their Vakils, -now delivering the papers sent to him from Sahar for the purpose, and -then transmitting the answers. Knowing Colonel Bayard to be their -friend—though without feeling it necessary to requite his friendship -otherwise than in word,—they were quite happy since he still remained -in the country, and bent all their energies, which were small, and -their ingenuity, which was infinite, to the task of enabling him on -their behalf to hoodwink the intruder. With the aid of a judicious -rattling together of shields and tulwars—to give the hint of -unpleasant possibilities in the background if things were pressed to -extremities—they looked forward to tiding over this crisis as they -had done others. Richard was a good deal worried by their attitude. He -could not bring them to realise that they had a second person—and a -very different one—to deal with now, and whenever he tried it they -replied with the warlike demonstrations intended especially for the -General’s benefit. It was quite certain that there was an unusual -amount of coming and going about the Fort. Fresh bands of Arabit -horsemen seemed to be arriving continually, and while some of them -departed again, others remained. Moreover, Richard doubted very much -whether those who went away returned to Arabitistan. From the reports -brought him by his spies, he believed that they were reinforcements -for the garrisons of the desert fortresses of which the Khans boasted -as unreachable and impregnable, and from which Sahar itself might be -assailed in case of need. He could only pass on his observations to -Sir Harry, and try to convince the Khans of the seriousness of the -situation, while doing his utmost to bring them to reason by peaceful -means. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen had returned from Bab-us-Sahel full of good resolutions, -determined to take Mrs Gibbons as her model from henceforth. She would -never want to ride at unorthodox hours—virtue was assisted in this -respect by the heat,—and she would benefit society by starting a -farmyard and kitchen-garden. Unfortunately for her good intentions, -Qadirabad was a very different place from Bab-us-Sahel, since mutton, -poultry, and vegetables were all easy to get. She relinquished with a -sigh the idea of a sheep-farm and chicken-run, but a garden she would -have, and achieved—with the aid of the Residency <i>mali</i> and his -underlings—success of a sort. The <i>mali</i> had an unfair advantage in -the perpetual contests waged between them, since he knew his own mind -and did not change it from day to day, while Eveleen’s continual -visions of newer and better arrangements led to weird apparitions of -onions in the flower-beds and violets among the lettuces. Happily the -<i>mali</i> was able, with conscious rectitude, to show that he had a -proper supply of vegetables coming on in regions to which the Beebee -had not penetrated, and instead of starving the Agency staff, Eveleen -escaped with a good deal of teasing on her peculiar horticultural -tastes. But those who had planted the garden were not destined to eat -its fruits. -</p> - -<p> -“Sure there’s a steamer coming down the river!” Running out on the -verandah dressed for the evening ride, Eveleen stood still to listen. -“Ambrose, d’ye hear?” -</p> - -<p> -“A steamer to-day? Nonsense!” cried Richard, joining her hastily. “No, -by Jove, it is!” -</p> - -<p> -“What will it be, I wonder?” in much excitement. “Oh, send the horses -back, and let us go down to the strand.” -</p> - -<p> -Other people joined them as they neared the path down the low cliff on -which the Residency stood, and waited on the landing-stage. The -<i>Asteroid</i> came round the bend with the light of the setting sun full -on her. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now; if it’s not the Resident!” cried Eveleen, as a figure on -the paddle-box took off his hat and waved it to the group in the -shadows. “He must be invalided. See how ill he looks!” -</p> - -<p> -“As if you could tell at this distance!” said Richard, in his superior -way; but as the steamer drew round to the landing-stage, he had to -acknowledge that Colonel Bayard did look very ill. -</p> - -<p> -“That attack of fever we heard of will likely have been worse than we -knew. He must go to bed at once.” Eveleen spoke with all the -determination of Mrs Gibbons herself, and Colonel Bayard, hurrying to -shake hands with them as soon as he set foot on shore, heard her. -</p> - -<p> -“What have I done, Mrs Ambrose, that I am to be sent to bed like a -naughty child? I know there are plenty of people who have the worst -possible opinion of me, but I didn’t expect to find them here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure it’s for your own sake,” she said seriously. “You don’t look fit -to be up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Morally I may not be, but physically I assure you I am. But I have -had a heavy time this hot weather, and no doubt it’s told upon me. And -I have had a bit of a blow just lately.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” said Richard quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes—to make a long story short, I am remanded to my regiment.” -</p> - -<p> -They stopped in climbing the path, and looked at him incredulously. -Colonel Bayard, the prince of Politicals, deprived of his acting rank -and sent back to do duty with native infantry! The man who had ruled -kingdoms and dispensed lakhs was to return to a despised calling and -its scanty pay. He read their horrified amazement in their eyes, and -raised his hand brusquely. -</p> - -<p> -“No, don’t pity me too much; keep a little for yourselves. I wish I -were the only person affected, but the fact is—the Political -Establishment is dissolved.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dissolved?” echoed Richard hoarsely. -</p> - -<p> -“Destroyed, broken up, cast aside, kicked out. By the fiat of my Lord -Maryport, without the ghost of a reason given.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lennox!” the word sounded like a curse. Colonel Bayard saw Eveleen’s -mute gesture of protest, and smiled at her. -</p> - -<p> -“No, Mrs Ambrose, you are right. Old Harry had nothing to do with -it—was as much taken aback as I was. He told me frankly he had been -on the point of writing to recommend the reduction of the Agency, but -certainly not its abolition. Like all those bustling energetic people -just out from home, he thinks we do nothing for our money. Let him -wait till he has had two or three hot weathers in Khemistan! At any -rate, his view of it is that we spend our time drinking beer and -smoking cheroots”—with a rather conscious laugh, for his friends -would hardly have recognised him without a fat cigar in his -mouth,—“and occasionally signing the papers our black clerks bring -us, and he is going to work without any clerks at all. You will be the -victim of his economy, Richard. Even he acknowledges that he must have -some sort of political officer to consult when he’s quite out of his -depth, so I put in a word for you.” -</p> - -<p> -“As though I would stay here a day without you!” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear fellow, you must. You are married, you have your wife -here——” he smiled again at Eveleen as she looked back at him from -the verandah steps with brimming eyes. “You can’t take her back to -your regiment. The life would kill her. It ain’t as if she were a -young girl,” he added in a whisper before he followed. -</p> - -<p> -“True; she ain’t a young girl.” The tone was savage, but Richard knew -his friend was right. A girl who knew India, brought up by a managing -mother accustomed to Indian ways, might have faced the life which had -been his for so many painful years; but Eveleen, knowing as little of -the country as she did of method and contrivance—what would there be -before her but a miserable struggle ending in ruined health and -spirits for both? He was not free to cut loose from Khemistan. -</p> - -<p> -“So you must swallow the bitter pill, you see,” Colonel Bayard was -saying as they mounted the steps, “and do what you can for my poor -Khans from a distance. By the bye, I didn’t tell you that—this place -is to be closed for the present; you are to go up to Sahar. I shall -have to break it all to them to-morrow. I couldn’t go down the river -without bidding ’em farewell, but it will be one of the hardest things -I have ever done.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch08"> -CHAPTER VIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">TOO CLEVER BY HALF.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">For</span> the last time!” said Colonel Bayard, with a comical glance of -self-pity at Richard, as they rode out the next morning preceded by -the chobdars with their silver sticks and followed by the barbaric -escort. -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it! You’ll never be left mud-crawling with a black -regiment. The G.-G. will find out his mistake in no time, and send for -you back.” -</p> - -<p> -“It would take a good deal to make him do that. I was promised the -Agency for the down-river states when he sent Lennox here, but there’s -no word of it now. Don’t look so shockingly cut up, Richard. I tell -you it’s a release from bondage for me, after the <i>lacquey</i> way I have -been treated this summer by his lordship—bandied about like a -racquet-ball! Old Lennox would have kept me on as his personal -assistant—doing the deed first and getting permission afterwards—if -I would have stayed; but I asked for furlough instead, and he put the -<i>Asteroid</i> at my disposal to take me down the river in the handsomest -way. A singular character, that old chap, but a thorough good fellow.” -</p> - -<p> -“I hear he spoke very properly of you at the dinner they gave you -before starting.” -</p> - -<p> -“Properly? Nay, I assure you I didn’t know where to look. I might have -been Scipio Africanus and Sir Philip Sidney rolled into one, instead -of a failed Political going back to his regiment a poorer man than -when he left it twenty years ago. By the bye, I don’t know whether I -am in order in taking the <i>sowari</i> [retinue] with me to-day. Merely a -private individual now, I suppose.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not till you have left Khemistan, surely! If Sir Henry’s attitude is -as generous as you say, he couldn’t grudge you the ordinary marks of -respect.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ay, but to him they ain’t ordinary, and he means to put an end to -’em. He has no chobdars himself, and he’s going to abolish these. An -escort he can tolerate—but only on state occasions, of -course—because it can follow him at a gallop, but fellows walking in -front of him and making him ride slow—never!” -</p> - -<p> -“How does he ever expect to impress these people?” said Richard -bitterly. “They won’t have an atom of respect for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you should hear him on the subject. He thinks we can’t compete -with the Indians in matters of show and state, so he won’t try. They -will be more impressed by seeing we can do without every single thing -they care about, so he says. And I’m bound to say he lives up to his -theories. I thought so when I dined with him—privately, I mean; not -the <i>burra khana</i>—and found everything camp-fashion. The plates and -dishes and so on came out of his canteens—he takes a couple about -with him so as to be able to give dinner-parties, he told me—and what -d’ye think was the principal thing on the table? Why, pork chops and -common bazar stuff at that—and the old chap tucking into them with -real gusto and pressing ’em on me!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if he can survive that sort of thing, he ought certainly to -impress the Khans,” said Richard drily. “But it’s a pity he don’t stay -here under their eye, for they ain’t impressed a bit at present.” -</p> - -<p> -But in this he was wrong, as appeared speedily. Due notice had been -sent to the Fort of Colonel Bayard’s desire to pay a farewell visit to -their Highnesses, and the proper message of welcome received in -return. But the message was couched in terms more flowery and formal -than quite suited the intimate relations which had prevailed between -the Resident and his charges, and there was no sign on the road of the -messengers who should have met the procession at stated points and -implored the visitor to hasten, since he alone could pour the -snow-cooled sherbet of delight into the parched mouth of expectation. -The reason for this lapse from good manners appeared on the visitors’ -arrival at the Fort, for it seemed that a sudden illness had -prostrated the ruling family at one blow. One Khan after another for -whom Colonel Bayard enquired was declared to be sick, the attendants -adding intimate and distressing details on a scale that did credit to -their memories—or possibly their imaginations. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, let them alone!” said Richard, in a hasty whisper. “They funk -meeting you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why should they funk meeting me? Nay”—to the embarrassed -attendants,—“if their Highnesses are indeed so ill, I must postpone -my journey, for I could not dream of leaving Khemistan while those who -have been to me as sons are lying between life and death. I will send -my own physician to visit them, and I myself will spend each day at -the Palace, that I may be at hand the moment they call for me.” -</p> - -<p> -Hurried consultations ensued, messengers came and went, and at last -the chief spokesman advanced again. “Let the Resident Sahib be pleased -to enter. Rather than force him to delay his departure, and incur the -wrath of his lord the General Sahib”—Colonel Bayard stiffened -perceptibly,—“their Highnesses will bedew the blossoms of affection -with the tears of regret even at the risk of their health.” -</p> - -<p> -He paused for a moment to see whether the visitor would take the hint, -then sighed and led the way in. Apparently the Khans thought it safer -to receive their fallen friend in a body, for the official disregarded -Colonel Bayard’s request to be allowed to pay his respects to them -separately, which would have seemed more natural. If they did not -appear to be sick, at any rate they all looked very sorry for -themselves when he and his assistant faced at last the row of seated -figures on their cushions. Long wadded coats concealed their pleated -muslin tunics and wide silk trousers, and the only touch of brightness -was given by the gay kincob which covered their flowerpot-shaped caps. -As politeness demanded, one and all declared that the mere sight of -the fortunate face of the Resident Sahib had instantly banished all -traces of illness, and then hurried on to enquire whether he also was -well and prosperous. The formalities of salutation, perfunctory though -they might be, took some time when each Khan had to be addressed and -to reply separately, and it was beginning to look as though the whole -interview would be occupied with such matters, when Sir Henry Lennox’s -health and prosperity came under discussion as well. The example was -set by Gul Ali Khan, the venerable white-bearded head of the family, -whose memory went back to the days of conquest, when the wild band of -Arabit chieftains had swooped down from their fastnesses upon -Khemistan, and dispossessing the native rulers, reigned in their -stead. He was the last survivor of the conquerors, and wore with -dignity the turban which proclaimed him Chief of his house—the -coveted emblem which would not descend to the son for whom he would -fain have secured it, but to an interloper, the son of his father’s -old age. This interloper, Shahbaz Khan, a handsome dapper -man—absurdly young-looking to be the brother of the aged Gul Ali—sat -beside him, and took up the strain of affectionate enquiry. For the -Khans positively overflowed with anxiety for the General’s health, and -their enquiries were couched in such terms of affection that even -Colonel Bayard—loath as he was to believe it—could not mistake their -drift. His day was over and done with; Sir Henry Lennox was the rising -sun. -</p> - -<p> -It was a bitter pill, but Colonel Bayard would not have been himself -had he not done his best to take advantage of this new loyalty to -influence his faithless charges for their good. When all the questions -all the Khans could think of on Sir Henry’s affairs had been asked and -answered, and before they could start on those of the -Governor-General, he interposed a courteous hope that their admiration -for the General’s character would make it easy for them to satisfy him -on the subject of the breaches of treaty. Instantly a change that -might be felt passed over them, as though each face had withdrawn -itself behind a veil. Gul Ali answered with dignity— -</p> - -<p> -“The Resident Sahib need not fear. The treaties we have made we shall -keep, provided the English keep theirs.” -</p> - -<p> -This did not sound very hopeful to the man who had been trying in vain -for so long to get them to keep those very treaties, but Colonel -Bayard answered politely— -</p> - -<p> -“Of that your Highnesses need have no fear while matters are in the -hands of the General. I rejoice to be able to leave Khemistan with all -difficulties so happily arranged.” -</p> - -<p> -Gul Ali’s expression was a little fatuous, as he said like an -automaton, “The treaties we have made we shall keep, but we will sign -no new treaty.” -</p> - -<p> -Since it was known to Colonel Bayard that Lord Maryport intended to -impose new and stricter obligations on the Khans, owing to their -persistent breaches of former treaties, he did not feel able to say -more than—“It is not for me to anticipate what the General may have -to say to your Highnesses, but if the old treaties are kept there will -certainly be no need for a new one.” -</p> - -<p> -Khair Husain Khan, a clever-looking man with rather Jewish features, -interposed. “The English pledged themselves not to interfere in any -way with our rights over our own subjects. To that we hold!” -triumphantly. -</p> - -<p> -“Yet is it well for your Highnesses so to treat your subjects that -they flee to the protection of the English?” -</p> - -<p> -“If they do, we will have them back!” put in young Kamal-ud-din -arrogantly. “Yes, even if they have to be torn from the hem of the -General Sahib’s skirts!” -</p> - -<p> -This, or something like it, was the Khans’ latest exploit, since their -officials had invaded the boundaries of the Sahar Cantonment, and -dragged away a number of unfortunates who had sought refuge there from -their oppressors. But it seemed to be recognised that this was going -rather far, for Khair Husain said hastily, with a soothing wave of the -hand— -</p> - -<p> -“The wretches had failed to pay their taxes, as the Resident Sahib -knows. If they were allowed to escape, all Khemistan would seek an -asylum with the British.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why did they fail to pay?” asked Colonel Bayard boldly. “Was it -not because it was known they had amassed riches, and their taxes were -so much increased as to strip them of all?” -</p> - -<p> -Gul Ali laughed complacently. “True—quite true. It is not well for -subjects to grow rich, for they become troublesome. If they heap up -wealth, it must be for their masters.” -</p> - -<p> -“Since this is the last time I shall see the face of your Highnesses, -let me beg once more that you will look at this matter differently. It -is all of a piece with your imposing tolls designed to kill the -traffic on the river. A wealthy people is an honour and a strong -support to princes, and the making of money by honest means should be -encouraged, not hindered.” The black looks bent on Colonel Bayard made -him pause, and he added, with some emotion, “Your Highnesses will not -hear me, I see. But let me entreat you to listen to the General, -though his tongue be strange, and he neglect the forms of ceremony I -have always been careful to use. Should he propose an interview, speak -to him plainly of what is in your hearts. He will do this in any case, -for it is not his custom to disguise his meaning.” -</p> - -<p> -Gul Ali rode off hastily upon a side-issue. “It is not well to meet -the envoys of the Farangis in consultation nowadays,” he said. “There -was a certain Ethiopian Sardar who did so.” -</p> - -<p> -The taunt was a bitter one—and worse, deserved,—for at the outset of -the Ethiopian disasters the British Envoy, struggling desperately in -the toils cast about him, had stooped to invite the foremost of his -assailants to a conference, with the intention of making him a -prisoner. In the remotest corners of Asia stray Englishmen were to rue -the attempt for many a day, though the Envoy had paid with his life -for trying to use the weapons of men better acquainted with them than -he. But it had been cast in Colonel Bayard’s teeth before, and he met -it with a bold counter-attack. -</p> - -<p> -“True, Khan Sahib, and it was not the Sardar who suffered. Had the -treachery been his, would it have surprised you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, but it was the Elchi Sahib’s!” came in chorus. -</p> - -<p> -“And he paid the penalty. But has such treachery never been known in -Khemistan?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never on the part of a Farangi!” promptly. -</p> - -<p> -“I thank your Highnesses in the name of my country. Has it ever been -known of any Farangi anywhere?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never until now. But what one Farangi has done, another may do.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think not. The Elchi’s deed has been condemned by every Farangi who -heard of it. I know of none who would imitate it—least of all the -General.” -</p> - -<p> -“He had better not!” cried Kamal-ud-din rudely. “He comes to Khemistan -with a few hundred white soldiers, who are even now dying fast of -sicknesses great and small, while our armies are numbered by -thousands, and they are growing every day. Should he seek to defy or -betray us, death such as the Elchi met with will be the least thing he -has to fear.” -</p> - -<p> -Astonished and displeased, Colonel Bayard made as if to rise from his -chair. “I must ask leave of your Highnesses to retire——” he was -beginning, but Shahbaz Khan interposed hastily. -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, this is shameful talk! O my brother, is it to go forth to the -world that the Khans of Khemistan permitted such things to be said in -their hearing concerning their father and protector, the Bahadar -Jang?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, nay!” said Gul Ali timorously. “Youth speaks with the tongue of -youth, which is headstrong and foolish. The General Sahib will know -how to regard the folly.” -</p> - -<p> -The mildness of the rebuke gave Kamal-ud-din fresh courage. “The -General Sahib has nothing to fear if he comes to us in peace and -openness of mind,” he said sullenly, “But who is he that we must guard -our tongues when speaking of his greatness? He may call himself -Bahadar Jang” [<i>valiant in fight</i>]—this was one of the polite -epithets employed by the Khans in his interview with them which Sir -Harry, who was not a conspicuously modest man, save in the presence of -the fair sex or the Duke of Wellington, had accepted with some -complacency as merely appropriate,—“but in all his years of warfare -he has not taken spoil enough to put a single diamond in his -sword-hilt!” -</p> - -<p> -“Farangi Generals don’t go to war for the sake of loot,” said Colonel -Bayard. “Any spoil the General Sahib might take he would present to -his and my august mistress, the Queen of England.” He turned slightly -to bow towards the large engraving of the young Queen which hung -crookedly on the wall—suggesting that it had been put there hurriedly -when the interview was found inevitable—very sleek of hair, very -lofty of brow, sweetly simpering as to expression, and obviously -overburdened with a headgear recalling the mural crown of antiquity. -Richard followed his example, and the Khans salamed perfunctorily. The -words seemed to have given them a new idea. -</p> - -<p> -“Then the rulers of Farangistan also do not like their subjects to be -too rich,” chuckled Gul Ali. -</p> - -<p> -“To strip a conqueror of his booty is poor policy,” said Kamal-ud-din -with a fine air of detachment. “My Sardars will always be allowed to -keep what they win.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lest, being robbed of their due by their own master, they should seek -it at the hands of his enemies,” said his cousin Karimdâd, going a -step further. The prudent Khair Husain pulled them up hastily. -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, nay; what foolish talk is this? Did not the General Sahib refuse -at our hands the great gift we offered him, though the Lât Sahibs who -visited us before accepted a lesser one?” -</p> - -<p> -This was another of Colonel Bayard’s troubles—the simplicity with -which two Generals fresh from home had accepted the large sums of -money ceremonially offered them on their way up the river towards -Ethiopia. Apparently no one who knew the interpretation that would be -placed upon their action had liked to warn them of it, with the result -that the two wholly innocent soldiers were regarded by the Khans as -their pensioners for the future. He took refuge in sententious -generalities. -</p> - -<p> -“It was taught me in my youth that the richest man is he who has -fewest wants. May we not then say that the enemy most to be dreaded is -the man who needs nothing for himself?” -</p> - -<p> -For once the Khans appeared impressed, and before the effect could -wear off he asked permission to depart, leaving them to digest his -words. Each and all overwhelmed him with demands that he would assure -the General of their affectionate interest in his welfare, and thus -reminded afresh of his own eclipse, he escaped at last. It was in one -way a relief to be offered no more substantial parting gifts than the -wreaths of strongly-scented yellow flowers with which he and Richard -were invested with due ceremony, but there was a sting in the -omission. A robe of honour and a jewelled sword would not have cost -the Khans much—even if he had kept them, like the Generals, instead -of refusing them. -</p> - -<p> -“Queer set of chaps those,” growled Richard, as they rode away -decorated with their floral boas. “Every time I see ’em I feel it more -strongly.” -</p> - -<p> -“I fear they are hopeless,” responded Colonel Bayard, with unusual -depression. “If they won’t take Lennox seriously, they’re done for. He -ain’t going to stand any nonsense.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is the country to be annexed, then?” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe not. But he is very strong on getting rid of the family’s -collective authority, and setting up a single Khan with full -responsibility. And that will mean the end of all things to the rest.” -</p> - -<p> -“But very good for Khemistan, and our relations with it.” -</p> - -<p> -“True. You look at the matter in a common-sense light, but it’s a -positive pain to me to think of the extinction of this benevolent -patriarchal rule.” -</p> - -<p> -Richard wondered a little at his leader’s idea of benevolence, but -still sought to comfort him. “Perhaps they’ll all refuse to accept the -change.” -</p> - -<p> -“You say that, knowing how sadly ready they always are to intrigue -against one another? D’ye know that Khair Husain sent to the General -secretly the one night he was here, to try to curry favour with him?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed. Khair Husain? But he ain’t in the running for the -succession, even.” -</p> - -<p> -“He meant to be. He offered to declare for us if we would make him -Chief Khan and back him up against the rest. The spies should have -told you. Not that there’s anything to complain of in old Harry’s -action in the matter. He told the Vakil that he couldn’t deal with -Khair Husain unless he spoke in the name of the rest—which of course -he couldn’t. Then the fellow was idiot enough to say that if he -appeared to take part against us, we were kindly to understand his -heart was in the right place nevertheless, to which the General simply -replied that he wasn’t going to help him to deceive the other Khans. -If he wanted to take our side, he must come out and do it openly. Exit -the Vakil highly disgusted.” -</p> - -<p> -“Serve the rascal right! But we shall have plenty of that sort of -thing if Sir Harry presses ’em hard.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you—particularly if it occurs to Gul Ali to try to square -him in the matter of the succession. Has the old man been trying any -fresh tricks to get the turban for Karimdâd, d’ye know?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, he’s always at it—trying to make a party in his favour among the -other Khans, and he has been uncommonly busy lately.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought so—from the extra special affection in Shahbaz Khan’s -manner to him. That chap is a deep one.” -</p> - -<p> -“Shahbaz Khan? I suppose so. But after all, he is the rightful heir, -and he has to sit by and look on while his brother tries to steal his -inheritance away. Gul Ali has a good deal to offer, and poor Shahbaz -can only give promises at present. You haven’t turned against him, -have you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I? No, certainly not. But I have always a weak spot for Gul Ali, and -to see Shahbaz fawning upon him——” -</p> - -<p> -“But what can the fellow do? There’s no open war. He can only keep the -peace—and keep his eyes open. They’re a nice set—all the lot of ’em. -I dare be bound Kamal-ud-din’s the only one that wouldn’t sell the -rest to the General for the promise of the turban, and that’s because -he don’t care about it. So long as he has Umarganj to retire to, and a -caravan to plunder now and then, he’s happy.” -</p> - -<p> -“He seemed precious full of fight, I noticed. What’s that new -decoration he sports so conspicuously? They can hardly have got back -that Luck—what was it called?—which was stolen years ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid they have—and I’m afraid it’s my fault.” Richard told the -story of the Seal of Solomon, and Colonel Bayard laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I don’t suppose it will make much difference, though they may -think it will. Mrs Ambrose is the only sufferer so far, it seems to -me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I was going to ask you if you would get me something in the way of -jewellery in Bombay—to give her. Fact is, I’m in a precious awkward -position. I think I told you she had spent a lot of money in paying -the debts of that brother of hers—the General’s A.D.C.? Well, if -you’ll believe me, the fellow’s begun to pay it back!” -</p> - -<p> -“You couldn’t well sound more disgusted if he had begun borrowing -afresh! But I see your difficulty. You feel bound to lay it out on -something for her personal use? By all means—I quite agree with you. -Give me some idea what you want, and I shall be honoured with the -commission.” He glanced across approvingly at the younger man. He had -not looked for such delicacy of feeling from Richard Ambrose, who -might have been expected to welcome the return of the money too -eagerly to think of the circumstances, and he stretched out a hand and -laid it kindly on his shoulder. “You feel you ought not to have -brought your wife to Khemistan? But cheer up, my dear fellow! Her -health and spirits have stood it amazingly so far. If only my own dear -wife—— But I shall soon be with her at home now, so I must not -repine. You ain’t afraid of Sahar for Mrs Ambrose? Don’t let them -frighten her by calling it ‘the Graveyard.’ It’s not that it’s -unhealthy, simply that the desert round is packed with graves—a -burial-place for thousands of years, I dare say.” -</p> - -<p> -“She ain’t frightened—not she! Haven’t you observed that ladies never -are frightened or miserable about the things they ought to be—that -you expect them to be? They go through ’em as cool as a cucumber. And -then some ridiculous little thing, that no man in his senses would -ever think of again, they go and break their hearts about!” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed I had not noticed. I fear I have always taken it for granted -Mrs Bayard would be alarmed, and she has indulged me by letting me -think so. Very kind of her, ’pon my word! But I trust the other half -of your observation ain’t true. I should be sorry to think I had made -my wife unhappy—however innocently.” -</p> - -<p> -His tone was so anxious and grieved that Richard administered comfort -hastily. “Oh, don’t be afraid. If you ever did such a thing, Mrs -Bayard would know it was unintentional, trust her! I wish Mrs Ambrose -enjoyed that consolation.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tell her so—and she will,” suggested Colonel Bayard. -</p> - -<p> -“But I’m hanged if it would be true. Tell you what—a cross-grained -fellow who has lived all his life alone has no business to marry. It’s -no happiness for either of ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ask Mrs Ambrose,” said Colonel Bayard again. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs Ambrose’s husband smiled reluctantly. “You know as well as I do -that whether the answer I received was that she was happy or -miserable, it would be liable to be reversed the next moment, for no -reason that anybody could perceive!” -</p> - -<p> -“The very wife for you, Richard, my good fellow!” Colonel Bayard shook -his head wisely. “You ain’t allowed to presume on your happiness, nor -yet to persist in your misery, for if you ain’t in a new mood a -quarter of an hour later, Mrs Ambrose will be! Be thankful for your -good fortune, I tell you. Most men would give their ears for such a -wife as yours—and a brother-in-law a friend at court to boot!” -</p> - -<p> -“I never thought I should have to be grateful for being related to -that young rip Brian!” growled Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if you ain’t grateful, I am for you. The General may pride -himself on never taking a suggestion, but he can’t be altogether -uninfluenced by the members of his own family. And if you can make use -of that influence in favour of my poor foolish Khans, they and I will -bless you yet.” -</p> - -<p> -Not even the chilliness of that last interview could lessen Colonel -Bayard’s sense of responsibility for the wayward charges he had -watched over so long. Despite all his admiration for him, Richard -waxed a little impatient when he thought of it. It would be uncommonly -good for the Khans to come in contact with some one who did not mind -letting them know that he saw through their foolish stratagems, and -would brush away their subterfuges—however roughly. Colonel Bayard, -with the kindest intentions, had left them in a fool’s paradise too -long; they thought the length of their tether was infinite. But unless -he was much mistaken, the old warrior now at Sahar would bring them up -resolutely with a round turn before very long. Even now, from certain -enquiries which had been addressed to him, Richard judged he was -preparing to do this. -</p> - -<p> -There was nothing shilly-shally about Sir Henry Lennox’s methods. He -had been ordered to disband the Political Establishment, and that -unlucky body faded like the baseless fabric of a vision. The -<i>Asteroid</i>, in bringing Colonel Bayard, brought also orders, addressed -to Richard, dealing with the Qadirabad Agency and its staff. The place -was to be closed and left in charge of a reduced guard with one -European officer, to prevent plundering, and a few servants. Though -there was to be no Resident in future, it would no doubt be necessary -to send frequent envoys to the Khans, and a European-built house in -healthy surroundings was a prize not lightly to be let go. The rest of -the inmates went various ways. Some were summoned to Sahar—the -Ambroses, that part of the Khemistan Horse which was not already with -the General, Captain Crosse, Sir Dugald Haigh, and a few other -officers whose units were in the country. But most followed Colonel -Bayard by the next steamer down the river—first to Bab-us-Sahel and -thence to Bombay, where the outraged Services, already on bad terms -with Sir Harry, swore that even if Lord Maryport’s inspiration had not -come from him, the brutal haste with which the order had been carried -out was all his own, and vowed vengeance accordingly. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch09"> -CHAPTER IX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">DINNER AT THE GENERAL’S.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">As</span> usual after the cool weather had begun, the river was beginning -to go down, and it was no easy matter for the <i>Nebula</i> to pick her way -up-stream. As her captain said pathetically, “If the sandbanks would -only stay where they were, you’d know where <i>you</i> were. But when a -great beast of a shoal was in one place when you went down the river, -and on the return voyage you found it somewhere else quite different, -where <i>were</i> you?” A further handicap was imposed by the necessity of -towing two or three large flat-bottomed boats—carrying the fortunes -of the Eurasian and native clerks, peons and other underlings, whom -Sir Harry had selected for Sahar from the derelict staff of the -Qadirabad Agency,—since these displayed a positive genius in fouling -the bank, the shoals, the frequent islands, floating tree-trunks, one -another, the ship herself, and everything else possible and -impossible. But despite all obstacles, progress was made somehow, and -Brian, who had come down by sailing-boat to meet the steamer a few -miles below its destination, was able to assure his relatives that -they would get in comfortably in time for dinner. -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are to dine with us, by the way,” he said. “The General will take -no denial. We tried to put it to him that you’d rather be getting -comfortable in your own quarters the first night, but the old lad said -that was just it—the servants would be settling your things for you -while you were being properly fed. So we saw him safely established -with dear Munshi—he always calls the chap that, as if ’twas his -name—and Stewart started out to borrow crockery fit for a lady to eat -off, while I came down to meet you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Who will he be borrowing from?” asked Eveleen curiously. -</p> - -<p> -“How’d I know? The Mess, I suppose, or some of the civilians—they’re -the boys for style. Don’t be afraid—Stewart will do things for you as -they ought be done, or die.” -</p> - -<p> -“Has the General picked up the country talk yet?” -</p> - -<p> -“Has he not, indeed!—in spite of all his sarcastic remarks! He came -out t’other day with <i>bundibus</i>—meaning <i>bandobast</i>, I suppose as pat -as you please, and Stewart and I winked the other eye behind his back -till we nearly burst. But listen now, how he’ll be leaving his mark on -the map. There’s some forsaken place up beyond Pagipur, where the -Khemistan Horse are to have a post to keep the tribes in order. Just a -heap of ruins—old fort and so on, but I suppose it had some sort of -name once. Anyhow, the General says it shall have a new one now, and -he’ll compliment Gul Ali Khan by naming it after him. Quite so—Gul -Aliabad; everybody agreeable—most neat and appropriate. ‘Not a bit of -it!’ says the old lad; ‘far too long; call it Alibad and be done with -it.’ Munshi and your humble servant venture to point out that ain’t -grammar—or whatever you call it. Quick as lightning the old fellow -barks out, ‘The Lennoxes make their own grammar. Alibad’s the name, -and be hanged to it and you!’ So there you are, <i>hukm hai</i>, [it is an -order] unless future ages dare to correct old Harry’s grammar—which -the present one won’t while he’s alive.” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye expect us to believe that yarn, Brian?” asked Richard, shifting -his cheroot lazily for an instant. -</p> - -<p> -“Just as you please. Sure it won’t hurt me if you don’t—only -yourself. Now, Evie, be on the watch for the first sight of your new -home. Between this island and the next you’ll get the full view of it -in all its sandiness.” -</p> - -<p> -Undoubtedly the prospect was a sandy one—particularly so after the -rich black soil of the Qadirabad district, with its countless villages -embowered in the vivid green of the <i>nîm</i> groves. Immediately ahead -was a long low island—fortified within an inch of its life, as Brian -pointed out; the great battlemented walls and bastions rising from the -very edge of the water—to the right a shapeless collection of mud -hovels straggling out into the desert, and to the left an assemblage -of similar buildings, not quite so aimless-looking, since it centred -round a more or less ruinous fort on a low hill. This was Sahar, the -fortified island was Bahar, and the native town on the farther bank -Bori—a name which naturally lent itself to innumerable puns on the -lips of the young gentlemen quartered at Sahar. If military exigencies -left any room on Bahar for vegetation, it did not venture to show -itself over the battlements, but the plumes of scattered date-palms -mitigated a little the prevailing sand-colour of the buildings on -either bank. -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder why would it all look so dead and ruined?” said Eveleen, in -some dismay, as they drew in to the shore. “Like some place in Egypt -that nobody has lived in for two thousand years.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray, my dear, say something original,” said her husband impatiently. -“It’s impossible for anybody to mention Khemistan without comparing it -with Egypt.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if it’s not like anything but Egypt, how would I say it was?” she -demanded triumphantly. “Tell me now, Brian—this place which I mustn’t -say is like Egypt, whereabouts in it do we live?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, not here, I tell you! Sure the new town is a mile out. The -General was to send horses for you, that you mightn’t be delayed while -they landed your own. He wanted to <i>puckerow</i> [commandeer] a -side-saddle from one of the ladies in Cantonments, but I told him -you’d be just as happy with a stirrup thrown over a man’s saddle, and -he listened to me for once.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was quite satisfied, but her husband was not, unless his -expression belied him. The horses were duly waiting, and she flew into -the saddle with all the ease of past disgraceful experience—so Brian -declared,—to the great interest of her fellow-passengers. It would -have been too much to expect Richard to be pleased at this -unconventional method of travelling, but she did think he need not -have muttered something that sounded like “Circus tricks!” as he -gathered up the reins and put them into her hand. When Brian had -directed the servants where to go, they rode out of the town—which -looked more than ever like one of those deserted cities one reads of -in the Nearer East, uninhabited, but as habitable as it ever was. As -the sun neared the horizon, however, the inhabitants began to show -themselves lazily at their doorways, and children came scrambling over -the rubbish-heaps, on which everything seemed to be built, to stare at -the riders. Beyond stretched a sea of sand dotted with tombstones, -which seemed to extend as far as eye could reach, and then they came -suddenly upon a great cantonment, with solid houses covered with -shining <i>chunam</i>, and gay with rows of bright-coloured <i>chiks</i>, and -long ranges of “lines,” large enough to accommodate several regiments. -</p> - -<p> -“Somebody’s folly!” remarked Brian sententiously, pointing with his -whip. “They’ll have sunk a pretty penny in building this big place, -and it’s said the neighbourhood ain’t healthy, though we haven’t found -anything wrong with it as yet. This way, Evie!” -</p> - -<p> -Passing two sentries, they rode into a compound which was a miniature -of the desert without—so wide was it and so sand-swept,—with an -enormous house at the far end, like a small town in itself. The -<i>chiks</i> were being drawn up now that the heat of the day was over, and -on the verandah stood a small spare figure with grey beard blowing -about in the breeze. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, there’s my old lad—loose!” said Brian, much perturbed. “I hope -he’ll not have been getting into mischief. Stewart will be certain to -say ’twas my fault. But I ask you, could I have locked him into the -office, and told Munshi to sit on him? That’s the only thing would -really keep him quiet. Happily there’ll be three of us to look after -him next week, if his nephew who’s on sick leave turns up all right. -Now what <i>has</i> he been after, I wonder?” -</p> - -<p> -“Welcome, a thousand times welcome, Mrs Ambrose!” cried Sir Harry, -hobbling with perilous haste down the steps. “These young fellows call -this place a desert, but it blossoms like the rose to-night. Allow -me!” he lifted her paternally from the saddle. “Oh, fie, fie! what an -uneasy journey you must have had on that contrivance! Ambrose, I am -very glad to see you. Plenty to do, believe me—start to-night. But -first we’ll have dinner—at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon, General, but ’twas not to be for an hour yet,” put -in Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t trouble yourself about that, my lad. I have put it forward an -hour—bustled the cook a bit.” The General’s voice was happy and -triumphant. “Knew your sister would be starving. It’s coming in now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, Sir Harry, but you’ll let us have a second to make ourselves -respectable and get the sand off?” urged Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Sand, ma’am? I’ve been out in it a good part of the day, and look at -me! No, no; come to dinner.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but you were born tidy!” she sighed, giving her clothes furtive -shakes and pulls, and hoping fervently it was not to be a -dinner-party. In this she was reassured when Sir Harry led her into a -vast dining-hall, with one absurdly small table spread in the midst. -The servants hovering about looked unhappy, and Brian said something -under his breath. -</p> - -<p> -“Will I go and look for Stewart, General? Sure he mayn’t know of the -change of hour.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no, lazy fellow! he must put up with a cold dinner. These -youngsters are apt to grow negligent where there are no ladies—eh, -ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -Gathering from Brian’s silence that she must not attempt to defend the -maligned Stewart, Eveleen found herself gallantly placed at the head -of the table, and heard her husband and brother warned they would be -put under arrest forthwith if they let her so much as touch a -carving-knife. While they wrestled with the dishes placed before her, -in silence save for the enquiries necessary to the polite carver of -the day, Eveleen looked down the table at the General, beaming through -his glasses opposite her. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a big house you have here, Sir Harry! Sure it must feel like -living in a church.” Her eyes wandered round the huge room. -</p> - -<p> -“Glad it inspires you with such creditable sentiments, ma’am. There’s -another about the same size waiting for you. These Khemistan -Politicals knew how to make the money fly. No reflection on you, -Ambrose—it was before your day. Besides, they needed a big place to -house the establishment. A hundred and fifty souls in this house -alone, besides the servants—until Lord Maryport’s order came. Now -there won’t be forty, when we have you all at work.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how will you get the work done by such a few, with so much fever -about?” asked Eveleen in dismay. -</p> - -<p> -“Fever, ma’am? there’s no fever! What put that into your head?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, all the talk at Qadirabad was that you had half the army in -hospital!” she cried. Her husband came to her help, for the General -was looking wrathful. -</p> - -<p> -“That was undoubtedly the impression when we left, General. I believe -the Khans shared it.” -</p> - -<p> -“They did, did they? And that’s why they have been so impudent, I -haven’t a doubt! Well, the next Vakils they send shall have a nice -little bone-shaking ride over the hills, and see two or three thousand -men trotted about—just to show ’em. My beautiful camel battery will -open their eyes a bit, I promise them. D’ye ever see a camel battery, -ma’am?—the dear solemn beasts looking so philosophical with their -noses up in the air, and dragging the nine-pounders as if they were -feathers!” -</p> - -<p> -“Have you ever been with camels on the march, General?” asked Richard, -bitter reminiscence in his voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Never, but I shall try ’em on my little trip to Pagipur. Why, ain’t -they satisfactory?” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure you’ll find you can’t get <i>fond</i> of a camel, Sir Harry,” said -Eveleen. “You couldn’t have one tied up outside your tent, as you -would Black Prince and Dick Turpin, the way they’d put their noses in -and ask for a bit of biscuit. A camel would take a bit of you -instead—without asking.” -</p> - -<p> -“One for me!” chuckled Sir Harry. “What nice beasts horses are, ain’t -they? But this husband of yours is looking mighty superior over my -follies, ma’am. It’s high treason—or ought to be—to hold up a -commanding officer to the contempt of his subordinates. Don’t you do -it again!” -</p> - -<p> -“Never—till the next time!” Eveleen assured him. “And did you get the -third horse you were thinking of?” -</p> - -<p> -“I did—worse luck! The uneasiest beast in creation, I believe. Selima -is her name officially, but that ribald brother of yours dubbed her -Tippetywink—how he spells it <i>I</i> don’t know—and now she answers to -nothing else.” -</p> - -<p> -“Because you’d not dare even wink when you’re riding her, General. She -takes it as an invitation to dance—you’ll see, Evie.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not with me on the lady’s back she won’t,” grumbled Sir Harry. “Any -little frivolity of that sort Miss Selima and I will have out by -ourselves in private. She’s as undependable as—the Khans. D’ye ever -hear of the dodge, Ambrose”—turning suddenly on Richard—“of having -two seals, one for ordinary use, and t’other just a little different, -so that if you want to deny it you can point out that it can’t be -yours? That’s what it seems to me our friends have been up to just -lately.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, General; I have heard of the trick.” Richard spoke with notable -lack of enthusiasm. How was he to fulfil his pledge to Colonel Bayard -to do his best for the Khans if the fools were up to these dodges -already? Sir Harry caught him up eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you shall see after dinner. I am practically convinced, but I -won’t act unless I’m positively certain. The Governor-General is very -strong on that, too, and I’m glad of it, for I was afraid he was -unjust about poor Bayard, and whatever happens to these chaps ought to -be absolutely clear and above-board.” -</p> - -<p> -Talking, as he did, continuously and at railroad speed, it might have -seemed difficult for the General to satisfy his hunger, but he ate as -fast as he talked, with a kind of mechanical action. Presumably some -one had instructed him in the deadly nature of bazar pork, for that -delicacy did not appear on the menu. Though the table service came -obviously from one or more canteens, the dinner had evidently been -carefully chosen, and a lady’s probable tastes consulted in the -selection of sweet dishes; but it was naturally not improved by being -put forward—the only wonder was that it was not worse. Bad or good, -however, there was little time to savour it, for Sir Harry set the -pace, and allowed no pauses. It did not strike Eveleen at first that -he was mischievously determined to get the meal over before the absent -Stewart could return, but she realised it when, just as the dessert -was put on the table, a worried face appeared for an instant in the -doorway, with two laden coolies dimly visible behind. The one word -“Jungly!” floated bitterly to the ears of the diners, and the General -exploded in such a paroxysm of mirth as might have betrayed into -unfair suspicions those who had not seen that he drank nothing but -water. -</p> - -<p> -“And now he’s cursing me in blackfellows’ talk!” were the first -coherent words to obtain utterance. “Why don’t he use the Queen’s -English like a gentleman? Captain Stewart, come and apologise to Mrs -Ambrose for being absent all dinner-time. Make no mistake; I am very -seriously displeased with you.” -</p> - -<p> -But the unhappy Stewart had betaken himself out of hearing, probably -to dismiss his useless coolies, and the General chuckled himself -silent again. When Eveleen rose, he sent Brian to join her on the -verandah, and carried off Richard to his office, there to set to work -with compasses and spaced rulers to investigate various impressions -and drawings of seals, each with its more or less legible inscription -in beautiful but intricate Persian characters. Richard’s expression -made Brian exclaim discontentedly as soon as he had his sister to -himself— -</p> - -<p> -“I hope to goodness Ambrose ain’t going about for ever with that glum -phiz! What’s the matter with the fellow?” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure he’ll be sorry to lose his friend Bayard, and afraid things are -going to be different,” said Eveleen wisely. -</p> - -<p> -“But why wouldn’t they be different? Can’t go on always in the same -old rut. It ain’t as if his place was going begging. The General has a -step-grandson or something that he would have liked greatly to put -into it.” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye tell me that, now? But of course I knew he only appointed -Ambrose because he felt he would be unfairly treated otherwise, and to -please Bayard.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, if Ambrose knows ’twas not for his sweet face nor his -charming manners he got it, will you tell me why he wouldn’t try to -make himself agreeable at all? Sure it reflects on me—the way he -looks and talks.” -</p> - -<p> -“Reflects on you?” said Eveleen, in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, and why wouldn’t it? Wasn’t it a compliment to me his getting -the post? You don’t think the old lad would have picked out Ambrose -out of all the unjustly treated men in Khemistan if you were not my -sister? Then don’t my fine Major owe it to me to look a bit -grateful—whether he is or not?” -</p> - -<p> -Amazement had kept Eveleen silent for the moment, but now she -descended on him crushingly. “I never heard anything like it!” she -declared indignantly. “A little weeshy bit of a boy like you to <i>dare</i> -to criticise Major Ambrose! A compliment to you, indeed! I’d have you -know, my bold fellow, that Ambrose stands on his own feet, and needs -no help from you or anybody. Why would he look grateful to you, pray, -when he owes you nothing, nothing in the wide world? I’d advise you be -ashamed of yourself to be talking such nonsense.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, all serene,” growled Brian, considerably taken aback. “Don’t -think <i>I</i> want to put you under an obligation, I beg of you. And if -you prefer Ambrose to go about with the face he has, sure I’d be the -last to wish it altered! Some people would say his manner to you would -be the better of a little change too, but——” -</p> - -<p> -“You <i>dare</i>! Brian, you <i>dare</i>!” Eveleen’s eyes flashed fire, and once -more her brother withdrew discreetly. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, don’t destroy me entirely! As I say, if you like it, it’s -your business it is, not mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“And for once in your life y’are right! Take this from me, Brian -Delany: if ever you dare speak against Major Ambrose again, I declare -to you I’ll make you sorry y’ever were born! Is that clear to you?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is, it is! ’Pon my word, old Evie, I never meant to rile you like -this. ’Twas just that I felt——” -</p> - -<p> -“Take care!” warningly. -</p> - -<p> -“I will, indeed. Sure I ought remember that only a fool would go -interfering between a man and his wife. ’Twas none of my business, and -I ask your pardon.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, be careful, then.” But Eveleen’s wrath, never very long-lived, -was melting like snow at the sight of her boy’s penitence. “Listen, -then, Brian”—in a burst of confidence,—“Ambrose is English. That’s -what gives him the manner you think I’d dislike. But I don’t, because -it’s his. I’ll tell you this now—it did take me by surprise at first, -but now I’m accustomed to it I wouldn’t know him without it. -Indeed—and this is more I wouldn’t have him different, because it -wouldn’t be <i>him</i>, d’ye see?” -</p> - -<p> -“So long as you can stand it—— I mean,” hastily, “as you like -it—it’s no business of mine. I suppose I ought be thankful you take -it this way, for what would I do if you didn’t? Call him out—eh? and -you running in between to try and reconcile us at the last moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, too late, and receiving the fire of both parties, and with my -last breath joining your two hands, and vowing you to eternal -friendship in memory of the hapless Eveleen! There’s tragedy for you! -But talking of tragedy, what’s happened that poor Captain Stewart of -yours? I declare he looked so crushed when he put his head in at the -door I was afraid of something terrible.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will I go and see? He takes these things to heart greatly. He had -made up his mind to have a dinner worthy of you, and now he’s touched -in his tenderest point.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, do go. Bring him here to have a talk, and we’ll make him laugh -till he forgets all about it.” -</p> - -<p> -But when Brian returned he shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -“No go, Evie! He’s holding his head and groaning, and vowing he’ll -resign and go back to his regiment if Freddy Lennox don’t keep the -General in better order than we can. His heart is broken entirely, I -tell you.” -</p> - -<p> -“The poor fellow! Will we go and dig him out, Brian?” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you’d do it! ’Twould shock him horribly—do him all the -good in the world! We will. Come along—no, hist, we are observed! -Here’s my old lad and your good man.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are sure of the writing?” Sir Harry was demanding eagerly of -Richard as they came towards the others. -</p> - -<p> -“Absolutely certain, General. I’ve seen enough of it!” -</p> - -<p> -“You have specimens you can produce?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dozens, sir—the moment I can get my papers unpacked.” -</p> - -<p> -“Good. That settles <i>his</i> hash, I think. Now, Mrs Ambrose, I’m not -going to keep your husband longer to-night. Your brother will take you -round to your quarters, and if you find anything wrong with ’em, let -me know at once, d’ye see?” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed I will, Sir Harry, but it’s too good and kind y’are to us. -Sure we’ll be spoilt!” -</p> - -<p> -“There ain’t many people to call me good and kind—outside my own -family and the private soldiers,” chuckled Sir Harry. “But listen a -moment, ma’am.” Richard and Brian had gone down the steps to the -horses, and he held her back. “I have asked Lord Maryport for Bayard -as my Commissioner in settling the new treaty, so if all goes well he -will be coming back here almost as soon as he sets foot in Bombay. -What d’ye think of that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, now, how pleased Ambrose will be! You have told him?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, I leave that for you to do, when you can speak to him quietly. I -can see he finds it difficult to work under any one but his ill-used -friend, and I honour him for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure y’are too good to us entirely, Sir Harry!” and the General was -well pleased with voice and look. But it is probable he did not intend -the news to be reserved, as Eveleen did reserve it, until she and her -husband, having been duly inducted by Brian into the palatial quarters -reserved for them, were in bed on opposite sides of a room which -looked about half a mile across. Richard was just dropping asleep when -he heard his wife’s voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose! <i>Ambrose</i>! Are y’asleep already? Listen to me now.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is it? A snake? a lizard?” he asked drowsily. -</p> - -<p> -“Neither—nothing of that sort. Why will y’always be thinking of such -horrid things? No, the General bid me tell you he has asked to have -Bayard sent back to help him with the treaty, and he expects him here -in no time.” -</p> - -<p> -The news was so unexpected that it woke Richard effectually. “I wonder -whether he is wise,” he said, without any of the enthusiasm Eveleen -had looked for. -</p> - -<p> -“And is that all you have to say? I thought you’d be jumping out of -bed and dancing on your head for joy!” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, my dear! Have you ever known me do——” -</p> - -<p> -“No, never! never anything of the sort!” Eveleen was sitting up in -bed, and her voice floated over to him in a bitter wail. “Always and -always y’are the most disappointing creature ever I saw in my life!” -</p> - -<p> -“I am sorry. If you had let me know beforehand——” -</p> - -<p> -“And then where would be the surprise—the delightful surprise?—and -y’are not a bit delighted, or surprised either. And I saving it up -since the moment he told me——” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps you had better have told me at once, my dear. You are rather -like the General——” -</p> - -<p> -“Like the General!” burst forth Eveleen. “If you think it polite to -tell your poor unfortunate wife she’s like an ancient old man with a -nose as big as the Hill of Howth and a beard like a billy-goat! You -told me before I was as ugly as sin, but I thought you maybe didn’t -mean it—but now you’ve said it again——” a sob. -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose, will you be good enough to tell me when I said anything -so preposterous?” -</p> - -<p> -“When I was ill at Bab-us-Sahel. At least, I said ’twas what you -thought about me, and you didn’t say no, so I had to think you did! -And now you say I’m like the General!” -</p> - -<p> -“If you will be quiet a moment and listen to me—— Now; do you -seriously expect me to contradict all the absurd things you say every -day? If you do, I will make a point of it, but it will add a good deal -to my work—and shorten my life by some years, I imagine. But perhaps -that——” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t—you know I don’t! Y’oughtn’t be so cruel, Ambrose! You know -if you were ill I’d be nursing you day and night, and neither eat nor -sleep till you were well again.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am sure you would,” with a slight shudder. “Let us hope it won’t be -necessary. At any rate, there seems no present likelihood of my -inflicting such a task on you. As to my saying you were like the -General, I apologise if it was the wrong thing. You are so fond of -him, I thought it would rather please you than otherwise. Not like him -in face, of course—you know very well I meant nothing of that -kind,—but in saying or doing what you have in your mind without -thinking a moment how it will affect other people.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen sat silent a moment, somewhat dismayed. “Will I really be like -the General in that way?” she asked at last in a subdued voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be afraid I shall say you are. I have learnt my lesson.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I see what you mean. That trick on poor Stewart to-night—I’d -have done just the same. And——” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray don’t task your memory.” Richard smothered a colossal yawn. “I -haven’t said I mean that, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I know you did. Oh dear, how will I ever make you think -differently? I don’t mean to be ill-natured, but when a thing comes to -me—— If only there was something I could do to show you—something -you wanted very much——” -</p> - -<p> -“There is something I want very much,” in a ghostly voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, tell me now! tell me! Can I do it?” -</p> - -<p> -“You could, but you won’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, how can you say so? You know I’d do anything——” -</p> - -<p> -“It ain’t great or grand enough—nothing heroic or romantic about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Just tell me—just let me hear.” -</p> - -<p> -“Merely to let us both have a night’s rest—that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh!” in dismay. “Oh, you shocking tease!” in indignation. “But I’ll -do it; I won’t say another word.” A pause, during which Eveleen lay -down vigorously, and remained silent a moment. “Ambrose!” -</p> - -<p> -“All present and correct, sir,” sleepily. “No—I mean, Yes.” -</p> - -<p> -“What about those seals? Just tell me that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Gul Ali’s without a doubt. One of the papers in the writing—of his -Munshi—Chanda Ram—know his fist as well—as I do my own.” A snore. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh!” said Eveleen again. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch10"> -CHAPTER X.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A CONTEST OF WITS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Public</span> opinion at Sahar was divided on the subject of Sir Henry -Lennox. To the elegant he was a disreputable old figure of fun, -certain to bring irreparable disgrace upon British arms if he was so -foolish as to provoke a conflict with the Khans. Kinder-hearted people -referred hopefully to his Peninsular record, while admitting -mournfully that the Peninsula was a very long time back. Civilians -declared him a bloodthirsty soldier, out for loot; soldiers lamented -audibly that a fellow who had not the faintest notion of military -discipline or etiquette should have been shoved into a position where -the absence of these might, and almost certainly would, do untold -harm. The sepoys regarded him with distant respect, not unmixed with -dread, since the tempests of wrath they heard clattering on the heads -of their superiors might at any moment fall on their own. The British -private developed an unaccountable taste for turning out when the -General went by—because he had never seen a General looking like a -scarecrow before, said his officers bitterly—and greeting him with -broad smiles which impaired distressingly the martial woodenness of -the regulation salute. And the General pandered to this unmilitary -behaviour, stopping to talk to individual privates in a human—not to -say friendly—fashion, and actually invading the barrack-rooms when -these were not prepared for inspection. He might say that in this way -he found out that things were not as they should be: of course he did, -the officers retorted indignantly; what did he expect? He would have -found nothing wrong if he would only come at proper times. -</p> - -<p> -But little by little an uneasy feeling was gripping the hearts of the -placid oligarchy which had ruled the Sahar Cantonments hitherto. The -old joker meant business; it was not all fuss and bluster when he -called together the officers of a regiment and addressed them in -language that lacked nothing in strength, if much in polish. -Responsibility was his text; he was mad on responsibility: -responsibility towards the men—that, at any rate, was universally -admitted in theory; towards other branches of the Service—even, if it -could be believed, towards the native regiments; and most incredible -of all, responsibility towards the “black” population. And it was not -possible to listen politely to his views and ignore them as an amiable -eccentricity, for he went so far as to promulgate them in General -Orders, and enforce them by penalty. Moreover, the orders were drawn -up so clearly that any one could understand them, and in such -improperly sarcastic language that it was plain the grinning privates -who heard and read them regarded them as an entertainment freely -provided for their delectation. The Army was certainly going to the -dogs, and that part of it which was quartered at Sahar would arrive -first, thanks to the Governor-General for sending this doddering old -lunatic to vex it. It was not Sir Harry’s age that was the chief count -against him—for in those days the nearer a man was to seventy, the -greater seemed his chances of high command—but his eccentricity. He -had somehow managed to pass through the Army mould without taking its -impression, and as a result, he spoke a language strange to Army men. -</p> - -<p> -It was some consolation to the few Politicals left at Sahar that the -General was evidently as great a puzzle to the native rulers as to his -own subordinates. All his movements were watched and reported by a -horde of spies, and his utterances, which were numerous, often -lengthy, and frequently quite inconsistent with one another, noted -down with care and pains by hearers who only understood half of what -they heard, and by them translated into Persian for transmission to -the Khans. Of more value, perhaps, was the ocular demonstration of the -condition of his troops, whom he was training hard. The “trotting -about over the hills,” which he had promised himself to give the -Khans’ messengers in company with two or three thousand men of his -force, impressed them deeply, though the impression wore off a little -when it came out that the General had remarked artlessly that this and -the many similar field-days that followed it were intended to train -himself as much as his men. -</p> - -<p> -These field-days were a continual delight to Eveleen. The Great Duke -had set the example of allowing ladies to ride with the staff on such -occasions, and take station at the saluting-point—judiciously to the -rear, of course—and Sir Harry would have regarded it as blasphemy to -seek to improve upon his master’s methods. He was careful to detail an -aide-de-camp to keep Mrs Ambrose from getting into danger or -obstructing the manœuvres, but those two conditions satisfied, she -might gallop where she liked. Sometimes, of course, she would arrive -at an awkward moment, when Sir Harry was on the point of telling a -unit candidly what he really thought of it, and then he would turn -upon her an awful glare. “Madam, be good enough to retire!” was the -formula barked at her from lips so clearly struggling to restrain a -pent-up flood of vitriolic language that even Eveleen never dared to -defy the mandate. From a safe distance she would hear the General’s -voice rising and falling in alternate denunciation and irony—the -words being happily undistinguishable—and discern through the -sand-clouds the wilting of the officers beneath the storm; and then -Sir Harry would ride after her refreshed and genial, the -gayest-mannered martinet that ever killed a regiment with his mouth. -He had a great fancy for her little horse Bajazet, but having learnt -his history, insisted on renaming him the Street Arab—the expression -was just coming into use,—since Bajazet was no name for an Arab, he -said, but mere romantic female foolishness. -</p> - -<p> -Richard did not take part in these field-days. They afforded him a -much-needed opportunity for getting on with the work of the office, -unhindered by the incursions of his chief. The Khemistan Political -Establishment might have been excessive hitherto, but there was no -denying that its sudden reduction imposed an enormous quantity of work -on the few men who remained. Sir Harry himself was tireless, and -seemed to find no difficulty in working all night after riding all -day; but his inexperience added not a little to the labours of his -subordinates. He had a rooted distaste for the elaborate forms of -courtesy without which no Persian communication would be complete, and -lest he should be set down as a barbarian absolutely destitute of -breeding, Richard and the Munshi found it necessary to prepare two -copies of every letter and order that was to be sent out in his name. -One was in the plain blunt terms he himself favoured—he was very -proud of these, and often copied the English rendering into his diary, -presumably as a model of official correspondence for future -generations,—the other embellished with the polite circumlocutions -without which the recipient would have regarded it as a calculated -insult. In like manner all the letters he received had to be most -carefully scanned before being submitted to him, for in his impatience -of the involved compliments set forth at extreme length, he would -brush aside the whole document as of no importance, and thus fail to -reach the weighty meaning concealed amid the flowery verbiage. And -when, to accent these little peculiarities, Sir Harry was in the state -of mind known to all his subordinates as “kicking up a dust”—as -happened not infrequently,—the office heaved bitter sighs of longing -for the days of Colonel Bayard, now gone by for ever. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen rode round one evening when office hours were over to pick up -her husband, that they might take their ride by daylight. Here, with -the desert and its wild tribes so close at hand, it was not safe to -ride in the dark, so that during the sunset hour the roads in and -about the Cantonments were a scene of tumultuous activity, which -ceased, in Cinderella-fashion, the instant after gunfire. Eveleen -expected Richard to meet her, but his horse was still waiting in -charge of its syce, who said he had not seen his master, and she rode -on up to the verandah steps. Then he came out, looking worried, his -hands full of papers. -</p> - -<p> -“Sorry, my dear, but I’m afraid you must excuse me this evening. It -has been impossible to get anything done, and these letters must be -put into shape before I leave. Your brother will escort you if he can -get away, and if”—with some bitterness—“you can induce the General -to go too, pray do. I shall be thankful not to hear his voice.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but can’t I help you?” she asked quickly. “It’s a headache you -have; I see that.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, my dear, thank you. Go and enjoy your ride.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen rode away, feeling rather desolate. Round the next corner she -just escaped running into Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“Won’t you come and play with me? I have nobody to play with!” she was -quoting from the spelling-book in common use, from which she had -taught Brian to read, but he did not respond to the familiar tag. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you not, indeed? The General sends his compliments, and may he -have the honour of attending you this evening? Take him along with -you, pray, and smooth him down a bit. We have had one earthquake after -another the whole long day.” -</p> - -<p> -“How very interesting! What about?” she asked curiously. -</p> - -<p> -“What about? <i>Everything</i>—every sole, single, individual thing that -has happened or not happened since the early morning. And don’t you -tell him things are ‘interesting,’ if you value your life. I believe -that was what helped to set him off—my telling him some order or -other had been ‘carried out’ instead of ‘executed.’ He’s been going on -about cant words, and the correct thing, and the cheese, at intervals -ever since. I tell y’ I don’t dare open my mouth!” -</p> - -<p> -“New for you, Brian! But what if he’d snap at me? Are you going to -leave me to be eaten up entirely?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I’ll be there—but in my proper subordinate place behind. It’s -you will get the fireworks—riding with him.” -</p> - -<p> -They were walking their horses into the main courtyard, and as he -spoke they came in sight of a very explosive-looking Sir Harry, -standing on the steps and criticising with freedom the appearance and -equipment of the escort. It was for once fortunate that he could not -speak Persian, for the precise nature of his remarks was lost on the -troopers, though his tone and gestures, and the face of the officer -who bore the brunt of his words, made the whole drift clear enough. As -was natural when he was already ruffled, some evil genius had allotted -him the fidgety Selima that evening, and when he saw Eveleen, and -politely determined not to keep a lady waiting, hastened to mount, the -mare kept him hopping on one leg for some minutes of greater energy -than dignity. It took all the little self-control Eveleen possessed -not to offer advice or assistance, but she knew that would be a crime -beyond forgiveness, and succeeded in keeping silence and a straight -face. At last he was in the saddle, and gathering up the reins in -stillness more eloquent than speech. With what she felt was supreme -tact, Eveleen ignored it all. -</p> - -<p> -“And where will we go?” she asked, as they rode out of the gate. -</p> - -<p> -“We will go,” returned Sir Harry, with concentrated venom, “straight -to the sandhills, and let this uneasy jade have her fill of dancing -and prancing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, that will be splendid!” cried Eveleen, forgetting tact, and -instantly reminded of it by the malevolent glance bent upon her. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, we shall have a <i>splendid</i> ride, and my <i>lovely</i> companion and -my <i>interesting</i> aide will congratulate themselves on <i>carrying out</i> -their purpose of seeing the old man look a fool. That is <i>correct</i> -behaviour nowadays, I understand.” -</p> - -<p> -So vehemently did he hiss out the fashionable catchwords which he -hated, that Eveleen was more taken aback than she had ever been in her -life. But she was not the woman to suffer meekly at Sir Harry’s hands -any more than at Richard’s. Withdrawing her gaze primly to her horse’s -ears, she remained stonily silent, taking no notice of her companion. -In this wise they rode through the part of the Cantonments which lay -between Government House and the desert, and the ladies they -met—after observing with disapproval that there was that Mrs Ambrose -riding with the General again—remarked with unction that it looked as -though Sir Henry was finding out at last what sort of temper Mrs -Ambrose possessed. As for Eveleen, she suspected irony in Richard’s -parting injunction—in which she probably did him injustice. -</p> - -<p> -Possibly the air and exercise mollified Sir Harry’s chafed spirit, or -perhaps he realised that he had been rude, for instead of calling for -a gallop as soon as they were on the sand, he drew rein and said, in a -voice half surly, half apologetic— -</p> - -<p> -“Not very much to say for yourself to-night—eh, ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen turned innocent eyes upon him. “Sure I’m afraid to talk, Sir -Harry. I’m in a shocking bad temper this evening, and I’d maybe say -something I oughtn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“Meaning that I’m in a shocking bad temper, I suppose? My apologies, -ma’am—my most humble apologies. Not that I ever do lose my -temper—you’re wrong there.” Eveleen wished she had eyes in the back -of her head, to see Brian’s face when he heard this. “I’m apt to be -betrayed into using strong language occasionally—very wrong, I know, -and I try to break myself of the habit,—but I assure you I have the -sweetest temper in the world. All we Lennoxes have; we got it from our -parents before us.” -</p> - -<p> -“But oughtn’t a person lose their temper sometimes?” enquired Eveleen -meekly. “When there’s good cause for it, I mean?” -</p> - -<p> -The General’s face cleared wonderfully. “Why, so they ought! There are -times when no man who is a man ought to keep his temper. And I am -proud to say that on occasions like that I have never failed—yes, I -think I may say I have never failed—to lose mine.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen fought with a wild desire to laugh. “True for you, I’m sure, -Sir Harry—most thoroughly. W-will we gallop now?” she welcomed almost -hysterically a broad stretch of smooth sand in front, for the General -had glanced round suspiciously, and she was afraid of disgracing -herself for ever. But when Bajazet broke into a canter, Selima was -naturally not disposed to be left behind, and they swept forward -grandly, with the escort clinking and clanking after. When they slowed -down a little, to mount the steep rise of a sandhill, which stretched -right and left, as far as eye could see, like the face of a breaking -wave, Eveleen glanced at Sir Harry. He was certainly more cheerful, -but not yet his benign self, and without allowing him a moment’s -breathing-space she urged another canter the instant they reached the -crest of the sand-wave, and never stopped till the ground began to -rise for the next. Then Sir Harry checked Selima and laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“There, that will do! The seven devils are gone,” he chuckled, and -Eveleen, a little breathless, laughed back at him. Her eyes were -shining blue, her hair, crisped by the desert wind, stood out like -wires under the heavy gauze veil thrown back over her straw hat. She -looked about seventeen, and Sir Harry felt older than ever in -comparison with her. He spoke abruptly. -</p> - -<p> -“And now, if you please, we’ll take things easy for a bit. What with -you young people egging the old fellow on, we seem to have got the -escort strung out over a mile or so of desert.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder might I suggest we go back and pick ’em up, General?” -suggested Brian, rather anxiously. “If there were any of the Khans’ -Arabits about here—or the wild tribes either—you would be something -like a prize for them—and with a lady in charge——” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite so. Though I think you and I could put up a fairly good fight -while Mrs Ambrose got away. My little friend the Street Arab has a -pretty turn of speed. But it would be an ignominious ending to a fit -of—no, ma’am, <i>not</i> temper—a fit of righteous indignation such as I -hope will ever seize me, or any of our family, at the sight of cruelty -or injustice.” -</p> - -<p> -“And why wouldn’t it, Sir Harry?” asked Eveleen boldly. “I’m sure that -same righteous indignation has got me into trouble often enough. Would -it be the way the people here treat the women made you angry?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, ma’am. It was the way our own people treat their wounded. I rode -out this morning to meet the force coming—we mustn’t say -retreating—from Ethiopia. A part of the rearguard came into camp -while I was there, and I saw the poor fellows taken from their camels -and pitched down on the sand like dogs. I promise you the officers -concerned got a bit of my mind. Queen’s or Company’s, they are all the -same—shamefully negligent of their men. A bad set they are, a bad -set—and see if I don’t treat ’em badly in their turn!” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but not all bad?” entreated Eveleen, as he laughed ferociously. -“And sure they’ll improve, now you have the teaching of them, Sir -Harry.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will they, indeed? Then what d’ye say to what I found when I got -back? In spite of all my orders against reckless riding in the bazar, -a wretched half-caste clerk goes careering along, won’t pull up for -anybody, knocks down one of our own sepoys, a fine young fellow as -ever I saw—regularly rides over him. Poor chap goes to hospital, and -his murderer gets my sentiments—and something more.” -</p> - -<p> -“The poor sepoy was really killed?” in horror. -</p> - -<p> -“Not quite, but no thanks to the <i>cranny</i>. [<i>Krani</i>=writer.] And he -shall pay for it—needn’t think he’s going to get off. But this ain’t -ladies’ conversation, is it?” pulling himself up suddenly. “Fact is, -ma’am, this cantonment has to be got into order, and it don’t like it. -It ain’t altogether the officers’ fault—there are some magnificent -youngsters among ’em—but they have had no one to command ’em, simply -a lot of <i>suggestors</i> suggesting that they should do this or that, and -it’s gone far to ruin ’em. There they go muddling themselves with beer -all day long, but when the private soldiers get drunk on country -spirits, it’s ‘Nasty drunken wretches! why can’t they keep sober?’ As -if there was a chance of their keeping sober in barrack-rooms not fit -for swine! How is a soldier to have confidence in his officer in war -if he has shown no concern for his welfare in peace? It’s the same all -round. There are the black artillery drivers with eight rupees a month -of pay, no lodging-money, and no warm clothing. Of course in Ethiopia -they deserted wholesale, and took their horses with ’em. But while I -command here we ain’t going to risk having our batteries crippled at -the critical moment just to save the Directors the price of a suit of -clothes. That matter’s set right, at any rate.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure you talk as though you expected war, Sir Harry.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I don’t, ma’am, but I mean to be prepared for it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder don’t you rather look forward to it really?” -</p> - -<p> -“Look forward to it? Well, a man who has never commanded a brigade in -action may be excused for feeling some desire to know how he would -acquit himself at the head of an army. Not that I confess to much -doubt on the matter. One who has served under Wellington—you might -almost say under Napoleon, so closely have I studied him, though we -were on opposite sides, worse luck!—has little to do but put in -practice his master’s lessons. Yet I admit there’s an attraction in -the thought of handling in earnest a magnificent force such as I have -here, massing it against the foe, flinging it hither and thither, -leading it to victory—— Ah, but then! Heaven forgive me! do I desire -to appear before my Maker—as must happen before long—with my hands -imbrued in the blood of my kind, of those very troops whose proud -bearing and lofty confidence fills me with elation? No, a thousand -times no!” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke aloud, but as though to himself, with eyes fixed on the -distant horizon, and Eveleen was awed. “But there won’t likely be war -at all?” she asked, almost timidly. -</p> - -<p> -“How can I say? Is there any knowing what might suffice to stir to a -murderous resolution these poor foolish princes, who are drunk with -<i>bhang</i> every day after three o’clock, and peevish all the morning -till they can get drunk again? They are at the mercy of a moment’s -impulse, if the heads of their army had the strength of mind to take a -decisive step when ordered, without waiting for the inevitable -reversal.” -</p> - -<p> -“The younger Khans might do so, Ambrose thinks,” she -suggested—“especially Kamal-ud-din.” -</p> - -<p> -“True, but would he find a sufficient following when old Gul Ali says -in open audience that if the British will only take money to go away -he’ll sell all his wives’ jewels to satisfy ’em? Then the next thing -one hears he and the rest have sent their women away into the desert, -and swear they will cut all their throats to prove to us they are in a -desperate determination to resist. Well, do it, my good princes, do -it! and I swear by all that’s holy I’ll cut yours, to the last man of -you! When it comes to throat-cutting, you’ll find me a good deal apter -than in chopping words with your Vakils.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose believes they intend fighting,” said Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“I know he does, but the other Politicals assure me with one voice -that all this assemblage of troops is under taken solely with the -design to intimidate me—which design, by the way, is uncommonly -mistaken! Poor Bayard himself could hardly depart for assuring me that -his dear Khans hadn’t an ounce of vice in ’em—that it was their -nature to bluster and talk big, but if I took ’em at their word I -should be guilty of murder at the very least. So be it, says I to him, -if murder starts it won’t be because I begin it. If the princes will -keep the peace, peace they shall have; but if they fire a shot, -Khemistan shall be annexed to the British Empire, and good for -Khemistan it will be.” -</p> - -<p> -“Bayard don’t think that,” said Eveleen slowly. “’Twould break his -heart, I believe.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then he must get his friends to keep their treaties—and mind you, -the new one I am to make is a long way stiffer than the last. The -Khans are to pay in territory for all their dirty tricks—give back to -the Nawab of Habshiabad the districts they stole from him, and cede -Sahar and Bab-us-Sahel to us permanently.” -</p> - -<p> -“They won’t like that either, will they?” -</p> - -<p> -“That they won’t, and very naturally. In their place I should object -strongly myself. In fact, I object now, for what right have we here, -taking possession of towns that don’t belong to us? But the Khans -entered into the treaties, and they must keep ’em—or if they want to -break ’em, they must fight fair. Those letters now, with the doubtful -seals—you have heard of them?” -</p> - -<p> -“I heard you speaking to Ambrose about them, but I don’t know what -they would be. He don’t tell me things.” -</p> - -<p> -“Wise man! Well, ma’am, they were merely written at the time of our -Ethiopian disasters to incite Maharajah Ajit Singh of Ranjitgarh to -form a league against us, and to the chiefs of the wild tribes to get -’em to fall upon our retreating troops. They were sealed with a seal -closely resembling Gul Ali’s, but with some slight differences that -made me think a forgery had possibly been attempted. But then Munshi -puts me up to a nice little trick these fellows have of keeping two -seals—one just sufficiently different from the other to justify -doubts if there’s any wish to disavow a document,—and your good -husband not only identifies the seal as genuine, but swears to the -handwriting of the letters as being that of Gul Ali’s chief scribe. So -he at least—and his brother Khans are all tarred with the same -brush—stands convicted of a diabolical attempt to take advantage of -our calamities. He’ll deny it, of course, as he will the latest -evidence of his perfidy—a bond written in his own copy of the Koran, -and sealed by all the Khans but Shahbaz, pledging ’em to unite in -driving us from the country,—but I’ll bring him to book. What can you -do with a man whose word can’t be trusted and who’ll forge his own -seal? Nothing but bind him down so tight as to put it out of his power -to do mischief, says I. My friend Gul Ali is taking a little trip in -this direction, I hear, and when he and I meet to exchange -compliments, there will be something more than compliments in store -for him. I’ll wager he’ll be uncommonly taken aback when he finds I am -acquainted with the engagement he carries in his Koran.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if he denies it? Why, he might even produce another Koran to show -you there was nothing in it at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“To be sure he might—and most certainly will. And therefore my only -course is to make it impossible for the suggested combination to take -place. Believe me, ma’am, I have a rod in pickle for old Gul Ali. My -sole fear is that he mayn’t care to face me.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure that would be to admit his guilt?” -</p> - -<p> -“True, but a tacit admission of guilt don’t do you much good when the -guilty person remains so discreetly at a distance that you can’t lay -hands on him.” -</p> - -<p> -“The sun is getting precious low, General,” ventured the watchful -Brian, riding up level with Sir Harry. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s true, and we seem to have collected the escort without the -loss of a man. Ma’am, I owe you an apology for trespassing on your -patience with these public affairs, thinking less of your -entertainment than of relieving my own mind. My comfort is that you’ll -forget ’em speedily.” -</p> - -<p> -“True, Sir Harry. I’ll not remember anything but that you complimented -me by talking about them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Delany,” said Sir Harry solemnly to Brian, “were there any fragments -of the Blarney Stone left behind when your sister quitted Ireland, or -was the whole of it concealed in her baggage?” -</p> - -<p> -“Blarney Stone, indeed!” said Brian enthusiastically, when he looked -in on the Ambroses late that evening. “’Tis a harp y’ought be having, -Evie—like David with Saul,—and I’ll not say but the staff will be -getting up a subscription to present you with one. Think of the -convenience of being able to call you in to lay the dust as soon as -the old lad begins to kick it up!” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it a harp, indeed! Much good that would be!” said Eveleen -scornfully. “Why, I’d never be able to resist trying it on Ambrose, -whom nothing on earth will move, and the General would soon find out -what a useless sort of thing it was.” She stopped suddenly, catching -on her husband’s face the uneasy look which showed that he could not -decide whether she was in earnest or not, and a disagreeable thought -struck her. Richard had said she was like the General. She had felt -embarrassed this evening when the General put into words his deepest -thoughts. Could it be that Richard also was embarrassed when she spoke -out her thoughts without considering whether they were likely to be -acceptable or not? She brushed the question aside quickly. “But I -assure you Sir Harry considers it right and proper to lose his temper -when the occasion calls for it,” she said. -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you!” agreed Brian dolefully. “Ain’t it a pity, though, -that we can’t pull a string and make him lose it when <i>we</i> think the -occasion calls for it? With the Khans, now! If they once saw him in -one of his rages, sure they’d be tumbling over one another to try and -appease him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, old Gul Ali will never dare to stand out against him when -he has once heard him talk seriously,” said Eveleen. “You don’t really -think they’ll fight, Ambrose?” -</p> - -<p> -“They would not fight if they knew him as we know him,” said Richard -slowly. “But with these fellows, his violence and severity defeats its -own object. They are incapable of believing any one could take such a -tone seriously with persons of their importance. He must be -endeavouring to hide his weakness, they imagine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now!” said Brian. “And what can you do with people like that at -all?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray don’t ask me. If they can’t see the difference between him and -Bayard, how is it to be got into their heads? Bayard might employ -threats, but I can’t believe the utmost exigency would have driven him -actually to demand the annexation of the country. But this chap will -do it if they don’t behave themselves.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, our own people are learning to know him,” laughed Brian. -“Munshi was telling me to-day that they say he ain’t merely a -commander, but the Governor-General himself in a military disguise. -Some of ’em say he’s the Duke come back, but the old sepoys, who knew -the Duke forty years ago, won’t have that. But they all agreed he -might be an uncle or cousin of Her Majesty’s, sent out to cope with -the posture of things here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Aye, they are beginning to call him the Padishah,” said Richard. -“Well, if the tales get to Gul Ali’s ears, so much the better, if they -make him disposed to submit. But he can’t sign a treaty by himself, -unfortunately, and by the time the rest are assembled, he will have -been in as many different minds as there are Khans.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d dearly like to see Sir Harry talk to him for his good,” said -Eveleen eagerly. “Where is it they’ll meet? Will we—ladies, I -mean—be allowed to be there?” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not,” said Richard crushingly. “It will be across the -river—in that garden with the palm-trees just on the other side.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure you needn’t be so horrid about it! I dare say there won’t be -much to see after all—maybe nothing.” -</p> - -<p> -As it happened, that was exactly what there was. Sir Harry and his -staff, all in full uniform, set out by boat, reached the meeting-place -in good time, and waited there—in vain, returning after an hour or so -in high dudgeon. Nor was their wrath mollified by a message from Gul -Ali, conveying a perfunctory apology for his non-appearance, and -appointing a meeting the next day in another garden, six miles down -the river. This time it was Sir Harry who did not keep the -appointment, returning the curt answer that he was not going to be -insulted. Colonel Bayard’s partisans went about with long faces all -day. Were the Khans to be defied on their own soil by this ignorant -stranger? But by the evening, when reports began to filter in, they -saw reason to change their tune. The messengers had found Gul Ali’s -son Karimdâd waiting half-way, nominally to receive the General with -honour, but actually—every one was sure of it—to note what troops he -brought with him, and send word to his father, who had six thousand -Arabits concealed in and about the garden, and reinforcements within -call. Sir Harry was too much gratified by this proof of his foresight -to exult unduly. -</p> - -<p> -“I should have looked foolish—going into the middle of a body of -Arabits with only a few officers at my back,” he said. “Whether there -were six thousand or six hundred, they could have done for us pretty -thoroughly. Nice old chap, Gul Ali!” -</p> - -<p> -“The messengers say he had heard a rumour that you intended seizing -him, General,” said Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the Ethiopian affair rising up again to plague us! But I am -not going to have it perpetually thrown in my teeth. Write to the -fellow, Ambrose, that I am no traitor, as he evidently is, and that if -I wanted to seize him, I could and would come and pull him out of -Qadirabad itself. Send it at once.” -</p> - -<p> -The effect of the message was instantaneous. Apparently Gul Ali felt -the garden where he was encamped less secure even than Qadirabad. He, -his son and his army, evacuated their camp during the night, and the -next day were out of reach in the desert. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch11"> -CHAPTER XI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">DEEDS, NOT WORDS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> seemed that Gul Ali’s ignominious flight had served to stimulate -in his brother Shahbaz Khan the amiable instinct to profit by his -disgrace, for very shortly afterwards he also arrived on the bank of -the river, and sent to request the honour of beholding the General’s -face. Sir Harry appointed as meeting-place the garden where Gul Ali -had failed to present himself, and crossed the river attended only by -two aides-de-camp and Richard Ambrose as interpreter. To the -remonstrances of those who urged that Shahbaz was as likely as his -brother to attempt treachery, he replied calmly that he liked -Shahbaz—he was a sportsman, by far the best of the Khans—and -declined precautions. Yet he left Brian behind, lest Mrs Ambrose -should be robbed of husband and brother in one day; and Brian, panting -to show his mettle, spent the time in trying to make Eveleen nervous -by devising plans for a rescue. Nervous Eveleen declined to be—it was -not in her where any daylight danger was concerned; but she was quite -as ready to be excited as Brian himself, and firmly determined to make -part of any expedition that might set out. But the day passed quietly. -No boat struggled across with a piteous demand for succour, and -nothing in the nature of commotion on the opposite bank rewarded the -watchers who had posted themselves with glasses on the highest towers -of the old fort, resolved to be the first to report calamity, even if -they could not avert it. Precisely at the appointed time, the -General’s boat was seen returning, and a sigh of relief went -up—possibly tinged slightly with regret on the part of the prophets -of evil. -</p> - -<p> -“Shahbaz Khan is a precious fine fellow!” declared Sir Harry in high -good humour, to those who had ridden to the landing-stage to meet -him—Eveleen and Brian among them; “and he shall have the Turban, or -Hal Lennox will know the reason why.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did he give you a good reception, Sir Harry?” asked Eveleen, rather -unnecessarily, as it occurred to her the moment after. -</p> - -<p> -“Tiptop. Troops drawn up to receive us—everything most correct. -Double pavilion pitched—into the inner room of which Shahbaz and I -retire after the formal compliments, with Ambrose to interpret. -Shahbaz declared honour of receiving me as his guest is quite enough, -but if I have no objection he <i>would</i> be glad to know where he stands. -He has cut himself off from the other Khans by declaring himself our -friend, and they are encouraging Gul Ali to oust him from the -succession. Would he have to suffer for his loyalty to us? Of course -there was only one answer to that. ‘I care nothing for this Turban -nonsense, but you are the rightful heir, and so long as you remain -loyal, the Governor-General will protect you in your rights.’ He was -uncommonly pleased at that, and said to Ambrose that he could have -vindicated his rights by himself, but our backing would make his task -much easier. A fine chap, a fine chap! worth ten of that old sot Gul -Ali. It’s a pleasure to find a fellow of his kind to support.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then will you be dethroning Gul Ali?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not as long as he behaves himself. But there’s talk again of his -resigning in favour of his son, who has no right to succeed until -Shahbaz has had his turn.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you won’t alter that queer plan of theirs?” -</p> - -<p> -“How can I? It’s nothing but folly, of course, but as long as the -present state of things lasts it must go on. If I had let Shahbaz -broach the question, I don’t doubt he’d have tried to get me to -promise his son should succeed him, but that don’t come into my -province. If this nonsense of Brotherhood rule is done away with, and -Shahbaz becomes sole Khan, it may be settled his way, but that’s for -Lord Maryport to decide—not me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder how can they go on with such a silly way of governing—all -reigning at once,” said Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Why not, ma’am? Precious convenient way for them—you can never pin -’em down to anything. Ask your good husband what all the letters are -about which are turning his hair as grey as mine. Oh, I forgot! he -don’t tell you things—eh? Well, then, when I write to demand why the -Khans have stopped the boats going down the river and demanded toll, -contrary to treaty, the first thing is to deny it absolutely. With -shocking bad manners I contradict ’em flatly—it has been done, and -why? In a great hurry half the Khans reply that they had no hand in -it; it was the doing of some of the other Khans’ servants. Then why -have not the servants been punished? I demand. ‘Oh, they were not -their servants, but the other chaps’.’ ‘Very well, then, if you don’t -punish ’em, I shall,’ says I. ‘Oh,’ say the Khans, ‘the poor fellows -were ignorant; we have admonished ’em, and bid ’em not do it again.’ -It happens again the next week. ‘Precious lot of good your admonitions -are!’ says I. ‘Be so good as to send the poor ignorant chaps to me, -and <i>I</i>’ll admonish ’em.’ ‘Alas!’ says they, ‘the servants, being -unaware of the honour destined for ’em, have fled.’ ‘Oh, very well,’ -says I; ‘princes who give their seals and their authority to their -servants to use must expect to be held responsible for their misdeeds. -The fines due will be deducted from the sum which was to have been -paid to their Highnesses as rent for our cantonments.’ Silence for a -bit, while they think hard to find some way of getting round me. -Bright idea! they’ll put an utter stop to the steamer traffic by -forbidding woodcutting on either bank of the river on pain of -death—making out that every patch of brushwood is part of their -private preserves. ‘Sorry!’ says I, ‘but the traffic must be -maintained somehow. If the wood ain’t to be taken from the -<i>shikargahs</i>, why, I must destroy Qadirabad bit by bit, and burn the -wood from the houses.’ Then they lament together in durbar over the -wicked stiff-neckedness of that old rapscallion the Bahadar Jang, and -talk big about the steps they are on the point of taking to teach him -a lesson. ‘We will handle the English so vilely,’ say they, ‘that -they’ll call out in despair, “Great Heaven, what have we done that -Thou shouldst let loose such devils upon us?”’ Which is a very proper -sentiment for patriotic princes defending their country against the -invader, but things of that sort should be done first, and talked -about afterwards.” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye tell me then they won’t be meaning it at all, Sir Harry?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mean it? They mean to slip out of all their engagements, and all -punishment for breaking ’em, by dint of shifting the blame on one -another and on their servants, and if they could frighten me off, it -would suit them nicely. But that they ain’t going to do. When the new -treaty is presented to ’em, they’ll sign it or they’ll refuse it, and -we shall know where we are, and if they sign it and break it, then -also I shall know what to do—and I’ll do it!” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll just be waiting now for Bayard to come back, and then the -treaty will be presented?” suggested Eveleen. Sir Harry turned a -ferocious glance upon her. -</p> - -<p> -“Waiting for Colonel Bayard? Certainly not. I don’t need Colonel -Bayard to help me make treaties, ma’am—much obliged to you for -thinking of it!” with deadly irony. “All he’s wanted for is to help -with the arrangements about lands and so on, which will have to be -made under the treaty—and which he ought to know something about, -after his years here. The treaty will go to Qadirabad by Stewart as -soon as it’s finished translating into Persian, and the moment he’s -well away I begin to move my troops across the river—where they’ll be -equally ready to occupy the stolen Habshiabad districts and hand ’em -back to the Nawab, or to move on Qadirabad if the Khans turn nasty. -Wait for Bayard, indeed!” -</p> - -<p> -He went on growling to himself for some time, until Eveleen turned the -conversation tactfully to horses. It was inadvisable to mention -Colonel Bayard’s name to him again, but to her husband she said when -they were alone— -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye think Bayard will understand, Ambrose, that he comes back merely -as assistant to the General?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid not.” Richard spoke gravely. “I doubt if he would return -to find himself nothing but an underling.” -</p> - -<p> -“You think they’ll not work well together?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think the best chance of it would be for the treaty to be -signed—if signed it is to be—before Bayard gets back. Then he’ll -find plenty to do in alleviating the feelings of the Khans, knowing -that the thing is done and can’t be undone, and their best hope is to -submit gracefully. Something must have happened to detain him in -Bombay, or we should have had him back before this. Whatever it be, I -trust it may detain him a little longer.” -</p> - -<p> -It was not often that Richard spoke so openly and so seriously, and -Eveleen was duly impressed. For the moment, that is—for the life -going on around her was so interesting and engrossing that it was hard -to realise Colonel Bayard as a possible disturbing influence. Sir -Harry might expect to carry through the treaty peacefully, but his -troops were longing for the Khans to refuse to sign. A new spirit had -been breathed into the disintegrated force when the Peninsular veteran -took it in hand. The bonds of discipline were tightened, something -like <i>esprit de corps</i> was growing up between Queen’s and Company’s -men, which were traditionally at daggers drawn, and the native -regiments—in looking down upon which they had been wont to find their -sole point of agreement; life might be harder, but it was incomparably -more thrilling. The two or three thousand men at Sahar would have -charged cheering upon the great hosts of Granthistan next door, and -gone through them with the bayonet, so said Sir Harry, who -realised—no one better—the change he had brought about in the spirit -of his command. He said it to Eveleen and her husband, when they came -upon him by the river, watching the tents and heavy baggage of a -native regiment, which was due to cross on the morrow, being ferried -over in haste before darkness fell to the camp which was in process of -formation outside Bori. -</p> - -<p> -“Almost a pity to see ’em so full of fight, with no enemy handy!” he -added, a little gloomily. “But what a bloodthirsty wretch I am—almost -as bad as the Bombay chaps make me out—to be regretting the strife I -have strained every nerve to avert! If the poor fellows themselves -know no better than to desire war, their commander at least should be -superior to such a passion.” He was talking as though to himself, and -Richard broke in rather hastily— -</p> - -<p> -“Do I understand you, General, that the Khans have decided to submit? -Is there news from Stewart?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, a <i>cossid</i> [messenger] came in after you left. The Khans are -sending Vakils to sign the treaty—under protest, naturally enough, -but still to sign.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then the rumours were nothing at all but talk?” said Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing whatever. If there had been even some attempt at resistance I -should have felt—foolishly enough—less unjust, but these poor Khans -are so meek, so submissive, that one has the impression of behaving in -the most shockingly arbitrary fashion. Had there been any truth in -last week’s story of Gul Ali’s actual resignation of the Turban to -that violent youth, his son, I could almost have welcomed the chance -of an honest tussle, but it’s like raining blows on a feather bed. You -don’t feel this?” he turned sharply on Richard. “You still believe -they mean to fight?” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t believe they have assembled sixty thousand men for nothing, -General—nor yet that the younger Khans have invited those armed bands -we hear about into the desert solely to enjoy a picnic in their -company.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very true. We shall soon see. Those bands must disperse—or be -dispersed—before the treaty is signed. We have ample force to meet -any resistance they can offer. But sixty thousand! No, my dear -Ambrose, I can’t credit such a figure as that. I know you have -gathered it precious carefully from the reports of our spies—but -after all, what trust can you put in the word of a spy? Oh, I know I -make use of ’em, but I discount their reports pretty shrewdly. So -don’t be frightened, ma’am”—with a benevolent smile at Eveleen—“by -your good man’s dark forebodings. I’ll tell you this, Lord Maryport -offered me additional troops either from the Upper Provinces or -Bombay, or both, and I refused ’em. So you see what I think about -it—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Frightened!” said Eveleen, in high scorn. “And pray why would I be -frightened, Sir Harry?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, indeed? But don’t think I blame your prudence, Ambrose,” noting -the younger man’s silence. “From my soul I believe I have men enough -to cope with any force the Khans can bring against us. To have asked -for more would have meant delay—two months, three months, four, -perhaps,—and there we are landed in the middle of the hot weather. -You yourself have told me what that means for military operations -here—not a soldier, European or native, able to show his nose on the -parade-ground by daylight, men struck down by the dozen in a march of -a few miles. No, if we have to fight, we’ll fight at once—the sooner -the better, so long as Stewart has got back. I’m sure they have given -me pretexts enough, if there’s any humbug about signing the treaty, -and they know what I think about ’em—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“They must be uncommonly stupid if they don’t, General.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that’s what they are—sodden with drink and drugs. If my letters -don’t wake ’em up a bit—— See here, ma’am, if this don’t strike you -as rayther neat. Twice in this last day or so poor Ambrose has had to -write to Gul Ali for me. The young bloods have been talking big about -burning our camp over at Bori there, and I knew their besotted elders -might well be induced to give such an order over-night, and in the -morning forget all about the matter and deny giving it. So I told Gul -Ali that if I heard any more of night attacks on my camp he and the -rest would be made to look precious silly, for not only would every -one that tried it get killed, but I should march on Qadirabad and -destroy it, leaving only the Fort standing, to show my respect for -their Highnesses, for all they couldn’t keep their people in order. So -they know what to look forward to now.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure they’ll not see the joke,” said Eveleen sorrowfully. “They -will be too stupid, the creatures!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, this will touch ’em, I imagine. Gul Ali has had his emissaries -in Bori since the first detachment crossed there, bribing our men to -try and get ’em to desert. They have not been able to do it so far, -but it don’t answer to let that sort of thing go on. So I gave the old -fellow a friendly tip. He was paying his men to corrupt mine, -believing he was getting good value for his money, says I. Well, he -was being choused right and left. When any money did pass from his -chaps to mine, they brought it straight to me, but he might take my -word for it that most of it went in high living and never came near -the troops at all. That ought to make a little unpleasantness between -the old villain and his precious tools—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“He ought be feeling terribly small,” agreed Eveleen. “But he will not -be any fonder of you for that, Sir Harry.” -</p> - -<p> -“That, ma’am, is a consideration which I can safely assert never held -back any Lennox that ever lived from saying a neat thing when he had -it to say,” returned the General, with perfect truth. -</p> - -<p> -The next day the station enjoyed a mild excitement, for Stewart came -in by land, attended only by his orderly and personal servants, -whereas he had gone down to Qadirabad by steamer, with an escort of -thirty of the Khemistan Horse. At first people thought there had been -another Ethiopian disaster, resulting in another sole survivor, but it -soon became known that the escort were returning safe and sound by -water, while Stewart had taken the quicker land route that the General -might be aware as soon as possible of the true state of affairs. Yet -the situation was not made much clearer by his report. It was true -that the Khans had not rejected the treaty, though the Vakils they -were sending to Sahar were empowered rather to complain of their -wrongs than to sign on their behalf. But Stewart had had great -difficulty in getting away, after being insulted in the streets and -coldly received in durbar, and on his return journey he had only -avoided having to fight his way by exercising extreme self-restraint -masked by ferocious bluff. He found an enemy in every Arabit he met, -and his life was in danger more than once, but the Khemis crowded to -him in secret to express their longing that the British would take -over the country, though in the presence of their masters they -appeared indifferent or hostile. To him it seemed impossible to doubt -that the Khans meant to fight, and that the Vakils, if they ever -arrived, were intended merely to stretch out matters and gain time for -their employers; but Sir Harry was not to be hurried. He would go on -massing his troops at Bori, but nothing should induce him to take the -first hostile step. His moderation seemed to be justified when, two -days after Stewart, the Vakils arrived, though there was little -satisfaction to be obtained from them. Possibly the Khans had come to -an end of their excuses, for their sole answer to Sir Harry’s charges -was to deny them all—adding that guiltless and oppressed as they -were, they had no resource but to sign the treaty forced upon them. -Perhaps they knew that this was their best way of dealing with the -General, who was thrown into a perfect frenzy by finding himself -accused of injustice, and laboured for hours to convince the -messengers—and through them their masters—that they were being dealt -with leniently rather than oppressively. He might even have consented -to refer the treaty back to Lord Maryport, with the modifications the -Vakils proceeded humbly to suggest, had the Khans possessed sufficient -common-sense to maintain their pose of injured innocents. But -stimulated perhaps by his apparent gullibility, they struck out a new -line of annoyance, holding up the <i>dâks</i> and robbing the mails, with -the result that every trace of meekness and compassion vanished, and -Sir Harry sent off a sledge-hammer letter to Gul Ali, ordering him -instantly to disband his troops, with the alternative of immediate -war. It might have been supposed that this time the Khans were -confronted with a straight issue that could not be evaded, but that -they were not yet destitute of wiles was clear one morning when -Richard was summoned before daylight to attend his chief. Brian, -coming to the edge of the office verandah to bid him hurry, added a -whispered word of warning. -</p> - -<p> -“Look out! the old boy is dancing mad!” -</p> - -<p> -If Sir Harry was not exactly dancing, he was doing something very like -it—rushing about the office in a series of short dashes, as he was -brought up by the walls or the furniture. He could not speak -coherently. -</p> - -<p> -“Sit down—write!” he jerked out. “That old fool—that old -villain——!” a string of expletives in various Southern European -tongues followed. “Thinks he’s diddled me, does he? <i>I</i>’ll diddle -him!” -</p> - -<p> -So far there seemed nothing to write, and Richard made a show of -elaborate preparation, selecting a large sheet of paper, choosing a -quill with care, and trying it on his thumb-nail. Then he looked up -with respectful attention. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, why don’t you write? Begin. ‘Khan!’ None of your flummery of -polite phrases—I won’t have it. Let the fellow get it hot and -strong.” -</p> - -<p> -“‘Khan!’” repeated Richard obediently, secure in the knowledge that an -English letter, however violent in expression, could do no harm. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, go on! You know what I want said—pitch it him hot, I tell you. -Can’t be too strong.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps if I knew which of the Khans it was, General, and what he has -done——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Done? Which of ’em? Why, old Gul Ali, of course. Is there ever -anything wholly preposterous that the old idiot hasn’t got a hand in? -As to what he’s done—why, he’s trying to embarrass me, sir! made up -his mind to tie my hands! Says he’s helpless in the power of his -family, who are keeping him prisoner, but he’ll escape and come to me -and be my suppliant—lay his turban at my feet! Escape? yes—escape -the punishment due to him, so he thinks—get me on his side, come out -top dog after all! But I won’t have it. He shan’t come here and -slobber over my boots! If I have to fight, I’ll fight with my hands -free. Tell him I won’t receive him here—won’t see his dirty old face. -He’s to go to his brother Shahbaz, if he goes anywhere, and stay with -him till I send him orders to the contrary.” -</p> - -<p> -“As you please, General.” Richard was writing busily. -</p> - -<p> -Sir Harry came to a threatening stop just behind him. “Well, sir, -what’s wrong? What d’ye mean, sir?” -</p> - -<p> -“In this country it ain’t considered particularly healthy for an aged -relative to entrust his safety to his next heir, General.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, that’s it, is it?” Sir Harry laughed loudly. “If he chooses to -resign the Turban to Shahbaz, so much the better. If Shahbaz thinks -fit to exercise a little persuasion, I’m sure I have no objection. I -have done with the canting old dog. Now let his brother deal with him, -as I have no doubt he knows how. Then I’ll make short work of the -rebellious young cubs.” -</p> - -<p> -The letter written by Richard, if less peremptory in its terms than -Sir Harry would have wished, produced the desired effect. Gul Ali made -no further attempt to take refuge with the British, but turned aside -meekly to the camp of his brother, while the unfilial Karimdâd, from -whose violence he asserted that he had fled, took possession of his -fortresses, and announced loudly that he would hold them against the -man who called himself the Bahadar Jang or any other Farangi in -creation. Sir Harry chuckled, and completed his consolidation at Bori, -but it was not his measures that alarmed Karimdâd. From Shahbaz -Khan’s fortress of Bidi came the news Richard had expected. Gul Ali -had resigned the Turban—of his own free will, it was carefully -added—in favour of his brother. The result was electrical. Karimdâd -and his cousins lost no time in quitting the strongholds they had -seized, and fled to Sultankot, far in the desert—a fortress which was -declared and believed by all Khemistan to be not only impregnable but -unreachable for an enemy, owing to the difficulties of the route and -the lack of water. Sir Harry chuckled again, and with a calmness that -staggered his own troops as much as his opponents, announced that he -was going to take Sultankot. It might be a hundred miles in the -desert, but if the Arabit bands could make the journey, so could -trained troops. The fortress might be impregnable to a native army, -but not to Europeans provided with artillery. Parts of the way might -be impassable for heavy guns, but he would rely on his field-pieces. -The wells might be destroyed or poisoned, vegetation might be lacking, -but he would carry water and forage with him. The route might be -unknown, but he would get guides from Shahbaz Khan, and in case the -opportunity might be too tempting, Shahbaz Khan himself should come -too. No smoothing-out of complications at one blow by allowing the -British force to be overwhelmed in the desert, leaving him undisputed -master of Khemistan! Shahbaz Khan professed unbounded delight in the -honour conferred upon him, but begged the General politely not to -impose upon himself the labour of such a march. He himself would -undertake to reduce Sultankot with his own troops, and bring the -rebellious princelings to heel. But Sir Harry refused to be spared, -and gave his reason openly, though happily not to his prospective -ally. It was just as well that Shahbaz Khan should be convinced of the -ability of British troops to reach and capture any objective -whatever—no matter how distant and difficult,—as a gentle hint that -when he was placed in power he also would find no place of refuge if -he chose to misbehave. The British force, fretting at the leash which -held it inactive after its hard training, was ready to go anywhere and -fight anything, and moved out joyfully from Bori into the desert, to -the number—after the manner of Anglo-Indian armies—of three thousand -fighting men and twenty thousand camp-followers. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen being what she was, it was natural—though Richard did not -think so—that the prospect of actual fighting should excite her -nearly as much as it did the soldiers. Returning one evening from a -visit to the camp at Bori under Brian’s escort, she burst into her -husband’s dressing-room, where he was trying hard to decide which of -his indispensable campaigning requisites were absolutely -indispensable, and which only relatively so. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a great sight!” she cried, without troubling to specify what the -sight was—“but terrible, too. I wonder does Sir Harry feel himself a -murderer when he thinks how few of those splendid horses and men may -come back?” -</p> - -<p> -Richard’s lips twitched. Eveleen made it a grievance against him that -he had no sense of humour, but it sometimes seemed to him—as to other -married people with Irish partners—that the accusation might as fitly -apply to the accuser. “You are uncommonly cheering in your view of our -prospects, my dear,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -“But what d’ye think yourself? Is there a chance of success? Truly, -now?” -</p> - -<p> -“Under any other commander, not the faintest chance. Under Sir -Henry—well, he has such a turn for performing the impossible when -he’s said he will, that there may be a hope. But mind you, the -enterprise will either be the most horrible disaster in history, or -the maddest success.” -</p> - -<p> -“And which would you say ’twill be?” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke as though reluctantly. “Well, having had some opportunity of -observing the General, I pin my faith to his madness, which has more -method than the sound mind of most men. I believe he will succeed—not -without loss, of course; precious heavy loss, perhaps.” -</p> - -<p> -But Eveleen paid no heed to the qualification. Quite unexpectedly, for -he was standing looking meditatively at the floor, with his arms full -of clothes—his servant having discreetly faded away,—Richard found -her head on his shoulder, and heard her coaxing voice in his ear— -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, Ambrose, let me come too!” -</p> - -<p> -“Let <i>you</i> come? Nonsense! certainly not.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, now, do!” -</p> - -<p> -“I tell you I won’t hear of it. Am I dreaming, or are you? or is the -General’s madness infectious?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why would you be so unkind? Just think how nice, when you come tired -to your tent after a march, to find your wife waiting to welcome you, -and your slippers warming—no, I suppose it ought be cooling—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“In my bath, I suppose—if there was one, or any slippers either. My -dear, don’t be silly. Do you know that we take no baggage with us -after the first day or two? You have no conception of the misery—the -squalor—of an ordinary desert campaign, and this will be far worse.” -</p> - -<p> -“What horrid words you use!” complained Eveleen softly, stroking his -shoulder-strap. “Didn’t you hear Sir Harry himself telling how Lady -Cinnamond was with Sir Arthur at Salamanca, and even rode in the -charge?” -</p> - -<p> -“That was Sir Arthur’s business, not mine. If I had been the Duke, I -would have cashiered him for allowing it. But perhaps the unfortunate -wretch was sufficiently punished by the anxiety he must have been -in—to say nothing of looking such a fool. And in any case, war in -Europe ain’t like war here. That’s a gentlemanly affair to this. You -stay at home and mind your house.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I’ll only waste your money and bring you to debt and disgrace. -You’ve said so, often. Will you tell me now, am I the sort of wife to -sit on the verandah darning your stockings and dropping salt tears on -them because you’re away, thinking back over the future and looking -forward to the past?—no, I mean it’s t’other way about. But anyhow, -the sort of wife I am is the one that rides knee to knee with you in -the ranks, and takes her turn in keeping watch at night——” -</p> - -<p> -“And can never keep awake if she tries! Won’t do, my dear. You must -remember you ain’t an Amazon, nor yet Joan of Arc, but the wife of a -British officer in the nineteenth century—a much more prosaic person. -The verandah is your lot, I fear, but we won’t insist on the darning. -I trust I ain’t unreasonable.” -</p> - -<p> -“Unreasonable? The man that insisted on wearing stockings of my -darning would be stark staring mad!” cried Eveleen, with terrific -emphasis. “And will you tell me, Major Ambrose, if you wanted that -sort of wife, why you married me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, pray, my dear, don’t let us have that over again! I gave you my -reason once, and if it don’t satisfy you, I’m sorry, for I have no -other to offer. Now behave like a sensible woman, and make up your -mind to be happy and employ yourself usefully in my absence. Come!” -with a bright idea, “how would you like to buy another horse and begin -to break him in?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll remember that!” gloomily, yet with a distinct lightening of the -gloom. “But I warn you, if this is the way you answer me, you won’t -find me asking you another time. I’ll just come.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, very well. If I know anything of the General, you’ll find -yourself sent back under escort, after a lecture which will prove to -you once for all that he has a rough side to his tongue, though ladies -don’t often feel it.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you knew anything of me, you’d know you were merely inviting me to -prove you wrong. You’ll see!” He might have been excused for imagining -she had some specific plan in view, but her mind was roaming vaguely -over various possibilities of making herself disagreeable. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch12"> -CHAPTER XII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">AN ERROR OF JUDGMENT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Life</span> at Sahar after the departure of the expedition was every whit -as dull as Eveleen had known it would be. For a whole week she held -out obstinately against that tempting suggestion of Richard’s that she -should buy another horse—for the sole reason that the suggestion was -his. But involuntarily her mind was noting and registering the points -of possible colts as she passed them, and when the week was over, she -felt—relief mingling with triumph in having resisted for so -long—that the curb of self-restraint might be relaxed. Perhaps the -fact that she had just received a letter from Richard helped to -lighten her spirits, though his letters might best be described by the -term arid, while Brian’s—save for one scrawl on the back of an old -official envelope—were represented by a postscript added to her -husband’s, “Your brother desires his fond love, and will be certain to -write to-morrow.” But Eveleen was aware of her own deficiencies as a -letter-writer, and with unusual fairness, expected no better from -other people. -</p> - -<p> -She was just going to dress for her evening ride, intending to -requisition the escort of one of the subalterns left unwillingly at -Sahar for a visit to a tribal camp not far off, where she had taken -note of a likely-looking steed, when the sound of an arrival outside, -and a masculine voice enquiring for the Beebee, brought her hastily to -the verandah, anticipating a messenger from the front. But it was -Colonel Bayard who ran up the steps to greet her—debonair and -friendly as ever, and with an air of increased cheerfulness which was -almost elation. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, it is I myself!” he cried, shaking hands so vigorously as almost -to forget to bow. “It’s good to be here again, Mrs Ambrose—I don’t -even regret my lost furlough, though my passage home was taken for -this week. But the delays in getting back from Bombay! I have been -fretting like a war-horse—but not for his reason. I don’t want to -plunge into a battle—far from it. My one desire is to prevent -fighting. It was a horrid blow to hear at the landing-stage that Sir -Henry had actually marched against the Khans, but I trust—I hope—I -may yet be in time to put an end to this lamentable adventure. And how -are you? but I need not enquire—your looks speak for you. Richard in -good health, I trust? but unhappy, I am sure, about this madness of -the General’s. Well, we shall put that right, I hope. I must start -to-night to catch up the force. Can’t be too thankful I am not a day -or two later.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come in, come in!” said Eveleen, when she was allowed to utter a -word, and she led the way, not sorry to turn her face from him for a -moment. A dreadful suspicion was growing upon her that Colonel Bayard -was under a wholly false impression as to the footing on which he -stood and the object for which he had been recalled, but she could not -dash his hopes by saying so. An Englishwoman might have told him -bluntly Sir Harry’s views regarding him, but no Irishwoman could -possibly bring herself to do more than hint at things in a roundabout -way, leaving him to arrive at the truth for himself, if he could. -“After all,” she said, rather nervously, “it might not have made much -difference, d’ye think?” -</p> - -<p> -“Every difference, so long as there has been no bloodshed, ma’am. If -we can only avoid that, I don’t despair of accommodating the whole -matter.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but if you knew the way the Khans have been playing fast and -loose! Nothing will hold them to their engagements. How can you reach -an accommodation?” -</p> - -<p> -“They are puzzled and irritated by treatment they don’t understand,” -he responded eagerly. “But it’s true I don’t know the precise position -of affairs at this moment. That’s why I come to you, since I hear you -had a letter from Ambrose this afternoon.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose believes Sir Harry will reach Sultankot, though not without -loss.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how? and what does he propose to do when he gets there?” -</p> - -<p> -“His plan is to take his whole force to the edge of the desert, so -they say, and then to mount five or six hundred men on camels and make -a dash across. Two guns he means to carry with him, and they, he -believes, will compel surrender. If not, he’ll storm the place.” -</p> - -<p> -“Madness! midsummer madness!” cried Colonel Bayard sorrowfully. “Why, -he can have no conception even of the number of camels needed for such -a force.” -</p> - -<p> -“There has been difficulty in getting camels, I know. The contractors -have been fined for not bringing enough.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course! What could Lennox expect? They know the expedition is -foredoomed to disaster, and they will keep their beasts out of it if -they can. And with insufficient transport——” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t say ’twas insufficient. Brian says”—Eveleen smiled at the -remembrance of the note scrawled on the envelope—“that the General is -reconsidering his high opinion of his dear nice camels now he sees -them at work, and that he’d be sorely tempted to shorten them all by a -neck if it could be done without diminishing their usefulness. There’s -four miles and a half of them, so he says.” -</p> - -<p> -“Four miles and a half? Fifteen feet each? Only fifteen hundred,” he -calculated rapidly. “And the General’s own things must require a -hundred at least—more probably two—and other officers in proportion. -What is there left——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now there you’re wrong.” Eveleen smiled openly. “Four camels and no -more—that’s the General’s share. A soldier’s tent—his fine grand one -is left here—and everything else to match. And other people are cut -down just the same.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is more and more serious. I had hoped he might be held back by -the inadequacy of his transport, but he may succeed in actually -penetrating into the desert. And there—what with spies and false -guides to lead him astray or into ambushes, and secret emissaries who -will cut the water-skins at night and leave him destitute, and that -dastardly practice of poisoning the wells—why, we have all the -materials for the most shocking disaster that has ever befallen -British arms!” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure he has Shahbaz Khan with him, and he swears he’ll make him -taste all the water first! It’s a pity it wouldn’t be that old wretch -Gul Ali, but Ambrose says he has gone and made himself scarce again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Made himself scarce? Do I understand Sir Henry was so ill-advised as -to subject the poor old fellow to personal restraint?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it! He was staying with his brother Shahbaz—quite free, -and as happy as possible. Sir Harry calls on Shahbaz, and sends word -he’ll pay his respects to Gul Ali to-morrow. But when to-morrow comes -the poor silly old creature is gone, leaving word that he never really -meant to resign the Turban—’twas all a mistake.” -</p> - -<p> -“A mistake! Of course; who could have thought otherwise? He hoped to -placate Sir Henry by submission, and finding, as he must think, that -his malice still pursues him, he withdraws his abdication and seeks -safety in flight.” -</p> - -<p> -“But ’twas all properly written out in his Koran, in the presence of -all the holy men they could get together at Bidi,” persisted Eveleen. -“Shahbaz Khan may have persuaded him to do it, but having done it, -would you say he oughtn’t stick to it? Sometimes I wonder”—she -stopped a moment—“will Shahbaz Khan be making mischief?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s possible. I have always thought him a fine fellow, and the -injured rather than the injurer, but if he is hoping to secure the -Turban by favour of the General—— Tell me what you mean, Mrs -Ambrose.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why,” said Eveleen, rather flattered, “I wondered mightn’t he have -got Gul Ali to resign the Turban by telling him his life was in danger -from the General? The old man is silly enough to believe it. Then when -the General says he will be coming to call, Shahbaz humbugs the old -creature with some tale that he’ll take him away prisoner. Do you see, -it’s his interest that the two of them wouldn’t meet? So the old man -gets away—his brother making things easy for him—and the General -thinks worse of Gul Ali than ever, but only scolds Shahbaz for not -keeping better guard over him.” -</p> - -<p> -“You have it! That’s it, I’m convinced, Mrs Ambrose! Shahbaz is a -villain, who is abusing the General’s confidence shockingly. Poor old -Gul Ali has been shamefully treated. As for the General, he must be -blind not to see the whole thing is a hum—but knowing no Persian, of -course—— Well, I am tenfold thankful I came to you. A lady’s insight -will often penetrate where our obtuser minds are at fault. But now to -try and put this wrong right. A dash into the desert after the -General—he must be stopped at any cost in his head long course——” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder wouldn’t you find that a little difficult?” suggested -Eveleen. “When Sir Harry has made up his mind—and after thinking -things over so long——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I see you are afraid I may speak too warmly! Nay, you need have -no fear. I have not a word of blame for him. The fault lies with the -delays which kept me from his side when he summoned me, and forced -him, as he no doubt believes, to this rash attempt. But his is a noble -mind. Few men, confronted with such a situation, would have realised -themselves incompetent to deal with it, and called back to their -councils the person they had superseded. Believe me, he shall know the -honour I feel for him. Sir Henry’s march stopped, then—and Heaven -grant it may be before there’s any loss of life!—I must return hither -at once, and make all speed to Qadirabad. If I can arrive before the -Khans, outraged by the General’s high-handed proceedings, have given -orders for a universal muster and the extermination of the British, -all will be well. I am their friend, and they recognise me as such. -Continually, as I came up the river, messengers have intercepted me, -bearing greetings from their Highnesses, and entreaties to come -ashore. But I refused to land, even at the capital, merely sending a -letter of apology to the durbar, pleading the necessity of consulting -with the General before I could wait upon them. But now”—he was -walking up and down, speaking in short hurried sentences—“I will go -to them, and I humbly trust, take peace with me. They know me and -trust me, and I go to them in complete confidence.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s quite safe, would you say?” demanded Eveleen, a stupendous idea -seizing her. -</p> - -<p> -“Absolutely. Why not? I assure you you need have no fear for me, -though I know your kind heart.” He smiled at her. -</p> - -<p> -“But I have not. Tell me now, you would take Mrs Bayard with you if -she was here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Undoubtedly.” Colonel Bayard’s voice was valiant. -</p> - -<p> -“Then would you take me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I’m afraid Ambrose might have some slight objection to -that—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, if he was going—of course I meant that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then your presence could do nothing but good, as far as I can see. -But he ain’t likely to be with me, I fear, so I must deny myself that -pleasure as well. Many thanks for all you have told me. Now I am -prepared. Good-bye, good-bye! If I succeed in curbing the General’s -rashness, the credit will be largely yours.” -</p> - -<p> -He was down the steps and off again before Eveleen had done more than -realise he was still labouring under the delusion that he was the -person who counted, and not the General. But her mind was so full of -her new idea that she consoled herself with the assurance that ’twas -not her fault; she had done what she could to put him right; and if he -would only take the truth from Sir Harry’s own lips—why, he must. -Apparently he snatched some sort of meal at the Club or the Mess-house -while his baggage was being cut down to the General’s Spartan -standard, for as she was returning from her ride—which she took alone -after all, because she had plans to think out—she saw him going on -board one of the flat-bottomed boats which plied across the river. Two -men—evidently a servant and an orderly—were with him, and a camel -and two horses were already on board. She waved him farewell, and rode -on towards the landing-stage where the steamers moored, where she met -the very man she wanted—the captain of the <i>Asteroid</i>. He had seen -his vessel warped out again from the bank and all made snug on board, -and was on his way to sup with his crony, the captain of the <i>Nebula</i>, -on shore. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you’ll be waiting here for orders—for days maybe?” she asked, -when she had greeted him. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s so, ma’am—with wood on board, and everything ready to get up -steam at an hour’s notice. Colonel Bayard said he might be back any -day, with orders to go to Qadirabad at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“And did he tell you that if Major Ambrose or my brother was with him, -you were to let me know, because I’ll be coming too?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, no, ma’am. To Qadirabad—just now?” He looked at her in -astonishment, but Eveleen was not to be cowed by looks. She had -realised that it was almost certain the General would send a member of -his own staff with Colonel Bayard if he let him go to the Khans at -all, and why not Richard or Brian? She looked sweetly at the sailor. -</p> - -<p> -“And why wouldn’t I? Sure it’s just the proof of peace my presence -will be—making it quite certain we have no warlike intentions. My -going can do nothing but good—so the Colonel said to me himself just -now.” -</p> - -<p> -Captain Franks, like other men, was powerless against Eveleen when she -really brought her batteries to bear, but he struggled gallantly. “You -won’t like it much, I’m afraid, ma’am. There’s sure to be troops on -board, and horses—a large escort.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t mind—if you’ll pitch me a tent on deck again?” -</p> - -<p> -“As you please, ma’am. But you’ll find it rarely chilly these -nights—not like when you came up from Bab-us-Sahel.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen shivered mentally, for she hated cold. Her own first impulse -had been to take a high hand, and remark casually that the cabin—the -only one—would suit her quite well, but it had been succeeded by -another. Richard was always saying, or hinting, that she was -unreasonable. She would show him how wrong he was by refusing to -deprive him and his friend of the comfort—such as it was—of the -cabin, and making martyrs of herself and Ketty on deck. She smiled -heroically at the captain. -</p> - -<p> -“As if I’d mind that! I’ll keep everything packed ready, and be on -board as soon as I get your message.” -</p> - -<p> -Ketty and the old butler could hardly be expected to look at things -from her point of view, and by the tone of the long conversations she -heard going on between them after her orders were given, she gathered -that they objected strenuously to the proposed journey; but they knew -better than to remonstrate with her, and she ignored their discontent -callously. One more letter she received from Richard, written when the -forlorn hope was about to strike into the desert:— -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“Bayard arrived this evening, and accompanies us,” he wrote. “I fear -he is disappointed by his interview with Sir Henry. He tells me he -called upon you. Surely you might have taken the trouble to make him -aware of his true position here?” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“Taken the trouble, indeed! As if I hadn’t tried! And when he wouldn’t -listen to a word!” said Eveleen indignantly, and passed on to another -scrawl from Brian, written like the first on the back of a huge -envelope:— -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“Don’t quarrel with my stationery,” he said. “The General has an -<i>economy fit</i> on, and has locked up all the writing-paper, and I must -send you a few lines. Why would I always be writing to you about -camels, I wonder? but believe me, I’d give a year of my life for you -to have seen the things that have left me near dead with laughing at -this moment. Three hundred and fifty men of the Queen’s —th mounted -on camels, two to a camel, and camels and men all strangers to one -another. But they were not mounted long. I give you my word, the whole -country was speckled over with spots of scarlet and dun, wrestling in -every variety of contention, and whether the language of the soldiers -or of the camels was the worst, I would not like to say. And there was -poor old Colonel Plummer looking at the scene with the liveliest -disgust I ever saw depicted on a human phiz—he was in the Dragoons -once, you may remember. But he plucked up heart and plunged into the -fray, reconciling his men to their mounts, and the camels to one -another, till he got ’em into some sort of order, and he is now -putting his fantastic force through a few simple evolutions. He’s a -great old sportsman—almost as great as my old lad, who is near bent -double with rheumatism when he crawls out of his little tent to mount -his horse, and unstiffens bit by bit as he rides, till you’d swear he -was the model for a statue of the Duke. A fine set we are, I assure -you—with our camel-men and our two howitzers drawn by camels, and our -detachment of horse to frighten off the desert banditti from our -slow-moving column. We have provisions for a fortnight, water for four -days, our tents—common soldiers’ tents—and nothing in the world -else. Won’t we be a sight to make the ladies stare when we come -through this?” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -That was the last news from the column for nearly three weeks, though -messengers still arrived from the main body, which was encamped about -Shahbaz Khan’s fortress of Bidi—thus holding his family hostage, -though this was not stated, in case of any attempt at treachery on his -part. But there was no call to dash into the desert and rescue Sir -Harry and his force, and even the tongue of rumour was silent in face -of his daring move. Then at last there came a summons from Captain -Franks to Eveleen. He had been warned by an express messenger to start -at once for a wooding-station about thirty miles down the river, there -to pick up Colonel Bayard and Major Ambrose and take them on to -Qadirabad. If Mrs Ambrose wished to go too, would she kindly lose no -time? Mrs Ambrose was at the landing-stage little more than an hour -after receiving the message, and found everything in a bustle, horses -being embarked in flat-bottomed boats, which the <i>Asteroid</i> was to -tow, and the troops to whom they belonged crowded on board the vessel -herself. There did not seem to be an inch of room to spare anywhere. -</p> - -<p> -“Are your horses to go, ma’am?” asked Captain Franks distractedly, as -he welcomed her to her tent, and in the same breath bade the mate -beware lest the lubbers on board that flat should knock all the ship’s -paint off. -</p> - -<p> -Once more Eveleen showed herself triumphantly reasonable. “No, I’ll -borrow,” she said, and told the syces to go back. It was a very -disturbed night that lay before her, for even when the <i>Asteroid</i> cast -off at last, the human cargo squabbled grievously over its scanty -accommodation. But in the morning the trials of the past hours were -forgotten when she was invited up to the paddle-box to look out over -the plain covered with stunted trees which extended southwards, and -watch for the arrival of the envoys. The <i>Asteroid</i> reached the -meeting-place first, and it was not till some hours later that a -moving cloud of dust in the distance heralded the appearance of -mounted men at the far end of the clearing which was due to the -insatiable demands of the steamers for wood. There were three men -perched on camels, looking perilously high up and absurdly unsafe, and -a small body of horse. -</p> - -<p> -“Sure it can’t be them!” cried Eveleen, as the camels knelt and the -three riders dismounted and limped towards the primitive wharf. “These -are blacks—not Europeans.” -</p> - -<p> -“Never seen a European fresh from a desert trip before, ma’am?” asked -Captain Franks jovially. “Look at their hair and eyes, and you’ll -see.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is, it is. And my brother too. Sure it’s a nice little family -party you’ll be carrying this voyage, captain!” and she waved her hand -gaily to the advancing three. They ought to have been pleased when -they recognised the white figure welcoming them from the paddle-box, -but it was quite obvious they were not. Richard Ambrose pulled up -suddenly, and said something to Colonel Bayard, who shook his head, -and Brian gave a subdued yell, and tried to hide behind the other two. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want female society!” he wailed. “I want baths, and baths, -and baths, and clean things, and to lie in the shade with a cheroot -and a bottle of beer and all the saltpetre in Khemistan to cool it. -Why would a man have to talk and behave pretty when he don’t want to? -Major Ambrose, sir”—imitating the General at his gruffest—“pray why -don’t you keep that wife of yours in better order?” -</p> - -<p> -“My misfortune!” responded Richard briefly, as he came up the gangway. -“No, my dear, pray don’t touch me”—warding Eveleen off as she ran -down to the deck. “I will come to you again presently. At this moment -I am not fit to speak to anybody. I did not expect to see you—or any -lady—on board here.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am to blame, I fear,” said Colonel Bayard, evidently calling to -mind that last conversation. “But I own”—with a gentle reproof which -would have stricken most women to the heart—“I had not looked to find -my anxieties doubled by the honour of Mrs Ambrose’s company on our -expedition.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, now, won’t you say the pleasure?” Eveleen called after him, as -the three were met and eagerly welcomed by the officers on board, and -disappeared with them. -</p> - -<p> -“Seems almost as if they weren’t expecting to see you, ma’am,” said -Captain Franks, in a puzzled voice. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s just it. They never thought I’d come. But that only shows they -don’t know me—eh?” said Eveleen cheerfully. -</p> - -<p> -But she did not return to the paddle-box, choosing rather to sit at -her tent-door, on the little piece of deck that was sacred to her use, -in case Richard should be in the same mind when he returned. Not that -she would mind Captain Franks—or any one else hearing anything he had -to say; but if the poor man was determined to make an exhibition of -himself, ’twas kinder to let him do it in private. It was also kinder, -no doubt, to take the initiative in the conversation when he appeared, -that he might have another moment in which to recover his temper. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s better—a thousand times better!” she was looking at him -critically. “You were quite coffee-coloured—black coffee—just now. -Now y’are tea-coloured, and I suppose the tea will get weaker and -weaker till you have your natural complexion again? And it’s nice to -see you looking respectable and like yourself. Did you—ah, now, did -you really come back in those rags expecting I’d mend them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not quite such a fool!” snapped Richard. He was really very angry, -that was clear, and any sense of guilt Eveleen might have felt -evaporated promptly. “Is it quite beyond you to understand that I am -exceedingly displeased to find you here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Didn’t I tell you I’d come the next time without asking your leave? -Sure y’ought have known.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps I ought. At any rate, pray believe that if it had been -possible to go back and put you on shore again it should have been -done.” -</p> - -<p> -“But there’s no difficulty in believing that!” innocently. -</p> - -<p> -He restrained himself with an effort. “Can’t you realise that were you -a child, these mad escapades would be viewed more leniently? But for a -female of what should be a discreet age——” -</p> - -<p> -“Discreet?” she snatched the word out of his mouth. “When I behave the -way you’d consider suitable to a female of discreet age I’ll be dead -and gone! Maybe you’ll be satisfied with me then, Major Ambrose!” -</p> - -<p> -“Not I. I shall be dead long before that,” sardonically, and Eveleen -screamed with laughter. Perhaps it was as well that Brian came round -the tent into the reserved space at the moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Sorry to interrupt your private conversation,” he said, “but -positively there’s nowhere else to go.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not private,” cried Eveleen, still overcome with mirth—“except -on Major Ambrose’s part. He’s just made a joke, and he never will do -that when any one else is there, though he knows how I delight in his -jokes. But sit down, Brian boy, and tell me all about everything, -while Ambrose thinks of some more jokes for the next time we are alone -together. Did y’ever get to Sultankot, now?” -</p> - -<p> -“We did,” responded Brian promptly. “But nobody else ever will.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you tell me that, now? And why?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because we blew it up. I wonder wouldn’t you have heard the noise at -Sahar. Sure we were all bothered in our hearing for days after.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what a thing to go all that way to capture the place, and then -blow it up! Was the garrison inside?” -</p> - -<p> -“All the garrison there was—which was none. No, ’twas a mighty fine -place for all the young Khans to escape to, and talk big about what -they’d do when they met the General. But when they got his card, and -his message that he proposed to do himself the honour of paying ’em a -visit—why, they were not at home.” -</p> - -<p> -“But tell us now how it happened. Did you see them running away?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not the least taste of a sight of one of ’em. ’Twas the most -mysterious, queerest thing in the world—Ambrose will tell you so -too”—Richard grunted. “’Twas like coming suddenly on the stage of a -theatre without any actors. There we stood—Sir Harry and the -staff—on the edge of the sandhills. Down below us—like as if ’twas -in a cup, and near enough to touch with your finger—was the fortress, -beautifully built, all the towers and ramparts so clean-cut you’d say -it had only been finished the night before, and the morning sun -shining on it in a sort of romantic way made you think of something in -Scott. There! I meant to ask Keeling what it was—he knows Scott off -by heart—and I forgot. The road down the cliff was full in sight, and -there were the troops moving down into the valley, the camels’ feet -making no sound, the soldiers struck with awe, or something of the -sort. At any rate they were all dumb too, but ’twas ‘Eyes right!’ with -every man as he came out of the shadow of the cliff, as if they were -approaching the saluting-point at a review. I never saw anything like -it. And still there was no sound from the fort, no sign of a human -being even, while the troops formed up and advanced—no answer to our -summons. So at last we found the gates open, the cannon all freshly -loaded and primed, huge quantities of powder, grain enough to feed an -army, wells of good water—and not a soul anywhere! ’Twas like an -enchanted place. You longed for the sound of a bugle to break the -spell, even if it meant a rush of the enemy upon us out of hiding. But -there was no enemy to rush out; they had all made themselves scarce a -few hours before, when they saw we were really coming, and it seemed -we had nothing to do but leave our friend Shahbaz in possession, and -come back. But the General didn’t see it that way. He likes Shahbaz -all right, but he had a shrewd notion that his heart wouldn’t -precisely have been broke if we had all been swallowed up in the -desert, and that he’d be just as well without a strong place like that -all to himself—so difficult to get at, too. So Sultankot was -sentenced to be destroyed, and I will say this for Shahbaz, that he -took it like a sportsman! We had uncommon fun doing the business, for -we plugged shell into the place—just so that we mightn’t have dragged -the guns all that way for nothing—till it reached the powder, and -pop! Shahbaz was as busy as any of us, taking his turn to lay the gun, -and we all shouted and laughed like mad, while the General stood by, -grieving over the place like an old prophet in spectacles, because it -had taken so much trouble to build, and the builder must have been so -pleased with his job. It’s the wonderful old chap he is! Y’ought have -seen him on the way there, Evie—coming straight from writing his -endless letters with his hands all crippled to turning out Her -Majesty’s Europeans to drag the guns up the sandhills that were too -much for the camels. They run ’em up one steep place of a thousand -feet or so in five minutes, all joking and cheering, and old Harry -dashing the briny drops from his manly eyes, and swearing he loved the -British soldier more than any man on earth. Where the ground was not -so steep we used teams of sixty men and fourteen camels to each gun, -and got ’em up like winkin’. The men turned the least bit rusty on the -way back, and I don’t wonder at it, after all they had gone -through,—but he can do anything with ’em. Y’ought have heard ’em -cheer him when he went for a Madras Sapper who was pretending to make -a road for the guns—knocked him down, took his spade from him and set -to work himself, and talked to him—my word! the fellow was green with -fright though he couldn’t understand a syllable!” -</p> - -<p> -“But why would the men turn rusty?” enquired Eveleen anxiously, for -Her Majesty’s —th was an Irish regiment. -</p> - -<p> -“And why wouldn’t they, with a fortnight of such marches and such -work, and sand to eat and drink and breathe—and very little else? -Why, the dry air cracks your boots so that you carry about with you a -private desert on each foot, and the sand gets between you and your -clothes till you feel your shirt is made of sandpaper! And talking of -your clothes, you may be thankful you and they are well scoured with -sand, for there’s no such thing as a clean shirt. You turn the one you -have on your back inside-out when it gets too shockingly dirty, and -when t’other side has got considerably worse you turn it back again, -and so on till you’re like a set of colliers.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now do you wonder we are the colour of coffee?” demanded Richard -suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were as black as a coal! And no wonder -y’are thin, poor creatures, if sand is all you’ve had to eat!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, not all,” admitted Brian. “But we calculate that each man’s -teeth have been ground down a quarter of an inch by the sand he’s -chewed with his food—more or less according to his appetite. And -never, never will we get the last of the sand out of our hair till -we’re all bald! D’ye wonder then the General had no difficulty in -getting complaints when he went round hunting for ’em as usual? But he -turned the men round his little finger easily, and they went back to -duty as meek as lambs when he had fired ’em off one of his heroic -orations, full of Assaye and Corunna.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, but now, what will have been the good of it all?” cried -Eveleen. “You have destroyed a place that was not doing anybody any -harm, and the people that were doing the harm have all escaped.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t say that to Bayard, I beg of you!” said Richard quickly. “To -his mind the one good point of a bad business is that no lives have -been sacrificed.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did I hear my name mentioned?” said Colonel Bayard’s voice, and he -came round the corner of the tent, throwing away the end of his -cheroot as he did so. “May I intrude, Mrs Ambrose? Richard, you and I -must have an explanation; there has been no opportunity hitherto. You -shall do us the honour to judge between us, ma’am.” -</p> - -<p> -Brian rose hastily. “I think, Colonel, you will speak more freely -without me,” he said with some formality. “Any criticism of Sir Henry -Lennox offered in my hearing ’twould be at once my duty and my -pleasure to resent. So I’ll leave you,” and he departed. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch13"> -CHAPTER XIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A LAST EFFORT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Colonel Bayard</span> looked after Brian with a sigh. “Your brother is -highly conscientious, ma’am, but I hope I know better than to use -improper language about his chief in his presence. Nor have I anything -worse to say of the General than that I believe from my soul he had no -evil intention in putting me in my present disagreeable position.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, believe me, his one thought was to atone to you for any slight -Lord Maryport might have seemed to offer,” said Eveleen earnestly. He -sighed again, impatiently. -</p> - -<p> -“Then why this strange behaviour on his part? I was upheld by the -consciousness of rectitude, reconciled to the Governor-General’s -unjust treatment by the prospect it gave me of a speedy reunion with -my wife—actually on the point of departure for home. Then I am -summoned back in the most peremptory manner, compelled to sacrifice my -passage and relinquish my hopes. And for what? I believed, all my -friends believed, the Bombay papers proclaimed their hearty -concurrence—that Sir Henry had recognised his own incapacity for the -task allotted to him, and desired the Governor-General to command my -return. There was nothing peculiar in this save the singularity of -such a frank acknowledgment on his part—which I conceived accorded -strictly with the candour of his nature as I had experienced it,—and -it explained the haughty tone of Lord Maryport’s letter. The assiduous -attentions of the Khans on my way up the river showed that they took -the same view, and I made haste to join Sir Henry and relieve him, as -I imagined, from the burden of a duty unsuited to his talents. What -was the reality? I make no complaint of finding myself second where I -was formerly first, though I own it grated upon me; but in our first -interview it was made clear to me that Sir Henry desired my services -purely in a minor capacity. I was to be nothing but a <i>putli</i> [puppet] -in his hands. Tell me, I beg of you, whether this was his attitude -from the first, or whether he changed towards me when he perceived the -delight with which my return was welcomed?” -</p> - -<p> -He had so obviously decided in his own mind in favour of the second -alternative, that Eveleen and her husband both found it difficult to -answer him. Richard spoke hesitatingly at last. “I tried to hint at -what I believed to be the General’s true state of mind in one of my -letters, you may remember.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did you? It’s possible. But if I noticed it, I set it down to your -habitual caution. But Mrs Ambrose—why did she not warn me three weeks -ago? I made no secret then of the feelings that inspired me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, forgive me!” cried Eveleen, conscience-stricken. “I tried—indeed -I tried—but you would not understand. And how would I tell you such -a thing as that straight out?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I suppose it would be impossible to an Irish person,” he spoke as -though to himself. “But what I can’t make out is”—with renewed -vehemence—“how Sir Henry can have asked for me, knowing my views and -my friendship with the Khans, and knowing also that all his intentions -were diametrically opposed to the policy I have consistently pursued?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, there you do him an injustice,” said Richard quickly. “He had no -such intentions—he was as favourably disposed towards their -Highnesses as yourself. You and he were agreed upon the necessity of -forcing them to observe their obligations—but doing so in the most -considerate manner. I give you my word, I believe there has been too -much consideration. Had you been with us instead of at Bombay, and -witnessed the ingenious provocations, the childish artifices to which -the Khans have resorted, as though determined to tire out our -patience, you must have decided, with the General, that they had -exceeded all limits of toleration.” -</p> - -<p> -“‘<i>Et tu, Brute!</i>’” said Colonel Bayard mournfully. “‘Mine own -familiar friend——’” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray don’t think I am alone in this. You have met a good many of the -Khemistan Europeans in these three weeks. Is there one of them that -takes your view of the case in opposition to the General’s?” -</p> - -<p> -“The General is the disposer of benefits nowadays,” irritably. “Nay, -forgive me—I am unjust. But these youths are all agog for -war—naturally enough; Sir Henry has trained ’em for it. Of course -they rejoice in the prospect of hostilities.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not I. I have seen war in Ethiopia, and know what it means. Am I -likely to wish to bring it upon Khemistan if it can be avoided? But I -tell you plainly, I believe a temporising policy here, pursued further -at the present juncture, would lead to a retreat and a disaster which, -following upon our Ethiopian misfortunes, would lose us India. The -Khans—and especially Gul Ali—have played with us too long already.” -</p> - -<p> -“I could forgive Sir Henry everything,” cried Colonel Bayard -vigorously, roused by the name, “but his treatment of Gul Ali. To -affect to hold the poor old man to a renunciation extorted from him by -force by that villain Shahbaz Khan is an outrage of which I had -fancied him incapable.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure he did resign the Turban to Shahbaz!” said Eveleen in -perplexity. -</p> - -<p> -“True—most solemnly,” agreed her husband. “But when he quitted -Shahbaz’s hospitable roof, he saw fit to change his mind, and declare -the renunciation a farce.” -</p> - -<p> -“And no wonder!” cried Colonel Bayard warmly. “When it was only -brought about by the pressure imposed on him by that most abandoned -scoundrel——” -</p> - -<p> -“We have often agreed that Shahbaz was the ablest of the Khans,” said -Richard imperturbably. “You said to me once you saw no hope for the -dynasty but in him.” -</p> - -<p> -“True, but he had not then shown himself in his real—his most -iniquitous colours. To force his innocent and venerable brother to -cede him the Turban by threats——” -</p> - -<p> -“His innocent and venerable brother having failed to rob him of his -heirship by intrigues——” crisply. -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose, you are hopeless!” cried Colonel Bayard warmly. “The General -has bewitched you. Mrs Ambrose, in your gentle breast I know I shall -touch a chord of sympathy with the aged Prince’s misfortunes. Listen, -I beg of you. I was riding with the advanced guard from Bidi—where I -caught up the force—when we met a solitary <i>cossid</i> mounted on a -camel. He recognised me, and dismounting, threw himself at my feet, -and bewailed the miserable lot of his master. With the General’s -permission I volunteered to seek out my old friend, and convey to him -the assurances of safety and kind treatment from Sir Henry, which it -occurred to me Shahbaz Khan must have kept back. You had said to me -that you suspected something of the sort, ma’am; do you remember? -Well, I found Gul Ali encamped in the jungle—a few wretched <i>rowties</i> -[small common tents] sheltering the few retainers who remained -faithful to him. Our appearance—your brother accompanied me, by the -way—produced at first the utmost consternation, the fugitives fearing -an attack. But my name restored confidence, and the Prince met and -embraced me, and conducted me into his miserable dwelling. Old and -sick, exposed to the heavy rains—this was the plight of the man I had -last seen enthroned in his palace. Briefly he unfolded to me his -brother’s perfidy. As I expected, Shahbaz had induced him to abdicate -by the strongest assurances of Sir Henry’s hostile disposition towards -him. I pledged him my honour that he was mistaken, and he would fain -have accompanied me there and then to make his submission. But I knew -he would find Shahbaz with the General, and fearing his timidity might -betray him once more, I persuaded him to send his son—not Karimdâd, -of course, but one of the younger ones—and a nephew instead.” -</p> - -<p> -“That was the mistake!” said Richard sharply. “Had he but met the -General face to face——” -</p> - -<p> -“Easy enough to see where another man has gone wrong.” Colonel Bayard -spoke with some displeasure. “Well, ma’am, sherbet was served, and we -parted with the usual compliments. My one aim was to lead the young -Khans to Sir Henry before they could be intimidated by Shahbaz. Alas! -it did not occur to me that he might corrupt them instead, though when -we met him he embraced them cordially, and begged a visit after their -audience. I took them to Sir Henry’s tent, where we all sat on the -carpet together, since there were no chairs. The General, who had met -the youths very civilly, addressed them kindly, but with -severity—through his Munshi, not through me—nor did he make the -slightest show of consulting me. Seeing me thus set aside, and reading -in his decided tone that he regarded them as rebels, is it any wonder -the young Khans were seized with alarm? They left his presence—I -suggested to him to show his goodwill by shaking hands with ’em, which -he did very readily—to seek Shahbaz, and I grieve to say they were -persuaded by that villainous plotter to betray their aged parent into -his hands. They saw Shahbaz enjoying Sir Henry’s favour and possessing -all the tokens of power, and in return for his bribes they fell in -with his designs. I despatched a spy to Gul Ali’s camp to mark their -return there, for I feared all was not well, and it was as I feared. -They insisted upon the General’s angry tone and the curtness of the -terms he had used, and declared it as his command that Gul Ali should -surrender himself again to Shahbaz at Bidi. Asked what part I, their -friend, had taken in the interview, they replied that even were I -sincere in my professions—of which they hinted a doubt—it was clear -I was devoid of any power to help. Do you wonder that the unfortunate -old man feared to offer the personal submission for which Sir Henry -had stipulated? Once again he made his escape—and so unremitting is -Shahbaz in his villainy that he even succeeded in bribing his -brother’s Munshi to substitute a defiant message under his seal for -the letter he had despatched in excuse for his non-appearance. Sir -Henry was highly irritated, and lent an ear all the more readily to -the poisonous suggestions of Shahbaz. With a view of clinching -matters, he replied to the letter with a direct refusal to communicate -further with Gul Ali unless he gave effect to his forced renunciation -by recognising his brother as Chief Khan.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure ’twas the wisest thing he could do!” Eveleen had been -bubbling over for some moments with the desire to speak. “Wouldn’t you -say the unfortunate old creature was silly? He can do no good for -himself or anybody else.” -</p> - -<p> -Colonel Bayard was painfully taken aback. “I didn’t expect this from -you, Mrs Ambrose. Is the unhappy Gul Ali to be branded as a fool -because unfortunate? His misfortunes all spring from the misdeeds of -others.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but do they? Is he able to retain the fidelity of a single -supporter, will you tell me? Has he taken one bit of the advice you -have given him, or kept any single promise he has made? I grant you -he’s unfortunate, but I’d say with all my heart he was incapable as -well!” -</p> - -<p> -“A Daniel come to judgment!” said Richard drily. -</p> - -<p> -“And if he ain’t incapable,” pursued Eveleen, rushing on before -Colonel Bayard could speak, “he’s treacherous, believe me. As Ambrose -says, you don’t know the things he has been doing—stopping the -<i>dâks</i> and attacking our boats on the river, besides the army he’s -been getting together. And when poor Sir Harry sends word that the -army is to be disbanded, all the old horror will do is to say there’s -no army to disband.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely. How can he disband an army if he hasn’t got one? I grant -you that in their childish way the Khans have sought to lead Sir Henry -to think they were raising troops, but this was purely make-believe, -designed to deter him from attempting decisive measures against them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then they were finely mistaken in Sir Harry! But believe me, they -have been assembling their Arabit hordes for months. We have heard too -much of them to doubt that. Ah, don’t let your kind heart set you -against the General and all of us who see that unfortunate old -deceiver as he really is, and not as you do—an angel with wings a -weeshy bit muddy!” -</p> - -<p> -“I have brought this upon myself, I suppose——” with a pique he could -not disguise. “But don’t be afraid, ma’am. I value my friends too -highly to part company with ’em over a difference of opinion, and I -trust they’ll extend the like compliment to me. This last effort to -preserve the authority of the Khans and prevent bloodshed I’ll carry -through with my whole heart. If it fail, my work here is done. I am -merely, as Sir Henry has more than once reminded me, a commissioner -under a peace treaty, and if there’s no treaty, I am at liberty to go -home.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now why would such a nice man be so unreasonable as all that?” asked -Eveleen mournfully as he left them. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, my dear, ain’t all nice people the same, in your estimation?” -Richard’s tone tried to be jaunty—not very successfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Like yourself? Well, I wouldn’t say quite all—but a good many, -certainly. But sure Bayard will never be able to call Sir Harry -unreasonable after this. Did y’ever see anything like the way he has -given in to him time and again?” -</p> - -<p> -“I own I never thought he had it in him to be so patient. If Bayard -succeeds in persuading the Khans to consult their own interests and -submit, they will have the General to thank, not themselves.” -</p> - -<p> -“And if they won’t consult their own interests, and will not submit, -there’s not a soul on earth can accuse Sir Harry of dealing with them -hastily.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t say that. People can say strange things. But if the Khans -have an anna’s worth of sense in their foolish heads, they will -submit—having stood out to the very last moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I’m sorry for it!” said Eveleen. “Why, now”—as he looked at -her in amazement,—“have you forgotten I was against the silly -creatures from the first? Ever since Bayard said he had no power to -make them treat the women properly, don’t you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“I had forgotten, certainly. Now I have some faint recollection——” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are very flattering!” sharply. -</p> - -<p> -“If you expect me to remember all the contradictory speeches you make -on all sorts of topics, I fear, my dear——” -</p> - -<p> -“When you talk like that, you make me feel I’d do <i>anything</i>—anything -in the wide world—to make an impression, to let you feel you had to -reckon with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, pray don’t! I assure you it ain’t necessary any longer.” -Whether his alarm was real or pretended she could not distinguish. -“Henceforth your wildest utterances shall be most carefully weighed. -You forget you have already carried out your threat—by presenting -yourself here. If we get through, I promise you won’t find me -disregarding your threats again.” -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t put it <i>very</i> nicely,” she complained. “But tell me -now—d’ye really think we’ll have to fight?” -</p> - -<p> -But apparently Richard repented his freedom of speech. “Not a bit of -it!” crushingly. “What I’m afraid of is that you will be actually and -literally bored to death.” -</p> - -<p> -And not a word more would he say, though Eveleen tried coaxing and -reproaches in turn. Indignant though she was at the time, however, -there were moments, after they had reached Qadirabad, when she began -to feel his prophecy might come true. Whatever excitement there might -be for the men, who rode daily to the Fort to discuss Lord Maryport’s -treaty with the Khans in durbar, life at the Residency was the very -acme of dulness for the woman left at home. If Eveleen had expected to -be able to resume her former pursuits, she was mistaken. She blamed -herself bitterly for not having brought a horse—difficult though it -might have been for poor Captain Franks to find room for it—for the -lack of one played into the hands of her natural enemies. Any man who -prevented, or sought to prevent, Eveleen from riding when she wished -to ride was a natural enemy, and all the members of the -Mission—soldiers and Politicals alike—were immovably united in the -determination that she should not go outside the walls. The only -exception to this rule was the permission to go out by the water-gate, -cross an uninviting tract of sand which was really part of the bed of -the river, but now dry, and thus gain access to the <i>Asteroid</i>, which -lay in a meagre trickle called a channel. But this excursion was as -unsatisfying as the ride round the garden, which was the only one -allowed her—if not quite so tantalising,—and she did not repeat it. -If she was not to sink to the lowest depths and gossip with Ketty, she -must find her interests in that dreary treaty, which seemed to be -debated for hours day after day, but never signed. Poor Colonel Bayard -might have been the Khans’ bitterest enemy, instead of their most -tried and persevering friend, by the way they treated him. His -championship of their cause—expressed indiscreetly, perhaps, to Gul -Ali and his retainers—was made an excuse, and a perpetually recurring -one, for tormenting him. Was he really in sympathy with the deposed -Chief, whose honours had been so shamefully filched from him? Oh, -well, if he said so, it must be presumed to be true, but Gul Ali had -heard rumours—— And in any case, if he was on the side of the -oppressed, why was he representing their chief adversary, the Bahadar -Jang? Would he show his friendship by getting Gul Ali replaced in his -position of supremacy, and punishing the presumptuous Shahbaz? Over -and over again, by varying paths, the discussion was led dexterously -to this point, at which the harassed emissary could only reply that he -had no power whatever to interfere with the Governor-General’s -decisions; the utmost he could do would be to urge the expediency of -modifying them. This was not at all what was wanted, and the bald -question invariably followed: If you are a friend, and yet can do -nothing to help us, why are you here? The reply that he had hoped to -make submission easier by entreating instead of imposing it was not at -all in accordance with the Khans’ idea of a friend’s duties. -</p> - -<p> -It almost seemed as though Colonel Bayard might have gone on -indefinitely presenting the treaty, and the Khans talking about it, -had not the spur been applied which the envoy had been dreading. He -had written feverish letters almost daily, entreating the General to -return to Sahar with his force—or at least to remain stationary, and -not pursue the route he had taken on leaving Sultankot, which would -bring him to the river about half-way to Qadirabad. It was the death -blow to his hopes when the news came that not only had Sir Harry -emerged safely on the river bank from the desert, but his flying -column had been joined there by the troops he had left at Bidi. The -effect on the Khans was no less marked. Their Vakils sealed that very -day the pledge which bound them to accept the treaty. -</p> - -<p> -“Did y’ever see a man look so miserable when he’d got what he’d been -fighting for for a week?” demanded Eveleen of her husband when Colonel -Bayard had brought the draft home—not at all in triumph—and laid it -up in his desk. “You’d say he was sorry they have signed, instead of -glad.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you. He don’t know whether to blame Sir Henry most for his -show of force, or their Highnesses for permitting themselves to be -affected by it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure they couldn’t have gone on hesitating for ever!” -</p> - -<p> -“He had hopes, I’m certain, of inducing the General to promise that if -they would sign the treaty, Gul Ali should get back his Turban. Of -course Sir Henry has no power to promise anything of the kind—it -rests with the Governor-General, and he will never grant it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if I was poor Bayard, I’d be glad the matter was settled and -out of my hands.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me—not if you were he. You would be more unhappy than ever, -because you had not succeeded in averting the misfortune. There’s a -sort of twist in his mind where his dear Khans are concerned. To him, -they and the General alike are pawns in the hand of Shahbaz, who is -the greatest villain existing, and advises all to their destruction.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure they are all dead against Shahbaz!” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s merely another proof of the man’s cunning. Bayard has -persuaded himself that Shahbaz is so steeped in plots he can’t eat his -pillau without some ulterior object, while his poor simple brother and -nephews, beguiled by his subtlety, are innocent lambs asking to be -shorn. Lambs, indeed! much more like wolves, they look to other -people.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you think there’s danger?” Eveleen’s eyes were sparkling. -</p> - -<p> -“I do think so, and I’ll tell you why. Perhaps it will make you more -contented to stay indoors, as you are told. The city is swarming with -Arabits, whose demeanour is as uncivil as they dare, though for the -moment they are held in check. Through some extraordinary blindness, -Bayard don’t see them—as a danger, at any rate. Not an armed man in -the streets, he writes to the General. They all have their swords and -shields—what does he expect of ’em? muskets and revolving pistols? -Their matchlocks are close at hand, I haven’t a doubt. And all our -spies bring in word of fresh bands—either concealed at a convenient -distance from the city, or pressing towards it from all quarters. -Kamal-ud-din alone, they say, has assembled ten thousand men, and is -approaching by forced marches. And here are we allowing ourselves to -be played with, while precious time—every day of which augments the -Arabit hosts—is lost!” -</p> - -<p> -“Now I wonder why wouldn’t you tell Bayard that?” asked Eveleen -curiously. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you think I haven’t?” he laughed shortly. “I try to bring the -reports to his notice, but he has no eye for ’em—too much engrossed -with the unmerited sufferings of that crew at the Fort. I wonder what -will be their next expedient for gaining time? He will allow himself -to be taken in by it, I’ll wager, through sheer remorse at having -conquered ’em so far!” -</p> - -<p> -But perhaps the Khans thought their hold on Colonel Bayard was wearing -a little thin. At any rate, their next step was taken entirely without -his assistance. When he opened his desk in the morning, that he might -take the draft treaty with him to the Fort, the treaty was -gone—without any sign of violence, or even the forcing of the lock. -In this the thieves had overreached themselves. There were only two -keys to the desk, one of which was in Colonel Bayard’s own possession, -the other in that of his Munshi. The Munshi was a Qadirabad man, and -had returned to his home there when his employer left Khemistan for -Bombay, so that the Khans had had some three months in which to exert -upon him the various methods of persuasion in which they excelled. -Arrested promptly, he was so grievously surprised and terrified that -he made a full confession. For a handsome consideration, he had -unlocked the desk in the night and turned his back for a moment, then -locked the desk again, having seen and heard nothing. That was all he -knew, but the work had all to be done again. -</p> - -<p> -For once, however, Colonel Bayard refused to take the part of his -gentle protégés. To corrupt his servant and break into his house, -that they might destroy the draft they had signed of their own free -will, was too much even for him. The treaty was gone, but in durbar -that day he took a high tone which brought the Khans to heel like -whipped dogs. They apologised piteously for the misdeed of some -unnamed retainer, who had been led away by the hope of helping his -masters to bribe the Munshi and steal and destroy the paper. They had -known nothing of the crime, they declared, and to prove it they would -set their seals the very next day to the treaty itself—not a mere -draft this time, but the whole of Lord Maryport’s requirements. Having -made this tremendous concession, it would not have been the Khans if -they had not promptly endeavoured to nullify it by demanding that Gul -Ali should have the Turban restored to him; otherwise, they said, it -was quite unnecessary to make a new treaty, since they had never -broken the old one. But Colonel Bayard was still sufficiently -disgusted and disillusioned to reply with a curt negative, and -returned with his staff to the Residency through streets ominously -filled with a sullen throng, who surged up to the very horses of the -escort, and muttered curses on the Farangis. -</p> - -<p> -When they went to the Fort the next day, there was not a man of the -Mission who did not feel doubtful whether he would ever return. The -crowds in the streets were larger and more menacing, and it was with -the utmost difficulty that a passage was forced through them. The -demeanour of the guards and attendants showed a scarcely veiled -insolence, and round the walls of the audience-chamber were ranged a -small army of wild-looking Arabits, armed to the teeth. After their -long acquaintance, the Khans ought to have known Colonel Bayard -better, for this suggestion of physical force was the one thing needed -to stiffen his temper. He refused even to enter the durbar-hall till -the additional guards were withdrawn, and declined to be placated by -the suggestion that they were there to do honour to the treaty. The -Khans were evidently flurried by his coldness, and affixed their seals -in some haste, Gul Ali only pausing to remark in heartrending tones -that he had laid his life and honour and everything he had at the feet -of the British, and they had taken it all away. Colonel Bayard’s -generous heart responded instantly to the plaint of ill-usage, and he -spoke impulsively. He could do nothing in the matter of the Turban—he -only wished he could—but he would beg Sir Henry Lennox to visit -Qadirabad and hear what the Khans had to say, in the hope that he -might accord as an act of grace what could not be given as a right. -</p> - -<p> -The effect of his hasty speech was electrical. The Khans broke into -radiant smiles, and Khair Husain modestly expressed their unworthiness -to welcome the shining presence of the Bahadar Jang. His gestures were -so emphatic as almost to seem extravagant, and Brian, by a meaning -look, directed his brother-in-law’s attention to a slight confusion -among the servants at the door. The trays of sherbet were just being -brought in, which were the signal for the conclusion of the interview, -and as far as the two men, watching without appearing to do so, could -see, they were hastily carried out again and then brought in a second -time—or possibly others substituted. What was the reason? Poison was -the first thought in the minds of both, and it seemed as though it was -also in that of Khair Husain, for in a rather marked way he drank from -his cup first, and then passed it to Colonel Bayard. The Englishman -had seen nothing of the by-play, and accepted the honour as a mere -graceful compliment, but it seemed to Richard and Brian that Khair -Husain directed an eye towards them as he drank. When they left the -audience-chamber, they were surprised to find a band of Arabit -horsemen drawn up facing their own troopers. Little Hafiz Ullah Khan, -the youngest of the princely family, who was escorting them to the -gate, explained volubly— -</p> - -<p> -“It is those <i>badmashes</i> outside—we cannot control them. They are -angry because the treaty is signed and my great-uncle’s wrongs have -not been redressed, and they might show rudeness. Therefore we send an -escort of our own to see you safely through the town. Would the -Bahadar Jang be likely to shed the light of his radiant countenance -upon us if he heard that his servants had eaten <i>gali</i> [abuse] in our -streets?” -</p> - -<p> -The reasoning was very clear, but it was abundantly obvious that the -mob were prepared to use much more substantial weapons than abuse. All -down the long Bazar from the gateway of the Fort to the city gate, the -Mission had practically to fight its way. At Colonel Bayard’s earnest -entreaty, his companions succeeded in getting through without drawing -their swords, but in two or three ugly rushes they were forced to -defend themselves by laying about them with the scabbards. The -troopers of the Khemistan Horse were hard to restrain, but they found -some alleviation of their discontent in backing their horses among the -crowd, with a callous disregard of toes and shins. The Khans’ cavalry -did more talking than anything else, but the only time Richard Ambrose -had leisure to listen to them, what they said was significant—“Let -them pass. These men are nothing. Wait till the Bahadar Jang comes!” -Something suspiciously resembling a torrent of curses accompanied the -name, but it might have been directed at the crowd, whose own language -was blood-curdling. It was not until half the distance had been -covered that stones began to fly—the partially demolished house of a -man who had presumed to become unduly rich and had suffered for it -affording a supply of missiles. Then indeed the riders had a hot time, -for to the stones and iron-shod <i>lathis</i> in the street were added -stones and curses from the roofs. Most of them received blows more or -less severe, and Richard had his cap knocked off and got a nasty gash -on the forehead. Happily Brian was in time to prevent his being -knocked off his horse, for any man who went down in that yelling, -swearing, spitting crowd would have small chance to rise again. But -the gate was nearly reached, and the Arabit escort—with the first -sign of common-sense that had distinguished them—made a semicircle -and beat back the mob while their charges were filing through the -narrow portal. Once safely outside, and dignity consulted by riding a -short way as if nothing had happened, they pulled up beside a well to -repair damages. One of the troopers of the escort had an arm broken, -and while Colonel Bayard and the surgeon were looking to him, Richard -submitted unwillingly to the ministrations of his brother-in-law, -which were necessary because the blood running down his face prevented -him from seeing. -</p> - -<p> -“I cot your eye in the durbar just now,” said Brian hastily. “Would -you say you thought what I did?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think the General has saved all our lives without knowing it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you wouldn’t say he’d come here?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should say the Khans will have to live a good bit longer before -they catch <i>that</i> old weasel asleep.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch14"> -CHAPTER XIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN—</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">After</span> that exciting ride home, profound peace reigned about the -Residency for a whole day, as though the Khans wished to give time for -the impression to sink in. Then their Vakils arrived again, in a high -state of alarm, with which they were desperately anxious to infect the -British. The Khans were absolutely powerless to restrain the Arabits, -they said—as Colonel Bayard had had some slight proof already. Their -feelings were outraged by the signing of the treaty, and they would -only accept it on the condition that Gul Ali was at once acknowledged -again as holder of the Turban, and that Sir Henry’s troops, which had -advanced steadily down the river bank till they were now within a few -marches of the capital, should be instantly withdrawn. Otherwise, the -ambassador would do well to surrender the treaty and depart, for the -Khans could not protect him. To the mingled wrath and despair of his -officers, the threatened loss of the treaty—which had been so hard to -win—induced Colonel Bayard to write urging Sir Harry not merely to -come to Qadirabad and re-establish Gul Ali on the <i>masnad</i>, but to -withdraw his army into the desert—as far as the remote fortress of -Khangarh, near the British border,—that his peaceful intentions might -be made thoroughly clear. He told the Vakils what he had written, -pointing out that it would have no effect unless the Khans could keep -the Arabits under control, and they accepted the warning and withdrew -with all gravity, though their errand must have seemed to them -successful to the point of absurdity. -</p> - -<p> -The next day Eveleen was in the garden—in the uncomfortable state -popularly described as finding herself at a loose end. She had tried -to nurse Richard, but Richard as an invalid was neither grateful nor -gracious. She wanted to fuss over him, and he ruthlessly declined to -be fussed over. He did not wish to be read to—perhaps this was not -surprising, since the only available reading consisted of back numbers -of various Bombay papers, singing the praises of Colonel Bayard and -patronising the General’s wisdom in perceiving in him the only man to -deal with the situation,—he did not wish to be talked to or otherwise -amused; all he asked was to be let alone and allowed to smoke in -peace. Thereupon Eveleen naturally went off in a huff—thereby, as she -realised presently with disgust, assuring him precisely the selfish -tranquillity he craved—and established herself in a shady spot, where -a masonry platform had been built under the shelter of two or three -large trees, to recover her equanimity. It was unfortunate for this -purpose that her position brought her in view of her old antagonist -the gardener, who had cheerfully ascribed the lack of garden produce -to the Beebee’s interference at the beginning of the cold weather. -Nevertheless, after the manner of his kind, he was able to supply -vegetables—at a price,—and Eveleen raged in vain when he exhibited -blandly his empty garden-beds. She was quite sure that he had sold -everything they contained, and was now suborning some other gardener -to do the same, though it was not quite clear who in Qadirabad would -be likely to have a taste for European vegetables. Perhaps it was Tom -Carthew, she thought, and wondered idly how he was getting on in his -uncomfortable, half-and-half, secretive life. -</p> - -<p> -As so often happens, the thought was followed at no great distance by -the appearance of its object, though Eveleen did not perceive this at -first. What she saw from her point of vantage was an interested group -of women and children near the stables, gathered round a man who -seemed to be selling something. It was most probably sweets, she -thought, and remembering that she had not yet given the people in the -compound the treat which was their due after her long absence, she -told Ketty to fetch the man. It was altogether beneath Ketty’s dignity -to enter the domains of the syce-folk, but there was a servant close -at hand, specially detailed by Colonel Bayard to watch over the safety -of her Madam-sahib, and she despatched him on the errand. It was -rather a disappointment to find that the pedlar was not selling -sweets, but glass bangles—designed for what seemed impossibly slender -wrists—strung on rods according to size. Still, these would please -the women, at any rate, and she sent Ketty to the house for her purse -while she made her selection. To her astonishment, the moment the ayah -was out of hearing, the pedlar spoke in English—low and hastily. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t look at me, Miss Evie; I’m risking my life to be here, but it’s -to save yours. What was the Major thinkin’ of to bring you with him at -a time like this?” -</p> - -<p> -“He didn’t bring me; I came,” returned Eveleen with dignity. “Now why -would you be risking your life, Tom Carthew?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because they had it all ready to murder the Colonel and the gentlemen -two days ago, and though they were put off it then they mean to do it -now. You tell the Colonel, ma’am, not to trust Khair Husain Khan. I’ll -tell you how he’ll know what the rascal’s up to. He’ll come and offer -to post a guard of his servants to protect this place—and if you -accept, the guard will murder you all in your beds.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now I wonder will the Colonel believe it?” mused Eveleen, her heart -beating a little faster than usual. -</p> - -<p> -“He’d better. Why, ma’am, it was touch and go t’other day. The Khans -had made up their minds to cut up the Colonel into little pieces, -because he pretended to be their friend and was deceivin’ ’em. Then -when he made ’em send away the guards, they had the sherbet ready to -poison him—and they’d have done it too, but for what he let drop -about bringing the General here. They are fair set on gettin’ hold of -the General, and it won’t be cuttin’ into little bits for him. They’ve -sworn to put a cord through his nose and drag him round the city at -the tail of young Hafiz Ullah’s horse, for the people to see, and -after that—well, they call him Satan’s brother after his getting to -Sultankot as he did, never runnin’ across any of the bands that was -looking for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder now, did they look very hard?” There must be no showing the -white feather, though Eveleen’s hands felt clammy, and her thoughtful -voice was a little shaky. -</p> - -<p> -“They say they did, anyhow. Well, you can guess what they think is the -proper way to treat the devil. But will the General be coming, ma’am?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d say he would not.” Relentless cross-examining of Richard and -Brian had convinced Eveleen of this. “But sure the Khans will do -nothing till he has written to say so?” -</p> - -<p> -“You might have said that yesterday, but something has happened this -morning to change their minds. There was a lot of Bharri chiefs on -their way here, and they came slap up against the General’s army. -Whether it was just brag, or they wanted to pick a quarrel, I don’t -know, but they made to ride straight through the camp of the Khemistan -Horse, and got taken prisoners. When the news came in, all the Khans -cried out at once that it was war now, and the General wouldn’t come. -That’s all I know.” His eyes were on the approaching form of Ketty, -and he began to rearrange his wares. -</p> - -<p> -“No, but tell me quickly, what do they mean to do?” urged Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve told you what they mean to do to the General. For his army, they -swear they have men enough to drive it into the river, without drawin’ -a sword—just pushing. Then cut the throats of every English man, -woman, and child left in Khemistan. That’s what they mean to do.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you can’t stay with them! Come here to us.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, ma’am, I’ve made my bed and I must lie on it. Make the Beebee -understand that I am a poor man, and cannot possibly sell at the price -she offers,” he went on whiningly as Ketty came up. “Why must I be -ruined because I cannot afford a shop in the Bazar?” -</p> - -<p> -The invitation to bargain roused Ketty’s keenest instincts. -Metaphorically she shouldered her mistress out of the fray, and fell -upon the unhappy bangle-seller tooth and nail. She brought him down -from annas to pice, and then pice by pice until he declared -truly—though she naturally thought it was falsely—that his wares had -cost him more to buy. Then she suddenly reflected that the -Madam-sahib’s wealth and importance would suffer in the estimation of -the servant people if she was known to drive too keen a bargain, and -with a royal air accepted on her behalf his last offer, informing him -unkindly that it was in consideration of his obvious wretchedness. -Eveleen, standing by and fuming, had to curb her impatience still -further and bid the pedlar follow her to a spot commanding a nearer -view of the stables, whence she watched him fitting the bangles to the -arms of the recipients, and received their grateful salams, and then -only was she free to return to the house, and burst in upon Richard -with her news. It was just as well he was not the serious invalid she -had wished to make him, for she could not possibly have kept her story -in any longer, and he had to remind her—as soon as he was able to -understand what she was driving at—that the source of the warning -must remain a secret. This had not occurred to her, and she was so -much shocked at her own carelessness that she consented—though sorely -against the grain—to postpone warning Colonel Bayard until he came of -his own accord to smoke a cigar with Richard. To send for him would -have aroused suspicion as readily as to go to speak to him in his -office and ask that the native clerks might be sent out of hearing, -and the delay had also the advantage of allowing Tom Carthew time to -get back to the city before suspicion could be aroused. -</p> - -<p> -But it was very hard to wait, and when Colonel Bayard came at last, -his reception of the great news was disappointing in the extreme. At -first it seemed as if he would not believe it at all. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s no likelihood whatever of Khair Husain’s offering to send -troops to protect the Agency,” he said. “It would be a gross insult, -and he wouldn’t dream of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why should the Daroga suggest such a thing unless it had been -discussed?” asked Richard, for his wife was too much taken aback to -remonstrate. -</p> - -<p> -“The man wants to safeguard his own neck, of course. He thinks, very -naturally, that Sir Henry is determined to destroy the Khans, and is -afraid he will suffer for being mixed up with them. So he tries to -establish a claim on our gratitude in advance by making up this tale.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure he was risking his life by coming to warn us!” cried -Eveleen, with flashing eyes. “Would you take no notice of what he -said?” -</p> - -<p> -“Happily,” said Richard, in his coolest tones, “we shall be able to -test his truthfulness very shortly. If Khair Husain does offer to send -troops, the warning is confirmed.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if Bayard has made up his mind not to take it?” Eveleen spoke -before Colonel Bayard could. He raised his hand in protest. -</p> - -<p> -“Not made up my mind, ma’am—you’re mistaken there. I should hardly -feel justified in ignoring such a warning—yet to refuse the offer -would be a precious strong step to take. Khair Husain would naturally -feel himself ill-used.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if you accepted it, we would <i>be</i> ill-used,” said Eveleen -triumphantly. “Would you really like that better? And didn’t you -yourself just this minute say the offer would be an insult?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Richard, there was a great casuist lost in Mrs Ambrose.” -Colonel Bayard managed to keep his indulgent air, though Eveleen felt, -and looked, as though she would like to box his ears. “And what, -ma’am”—kindly—“would be your idea of the proper procedure when the -offer had been refused?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course, I’d like greatly to be in a real fight,” said Eveleen -regretfully. “But”—summoning all the forces of duty and self-denial -to her aid—“I know you gentlemen will all cry out with one voice -that’s my bloodthirsty nonsense.” Deeply shocked, Colonel Bayard -negatived the suggestion with a deprecating hand. “Ah, don’t I know -it? So I’ll be moderate and sensible, and only say I suppose we ought -all get up the river again in the <i>Asteroid</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -“And betray my trust here?” It was his turn to triumph. “No, ma’am, I -came to Qadirabad by the General’s orders”—he disregarded a sound as -of dissent from Richard,—“and here I stay until either I am turned -out or Sir Henry sends me orders to leave. But my first duty—Ambrose, -I know you will be with me in this—is to assure the safety of the -lady who has laboured so pluckily to save our lives, as she believes. -I will send word to Franks that Mrs Ambrose will sleep on board -to-night.” -</p> - -<p> -“You think there’ll be a fight, and you won’t let me be in it?” Her -undisguised anguish and dismay brought back Colonel Bayard’s sunny -smile. -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely!” he said, the last vestige of his ill-humour vanishing. -“Why, what curs you must think us, ma’am, to be willing to expose you -to a peril against which you have yourself warned us!” -</p> - -<p> -Richard laughed—he could not help it—and Eveleen glared from one to -the other. “I’ll never speak a word to either of y’again—unless I -have to!” she declared wrathfully, and swept majestically from the -room. For the rest of the day she refused to be comforted or placated, -and made Richard very angry—because he felt she was making him -ridiculous—by declining to address him directly, and sending him -messages through Ketty, though they were on the same verandah. -Therefore he triumphed in his turn when, after being summoned to be -present when Colonel Bayard received a Vakil from Khair Husain Khan, -he was able to meet her again with a fine air of mystery. -</p> - -<p> -“Something very queer about this——” shaking his head solemnly as he -sat down. “Giving warning is one thing, but playing the enemy’s -game——! Now why should she——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Who are you talking about?” demanded Eveleen quickly. He ignored the -question. -</p> - -<p> -“To offer precisely similar advice! Can she be in league with their -Highnesses? Yet how communicate with ’em? Something strange here——” -</p> - -<p> -“Major Ambrose, are you talking about me?” Eveleen had flown to the -side of his chair, and was shaking him. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear, I thought I was an invalid?” meekly. “May I not speak of -you, if it’s forbidden to speak to you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, don’t be such a tease! What’s it all about?” -</p> - -<p> -“Does it flatter you to know that Khair Husain thinks precisely as you -do? The Vakil advised Bayard most earnestly to be off by water at once -if he would not accept the guard of troops, for the Khans can’t -restrain the Arabits any longer.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s flattered I am, indeed! But I won’t be if Bayard took his advice -when he wouldn’t take mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be afraid. He swore he wouldn’t budge an inch nor post an extra -sentry—told ’em to do their worst, in fact. So you are likely to -enjoy your wish and see a fight.” -</p> - -<p> -“I never said I’d like to see one,” indignantly. “I said I wanted to -be in it!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, seeing it is the next best thing, surely?” But Eveleen did not -think so. -</p> - -<p> -“If I’d known I would be punished for saving all our lives, I wouldn’t -have done it,” she said tragically to Brian as they walked down to the -river after dinner. It was thought better for her to make her -unwilling exit in the dark, lest hostile watchers, seeing it, should -interpret it as a sign of fear. -</p> - -<p> -“Be aisy, then,” returned Brian. “You couldn’t have kept it in.” -</p> - -<p> -“Couldn’t—eh? What are y’after now?” -</p> - -<p> -“You had to give the warning, I tell you. You couldn’t have held your -tongue, if it was to save all our lives, and ’twas just the opposite -in this case.” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye tell me I couldn’t hold my tongue if ’twas necessary? A fine -brother y’are—to insult your own sister!” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll consult Ambrose, if you like. Will you say he wouldn’t agree -with me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course he would. Gentlemen always agree with one another.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you wouldn’t have him agree with you, when all his experience -went the other way, would you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Wr-r-r-retch!” said Eveleen, with such a terrific rolling of her -<i>r</i>’s that Richard turned round and asked if she couldn’t get a few -more in. She disdained to reply, and happily at this moment they -reached the sandbank to which the <i>Asteroid</i> was moored, and were met -at the foot of the gangway by Captain Franks in a high state of -pleasurable excitement. -</p> - -<p> -“Welcome on board, ma’am! I have good news for you, sir——” to -Colonel Bayard. “There! d’ye hear that?” -</p> - -<p> -“A steamer’s whistle?” in astonishment. -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely, sir—the whistle of the <i>Nebula</i>, no less, with the Light -Company of Her Majesty’s —th on board, sent off post-haste by Sir -Henry, as soon as he saw things were getting risky here.” -</p> - -<p> -“A welcome reinforcement, indeed!” said Colonel Bayard heartily. “We -must see that the news gets to the Khans at once. They will find it -easy enough to restrain the Arabits now. But how did you hear of this, -captain?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, sir, finding the river so low, Captain Warner was afraid of -running aground in the dark, so he sent his mate and two men in the -dinghy to find us and see where the channels were, and I sent my mate -back to pilot ’em in.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well done. We must get ’em ashore at once—make a regular <i>tamasha</i> -of it, so that the spies in the bazar may take exaggerated reports to -the Fort. This is an enormous relief to my mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“And incidentally to mine,” remarked Richard to Brian, as Colonel -Bayard handed Eveleen up the gangway to the deck, whither Captain -Franks preceded them to receive her properly. “Has it struck you that -we three become civilians from the moment Montgomery and his fellows -arrive?” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye tell me that? Ah, I see it! The Colonel is a mere Political, you -and I nothing but Staff—ornamental but powerless. Senior officer in -command of European troops takes charge. What a do!” -</p> - -<p> -“Better restrain your joy a bit. We don’t want the notion to occur to -Bayard, or he’ll order the <i>Nebula</i> to stand off till daylight, by -which time——” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll be smashed entirely,” supplied Brian. “I believe you, my boy! -Whereas if the Khans hear large reinforcements have arrived in the -night, they’ll wait till morning to attack, so as to get a good look -at ’em first.” -</p> - -<p> -With much shrieking of whistles and a lavish display of lights, the -<i>Nebula</i> was welcomed to her anchorage, and that the effect was not -wasted was clear from the array of villagers, roused from their beds -by the noise, who lined the bank above the Agency and watched the -landing with awed and not altogether pleasurable interest. Brian -pointed them out to Richard with a grin. -</p> - -<p> -“Choused—eh?” responded Richard. “Every man of ’em went to bed -expecting to have the looting of the place in the morning, no doubt. -To see seventy-five Europeans, when you expected only to have thirty -dismounted sowars to deal with, must give you a bit of a shock.” -</p> - -<p> -Brian nudged his elbow. “D’ye hear what Montgomery’s saying? We ain’t -out of the wood yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are well supplied with ammunition, I trust, Colonel?” the —th -Captain was asking. “We came off in such a hurry that half-way here I -found to my annoyance we have nothing but the ten rounds apiece in the -men’s pouches.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, we could not stand a prolonged siege, certainly,” laughed -Colonel Bayard, “but that will matter less, as I am convinced we shall -not now have to fight at all.” -</p> - -<p> -But Colonel Bayard was wrong. Whether the Arabits were really beyond -their masters’ control, or whether the spies in the village just -outside the Agency wall had gauged the extent of the reinforcement and -adjudged it negligible, morning light showed that the place was -surrounded, though the various bodies of horse and foot whose presence -could be distinguished betrayed no indecent alacrity to come out into -the open or approach too near. There was nothing in the nature of a -surprise, for Captain Montgomery lacked Colonel Bayard’s pathetic -faith in the Khans, and even a night attack would have found the -garrison prepared. Unfortunately there was no time now to take the -precautionary measures which should have been put in hand before. Save -on the side of the river, assailants might find cover in every -direction almost up to the walls, and at two points the compound was -actually commanded from without—by the native village which had grown -up as a sort of adjunct to the stables, and on the opposite side by a -house forming a kind of outpost, where the doctor had formerly lived, -and which was too much detached to be occupied effectively by so small -a garrison. Reluctantly Montgomery dismissed the idea of blowing it -up, since the powder could not be spared, and left it outside the line -of the defences. The two strong points were the Residency itself and a -range of office buildings, high and flat-roofed, which had fortunately -been placed so as to command both the village and the all-important -landing-stage. Montgomery observed caustically that it was quite -impossible Colonel Bayard could have put it there deliberately, so -that its defensive value was a happy accident. From it communication -could be maintained with the steamers by means of flag signalling, and -thus it was that Eveleen was able to keep in touch with the events of -that long morning from the shelter contrived for her close under one -of the paddle-boxes. The <i>Asteroid</i> was a most peaceful craft, since -her builders had evidently considered bulwarks unnecessary for river -work, and her flush deck afforded no protection whatever to any one -upon it. She mounted a twelve-pounder gun, for which a breastwork had -been built up forward of boxes and cases of all sorts, and a similar -wall was erected about Eveleen and Ketty, outside which they were -forbidden to stir. Since the paddle-box cut off all view of the shore, -Eveleen insisted on having one look before she was built up in her -cell; but there was not much to see, even from the top, since the -lowness of the river left the Residency on a kind of mud cliff -considerably above the vessel. But she could see little puffy clouds -of smoke, rising and dissipating themselves slowly in the morning sky, -and followed by reports—more or less loud as they came from the heavy -matchlocks of the enemy, or the muskets which the —th were firing -through the loopholes they had cut in the mud wall with their -bayonets. On the right the reports sounded more distant, but almost -continuous—a sort of perpetual popping; but on the left shot answered -shot, as the enemy fired from cover among the village houses, and the -European marksmen replied from the office roof. Captain Franks hurried -her down, refusing to let her stay another moment, but she extracted -from him that the attack on the right was what he feared most, owing -to the expenditure of ammunition necessary to keep down the fire from -the Doctor’s House. He did not tell her, but there was another danger -at this point, in the shape of a nullah which formed a kind of covered -way right up to the wall, and which could be enfiladed only from the -Doctor’s House, so that a body of resolute men might assault with but -little fear of loss. It was noticeable, however, that the enemy, in -spite of their enormous superiority in numbers, betrayed no desire -whatever to come to close quarters, seeming satisfied with obliging -the besieged to expend their ammunition—largely wasted, of course, -owing to the ample cover around. The firing had gone on for close upon -three hours, and Eveleen, stifling in her nook among the boxes, had -assured Captain Franks piteously several times that she would rather -be shot than cooked, when a new sound, making itself heard in a -momentary lull, caused the Captain to prick up his ears—a sound of -rumbling and clanking. -</p> - -<p> -“Guns, or I’m a Dutchman!” he said to himself, and noticed how the -signalman—who but the moment before had been assuring him cheerfully -that there were masses of the enemy in the village, but they durst not -leave cover; that the orchard was full of them, but not one could even -lift up his head to look over the wall; that the three men guarding -the gate into the bazar from the stables had not even had to fire a -shot—stiffened up suddenly and listened. Captain Franks listened too. -Where would the guns get to work—from the bazar square, whence they -could not merely knock the defences to pieces, but cut off the retreat -of the besieged? But no, the enemy were taking no risks, and the old -sailor was conscious of a kind of vicarious shame on their behalf as -he realised that they would not face the fire from the office roof. -The rumbling and clanking continued along the road that flanked the -landward wall of the compound, and then seemed to drop. “The nullah!” -said Captain Franks, and turned to decipher the signals which were -appealing urgently for his attention. -</p> - -<p> -“‘To fall back from the front of the compound on the Residency, and -withdraw in an hour, when baggage has been evacuated.’ So we cut our -stick!” said Captain Franks. “What now? ‘Captain Delany will proceed -on board <i>Nebula</i>, and endeavour to rake nullah.’ Easier said than -done, if you ask me!” But he passed on the signal to his subordinate, -and presently Brian and his orderly ran down the path and across the -sandbanks. Once they were on board, the <i>Nebula</i> dropped down a little -way till she was level with the nullah, and her people passed a -strenuous hour in trying to give their pop-gun sufficient elevation -for its shots to clear the cliff and drop in upon the enemy guns. No -very marked effect seemed to be produced—certainly there was no -direct hit,—but that a certain moral suasion was exercised seemed -clear from the fact that they did not open fire. Meanwhile, the -baggage-parties were busy as ants upon the cliff path and the hard -sands. Horses came down—to be put on board the flat-bottomed boat by -which they had come,—wounded men, to be made as comfortable as -possible on the shadeless deck, with the sun blazing down upon them, -for the only alternative was the oven-like depths below. Then came the -servants, to huddle together wherever they could find room, -whitey-brown with fear, some chattering spasmodically, some awestruck -into silence. As the baggage began to arrive—all sorts of things, of -all shapes and sizes,—there was work to be done, and Captain Franks -and his mate fell upon the servants with voice and threatening -fist—feebly cheered by the delighted wounded—until they roused -themselves sufficiently to help in piling packages to serve as a -bulwark. Then came a slow-moving party bearing still burdens -shoulder-high, and several rigid forms were laid reverently on the -deck forward, and covered with a tarpaulin. -</p> - -<p> -As if this was a signal, the sound of a bugle came from the Agency—a -bugle which, though she had been warned to expect it, made Eveleen -shrink and shiver in her shelter, for it sounded the Retreat. Like a -reply to it came a burst of heavy firing, which was so alarming that -she was thankful when Captain Franks shouted down to her, “Only -covering the retreat on the office, ma’am!” Presently he added, -“They’re marching down from the water-gate now. Soon have ’em all safe -on board!” Almost as he spoke the noise of rumbling and clanking began -again, and he was black in the face before he could make her hear. -“They’ve found out how we’ve diddled ’em. S’pose they’ll bring the -guns round this way now.” -</p> - -<p> -Before he had finished, Eveleen had pushed down part of her barricade -and climbed over the rest, and was running up the ladder to his side. -In ordinary circumstances he would have felt bound to rebuke her, but -he was too busy watching the last stages of the retreat—the troops -arriving section by section at the water-gate and marching down the -path, and last of all, the defenders of the office dropping from the -back windows and covering the rear as skirmishers. Even now the enemy -hesitated to press them closely, and one or two round shot from the -<i>Asteroid</i> quite dispelled any thought of interfering with the march -across the sandbanks; but the rumbling and clanking was coming closer -again, and Captain Franks hailed Colonel Bayard with some anxiety. -</p> - -<p> -“Get on board as quick as you can, sir, if you please! There ain’t no -time for being solemn. We’ve got the flat to pick up yet, and those -guns will have the range in a minute or two. <i>Nebula</i>, ahoy! Where do -you think you’re coming to?” for the smaller steamer had left her now -useless station opposite the nullah, and was forging up towards the -<i>Asteroid</i>. Captain Warner indicated by a thumb Brian on the bridge -beside him. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, to help in the fight, of course!” shouted that young man -brightly. “We’ve got a gun too, have we not?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, but you ain’t going to use it,” returned Captain Franks, losing -all sight of the fact that military authority was now paramount. -“Cap’en Warner”—they were now so close that he had not even to use -his speaking-trumpet—“you know that wood-pile you passed three miles -up? If the enemy think of that, we’re gone geese! Full steam ahead and -stand by to protect it. If there’s nobody there, you get on board -every stick you can carry—enough for us as well as yourselves.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t go, captain,” said Brian encouragingly. “He’s trying to do you -out of the fight. Sure I’ll stand by you.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’ll be coming on board here in irons as a mutineer in another two -minutes, young gentleman,” returned Captain Franks savagely. “Cap’en -Warner, who’s senior skipper of this flotilla? You have your orders.” -</p> - -<p> -“Aye, aye, Cap’en Franks!” responded Captain Warner peaceably. “You -coming with us, sir?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it!” said Brian, and jumped from one ship to the other -as the <i>Nebula</i> drew away. He landed neatly on the paddle-box, but his -orderly, following as in duty bound, fell into the water, and had to -be rescued with ropes by the Irish soldiers, who were enjoying -themselves hugely. Hauling him up on deck meant displacing the bulwark -of boxes, which brought Captain Franks down from the bridge in wrath -to insist upon its being put back instantly, in which he was backed by -Captain Montgomery as soon as he understood what had to be done next. -The flat-bottomed boat containing the horses drew considerably less -water than the steamer, and lay farther up the little creek in the -sand, so that the <i>Asteroid</i> had to back towards her for the tow-rope -to be attached, and go ahead again to tow her out. While this -manœuvre was going on, the twelve-pounder was necessarily out of -action, and the enemy, waxing bold, made their appearance in the dry -bed of the river, as though resolved to emulate the unique feat of the -French in the Texel, and capture a vessel by means of cavalry. But the -European soldiers, lying down behind the boxes, fired through the -openings between them, and though the small remainder of precious -ammunition was woefully diminished, the enemy’s courage soon -evaporated. -</p> - -<p> -The danger was not over yet, however. The steamer was laden almost to -the water’s edge, and the flat overcrowded and difficult to move. -Twice she ran aground, and once the tow-rope broke, while the -resourceful enemy added to the confusion by opening fire from the -three guns he had by this time mounted under the trees by the -water-gate. Musketry was of no avail at such a distance, and the -<i>Asteroid</i> drew off again and brought her gun to bear, while the mate -led a party of volunteers to the rescue of the flat. Three times was -she brought a little way in triumph, and three times was the triumph -checked, but at last she was got out into the stream, while the -<i>Asteroid</i> kept down the fire of the prudent gunners at the gate. The -course of the river took the steamer and her unwieldy consort nearer -the shore again as they moved off, and they were assailed not only by -the guns, but by musketry fire from matchlockmen posted in every patch -of cover. Every one had to lie flat on the deck save Captain Franks, -who seemed to bear a charmed life as he conned his ship through the -winding channel. So obvious were the dangers of the navigation that -the enemy on the bank kept up with the steamer for two miles, in the -earnest hope of seeing her run aground, when they could have poured -down on the sands and stormed her. But she failed to fulfil their -expectation, and drew up at length level with the <i>Nebula</i>, placidly -taking in logs from a colossal stack on the opposite bank till she -looked like a floating wood-pile. They anchored for the night side by -side. -</p> - -<p> -“And we never had a fight at all, at all!” said Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“A pretty fair imitation of one,” said Richard. “You might let your -sister please herself with the belief that she has seen a fight at -last.” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Seen</i> it?” demanded Eveleen tragically. “Not the least taste of it -did I see—except puffs of smoke. Would you call it seeing to be at -the bottom of a well, and hear all sorts of things going on without -knowing what they were?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind, Mrs Ambrose,” said Montgomery. “You can always say you -were present at a fight, anyhow. Not that the famous Arabits put up -much of a fight, though.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed,” said Colonel Bayard sadly. “Why should they? They had no -desire to fight. They were driven to it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You wouldn’t say they’d not have been uncommon glad to kill us, if it -could have been done without fighting, Colonel?” put in Brian slily. -Colonel Bayard took him up sharply. -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing of the kind. Why should they wish to kill us? It was a -horrible mistake, and I could have prevented it all if the General had -given me a free hand!” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch15"> -CHAPTER XV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">—INTO THE FIRE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Awakened</span> at sunrise by the festive sound of a steam-whistle, the -fugitives from the Agency turned out to view the approach of a vessel -identified by Captain Franks as the <i>Galaxy</i>. European soldiers -clustered on her deck, and an officer waved greetings from the -paddle-box. As the steamers neared one another, Eveleen recognised him -as her old enemy Captain Crosse. -</p> - -<p> -“Too late, I see!” he shouted lugubriously. “We start off <i>ek dum</i> to -rescue you, and you’ve done the rescuing yourselves!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, what have you got on board?” asked Colonel Bayard. -</p> - -<p> -“Fifty men and ten thousand rounds of ammunition, colonel—and -despatches. You were to hold on until the General came to relieve -you.” -</p> - -<p> -“To relieve me? Sir Henry is close at hand, then?” -</p> - -<p> -“Three hours’ steaming—certainly no more. We should have met you -sooner if we could have got on in the dark. Here’s the General’s -letter.” He held it out, and Brian, making a long arm from the -<i>Asteroid’s</i> paddle-box, took it from him. -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks. Come to breakfast, won’t you?” said Colonel Bayard shortly, -and withdrew a pace or two—there was no possible privacy in the -crowded ship—to read the despatch. Presently he beckoned to Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“He is bent on fighting,” he said with a sigh. “Look here—this was -written after receiving mine sent after our return from the durbar, -when I said I feared we might be besieged, and asked for supplies. You -see he bids me point-blank break off negotiations, and make no further -efforts for peace.” -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly he thought you had done all that could be done in that -line——” with great seriousness. “That was the letter in which you -urged him to send away the army and come to Qadirabad himself—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I urged it most strongly. And what does he do? Destroys the last -hope of accommodation—orders me to leave the Agency at once and -rejoin him, or if that’s impossible, put up a good defence and wait -for him there.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what else could he have done?” asked Richard curiously. -</p> - -<p> -“Waited—shown some patience, some forbearance, instead of hurrying -things like this. The old man knows nothing of Oriental ways—that’s -the sole excuse for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I shall begin to think the General ain’t so far wrong in his estimate -of old Indians, when he says they have got more Oriental than the -Orientals themselves!” grumbled Richard to himself as Colonel Bayard -turned away from him abruptly to greet Captain Crosse as he came on -board. -</p> - -<p> -“And I have a special message for Mrs Ambrose,” the visitor was -saying. “Sir Henry was highly displeased when he heard where she was, -and is sharpening his tongue to give her the scolding she deserves.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sharpening his tongue, is it?” cried Eveleen in high scorn. “Sure -it’s hardening his heart he means—or trying to.” -</p> - -<p> -“Have it your own way, ma’am,” said Captain Crosse pacifically. “No -doubt the General will argue it out with you, but I know better.” -</p> - -<p> -That the General was quite ready to deal with every one as he or she -deserved was made plain when the steamers arrived level with his camp. -It lay some little distance from the river, but he had sent horses to -be ready for them, and as Colonel Bayard and his party rode on ahead -of the troops, an approaching cloud of dust showed that he was -welcoming them in person. In his usual breakneck style he dashed up -with his staff, and shook hands all round with his left hand, for his -right arm was in a sling. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, Mrs Ambrose! anywhere else I should have been proud to see you. -Glad you’re safe, Bayard. You have made a fine defence, sir—I shall -have much pleasure in reporting it in the proper quarter. A little bit -out of conceit with the Khans now—eh? Three times in one day you -wrote to me they hadn’t an armed man in Qadirabad save their own -servants, and two days later they were besieging you with seven or -eight thousand troops!” -</p> - -<p> -“You are better informed than I, General.” Colonel Bayard spoke -somewhat stiffly. “How you have arrived at that exact figure——” -</p> - -<p> -“Spies, man, spies! Not being glued to steamers, they came on while -you were all snoozing sweetly in the night, though they had to skirt -round to flank the <i>shikargahs</i>, which you must have passed in happy -innocence that a whole army was concealed there. I was taking their -lowest estimate. What do you make the numbers, then—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Anything up to eighteen thousand men, General, from what we saw when -they tried to harass us from the bank.” -</p> - -<p> -“H’m. My information suggests more than that. By the seven thousand I -meant those only who beset the Residency. And in a nasty resolute -temper—eh? You believe that now?” -</p> - -<p> -“For the moment, nothing more. Believe me, their heart ain’t in it. If -you could have met their Highnesses face to face——” -</p> - -<p> -“Heavens, man! if I had taken your advice, the army would still be -three days’ march away at least, and my reinforcement could never have -reached you in time.” -</p> - -<p> -“A reinforcement without ammunition, General!” -</p> - -<p> -“My orders were that they should have sixty rounds apiece, but they -were in such a hurry to be off they never took ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, with that sixty rounds we could have held out till you came. You, -General—not the army. Your presence would have removed all -difficulties.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, and my head from my shoulders—as I said when I got your letter. -What! you won’t believe a word against your dear gentle Khans, even -now? D’ye know anything of an unfortunate white man—an American, so -they tell me—called Thomas, who commanded their artillery?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, yes, General. We owe him much gratitude——” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you’ll never have the chance of repaying him in this world. -Faced with the order to fire on persons of his own colour, he refused, -and they cut off his nose and ears, and killed him.” -</p> - -<p> -“And ’twas his warning saved all our lives!” cried Eveleen wildly. -“Oh, poor Tom Carthew, poor poor Tom! And that was the man”—she faced -round suddenly on her husband—“you wanted to forbid me to speak to!” -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose there’s no doubt, sir——?” asked Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“None whatever, I fear. The spy hesitated to tell me—because, so -Munshi said, he didn’t like to bring such news about a sahib. I told -him to say the only thing it would make me angry to hear would be that -the Sahib had stooped to dishonour, and I gave the spy ten rupees when -he had revealed the sad yet glorious truth. Not much doubt there. A -word with you, Ambrose, if you please.” -</p> - -<p> -For once Colonel Bayard had no defence to offer of the Khans’ action, -and he dropped behind with Eveleen, pretending, with his usual -kindness, not to notice the tears she was unable to conceal, while -Richard took his place beside Sir Harry. The old soldier was -perturbed. -</p> - -<p> -“Is Bayard wilfully blind, or is he mad?” he demanded wrathfully as -they drew ahead. “I have been mistaken in the man. Nothing but -massacre will open his eyes.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think he has been trying to force himself to retain confidence in -the Khans, sir; but surely his eyes must be opened now! Did you hear -that the attack on the Agency was directed by Khair Husain Khan, who -had offered the day before to bring his troops to protect us? I saw -him plainly with my telescope, leading his army industriously from the -rear.” -</p> - -<p> -The General laughed—a short hard laugh. “Well, they have come to the -end of their tricks and evasions now! At nine to-morrow morning I lead -my gallant troops against ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“Have you stipulated with the Khans that they shall await your -onslaught, General?” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Harry laughed again. “I think they will—I trust they will. Were -their numbers double the eighteen thousand Bayard gives ’em, I would -still advance, but they may well consider eighteen thousand fairly -matched against two. They are awaiting us at Mahighar. We march at -dawn, and they won’t find us backward in keeping the appointment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you propose to attack ’em in front, sir?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do. Look at this: I had the choice of two roads. By marching inland -I might have come on ’em from the rear and turned their right flank, -penning ’em up with their backs to the river. But if my plans -miscarried, I in my turn should run the risk of being dispersed and -cut off in detail, since I should have nothing behind me but the -desert. True, if successful, I might annihilate ’em, but I ain’t a -lover of bloodshed, though Bayard believes me one. Whereas, coming at -’em straight in front, if I am beat back I retreat on the river, where -are my steamers, and where I entrench myself while waiting for the -reinforcements I have ordered down from Sahar. Why don’t I wait for -’em? you’ll say. Because I have enough men to beat the Khans with, and -I won’t rob my troops of their glory by bringing in others to share -it.” -</p> - -<p> -“’Pon my honour, General”—Richard spoke with unwonted enthusiasm—“I -believe you’ll find ’em answer your expectations.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know I shall. There ain’t a regiment in Her Majesty’s Army I would -rather have with me than my dear uproarious Irish boys—as tumultuous -in peace as they are terrible in fight. But what I wished to ask you -was about Mrs Ambrose. Do you prefer her to return on board the -<i>Asteroid</i> when we march, or to take the chances of the battle with -us?” -</p> - -<p> -“That must be as you decide, General.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, I beg of you to make the choice. In Spain no one would have felt -the least surprise at her remaining with you, but we do things -differently nowadays.” -</p> - -<p> -“Honestly, sir, I should infinitely prefer to leave her in the charge -of Mr Franks, but I can’t flatter myself she would remain there unless -she chose.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely. And to embark on adventures of her own selection in a -country swarming with enemies might entail consequences that would -load us with remorse for the rest of our days—and none more than -myself. She shall accompany you and the force, but I will give her a -little good advice first.” -</p> - -<p> -“May I say, General, how deeply I deplore that Mrs Ambrose’s conduct -should require to engage your attention at such a moment?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, my good fellow! I have often thought you don’t half -appreciate your good fortune in finding yourself linked to a lady -happily endowed with perennial youth. Now don’t look for a nasty -meaning when I intend a compliment of a sort, but do me the favour to -find out whether Bayard has any more maggots in his brain.” -</p> - -<p> -This meant that Eveleen became Sir Henry’s companion. She did so with -a certain diffidence, for it had begun to dawn upon her that her -presence was not precisely welcome. Possibly Captain Crosse had aided -her to make the discovery by a muttered remark about charming ladies -who <i>would</i> poke their noses in where they weren’t wanted. He had said -from the first that European women had no business in Khemistan, she -might remember? She did remember, but would not flatter him by -acknowledging it, nor take any notice now when he murmured what -sounded like “something like a wigging!” The news of Tom Carthew’s -death had subdued her a good deal, so that the severe glance Sir Harry -turned upon her did not, as it would generally have done, pique her to -fresh flightiness. -</p> - -<p> -“And pray, ma’am, why did you force yourself into Colonel Bayard’s -mission to Qadirabad?” he asked her. -</p> - -<p> -She scorned the quibble that the Colonel had said he would welcome her -presence. “Ah, now, Sir Harry, wouldn’t you have found Sahar dull if -you’d been me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Was that your sole reason, pray?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it. Ambrose wouldn’t take me with him to Sultankot, so I -told him the next time I’d come without asking. And I did.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see. That you might boast a cheap triumph over your husband, you -chose to double—or at least to add very largely to my anxieties at -this time?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well now, to tell you the truth, I never thought of that!” -</p> - -<p> -The confession was so naïve and unexpected that Sir Harry nearly -spoiled the effect of his lecture by laughing. But he managed to -preserve a proper severity of demeanour as he said, “Let me assure you -I have been a prey to the most serious apprehensions as to your -safety.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, then, I ought to be flattered that Sir Harry Lennox would -think of me at all at such a time.” -</p> - -<p> -She must have scented the unreality of his last remark! “I fear,” he -said smoothly, “Mrs Ambrose would hardly be flattered did she realise -the nature of my thoughts. But if you have no consideration for me, is -there none due to my good friend your excellent husband?” -</p> - -<p> -“And don’t I show my consideration by wanting to be with him wherever -he goes? Who could take better care of him, if he got hurt, than his -own wife?” -</p> - -<p> -“Whom he would infinitely prefer to know in safety at Sahar! Have some -compassion on the poor fellow’s mind, ma’am—don’t keep it all for his -body. Believe me, you have no right to inflict these additional -anxieties on persons who have enough to think of already. You have had -a tolerable example, surely, in the fate of the unfortunate man -Thomas?” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure it was for my sake he brought the warning, and saved all our -lives!” cried Eveleen indignantly. -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly, though some inkling of what was in hand would probably have -reached Bayard in any case. But don’t it occur to you that the reason -the test was proposed to the unhappy man was that his errand had been -divined, and he was given the choice of proving his fidelity to his -employers or expiating what they would consider his treachery?” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you tell me he lost his own life by saving ours?” -</p> - -<p> -“In consequence of saving them, as far as I see. The honour of your -friendship, ma’am, ain’t without its penalties. Shocking rude old -fellow, ain’t I?” as she gazed at him incredulously. “Believe me, I -would withdraw that remark if I could, but what does your own -conscience say about it?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s cruel y’are!” wept Eveleen. “When you know I would die for my -friends!” -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me,” drily—“they die for you, you mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, cruel, cruel! As if I’d ever, ever go where I wasn’t wanted -again!” -</p> - -<p> -“Come! now I have hopes of you. Does that mean that if I can find a -safe place for you among the baggage to-morrow, you pledge your word -to stay where you are put and do what you are bid?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, and I’ll see the battle?” joyfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Impossible to say, but I should think it unlikely. Will you do -absolutely what you are told—whether you find yourself in a good -place for seeing or not?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will, I will! and I’ll be grateful to y’all my days.” -</p> - -<p> -“May they be many!” Sir Harry’s tone was still dry. “If you don’t keep -your word they won’t be—that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, would y’have the heart to have me shot?” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite unnecessary. The enemy will see to that if you go running about -the country—or our own camp-followers, who are the choicest mob of -rascals I ever saw. I know they’re capable of any enormity, because -they treat their dumb beasts so abominably. I owe this to one of -’em”—he indicated his bandaged right hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, did y’interpose to prevent a blow and receive it yourself, Sir -Harry?” with interest. -</p> - -<p> -“Not precisely. A scoundrel was knocking his poor camel about, and my -fist found its way to his forehead. The fellow had a head like a rock! -It was my hand that was smashed; he remained unhurt. Munshi tells me -that the rascals have a game of running at one another with their -heads down, butting like rams, and I believe it—save that the sport -must be too harmless to be profitable.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad ’twas for a camel you did it,” said Eveleen. “Anybody would -defend a horse, but y’are the only one that’s really fond of camels, -don’t you know?” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Henry looked at her suspiciously, and took advantage of -circumstances to change the subject with finality. “Here we are, you -see. We have managed to find a tent for you, but furniture was beyond -us. I call it the one advantage of Indian travelling, that each -visitor brings his own four-poster along with him.” -</p> - -<p> -He dismounted with amazing agility, and came to help Eveleen from her -saddle, but was interrupted by Colonel Bayard. -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose has been telling me your plans, General, and I can’t say how -glad I am to find you share my view that it ain’t bloodshed, but a -moral effect, that’s called for. May I be permitted to do my part? -Lend me a couple of hundred Europeans and the steamers, and give me -one more day, and we will fire the <i>shikargahs</i> and drive the game -towards you. No Orientals can stand being taken in flank, and where -they would fight desperately if assailed in front, it would not -surprise me did they surrender without fighting at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“H’m!” grunted Sir Harry. “Presently, presently! We don’t hold -councils of war in public, my good fellow. But Europeans? Certainly -not. I have but four hundred in my whole army, and each man is worth -his weight in diamonds to me. And no more delay—not an hour! You must -be back in time. Can’t put off the battle to suit you. Sorry to keep -you waiting, ma’am.” -</p> - -<p> -The day wore itself away slowly enough. Eveleen was tired after the -excitements of the last forty-eight hours, but she found it difficult -to rest. It was the cold weather, but at midday the heat made a tent a -very inadequate shelter, and the many sounds of a camp suggested such -interesting things which might be happening that she was for ever -jumping up to look out. Richard and Brian were busy outside the -General’s little tent close by. It was pitched under a rather -inadequate tree, in the shade of which the office work was necessarily -done, since it could not possibly have been accomplished inside. -Messengers came and went, officers arrived with reports of various -kinds, deputations of men with representations to make, offenders to -receive admonition—and the General dealt with them in patriarchal -style. Late in the afternoon Colonel Bayard and his two hundred Native -Infantry left for the steamers, the officers not disguising their -dissatisfaction at the possibility of missing the battle. At sunset -there was a far more picturesque spectacle, when the Khemistan Horse -rode out to reconnoitre from the land side the hunting-forest in which -the enemy was supposed to be concealed, and thus distract their -attention from Colonel Bayard’s operations by water. The camp woke up -as the sun went down. Fires were lighted, and the men who had grumbled -at the heat in their tents all day came out gladly to enjoy the -warmth. Sitting round the fires, they watched their meal cooking, and -exulted in the thought of the morrow. The British Army groused in -those days as in these, but the <i>nil admirari</i> pose had not yet become -fashionable—or if it had, it had passed by these Irish lads and left -them unscathed. The General had a wood fire in front of his tent like -the rest, and its smoke served as a much-needed deterrent from the -attentions of the mosquitoes. He and Eveleen and his staff sat on -small boxes round a large box for a table, and when the resources of -his two canteens were exhausted, shared tumblers and even plates. Sir -Henry was in a reminiscent mood. He talked about his parents—his -father a giant both in mind and body, who would have been the greatest -General of the age had a bat-like Government but taken advantage of -his powers; his mother at once the best and the most beautiful woman -of her time. Then he turned to his brothers, of whom there were -several, each remarkable in his particular sphere, but none to compare -with the two who were soldiers like himself, and like him, had fought -and bled in the Peninsula. They had attained a certain measure of -recognition, but nothing to what they should have received had they -been treated fairly: there was a cross-grained fate pursuing every -Lennox which robbed him of the due reward of his deeds. In all this he -called upon his nephew—son to one of the ill-used soldiers—for -confirmation, which was dutifully given. But when the General’s -attention was distracted for a moment by the arrival of a message, -Frederick Lennox spoke in a hollow whisper to Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s all quite true, and yet there ain’t a word of it true! What’s -wrong with us Lennoxes is that we are all of us such queer -cross-grained fellows that we make our own enemies.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was greatly interested, for the Lennox temperament seemed to -have an affinity with her own—as Richard had once hinted,—and she -would fain have pursued the subject, but the General’s eye was upon -them again. The message had apparently recalled him from the past to -the present. -</p> - -<p> -“They tell me now that if the Khans bring up all their forces, they -will put sixty thousand Arabits into the field against us to-morrow,” -he said. “Well, be they sixty or a hundred thousand, I’ll fight ’em! -It shall be do or die. No Ethiopian muddle for me! I would never show -my face again. Well, Heaven grant me to be worthy of my wife and -girls, and not disgrace ’em!” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure y’are the first ever mentioned disgrace in the same breath with -yourself, Sir Harry,” said Eveleen earnestly. He glowered at her. -</p> - -<p> -“Young troops—never saw a fight before, and a leader with no -experience of high command! The Duke’s battles were ended when he was -ten years younger than I—Napoleon’s the same. Yet there’s a kind of -elation in the delightful anxiety of leading an army—and such an -army—against a force twenty times its number. How many proud Arabits -will have bit the dust by this hour to-morrow! But who am I, to dare -to rejoice in the prospect of taking life, instead of lamenting the -grievous necessity? At least I have done my utmost to avoid -bloodshed—even Bayard admits it.” He had been talking as if to -himself, but his tone changed suddenly. “Well, well; a bit more -writing and a visit to the outposts, then three hours’ sleep, for I -had none last night—some foolish report or other coming in all night -long. Get what rest you can, Mrs Ambrose, and you, gentlemen. We march -at four.” -</p> - -<p> -The night felt very short to Eveleen, though she must have had at -least two hours’ more sleep than the General. It was in that most -uncomfortable hour before dawn that she was waked, and it seemed -impossible ever to get ready in the cold and the confined space and by -the light of a dimly burning lantern. But she was outside at last, in -a chill grey light in which figures moved like shadows at first, but -gradually became more distinct. Richard brought her a cup of coffee, -which was hot and sweet and strong—the very stimulant she -needed,—and Brian presented her with a chunk of meat balanced on a -biscuit, which required all her attention to get it conveyed safely to -her mouth. When it was disposed of, she had leisure to look about. The -camp was disappearing amid cracks and creaks; soldiers, servants, -camp-followers were running about like ants in a threatened ant-hill. -The General, in a sheepskin coat which combined with his spectacles to -give him the look of a philosopher turned bandit, was receiving a -report from a dark-faced officer with a bushy black beard—Captain -Keeling of the Khemistan Horse,—which seemed to make him very angry. -</p> - -<p> -“No sign of the enemy in the <i>shikargahs</i>? Then where on earth have -they got to? If their hearts have failed ’em again, I’ll chase ’em to -the gate of Qadirabad and out at t’other end! Then Bayard’s expedition -will be no use, and I can’t get at him! I wish I had never let him -go—robbing me of two hundred of my best sepoys and three invaluable -officers. Well, many thanks for the information, Keeling. You are -advanced guard now, you know. I needn’t tell you to keep a sharp -look-out for the rascals, with all these woods and nullahs about.” -</p> - -<p> -Captain Keeling saluted and rode away, and somehow or other, from a -mob falling aimlessly over each other’s feet, the army sorted itself -out and into column of route, and the march began. The cavalry ahead -and on the flanks may have been able to see where they were going, but -the dust they stirred up made a gritty fog in which the infantry -toiled along blindly. It was full daylight now, and the sun was -growing hot. The General had discarded his woolly coat and carried it -before him on the saddle, and Eveleen threw back the veil she had worn -to protect her face from the dust, that she might at least be able to -breathe. In a brief halt about seven o’clock, Sir Henry conferred with -Captain Keeling again, and the Khemistan Horse trotted off briskly on -another reconnaissance, their place in the van being taken by a Bengal -Cavalry regiment. The army had not long got into motion again before a -gun was heard in front, then a regular fusillade, which was repeated -at brief intervals. -</p> - -<p> -“He’s found ’em this time!” chuckled Sir Henry, and presently a sowar, -his horse in a lather, galloped back and presented a note. The General -read it with visible pleasure. -</p> - -<p> -“The Arabits have kept the appointment right enough, gentlemen,” he -said to his staff. “They are drawn up behind Mahighar—the very place -I fixed on,—a strong position, so Keeling says, with both flanks -protected by <i>shikargahs</i> and the front by a deep dry watercourse. He -estimates them at twenty thousand at least, with fifteen guns. The -Khans are in camp behind a fortified village on their right. He -remains under fire to reconnoitre more closely, which will give us -time for our part of the business.” -</p> - -<p> -A brief order sent Brian back with the sowar, to bring the latest -news, and orderlies were despatched down the column to hurry the -loiterers and prevent straggling. Stewart rode ahead with the Engineer -officers, who knew exactly what they had to do, and presently the -General and his companions arrived at a clump of scraggy trees, round -which the ground was being neatly marked out with flags. -</p> - -<p> -“Headquarters,” said Sir Henry laconically. “Ambrose, I shan’t want -you at present. You had better find out a nice sheltered place for Mrs -Ambrose here on the right somewhere. You won’t be disturbed. That’s -where the hospital tents will be, and there are no invalids to-day—as -yet. Dare say he don’t want to do anything of the kind,” he added, -more audibly than he intended, to Brian; “but hang it! a man does owe -some duty to his wife.” -</p> - -<p> -Absurdly embarrassed, and not a little angry, Richard obeyed, and -Eveleen, lifted from her saddle, led the way into the grateful shade -of the little wood. The air was full of the thunder of the guns, and -her husband had to shout when he warned her of a projecting root that -might have made her trip. They paused in sight of the tents in course -of erection, where the surgeons—with what looked like, but doubtless -was not, unholy joy—were setting out in order objects of gruesome -aspect, and Eveleen turned with a smile. -</p> - -<p> -“How cross y’are, Ambrose! Y’ought be giving me all sorts of farewell -messages, don’t you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know that there’s much to tell you,” he said gruffly. “Stay -near your tent, and do what you are told. If—if things go wrong, old -Abdul Qaiyam will take care of you, and get you away if it can be -done. You promise to do exactly as he says?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t have thought you’d consider it dignified to take orders -from the bearer, but if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll do it by all -means.” -</p> - -<p> -“And—if the worst comes to the worst, you know what to do? You have a -pistol?” -</p> - -<p> -“I have that. Sure it’s a pleasure to find you think me capable of -doing the proper thing sometimes—if it’s only once in the world.” -</p> - -<p> -“You appear to be in excellent spirits. I congratulate you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, and it <i>is</i> appearance, and nothing else——” furiously. “D’ -y’ask me why? Because if I didn’t I’d <i>howl</i>—there! and how would you -like that?” -</p> - -<p> -Horribly ashamed, and even more embarrassed than before, Richard felt -the absolute necessity of making some acknowledgment, and forced a -“Thank you!” from his reluctant lips. Reading rather than hearing it, -Eveleen laughed with the tears in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are so English, Ambrose! But don’t let us tease one another any -more at all. I’ll be quite happy making a garland to crown you with -when you come back victorious. And you’ll be happy knowing I’m quite -safe.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know,” he said dubiously. “This spot is shockingly -exposed—no defence of any kind—— Oh, look there! I might have known -Sir Henry would have some plan of his own. This is what they do at the -Cape in repelling Kaffir attacks—but there they have waggons for -their breastwork. D’ye see—between those two tents—the camels -kneeling with their heads outwards, and the baggage piled up between -’em, to make a barricade to fire over? A regular fortification! The -Arabits will think twice before they try to spread panic among our -camp-followers now—all herded inside, and a strong guard—though it -reduces our numbers——” -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind! The fewer the greater honour,” said Eveleen, and after a -time they walked back towards the spot designated as headquarters, -where Sir Henry and the staff were just preparing to mount. A cloud of -dust to the right showed where the artillery was taking up its -position, while on the left the Bengal Cavalry were moving off to -support the Khemistan Horse. In front, drawn up in serried ranks, as -if on parade, was the infantry—the Queen’s —th in the post of honour -next to the guns. -</p> - -<p> -“Hanged if I’d let my enemy take up his position as calmly as at a -review, if I was an Arabit commander,” said the General. “I wonder if -they have anything in the watercourse that Keeling did not see—any -sort of trap. We shall soon find out for ourselves.” -</p> - -<p> -“A frontal attack, General?” asked Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“Necessarily. Keeling sends word that he tried to ride round their -left, but the jungle is full of nullahs, all scarped, and matchlockmen -in the trees. I myself reconnoitred to the right just now with the -Bengalis, and it’s equally bad there—thick woods on either bank of -the watercourse, which is deep in wet mud. No matchlockmen showed -their noses, but that’s their cunning. They must be there, they would -be fools if they didn’t hold that <i>shikargah</i>, and worse fools if they -told me they were doing it. We caught sight of a smoke in the -distance, so Bayard has done his work, though miles away from the -enemy’s position. I wish I had that detachment back, but that’s crying -over spilt milk. Good-bye, Mrs Ambrose; give us your prayers.” -</p> - -<p> -He bowed from his saddle to shake hands, and Eveleen looked up at him -with brimming eyes. “God bring you safe through, Sir Harry—and you, -my boy Brian and you——” she could not utter her husband’s name, but -gave her hand to each man as he bent towards her in passing. By the -cloud of dust that followed their movements she could see that Sir -Harry was taking up his position at the head of his array, and the -line moved off, rather to the right, while the firing continued on the -left. Had the baggage-guard occupied a hill of any sort, it might have -been possible to follow the fortunes of the fight; but the plain was -perfectly flat, and there was not even a house-roof to mount. Eveleen -wandered about with a white face, listening to the cannonade, and -wondering, whenever a momentary pause came, what terrible meaning it -might bear. The surgeons and their native assistants were fidgeting in -and out of the hospital tents, having few preparations to make -compared with their successors of to-day, and they also were -listening. At last the sound of the enemy’s fire was drowned by a -nearer roar—more sustained and regular. -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye hear that, ma’am?” cried the nearest doctor, waving an unrolled -bandage about his head like a conjuror. “That’s blessed old Brown -Bess. We’ve got into touch with ’em! Now we shall soon have plenty to -do. There are our guns now!” -</p> - -<p> -It was thrilling, but not enlightening. The rival roars continued, now -one predominating, now the other, then both uniting in a crash that -made the earth shake; but there was nothing to be seen but dust below -and distant smoke mounting into the blue sky above. Then curious -little forms appeared on the edge of the dust-cloud, looking like some -new kind of quadruped, and resolved themselves into doolies, each -carried by two brown men, running and panting as if in terror, but -bringing in their burdens faithfully through the gap left in the -barricade, and depositing them at the hospital tents. -</p> - -<p> -“Better go round the other side of the <i>tope</i>, ma’am,” said the -surgeon, advancing with dreadful determination. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps I could help?” suggested Eveleen half-heartedly. -</p> - -<p> -“No, no. We don’t want ladies mixing themselves up in this sort of -work,” blissfully unconscious of the change a mere dozen of years was -to bring forth, and Eveleen retired to the shelter of her tent, and -stopped her ears from the sounds she thought she heard. Then the -surgeon hurried across to her. -</p> - -<p> -“Fellow here, Mrs Ambrose—Kenton of the N.I.—pretty bad—if you -would sit by him and talk, or let him talk. We shall have to amputate -presently, but our hands are full just now, and he’s a nervous sort of -chap. If you can get him to talk to you, it’ll take his mind off it.” -</p> - -<p> -Horribly scared, but ashamed to refuse, Eveleen went back with him, to -find the wounded man—boy rather, for he must have been younger than -Brian—laid in the shade of the trees. His face was white and drawn, -but over his body, at which Eveleen glanced fearfully, a covering had -been thrown. The doctor broke a branch from the nearest tree and put -it into her hand. -</p> - -<p> -“That will keep the flies off, at any rate. And if he’s thirsty, you -can give him some water. Now please talk!”—in an urgent whisper, as -he went off. -</p> - -<p> -It seemed horrible to disturb any one who was in such pain, but as -Eveleen sat down beside the boy she managed to say, “Don’t answer if -it hurts you too much, but just tell me—we are winning?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course!” The closed eyes opened with an effort, and met hers -indignantly. “With such a commander, and such men, how could we -possibly lose?” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure y’are a boy after the General’s own heart!” said Eveleen -approvingly. Then, catching the doctor’s nod of encouragement as he -disappeared round a tent, she went on. “But tell me now, why did Sir -Harry turn to the right, when the poor Khemistan Horse had been under -fire so long on the left?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because the matchlock-fire from the village was too heavy. Keeling’s -men were in skirmishing order, lying down behind their horses, and -couldn’t take much harm, but to lead a column of infantry into it -would have been destruction. But tell you what”—he spoke vivaciously, -though in a thin weak voice, and she had grown sufficiently accustomed -to the noise of the battle to be able to hear—“we very nearly caught -it just as hot on the right, and if the enemy commander knew his -business we should have done. That <i>shikargah</i> there, which Sir Henry -reconnoitred with the Bengalis without seeing a soul, has a wall in -front of it, and in the wall was a gap—just broken by accident, as -you might say. But as we came near, there was a chap sitting astride -upon the wall, near the gap, who fired at the General, and missed. -Then another matchlock was handed up to him, and another, but he -missed every time, and one of our men toppled him off the wall with a -bullet. The General stood up in his stirrups and looked at the place -with his telescope, and then dismounted and went quite close. Then he -told Captain Crosse, of my regiment, to take his company just inside -the gap and hold it at all costs. And he is holding it, I tell you! We -heard the firing break out in the wood as we marched on. They had -prepared an ambush there to fall upon our flank, do you see? and if -they’d had the sense to cut loopholes, or throw up a banquette for -firing over the wall, they might have swept us all away—if they -hadn’t betrayed themselves by setting their sharpshooter to pick off -the General.” -</p> - -<p> -“And then? if y’are not too tired,” said Eveleen quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“Tired? It helps me to forget, you see. They were firing at us from -the opposite bank of the dry river as we got closer, but we held our -fire till we were not more than a hundred yards off. We marched on up -to the very bank, and then—give you my word, we did get a start! -Looking down into the bed of the stream was like looking into a sea of -turbaned heads, with rolling eyes and grinning teeth, and swords and -shields; and they all came at us with a frightful yell. They had been -crouching behind the bank to surprise us—and they did. We went at it -ding-dong, musket and matchlock and pistol, and bayonet and shield and -tulwar, they rushing up the bank in waves and rolling us back, and -then our men rallying and pouring in a volley that checked ’em a bit. -And the General riding up and down between, holloing us on! Didn’t you -hear ’em cheer him when he rallied the Queen’s —th? I should have -thought it could have been heard at Qadirabad! And then I went down, -and he sent an orderly to get a doolie, and Paddy the aide—oh, I beg -your pardon; that’s your brother, ain’t it?—helped to get me into it, -and that’s all I know. But tell me, what time is it?” -</p> - -<p> -“It must be quite noon, I think,” said Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Noon? and we went into it at nine! Has the cavalry charged yet, do -you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“The whole army might have charged, but we wouldn’t know. There is not -a thing to be seen for dust.” -</p> - -<p> -“Believe me, you’d know if the Bengalis charged. The ground would -shake—quite a different feeling from the rumble the guns make. Oh, -why, why ain’t they charging the village? That was what the General -sent ’em to support the Khemistan Horse for—we all knew it—to make a -diversion if he was hard pressed. He can’t keep it up if they -don’t—there’s a hundred Arabits to every man of ours. We shall be cut -to pieces—— No, no—listen; what’s that?” -</p> - -<p> -He tried to start up, but Eveleen held him down gently. “I hear, I -hear!” she cried, almost as excited as himself. “A different sound -entirely—like rolling thunder! I feel it more than I hear. Oh, will -it, will it be the charge?” -</p> - -<p> -“It must be a charge, but is it their cavalry or ours? No, help me to -turn my head, please——” and with a great effort he got his ear near -the ground. “It <i>is</i> ours—the noise is going away from us. This is -victory, then.” -</p> - -<p> -For a few minutes the din of firing broke out with such force as to -drown all other sounds. Then it became broken and irregular, then -seemed to pass away altogether to the right. Neither Eveleen nor the -wounded boy could say a word. With parted lips and wildly beating -hearts they stared at one another, afraid to move lest they should -lose some pregnant sound as the minutes rolled on. Then they both -became aware that the sound of the firing had ceased. From far, far in -the distance came a thin flat cheer, then another, then a third. -</p> - -<p> -“We’ve won!” said young Kenton. “I don’t mind now,” and fainted. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch16"> -CHAPTER XVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE MORROW OF VICTORY.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">We</span> are honoured, Mrs Ambrose,” said Sir Harry, with his most -courtly bow, as Eveleen hurried out of her tent—as quickly as its -extreme smallness would allow—to receive the dusty and grimy company -that rode up. The baggage and hospitals had moved on in the wake of -the tide of battle, and the night’s bivouac was on the other side of -the watercourse which had served the enemy as a trench—close to the -stretch of ground on which the Khans and their army had been encamped -the night before. “Valour would lose half its reward without the -approbation of the fair.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah then, Sir Harry, you have spoilt my compliment that I was going to -offer! What’s the use of my telling you y’are brave, when y’have said -it about yourselves already?” -</p> - -<p> -“But how could we be other than brave when we had Mrs Ambrose to fight -for?” asked the General gallantly. -</p> - -<p> -“Cot, Evie!” cried Brian. “Acknowledge us all as heroes now, or -confess your smiles have lost their power.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where’s that wreath of mine?” demanded Richard—a little above -himself, like the rest, after this wonderful day. -</p> - -<p> -“Here!” said Eveleen unexpectedly, bringing it out from behind her, -but he was equal to the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -“Present it to the General, then, pray. We may all be heroes, as your -brother says, but there would have been no victory without him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will y’accept it, Sir Harry?” Eveleen held up the wreath. -</p> - -<p> -“May it be conferred upon Black Prince instead? At one moment I -confess I was on the point of saving my valuable life by sacrificing -his, poor beast! so it’s fitting he should have some reward, -especially since poor Kenton—— But how is my young hero?” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite happy once we heard the soldiers cheering for the victory——” -Eveleen was arranging the wreath over the charger’s ears. “They took -his arm off soon after that, and I have not seen him since, but the -surgeon says he will do well. Then was it he or Black Prince saved -your life, Sir Harry?” -</p> - -<p> -“Young Kenton, as it happened. A big strapping fellow of an Arabit -came over the bank, saw me riding alone in front of the line, and made -straight for me. With these broken fingers, I was powerless to defend -myself, but I got half the reins into that hand, with frightful agony, -intending as he cut at me to give Black Prince’s head a chuck that -would make the poor animal the recipient of the blow instead of me. -But Kenton ran forward and took the cut on his arm, thrusting at the -Arabit, who warded it off with his shield, and would have cut at us -again, had not a soldier come up in time with his bayonet. So you see -I have the three of ’em to thank.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m jealous,” said Eveleen discontentedly. “What were these two men -of mine doing, Sir Harry?” -</p> - -<p> -“Staying where they were told, ma’am, and carrying messages when they -were required. D’ye think I wanted the whole staff trotting up and -down with me to draw the enemy’s fire, and riding down our own men -when they turned? I tell you there was no room for parade manœuvres -of that sort. Our line was never more than three yards from the -enemy’s—sometimes only one. So don’t scold these good fellows when -they deserve to be praised rather. We shall meet at dinner, -gentlemen.” -</p> - -<p> -He bowed again to her as he hobbled into his little shabby tent, and -the staff separated hastily, to make such improvements in their -appearance as the scanty materials at hand permitted, for the -General’s strict regulations as to baggage were still rigorously -enforced. Once more the party sat on boxes, with two larger boxes put -together for a table, and as always when Sir Harry was on active -service, the only drink was water. Bottled beer—which every European -on the Bombay side regarded as a necessary of life,—wine, and spirits -were sternly excluded from his campaigning requisites, as also smoking -materials of all kinds. But the meal was cheerful, even hilarious, and -every one had something to tell of the events of the day. -</p> - -<p> -“What a battle!” said Sir Harry at last. “Three mortal hours of -helter-skelter fighting—musket against tulwar and shield,—and the -two lines within arm’s reach of one another the whole time. I saw our -soldiers loading in their haste without using the ramrod at all, -merely knocking the butt of the piece on the ground, and coolly -changing blunted flints while presenting the bayonet at the enemy. -Were there ever such troops?” -</p> - -<p> -“Was there ever such a commander, General?” said Brian, in the easy -way in which an Irishman can pay a compliment without appearing -fulsome. “The troops would have broke and run time and again without -you to rally ’em. They would have done nothing without you.” The rest -murmured hearty assent. -</p> - -<p> -“So the generous honest fellows testified when they gave me that cheer -in the midst of the battle,” said Sir Harry, with deep emotion. -“Believe me, gentlemen, I accepted it as the most moving tribute ever -paid to a British commander. But I had no choice. From the moment I -knew of the numbers of the enemy, and perceived his dispositions, I -saw I must lead my soldiers against him before they were aware of his -masses, and remain myself in the forefront of the fight throughout. A -merciful Providence has justified my prevision.” -</p> - -<p> -“But did you guess they had the river-bed filled with troops, Sir -Harry?” asked Eveleen eagerly. “Sure you said——” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Harry looked at her with humorous apology. “I did, ma’am—but I -knew what I must find unless the Arabit commander were a consummate -fool. He ain’t that, as his posting the ambush in the wood on our -right showed, but inexperience—or contempt of his foe”—a laugh went -round—“lost him the results he ought to have gained. That opening in -the wall should have been masked, and some sort of platform devised -from which to fire. As it was, the breach served me as a warning that -troops were in the wood ready to attack us in flank, and when I looked -inside and saw that by no possibility could they line the wall with -matchlockmen and mow us down, I had but to send the heroic Crosse and -his company to stop that hole as a cork stops a bottle, and the ambush -was rendered nugatory—though my brave Leonidas perished in holding -the gap. Yes”—as Eveleen started,—“poor Crosse has fallen, with half -his men. We could send them no assistance once we ourselves were -engaged, even had we had any to send. Only by breaching the wall with -cannon when we reached the bank were we able to relieve the -hard-pressed remnant.” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor Crosse saved the army, General,” said Richard gruffly. -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed you are right. The troops we had in Spain would have gone over -the bank and through the enemy up t’other side. But these young -soldiers—seeing a riverful of such ugly customers, jumping up at ’em -with nasty shining swords like so many Jack-in-the-boxes—they were -astonished, they hesitated. Had a flank attack come at the same -moment, they must have broke. But as it was, they only needed -rallying.” -</p> - -<p> -“‘Only,’ General!” said Captain Stewart. “A good many times over.” -</p> - -<p> -“True, but what other troops would have responded as they did? But it -should not have been necessary. Upon my soul, gentlemen”—forgetting -prudence in his warmth—“if Crosse saved the army, Welborne came -within an ace of destroying it. That charge was due an hour before.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, we were listening for it—Mr Kenton and I!” cried Eveleen. “‘Why -won’t they charge?’ says he, over and over again, and at last it came. -But why not before, Sir Harry?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because Welborne ‘thought it right to wait for definite orders——’” -the General mimicked the intonation ferociously. “I posted him there -with orders to charge the village at all costs if he saw me hard -pressed—and he couldn’t see; he must wait to be told. That gallant -fellow Keeling was straining at the leash, sending insulting messages -to Welborne to try and move him—at last preparing to charge the place -with the Khemistan Horse alone, which must have meant their -annihilation, when happily the orders arrived which I had snatched a -moment in the thickest press of the battle to send, wondering what in -the world had taken the cavalry. And then they did go! Straight at the -village, contemptuous of the bullets that rained upon ’em, over the -nullahs, heedless of emptied saddles, through the guns, sabring the -gunners, then through the camp of the Khans, driving its occupants -before ’em in headlong flight! Then at last our stubborn antagonists -in the watercourse, seeing their rear menaced, gave ground slowly and -sullenly, yielding to us reluctantly the blood-stained trench for -which we had so long contended. Mrs Ambrose—gentlemen—I give you my -word that when I stood in my stirrups and shouted, ‘The enemy are -beaten! God save the Queen!’ and my glorious soldiers answered me with -three feeble but indomitable cheers, I would not have changed -places—Heaven forgive me!—with the Duke after Waterloo!” -</p> - -<p> -No comparison on earth could have meant more to Sir Harry, and his -voice trembled as though he feared sacrilege in venturing upon it, but -the little company round the table rose up with one accord and cheered -him again. The men were too much moved to speak, but Eveleen was never -at a loss for words, even while she dashed her tears away with a wet -handkerchief. -</p> - -<p> -“And why would you, Sir Harry? Sure the odds were smaller against us -at Waterloo than to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear lady, never say such a thing again. At Waterloo the Duke -confronted the greatest commander the world has ever known—and the -world itself was the prize. Here I was faced only by an unlettered -barbarian, knowing nothing of the lessons of military history, nor -skilful enough even to take advantage of an inexperienced adversary -commanding young troops. But after to-day I am no longer -inexperienced. Last night I wondered whether I could conduct a battle; -now I know I can. And my troops are not young soldiers any longer. Now -that they have seen the proud Arabit—not in flight, but stalking -unwillingly away, with frequent backward looks of hatred and -contempt—they may respect him, but they will fear him no longer. -Never again will they be checked by such a surprise as that of -to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure there’ll be no more fighting?” she asked in dismay. “Not -after a battle like this?” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you say, Ambrose? Have we seen the last of ’em yet?” -</p> - -<p> -“I fear not, General. There are too many left.” -</p> - -<p> -“My notion precisely. D’ye see, ma’am, a lot of these fellows must -have run away just because they saw others running—not because we -beat ’em, for there weren’t enough of us to do it. Moreover, I have -reason to believe they had not succeeded in bringing up all their -forces. Kamal-ud-din, in particular, I am assured was not present.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the prisoners would maybe be telling you that just to make the -victory less, Sir Harry.” -</p> - -<p> -“There ain’t any prisoners. No quarter was given—it was impossible. -The wounded Arabit, writhing on the ground, would cut at the legs of -the soldier trying to avoid trampling on him. I myself sought in vain -to save a brave fellow from the bayonet of one of our men. He -disdained my offer, and fought grimly to the end. ‘It’s butcher’s work -to-day, and nothing else, General,’ says the victor to me as he -withdrew his weapon. No, I have learnt nothing from the foe. My -informants are my own spies, who tell me that Kamal-ud-din, with his -ten thousand followers, had not come up. More and more do I rejoice -that I took the risk presented to me. I own I was tempted to hold off -for a while this morning, and let my artillery play upon the enemy’s -position before attempting the attack. What would have been the -result? Time, on which, unknown to me, all depended, would have been -lost. If the Khans had not taken courage to endeavour to outflank me, -Kamal-ud-din must have caught me in the rear. At least he will think -twice before doing so now. They know this cock can fight.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but tell me,” cried Eveleen, rather maladroitly—it was the -suggestion of loss of time that had been the connecting link in her -mind, “what has happened Colonel Bayard? Did you meet him at all?” -</p> - -<p> -“He has not come in yet, but he had some distance to march. I wished -over and over again I had his two hundred sepoys, and especially the -European officers, with me, but he can quite well claim that the smoke -he raised alarmed the enemy, and prevented their making off in that -direction.” Sir Henry spoke in measured tones, but in the minds of all -present was the thought of Colonel Bayard’s unceasing efforts to bring -about further delay, and the disaster they might have caused. The -General spoke again in his ordinary voice. -</p> - -<p> -“But without information from Bayard, or even my spies, I can see with -my own eyes that the enemy are by no means vanished away. There are -large bodies of ’em hanging about still in a highly suspicious -manner—ready, no doubt, to fall on our flanks should we attempt a -night march, or to harass us in any other respect. But they will find -no opportunity. I can’t order the cavalry to disperse ’em, for I have -not enough, and those I have are worn out with to-day’s exertions, and -I have work for ’em to-morrow; but if they venture to attack us, I -think they’ll have a hard nut to crack. Tell me, ma’am, do you remark -any peculiar feature about this camp?” -</p> - -<p> -“Only that it seems smaller—more compact; and there are fewer natives -about—more soldiers,” said Eveleen hesitatingly. Sir Harry laughed -triumphantly. -</p> - -<p> -“Aha, Ambrose! your good lady has a sharp eye. Yes, ma’am; from this -night’s bivouac the camp-followers are excluded. Their numbers and -their lack of discipline would embarrass any force—have ruined many, -in Ethiopia and elsewhere. The moment an attack is delivered the -terror-stricken multitude, with cries of panic, seek the opportunity -to escape, urging before them their animals, often their sole -possession. The disorderly mass, rushing upon the troops, bursts -through the ranks, and leaves an opening of which the enemy is waiting -to take advantage. But to-night we are formed in square, and the -camp-followers are outside at a convenient distance, while the -baggage, as you see, is in the centre. Should an alarm be raised, and -the followers run in upon the square, the soldiers are warned to fire -upon them and the enemy alike. More bloodshed—eh? Believe me, it -ain’t by any desire of mine, but I must safeguard the lives of my -troops. As I rode over the field just now, and beheld the heaps of -dead, I said to myself, ‘Am I guilty of these horrid scenes?’ but my -conscience refused to reproach me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And well it might, General!” said Brian heartily. “Is there one of us -here hasn’t heard it said over and over again, ‘The General’s the only -officer in the force that don’t wish for a fight’?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because I have seen battles before now—such as you young fellows -hardly dream of—and know their full horrors. Well, you will all -justify me, when I am dead and gone. Gentlemen, I am indebted to you -for your services to-day, and you won’t find me forgetful. To-morrow I -shall ask you, it may be, for others even more arduous. I send off a -squadron at dawn to demand the surrender of Qadirabad on pain of being -stormed, while we face about to deal with Kamal-ud-din when he comes -up—if he comes up, perhaps I should say.” -</p> - -<p> -He stood up stiffly to shake hands with each of his guests. “Good -night, ma’am; good night, good night! I wish you would take order with -this brother of yours. He goes about looking for personal combats, -which I tell him ain’t becoming in a staff officer. After having his -horse killed under him in the bed of the watercourse, what does he do -but seek out and slay one of the principal chiefs of the enemy, in the -midst of his followers? There’s a fire-eater for you—eh?” -</p> - -<p> -“Brian!” Eveleen’s tone was poignant, “d’ye tell me Cromaboo is -killed? I saw you were riding Bawn, but I thought——” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you listen to her? She’d rather her own and only brother was -killed, than his horse!” cried Brian reproachfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Come along, my dear. We are taking up the General’s time,” said -Richard, and she obeyed reluctantly. It was the kind of evening on -which it seems impossible to go to bed as if nothing had happened. -</p> - -<p> -Colonel Bayard was in camp in the morning—very well pleased with -himself in the honest conviction that his expedition had contributed -materially to the General’s success. His force, on the other hand, -were so disgusted that their comrades found it advisable not to -mention the battle to them. To spend a whole day in trying to set fire -to a forest which would not burn, and from which the enemy had -silently vanished in the night, while eight miles away a -life-and-death struggle was going forward—as the booming of the guns -showed,—this was enough to make any troops angry. A little ray of -hope had brightened their path as they approached the camp towards -midnight, for an alarm of some sort had led to heavy firing; but if it -was really due to an attack by the enemy—and not to a panic among the -excluded camp-followers, who suffered heavily when they tried to find -refuge in the square—it was quickly beaten off. The General, wrapped -in his cloak, slept through it all, and even through Colonel Bayard’s -efforts to wake him and report, but in the morning he was as fresh and -cheerful as a youngster of twenty. He had already put things in motion -for the day when he met his staff at breakfast in the shivering dawn, -and at that uncomfortable hour they found his good humour little short -of irritating. But knowing him, they understood it when they realised -the stake for which he was playing. -</p> - -<p> -“In an hour from now we should receive the reply of the Khans.” He -dropped the remark into the group round the table like a bomb. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you summoned the city already, General?” asked Colonel Bayard, -laughing. -</p> - -<p> -“I have. Keeling is gone off with a flag of truce, and the ten -best-mounted men he could pick from his regiment, so as to produce a -good impression.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what terms do you offer the Khans, if I may ask?” -</p> - -<p> -“Terms, sir?” explosively. “Their lives!” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing more?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing more.” In Sir Harry’s voice there was no response to the -dismay in Colonel Bayard’s. “And there will be no haggling, neither. -They will find me as hard as iron. Why”—he smote his hand on the -table,—“I can afford nothing else. For the sake of having Qadirabad -behind me as a strong place to protect my wounded and baggage, I have -entered on this game of brag, but had the enemy the slightest -suspicion that it was brag, our goose would be cooked. What are those -bodies of armed men doing hanging about on all sides of us—within -cannon-shot, even? The city must be mine by noon, and then I will turn -upon these Arabit stragglers, and make up Kamal-ud-din’s mind for him. -With another couple of regiments of horse, I could disperse ’em in -style; but the cavalry is knocked up by the battle and the long march -before it, and the camels couldn’t drag the guns another mile. In half -an hour the hospitals and the baggage-train will set forward gently -towards Qadirabad, guarded by the cavalry at a walk, and I trust the -enemy, not knowing our plight, will take the movement as evidence of -my relentless determination. You’ll go with ’em, ma’am”—suddenly to -Eveleen, who was listening eagerly,—“but you won’t be rid of us long. -We have—er—a bit of tidying up to do here, and then the rest of the -force will follow.” -</p> - -<p> -“And occupy the Fort to-night, Sir Harry?” -</p> - -<p> -“H’m—hardly, I think. We shall see.” -</p> - -<p> -“I presume you will listen to nothing from me, General,” broke in -Colonel Bayard anxiously; “but I can’t reconcile it with my conscience -not to tell you that this is madness. The city is packed with Arabits -armed to the teeth, devoted adherents of the Khans, on whose ruin you -are determined. You propose to drive them to desperation——” -</p> - -<p> -“Not listen to you!” exploded Sir Harry. “Pray, sir, how long is it -since I listened to your repeated assurances that there were no armed -men in the city save the personal servants of the Khans? You are -singing to a different tune now. I have listened to you till you have -nearly succeeded in making an end of us all. If my intention be -madness, it is the calculated madness that stakes all upon a single -throw, and wins. The Khans shall have no further consideration—I owe -them none. My sole aim is the safety of my troops.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see—I know,” sadly. “You must pardon my warmth, Sir Henry. The -Khans have been the principal object of my consideration for so -long—it is painful to me, you may guess, to see them overthrown. Be -sure, sir, I shall venture no further criticism.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, man! I shall invite your remarks, and you will give them, -dozens of times in the next day or so, I make no doubt. But in this -matter my mind is made up.” -</p> - -<p> -“And glad I am to hear it!” murmured Eveleen under her breath, meeting -a return glance of sympathy even from the well-trained eye of Richard. -Lovable as was Colonel Bayard’s chivalrous forbearance towards the -Khans, there were very few Europeans in Khemistan to whom it had not -by this time become decidedly exasperating, and she left the -breakfast-table in quite a happy frame of mind to pack up her few -possessions. Her place in the line of march was duly appointed -her—ahead of the hospital doolies, which again were followed by the -baggage-animals, so as to escape the dust these kicked up,—and she -exchanged a cheerful salutation with young Kenton as she passed him. -Guarded by the cavalry ahead and on either flank, the column moved -off—towards the long fortress on the hill, whose massive tower loomed -above the intervening jungle-clad flats, and dominated the town on the -slopes beneath it. Keen-eyed watchers on its ramparts might even have -been able to trace the course of yesterday’s battle—be able now to -discern what they read as the victor’s advance. The slow pace at which -the cavalry moved, owing to the fatigue of their horses, must have -seemed to the Khans and their followers the relentless deliberation of -fate, for the Vakils who were on their way from the city with Captain -Keeling and his flag of truce besought Sir Harry with anguish as soon -as they beheld him to stop the march until he himself was present to -control his troops. He sent a messenger after the convoy at once, and -a halt was called, to the joy of both man and beast. The General’s -colloquy with the Vakils was brief and businesslike, carrying -conviction to their hearts, which could not conceive it possible that -such demands could come from the commander of a weak tired force, -already frightfully reduced from its original strength. To them the -bent little man who emerged growling from the dirty tent hardly large -enough to shelter him was the irresistible disposer of many legions, -and when he had once cut short their elaborate compliments and -lamentable pleading, they offered no protest against his hard terms. -They would carry them back to their Highnesses, they said, and return. -</p> - -<p> -“By noon, then!” snapped Sir Harry, with appalling ferocity. -“Otherwise—— Well, I shall have buried my dead by that time, and my -soldiers will have had their breakfast. Qadirabad would make a fine -supper for them!” -</p> - -<p> -The deputation shuddered and withdrew—noting, to their horror, that -the tents which had sheltered the European part of the army during the -night were already being struck, and that the advanced-guard which had -been halted at their request resumed its march as soon as they had -passed it. It was abundantly clear that Sir Henry would be as good as -his word, for by noon his approaching troops were easily visible from -the gate of the Fort. Panic-stricken, the Vakils issued forth again, -bearing the entreaty of their panic-stricken masters that the Bahadar -Jang would deign to stay his victorious course. The Khans would -surrender, they were on the point of doing so; their palanquins were -actually being prepared. -</p> - -<p> -“Before the gate, then,” said Sir Harry grimly. “They will find me -waiting for them,” and he halted his troops and bade them stand to -arms beneath the wall of the Fort. The soldiers grumbled horribly at -being cheated of their noonday rest, but not a man would willingly -have been absent when the procession of scarlet palanquins was seen -approaching, escorted by the usual gorgeous retinue mounted on gaily -caparisoned horses and camels. The little army which had yesterday -overthrown more than twenty times its own number formed square to -receive them, Sir Harry on his black Arab in the midst, with Colonel -Bayard beside him, and the staff behind. All were in field dress, worn -and soiled, for their scanty baggage allowed no finery, and the -General, spectacles on nose as usual, wore his shabby blue uniform and -the curious helmet tilted well over his eyes. To Eveleen, watching -from the background, the sense of drama was almost painfully present -as the six Khans, emerging one by one from their palanquins, made -their way humbly on foot to the conqueror, and proffered him their -jewelled swords, which he bade them retain. Gul Ali was almost maudlin -in his self-abasement, but Khair Husain evidently intended to carry -things with a high hand. He demanded jovially of Colonel Bayard where -he had been the day before, since he had hunted for him all over the -battlefield that he might be able to surrender to a friend, and he -offered the General something else besides his sword. What it was -Eveleen could not see, but she fancied the man’s eyes looked past Sir -Harry and rested on her. An angry refusal snapped out, and Khair -Husain passed on with a deprecatory gesture. Young Hafiz Ullah was set -at liberty, as a compliment to Colonel Bayard, to whose care he had -been committed by his father on his deathbed, but the rest of the -Khans were handed over to Brian for safe keeping—the scene of which -was to be their own beautiful garden-palace near the Agency, easily -guarded, and remote from the chance of a rescue. With slow dragging -steps the fallen Princes returned to their palanquins, and with their -servants, were carried away under a strong guard, Captain Stewart -riding up to the city with an escort to take over the principal -gateway as the General’s representative. Sir Harry drew a long breath -as he and Colonel Bayard turned their horses away again. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, this is the sort of thing makes a man feel he hasn’t lived in -vain! Fine showy things those swords—eh? I hadn’t the heart to -deprive the poor beggars of ’em, though they would have made a nice -heirloom to hand down in a private gentleman’s family. And now to make -things lively for our backward friend Kamal-ud-din!” -</p> - -<p> -“General!”—Colonel Bayard’s voice was hoarse with emotion—“I have -said nothing, raised no protest—I vowed I would make no further -effort—but after all this—— Ain’t you yet content?” -</p> - -<p> -“Content?” Sir Harry stared at him. “What is there to be content -about? After this next battle, perhaps——” -</p> - -<p> -“Another battle! more bloodshed! Don’t those awful heaps satisfy you -which I passed in the moonlight last night? Are you determined to -destroy this unhappy nation if it fails to destroy you?” -</p> - -<p> -“It has destroyed nineteen of my officers and two hundred and -fifty-six men of my small force already. Merciful Heaven! do you think -me a stone? Shall I ever forget that long row this morning of the -corpses of my noblest friends, grim with dust and blood, laid side by -side until the sand should shroud them from my sight? Are you accusing -me of taking pleasure in bloodshed, Colonel Bayard?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, not that—— Yet what can I think when I see you passing from -one horror to another? Your bravery, your capacity, none can now -dispute—if any one was ever fool enough to doubt it. Would that your -sword had been drawn in a nobler cause! but you have chosen the -shortest way, and it ain’t for me to remonstrate further. But shed no -more blood, I entreat you; make your name as famous for mercy as it -will always be for conquest.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is it you are trying to get me to do?” Sir Harry turned and -looked at him suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -“Kamal-ud-din—I know him well; he is young and easily moved. At -present he is undecided whether to provoke a battle or not, because he -believes you incensed against him. Let me go to him——” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not. Too valuable a hostage.” -</p> - -<p> -“Let me write, then. I will choose a messenger from the retainers of -his uncles, who will inform him of their submission, and urge him to -come in and surrender. With him in your hands, there is no leader left -about whom the remnants of the Khans’ armies may rally, and you attain -at once all the results of a battle without fighting one.” -</p> - -<p> -“Be it so, then. Heaven knows the army is in no state to fight again -to-day, and I should be crippled in any movement by this train of -wounded.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch17"> -CHAPTER XVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">SUPPORTED ON BAYONETS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">A grand</span> joke for y’, Evie!” Brian ran up the steps gleefully, -forgetful for the moment of the anxious charge which—so his friends -alleged—was sapping the bloom from his youthful cheek, and turning -his hair prematurely grey. It was three days after the battle at -Mahighar, the camp had been pitched in and about the Agency compound, -and in the ruined Residency itself the Engineers had patched up two or -three rooms and a verandah for Eveleen, that she might not have to -face the vicissitudes of the weather in a tent. -</p> - -<p> -“And I have one for you!” responded Eveleen joyously. “Yours -first—you’ll appreciate mine all the better for waiting for it. Don’t -mind Ambrose; he’s far too busy to notice our nonsense.” She turned -slightly towards Brian, and with a wicked glance, laid one forefinger -over the other close to her eye. Richard was reading ostentatiously at -some little distance—but it was no more novel or interesting work -than an old Addiscombe text-book, somehow washed up on this distant -beach. -</p> - -<p> -“Listen, then. D’ye know y’are the General’s guardian angel, his -talisman of success—that he won’t fight until y’are there, and if he -lost you he’d be a gone coon? What d’ye think of that now? It’s proud -y’ought to be, indeed.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d be prouder if I thought he took a proper view of my importance to -him,” dolefully. “I’ll impart to y’a horrid secret, Brian. Sometimes I -could almost believe the ungrateful old gentleman regarded me as an -encumbrance!” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s his artfulness. He don’t want you to realise your value. Why, -when Khair Husain Khan, wishing to show suitable respect, desired to -send y’a fine present of jewels t’other day, d’ye think the old lad -would let you have it? Not he! Gave him a nasty snub, I promise you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, that was it!” Eveleen’s eyes danced. “I saw the creature -look at me, but how would I know what he was saying? Sure Sir Harry -might have had the politeness to offer me the choice whether I’d -accept or not.” -</p> - -<p> -She glanced very slightly towards Richard, and Richard flung away his -book, remarked “Psh!” very loudly, and rose and stalked towards his -wife and her brother. -</p> - -<p> -“Always glad to see you, Delany,” he remarked, with forced geniality, -“but I should be uncommonly obliged if you would help me in putting a -stop to this nonsense. You can’t think it’s particularly gratifying -for a man to know that such tales are going about the bazar with -respect to his wife.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure no one that matters regards ’em as anything but a joke!” -said Brian in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but Ambrose can never see a joke, don’t you know?” said Eveleen -plaintively. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps not, but I can see defiance when I am treated to it——” -Richard was not apt at epigram, and his return was deplorably lame. He -went on to seek sympathy from Brian, who did not look encouraging: he -disliked matrimonial differences which went deeper than mere surface -squabbling. “I desired your sister particularly not to show herself at -to-day’s ceremony, yet where should I find her but on horseback within -the square, close to the General—thus giving confirmation to all -these foolish reports?” -</p> - -<p> -“As if I’d have let anything or anybody in the whole wide world keep -me away!” Eveleen broke in indignantly. “To see the colours go up on -the round tower, and the guns firing, and the soldiers cheering and -cheering as if they would never stop—would anything make me miss such -a sight, I ask you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not my wishes, evidently. You have no regard for them.” -</p> - -<p> -“And why would I, when you gave me no slightest, tiniest hint of a -reason? Was there any, will you tell me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I had a reason, certainly, but I didn’t want to alarm you. Perhaps I -was foolish to be so careful.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you never learn that when anything is really, truly interesting, -there ain’t the smallest possibility of its being alarming? Don’t -y’agree with me, Brian?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, I don’t entirely.” Brian was perhaps not sorry to give a -helping hand to a brother-man. “It might be you’d do well to be -alarmed in this case, Evie—I don’t know. It’s a bit of a mystery to -me. By what I make out from my Khans yonder—who can be precious -affable when they like—it has something to do with some piece of -jewellery of yours that you gave away or sold. The thing has got into -Kamal-ud-din’s hands—whatever it is—and he has it to thank that he -ain’t a prisoner like his uncles and cousins.” For with callous -disregard of Colonel Bayard’s assurances on his behalf, Kamal-ud-din -had first promised effusively to come in and surrender on the -following morning, and then employed the interval in removing himself -and his forces into the desert, <i>en route</i> for his remote ancestral -fortress of Umarganj. Possibly the messenger who conveyed the letter -had conveyed also information as to the state of the British troops; -at any rate, Kamal-ud-din was fully justified in his belief that -pursuit was out of the question. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen pointed a dramatic finger at her husband. “Put the blame where -it ought to be, Brian. There’s the culprit for you. ’Twas that blue -pendant Uncle Tom gave me, that I showed y’at Bombay—the seal that -wouldn’t seal, don’t you know? Well, Ambrose found the Khans set a -value on it, believing ’twas the seal of King Solomon, and had been -stolen from them years and years ago, so he very kindly made them a -present of it, without so much as asking my leave.” -</p> - -<p> -“I remember it—a sort of blue cheese-plate. But it’s you are joking -now, Evie. D’ye ask me to believe he took your pendant and gave it -away without your knowing?” -</p> - -<p> -Richard growled inarticulately, and Eveleen felt obliged to furnish -the explanation he disdained to supply. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, not that exactly. I had pledged it, or pawned it—whatever you -like to call it—to get you that money you wanted, when you were -afraid you’d miss the chance of getting into the General’s family, -don’t you know? and Ambrose was shockingly cross with me about it. So -I suppose he thought he’d punish me, but ’twas he gave it to -Kamal-ud-din, you see.” -</p> - -<p> -“Holy Moses! I come into this too, do I?” groaned Brian. “Don’t betray -me to my old lad, either of you, or I <i>will</i> get a wigging. For you -see, Evie, we have spoilt his luck between us. The stone and you go -together somehow—it’s blue, and your eyes are blue; green, rather, -I’d say if I was asked—so Khair Husain told me, and when y’are -separated, the luck’s split. At present we have the lady, and -Kamal-ud-din has the pendant—the Belle and the Bauble, to make a -pantomime title out of it. If the General had had the Bauble as well -as the Belle, he’d have swept up Kamal-ud-din with the rest of the -Khans, and conquered the country at one go. If Kamal-ud-din had had -the Belle as well as the Bauble, the Khans would have won t’other day, -and cut all our throats on the field of battle, and led the General in -triumph by a gold chain through his nose. Well, there y’are, you see. -Don’t it strike you as a bit of a temptation to the Arabits to bring -the Belle and the Bauble together again by carrying off the lady?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d like to see them try it!” declared Eveleen defiantly. “I sent a -message to Kamal-ud-din by poor Tom Carthew when he had the stone -first that I was ill-wishing it with all my might, but that’s -<i>nothing</i> to what I’d do if they tried to get hold of me. -Besides”—with one of the sudden changes of mood her husband found so -bewildering—“it’s just a notion I have that Ambrose wouldn’t be so -ready to part with <i>me</i>, though he thinks he can make free as he likes -with my things.” -</p> - -<p> -It was absolutely impossible for Richard to rearrange his thoughts -quickly enough to respond adequately to this overture of peace and the -glance that accompanied it, but he managed to call up some sort of -smile, and to mutter, “Oh no—rayther not, I’m sure!” Brian, scenting -a reconciliation, made haste to clinch the matter. -</p> - -<p> -“And don’t you be so nasty about that old pendant, Evie. I’m quite -certain Ambrose would have given you something instead, if y’had asked -him nicely.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but Ambrose don’t agree with giving his wife presents when she -can’t keep accounts and wastes his money for him,” said Eveleen -wickedly. “There! would you believe it, I was forgetting my joke that -I had for you! What d’ye think of that, now?” she brought out of her -pocket a handkerchief tied up in knots, and unfastening them, let a -small torrent of gems tumble out upon the cane lounge where she was -sitting. Richard’s face darkened again angrily. -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose, where did you get those?” -</p> - -<p> -“Looks as though somebody had been making you a present, if Ambrose -won’t,” said Brian lightly, with the amiable intention of averting -another dispute. “Or have you been making a little private expedition -of your own after loot? In the Fort to-day—oh, fie, Mrs Ambrose, fie! -Won’t I set the Provost Marshal and the Prize Agents on you!” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was bathing her hands in the jewels, without troubling to -answer either man’s question. “Such a pity they spoil their stones so -cruelly,” she said. “I wonder why will they always pierce them and -they never seem to cut them so as to bring out the full beauty. And -flaws, now—you’d think they didn’t even notice them, as if they only -cared for a stone to be as large as possible.” -</p> - -<p> -Richard’s hand gripped her shoulder—not gently. “You acknowledge -these are native stones, then—from the treasury, I suppose? How did -you get them?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you hurt me so, I’ll cry. I know I’ll have a horrid bruise for -weeks. Y’are so rough, Ambrose!” -</p> - -<p> -“Get on with y’, Evie,” said Brian curtly. “How did you get hold of -these things?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, I found them!” Eveleen looked defiantly from one to the -other, resenting their tone. -</p> - -<p> -“You found them? Where, pray?” -</p> - -<p> -“On my dressing-table—wrapped up in an old dirty bit of silk -embroidery. I nearly called Ketty to pick it up with a stick and throw -it away, it looked so horrid. Then I saw something sticking out, and -’twas this emerald.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did your ayah know anything of the parcel?” -</p> - -<p> -“She swore she did not, and I wouldn’t think she’d tell me a direct -lie.” -</p> - -<p> -“May have been bribed to turn her back for a moment,” suggested Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“More likely her attention was attracted by something going on -outside,” said Eveleen promptly. “Her bump of curiosity’s enormous, -don’t you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you make of this, Delany?” asked Richard hoarsely. “Is it -some such plot on Kamal-ud-din’s part as you hinted at just now?” -</p> - -<p> -“To reunite the Belle and the Bauble, d’ye mean? I wouldn’t think -that—unless they’d imagine my sister was to be cot like a bird by -spreading a trail of crumbs in front of her. No, if y’ask me, I’d say -’twas some bright scheme on the part of those Khans of mine, that have -the heart worried out of me with their crooked ways. Every man of ’em -is laden with stones like these. I know because they’re so anxious to -make me presents of ’em. But now they know if I accept anything ’twill -only go to the Prize Agents, they’re knocking off a bit. Possibly, now -they have proved my Roman virtue, they are trying elsewhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what’s the notion?” -</p> - -<p> -“I ask y’, indeed! Just for a sort of propitiation, maybe, to the man -in charge of ’em. But then again, they may have some plan in hand, and -’twould help ’em if I went about with my eyes shut. Or it may be they -want a good word said for ’em to the General. You know these fellows. -Can any of us say what’s in their minds?” -</p> - -<p> -“You think they are plotting to escape?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know, I tell you. The way they keep my mind on the stretch, -wondering what are they after now, you’d pity me if you knew! They -can’t want more indulgences or luxuries, for they’ve got ’em all. It -makes me angry to go from the General in his wretched little <i>rowty</i>, -that barely keeps the sun off his old head, to those chaps with their -great cool rooms and fountains and green stuff. It can’t be more -servants they want, for they couldn’t get ’em in. The place is packed -with big strapping fellows, that go backwards and forwards to the -Fort, and can carry news, or treasure, or anything they like but -arms—and I wouldn’t put it past ’em to smuggle them too now and then. -At least, there’ll be no more treasure to be had now, for the Prize -Agents have taken it over—three million pounds they talk about.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you’d grudge your poor sister one little handful of spoilt -stones!” said Eveleen tragically. -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely. Hand ’em over, Evie, and I’ll leave the lot with the Prize -Agents as I go back. Whatever they were put in your room for, ’twas -for no good, and you know that as well as I do.” -</p> - -<p> -“He won’t leave me so much as one little weeshy diamond! Ah, it’s a -cruel brother I have, and a cruel husband too! I wonder have they any -hearts at all, at all?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a brother and a husband miles too good for you y’have,” said -Brian, tying up the stones inexorably in his handkerchief. “See here, -Ambrose, I’ll be getting you a receipt for these, in case there’d be -any question of a trap.” -</p> - -<p> -“You have a head on your shoulders,” said Richard heartily. “The -Sahib’s horse!” he called to a servant. -</p> - -<p> -Presently he came back from the steps to find Eveleen pouting in her -corner of the lounge. “Sure you might have let <i>me</i> send them to the -Prize Agent,” was her complaint. “What bit of a chance have I of doing -the right things, when two great men seize them out of my hands and do -them instead?” -</p> - -<p> -“You see,” with a grave face, “you are so sadly destitute of jewellery -that they might have been a temptation.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah now, aren’t y’ashamed to turn my own words against me like that? -D’ye not know a good horse is more to me than a diamond necklace any -day?” -</p> - -<p> -“But not more than this sort of thing, I hope, or I shall feel I have -gone wrong again.” He dropped a little parcel into her lap, and stood -watching while she snatched it up in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -“And what’s this, now? Have you been wasting your money on me, -Ambrose? I’m surprised at you!” -</p> - -<p> -Happily the possible double meaning of her last sentence did not occur -to her as she eagerly opened the case, and displayed a gold locket set -with pearls—large and massive, eminently what was then called “a -handsome piece of jewellery.” “And did you really choose this for me?” -</p> - -<p> -“Bayard chose it in Bombay—I asked him. He brought it up with him, -and forgot all about it till he was packing again yesterday. Ain’t you -going to look inside?” -</p> - -<p> -She opened it joyfully, never doubting what she was about to see, and -uttered a little sound of dismay. It was Brian’s cheerful eyes that -smiled quizzically at her, their expression curiously natural, though -the rest of the miniature showed the mannered stiffness of the native -artist. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you like it?” asked Richard anxiously. “I got it done here to send -down after Bayard to take with him and have it put in the locket. I -was afraid you would miss that calotype of your brother when I took it -to the painter, but it was only two or three days in the bustle of -packing up, and you happened not to think of it.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was hardly listening to him. She lifted her eyes tragically -from the locket in her lap. “And why not yours?” she demanded. -</p> - -<p> -“Mine? Why, I was sure you would rather have your brother’s,” he -replied, in all innocence. -</p> - -<p> -“Major Ambrose, there are times when I’d like—I’d like—— I won’t -tell you what I’d like to do to you, but ’twould not be pleasant.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you ain’t pleased?” incredulously. -</p> - -<p> -“Why in the world would you put <i>Brian</i> into it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it was bought with that first money he paid back, you remember, -and it seemed suitable——” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen laughed drearily. “D’ye tell me that, now? Well then, with the -last money he pays back will you let him get me a locket and put you -into it? Then I’ll wear you both at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“By all means, if you wish it. But I don’t quite——” -</p> - -<p> -“You would not. I’d have y’understand, Ambrose, that you never will -see to your dying day! Ah, then, it’s a cross wife you have, isn’t it? -Why don’t you give me a box on the ear?” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -To any one but Sir Harry Lennox, his position at this time would have -inevitably recalled that of the original Austrian who caught the -Tartar. With his little force hanging on gallantly to the river front -of Qadirabad, he was powerless to exercise any control on the land -side, and it did not need much shrewdness to guess that the Arabits -defeated at Mahighar were slipping out of the city in a continuous -stream to join Kamal-ud-din and strike a return blow under his -leadership. But it might have been more dangerous to keep them than to -let them go, and the General remained untroubled by their defection. -His concern at the moment was with bricks and mortar—or rather, in -this locality, earth and mud. In the course of ten strenuous days, the -ramshackle old Fort was put into such a state of repair as it had not -known since it was first built; an entrenched camp was constructed -about the battered Residency, and a small fortification erected on the -other side of the river, where the steamers lay, to protect them and -the precious stores they carried. But no one knew better than Sir -Harry how very inadequate was his force even to guard what he -held—much more to take the field again; and he had not only ordered -reinforcements up from Bab-us-Sahel and down from Sahar, but had put -his pride in his pocket so far as to ask the Governor-General for the -regiments from British India which he had refused earlier. Pending the -arrival of relief, he sat tight, presenting a spectacle of prudent -inactivity which was as surprising as it was trying to his officers, -who knew that Kamal-ud-din’s hopes must be rising with every messenger -that reached him from Qadirabad. What could be more obvious than that -the Bahadar Jang was distracted by the necessity of holding so much -ground with such small numbers, that he durst not show his nose -outside his fortifications, and that an attack in force on any portion -of them must oblige him either to concentrate his entire strength in -its defence and abandon the rest, or to hold the whole so weakly that -it would fall an easy prey? Gloomy reports went round, leading to -gloomier prognostications. The right bank of the river was wholly -hostile. In the north the wild tribes were coming down from their -hills, like vultures lured by the hope of being in at the death of the -old lion. Down in the delta the wild tribes of the plains were waxing -bold—interfering with the <i>dâks</i>, raiding the outlying houses of -Bab-us-Sahel. The river itself might be considered safe wherever there -was water for the steamers, but beyond the range of their guns -Kamal-ud-din could do whatever he liked even on the left bank. He -would know of the reinforcements marching from Sahar—of course he -would swoop upon them from his desert eyrie and annihilate them by -sheer weight of numbers. -</p> - -<p> -“’Deed and y’are kindly welcome, as old Biddy used to say!” Eveleen -greeted her brother one afternoon. “Mr Ferrers and Sir Dugald Haigh -have been calling, and made me miserable entirely. Sir Dugald never -says anything, but he sits and looks so solemn you’d be certain things -were at their very worst. And Ferrers said any amount—that the -General had lost his opportunity once for all when he let Kamal-ud-din -escape and planted himself down here. But if only he was given the -chance, says he, he’d engage to beat up Kamal-ud-din’s headquarters -and bring him back prisoner, and so end the war at one blow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lieutenant Ferrers is a very great officer,” said Brian sardonically, -“and if ’twas only his own life, and not the lives of other men and -horses, would pay the price, I’d like well to see him sent out on just -that easy bit of business. But we must hope to get rid of him cheaper -than that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure you may be as sarcastic as you please, but that don’t give me an -answer to hurl at the man. Here I am, knowing nothing but what he and -the rest say, and Ambrose looking virtuous and shocked when I ask him -will he tell me anything, and talking about matters of duty and -official secrets. Why, I believe the common soldiers know more of the -General’s plans than I do! Often I see a knot of them, and in the -middle his old helmet and Black Prince tossing his lovely little head, -and it don’t need to be a prophet to know they’re asking him all sorts -of questions, and he answering them as if he liked it.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you never asked a question in your life, and the old lad wouldn’t -like it if you did!” -</p> - -<p> -“That he would not—or at any rate, I’m on my best behaviour, and -trying not to tease him. Besides, wouldn’t I seem to be reflecting on -the state of his mind if I asked him did ever any General before lay -out a beautiful camp, and then move all his soldiers out of it into -the desert, and only leave the hospitals and the baggage and -headquarters and the prisoners and Ambrose and me inside?” -</p> - -<p> -“You can’t say you have no neighbours!” laughed Brian. “But see here, -Evie, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t know what he’s after. Now -then, let me think how can I wrap up the truth in an Oriental -apologue, so that any unauthorised listeners may be puzzled to find -it? Listen, now; will you think y’are an old lady, poor and proud, -like our cousin Gracia, living out Donnybrook way on her little bit of -an annuity?” Eveleen looked mystified, but nodded. “Well, then, she -has prosperous relatives living in Merrion Square—Counsellor Sullivan -and his lady,—and she likes greatly to keep up the family feeling. -But she has no money for coach-hire, and how would she walk all that -way, even if she wasn’t terrified her little house would be robbed -while she was gone? Will you tell me what she’d do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d say she’d ask them would they come and see her,” entering into -the spirit of the fable. -</p> - -<p> -“Just so. And you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d put forward what -attractions she could offer—to make it clear the favour was on her -side, and the Counsellor and his lady would be well repaid for their -long drive? The roses in her little bit of a garden would be at their -best, and she could give ’em such eggs as they’d never buy in Dublin, -and fresh cream from the farm over the way. Can’t you see the old lady -in her old worn satin gown and her cap with the smuggled lace, and how -she be worrying the girl she has, the way she wouldn’t know what she’d -be doing? ‘I’d have you recollect, Rose Ann, there’s nothing so -wonderful about Merrion Square. In my young days, ’twas company from -the Cass’le, no less, we’d be entertaining—the Lord and Lady -Lieutenant, and the grand ones they’d bring with ’em. Not that I have -anything to say against my cousin the Counsellor—I have the highest -respect for him and Mrs Sullivan,—but go out of my way to make any -difference for them is a thing I’d never do. They must take us as we -are, and just put up with what we are accustomed to,’ and she looks so -majestically at the girl she’d never dare remember all the polishing -up of the old silver, and the eggs and cream ordered, and the saffron -cakes bought at the shop. D’ye see then how old Gracia, because she -can’t get to Merrion Square herself, will make the Sullivans come out -to Donnybrook, and bear the fatigue and expense—such as it is? and -how she’ll make her preparations to entertain ’em in good time, while -pretending she’s doing nothing of the kind? and how she’ll cry ’em -down as very good sort of people and praise ’em up because they are -relatives of hers, all in the same breath?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do, I do!” cried Eveleen delightedly. “And Rose Ann understands -perfectly that though the Sullivans are no very great things, yet -she’ll bring eternal disgrace upon herself if she don’t treat them as -though they were. But your beloved charges, Brian—how will you bring -them in?” -</p> - -<p> -“My ‘interesting’ charges, as the General calls ’em?” said Brian -thoughtfully. “Well now, wouldn’t they be the jealous neighbours that -would be always on the look-out to drop hints to the Sullivans that -the creature fed every day on stirabout and potatoes, the same as Rose -Ann? and if they could make a mistake in the day, or manage to arrive -an hour too early, they’d catch her going about the house in her old -patched petticoat and print bed-gown? Then if the Sullivans were the -malicious sort of people that like to spring disagreeable surprises on -their friends—why, they’d do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“They would,” with conviction. “Ah, don’t you hope somebody of the -sort has been listening to us talking? There’s not much they could -make out of our tales of home. But I suppose I may ask you whether -your interesting charges have been more agreeable this two or three -days? It’s no secret to any one the way they behave.” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you—except to us,” said Brian, with unusual bitterness. -“The fellows are worse than ever, I tell you—so cock-a-hoop their -bearing would show they were in correspondence with Kamal-ud-din and -counting on his success if there was nothing else. Tell you what, -Evie, that fellow Bayard—I know he’s your friend and Ambrose’s, but I -can’t help saying it—the fellow’s a fool. It’s a blessing he’s left -us to ourselves in despair, but I had a letter from him to-day from -Bab-us-Sahel, begging me for his sake to leave nothing undone that -could conduce to the comfort and honour of the Khans. And already they -have so much liberty they’re a danger as well as a nuisance.” -</p> - -<p> -“He’s such a faithful friend, don’t you know? He’ll never give them -up, however bad they are.” -</p> - -<p> -“Despite their ‘fatal step of taking up arms against the British -power,’ as he says. Well, we’ll all bear witness he did his best that -the step would be fatal to us instead! You know he persuaded the -General to allow ’em have their crowds of servants going freely in and -out—spies, of course, every man of ’em. ’Twas so impossible to keep -’em in any sort of control, that after remonstrating with their -masters in vain, at last I complained to the General, and he came to -point out they had no shadow of reason for entertaining such a crew. -Give you my word there were two hundred Arabits at least in the very -tent where we sat talking to the Khans—all pressing close upon us and -looking by no means pleasant. I confess it struck me that if they -chose to fall on us we’d have a mighty poor chance. And what d’ye -think Khair Husain had the impudence to say with a straight face? ‘Our -people? But we have only a few Hindus—not enough to cook our -victuals. Not an Arabit ever enters this garden.’ Now what could be -the object of telling a silly lie like that? If y’ask me, I’d say -’twas simply impudence, and it riled the General. He said pretty -sharply, ‘I won’t kill you as you’d have killed the English, but any -further complaints, and I’ll clap y’all in irons and send y’on board -a steamer!’ I wish he’d do it, too; I ain’t cut out for a jailer. They -know now they can’t bribe me, but that’s about all, and one of our -spies tells the General they please themselves with promising to cut -me into little bits, beginning with my fingers and toes, when -Kamal-ud-din comes. They’re a sweet lot, I tell you—able for -anything. Why, when the General got up in a rage, as I said just now, -and went out, who would come catching at his coat and whining to him -for protection but old Gul Ali? The poor old beggar’s baggage was all -lost at Mahighar, and he came to prison destitute, and destitute he -remains. There he stood out in the sun, while the rest sat in their -silken tent. They won’t give him food or clothes or money to buy ’em, -and he swears they mean him to starve to death. Of course he got -protection promised him—against his own brothers and nephews,—and -the General sent him in a tent and some things. That’s what the -fellows are—with jewels dropping from ’em whenever they move!” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, those jewels! Did y’ever find out whether they put that bundle on -my dressing-table?” -</p> - -<p> -“I did. Ambrose thought I’d better nip any further attempts in the bud -by showing ’em this one had not come to anything, so one day when -Khair Husain seemed inclined to be confidential I broke the truth to -him. He was a good deal chagrined, but not a bit ashamed.” -</p> - -<p> -“But did he say what they had hoped I’d do?” -</p> - -<p> -“’Twas to secure your intercession with the General on behalf of their -zenanas, so he said. But can you believe a word they’d say?” -</p> - -<p> -“But I thought they had their zenanas with them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Their wives and mothers and aunts and daughters and sisters—every -conceivable sort of female relative—but not the slave-girls. The -place wouldn’t hold ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“And they are allowed go back to their friends? That was one of the -things made Ferrers angry. He said the General let the women stay in -the Fort for days after the surrender, and there were hundreds of -armed men there as well, and they plundered nearly all the treasure.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, what would y’have the poor old boy do? The armed men were there -to guard the zenana, and Bayard and all the old Indians were dinning -it into his ears that at the first sign of an attempt to expel ’em, -they’d cut all the women’s throats and fight their way out of the -city. They had to be got out of the Fort somehow, or there would have -been no room for a garrison; and besides, it was not safe to leave ’em -there uncontrolled. So he gave ’em three days, while he was collecting -camels and palanquins to carry the women to the other palaces outside -the city. He knew the ladies would get their fingers into the -treasury, but he thought ’twas only fair they would have something to -support themselves, as the Khans ain’t likely to be able to keep up -such an establishment in future, and what d’ye think we find now they -have walked off with? Two millions out of the three the Prize Agents -saw in the treasury the first day!” -</p> - -<p> -“No wonder the Khans are well off!” said Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, it’s not all got to them, by any manner of means. Case of finding -and keeping, I’d say. But it did sicken me to hear Bayard, when he was -starting off down the river after the hoisting of the flag on the -Fort, saying to the General, ‘Remember the Khans’ honour is bound up -in their womenfolk. Indulge their prejudices, I entreat you. Their -wives and daughters are as dear to them as yours to you.’ Half the -army believes that Bayard was bribed by the Khans, I may tell you, -because of all the delays he brought about. Of course we know that’s -great nonsense, but if I’d been the General I’d have knocked him in -the river for daring to mention those females in the same breath with -little Sally and her sister!” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch18"> -CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">PLUCK AND LUCK.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Nearly</span> a month after the battle of Mahighar part of the load was -lifted from Sir Henry’s burdened mind by the Governor-General’s -ordering the annexation of Khemistan and the deportation of the Khans -to Bombay. Lord Maryport had not yet heard of the battle, but the -shuffling of the Khans over the treaty, and the attack on the Agency, -had convinced him that further delay was useless, and his action came -in time to diminish the General’s anxieties by allowing him to get rid -of his prisoners without fulfilling his threat to put them in irons. -There was a slight difference of opinion over their departure. The -Khans declared loudly that the Governor-General’s permission to take -with them into exile their families and servants included the -thousands of women for whom it had not been possible to find room in -the garden-palace. The ladies, on the other hand, having enquired -whether it was true that slavery was abolished under British rule, -flatly refused to go, and the General declined to compel them. Eveleen -triumphed ungenerously over Richard on the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -“Didn’t I tell you the creatures were carried away to the Fort against -their wills? and you declaring they liked it, and were provided for -for life!” -</p> - -<p> -“You forget, my dear, the conditions are altered. In the old days they -would have settled down happily, and never have dreamt of leaving the -palace.” -</p> - -<p> -“As if that made it any better! If they were Arabit women ’twould be -different—they’d have a right to go where their lords went. But these -poor Hindu and Khemi girls, stolen away against their wills and shut -up in the Fort, forbidden to see even their parents again on pain of -death—would you so much as <i>wish</i> them to be happy?” -</p> - -<p> -“I fear my wishes would have precious little weight with ’em, my -dear—as sometimes happens with another lady. But ain’t you satisfied -now they are all at liberty to return to the parental roof? and I -trust they’ll enjoy the change!” -</p> - -<p> -“And why wouldn’t they? when each has got her little property to keep -her till she can make her arrangements? I’m glad Sir Harry saw to it -they wouldn’t be left destitute.” -</p> - -<p> -“That they certainly were not, but I admire your unselfishness, since -their gains have all come out of the prize-money we ought to have -had.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, y’old money-grubber!” said Eveleen affectionately. “It’s as bad -as the General y’are, when he says he don’t mind how long Kamal-ud-din -hangs off and on without attacking, because he’s spending all his -money feeding his followers, and when it’s gone they’ll forsake him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely the sort of thing the General would say to you.” -</p> - -<p> -The hint of superiority was intolerable. “And pray what does he say to -you, Major Ambrose, that y’are so high and mighty about it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Accept my apologies, my dear. I assure you I was not alluding to any -confidential information imparted to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then what were y’alluding to?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mrs Ambrose, cross-examiner! Simply to the fact which the General is -kind enough to leave out of sight when he seeks to raise your spirits, -that though a certain amount of delay on Kamal-ud-din’s part may be of -service to us in allowing our reinforcements to come up, yet too much -of it will bring into the field against us an enemy far more deadly -than any of the Khans—the hot weather.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure Sir Harry was counting up all the reasons he has for being -thankful for the delay!” -</p> - -<p> -“To reassure you, as I say. But believe me, the thought of the hot -weather harasses him day and night. What could we do here, unable to -march, with the river in flood, and the prevalence of sickness usual -at that season? He has succeeded to a marvel in alluring the enemy -from his fastnesses, whither we could not pursue him, and in keeping -him amused in the prospect of overcoming our weakness with ease as -soon as he tires of playing with us as a cat plays with a mouse. But -that ain’t success as the people of this country understand it. They -may hate Kamal-ud-din, with his horde of plundering Arabits sweeping -off their cattle, and his design of re-establishing the late tyranny -with himself as sole tyrant, but their main concern is to preserve -their own lives and as much of their property as they can. They have -hailed us as liberators, but when they see Kamal-ud-din’s rascals, -encamped only five miles from our entrenchments, driving off our -camels as they graze, while we don’t raise a finger to prevent ’em, -it’s enough to set ’em thinking whether it ain’t time to turn against -us.” -</p> - -<p> -“And if they do?” -</p> - -<p> -“Then it will be Ethiopia over again.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Ambrose, d’ye think the General don’t know that as well as -you do?” -</p> - -<p> -Richard spoke rather stiffly. “I am sure of it. Possibly I may have -wished to know whether you realised the situation.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m greatly obliged to you! Why not say at once you wanted to make my -flesh creep? You forget, sir, y’are speaking to a female that had the -honour of being present at the battle of Mahighar, when the Arabit -chivalry, springing from its lair armed to the teeth, was hurled back -in reluctant defeat by the might of British courage and endurance.” -Her husband’s lips relaxed in an unwilling smile, for she was -imitating the General in those moments when he indulged in what people -of his day called admiringly “elevated language.” The present -degenerate age would stigmatise it as “hot air” or “gas,” and ask -kindly whether the poor old man was feeling quite well. -</p> - -<p> -“Present in spirit, certainly. Yes, I had forgotten I was speaking to -such a heroine. Renewed apologies!” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah now, don’t tease! Just tell me, then, what’s the worst you -expect?” -</p> - -<p> -“The worst that might happen?” Eveleen’s eyes danced as she noticed -that he altered the wording of her question. “All the spies tell us -Kamal-ud-din’s design is to attack the Fort in such strength that the -General must leave his camp undefended in order to succour the -garrison, and thus lose the hospitals and baggage, even if he beats -off the assault.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, you won’t make me believe Sir Harry is going to walk into -that trap! Tell me something worse.” -</p> - -<p> -“If Kamal-ud-din is anything of a commander, and seriously desires to -embarrass us, he has only to fall on Rickmer marching from Sahar. The -General must endeavour to relieve him, and the farther off the action -takes place the more unprotected he must leave things here—absolutely -open to an attack from a second Arabit force. Why the Khan hasn’t -attacked Rickmer already is a thing that puzzles me. One might almost -believe he had little stomach for the fight. How is it he don’t see -he’s playing the General’s game?” -</p> - -<p> -“So there’s more method in Sir Harry’s madness than you’d allow just -now? Sure you’ve forgot which side y’are arguing on! But I hear the -horses coming round. Have you time to ride with me this evening?” -</p> - -<p> -“If I may have the honour.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, don’t be making fun of your old wife!” and Eveleen pulled -his hair as she passed him. He looked after her with resigned -amusement. She was like an indiarubber ball; nothing would crush her. -Well, at any rate no one could say she was not happy. He had done his -duty by her, in spite of those two or three embarrassing outbursts -when her loudly asserted misery had made him doubt the wisdom of his -action. For all her years, she was a child still, with a child’s -sudden and unreasoning joy and sorrow, and a child she would remain. -Now that he realised this, he knew what his own part must be—always a -satisfaction to a man of his orderly, steady-going type of mind. Yes, -that must be why he had found the path of duty easier to tread of late -than when he had first brought his wife to Khemistan—he was getting -used to it. -</p> - -<p> -As they rode down to the flats by the river, they were joined by -Brian—now released from his hated attendance on the Khans, who had -been put in charge of a senior officer for their voyage to -Bab-us-Sahel and thence to Bombay. He was bubbling over with delight. -</p> - -<p> -“This is grand!” he cried. “Come with me and we’ll follow in the -General’s footsteps. If we haunt the old boy faithfully, I’ll show you -something worth seeing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Anything new?” asked Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“Rayther! Vakils with a letter from Kamal-ud-din—what d’ye think of -that? They were fools enough to let it be known they were come to -offer us terms of surrender, and when they arrived the General was -‘not at home.’ He had started on his evening ride, but if you’ll -believe me—’twas a curious thing—he left word he’d be passing the -Headquarters Mess about sunset. So they are to meet him there, and if -we happen to find ourselves in the neighbourhood about the same -time—well, the old lad has a tasty way of staging his scenes -sometimes.” -</p> - -<p> -Such an intimation was not to be disregarded, and by a pure -coincidence the General had an audience of some size when he came -suddenly upon the waiting ambassadors, and learned their errand. -Receiving the letter at their hands, he gave it to Richard to read, -remarking that it was convenient he should happen to be there. “Aloud, -if you please,” he added. -</p> - -<p> -The messengers clustered together a little more closely, as though for -mutual support, as Richard ran his eye over the elaborate and -inevitable compliments occupying the first part of the epistle. There -was a look about them as of naughty boys—bold yet frightened—as he -reached the business part. “I am to read his Highness’s letter aloud, -sir?” he asked. “Then this is what he suggests—you are to be free to -quit Khemistan with you troops and baggage, on condition of liberating -the Khans now in captivity, and restoring the occupied territory and -towns, and all spoil of every kind.” -</p> - -<p> -A murmur of indignation rose and swelled among the European part of -the group, but the General held up his hand for silence. Into the -silence there came the heavy boom of the evening gun from the Fort. -Sir Harry laughed. “There! d’ye hear that?” he said. “That’s my -answer. Be off with it to your master!” and off the messengers went, -hardly waiting for the words to be translated into Persian. -</p> - -<p> -“Now Rickmer will have to look out for himself; or rather, we must -look out for him,” said the General. “Kamal-ud-din has had a nasty -snub, and in his naughty pride he will do his best to pay me back. -Methinks it will cool his hot blood a little if we explore towards him -to-morrow, and display an impolite curiosity as to the disposition of -his forces.” -</p> - -<p> -The “exploration”—which would now be called a reconnaissance in -force—was carried out on three successive days, the General moving -out with cavalry and guns in such warlike array that any young -commander might have been excused for expecting an immediate assault. -It was clear that Kamal-ud-din thought so, for he acted according to -his lights in calling in his stragglers and raiding parties and -waiting to be attacked. He was not attacked, but the General was able -to get a very fair idea of the strong positions he had prepared. The -secondary object of tempting him out into the open in order to -ascertain his strength was not attained, but a far more important one -was. It was three days before Kamal-ud-din realised that he had been -kept so busy and so much interested in front that Colonel Rickmer and -the Sahar column had got up behind him within two or three marches of -the General. Thereupon he decided to treat frontal demonstrations with -contempt in future, and take strong measures on his own account in his -rear. -</p> - -<p> -On the evening of the day of the third reconnaissance, the General was -giving a dinner-party. It was clear by this time that Kamal-ud-din had -perceived the real nature of the entertainment devised for his -benefit, for the spies brought word that a large body of his men had -marched into the desert in a north-easterly direction, evidently with -the intention of making a circuit and falling upon Colonel Rickmer’s -column from an unexpected quarter. It was an anxious moment for Sir -Harry—not merely on the column’s account, but on his own. Until -Colonel Rickmer arrived, he had merely the less than three thousand -men of Mahighar—their numbers now sadly diminished by casualties and -sickness, as well as by the necessity of furnishing a garrison for the -Fort and guards for the camp and for the Khans on their voyage. True, -victory was possible even with this remnant—he would have knocked any -man down for denying it,—but the prudence which was so curiously -blended with his rashness made him loath to contemplate fighting -without the help of the northern column. The other reinforcements -coming by water might almost safely be discounted, for they could not -be expected for five days or even a week. Therefore the situation was -critical in the extreme, and because the General knew it, and knew -that his army knew it, and knew that the enemy must at least guess it, -he invited his officers to dinner to celebrate one of the Duke of -Wellington’s victories in the Peninsular War. He remembered and -observed them all religiously, as he did everything connected with his -old chief, but otherwise it is to be feared that few in camp could -have told when or where the battle of Tarbes was fought. The -increasing heat of the weather had obliged Sir Harry to give up his -favourite habit of eating and doing business in the open air, and the -<i>burra khana</i> took place in a large double tent, its magnificent -lining of brocaded silk showing that it was part of the spoil taken -from the Khans. The table furniture was unchanged, however, consisting -of contributions from the Headquarters Mess and the canteens of the -staff. Above the General’s place simpered the portrait of the girl -Queen which had once hung in the reception-room in the Fort. By day it -was covered with a curtain—because, said Sir Harry, servants and -common people must not look upon the royal features—and exhibited -only as a high honour to loyal chiefs. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen, as the only lady present, was handed gallantly to the seat on -the General’s right, and the meal had not been long in progress before -she saw Richard, who was nearly opposite, receive a whispered message -from his servant and leave the table quietly. It was his duty to -translate or decode any messages that might arrive, and she was not -surprised when presently he reappeared at Sir Harry’s elbow, and -handed him a small piece of tissue paper, creased as though it had -been rolled up lengthways very small. As the General took it up, she -saw that there were two of these pieces of paper, both covered with -writing. -</p> - -<p> -“From Colonel Rickmer, General, brought in a quill by a <i>cossid</i> of -Colonel Welborne’s,” murmured Richard. Colonel Welborne was in modern -phrase Director of Intelligence, organising the elaborate system of -espionage and counter-espionage on which so much depended. -</p> - -<p> -“And enclosing a message from Welborne, I see. Why, what’s this?” Sir -Harry’s growl of rage startled the table, and the diners who had been -politely pretending not to notice what was passing looked at him -quickly. He pulled himself together in an instant, and laughed -harshly. -</p> - -<p> -“See here, gentlemen; this is good, ain’t it? Poor Rickmer desires me -to tell him what on earth he is to do, for Welborne sends him word, -‘For God’s sake, halt! You will be attacked to-morrow by forty -thousand men at least. Entrench yourself until the General can arrive -to your relief.’ Is he to halt or not, he asks me, since I have sent -him no orders to that effect. Here’s my answer—a pencil, Ambrose.” He -turned the note over and wrote in his sprawling characters on the -back, “‘Welborne’s men are all in buckram. Come on.’ Be good enough to -have that sent off at once. How does it strike you, gentlemen?” -</p> - -<p> -A roar of laughter went round the table, and if the General had wished -to punish Colonel Welborne for his hesitancy in charging at Mahighar, -he must have felt that he was avenged when he heard the jokes and -quips levelled at the unfortunate man throughout the rest of the meal. -Moreover, every man present would impart the jest to others, and the -camp as well as the tent would quickly be ringing with the news of -Welborne’s nervousness and the General’s drastic treatment of it. But -though he laughed with the rest, he found a moment to growl to Eveleen -under cover of the talk— -</p> - -<p> -“By no means sure Welborne ain’t correct. But he had no business to -tell Rickmer. I’m looking after him—watching Kamal-ud-din as a cat -watches a mouse. What reason has he for funk? Long before the Arabits -could walk over him I should be upon their rear.” -</p> - -<p> -That he meant what he said was clear the next morning, when Captain -Stewart rode out with a squadron of native cavalry, under orders to -skirt round the enemy’s position and join Colonel Rickmer. If the -enemy came out in force to prevent him, he was to send back a message -at once, when the General would march to his assistance with horse, -foot, and guns. In any case Colonel Rickmer was to be informed that -Sir Henry would meet him on the morrow on the field of Mahighar—where -nothing would induce the Arabits to tempt fortune a second time—and -escort him into camp. -</p> - -<p> -To every one’s astonishment this promise was kept to the letter, -though—as Brian told his sister—the column commander had lost his -head to such an extent that he might have been asking to be -annihilated. Probably Colonel Welborne’s message persisted in -recurring to his mind, despite the General’s cavalier comment, for his -one idea seemed to be to get into safety with a run. He had brought -with him from Sahar the women and children of his brigade, and a mass -of baggage that would have made Sir Harry tear his hair, and how they -had managed to get so far was a mystery. -</p> - -<p> -“Stewart says the fellow might have intended all the time making a -present of ’em to Kamal-ud-din,” said Brian—“like the Russian chap -that dropped his children out of the sledge to divert the attention of -the wolves from himself. There was the whole caravan strung out over -the desert, straggling at its own sweet will, and Rickmer miles away -in front, swearing at his drivers to hurry, for all the world as -though he had been badly beat and was trying to get his guns off the -field. Happily the enemy was a good match to him for foolishness, for -one detachment only—just one—of Arabits turned up and began to be -nasty when Stewart was trying to get the stragglers into line and -protect their rear. When they opened a matchlock fire on the women and -baggage, he thought it was getting beyond a joke, and sent an express -to beg Rickmer to detach a troop for the rear. He had only six sowars -with him—the rest were guarding the flanks,—but he charged with ’em -and drove off the Arabits. Of course they came back when they saw they -had him unsupported, and ’twas near an hour before the cavalry he had -asked for turned up, bringing the cheerful news that Rickmer was still -pushing hard for Qadirabad—he’d cot sight of the tower of the Fort, -and it drew him like a magnet, you might say,—leaving the baggage and -the non-combatants to look after themselves. Stewart’s blood was -up—d’ye wonder?—and he told his horsemen to do their best while he -went hell-for-leather after Rickmer, and found him uncommonly busy and -excited getting his guns over a nullah. There was some plain speaking, -I gather—I wonder now was there just a scrap or two of language -unbecoming in a junior officer to his superior in rank?—and Stewart -got two field-pieces, and galloped back with ’em helter-skelter. A few -shots drove off the Arabits, and what was better, the sound reached -the General and brought us all out to the rescue; we met Rickmer’s -galloper on the way with the news he was attacked—but if Kamal-ud-din -and his chiefs were not the most incapable set of muffs that ever had -the cheek to stand up to a British army, Rickmer would be eternally -disgraced—and rightly.” -</p> - -<p> -Kamal-ud-din’s extraordinary failure to seize his opportunity was the -talk of the camp that evening. The general opinion was that the young -Khan shared the weakness of his elders for intoxicating drugs, and was -incapable of giving orders at the moment, whilst his subordinates -durst not act without them; but Sir Harry had found an explanation far -more to his taste. -</p> - -<p> -“It was chivalry—pure chivalry!” he told Eveleen, in all seriousness. -“The spies tell me that as soon as he heard there were European women -and children with the column he called off his troops and -countermanded the attack which had been ordered. He said the Bahadar -Jang had treated the Khans’ women with consideration, and he would -treat the Feringhee women the same.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure he did attack,” objected Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“That was a body of horse that had already started—not his fault. A -fine fellow that—a young man after my own heart. It does one good to -be able to respect one’s enemy—as we did in the Peninsula, where the -British soldier thought far more of his French opponents than of his -bloodthirsty and treacherous allies.” -</p> - -<p> -“And did the Spaniards know what you thought of them?” It seemed to -Eveleen that this attitude must have led to difficulties. -</p> - -<p> -“They couldn’t very well help it. We had trouble with ’em now and -then. But how did it matter what they thought? We turned Napoleon out -for ’em, worse luck!” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder are all allies so trying to the people that are helping -them?” Eveleen spoke feelingly, for she had been doing her best to -help the ladies from Sahar to settle down after their long march and -final exciting experience, and they did not seem to her to be properly -grateful. She did not realise that it was highly disconcerting to -ladies of higher military rank to find “that Mrs Ambrose” established -in the best set of rooms in the Residency—their wrath was not -mollified by the explanation that it had been her home when her -husband was Assistant to Colonel Bayard,—while they were relegated to -less imposing apartments, or quartered in the garden-palace lately -vacated by the Khans. Everything was in such a bad state of repair, -too—with shot-holes in the walls very imperfectly patched up, and -roofs far from water-tight,—and there were no European comforts to be -had. It seemed to Eveleen that these good ladies thought considerably -more about their furniture and food than about the impending crisis, -and they declared that no one but a wild Irishwoman could have -expected them to settle down contentedly amid such surroundings. To -crown their misdeeds, they observed sympathetically, one after the -other, that Richard was not looking at all well, and that men of his -complexion were always the first to be affected by the sun. They -followed this up by a recital of the precautions with which they -pursued their own husbands—with the obvious implication that Mrs -Ambrose was sadly lacking in this respect,—and when Eveleen replied -with a furious denunciation of coddling, they shook their heads with a -pleased solemnity that could only mean, “Just as I thought!” She -relinquished her self-imposed duty at last in a huff, and during the -evening—with natural inconsistency—tormented Richard, who had work -to do, with sudden enquiries whether he was certain he really felt -quite well. -</p> - -<p> -In the morning she had forgotten her anxieties, and when Richard -returned from office, was far more concerned to know whether the -General was intending to review the newly arrived troops—which he -could not tell her. They were breakfasting on the verandah, and as -Eveleen expressed somewhat vigorously her opinion of people who could -hear and remember everything but what was interesting, there came from -the big <i>shamiana</i> opposite such a shout as made them both jump up and -run to the steps. The General and his aides were rushing out—one man -had still his fork in his hand,—snatching up any hats or caps -available, and making for the cliff overlooking the river. Brian had -the grace to tarry long enough to call out “Boats!” and Eveleen, -always ready for any excitement, whether she understood its nature or -not, promptly ran down after them. Richard came after her, and -presented her reprovingly with her sun-hat, which she accepted without -gratitude, since his forethought obliged her to stop and put it on. -Arriving panting at the head of the path, she looked down the river, -like all the rest. There was still a broad expanse of dry sandy ground -below, but the channel was a little wider than on the day when the -<i>Asteroid</i> and the <i>Nebula</i> had carried the besieged garrison into -safety, for the snows were just beginning to melt on the Roof of the -World. Up the channel from the direction of Bab-us-Sahel boats were -coming, one after the other, their gunwales lined with scarlet-coated -men who waved their caps and cheered as they saw the figures on the -cliff. The General and his staff responded as joyfully as boys. -</p> - -<p> -“The boats! the boats! the reinforcements from Bombay!” everybody -called out to everybody else, and people began to run together from -all parts of the camp. But while nearly all eyes were fixed on the -boats coming up from the left hand, Frederick Lennox was looking -fixedly in exactly the opposite direction, over the scrubby jungle -which covered the low-lying land on the right. -</p> - -<p> -“Hillo!” he said presently, then touched his uncle on the arm. “D’ye -see those masts, sir? What can they be?” -</p> - -<p> -The General looked and looked again, unable to believe his eyes. “As -I’m a sinful man, the reinforcements by water from Sahar!” he cried. -“Was ever anything so neat? ’Pon my honour, I’d march against Napoleon -and the Grand Army now!” -</p> - -<p> -“Really the old boy’s luck is positively amazing!” said Brian, as Sir -Harry went a little way down the path to feast his eyes on the -approaching craft. “Give you my word, he was in the very act of -saying, ‘Now if only my reinforcements from Bombay and Sahar would -come in! But that can’t be for a week at least, and I won’t let this -chap bully me within five miles of my camp all that time, so Rickmer’s -brigade must do my business.’ The words would hardly be out of his -mouth when Stewart, who was sitting where he could see out of the tent -door, called out, ‘There are boats—look!’ and we all tore out of the -place as you saw us. Sure the General will be as happy now as the day -is long—only the day won’t be half long enough for all he’ll want to -be doing.” -</p> - -<p> -Never, surely, had even Sir Harry, that champion hustler, put in such -a day’s work. The new troops were out of their boats before they knew -they had arrived, and the General was inspecting them and gloating -over the howitzers and other war material they brought with them. A -host of coolies was at work pitching their tents while they enjoyed an -afternoon’s rest under the trees of the Khans’ garden, and then came -combined manœuvres, in which the new arrivals and Colonel Rickmer’s -force were brigaded with the General’s original troops, and ordered -about and handled by the redoubtable veteran until they began to know -their places and his methods. When they were at last dismissed to -their well-earned repose, the General’s day was not done. Vakils had -again arrived from Kamal-ud-din, and at his command been given a place -whence they could see all the movements of the troops, then taken up -and down the lines and bidden look well at everything, and finally -dismissed with the order to go and tell their master all they had -seen. But they were reluctant to depart, and reinforced by the young -Khan’s Diwan or Chief Minister, who arrived late at night, they sat on -the ground in Sir Harry’s tent, and talked and talked. This time it -was his turn to offer Kamal-ud-din his life, and his chiefs their -possessions, if they surrendered unconditionally on the morrow, but -they were no more prepared to accept such terms than he had been. It -was obvious they were trying to find out all they could, for they -stayed on though there was nothing more to say, and started fresh -quibbles whenever they were given leave to depart, until the General, -his Munshi, and Richard Ambrose were all worn out with parrying their -various questions. It was two in the morning before Sir Harry -succeeded in inducing them to accept his dismissal as genuine, and -they were ceremoniously escorted out. The General was wrapping his old -cloak about him as Richard returned. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose they thought they would finish me with fatigue,” he -grumbled. “This sort of thing tells on a man of sixty-one. Two hours’ -sleep, Ambrose. Lie down anywhere and don’t waste any of it. We march -at four.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch19"> -CHAPTER XIX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE SECOND ROUND.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> seemed only natural to Eveleen, who had learnt the hour of the -start from Brian, to bind Ketty by promises and threats to wake her at -half-past three, so that she was able not merely to ply Richard with -coffee and sandwiches—an attention he received with tolerance rather -than enthusiasm,—but to ride a short way with the army on its march. -Unfortunately Richard did not take the same view. He was not going to -be made a fool of before the new reinforcements by his wife’s sticking -to him as if he was not to be trusted out by himself! Eveleen looked -at him critically. -</p> - -<p> -“Sure y’have got up too early, Ambrose, and your temper is spoilt for -the day! It’s Brian I’ll ride with, don’t be afraid, and you can be -cross all to yourself.” -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye think I don’t know you have set your heart on emulating Lady -Cinnamond by riding in the ranks, Mrs Ambrose? But this ain’t -Salamanca, and I ain’t old Cinnamond. I tell you plainly I won’t have -it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Wouldn’t you better wait till y’are asked?” sweetly. -</p> - -<p> -Richard snorted furiously. “Well, just understand this, if you please. -If you attempt it, I’ll go sick and come straight back, rather than -look like a figure of fun before the whole army.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed and you have got your way now. Will I let my husband shame -himself and me, and fail the General? Make your mind easy; I’ll not -come. But listen now; my mind is easy too. I might have been afraid -for y’if y’had started out this morning like a decent reasonable man, -but now y’are so cross I need have no fear at all that anything will -happen you.” -</p> - -<p> -This assurance failed to mollify Richard to any particular extent, and -he took his leave of her with distinct coldness. Nor was he specially -pleased, when the force was at length in motion, marching eastwards -through a blind maze of wooded nullahs and <i>shikargahs</i> cut up by -canals, in which the whole enemy army might have been concealed close -at hand, to hear Brian laugh suddenly, and on looking up to see -Eveleen sitting on her horse on a hillock which commanded some -approach to a view. She leaned forward eagerly and waved her -handkerchief as they passed beneath her, and the General saluted and -shook his fist at her in the same breath. It was to please Richard -that she turned and rode back to camp as soon as the staff had gone -by, but the ungrateful Richard, having saluted with extreme stiffness, -was unaware of her consideration, since he refused to look at her -again. Sir Harry and the rest thought he was anxious lest she might -fall into the hands of the enemy—for the spies had brought word that -Kamal-ud-din had moved from the position reconnoitred three days ago, -and might be lying in wait in this tangle of woods and ravines, -instead of waiting at his old headquarters to be attacked,—and tried -to console him with assurances that, much as she deserved it, nothing -worse was likely to happen to her, even if the Arabit scouts did -appear, than a good fright. Sir Harry’s force, numbering five thousand -men, was double that which he had led to victory at Mahighar, and he -had been able to leave eight hundred to guard the camp and five -hundred in garrison in the Fort, so that Kamal-ud-din would certainly -keep his men well together, and not allow desultory raiding. But had -Eveleen known what the General learned from a herdsman after a weary -march of some miles, she might have had the fright Brian kindly -desired for her. Kamal-ud-din had moved, not towards his original -position, but towards Qadirabad, so that he was now on the left rear -of the column, and threatening not only its communications, but also -the city and the camp. But since she did not know, she was not -alarmed, and unaware that the column had turned aside at right angles -from its first line of march, only wondered, when the boom of the guns -began, that the sound should seem so near. -</p> - -<p> -She wandered about the house restlessly all morning, trying to guess -at the changing course of the battle by the varying cannonade, and -sorely tempted to ride out again and find her way to the hospital -tents, that she might be as close to the fighting as she had been at -Mahighar. Now and then an officer passed, from whom she learned that -the battle was certainly taking place well to the north of the -General’s line of march, but that there was no sign of the attack on -the city which had been anticipated for the same moment. Tired out -with anxiety, she sat down wearily at last on the verandah, looking -out over the wooded country, and distinguishing in impossible places -clouds of smoke that could only come from the guns. Then at last her -waiting was rewarded, for two men rode into the compound—Brian, a -gruesome figure in aggressive bandages and a deeply stained coat, and -a native orderly who was keeping so close at hand as to suggest he had -been supporting him on his horse. Eveleen dashed out—hatless, of -course, but happily by this time there was shade on this side of the -house. -</p> - -<p> -“Brian, what’s happened you? Is it wounded y’are?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it.” Brian grinned languidly from the saddle. “Pricked -my finger, that’s all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah then, don’t try to tease now! Will I bring a chair to help you get -down?” -</p> - -<p> -“You will <i>not</i>. Go in and get a nice comfortable chair ready for me, -and Nizam Ali will help me get to it. And—I say—salts or something!” -</p> - -<p> -That this last request was a heartless ruse on Brian’s part to get her -out of the way while he was helped down and into the house was clear -to her when she heard him whistling “Jim Crow” as she rummaged for the -salts, and on returning breathless found him established in a long -chair and again grinning. He rewarded her efforts so far as to take a -tremendous sniff at the salts and declare that he was “kilt,” even -before he thanked and dismissed the trooper, and then lay back in the -chair and laughed quietly. -</p> - -<p> -“Oughtn’t you go to bed, Brian?” asked Eveleen anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“Not dis nigger. Why, d’ye think I’d be here but that my old lad said -I was making too much mess of his nice clean battlefield, and ordered -me off? The sawbones who tied me up wanted to put me in a doolie, -regardless of the other poor chaps waiting, but I says in my best -English History manner, ‘Brother,’ says I, ‘their need is greater than -mine,’ beckoned to Nizam Ali, and came away on my own four -feet—leastways on little Bawn’s. And here I am.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure y’are over-excited. Y’oughtn’t be talking so much. Brian!” a -horrible suspicion darting into her mind—“what about Ambrose?” -</p> - -<p> -“Riding hard, when I saw him last, with a message from the General to -the cavalry not to chase the enemy too far, lest they’d be cut off -before the infantry could come up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then ’twas another victory?” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you listen to the woman! Another victory? Of course it is—as -big as Mahighar, if not bigger. But it’s got to have a name found for -it, for did y’ever hear of such a name for a victory as Mussuck?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mussuck? There’s some little bit of a village called that, I -remember. So ’twas there you fought? But sure you were all going quite -wrong when I saw you, then.” -</p> - -<p> -“And would have done, but for a decent man minding cattle, who saved -us a big disappointment, and Kamal-ud-din a big triumph. We had to -turn almost straight back and march full two miles before we found him -in the position he’d prepared for himself.” -</p> - -<p> -“The one you explored the other day?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, much nearer the city. Didn’t I tell ye ’twas at Mussuck? Place -very like Mahighar. ‘Not much originality about <i>them</i>?’ says the -General. Same little river, even—except that it had a bit of water in -it by now, not just mud,—but farther down, of course, and ’twas on -our left instead of across our front. It was two nullahs they had -chosen for stopping us this time—one behind the other, tremendous -places; <i>shikargahs</i> to right and left, village behind the left one, -as per usual. Nullahs scarped everywhere, and every scrap of jungle -and cover cleared away in front, of course, to give ’em a clear field -of fire. They do know their business, those chaps, if they can find -the place to suit ’em. Some fellow said he saw a European among ’em, -but that ain’t like——” -</p> - -<p> -“Now oughtn’t you be quiet and rest a little? I love to hear about it, -but I’m afraid——” -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t be that. Why wouldn’t I get it clear in my own mind? We -had a bit of a check just at first, for after all the jungle and the -nullahs we’d been traversing, the army came out on the plain a good -deal mixed up, and the General had to go from regiment to regiment -straightening ’em out, instead of reconnoitring as he did at Mahighar. -That might have done for us, for Keeling, who was exploring under -fire, couldn’t get near enough to make certain how things lay. Somehow -we all had the notion that the village behind the enemy’s right wasn’t -held—the spies swore it. And what seemed to show they were -concentrated on their left was that men would keep on running out from -the edge of the wood there, take a good look at us, and run back -again—we could see ’em through our glasses. What would be more -natural than that they’d have an ambush there, as they did before, but -without any wall to keep ’em from coming out and falling on us? So the -General avoided that side, meaning to give ’em a good run under fire -across the cleared space before they could reach us. Through an -opening in the trees beyond the two nullahs, we could see the Arabits -in great numbers hurrying to their right, and it looked for all the -world as though the same idea had come to them and the General at the -same moment—each determined to rush the village before t’other side -could get there. But it was a trap again, though a different kind of -one. They had the place packed with men already, and the men that were -running were only in support. Eleven guns they brought to bear on us, -and before ours could get into position to reply, our line wavered a -bit, but there was never anything like falling back. The queer thing -was that the moment we stuck, off went our cavalry on the right in a -tremendous charge straight at the wood. Whether Keeling and Rickmer -had taken to heart the General’s remarks on the slackness of the -Bengallers at Mahighar, and thought he was in straits again and now -was their time I don’t know, but ’twas the finest sight I ever saw. -They plunged right down the nullahs and up again, all shouting their -war-cries, and we stood staring after ’em till the red turbans and the -gleaming swords were lost in the trees. If the wood had been held as -we thought, ’twould have been madness and destruction, that charge, -but ’twas not, and seeing the enemy as confounded as ourselves, the -General rallied the infantry and led ’em on. I give you my word not a -man faltered. The Queen’s —th led, as was their right after Mahighar, -and they marched straight up to the entrenchments as steady as on -parade. The Arabits tried to jump out on us with a howl, as they did -that first time, but ’twas a mighty poor imitation. ’Twas our men -jumped down among them instead, and we had a hand-to-hand fight all -along that nullah and the next. We had ’em much more at our mercy this -time—if you can call it that when they must have been six times our -numbers,—for Keeling and Rickmer were pressing ’em from the right, -and as fast as they got out of the nullah and ran for their lives, -they only ran into the arms of the rest of our cavalry, which had -skirted round the <i>shikargah</i> on the left, and was waiting to receive -’em and turn ’em back. We had a frightful time in the village, -clearing ’em out of every house in turn, for they fought like tigers, -and of course our guns could do nothing for fear of hurting us.” -</p> - -<p> -“And would that be where you were wounded?” -</p> - -<p> -“Just outside it. Chap made a cut at me wrong way about—up instead of -down—nasty sort of blow. If it hadn’t been that I got in my cut at -the same minute, and spoiled the force of his—well, the old man’s -despatches would have regretted the loss of another promising young -officer. So you were very near rid of me, don’t you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah now, don’t, then! I can’t bear to think of it. How do any of -y’ever come out alive? Y’are sure”—with a break in her voice—“that -Ambrose was safe after that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Didn’t I say so? Keeling sent back a message to the General that he -had cot sight of Kamal-ud-din’s elephant, and was going to pursue him -to Umarganj if necessary, and the old man sent Ambrose to catch him up -and see what direction he was taking. Couldn’t have the Khemistan -Horse lost in the desert and perhaps cut off, you see.” -</p> - -<p> -“There, now! your voice is quite weak and shaky, and it’s my fault for -letting you talk so much. I wish Sir Harry would come—sure he’d soon -send you to bed.” -</p> - -<p> -“He may not come back at all to-night—that’s why I’d so greatly have -liked to stay on the field. If he finds there’s reason to hope -Kamal-ud-din ain’t got very far, he’ll risk everything to catch him -and end the war at one blow, if I know him. But if he’s taken to the -desert, then it’s a case of rest for the troops before they can push -on farther.” -</p> - -<p> -But Sir Harry did return that evening, though only for an hour. The -joyful shouts of the soldiers in the camp heralded his appearance, and -he rode into the compound looking very old and bent. After a word or -two to the Munshi salaaming respectfully at the door of the great -tent, he came across at once to the Residency. -</p> - -<p> -“And what d’ye think of this fellow, ma’am?” he demanded of Eveleen as -Brian staggered to his feet and supported himself by one of the -verandah pillars. “No thanks to him that you have got him back safe, I -can tell you! I found him riding furiously all over the battlefield, -bleeding like a pig, looking for some other village to give its name -to the day, because he wouldn’t have it put on his tombstone that he -was mortally wounded at the battle of Mussuck!” -</p> - -<p> -“And did he find one?” asked Eveleen, rather absently. It might have -been that the coarseness of the General’s language—so unheard-of when -speaking to a lady—betrayed unusual turmoil in his mind, or—had she -really caught him trying to signal to Brian unperceived? -</p> - -<p> -“Not the ghost of one! To get him to go home quietly, I had to decree -that it should be for ever called the battle of Qadirabad, and he -promised me to die happy on that condition.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sir Harry!” her voice was sharp. “Y’are not here to cut jokes about -Brian. There’s something wrong with Ambrose. What’s happened him?” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Mrs Ambrose, what should make you imagine——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you tell me what it is? Is he—is he——?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, he ain’t,” said Sir Harry gruffly—“if you mean dead—nor even -wounded. He had a slight sunstroke, but happily a surgeon was at hand -to bleed him, and he is recovering his senses in due course.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen put her hand to her head. “But the sun is not hot yet—to -speak of,” she said in a puzzled voice. -</p> - -<p> -“He had fever on him this morning, it seems. It was a foolish business -his setting out to ride all day in that state, but nobly foolish. You -must be proud of him.” -</p> - -<p> -“’Twas my fault—I ought have seen it—begged him to remain behind. I -noticed he was cr—unlike himself.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure if that was the way of it, he’d have gone all the more, the more -you begged him,” said Brian, trying rather unsuccessfully to improve -matters. She looked at him as though she had not heard him. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s my fault, I tell you. And now he’s sick, and away from me. Sir -Harry, you’ll let me——” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t let you go to seek him, ma’am, for he’s coming to you, as -fast as a Medical Department palanquin can bring him. We are encamped -on the battlefield, but the wounded must return hither, that the -hospital establishment may follow the army. So your mind may be at -rest as far as that’s concerned.” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are very good, Sir Harry. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see -everything is ready for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Evie, he’ll not be here for hours yet!” remonstrated Brian, but -the General signed to him to be silent. -</p> - -<p> -“Do, ma’am, do! Can’t make too much of our brave fellows, can we? I -must be off too.” -</p> - -<p> -“But not without some refreshment.” Her hospitable instincts prevailed -even at this moment of desolation. “Brian, bid the servants bring some -food for the General, will you not?” -</p> - -<p> -“Only too thankful to avoid transporting my rheumatic old carcase -across the compound again before it’s necessary,” said Sir Harry, when -Brian had summoned the butler and given him orders. “I have bid Munshi -get the office establishment on the march, for I must have ’em with me -since I’m deprived of poor Ambrose.” -</p> - -<p> -“He ain’t worse than y’have allowed my sister believe, General?” with -sudden anxiety. -</p> - -<p> -“No, but it’ll be a long business, I fear. To ride at all was bad -enough, but to accept that chase across country after Keeling was pure -madness. Had I had the slightest notion——! But there you are. I came -across two of the Queen’s —th as I left the battlefield—one crouched -almost double by the roadside, his comrade trying to cheer him on to -reach the hospital tents. I bade my orderly give the sick soldier a -lift, and learned from t’other that his friend ought to have reported -sick this morning, but refused on account of the approaching battle, -and so marched and fought all day before yielding to nature’s -imperious weakness. Others I hear of who received wounds in the attack -on Rickmer’s baggage, and concealed ’em, lest they should be forbid to -fight to-day. Could any enemy in the world defeat such men as these?” -</p> - -<p> -“Did poor Ambrose get the message to Keeling, General?” asked Brian, -as Sir Harry wolfed down bread and meat and drank coffee in a way that -said much for his digestion, if little for his palate. -</p> - -<p> -“No. Rickmer called off the pursuit when Keeling swears another -half-hour would have seen Kamal-ud-din a prisoner in his hands. Never -a word of this to Ambrose or your sister, remember. It was the poor -fellow’s excess of zeal led him to over-estimate his powers.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then he fell from his horse at the moment you said you feared -Kamal-ud-din must have left sharpshooters in ambush to delay the -pursuit, sir? when he failed to cross the space of empty ground you -were watching with your telescope?” -</p> - -<p> -“That was the place. The patrol I sent out found him lying -unconscious, his horse feeding beside him. And you came straight here, -as I bid you?” -</p> - -<p> -“As straight as a swimming head would permit, General! Of course I was -beset for news as I passed through the camp, but I told all I could to -the first officer I met, and stationed a sentry to keep the curious -from approaching this house, according to your orders, so everything -has been quite quiet.” -</p> - -<p> -“‘Quite quite!’” Sir Harry mimicked Brian’s pronunciation. “Good, I am -glad to leave you here to be a support to your sister—possibly also a -consolation to poor Ambrose. You and he must keep up one another’s -spirits.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure you’ll let me rejoin you, sir? This scratch—not a cat’s -scratch, I’ll allow, but equally not a tiger’s; will we say it’s a -tiger-kitten’s?—can’t keep me laid up more than a day or two. One -day, I’d say if I was asked, but I know what these medicos are when -once they get their hands on you.” -</p> - -<p> -“We march again to-morrow, as soon as the doolies that have brought -the wounded hither rejoin. Why, my good fellow, are you blind not to -see that all hangs on our catching Kamal-ud-din <i>ek dum</i>? With him in -my hands, the last shot is fired, as I believe. But should he escape -and raise another army, with the hot weather and the inundations -coming on, he may bother us for another year. So hie after him! Let us -hope the gentleman will have the politeness to wait for us at Khanpur, -and not lead us away into the desert on an unmannerly wild-goose hunt -for Umarganj.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hard luck for you to lose him, General, when you so nearly had your -fingers on him again!” -</p> - -<p> -“Precious hard luck! But no, I won’t have a word said against my -luck—my most astounding good luck! That Rickmer’s column should get -in safe, despite its commander’s utmost efforts, that both my -reinforcements, from up and down the river, should arrive in the very -nick of time, that we should run across that herdsman this morning, -and learn that while we were flourishing forth to fight empty air the -enemy was in full march for our communications—what d’ye call that? -Nay, I will go further, and instead of what in our pagan style we call -luck, say that the hand of Providence has been manifest throughout. -There is a great future before Khemistan—I’m convinced of it. I see -all the hoarded wealth of Central Asia pouring down the river, and -making Bab-us-Sahel a port richer and more extensive by far than -Bombay. (As soon as I have time to think of anything but fighting, my -first care shall be the provision of a proper harbour.) I see the -great city of Victoria rising on the upper river, occupying the whole -of the site now covered by the wretched hovels of Sahar and Bahar and -the mouldering ramparts of Bori—the scene of an annual fair beside -which the glories of Novgorod grow pale, where the silks of Gamara and -the embroideries of China are spread forth to entrance the eyes of the -simple Arabit bringing for sale the precious gums of his mountain -deserts and the wiry beasts of his own breeding. I see that -Arabit—son and brother of the grim fighters whose piled corpses I -passed with unavailing horror and regret on my way hither,—his -immemorial weapons laid aside at the behest of British power, not -merely cultivating a desire for the manufactures of the West, and -thereby benefiting my beloved native land, but perceiving for the -first time the blessings of peace and the advantages of commerce, and -carrying the tale to the dwellers in his rugged glens. Positively -there’s no end to the wonders that will follow naturally upon this -day’s conquest. The price is heavy—those gory heaps, not merely of -the enemy, but of our own best and bravest,—but Heaven is my witness -that had the choice lain with me, not one drop of blood had been shed. -My hands are clean, for all that I have been ‘a man of war from my -youth.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Who could deny it, General? Certainly no one that knows you, or has -taken part in the campaign. The enemy themselves will be the first to -admit it, when they are learning under your guidance the lessons of -peace as they have done—not by their own good will, I’ll -confess—those of war.” -</p> - -<p> -Undoubtedly Brian possessed to perfection the art of smoothing down -the lion. Sir Harry’s rugged countenance radiated pleasure and -contentment, though he felt bound to protest. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, well, we mustn’t make too sure! Yet it seems as though Heaven -had designs for me as well as for Khemistan. To be riding gently up -and down for three mortal hours at Mahighar between opposing forces -never more than fifteen yards apart, the target of both—for when the -—th got excited and fired high their bullets came rattling about my -head—and yet to go unscathed! To lead my soldiers unwittingly into -the line of fire to-day, then down into that nullah, with matchlocks -directed at my heart in dozens from the farther bank, and those fiery -swordsmen dashing upon me whirling their deadly blades! Delany, I -found my sword-hilt smashed by a bullet; after I had sent you away one -of the enemy’s magazines blew up close to me; yet I was unhurt. Not -even Black Prince was touched, poor beast!—which at Mahighar was -neither more nor less than a miracle—though my orderly behind me was -unhorsed both then and to-day. Nor have I been compelled to defend my -own life at the cost of another’s. To-day an Arabit ran at me with his -sword uplifted. I had a pistol ready, and could have shot him, but a -soldier stopped him with his bayonet before he could reach me. Even my -staff seem to share my immunity. Though riding hither and thither on -errands in the thickest of the fray, not one of you has even been hit -until you took this hurt of yours, and you came by that through your -thirst for hand-to-hand fighting, against which I have warned you. -There is indeed something remarkable in all this. D’ye know the people -have found a new name for me? Several times as I rode here I saw -groups of ’em bowing profoundly at the roadside, and on my orderly -calling out that the Bahadar Jang was in a hurry and could hear no -petitions now, their sole reply was to prostrate themselves -reverently, ejaculating ‘Padishah!’” -</p> - -<p> -“And why not, sir?” asked Brian heartily—he had been fearing the -General had heard himself mentioned by the less complimentary title of -“Brother of Satan.” “Who would be so fit as yourself to administer the -territory you have added to Her Majesty’s dominions?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, that ain’t for me to say——” Sir Harry was obviously not -ill-pleased. “The Governor-General will select whom he chooses—though -I don’t pretend to be ignorant of his appreciation of the efforts of -the army. That <i>dâk</i> which came in before we marched this morning was -Lord Maryport’s, containing his congratulations to us on Mahighar. I -have had no time to read it through, but it contained some -awards—Keeling is promoted aide-de-camp to the G.-G., I remember—and -he promises further promotions when he has been able to study my -despatches more fully. To be elated by the praises of a -civilian—pshaw! am I as weak as that? I trust not, I believe not. -Praise from the Duke, now—the assurance that the humblest of his -Grace’s pupils, endeavouring to put in practice lessons learnt from -that great man, had made no heinous mistake,—that would gratify my -most greedy desires, and lacking that, I shall remain unsatisfied. Put -it that Lord Maryport appoints me Governor of Khemistan, as you -suggest. I am touched by such a proof of his lordship’s confidence, -and naturally strive to acquit myself to his satisfaction, but if he -desired to do me a personal favour, he could please me no better than -by sending me back to my wife and girls. What are Khemistan and the -winning of battles to me compared with them?” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure you’ll have both, General. Lady Lennox and the young ladies -won’t consent to be kept at Poonah much longer with you up here, if I -know ’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly it may be feasible to get them here after the hot weather. -Then indeed I should have nothing left to wish for. But I must be -moving. I am glad to leave you here to look after your sister. See to -it that she never rides alone, by the bye. Munshi was telling me some -foolish tale of Kamal-ud-din’s believing that our luck resides in her -presence with us, and no doubt he is capable of seeking to transfer my -good fortune to himself. The lower he sees his cause sunk, the more -likely he is to attempt to re-establish it by some desperate -expedient. And see that she don’t drive the unfortunate Ambrose mad by -her affectionate assiduities, if you can.” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you tell me you think I’m able for it, General?” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Harry chuckled. “Give the poor fellow the support of your presence -when possible. But don’t attempt to dissuade your sister from a close -attendance on him, for you’ll get the worst of it. Never interfere -with a woman in her own province. She knows what will bring her -consolation, though you mayn’t realise it. That’s the advice of one -who has had a good deal to do with women.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sorry the association has been so unfortunate as to teach you -such wisdom, General.” -</p> - -<p> -“You young dog!” Sir Harry turned back on the verandah step and -chuckled again. “But you’re wrong there. I thank Heaven no woman has -ever known sorrow through me. Many are the tears I have kissed away, -but never caused one to flow. And you are thinking, you irreverent -young rascal”—with a renewed chuckle—“that to be kissed by a -battered old phiz like mine would be more likely to draw tears than to -allay ’em. I know you young fellows!” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t dream of such a thought, sir!” with virtuous indignation. -“But all the same, I’d give a good deal to be sure you don’t draw -floods of ’em from my little Sally when I ask you for her, before you -say yes!” he added <i>sotto voce</i>, as he supported himself by the pillar -while Sir Harry mounted his horse and called out a farewell message to -Eveleen. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch20"> -CHAPTER XX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">IF SHE WILL, SHE WILL.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> would be pleasant to state that the shock Eveleen had received -turned her in one hour into a normal wife, and that feminine intuition -taught her to care for her husband in his weakness without jarring him -by too great eagerness, but it would not be in accordance with the -facts. Perhaps the ladies who disliked her were justified in saying -that she was unwomanly. At any rate, the truth remains that she was -absolutely incapable of realising that there are times—and a good -many of them—when the soul of a sick person yearns for nothing on -earth but to be let alone. She could not let Richard alone. If she was -not doing some totally unnecessary and undesired thing for him, she -was thinking of something to do, and if she could not think of any -thing, she was asking him to suggest something. His bearer knew -exactly how to make him comfortable in bed, but it would have been -asking too much of Eveleen to expect her to believe this. She was -quite certain she could arrange things more to his taste than any one -else, and she arranged them complacently to <i>her</i> taste, only to see a -possible improvement in less than five minutes, and to proceed to make -it. Richard’s hours were passed in undergoing a continual series of -experiments—each of which had to be talked about beforehand, -discussed while it was in progress, and made the subject of mutual -congratulation when it was over, until the next inspiration dawned on -Eveleen’s mind. He could not quite decide whether the talking made it -worse or better. It added the tortures of anticipation to those of -realisation, certainly, but it might have been worse if he had been -seized upon without warning. He was too weak to protest, too weary to -be sarcastic, though he derived not merely bodily satisfaction, but a -glimmering of amusement, from the air of portentous patience with -which his bearer would take any and every opportunity of the Beebee’s -absence to reverse each and all of her arrangements, and make his -master comfortable in his own way. Perhaps it was as well that -Eveleen’s inventive brain provided her with so many new and infallible -ideas for the better treatment of the sick, since she could never be -quite sure that the arrangement she found in force on her return might -not have been her own latest experiment but one, and not the bearer’s -at all. Her satisfaction in having her husband all to herself, and -being able to do everything for him—she told him so perpetually—was -so complete that Richard had not the heart to disturb it, and -sufferance being the badge of the bearer’s tribe, he refrained -likewise. The surgeon was the only person whose authority she -acknowledged—to a certain extent,—and he knew better than to wound -her, and probably provoke a scene, by throwing doubts on her capacity -as a nurse. What he did, and earned thereby the patient’s sincerest -gratitude, was to insist on her taking regular exercise—or in the -enthusiasm of her self-sacrifice she would have forsworn even her -beloved rides. The doctor used to detect, or so he imagined, a faint -smile in the eyes of the man on the bed when he took upon himself, -with friendly violence, to propel Mrs Ambrose from the sick-room. -“Just a short ride, my dear madam, beside your good brother’s -palkee”—for the surgeons had fulfilled Brian’s darkest anticipations -by condemning him to a recumbent position and no riding for a week at -least—“to cheer him up and give you a little change of scene. -Otherwise”—darkly—“we shall have you unable to resume your kind care -of Ambrose to-morrow, and what would become of him then?” with, it is -to be feared, a perceptible wink directed towards the patient. -</p> - -<p> -Richard’s constitution—mental as well as physical—must have been a -good one, for he succeeded in surviving not merely his own imprudence -on the day of the battle, but his wife’s nursing after it, and in -arriving at the point when the surgeon said cheerfully, “Now we ought -to see some improvement every day!” But the forecast was not -justified. There was no relapse, but also no further improvement. The -patient remained in the same state day after day—unwilling or unable -to attempt exertion of any kind, still asking merely to be let alone. -It was only natural that Eveleen should become impatient. Her active -mind had run ahead of reality so far as to picture him convalescent -and established out of doors in the shade, with herself fetching and -carrying for him and anticipating his slightest wish. The trifling -drawback that there was no shade out of doors did not at first suggest -itself to her. The hot weather was coming on fast, and the emerald -greenery which had made the country round Qadirabad such a refreshing -sight to Indian eyes was growing brown and parched. Happily the -Residency had been built to suit the climate, with thick walls and -heavy chunamed verandahs, and an abundant supply of the mud-brick -ventilators evolved by local talent—erected on the roof to catch -every breath of air, and convey it in the form of wind down a kind of -chimney into each room, accompanied by a disproportionate quantity of -dust. But even in the Residency Eveleen gasped for breath behind the -close-drawn blinds, and felt that life was only worth living when -night and darkness made it possible to move about again outside, -though only to find that all her favourite leafy spots were sere and -dry. Then—probably by force of contrast—the thought of Bab-us-Sahel -and the sea suggested itself to her, and instantly her mind was made -up that a trip to Bab-us-Sahel was what Richard needed to restore him -to health. Of course he would never shake off his lassitude here, with -the hot breath of the desert blasting the vegetation and burning -everything up. A voyage down the river—peacefully floating onwards -night and day, drawing nearer each hour to real sea-breezes—that was -what would cure him, and he must and should have it. She said -so—without a thought of encountering opposition—to Brian, just -promoted to a gentle ride morning and evening instead of the -humiliating palkee, and was astonished and wounded to find that he did -not agree with her. -</p> - -<p> -“Can’t you leave the poor fellow alone?” he demanded. “Sure he only -wants not to be teased and worried.” -</p> - -<p> -“But who teases and worries him, I’d like to know? It’s rousing he -wants—any one could see that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ask the doctor, can’t you? and see what he’ll tell you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will not. Don’t I know what my own husband wants better than any -doctor?” -</p> - -<p> -“But Ambrose don’t want to go to Bab-us-Sahel.” -</p> - -<p> -“Does he not, indeed?” triumphantly. “I asked him would he like it, -and he said he would greatly.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder did he even know what you were talking about? Plenty of -times I don’t believe he’s so much as listening.” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are very polite, indeed! I know better.” -</p> - -<p> -“But see here, Evie, the floods will be coming down any day now, and -you wouldn’t be safe in any country boat—only a steamer, and you know -there ain’t one to spare.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure that’s the very reason we ought start at once—to make the -voyage before the floods begin. They don’t come till a full fortnight -after this—I was asking about it this morning—and that’ll give us -oceans of time.” -</p> - -<p> -“You can never tell. They would as likely have begun a fortnight -ago—only they have not. Anybody will tell you there’s no reckoning on -’em.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I can’t help that——” with a sudden shifting of her ground. “I -tell you we are going.” -</p> - -<p> -“You can’t go without getting leave. Even if the doctor would let you, -Ambrose is on the staff, and you can’t go carrying him off to t’other -end of nowhere without a word to the General.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure I’ll write and ask him. Will that satisfy you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Will you wait for the answer? Nonsense, Evie! y’are behaving like a -bit of a child. Look now what I’ll do for you. I’ll go see the General -and tell him all about it. He’ll be at Khanpur—or maybe even on his -way back here, and I suppose you will take what he says from his own -mouth. If he thinks it safe you will go, and if not, you stay here -like a rational being. You can trust him. Is that settled now?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll be quite satisfied if I once see the General and settle it with -him,” agreed Eveleen—which was not quite the explicit pledge Brian -would have exacted had he been giving his full mind to the matter. But -Brian was uncomfortably conscious of ulterior motives in his -opposition to the plan. He was arguing quite as much for his own -benefit as Richard’s. The General would give him leave to escort his -sister and the invalid to Bab-us-Sahel, he was sure—only too readily, -indeed, for he did not want to go. He wanted to be back at his proper -work—not leaving Stewart and Frederick Lennox to win all sorts of -laurels without him. Khanpur had fallen without a blow—Khemistan is -full of Khanpurs, but this was Kamal-ud-din’s pleasure-capital on the -edge of the desert, quite distinct from his grim fortress of Umarganj -in its deepest depths. The inhabitants met the Bahadar Jang with -acclamations, and testified the utmost gratitude to him for delivering -them from the Arabit tyranny, but they could only hand over the shell -without the kernel. Kamal-ud-din, with his baggage and the remains of -his army, had escaped into the desert, presumably to Umarganj, and Sir -Harry settled down, with what patience he could command—which was -very little—to wait at Khanpur while his subordinates continued the -pursuit. It was not etiquette for him to move against Umarganj in -person, lest so great a potentate should incur the disgrace of a check -before a small desert fort, and he was beginning to pay some attention -to Indian opinion, which he had despised so heartily when he landed. -But he learned to wish that he had disregarded it on this occasion, -for Kamal-ud-din contrived marvellously to baffle his pursuers. He was -heard of in many places—now far ahead of his enemies, then at the -spot they had just left, and at this time there was a rumour that he -had managed to elude the troops altogether, and break back towards the -river. With the hot weather and the inundations close at hand, this -was a serious matter, and Brian anticipated a regular drive—a -combined effort to put an end once and for all to the young Khan’s -power for mischief. Little wonder, then, that Eveleen’s insistence on -the trip to Bab-us-Sahel failed to meet with sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -Being anxious to get back to active service at the earliest possible -moment, Brian had obeyed orders so virtuously with regard to his -wound, that the surgeons were quite glad to have an opportunity for -rewarding him. His request was so modest—merely to ride out to -Khanpur with a supply convoy, which must necessarily travel slowly and -by night, pay his respects there to the General, and return, thus at -once testing his strength and increasing it, and the doctors sped him -joyfully. So did Eveleen. He felt bitterly afterwards that he ought to -have extorted a promise from her that she would make no move until his -return, but it is probable that at the time she had no thought of -anticipating it. According to her wont, she was entirely convinced -that things were going to happen as she wished, and referred to -Brian’s mission as though the General was merely to be informed -politely of the proposed journey instead of being asked to permit it. -Brian found this trying, and ventured to point out the misconception, -whereupon she faced round upon him with flashing eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“D’ye tell me Sir Harry would have the heart to keep Ambrose here sick -when a month or so at Bab-us-Sahel would set him up entirely? It’s -yourself is making the difficulty, Brian, and if you say any more I’ll -know you don’t want us to go.” -</p> - -<p> -This was precisely the case, but it seemed rather heartless to admit -it to an affectionate wife torn with anxiety for her husband, and -Brian said no more. His disobliging attitude rankled in Eveleen’s mind -for a while after he started, but as so often happens, it was -opportunity that provided the impulse to action. She was sitting with -Richard as usual, and after a night largely sleepless by reason of the -heat, was dozing in her chair—not restfully, but spasmodically. She -was too tired even to resent actively the fact that the bearer had -seized upon the chance of doing something for his master, and was -remaking the bed—if it could be called making when there was so -little to make. He was talking, too, and Richard was answering -drowsily, or rather acquiescing, at due intervals. It was something -about a Parsee trader whose business required his immediate presence -at Bombay. He had secured boats and a guard of armed men for the -voyage down the river to Bab-us-Sahel, but though he was intensely -anxious to get there before the floods began, he was horribly afraid -of the wild tribes plundering on the banks, and would give anything -for the countenance and protection of European fellow-travellers. By -Richard’s murmured assents, the information evidently conveyed nothing -to him, but Eveleen was wide awake by this time, and sat up suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -“How did you hear this Firozji would like to take European passengers -in his boat, bearer?” she asked—in Persian which was very much of the -“station” order, but which long practice enabled Abdul Qaiyam readily -to understand. But he did not seem very clear about his answer. The -matter had been talked about among the servants. They might have heard -of it from Mr Firozji’s servants—he did not know. Eveleen suspected -at once that her desire to go down the river had been discussed—as -everything was discussed—by the servants, who were always at hand to -see and hear, and that one of them knew sufficient of Mr Firozji’s -affairs to conceive the idea of bringing the two parties together in -return for a tip from the Parsee, and possibly another from herself. -But to quarrel with the means by which her wish might be attained -would indeed be to look a gift-horse in the mouth, and she questioned -the bearer further, finding him better informed than his previous -vagueness might have suggested. To secure the escort of Europeans, Mr -Firozji would be willing to give up to them his own large and -comfortable boat, occupying a smaller one himself, and his servants -would undertake catering and cooking, so that only personal attendants -need be taken. This clinched the matter. Eveleen bade Abdul Qaiyam -summon Mr Firozji to wait upon her as soon as possible, and then -turned her attention to the not unimportant detail of getting the -doctor’s leave for the move. She met the poor man with shock tactics. -</p> - -<p> -“Such a wonderful chance!” she cried triumphantly when he came in on -his evening visit—“splendid, I’d say, only the General hates the word -so. You know the way I have been longing and wishing to get Ambrose -down the river, but there wouldn’t be any boats going?” -</p> - -<p> -It was the first the surgeon had been told of it officially, but he -also had servants, and they also talked. Therefore he was able to -answer with truth, “I have heard of it, certainly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, and now here’s the very thing—old Firozji in the Bazar going -down with more boats than he wants, all in a hurry to avoid the -floods, don’t you know. He’ll be glad of European passengers, we’ll be -glad to travel with him, so did y’ever hear anything nicer?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not surprised at his welcoming European fellow-travellers, but I -doubt your finding him the safest of company. He’s afraid of the -Codgers, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -These were the Kajias, the wildest of the wild tribes of Lower -Khemistan, who in the mouth of the British troops naturally became the -Codgers, and their Khan the King of the Codgers. The Kajias it was who -had been so bold as to raid the outlying houses of Bab-us-Sahel, and -Sir Henry had sent the Khan a stern reproof and orders to come in and -surrender. Eveleen laughed as she thought of it. -</p> - -<p> -“And the Codgers will be afraid of us. Sure the General has put terror -upon them—so that’s all right. After these two victories no one would -dare touch a European.” -</p> - -<p> -“I trust you may be correct. But——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, then, don’t <i>but</i> at me! Be good and kind like yourself, and help -me to make my <i>bandobast</i> in time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, when do you want to go?” -</p> - -<p> -“I haven’t seen Firozji yet, but the way the bearer spoke I’d say he -would start to-night if he could—and what could be better? I -mean”—she explained kindly—“that Ambrose won’t have the worry of -looking forward. He’ll wake up out of this drowsy state and find -himself on the beautiful cool water, and he <i>will</i> be pleased!” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s something in that,” said the surgeon meditatively, and went -and looked at Richard, in whose eyes he caught a fleeting gleam of -recognition, which passed as quickly as it came. “But I fear you won’t -find it particularly cool on the river. The glare from the sand and -the water will be precious trying, after the shade here. You don’t -know what it means to be cooped up in a small boat in the hot weather, -with nothing but a mat roof between you and the sun, and no -possibility of finding even a rock or a tree to shelter you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it won’t be for very long,” cheerfully. “And <i>nothing</i> could be -hotter than ’tis here.” -</p> - -<p> -The surgeon was well aware of the contrary, but Eveleen looked so -tired and washed-out that he could not bring himself to dash her -hopes. He remembered another objection, however. “But what about -getting leave? You can’t spirit away the General’s political assistant -without asking him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, now, what could be better?” she cried joyfully. “My brother has -gone to see Sir Harry and get leave for this very trip, only I never -thought we’d find a passage so easily. Sir Harry can’t refuse, and -Brian must come on after and overtake us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Or fetch you back, if Sir Harry should refuse.” -</p> - -<p> -“He will not, I’ll answer for him. ’Twould be as much as to say he -didn’t wish Ambrose would get better.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have no doubt you would tell him so, ma’am. And you ain’t afraid of -the responsibility of looking after your husband with no doctor at -hand?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, what can doctors do for him?” ungratefully. “Ah, now”—realising -what she had said,—“you know what I mean. You have done all you -can—you said so,—and here he lies in this state, and you can get him -no further. You’ll tell me what I’ll do if he seems worse, and I’ll do -it. Why would I be frightened at all?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see that the voyage can do him any harm so long as you ain’t -shipwrecked or attacked by the Codgers,” said the surgeon dubiously; -“and at Bab-us-Sahel you will be able to turn him over to Gibbons. But -for pity’s sake don’t go and get marooned on a sandbank, or besieged -in some barren spot on the shore without a bit of shade, till your -brother comes and rescues you. I can’t answer for Ambrose if he’s -exposed to the sun again, remember. The heat is bad enough; you will -have to keep the bearer pouring water over him most of the day in any -case, I expect.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will, I will; and if we have to be besieged I’ll be sure to pick -out a <i>shikargah</i> or some other nice place. And you will see about a -pass for us, if one’s wanted, like the angel that y’are, and see that -no one would try to stop us, will you not?” -</p> - -<p> -“But I would gladly keep you back myself until your brother was here -to take charge of you, if I didn’t know it would mean that you would -probably be prevented from going at all. Hang it, ma’am! I wish you -had sent me a chit to tell me what you wanted. How is a man to -consider things coolly with a flood of blarney pouring on his head?” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure I don’t want you to consider things—only to do them,” said -Eveleen innocently, and he went off laughing. That morning it would -have seemed absurd that she should actually find her wishes fulfilled -by the evening, but so it happened. Mr Firozji, a short elderly man, -who contrived somehow to be both stout and wizened at the same time, -was evidently waiting outside for the doctor to go. He was very rich, -very timid, and so grateful for the prospect of having Major and Mrs -Ambrose as fellow-passengers that he would have promised almost -anything to secure them, and Eveleen had to insist that they should -pay their share of the boat hire and other expenses. -</p> - -<p> -“’Twould be a fine joke against Ambrose to save his pocket by putting -him under an obligation to a black man, but I won’t be teasing him -when he’s so ill,” she said virtuously to herself. “Though Firozji -would maybe think it only fair to pay for the protection of our -presence,” she added a little ruefully. “It’s well I’m not timid, for -it looks as if my courage would have to do the whole party.” -</p> - -<p> -It was not the first time in her life that she had felt nervous over -the fulfilment of one of her impulsive wishes, but she had never had -the feeling quite so strongly as to-night. Abdul Qaiyam and Ketty had -it too, for they both enquired anxiously if she was not going to wait -for the young Sahib. She was obliged to be very firm and cheerful with -them over the process of packing, realising that they would not be -sorry if they could manage to delay things till the opportunity was -lost. Despite the heat, she flew about from the sick-room to her own -room and then to the verandah, deciding what must be taken, and seeing -with her own eyes that it was packed. Abdul Qaiyam would never let his -master go short, she knew—if Richard suffered it would be through -forgetfulness, not malice,—but she had an idea that she herself might -find various things lacking that were indispensable to comfort unless -she looked after them herself. Richard remained in the same lethargic -state until the servants lifted him to carry him down to the boat. -Then there came another of those brief flashes of full consciousness, -and he looked disturbed—even protesting. Eveleen had a moment of -terror lest her plan should fall through even now. She bent over him -and smiled into his face. -</p> - -<p> -“Off to Bab-us-Sahel!” she said brightly. “Do y’all the good in the -world!” -</p> - -<p> -He seemed to try to say something, but in the effort the drowsiness -came over him again, and she was guiltily conscious that she was glad. -Once get him safely on board, and he might regain command of his -senses as soon as he liked. He was certain to make a fuss—especially -about her not waiting for Brian’s return—but she would point out -triumphantly that his return to consciousness was the best possible -proof of the wisdom of her action. The surgeon came to see them on -board, and gave anxious directions as to what was to be done if -various things happened, and she listened and did her best to label -them and stow them away in the proper compartments of her mind. A -number of friends were waiting to see them off, for the sudden journey -had given every one the idea that Richard had had a serious relapse, -and the only chance of saving his life was to take him at once to -Bab-us-Sahel, regardless alike of the unpropitious season and the -dangers of the way. They were very quiet and sympathetic as he was -carried down the path, but a certain revulsion of feeling was -perceptible when Eveleen followed. Ambrose looked no worse than he had -done for days, and Mrs Ambrose certainly had not the look of strain -that the situation demanded. Just a little anxious, no doubt, as any -woman is when she is trying to remember whether she has got everything -before starting on a journey, but with a look of something like -triumph as well. The condolences and good wishes fell rather flat, and -as they returned up the cliff by torchlight the ladies told their -husbands that either Mrs Ambrose was trying to get rid of the Major by -carrying him off away from medical aid, or she was going down the -river for some purpose of her own, regardless of the effect on him. -</p> - -<p> -The chill of disapproval made itself felt, and Eveleen was conscious -of depression of spirits. The boat was as comfortable as had been -promised, their possessions were easily arranged so as to leave ample -room for moving about, and one or two suggestions which the doctor -made for the invalid’s comfort were instantly carried out. Yet she did -not feel happy. The surgeon’s last remark had been that they ought to -have a guard of soldiers—he was certain the General would have sent -one had he been there,—and anyhow, where were these armed servants of -Firozji’s? Mr Firozji explained anxiously that a boat had gone to -fetch them, and they would catch up the party below the camp, and the -doctor said he hoped it was all right, but his tone was doubtful. -Eveleen remembered it when the boatful of guards joined the other two. -They were armed, certainly—to the teeth, but they were a wild-looking -set, more like outlaws from the hills than the servants of a -law-abiding elderly merchant. But had Mr Firozji said they were his -servants? She could not remember that he had, and it looked very much -as though he had selected his guardians from among the masterless men -who had been left without occupation by the defeat of the Khans. If -she had guessed that he had carried one of the root principles of -Indian housekeeping so far as to guard against trouble from the Kajias -by going to some trouble to obtain members of the tribe as his escort, -she would have been still more uneasy, but she told herself that it -was too late to turn back now, and she must hope for the best. She -took out Richard’s pistols, and made sure that they were loaded, and -determined to sleep with them under her pillow and a supply of -ammunition within reach of her hand. After all, Brian ought to catch -them up in two days at most—less if he took a fast boat and kept the -crew up to their work. It did not occur to her that Brian might be in -no hurry to get back from Khanpur. He was a man of many friends, and -there was plenty to hear from all of them, and he had no particular -objection to leaving Eveleen to cool her heels at Qadirabad, as he -believed, for a day or two. The longer his return was delayed, the -more likely was she to have some new plan in her head—completely -ousting the Bab-us-Sahel one,—or the floods might even have begun, -and the journey be out of the question. -</p> - -<p> -The surgeon’s warning came back to Eveleen many times in the course of -the next day, and when evening came she would readily have confessed -that at the Residency she had not known what heat was. In her -anticipations, the voyage had offered all the advantages of a steamer -except its speed, coupled with the absence of smoke and smell, and the -delight of being near the water. But she found that with the greater -speed of the steamer went the pleasant sensation of moving air, and -that the long hot hours when there was no breeze to fill the sails, -and the river-current seemed incredibly slow, provided a new form of -torture—such as might be experienced by a speck of dross on the -mirror-like surface of a huge cauldron of molten metal. Even Richard -was conscious of it, as she could not but see. He did not recognise -her—not even her voice when she spoke to him,—but he gasped feebly, -with now and then a pitiful little moan. The fear gripped her that he -might die before her eyes, and with threats and bribes she induced one -of the boatmen and a servant of Mr Firozji’s to keep the roof of the -cabin continually wet with buckets of water, while Abdul Qaiyam -performed the same service for his master beneath it. It was no light -task, for the heat seemed to dry things at once, and leave them even -drier than before; but she threw all her energy into the business of -keeping the men at their work, and when evening came her husband was a -little easier. She had a moment to rest, and to notice what she had -not done before—the threatening look of the sky. Mr Firozji, in a -quavering voice which sounded absurdly small for his substantial bulk, -opined that they were going to have a thunderstorm, and Eveleen did -not need him to tell her that if this extended far up the river, it -would mean that the dreaded inundation would begin at once. Other -people realised this as well, for the lazy boatmen began to work with -some appearance of energy, and the headman of the guards came into Mr -Firozji’s boat to urge some course of action upon him, which he -refused, though with a fluttering politeness which betrayed alarm. -Since there was still no breeze, it was necessary to pole the boats -along, as this wide unsheltered channel was not a safe place in which -to be caught by the storm; and the boatmen poled to such good purpose -that before the rapid darkness fell, the flotilla was moored under the -lee of an island—or rather sandbank—which promised some protection -from wind and current. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch21"> -CHAPTER XXI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">WELL AND TRULY LAID.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Still</span> the storm tarried. Supper was served, and Eveleen made a -pretence of eating, lest the servants should attribute her lack of -appetite to fear. Then they went away to have their food—Ketty eating -in self-righteous solitude, while Abdul Qaiyam fraternised with the -boatmen, who had kindled a fire on the island to cook their rice. -Eveleen envied them as they sat in the smoke, for it served to keep -away mosquitoes and other flying pests, while she durst not light a -candle for fear of filling the cabin with the winged intruders. Alone -with her unconscious husband, she kept a dreary vigil, fearful of she -knew not what. She remembered that Richard had seemed about to say -something when the boat with the guards came up, but the momentary -impulse had passed, and he had shown no inclination to speak since. -What was it that had troubled him? Could it be that he had recognised -any of the men? But even so, what could the guards do, even if -ill-disposed? They might intend robbery, but the modest belongings of -the pair would be poor booty compared with the danger of provoking the -certain vengeance of the Bahadar Jang. Or if they were indeed -adherents of the Khans, their object might be simply to avenge the -wrongs of their former masters; and Eveleen shuddered as she -remembered what had befallen an invalid officer, on his way down the -river, at the hands of some of Khair Husain Khan’s servants. Dragged -from his boat shivering with fever, the sick man had pleaded with the -robbers, as he thought them, to leave him his clothes, because he was -so cold, and they had responded by cutting off his head. Sir Harry had -acted as might have been expected of him, informing the Khan he would -hang him from the round tower of the Fort unless the guilty servants -were given up. They were produced in an hour, and suffered the penalty -their master escaped, though it went sorely against the grain with Sir -Harry to spare Khair Husain and punish his tools. That example ought -to serve as a salutary warning, surely? -</p> - -<p> -But Eveleen could not take comfort. The servants had returned and made -things ready for the night, and she had lain down on her bed, though -knowing she could not sleep. Every sense seemed to be more than -commonly alive, as though the coming storm, which had lulled Richard -into lethargy, merely stimulated her. Theoretically no one was awake -within miles of her—for what was the use of posting sentries on an -uninhabited island in the middle of a wide river?—but the air was -full of little unaccountable noises. A feeble soughing wind that went -and came, distant irritable growlings of the storm, the rattling, -rather than rustling, of the withered grass and rushes—these sounds -she could identify, but there were others whose meaning eluded her. Of -course it was only the lapping of the water that sounded like -whispers, and when one might think some one had dropped a weapon it -was merely the snapping off of a dead branch by its own weight; but -she wished they would not happen. The blinds at the ends of the cabin -were rolled up to allow the free passage of air, and she lay looking -out at the leaden sky, with no companionable stars to brighten it, and -listening to the sounds, and there fell upon her at last an agony of -terror. It had always been her boast that she did not know what nerves -were, but she would never make it again. The beating of her own heart -sounded to her like the rise and fall of a tremendous piston, such as -she had once heard in a Dublin factory, filling the whole earth and -sky; and as she cowered before its relentless thud, she trembled with -cold, though the slightest movement made her aware that her whole -frame was streaming with perspiration. She who had been afraid of -nothing was afraid of everything—the place, the time, the weather, -the solitude, the company, the silence, the sounds,—what she saw and -what she did not see. -</p> - -<p> -She shook herself angrily free from the overmastering terror at -last—or at any rate, which perhaps showed equal courage, she acted as -if she did. Struggling from the bed and to her feet—for she found she -must put forth all her strength, as though she were really being held -down by a powerful hostile hand,—she threw on a dressing-gown and -groped her way forward. The old bearer, curled up like a dog beside -his master, heard her and looked up curiously: she saw his bright eyes -like a dog’s in the dark, lighted by some gleam behind her, perhaps -the ashes of the dying fire on the shore. She stood looking out, but -there was nothing to see. Dark sky, dark water—a perfect pall of -darkness brooding over everything,—and on her left a slightly deeper -darkness which showed the position of the island and its ragged grass -and shrubs. The voices of the night were whispering as before, and -again she felt that terrible sensation of helplessness. Once she -opened her lips to pray, but her pride was not broken yet. “And how -would I pray,” she asked herself sharply, “when I know every bit of -it’s my own doing?” -</p> - -<p> -She staggered as she spoke, and caught at the framework of the cabin -to steady herself. What had made the boat lurch suddenly—some wave -which was the result of the storm higher up, its precursor here? She -looked more narrowly at the water. Was it fancy, or did she see round -things moving in it? And surely there were strange amorphous shapes -where there had been none before? Her heart stood still. The change, -if change there was, was so soundless, so ghostly. But the thought of -the supernatural passed from her mind with a shock. The boat was -moving. Not merely swaying at its moorings as the current tried to -suck it away from the protecting island, but moving out into the -stream and leaving the island behind. Wild thoughts of crocodiles -rushed into her mind. Could they possibly bite through stout ropes and -tow a boat along, or even leave it to float at its own sweet will? -Impossible; there must be human agency at work. With Eveleen to think -was to act, and kneeling precariously at the side of the boat, she -leaned over the gunwale and clutched at one of the round objects she -had thought she saw. The yell of horror which came from it told her -what the sense of touch told also, that it was a human head. The boat -was surrounded by swimming men, who were moving it away from the -island—presumably it was also being towed by a rope. But what the -great shapeless objects were, which she seemed to see beyond the -heads, she could not tell, nor did she trouble to conjecture. Whether -she or the man she had grasped was the more astonished might be -doubtful, but she had the advantage of position. Catching up an -earthen water-pot which stood outside the cabin for the sake of -coolness, she hurled it in the direction of the yell, and was on her -feet in a moment and under the mat roof. When she came out, Richard’s -pistols were in her hand, and she fired one in the direction of the -island as a signal. She could not believe that Mr Firozji was -concerned in any plot that might be toward, and if he was a man at all -he would come to the rescue with those guards of his. -</p> - -<p> -The immediate response to her signal was a startling one. She had -barely time to recharge the pistol, working clumsily in the dark, -before there was a hasty movement of men aft—whether the boatmen or -the swimmers she could not tell, nor was she much concerned to know. -At the moment she was more conscious of Abdul Qaiyam’s heavy breathing -close beside her as he asked in a bewildered voice whether the Beebee -had shot anybody than of her possible assailants. Hurriedly she thrust -the ammunition pouch at him. -</p> - -<p> -“Load when I pass y’a pistol!” she said sharply, and then called out -in her imperfect Persian to the men in front that if any one came -nearer she would shoot him. One man sprang forward, and she fired at -him point-blank. The blind shot in the dark must have taken effect, -for the man cried out and fell forward. Confused cries of rage and -protest came from the rest, and Eveleen held her hand. For the moment -she had thought of discharging all the three shots she had left into -the group, in the hope of driving them overboard at once, but the -imprudence of leaving herself defenceless, even for a moment, was -reinforced by mystification. The whole thing was like a bad dream—the -shapes in the water, the moving crowd dark against the dark sky, the -eager talking in an unknown tongue. If it was Persian, her knowledge -of the language was quite inadequate to cope with it. She stooped a -moment towards Abdul Qaiyam as he handed her the recharged pistol. -</p> - -<p> -“Speak to them!” she said imperiously. “Ask them who they are—what -they want. Tell them we are well armed, and can see them though they -can’t see us.” -</p> - -<p> -The old man was too much terrified to obey immediately, and she thrust -at him impatiently with her foot. Then his quavering voice made itself -heard—“Brothers!” and the men in front appeared to listen. One of -them stepped forward a little. -</p> - -<p> -“Stand back, or I fire!” said Eveleen quickly, and the bearer repeated -the words in Persian. As he spoke, she remembered suddenly that she -must be visible to any one able to see through the cabin from end to -end, and she sank on her knees, resting the barrel of the heavy pistol -on the back of a camp-chair which she pulled noiselessly towards her. -Crouching thus, she was invisible to those in front, and a barrier—if -a frail one—between Richard and the enemy. But were they enemies, or -was there some absurd mistake? She could not decide, but she felt -fairly certain that what they had been speaking was not Persian, -though the spokesman—who had withdrawn a pace or two hastily before -her threat—was using that language with Abdul Qaiyam. -</p> - -<p> -“These are very bad people,” the old man murmured to her at last, and -she listened without turning her head. “Kajia tribe—they come to -steal the boat—everything.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense! they’ll not do anything of the sort. Where will the Parsee -be, now? letting this kind of thing happen instead of coming to help -us.” -</p> - -<p> -To her amazement the meek voice of Mr Firozji answered her—apparently -from somewhere close at hand. In her bewilderment she suffered her -gaze to stray for a moment, and discerned dimly that he was just -outside the boat, but seemingly not in the water. At least, his voice -was on a level with the gunwale, though there was no grating sound to -show that another boat was rasping alongside. The mad -incomprehensibility of the situation was more incomprehensible than -ever. -</p> - -<p> -“The Beebee beholds in me a son of misfortune,” he said pathetically. -“The Kajias have deceived me. They have stolen the boat, so as to -carry away the Sahib, the Beebee, myself, the servant people—all.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what may those guards of yours be about, to let them do it? Call -them, can’t you? Shout!” -</p> - -<p> -“The Kajias would slay me,” in affright. “The guards are asleep.” -</p> - -<p> -“Much good they are! But what do the Kajias want to do with us? We’d -be no good to them to steal.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are they not taking us to their camp?” he suggested doubtfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, they won’t, then. Tell them to go back and leave us on the -island, and take the boat if they want it.” -</p> - -<p> -“They say the water will soon be rising, and we should all be drowned. -They refuse to leave us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure they’re very considerate! Well, tell them we won’t go to their -camp—or if we do, there’ll be precious few of them will take us -there. I have plenty of shots here, and I’ll use them all first.” -</p> - -<p> -“What does the Beebee please to desire?” was the question asked after -some interchange of conversation between Mr Firozji and the captors. -Eveleen had employed the interval in thinking hard. She did not -believe the Kajias meant to take their victims to their camp—or if -they did, it was merely for the sake of killing them more at their -leisure. It was in the highest degree unlikely that they would leave -witnesses alive to testify against them, or provoke Sir Harry further -by attempting to hold them to ransom. No, what they had no doubt -intended was to tow the boat out of earshot of the sleepy guards on -the island, and then cut the throats of all on board, and gut the -vessel and send her adrift, in the comfortable conviction that nothing -but unrecognisable fragments would survive the storm. This seemed the -more certain from their bringing with them the means of getting to -shore again, for the mysterious shapes—on one of which Mr Firozji was -uncomfortably poised, like a river-god in difficult -circumstances—were obviously the <i>mashaks</i>, or inflated skins, with -the help of which the tribes on the banks were in the habit of making -such short voyages as they found necessary. How they had managed to -abstract the poor little man from his own boat, under the eyes of his -servants, was a mystery, but everything was mysterious to-night. -</p> - -<p> -He repeated his question as Eveleen hesitated a moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, let them take us over to the other side,” she answered—the -desire to be as far as possible from the Kajias conquering all other -considerations. “I’d rather choose the desert than their camp.” -</p> - -<p> -“There is no time. They are afraid of the storm.” Mr Firozji’s voice -sounded as if he was frightened himself. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, they may say whether they’ll be shot, or drowned in the storm. -I’d much rather be drowned——” She stopped suddenly, for the second -pistol, which had lain beside her knee, was hastily withdrawn, and a -shot rang out behind her. Then she laughed rather wildly, for the -deferential voice of the old bearer murmured— -</p> - -<p> -“This humble one made bold to fire at one of the sons of wickedness -who was climbing into the boat behind the Beebee’s back.” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite right!” she said, still laughing, then turned sharply upon Mr -Firozji. “Tell them they are wasting time. If the storm overtakes us -’twill be their fault. I’m tired of this. Let them make up their -minds.” -</p> - -<p> -Again there was a prolonged conversation, and apparently the Kajias -gave a grudging assent to the condition. “If the Beebee is determined -to drown all of us and the Kajias too, she must,” remarked Mr Firozji -sourly as he scrambled on board the boat, having taken the opportunity -of putting in a word for himself in the course of the negotiations. -Yet Eveleen had the idea that he was not really displeased, and she -wondered whether he could possibly be in league with the Kajias after -all. But the notion seemed so absurd that she banished it again, -though disregarding coldly his hints that the night air was unhealthy, -and refusing to invite him into the cabin. The Kajias—or the -boatmen—or perhaps they were the same: it was impossible to see—were -very busy, working with an alacrity rather surprising in the -circumstances. There was a slight chill breeze to be felt now, and -they were hoisting the sail, and also getting out their poles. Were -they really indifferent which bank they landed on, or were they -plotting further treachery? As noiselessly as she could, Eveleen -supplemented the chair which served her as a parapet by such other -pieces of furniture and packages as she could reach, and whispered to -Abdul Qaiyam to do the same at the other end of the cabin, entrusting -him with one of the pistols. In feeling about, she came across Ketty, -who had preserved such an unwonted silence during the stirring events -of the last half-hour that her mistress had forgotten all about her. -But she had been employing her time to advantage, as Eveleen -discovered when she found her dressing-case open and largely denuded. -Her handmaid had been removing such fittings as were of convenient -size, and concealing them about her person. -</p> - -<p> -“What in the world are you doing, Ketty?” The tone would have been -louder but for prudential reasons. -</p> - -<p> -“What madam doing without her things?” was the self-righteous reply, -calculated to make Eveleen repent her unjust suspicions. Were they -really unjust? she wondered. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I hope y’are taking care of the Sahib as well,” she said. “He -needs much more than I do.” -</p> - -<p> -The sniff with which Ketty replied suggested that she considered this -would be trespassing on Abdul Qaiyam’s province, but her mistress had -no time to see whether she was obeying or not, for there were other -things to think of. The tardy storm was coming up at last, heralded by -the breeze which was taking the boat across the stream. Great drops of -rain were falling like bullets on the cabin roof, and the air was full -of a hissing noise. The boat was in the main stream now, and the -boatmen drew in their poles, and evidently settled down to hold tight -and hope for the best. The river seemed bewitched, cross-currents -driving the boat now this way, now that, and the men who were managing -the clumsy sail had no easy task. The vessel was not built for rough -weather, her draught being too shallow and her deck-load too heavy. -She bounced and bobbed about, shipping a good deal of water, and -hurling all the loose things in the cabin from side to side with every -lurch. Fearful of a surprise, Eveleen durst not leave her post even to -see that Richard was safe, and had to take what comfort she could from -the knowledge that his charpoy was fixed to the deck. By the sounds -she heard, she gathered that the two servants were in the throes of -sea-sickness, and she wondered dismally what would happen if she -herself were prostrated by it as on the voyage from Bombay. But her -mental preoccupation probably saved her, and she was able to maintain -her watch. Sheets of rain were falling now, and she was soaked to the -skin, but did her best to shelter the pistol under the wadded quilt -she dragged from her bed. The lightning was almost continuous, and -whenever the howling and shrieking of the wind would allow, the -rolling thunder filled up any pauses. The boat appeared to have -embarked with enthusiasm on a series of experiments—now trying to -stand on her head, now on her tail, and then seeing how far she could -heel over without actually dipping gunwale under. It was wonderful -that the mast did not go, though the great sail had been partly torn -and partly cut away, and replaced by a tiny one which just kept the -vessel before the wind. By the flashes of the lightning Eveleen noted -grimly the miserable huddled figures forward, and guessed that the -Kajias were not particularly happy in their conquest. -</p> - -<p> -“If only there was a man on board worth a halfpenny—barring my poor -Ambrose,” she said to herself, “we’d retake the ship in no time. But -who is there at all? Firozji is no mortal use; if Bearer can fire a -pistol, that’s the most he can do; and as for the boatmen, if they -ain’t Codgers themselves, they’re every bit as bad. Indeed and they’re -worse, for they ain’t sea-sick.” -</p> - -<p> -Her self-communing was interrupted by a tremendous clap of wind, which -came down on the boat as though determined to end her gambols at one -blow. But once more she righted herself, though the cabin roof was -torn bodily from its supports and carried gaily down the river. -Eveleen’s heart failed her until she had assured herself, by groping -and feeling, that Richard and the two servants were still there. The -roar and crack had been so overwhelming that for the moment she fully -believed the boat had broken in two, and they were all so wet already -that the exposure to the rain hardly signified. Moreover, the loss of -the mast and the cabin made the boat decidedly steadier, though -Eveleen was less grateful for this than might have been expected, -since she saw distinct signs of returning animation among the captors -when the lightning made them visible. Could they be nearing the shore? -she wondered. How long they had been tossing about, yet on the whole -forging eastwards, she could not tell, but now that the lightning was -less continuous, it seemed to her that between the flashes the -darkness was not quite so in tense. It was a poor prospect—to be -turned out on an unknown shore with a sick man and two frightened -servants; but the expectation of treachery was so strong in her mind -that she would have been thankful if they had been already there. -Certainly it was not goodwill on the part of the Kajias that had -induced them to undertake a voyage of so much danger and difficulty to -get rid of their prisoners, with the prospect of another even more -difficult and dangerous in getting back to their own side of the -river; what then was it? It was not fear. During her tempestuous vigil -she had seen that clearly. Her bluff before the storm had been -spirited, but at any moment she might have been rushed from behind and -thrown overboard, or a man on a <i>mashak</i>, shooting at the sound of her -voice in the dark, might have crippled or killed her without the -slightest risk to himself. It could hardly be vengeance, since—though -it might involve more suffering to your captives to maroon them on the -barren shore where they had mistakenly asked to be placed than to kill -them and dispose of their bodies in the river—their sufferings, which -you would not see, would hardly be sufficient compensation for the -risk to yourself involved in getting them there. Mr Firozji, too. A -certain complacence about the little man’s manner led Eveleen to the -conclusion that the greater part of his merchandise must consist in -precious stones hidden about his person, so that he could regard -lightly the loss of all the rest. But if she could guess this, so -could the Kajias, and were they really going to allow him to escape -with it? The whole thing—like all the events of the night—was beset -with riddles, and all that could be done was to keep a sharp watch -against surprise. But in what direction? Eveleen did not know where to -look, and moreover, the unceasing strain of the last few hours was -telling upon her. She had been soaked so repeatedly that she could -hardly remember what it was to feel dry and warm; she was aching in -every limb, and—what was worse—her eyes would hardly keep open. In -spite of the misery of body and anxiety of mind which had already -endured so long, she began to find her eyelids closing involuntarily -and imperceptibly, when she knew she ought to redouble her vigilance -of the night now that dawn would soon give her enemies the advantage. -She had no longer even the shelter of the cabin from which to fire, -and her poor attempt at a barricade had been disintegrated long ago, -and its component parts strewn upon the waters. She turned her head -with difficulty, and saw—yes, the light must be increasing, since now -she could see dimly Richard’s white face as he lay stark and stiff, -like a dead man, on the charpoy, which was fortunately fixed against -the framework of the cabin at the corner where it had suffered least, -the old bearer crouched beside him, one hand clenched on the pistol, -and Ketty hunched up, like a little old monkey, nearer to herself. -They were defenceless but for the two pistols—even if the charges -were not too damp to fire. The Kajias could shoot them down without -the slightest risk, or—supposing their matchlocks also were useless, -or their powder too precious to waste on such game—kill them with -their knives with little danger to themselves. Why had they not done -it long ago? -</p> - -<p> -With equal difficulty Eveleen turned again towards them, where they -sat huddled in the bow, with the boatmen as a sort of neutrals -between, and Mr Firozji, with chattering teeth, crouching alone as -though disowned by all parties. The men in the bows were beginning to -lose something of their despairing attitude—taking an interest in -things again, and exchanging a word or two with one another. She could -see them, though in the driving rain she could not hear them; and she -tried to pierce the veil of moisture ahead, and see if land were -visible. But as yet she could see nothing but a grey expanse of angry -water, yellow in streaks with sand, and bearing on its bosom uprooted -trees and brushwood, with the grey sky overhead and the grey curtain -of rain between. She tried to collect her thoughts and devise some way -of getting Richard ashore—when they reached the shore. But what kind -of shore would it be—high and rocky, or the endless flat land over -which the flooded river must now be crawling relentlessly? How could -she decide till she knew? -</p> - -<p> -The end came suddenly—so suddenly that for the moment she thought she -must have been asleep, and missed what led up to it. The boatmen had -their poles out again, the keel was grating on ground of some sort, -and yet there was still nothing to be seen but the river and the rain. -But to the accustomed eyes of the Kajias more must have been visible, -for they were standing up and talking eagerly. She noticed -indifferently what big strapping fellows they were—picturesque -despite their drenched clothes and shapeless turbans, and the -ringlets, of which they were ordinarily so proud, lying limp and -straight on their shoulders and mingling with their beards. The absurd -reflection occurred to her that the rain must have washed them a -little clean, which would be a strange experience to them. One of them -turned round and kicked Mr Firozji, saying something to him, and the -old Parsee stumbled up from the deck and addressed Eveleen in his -beautiful Persian, which she found so difficult to understand. -</p> - -<p> -“The boat can go no farther—the water is shallow——” his words -tumbled over one another. “The boatmen will carry the Beebee ashore, -if she will promise not to shoot.” -</p> - -<p> -“Let them take the Sahib first,” said Eveleen promptly, then -hesitated. How could she let them carry Richard away out of her sight, -not knowing where they were taking him? Better go first herself. And -yet how could she know how roughly they might handle him if she and -her pistol were not there? “Won’t you go first yourself?” she asked -eagerly. “Then you can see that they put Major Ambrose down carefully, -and I will come last.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Firozji’s face was ashy. “I fear—I greatly fear,” he stammered. “I -have the conviction that they will kill me if I leave the Sahib and -the Beebee.” -</p> - -<p> -Clearly there was no help here. She must take the risk. She turned to -Abdul Qaiyam. “Watch over the Sahib, bearer; see that they carry him -properly on the charpoy. Fire the pistol if they are rough, and I will -come back. I can’t be any wetter than I am,” she added to herself, and -rather wondered that the captors should offer to put her ashore -instead of letting her wade. But when she was mounted on the shoulders -of a sturdy boatman, with another close at hand in case of accidents, -she saw how bad the footing was, and how confusing the currents even -in this shallow water. Just as they started she heard a resounding -splash, and looking round, was touched to see that Ketty had -deliberately thrown herself—or rather let herself—into the water -from the boat’s side, and was struggling after her, clutching the -scanty drapery of the second boatman. The water was up to the old -woman’s chest, but she pushed on bravely, and though the men on board -laughed, they did not attempt to stop her. -</p> - -<p> -How far the two men waded Eveleen did not know. The boat was only -dimly visible as a misty shape through the falling rain when they -reached land as suddenly as they had discerned it earlier. It was land -in the sense of not being covered with water, but it resembled nothing -so much as a sandbank left bare, though not dry, by the retreating -tide. Yet apparently it was not an island, for it seemed to rise -slightly on the side away from the boat, and to continue rising; and -when Eveleen felt her feet on firm ground once more, her spirits went -up with a bound. Anything was better than that dreadful boat and the -company it carried, and when the rain stopped—which it must do soon -now—they would quickly be dry and comfortable, and could look for -some village where there was food and shelter to be found. She said as -much to Ketty as they stood looking after the two men, whose forms -were soon swallowed up in the driving rain. Most incomprehensibly, -Ketty laughed; but before Eveleen could demand the reason, her -cheerful anticipations were rudely contradicted by the sound of a shot -from the boat, with cries and the muffled noise of a struggle. -Unheeding Ketty’s agonised entreaties and attempt to hold her fast, -she dashed into the water and began to wade back. The boat seemed -farther away than she had been—and surely the boatmen were poling her -off? Eveleen gave a great cry as the truth burst upon her, then -struggled on again, though with failing strength, hindered by her -clothes and the treacherous sand. Somehow or other she reached the -boat when the water was up to her shoulders, and clung convulsively to -the gunwale, shrieking to her husband to wake, to escape, to save -himself, to save her. Mr Firozji lay on the deck in a pool of blood, -and the murderers were already stripping off his clothes in search of -booty. In front of his master stood Abdul Qaiyam—a most unheroic -hero, with the pistol wavering in a shaking hand, and a face grey with -fear. A man with a tulwar sprang at Eveleen as she clung to the side, -and brought down his weapon with a horrible sweep. In terror she -relaxed her grasp just in time, and fell back into the water with a -loud cry of despair. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch22"> -CHAPTER XXII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE BELLE AND THE BAUBLE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">When</span> Eveleen came to the surface again—for she had found no footing -when she slipped from the boat’s side—she thought she must be -dreaming. On the gunwale above her stood Richard—a gaunt figure in -drenched pyjamas—laying about him furiously with a folded camp-chair. -She could hear his blows as they fell, and the dismayed cries of the -enemy, though she could not see the fight, and over the side of the -boat lay—dead or unconscious—the man who had struck at her with his -tulwar, his arms stretched limply as though trying to reach the water. -Apparently Richard’s onslaught had cleared a space about him on the -deck, for he turned suddenly, with heaving chest, and looked wildly at -the water—only to see his wife trying to regain her hold of the -gunwale. With a hasty exclamation he flung his weapon away, and -stooped to reach her. But she had the presence of mind to draw back. -</p> - -<p> -“No, Ambrose—jump! Jump, bearer!” and deliberately she loosed her -grasp and dropped off into the water again. As she had expected, -Richard was after her in a moment, quite uncomprehending, and -decidedly angry. -</p> - -<p> -“What did you go and do that for? I could have pulled you on board in -a minute. Now those fellows will make off with the boat.” -</p> - -<p> -“Let them. We’re better without it. There’s no safety for y’on board,” -gasped Eveleen, as she struggled to turn him in the other direction. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Will</i> you keep quiet? Any one would think you were determined to be -drowned. If only you won’t struggle, I can——” he had got his hand on -the edge of the boat again, and as Eveleen had done, removed it -hurriedly as some unseen person aimed a blow at it with the butt of a -matchlock. -</p> - -<p> -“Didn’t I tell you? The land, Ambrose, the land! or we’ll all be -killed if we ain’t drowned.” -</p> - -<p> -“This way, Sahib, this way!” came the despairing voice of Abdul -Qaiyam, standing on tiptoe some way farther in to get his mouth above -the water. “Destruction awaits your honour if you remain.” -</p> - -<p> -Convinced at last, Richard struck out in the direction of the voice, -but speedily found his feet on the ground. Then, partly dragging, -partly carrying his wife, he waded towards the shore. Eveleen turned -her head once, with the horrible feeling that the boat was pursuing -them to run them down. But the enemy were merely standing in a row -watching them, and not attempting to follow, though their ready -matchlocks and tulwars showed that they had no amiable feelings -towards the fugitives. Their powder must certainly be wet, or why did -they not fire? -</p> - -<p> -As the water grew shallower, the bearer came to his master’s help, and -between them they pulled Eveleen along, for she felt as if the last -horror had robbed her of every scrap of strength that remained. But a -warning cry from Ketty floated out to meet them as they waded in. -There was a sudden rush, and before their feet were even on dry land -they were struggling in the midst of a fresh crowd of assailants. -Eveleen had a vague impression of Richard snatching a tulwar from some -one and dealing tremendous blows in a scrimmage which seemed to have -arisen by magic, until a man with a heavy club struck at him from -behind, and he went down like a log. The fighting was so confused that -for a moment the assailants could not get at him with their swords, -and in that moment Eveleen had pushed into the <i>mêlée</i> and thrown -herself upon him, shielding his body with her own, so that no blow -could reach him but through her. She tasted the bitterness of death a -dozen times as the raging combatants tried to drag her away, abused -her, threatened her, but the more frantic their efforts, the tighter -she clung. She could hardly believe that they were really abstaining -from injuring her, but when they drew back, baffled and breathing -hard, she realised that she had not a wound, and made use of the -moment’s respite to interlace her fingers under Richard’s shoulders to -give her a better purchase. She gathered from the tones of the -assailants that when they were not cursing her to one another, they -were adjuring her to cease her useless resistance lest she should -share her husband’s fate, but as they spoke in an unknown tongue she -made no attempt to answer. Some of them seemed to give the matter up -at last, and went off, while the rest still stood round, talking -angrily, and she ventured to relax her strained hold for a moment, -wondering now—when the tension was slackened—what she could do when -the enemy laid aside their strange scruple, and really attacked her. -So little would do it—a cut from one of those keen-edged tulwars -would sever a wrist as easily as a finger, and she would be helpless, -and Richard at their mercy. -</p> - -<p> -There were fresh voices on the outskirts of the group. These men might -be less scrupulous, and once more she put forth all her strength in a -blind effort to hold—only to hold—Richard so that he might not be -touched. Even his head was covered by her wet hair, and she had -gathered his arms close to his sides when she clasped him first. He -was as safe as the frail rampart of her body could make him. But to -her immeasurable surprise, the sound that fell on her ears was not -that terrible whistle of the swung tulwar, but a voice—a voice -speaking English—a voice that she knew. -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Evie—it’s never you!” said the voice. “Great heavens, however -did you manage to get here?” -</p> - -<p> -“If it’s you, Tom Carthew,” she returned, in a voice muffled by her -hair, “call your murderous wretches off first, and then we’ll talk, if -you like.” -</p> - -<p> -“But they won’t do you no harm, ma’am, nor the gent neither—though -how you came——” -</p> - -<p> -“Do him no harm—when they have been doing their best to cut him to -pieces? No, go away. I’ll not move while there’s one of them about.” -</p> - -<p> -Some vigorous speaking on Carthew’s part, and the armed men melted -unwillingly away, only to form a fresh hostile circle at a rather -greater distance. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, ma’am, they’re well away from you, if you’ll let me help you up. -Captain Lennox won’t thank you——” -</p> - -<p> -“Captain Lennox! What in the world would I be doing with Captain -Lennox?” with asperity. “Don’t you know Major Ambrose when you see -him?” Eveleen sat up and put back her hair, but refused to rise. -</p> - -<p> -Tom Carthew might have objected with justice that he had been quite -unable to see Richard before, and could only see the back of his head -now, but he was looking helplessly from him to Eveleen. “Is it a -mistake, or have they played a trick on me?” he demanded slowly. “Were -you in the boat that was to be captured by the Codgers, ma’am—off an -island, nearer t’other side of the river than this one?” -</p> - -<p> -“We were captured, indeed—by some horrid treachery that I’ve not been -able to make out yet. Was it your doing, will you tell me? And how is -it”—with sudden recollection—“that you wouldn’t be dead, as we heard -you were?” -</p> - -<p> -“We needn’t go into that, ma’am—though I’ve often wished since that I -was. But that boat——” -</p> - -<p> -But Eveleen would not suffer any evasion. “We heard you were killed -because you refused to fire on us in the Agency—your own people. Was -it true or was it not?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not that I was killed,” sullenly. -</p> - -<p> -“Nor that you refused to fire, then. Tom Carthew, I never expected to -find you a traitor!” -</p> - -<p> -“You wait till you’re promised to have your nose and ears and eyelids -cut off, and be tied down and stuck out in the sun for the ants and -the hornets and the vultures and the pi dogs to finish, Miss Evie! See -if you wouldn’t fire then. And I didn’t go for to fire straight, -neither. You tell me if any soul in the Residency had a finger hurt -through my shooting.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I believe they did not,” reluctantly. “So you played both sides -false. And since then you have gone from bad to worse—laying plots -against your own old friends.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a cheat, I tell you—a nasty trick they’ve played me. I was bid -make a plan for catching Captain Lennox, the General’s nephew, so that -the Khan might hold him for a hostage and bargain with his uncle.” -</p> - -<p> -“And why would you be plotting against poor Captain Lennox—who never -did you any harm?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why but because they can make me do what they like now, just by -threatening to hand me over to the General?” -</p> - -<p> -“I see. Then there’s nothing you’d baulk at now? Indeed and I’m sorry -for you, Tom Carthew!” -</p> - -<p> -“That you may well be, ma’am—but there is something I wouldn’t do, -and these chaps know it. They didn’t dare ask me betray an English -lady into their hands—least of all you. So they choused me with the -tale that it was Captain Lennox they wanted. You believe that?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do, I do; it explains things. But d’ye see now, as you have got us -into this hole, it’s for you to get us out of it. And how will you do -that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now you’ve beat me, ma’am. Not that there’s anything for <i>you</i> to be -afraid of—in the way of bad treatment, that is——” -</p> - -<p> -“In what way, then? And what about Major Ambrose?” -</p> - -<p> -Carthew hesitated. “I’m afraid—as you’ve had all your trouble for -nothing, Miss Evie.” -</p> - -<p> -“What d’ye mean?” her voice rose to a shriek, and she flung herself on -her husband again. “Bad luck to you, Tom, to be giving me such a -fright! He ain’t dead a bit. I can feel his heart beat.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it might be all the same as if he was, ma’am—better, -perhaps——” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Will</i> you tell me what you mean? Why would they kill him, if that’s -what y’are driving at? If it’s a hostage they want, sure he’ll do them -every bit as well as Captain Lennox. The General would make no more -consequence of his nephew than he would of any other officer—sure you -know that yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -“It ain’t a hostage he wants at all, I see it now. Think it over for -yourself, ma’am—remembering that blue stone of yours that’s in the -Khan’s hands. He thinks if he hadn’t had it, the General would have -beat him and sent him out of the country with the rest of his family. -It’s done that much good to him, but not near all the good it might -do, because you’ve been contrary wishing it all the time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure if that’s all, I’ll wish it—and him—all the good in the world -except to beat the General. Fetch it here, Tom, and you will be -surprised at the good wishes I’ll pour over it and instil into it and -soak it with! Any mortal thing the gentleman can think of to ask for -he shall get, so far as it depends on me, if he’ll only lend us a boat -or some camels to get back to the army and a doctor with. But now be -quick, or I’ll go fast asleep and forget all the benefits I’m longing -to bestow on him!” -</p> - -<p> -Carthew hesitated again. “I take it you wouldn’t be willing to come to -the camp alone?” he asked slowly. -</p> - -<p> -She caught his meaning in an instant. “And leave Major Ambrose here? -Shame on you that you’d even ask me such a question! If he stays here, -I stay; and if I go to the camp or anywhere else, he goes too. And if -anything happens him—well, that blue stone will crack in pieces with -the ill wishes I’ll put on it before they’re done with me. And that’s -all I have to say to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“All right, ma’am; I had to have it from your own lips, you see. Now I -know what to say to these fellows, and to the Khan too. I mean to take -a high tone with him, after his dirty trick, and I think I see a -way—— But don’t hope for too much,” earnestly, “for if anybody ever -was in a hole, you and your good gentleman are—not to speak of me, -that don’t count.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen’s usual quickness of mind and speech was deserting her under -the pressure of fatigue, and she could not even find kind words in -which to reassure Carthew. She watched him dully as he went off to the -circle of Arabits, who had been looking on and listening suspiciously -as the colloquy proceeded, and spoke eagerly and confidentially to one -and another. Guessing that the alternative instantly present to their -minds was to rush upon Richard and rid themselves of him as they had -intended, she was ready to protect him again as she had done before, -but she could not bring her mind to bear upon less pressing issues. -The Arabits were not easy to convince, that was evident, and she -wondered whether they were trying to induce Carthew to keep her in -talk or distract her attention in some way while they made an end of -Richard—such a quick and easy thing to do, with so many against one! -But she had confidence, now as heretofore, in the streak of -faithfulness which formed part of the renegade’s weak nature. He might -betray his compatriots as a body, but the friend of his early days, -never! Her confidence was justified. When mind and body were alike -worn out, and she was almost dropping asleep as she sat, he returned -to say that the Arabits consented to carry Richard with them to the -camp, that Kamal-ud-din might have the responsibility of deciding what -was to be done with him. A camel-litter was brought forward—intended -for Eveleen’s own use—and Richard was lifted and laid upon the -cushions. It was the kind of long palanquin called in Persia a -<i>takhtrawan</i>, and Eveleen was able to climb in as well, and settle -herself in the place which otherwise would have been Ketty’s. Looking -out anxiously before the blinds were drawn down, she saw the two -servants accommodated—uncomfortably, but safely—behind two -camel-riders, and then the camels which bore the litter rose -grumblingly to their feet in response to the shaking of their -neck-chains of blue beads and tin bells by the drivers, and she had -time to remember that she was wet and cold, horribly hungry and most -incongruously thirsty, and in spite of all, consumed with sleep. But -how easy it would be for the enemy to keep watch upon her through the -semi-transparent grass blinds, and so find an opportunity of striking -at Richard! With infinite difficulty she crawled along the creaking, -swaying box until she could pillow her head upon her husband’s breast, -and then twisted a tress of her hair tightly round one of his buttons, -so that if any attempt was made to reach him, she must be disturbed. -Then at last she was able to resign herself to sleep, and in spite of -her cramped position, the shaking of the <i>takhtrawan</i>, the loud voices -outside, and the sun which presently blazed down upon the march, slept -peacefully for hours. She did not wake until the sudden kneeling of -the camels roused her to the knowledge that they had reached the camp, -where she naturally expected to face the man whose fate was perversely -linked with hers by the blue stone. But she found she was fortunate, -for Kamal-ud-din was not there at all. He had hastened back to his -army some distance to the north, and Tamas Sahib, who had so -successfully carried through the capture, was to proceed with his -captives to Umarganj at once. This meant that only the extreme heat of -the day was to be spent in the few small tents which had been left for -their accommodation, and which were like so many ovens on the -shadeless sand. Happily the storm had left the nullahs and hollows of -the neighbourhood well filled, and by means of Abdul Qaiyam, and with -the aid of Tom Carthew, Eveleen requisitioned a <i>salitah</i>, the strong -piece of canvas which, roped over all, serves to protect and hold -together the various packages making up a camel’s burden, and this, -dipped in water and hung over the <i>takhtrawan</i>, made it much cooler. -Richard remained in the same unconscious state, and a little -rice-water was all they could manage to force down his throat. Abdul -Qaiyam promised that when they halted for the night he would try to -make some broth, and with that Eveleen had to be content. While the -bearer attended to his master, she was thankful to submit her own -dishevelled person to Ketty’s ministrations, for it was torment to -have her hair hanging about her face in the heat. The brushes and -other things the old woman had pocketed—with whatever intention—came -in usefully now, and Eveleen felt that if only Ketty were dumb, she -could be quite fond of her for once. As things were, she was obliged -to pay for her services by listening to her grumbles. -</p> - -<p> -The halt was short enough, and the march that followed a long one, and -so it went on for several days. Afterwards Eveleen thought she must -have been light-headed with fatigue—so confused were her -recollections of those unending rides in the <i>takhtrawan</i>, punctuated -by brief periods of blessed repose on firm ground, from which she was -invariably roused the moment she had fallen asleep. Makeshift meals, -cooked in some mysterious way by Abdul Qaiyam and all tasting of sand; -distant glimpses of Carthew, looking anxious and careworn, but -conjuring up a reassuring nod when he found her looking at him; -perpetual grumbling from Ketty, for which there was only too much -excuse and over all the ever-present sense of threatening peril, which -kept her always in a fever of devising expedients to safeguard Richard -and not let him out of her sight—this was the waking history of those -days for Eveleen. She did not know whether to be thankful or alarmed -that Richard should remain in a state of coma, nor whether she ought -to try to rouse him or not. The blow on the head had not fractured the -skull—of so much she and the bearer were able to assure one -another—but whether there was concussion they were not surgeons -enough to know. On the whole, it seemed better to leave the patient -undisturbed—save by the incessant noise and movement going on around -him—and trust that nature might be healing him in her own way. -</p> - -<p> -How long they took to reach Umarganj Eveleen would have found it very -difficult to say. It might have been a week, it might have been -more—or less—before the joyful shouts of the escort announced that -they were within sight of their journey’s end, and she peeped through -a private spy-hole she had discovered and enlarged in the grass blind -to see what the place was like. There was nothing magical and -mysterious about it as there had been about the vanished Sultankot; it -was simply a straggling mud town, dominated by a mud fort. It was -surprising where its builders had managed to get so much mud in such a -dry region, but she supposed they made their bricks in the rainy -season, and piled them up hurriedly on the first fine day, lest they -should all melt into mud again. She noticed that Carthew led the way -round the town, so that they could reach the fort without passing -through more than a small part of it, and that he was evidently -anxious to get in as quickly as possible. The people were largely -defrauded of their spectacle, for only a few were aware of the arrival -in time to rush to their house-tops, where Eveleen heard them -chattering excitedly overhead as the camel-litter went swinging by. -There was some discussion when the gate of the fort was reached, -between Carthew and a stout negro who was waiting there—clearly an -official of some importance—on the subject of the disposal of the -prisoners, as it seemed, and it appeared that Carthew won, for he took -matters into his own hands and bade the camel-drivers follow him, -while his vanquished opponent strolled away with a contemptuous cock -of his nose, as Eveleen called it, which nature had rendered wholly -unnecessary. -</p> - -<p> -The place in which Eveleen found herself, when she had crawled out of -the litter, which was taken from off its camels and carried bodily -inside, was apparently a kind of guard-room, cool enough with its -thick walls and high roof of beaten mud supported on wooden beams, but -open along the whole of one side, where a series of squat blunted -arches led out upon a verandah, which in its turn gave upon what -looked like the court of the guard—to judge by the number of stalwart -Arabits in all stages of dress and equipment who were strolling about -or preparing their food or sitting peacefully on similar verandahs. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll send some of the slaves in to clean the place up a bit for you, -ma’am,” said Carthew, his look of trouble more pronounced than ever, -“and some stuff to serve for a curtain to the arches. There’s <i>chiks</i> -you can let down till it comes, but for any sake don’t you go for to -set a foot beyond ’em. And don’t you have nothing to say to anybody -that comes out of the zenana gate opposite”—he indicated a massive -iron-bound portal, guarded by sentries sitting or lounging about it, -on the other side of the courtyard,—“nor put your lips to any food, -or sherbet, or what not, that may be brought you out of there, on no -account whatever. And I’ll go straight to the Khan—who’s got here -before us, after all—and do what I can to put a little decency into -him, if he kills me for it!” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke so strongly, almost savagely, that Eveleen felt her fears -rising again. “Won’t you tell me now, what is it y’are afraid of?” she -asked timidly, for her. -</p> - -<p> -“If I must, I will, when I come back. I’m leaving two men that I can -trust on your verandah here, and you keep behind the <i>chiks</i>, and -never leave your good gentleman for a minute—but that I know you -won’t do. And if I don’t come back, you’ll know that traitor though I -may be—I did my best for you, Miss Evie.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed and I know it now, Tom, and I thank you for it with all my -heart, and so would Major Ambrose if he could speak.” -</p> - -<p> -She held out her hand, and he wrung it and went off. Abdul Qaiyam and -one of the guards let down the <i>chiks</i>, and in the semi-darkness -Eveleen retired to the litter again, while two half-starved, -furtive-looking youths came in with inadequate brooms and swept the -more obvious dirt from the middle of the floor into the corners. Then -they departed, and there remained the problem of arranging the room, -with the aid of one charpoy, so doubtful in appearance that Eveleen -declined to make use of it, and the cushions from the litter. These -were spread on the <i>salitah</i> on the floor, and Richard laid on -them—across a corner, in which Eveleen determined to fix her abode, -with the litter and the charpoy as flanking defences on either hand. -What Carthew’s vague warnings portended she could not divine, but she -had a horror of being snatched away unawares and leaving Richard -unprotected. -</p> - -<p> -It was some time before Carthew appeared, and then he was accompanied -by men bearing trays of food—each viand occupying the exact middle of -an unnecessarily large tray,—which were received from them with joy -by the bearer, and surveyed with approval even by Ketty. But while the -servants were busy squabbling over the best way of arranging the food, -Carthew was stooping across Richard to speak to Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“It was just as you thought, ma’am. My party had orders to kill Major -Ambrose, but on no account to lay a finger on yourself. If it hadn’t -been they were afraid of doin’ harm to you, they’d have killed him a -dozen times over. You saved his life when you threw yourself upon -him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course. Why else would I have done it? Well, and what harm will -poor Major Ambrose ever have done to the Khan that he should hate him -so? Why is it at all?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you remember what I told you about that blue stone of yours, -ma’am? They call you the Woman of the Seal, and the Khan thinks he -won’t have his full luck till you two are together again—till you -have the seal and he has you. So—if you’ll excuse me mentioning -it—his notion was to give you back the stone and take you into his -zenana.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure the poor man little guesses the sort of time he’d have!” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad you can take it like this, ma’am!” -</p> - -<p> -The reproving tone sobered Eveleen. “But you can’t mean—it’s too -ridiculous entirely—that a man can propose to himself deliberately to -murder a woman’s husband, and then marry her himself?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s their way here,” apologetically. “It’s a—a sort of compensation -to the lady, if you understand me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not, and you can tell your friend the Khan so.” -</p> - -<p> -“It ain’t my fault, ma’am, believe me. I’m doing my best for -you—honest. I told the Khan you belonged to a particular tribe of -English whose women were uncommonly sought after for wives, on account -of their being so faithful.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, and that’s one way of discouraging him!” -</p> - -<p> -“But I told him they were so wrapped up in their husbands that if the -husband was killed the wife went and died, ma’am.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would—I know I would!” agreed Eveleen. “That was very true, Tom. -And was he convinced?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, ma’am; but I’m sure it made an -impression on him.” The luckless man refrained, naturally enough, from -adding that he had assured Kamal-ud-din the lady’s husband was at the -point of death, and if he were allowed to die in peace, and his wife -to tend him to the last and mourn for him a certain number of days, -the conventions of her tribe would be satisfied, and its daughter free -to marry again. He had a suspicion that Eveleen could hardly be -expected to accept this point of view. “If you’ll remember to keep -that up if he should insist on coming in here——” -</p> - -<p> -“Keep that up? He’ll hear a good deal more than that if he forces -himself upon me! Tell me now—will I starve myself a little, just to -look more like dying?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t, ma’am. You may want all your strength any time—there’s -no knowing. Not but what I’ve done all I could to frighten the -Khan—swearing to him that if he lays a finger on you the General will -cut him up into little pieces, and all that. But you can’t tell.” -</p> - -<p> -“I understand. I’ll know what to do.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then good-bye for the present, ma’am. I’ll do my best to get word to -you first if he does think of comin’ this way, but I mayn’t have the -chance.” He went out dolefully, and Eveleen made a face after him. -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are a faithful creature, I believe, but I greatly wish y’were a bit -more cheerful!” she said. “Just when I’d like a little help in keeping -up my spirits——” -</p> - -<p> -Before she could finish the sentence, his face was poked in again. -“Ma’am, he’s comin’ now! For Heaven’s sake, keep cool, and remember -I’m nothing but the interpreter!” -</p> - -<p> -The accents were so full of terror that Eveleen felt her heart sink. -But only for a moment. She stooped over her unconscious husband, and -touched his forehead with infinite tenderness. “Ah, my dear, wouldn’t -I fight for myself if need be? and have I not you to fight for as -well, when you’d be fighting for me if you could? Don’t be afraid now; -your wife is by your side.” -</p> - -<p> -She put her hand for a moment to her waist, to make sure that the -little dagger there was ready in case of need. She and Abdul Qaiyam -had both lost their pistols either in leaving the boat or in the -struggle on the sand, but she had discovered that the old man -possessed a dagger, and demanded it summarily. She had carried it ever -since, safely concealed in the folds of her dressing-gown, and had -trained herself sternly not to betray its presence by letting her -fingers wander in that direction. Now she assured herself it could be -drawn in a flash, and stood waiting. It would look more unconcerned if -she remained seated in the Khan’s presence, but it would be easier to -take her at a disadvantage before she could rise from the ground. -</p> - -<p> -There was a warning cry outside, and then the blind was lifted, and -three men came in—Tom Carthew, the negro who had been waiting at the -gate, and a youth richly dressed and jewelled, with a handsome -effeminate face—not unprepossessing in appearance, but like all his -family bearing the marks of dissipation. Eveleen told herself -triumphantly that he shrank under her gaze of righteous indignation. -She did not realise that in the semi-darkness of the room, her white -figure and wrathful eyes might be alarming. She bowed curtly as he -approached, then her hand flashed out. -</p> - -<p> -“No further, please. Stop there,” and though the hand was empty, -Kamal-ud-din stopped short a yard from the bed, to look down curiously -at Richard’s gaunt form and sharpened features. -</p> - -<p> -“He is certainly very near death,” he muttered to Tom Carthew—much to -the latter’s relief. “Tell the Beebee she has nothing to fear. Her -husband shall die in peace, and be honourably buried.” -</p> - -<p> -Exercising a wide discretion, Carthew gave the first part of the -message only, adding various polite assurances for the sake of -verisimilitude. Eveleen’s stern aspect did not relax. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell him I expected nothing less,” she said, which—giving the Khan’s -well-known magnanimity and benevolence as a reason—Carthew did. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell the Beebee I am about to restore her what should never have been -taken from her,” said Kamal-ud-din—adding, with an unpleasant laugh, -“What one husband steals, another gives back,” and Carthew rejoiced -that his master had chosen to speak in Arabit rather than Persian. -With obvious reluctance to let it out of his grip, the negro produced -the Seal of Solomon, still suspended from its steel chain, and held it -out for Eveleen to take. She made the slightest gesture of rebuke, and -motioned to Abdul Qaiyam, who brought forward one of the trays on -which the food had been sent in, and receiving the pendant, presented -it respectfully to his mistress. For the first time her eyes ceased to -rest coldly on the Khan, evidently to his relief, as she stooped and -laid the Seal on Richard’s breast, passing the chain round his neck. -</p> - -<p> -“I receive the trust as an honour, tell his Highness,” she said to -Carthew, “and I place his treasure in the safest spot known to me. As -long as I live, and Major Ambrose lives, no harm can come to it. If it -is removed or injured, the fault will not be ours.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tell the Beebee she can be at ease,” said Kamal-ud-din, rather -hastily. “No harm can befall her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tell his Highness I thank him for his promise of protection, and -won’t detain him longer,” said Eveleen, and to her relief as much as -his own, Kamal-ud-din went. She heard no more of him till the next -day, when Carthew came to ask whether she needed anything. -</p> - -<p> -“You did fine yesterday, ma’am!” he said admiringly—“almost -frightened the Khan, one might say.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure I’m glad ’twas the right thing,” she answered wearily. “’Twas -all I could do not to break down in the middle, and throw myself at -his feet, and cry and entreat him to let us go.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad you didn’t, ma’am. His Highness was all taken aback. He has -gone away to his army quite meek, as you might say. In fact, I have -hopes of his letting you and the Major and your servants go away -quietly when he comes again, but don’t you build too much upon it.” -</p> - -<p> -It was well for Eveleen if she did not, for Carthew was too sanguine. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch23"> -CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">BRIAN TO THE RESCUE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Visiting</span> his various friends, and hearing all that had happened -since the battle and his wound, Brian passed a pleasant three days at -Khanpur. Nor was his enjoyment sensibly mitigated by the thunderstorm -on his third night there—when he should have been returning to -Qadirabad,—which kept him a prisoner for twenty-four hours more. In -fact, he assured himself comfortably that ’twas a good thing entirely -it had come, since it would show Evie the absurdity of her plan of -getting down to Bab-us-Sahel before the floods began. Another pleasant -idle day, rejoicing in the temporary coolness of the air after the -rain, and he started back with a column returning for supplies and -bringing a few sick to the base hospital. Great was his astonishment, -when he rode up to the Residency in the morning, to find the servants -smoking on the verandah in an undress which made it plain that no -master was at hand. Their astonishment equalled his own, but they were -past-masters in the art of keeping up appearances, and in an -incredibly short space of time hookahs had been huddled out of sight, -<i>pagris</i> donned or properly twisted, and the garments of office -hurried on. The butler, as became his importance, was the first who -was in a position to greet the young Sahib. “Sahib and Beebee done -gone,” was the burden of his reply to every question asked him, and at -last Brian gave up the attempt to obtain further information; and -bidding his own servant get his things in, and see after breakfast and -a bath, rode round to the hospital to question the surgeon. The -surgeon received him with ill-timed jocularity. -</p> - -<p> -“Ha, ha! so your sister has stole a march on you, young man—eh? No -nice lazy time for you this morning—find a boat and set off after -her; that’s about the ticket, ain’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“If the river is low enough. How in the world would she contrive to -start yesterday?” -</p> - -<p> -“Man alive, not yesterday! They went three evenings ago—two days -after you left.” -</p> - -<p> -“Three evenings ago? But that was before the storm! Will you tell me, -was she mad enough to start down the river with that coming on?” -</p> - -<p> -“They would take shelter somewhere. They would have got a good way, -and it may not have been as bad lower down as it was here.” But the -doctor’s startled face belied his comforting words. “Upon my soul, -Delany, I hope they didn’t come in for it on the open river. The rain -was enough to swamp any boat.” -</p> - -<p> -“And how would it be better if they were cot in a narrow channel—with -the water sweeping over banks and islands and everything? ’Twas a -great storm, I tell you. We have had to go miles and miles round -coming back here—with lakes and rivers where there was dry land on -our way out.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, don’t I know it was a great storm—with three of the hospital -tents blown away bodily, and the whole staff working all night in the -wet to get the sick under cover? You can see for yourself how the -river has risen—look at the trees there, standing in the water.” -Suddenly realising that he was not very consoling, he changed his -tone. “But it don’t follow it was as bad where they were. They had -good boats and strong crews, and an armed guard, so there were plenty -of hands if help was needed. Old Firozji from the Bazar was going -down, and offered them to share his boat, but they had one to -themselves after all.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s how my sister managed it, then. I wondered who had I to thank -for helping her play the fool in this style. I wouldn’t envy the -feelings of any man that helped her get away—now.” -</p> - -<p> -“’Suppose you are alluding to me,” said the surgeon gruffly. “Well, -you know your sister as well as I do, and you can tell whether she’s -much inclined to listen to advice that don’t fall in with her wishes. -She was determined to get off, thinking you’d be following -immediately. And I confess, the weather had been so sultry for two or -three days, I never thought of a storm except as a relief—quickly -come and quickly gone, you know. But this one took a whole day to come -up, and lasted proportionately. But then, as I say, it may not have -been as bad where they were. At any rate, we have heard nothing of any -disaster, and you know how quickly the natives get wind of that sort -of thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure they must have been miles and miles away by that time! -Suppose they were wrecked on an uninhabited part of the shore, or one -of those desolate islands in the middle of the river—how would the -news possibly get about? Well, you were right when you said ’twas a -fast boat and an early start for me, for I must be off after ’em at -once. Think of it! Ambrose helpless, and my sister alone with those -blackguards of boatmen—for the old Parsee would be no good,—not to -mention the Codgers on one bank, and Kamal-ud-din’s people anywhere on -t’other.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought Kamal-ud-din was penned in at Umarganj?” -</p> - -<p> -“Penned in he may have been, but he’s got out of the pen—broke back -somehow to the river again. The General was very anxious about it—and -he would be worse if he knew this. I was greatly displeased when he -bid me escort my sister to Bab-us-Sahel—unless she gave up the -thought of the journey of her own free will—before going back to -duty, but I’m thankful now! Not that the old lad would have been hard -on me for going off after her, but I wouldn’t like to have exceeded my -leave. Can you coax the right boat out of any one for me? If only -there’d be a steamer in just now!” -</p> - -<p> -“Wait a minute. You can’t go rushing off like this. I’ll send a <i>chit</i> -to the Marine Superintendent to tell him what you want, and say we’ll -both be round there after breakfast. But before you start off, we’ll -call upon old Firozji’s brothers in the Bazar. They may have had news -from him, and then we shall know it’s all right. Your quad. is -tired—eh? I can lend you a tat—or there’s that little Arab of your -sister’s, just come down by boat from Sahar. Do him good to stretch -his legs gently a bit. She must have forgot the General said he might -come down with the cavalry horses when she went off in such a hurry.” -</p> - -<p> -“We might find out something, I suppose,” said Brian wretchedly, “but -I don’t like losing a moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course we may. And what’s the good of going off without getting -hold of all the information you can? If I thought it was any good, I -should say stay and eat your breakfast quietly, and let me go to the -Bazar, but I know it wouldn’t be.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a scrap!” agreed Brian, and would barely consent to snatch a -mouthful of breakfast while Bajazet was being saddled and brought -round. As they rode to the Bazar, the surgeon was full of cheerful -anticipations. Of course Mr Firozji would have sent word to his -partners of his safety—he was a fool not to have thought of it -before—the Parsees were well known for their family affection. But -when Mr Firozji’s brother appeared, with many bows and smiles, to -enquire the pleasure of the honourable gentlemen, he had nothing to -tell. Certainly he had not expected any messenger—the boats would -have been far beyond the limits within which the storm was likely to -be dangerous. He was quite sure his brother was safe and well. Had it -been otherwise he would have felt it here, in the heart—slapping an -organ which was well protected by many layers of adipose tissue. He -did not look to hear anything until his brother had reached -Bab-us-Sahel—why should he? And the young Sahib was alarmed about his -sister—feared she might have been wrecked? That was natural, but—if -he might be pardoned the word—foolish. How could she possibly have -journeyed in greater safety than under the care of his brother and the -protection of his guard? -</p> - -<p> -“Would it be a military guard?” asked Brian. -</p> - -<p> -The Parsee was voluble in his disclaimer. No, no; the merchandise on -board the boats was immensely valuable to the poor merchants whose -means of livelihood it was, but of no importance to the Government, so -that a guard could not be asked for. Mr Firozji had hired a -dozen—er—respectable men, well known to him for their courage and -fidelity, and armed them with swords and shields for the journey. -</p> - -<p> -“Not much good against the Codgers’ matchlocks,” remarked Brian, when -they had taken their leave. The surgeon was meditating, and did not -respond for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Did it strike you there was anything queer about the business?” he -burst out suddenly. “Think!” -</p> - -<p> -“It struck me the ‘er—respectable men’ would probably be some of our -late opponents. That was all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you missed something far more fishy. Why was there no military -guard? It might not have been granted simply to protect Parsee -merchandise, but for an officer and his wife it would have been -forthcoming in a moment. The General would break any man that refused -it. Then why wasn’t it asked for?” -</p> - -<p> -“How would I know? Because my sister refused to wait while the -application was made possibly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly, but why should old Fatty there not have said so? Of course -old Firozji may have thought his kind of guard would come cheaper, and -that Ambrose and his wife would be such valuable prizes for the -Codgers that he himself could slip away unnoticed if there was a -scrimmage. But this is all nonsense. It’s most unlikely there has been -any scrimmage at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course; why would there be?” asked Brian dreamily. “No doubt the -old sinner is sailing happily down the river, congratulating himself -on the money he’s saved. But all the same,” inconsequently, “I’m -certain something has happened. I have a feeling——” -</p> - -<p> -“So have all of us when we are anxious, but ninety-nine times out of a -hundred it all ends in smoke, and we are precious proud afterwards to -think we never had a second’s doubt all along. But tell you what. You -take one of the General’s spies with you—to look out for things -generally and cross-question anybody you may meet. If old Puggy ain’t -out on duty, he’s the man you want. A bullet chipped a bit off his -heel at Mahighar—he was not on the field in the way of business, but -just looking on at the show—and he’s been laid up since. But I know -he is out again, and he’s an uncommonly downy old bird. I’ll hunt him -up while you get your traps together.” -</p> - -<p> -The search was successful, and when Brian and his bearer arrived at -the boat the doctor was there in triumph with an undersized elderly -native of indeterminate features and an expression of guileless -simplicity. It was almost impossible to believe that this was one of -the General’s famous secret agents, of whom he boasted that several -were in each camp of his enemies, and not a few in their very -households, but there was his name to prove it. He possessed a -complicated and sonorous name of his own, but Sir Harry had a short -way with such luxuries. He dubbed the man Puggy [<i>Pagi</i>, tracker] as -his tracker <i>par excellence</i>, and from such august lips the -undignified appellation was accepted as an honour and flaunted with -pride. Colonel Welborne, whose permission had to be obtained for him -to accompany Brian, was interested in the young man’s journey, and -came down to see them off. -</p> - -<p> -“Hope you’ll find everything all right,” he said, “but in case of -accidents I have given you a sergeant’s guard of sepoys in Hindustani -dress, [mufti] so that you won’t attract undue attention. If the -Codgers take you by surprise, they may come in useful. But look you -here: no fighting—unless you have to extricate yourself from an -ambuscade, that is. If you find your sister is in the hands of the -Codgers—even if she is in the camp which you are outside of, don’t -try to rescue her on your own account. You can’t do it, and it will -only lead to her being killed or carried off into the hills. And if -you get yourself killed, how are we ever to know what has happened to -her? Just let Puggy do the talking and manage things his own way. If -she is in the camp he will find out without their knowing it, and -he’ll bring you off peacefully to go back and rescue her another day. -D’ye understand me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do,” said Brian reluctantly; “and I’m greatly obliged to you for -sparing him, sir. But listen, now: if I find her marooned on an -island, it’s myself will take the business in hand, and Puggy may go -hang!” -</p> - -<p> -No degree of anxiety could depress Brian’s tongue, though his heart -might be heavy, and the little group of friends on the -landing-stage—at the very foot of the cliff now—praised his -cheerfulness to one another as they sped him on his way with good -wishes. After all, nothing untoward might have happened; he would -catch up his sister and go down with her to Bab-us-Sahel, then return -by land with his guard—since by that time the river was fairly -certain to be impossible for small boats. -</p> - -<p> -The first day and a half of the voyage was unimportant, as was only -natural, since whatever had happened must presumably have happened -lower down. After that, when they had arrived at the stretch of river -which the boats might be supposed to have reached on the night of the -storm, a close watch was kept on the right-hand bank—the scene of the -activities of the Kajias. Boats going down the river would be inclined -to keep more or less to this side, and there was no apparent reason -for crossing to the other, though it also must be searched in the -course of the return voyage if no traces had been found earlier. A -forlorn cluster of shrubs and low trees, rising again out of the water -which had almost submerged them, could tell no tale, for the floods -had washed away all signs of the boatmen’s evening meal on the island -in the shelter of which the boats had been moored. A day after it had -been passed, when Brian was beginning to fear that the whole flotilla -had been swamped without leaving a trace, a trace appeared at last, -though not a cheering one. On a sandy beach, below the flood-mark, -half in and half out of the water, lay a battered boat, its mast and -its cabin gone. Brian saw it first, and his inarticulate shout -summoned the tracker and the soldiers to his side. It seemed to him -ages before his boatmen, poling carefully, brought their craft as near -as it was safe to go, and he could let himself overboard and swim to -the derelict. He did not notice that Puggy lingered to say something -to the havildar in charge of the sepoys before joining him. There was -nothing to show whether the boat was that they sought, save that it -had evidently been fitted up for European use; but though supports and -hooks remained, all the fittings were gone. It might be that the water -had swept it nearly bare, or it might have been systematically -gutted—there was nothing to show which, save a large dark stain on -the deck. Brian bent down to look at this, touched it, and turned -mutely to the tracker for his opinion. As he lifted his head a slight -movement among the bushes fringing the beach attracted his attention, -and he realised that he and his companion were the target for a dozen -or more matchlocks with fierce faces behind them. He was -thunder-struck, but Puggy smiled triumphantly, and Brian saw why. The -seeming peaceful passengers in their own boat had suddenly produced -muskets, and were lining the gunwale in warlike guise. It struck Brian -that if shooting began, they two were infallibly doomed, but the -tracker was so proud of his precaution that he had not the heart to -spoil his pleasure. The moral effect was certainly all that could be -desired, for a wild-looking elderly man, with a red-dyed beard, stood -up in the bushes, and demanded with righteous indignation— -</p> - -<p> -“Why does the Sahib seek to steal what Allah and the river have given -us?” -</p> - -<p> -“Suffer me to answer, Sahib,” said the tracker hurriedly; then to the -chief, “The Sahib seeks news of his sister, who embarked with her -husband before the storm in such a boat as this. Is there word of -her?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay,” was the reply. “The boat drifted ashore as ye see it—broken -and empty. Of any Sahib or Beebee we know nothing.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nor of whose blood this is on the deck?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing. How should we? Water has washed it, sun has dried it, maybe -many times over. There was no dead body on board—that at least we -know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Here is a bullet sticking in the woodwork and another stain of blood. -Are any of your men wounded?” -</p> - -<p> -“Have I not said there was no one on board, dead or alive?” The -chief’s tone betrayed his contempt for the very palpable trap set for -him. “How then could they fire on my men?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yet this bullet belongs to a Farangi pistol, and the Sahib’s guns are -all gone. Here is the rack in which they were placed, ready to his -hand if he desired to shoot at a pelican or a crocodile, after the -manner of sahibs; but it is empty. The guns could not be washed away -and the rack left.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, but”—triumphantly—“this Sahib was sick, and his guns were not -set out in the rack. They were——” sudden confusion as he realised -how hopelessly he had given himself away, then a show of violent -indignation to cover it. “They were washed away, I say. Who are you, O -base-born one, to cast doubt upon my words?” -</p> - -<p> -With extraordinary self-command for a native, Puggy ignored the -attempt to lead him aside into personalities—ignored also the chief’s -self-betrayal, and spoke sadly and meekly. “Truly I am nothing—the -meanest of the attendants on the great and rich Sahib here, who seeks -news of his sister. So much wealth would he pour out on any camp that -had received her and shown her kindness that the poorest man in it -would wear silk and kincob thereafter.” -</p> - -<p> -The chief was interested—dangerously interested. His eyes wandered to -the line of sepoys, then to his own men, very visible now in the -bushes in the excitement of listening to what was going on. Clearly he -was calculating whether the greater numbers on his side would -counterbalance the weight of the soldiers’ superior weapons if he made -a sudden dash. The matter was difficult to decide. “I perceive that -this Sahib is one of the Bahadar Jang’s young men—so handsome and -noble of aspect is he,” he temporised. “Is it true that he is also -rich?” -</p> - -<p> -“He could take up the riches of Delhi in one hand,” was the boastful -answer. “And to his wealth he adds a yet more admirable prudence. All -his possessions he confided, before starting on this journey, to a -virtuous friend of his father’s, who has sworn upon the Gospel not to -part with so much as an anna unless the Sahib presents himself to ask -for it in person.” -</p> - -<p> -“There are messages to be sent—letters.” -</p> - -<p> -“The friend is pledged to pay no attention to them. After the lapse of -a certain time, he will employ the riches in building tombs—greater -and more magnificent than the wonder of Agra—to the memory of the -Sahib and his sister, where women desiring sons may come and entreat -the lady’s favour.” -</p> - -<p> -“To my mind it is better to enrich the living than build tombs for the -dead,” said the baffled chief sourly. -</p> - -<p> -“It is the Sahib’s pleasure, and who shall gainsay it? But far more -gladly would he bestow of his wealth on any who could restore to him -his sister living, or even tell him where she may be found.” -</p> - -<p> -“The rain of riches passes over the field of the poverty-stricken, and -leaves on it not a single drop. Since we have nothing to sell that you -and your Sahib desire to buy, leave us our poor wreck that the waters -have brought us, and go your way—unless,” with a fresh gleam of hope -and covetousness, “the wealthy and high-born Sahib will deign to visit -our tents?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, he is bent on an errand of life and death. He has no time to -pass the coolness of sherbet over his tongue, nor to exchange sweet -phrases with a host,” was the answer, much to Brian’s disappointment. -He remonstrated vigorously with the tracker when they had left the -derelict—which was far too much damaged for them to think of salving -it—and returned to their own boat. It was quite certain that this -little knot of Kajias knew more than they would tell; what was more -likely than that the passengers from the stranded boat were at hand in -their very camp? Puggy answered patiently and reprovingly. -</p> - -<p> -“Surely the eyes of the presence are blinded by his grief, or he would -see that the Beebee cannot be in this camp. For see the chief, that -son of Iblis with whom we have just spoken—whose meat is covetousness -and his drink extortion—did he not desire to bring the presence -thither, in the hope of falling treacherously upon him and holding him -to ransom? And if the Beebee were there already, would the chief not -show, for a lure to the presence, some writing from her hand, were it -but a scrawl with a blackened stick upon a broken board from the -boat?—or if she were dead, then some jewel from her body, or even a -tress of her hair, that the presence might recognise his truth? But he -brings forward nothing; therefore it is certain she is not there. Yet -he knows more than he pretends, as the presence says.” -</p> - -<p> -“That he does! ’Twas a bad slip when he admitted he knew the Major -Sahib was sick.” -</p> - -<p> -“Was that all the presence noticed? Nay,” as Brian turned and looked -at him, “did he not note the <i>kurti</i> [long coat] worn by the chief, -that it was of rich silk such as the Parsees wear, and that it had -been washed? Or that one of the men who stood up in the bushes had in -his girdle such a knife as the Farangis use at table, with a haft of -ivory nearly as long as the blade? There was more in the boat when it -came ashore than there is now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then what do you make out?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay, Sahib, how can I speak with certainty? All I can say is that if -the Beebee was on board, and was saved when the boat ran aground, she -must have been carried away quickly to the hills. But it is not clear -to my mind that she was there at all. It is possible, but I have seen -nothing to prove it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if not,” cried Brian quickly, “she must have been washed -overboard before the boat came ashore—and that I won’t believe. No; -they have carried her off into the hills, and Heaven only knows what -has happened the poor Major. Sick and helpless—I fear the unfortunate -fellow must have been drowned, and she would be left without a -defender. Good heavens!” -</p> - -<p> -“Let not the presence grieve so sadly. If he will, let him put this -humble one ashore a day’s journey up the river, and he will make his -way in disguise into the hills, to the dwellings of the Kajias, and -sojourn among them until he has made certain either that the Beebee is -there or that she has never been there. Then he will bring word to the -presence.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what will I be doing all that time?” cried Brian. “And what will -be happening her if she has been carried some other way? No, we’ll -make all speed back to Qadirabad, and I’ll get the General to give me -a column strong enough to overawe the Kajias and force the truth out -of ’em. Then we’ll know what we’re doing.” -</p> - -<p> -“As the presence pleases,” said Puggy politely, but offering no -opinion as to the wisdom of Brian’s plan. While they were talking the -boatmen had been poling their vessel out into the stream again, and -now Brian called for the headman, and promised lavish rewards for -every hour gained on the time usually taken up-stream. The men did -their best, but the current was strong and the wind generally in the -wrong direction, and Brian chafed grievously at the slow progress -made. But at last the round tower of Qadirabad came in sight again, -and to his great joy he learned from the first officer he met that the -General had returned from Khanpur and taken up his quarters in the -Fort, Lord Maryport having now definitely appointed him Governor of -Khemistan. But the General, when Brian presented himself, was worried, -even testy. -</p> - -<p> -“You should have let Puggy do as he proposed,” he said sharply. “Send -a column to stir up that wasps’ nest in the hills? Not a bit of it! No -man esteems and admires your sister more than I do, but I can’t -sacrifice the army to her. Here is Kamal-ud-din playing about in every -direction, just beyond my reach. Now he has started a brother—only -just out of the nursery, they say,—and the two young rascals are -kicking up a fine dust between them. All the bad elements in the -country are rallying to ’em, of course—whether they have submitted to -us or not. The thing is beginning to spread to this side of the river, -too—there’s a very pretty plot brewing in Qadirabad itself. I have my -spies, happily, and can stamp it out when I want to, so as long as we -are on the watch, the disaffected may as well be plotting as anything -else—keep ’em out of mischief. But I give you the credit of being -able to see for yourself that this ain’t a time for detaching columns -on private adventures.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you could extend my leave, sir—let me go with Puggy and do what I -could, I mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“And be recognised in no time, and give me another set of murderers to -hunt up and hang? No, my good fellow; when you joined the army it was -to serve her Majesty—not to go off on wild-goose chases after your -own female relatives,—and while I am above ground you’ll do it. It -may not be long. Over and over again of late I have thought I was on -the march. I can walk again now—but still groggy on my pins, as you -see. Incessant labour in this heat is killing to sixty and over, and -no doubt Welborne will give you all the leave you want.” -</p> - -<p> -He turned abruptly to his papers again in a spasm of self-pity, and -Brian could not but capitulate unconditionally. “Don’t, -General—don’t, for Heaven’s sake, be talking like that! What in the -world would we all do without you? Sure Khemistan would be lost, and -the army with it.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s that already, according to the Bombay papers,” gruffly. “Now -that Bayard’s experienced wisdom is withdrawn, the army is as good as -sacrificed to the incapable old ruffian at its head. Believe me if you -can, Delany, those fellows are making pets of the Khans—calling ’em -‘fallen Princes’ and setting ’em up as saints—and blackguarding me -and my glorious soldiers high and low. Bayard is in it, of course—not -behind it, for he’s a decent chap, though weak, weak as water—but -when the <i>journalistic gentlemen</i> get round him and play upon his -vanity he’ll say anything, and end by believing it himself. The -fellows are positively gloating over Kamal-ud-din and his proceedings, -I tell you. They butter him up as a heaven-taught commander, adored by -his people, the inspirer of a sacred war to expel the invaders, who -have the misfortune to be led by a disreputable old lunatic who threw -away his last chance of success when jealousy induced him to rid -himself of his good genius, Colonel Bayard! They recount my -dispositions and suggest how he ought to meet ’em, and all their -articles are translated and sent up here for the edification of -Kamal-ud-din and his fellow-plotters. But I’ll knock the chap out yet, -no matter who his treacherous backers may be, if only this old carcase -of mine will hold out for one more month!” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course it will, General, and for many years to come! You have -shown me where my duty lies—though it breaks my heart to leave my -sister to all the trouble she may be in. I cannot forget”—half -apologetically—“what she’d be to me as a little child. No mother -could have been more tender—and she only a bit of a girl herself.” -</p> - -<p> -“That only shows you never knew what it means to have a mother. No -tenderness can replace hers, though I am sure your sister did her -best.” -</p> - -<p> -“She did, indeed. And do you tell me now I must leave her out of my -mind entirely? Ah, General, y’have a better heart than that!” -</p> - -<p> -“Who talked about putting her out of your mind, pray? Because I -decline to hand over my troops to you to fritter away on this bank -when every man is wanted on t’other, is there any need to talk like a -fool? Puggy shall go after her, with a free hand and as much cash as -he wants at call. If he finds her he may be able to negotiate for her -ransom, or even help her to escape. That—what-d’ye-call-it?—sheet -with a grating in it—which these women wear”—“<i>burqa</i>,” murmured -Brian apologetically—“would disguise anybody first-rate—hide those -tell-tale eyes, and we may find her waiting for us when we get back. -Master Kamal-ud-din thinks he’s going to surround me, but it’s t’other -way about. I am going to surround him, and we march out to-morrow to -do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“March out? Ah, General, not you! To take the field in this heat! We -can’t afford to lose you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Precious little loss, according to the Bombay fellows. Yes, I am -going myself; it is necessary. Why, if they give us the slip now, it -means a ruinous delay, for the river will rise and cut us off from -Qadirabad till the cold weather. Provisions for five months! how could -we carry ’em? and yet without ’em we must perish. This inundation is -the most plaguy unaccountable thing! the old officers here tell me -they have known it complete six weeks before this; when the river rose -after that storm, everybody assured me it was here, yet the water has -gone down again, and I mean to take advantage of it. We have to march -against the enemy from all sides, and then strike hard, and you know -as well as I do that if I ain’t there my concentration will fail, and -some soft-hearted or white-livered chap will let the game out of the -net.” -</p> - -<p> -Brian was to remember the prophecy a week later, when he rode one -morning into the desert camp where the General’s force was sweltering -in such heat as even the natives had rarely known, and the Europeans -had never even dreamt of. He had ridden all night on a self-imposed -mission, and after his strenuous forty miles dropped limply from his -horse more dead than alive. He had accompanied, as the General’s -representative, one of the other columns—that which was detailed to -prevent Kamal-ud-din from breaking away southwards between Umarganj -and the river, and getting down into the Delta, where he might evade -pursuit indefinitely. Colonel Bleackley was one of those officers -whose moral support and aim in life is exact obedience to orders, and -when news came that the river was rising again, his first impulse was -to remember that he had been told on no account to let himself be cut -off by the floods, but to retire upon the main body, and this he -prepared to do. Brian opposed his decision with might and main. The -column marching down from Sahar had turned back Kamal-ud-din’s -brother, Jamal-ud-din, and driven him towards the General, who had -dispersed his force and taken him prisoner. Kamal-ud-din himself, who -had been hurrying to the boy’s support, quailed under the unexpected -blow, and turned back into the desert. By advancing upon Umarganj, -Colonel Bleackley would catch the Khan in a trap, since the only wells -adequate to the needs of a mounted force were on the route he was -following. To retire now would be to destroy the General’s hopes, and -leave Kamal-ud-din free to be a thorn in his side for the future. -After much expostulation, a compromise was agreed upon. Brian might go -and ascertain Sir Harry’s wishes, and until he returned Colonel -Bleackley would hold his ground. Sir Harry’s wishes were expressed in -no uncertain voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Tell the fellow to go on, go on, go on—no matter what’s in his way. -If he is caught by the water, let him get into Umarganj and maintain -himself there, and when Kamal-ud-din is tired of dancing about -outside, he’ll come in and surrender. Heaven only grant he don’t slip -through during this insane halt. What’s the good of our capturing -Jamal-ud-din if t’other one escapes? Nice young villain Jamal-ud-din -is too. Offered to make away with his brother and bring all his chiefs -to submit, if I would let him go, and recognise him as successor. But -that sort of thing don’t go down with me, as he knows now, and I am -sending off one of the Arabits captured with him to find Kamal and -warn him what a dear affectionate brother he’s got. Go and take a rest -now—if you can—while I concoct a despatch, with a dash of pepper in -it, for Bleackley. You’ll find your own tent cooler than this—only -have to simmer there, while we’re boiling alive here.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a reason for this, since Sir Harry, unable to bear the sight -of his beloved Black Prince’s sufferings in the heat outside, had -taken him into his tent, where the charger lay on the ground exhausted -and gasping, and making the place, if possible, hotter than it would -otherwise have been. Brian retired thankfully, with a glance of -commiseration at Stewart, who durst not affront the General’s eyes -with shirt-sleeves, and was suffocating in his scarlet coat. In his -own tent he did as most of the Europeans in the force were doing—lay -down with wet cloths about his head, and bade a servant pour water -over him. The heat lay above him like a heavy pall, impeding his -breath, sucking away his strength, and from the tents near he heard -the repressed groans of men in torment like himself, while every now -and then a horrible stertorous sound—a kind of choking -screech—showed that some sufferer had succumbed to the appalling -oppression. Brian was listlessly counting the seizures within his -hearing, and speculating from which side the next gulp of agony would -come, when he was startled by a suffocating gasp from Sir Harry’s -tent. -</p> - -<p> -“The General or Black Prince?” he asked himself, and staggering to his -feet, caught up his hat and reeled blindly across the few yards of -glaring sand between one semi-darkness and another. Sir Harry lay -prone across the table—a dreadful inarticulate noise coming from his -lips. Brian ran to lift him up, shouting for help as he did so, and in -a moment the camp was in a turmoil. Stewart, who had been sent to find -out something from the Brigade-Major, ran back, surgeons rushed up, -and volunteer helpers crowded to the tent in such numbers that they -had to be summarily dispersed. The General was bled, of course—people -were bled for every thing in those days,—and while he demanded -angrily but drowsily to be let alone and allowed to sleep, cold water -was applied to his head and hot to his feet, and he was vigorously -rubbed and slapped back to consciousness. He was the forty-fourth -victim of the heat that forenoon, and of the forty-three others not -one was alive three hours later. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning he sent for Brian, who found him in bed—if his -narrow charpoy could be called a bed,—looking very ill and haggard -and by no means comfortable—under a dirty sheet which was more like a -tent-cloth. He spoke fast and eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -“You must start—this afternoon. Must get to Bleackley by to-morrow -morning—rest in the worst of the heat. Despatch is ready. Have you a -horse?” -</p> - -<p> -“I rode my sister’s little Bajazet, sir. He carried me well, but ’twas -bad going for him. He’d carry me back, I believe, but I’d be sorry to -kill him—such a game little beast.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t have any horse ridden to death. Take Dick Turpin—he’ll carry -you. No more biting and kicking from him for a week or two!” with a -cackling laugh. “You won’t spare yourself, I know. Don’t spare him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t, General. Then I’ll be starting as soon as he can stand the -sun,” said Brian. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch24"> -CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A SORE STRAIT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Tom Carthew</span> must have known that Kamal-ud-din had hurried back into -the field in the hope of uniting with his brother’s force before Sir -Harry could intercept it, but he did not tell Eveleen so—possibly -because he was afraid of raising false hopes. He was in a pitiable -state of mind, equally afraid of the Arabits and of the British, -anxious—it would be too much to say determined to save Eveleen and -her husband, but fearing to take any practical step in that direction. -She argued the matter out with him after the Khan’s departure. It was -all very well for him to say that he hoped Kamal-ud-din would be kind -enough to let his captives go free, but it would be much more to the -purpose to help them to escape without putting the youth’s magnanimity -to the test. She was desperate enough to try any expedient Carthew -might suggest, and perhaps it was as well that he declined to think of -any. Even if they accomplished the all but impossible feat of getting -out of the fort and the town unnoticed, the desert ringed them round -as effectually as any wall. What could they do, burdened with a -helpless man? They would need camels and drivers, and even if they had -the means to secure the fidelity of the <i>sarwans</i>, they must follow -one of the well-known defined routes on which water was to be found, -and on any of these they were sure sooner or later to meet the -Arabits. When Eveleen persisted, he reduced her to silence by -inferring that she wished to leave her husband behind, as by no other -possibility could she be enabled to escape. It was characteristic of -him that he was not ashamed to use arguments from which a stronger man -would have shrunk. Eveleen felt a certain amount of unwilling -gratitude towards him, for he had undoubtedly served her well, but it -was mingled with no little impatience. He would not do a single -earthly thing because he was afraid of compromising his already shaky -position! -</p> - -<p> -That one, at any rate, of his fears had been justified she learned -very early in her captivity. The brief—almost momentary—coolness of -morning was over, and the long hot hours had begun. In what Eveleen -called their dungeon, she and Ketty were sitting, doing nothing, -because there was nothing to do. With its thick walls and solid roof, -the place was cooler than the tents in the desert, but there could be -no movement of air. Deprived of the contrivances for mitigating the -heat to which she had grown accustomed, and of the exercise she would -have declared essential to her, Eveleen looked as thin and hollow-eyed -as her husband, but restless instead of quiet. The inaction was -horrible to her, and she spent her time in making wild plans of -escape, which she knew were useless. Everything was so dreadfully -complicated by Richard’s helplessness. There he lay, inert as a log, -tended like a baby—the very thing he would most have detested had he -known it—unable either to see, hear, speak, or, as far as they could -tell, feel. Eveleen’s heart yearned over him with a passion of pity as -she thought of his state, for to her active mind nothing could be more -dreadful than continued idleness. It was a relief to hear the bearer’s -voice in the verandah asking admittance, for in another moment she -must have broken into sobs. The old man’s errand was a pleasant -surprise. The ladies of the zenana had heard there was a Farangi lady -in the Fort, and as she had not asked permission to visit them, they -feared she must be in need of suitable raiment, and with a present of -fruit to testify their goodwill, they sent her such things as they -thought she might be wanting. -</p> - -<p> -Such a kindly message would have been welcome at any time, but in -Eveleen’s depressed mood it was a heaven-sent distraction. It was as -though the ladies had divined Carthew’s anxiety, and sent nothing that -could be suspected of conveying poison, and she felt ashamed that he -should have doubted them. The fruit was magnificent, coming not from -sun-baked Khemistan, but from cooler regions across the mountains, and -Eveleen squeezed the juice from some grapes to make a drink for -Richard, and pleased herself with believing that he liked it. Ketty -was examining the other things sent, garments of embroidered silk and -finest muslin, perfumes and unguents in curious little baked earth -pots, and soap—or rather the washing-balls used throughout Khemistan, -the basis of which was a peculiar kind of earth dug near Qadirabad. -When the earth was mixed, as usually happened, with mustard-oil, the -balls did not commend themselves to the fastidious European taste, but -these were prepared in the proper way with oil of roses, and shed -abroad a delightful fragrance. Among the toilet articles her -forethought had provided, Ketty had included only one piece of soap, -so that the sight of this substitute was most welcome. Eveleen sat -turning the different things over and looking at them, and the thought -came into her mind that she was wasting time by not trying to enlist -the support of the ladies during the Khan’s absence. She would -certainly accept the invitation to visit them—though it might be -couched in the language of command. -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder what will the best time be to go and see them?” she mused -aloud. “The Khan’s mother is the head of the establishment, of course. -What are you doing to the Master’s arm, Ketty? Was it a mosquito?” -Ketty grunted that it was done gone, and Eveleen rose and began to try -the effect of the clothes sent her. She could hardly pay the visit in -her much tattered dressing-gown, but neither was she prepared to don -trousers—beautifully as these were fashioned according to native -ideas, very wide above the knee and extremely tight below. There were -two or three tunics of curious shape, but wearable, she thought, and -perhaps she could arrange one of the <i>chadars</i> as some kind of skirt -underneath them. She was pleating and draping and twisting, when -Ketty, with eyes of awful meaning, lifted Richard’s arm again and -showed her a long patch of fiery red from wrist almost to elbow. -Dropping the length of stuff she was holding, Eveleen sprang towards -him, and saw that the skin was burnt as though with some acid. -</p> - -<p> -“Ketty, what have you been doing?” she demanded furiously -</p> - -<p> -“Master no done feel,” was the complacent reply. -</p> - -<p> -“You did do it, you horrible wretch? How dare you? You burned your -master’s arm?” -</p> - -<p> -“Better done burn Master arm than Madam face,” persisted Ketty -stolidly. -</p> - -<p> -“’Twas not! ’Twas worse—far worse! But why would you want to burn -either? Is it mad y’are?” -</p> - -<p> -“Khanum done send wash-ball, done spoil Madam face—no marry Khan,” -explained the handmaid brazenly. -</p> - -<p> -“The wash-balls?” Eveleen picked up one of them and regarded it with -dilated eyes. “You mean if I had used this on my face——? But why -burn your master?” -</p> - -<p> -“Madam done see, done believe.” -</p> - -<p> -“Wouldn’t I have tried it on my own arm if you’d told me? But to go -and torture him when he can’t feel——! Listen what I’ll do with you, -Ketty. I’m going to see the Khanum now, and you’ll go with me and -interpret. But what will we put on the poor arm first? This stuff -looks cooling—— Ah no, I won’t let one of them come within a mile of -him now. Bearer will likely know what to do.” -</p> - -<p> -She summoned Abdul Qaiyam from the verandah, received his advice to -apply a little <i>ghi</i> to the burn, and bade him send word that the -Farangi lady craved leave to wait on their Highnesses; but as he went -out again with disturbed face, she found herself clasped round the -knees by the agonised Ketty, pallid with terror. -</p> - -<p> -“Madam no done scold! No good. No help here. Khanum done kill Madam, -kill Master, kill all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Scold her? and why would I scold her? What good would that do? What -would I scold her about?” -</p> - -<p> -“Wash-balls,” moaned Ketty, drawing back and looking as though she -doubted her mistress’s sanity. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, <i>those</i>! I won’t be saying a word about them, of course. Throw -them away—— No, put them by; I may be glad of them myself yet. Why, -Ketty, you silly old woman, don’t you see I want to put myself right -with the ladies? They are making a horrid mistake about me, and well -they may; and how can they be shown it unless I speak to them myself?” -</p> - -<p> -“Done kill Master,” repeated Ketty miserably. -</p> - -<p> -“If they do, they’ll certainly kill us as well, and then all our -troubles will be over. But they won’t, for I’ll leave the blue stone -round his neck, and Bearer to see that no one touches it. Here, put a -pin in this.” -</p> - -<p> -As an additional security, she fastened her improvised skirt with the -girdle of her dressing-gown, then caught up another <i>chadar</i> and -wrapped it round her head and shoulders, and waited impatiently for -the bearer’s return, while Ketty, abandoning her tragic attitude, took -up once more her familiar strain of grumbling. It seemed an immensely -long time before Abdul Qaiyam returned, for the ladies must have been -astonished by the suddenness of the visit, but at last he came back, -bringing with him one of the negro attendants of the zenana. Under -this man’s protection, after charging the long-suffering bearer with -many injunctions as to his master’s safety, Eveleen crossed the -courtyard—or rather, slipped from one patch of shade to another, and -thus skirted round it, encountering various Arabits who hastily -averted their eyes or took cover within the buildings. Ketty followed, -looking exactly as if she was going to be hanged, so her mistress told -her, and at the zenana door they were admitted by another negro, who -handed them over to a number of old women. These offered perfunctory -salutations in an unknown tongue, scrutinising the visitors greedily -the while, and led them to a large vaulted room partially underground, -where the ladies were passing away the hot hours as best they might. -Eveleen had learnt enough from Ketty’s gossip—though it was difficult -to tell whom she found to gossip with—to know who were the principal -personages before her. There were three young girls—rather meek and -abashed-looking—who sat together as though they found each other’s -company a support. Two of them were wives of Kamal-ud-din, and one was -his brother’s. Then there was Jamal-ud-din’s mother, a lady with a -dissatisfied expression, who sat as near as possible to the chief -place occupied by her superior, the mother of Kamal-ud-din. The Khanum -was the pleasantest-looking person there, with an assured manner which -showed to advantage beside the fidgetiness of her companion. To her, -even as her lips uttered the words of salutation, and without being -invited to approach, Eveleen moved swiftly forward, and dropping on -her knees, laid hold of the Khanum’s silken draperies. -</p> - -<p> -“I seize the Lady’s skirt and claim her protection,” she said in her -best Persian. “Let her spread her mantle over my husband and me.” -</p> - -<p> -Every one looked virtuously shocked that a woman should be so -abandoned as to refer to her husband as such, but apparently the -impropriety furnished a not disagreeable excitement, for the ladies -gathered a little closer and listened eagerly. The Khanum alone -remained unmoved. -</p> - -<p> -“How is this, then?” she asked. “Is not the sick Farangi thy brother, -lady?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit of it!” Eveleen sat back on her heels, still holding the -Khanum’s dress, and felt—without realising the reason—the thrill -that went round as she lifted her eyes to her audience. “My brother is -only a boy. This is my husband, that I’ve followed over land and sea, -after he came back for me when I’d waited twenty years for him.” Ketty -followed as interpreter, but Eveleen began to suspect that her Persian -was about on a par with her English when she saw the blank look on the -ladies’ faces. She did her best, therefore, to repeat what she had -said, and between the two some measure of understanding followed. The -Khanum looked more sympathetic. -</p> - -<p> -“It is told me the Farangi ladies are like the Turki women north of -the mountains, who ride unveiled with their lords—even to war,” she -said, and Eveleen followed the words anxiously and painfully. “But how -is it this Farangi Sahib was not slain?” -</p> - -<p> -“He was sick—not wounded in battle,” explained Eveleen. “I was taking -him to the sea to heal him, for the sea heals all the ills of the -English.” -</p> - -<p> -This was quite comprehensible. “Naturally, since they come up out of -it,” said the Khanum graciously. -</p> - -<p> -“And we were betrayed into the hands of the Khan’s servants and -brought here,” Eveleen ended rather lamely, and the benevolence became -less marked. -</p> - -<p> -“My son does not make war with sick men and with women. Why should ye -have been brought hither?” -</p> - -<p> -“They said——” Eveleen tried hard to put the story of the Seal of -Solomon into manageable Persian, but found the task beyond her powers. -“It was all a piece of foolishness,” she said unhappily. -</p> - -<p> -“What was foolish? the tale of the precious thing—dear to my son and -his whole house—the colour of which has passed into thine eyes? Why -say this now, when by thy malediction upon what should have caused -good fortune, thou hast brought so much evil upon my son and all the -brotherhood?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but it couldn’t really——” Eveleen was beginning, and then -realised that no amount of argument, even if she were equal to it, -would disabuse the ladies’ minds of their belief either in her power -or in that of the stone. “I was angry,” she confessed. “My husband -gave the talisman to the Khan without consulting me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And it was thine own possession?” asked the Khanum, with evident -sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -“My very own—given to me when I was married by the uncle who brought -me up.” There was quite a chorus of sympathy now, but Jamal-ud-din’s -mother struck a jarring note. -</p> - -<p> -“And if it was,” she said querulously, “what better can his Highness, -the son of my sister, do than what he proposes—namely, to restore the -stone and take thee into his zenana, thus uniting thy influence with -the fortunes of his house?” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen flushed angrily—the ladies watching as if fascinated the red -spreading through the white skin. “We need not speak of that; it is -not the custom of my people,” she said, controlling herself with -difficulty. “Khanum, look——” she raised the heavy masses of hair -from her temples, and showed the streaks of white that were making -their appearance there. “I am old—old enough to be the mother of his -Highness. Let me go with my own lord, whom I love, and who came to -seek me after so many years.” -</p> - -<p> -A little discussion arose. Jamal-ud-din’s mother held to her view of -the case, Kamal-ud-din’s wives—not unnaturally—taking the other, -though timidly and with due deference to their seniors. One of them -thought that as the Farangi woman had a husband already, it was -unnecessary to provide her with another; the other was cynically -inclined, and said that in a world where such a thing as constancy was -hardly to be found, it was a pity to make away with the one man who -had proved himself faithful. The Khanum, listening and pondering, made -it clear at last that she took a wider view of the matter. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it true that by my son’s command, the Farangi Sahib is in no -danger of death for the present?” she asked. -</p> - -<p> -“That was his promise, Khanum.” -</p> - -<p> -“And the gratitude that is his due—hast thou shown that? In return -for the boon of life for thy lord, is good fortune once more to smile -upon my son’s house?” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen was taken aback. “I wish him—and have wished him—all -possible happiness,” she faltered. -</p> - -<p> -“And success in his war with the English?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nay,” wretchedly; “that I cannot do. Yet have pity, Khanum. Set not -the life of my husband in the scale against”—a happy thought—“that -of my brother.” -</p> - -<p> -“The son of thy mother?” asked one of the girls with interest. -</p> - -<p> -“The son of my mother, lady, and given into my arms by her when she -died.” -</p> - -<p> -Even the Khanum seemed moved. “Thou art indeed in a sore strait!” she -said. “Rise, lady, and return to thy lord. For the present my skirt is -over thee and him. It may be that good fortune will attend my son. If -so, I will entreat him for thee. If not, I will send for thee again, -and we will speak of this.” -</p> - -<p> -It was a sore strait indeed, and Eveleen could hardly see for tears -the <i>attar</i> and <i>pan</i> that were presented to her as she retired, nor -utter the words of farewell. At any other time she would have been -amused by the bearer’s incredulous delight on seeing her return alive -and unharmed, and Ketty’s obvious disgust at the unimportant part she -had been allowed to take in the proceedings, though she returned from -the zenana the richer by a fine new cloth—the gift of the Khanum. She -could not even be amused at herself for totally forgetting alike the -Khanum’s present of clothes and the poisoned soap that accompanied it, -nor at the ladies for ignoring them so completely. She could only tell -herself that she had degraded the English name in vain by her -humiliation, and that the General’s victory, which she was -patriotically sure would come, would certainly be set down as the -result of her malignity. -</p> - -<p> -That she was right in this, at any rate, was proved only too soon, -when she was summoned again to the Khanum after a night of turmoil in -the town, when the shrill wailings of the women penetrated into the -fort and were answered by like cries from the zenana. Sir Harry had -defeated Jamal-ud-din’s force and held the boy prisoner, and -Kamal-ud-din had been too late to rescue his brother. The Arabits in -the courtyard cursed and spat at her as they turned their heads aside, -and in the zenana Jamal-ud-din’s mother, noisy and dishevelled amid a -group of sympathisers—yet not without a certain satisfaction in -finding herself for once the prominent person—met her with bitter -words and angry threats. Was this her gratitude? the ladies demanded -hysterically. Was she so blind as to imagine that now she was in -Kamal-ud-din’s power she could go on working her spells against him, -and yet expect to escape unpunished? With monotonous reiteration the -mourners repeated the question in different words, the only calm -person present being the Khanum, who had consulted propriety by -appearing ceremonially dishevelled, but sat apart from the noisy -group, wearing the peculiar air of detachment which distinguished her. -But she made no attempt to protect Eveleen. -</p> - -<p> -“Go, go!” shrieked Jamal-ud-din’s mother at last, having exhausted her -store of insults—and it was not a small one—“but think not to -escape. Had I my will, thy head and that of the Farangi without would -already be speeding to the camp of the Brother of Satan, whom ye call -Bahadar Jang, to confront him at his table. But ye are -<i>protected</i>”—with terrific scorn—“by the son of my sister. Yet take -warning. If one hair falls from the head of my son, no protection of -his Highness will serve thee—or thy lord—from the vengeance of the -women, and these hands”—most realistic claws extended—“will be the -first to tear.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen knew well enough what she meant. There were women everywhere -around—not merely the Princesses, in their transparent muslins, and -silks that a single violent movement would tear, but hard-faced old -women, of the race of those whose mission it was to finish up the -wounded in frontier warfare. She had often heard shudderingly of their -horrible methods of torture and mutilation—picking out the wounded -man’s eyes with the long needles used for applying <i>kohl</i> to the -eyelids was one of the mildest,—and the thought of the little dagger -occurred to her again. Not for herself, there would not be time for -both, but for Richard. She looked involuntarily towards the impassive -Khanum, who spoke coldly. -</p> - -<p> -“Go, and we will send for thee again. But bethink thee well ere thou -bring further evil upon this house.” -</p> - -<p> -Returning wretchedly to the dungeon, Eveleen found, with a certain -warming of the heart, Carthew waiting to see her—or rather, shuffling -uneasily about the room, a look of rooted misery on his face. It must -have cost him so much effort to show himself on the side of such -desperately unpopular people, that she hated herself for thinking that -he had come because he feared she would make his allegiance even more -conspicuous by sending for him. The natural contrariety of Eveleen’s -disposition caused her spirits to rise immediately on beholding his -depression, and she greeted him with a very fair imitation of -cheerfulness. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad to find you in such good spirits, ma’am,” he said—in a tone -very far from glad. -</p> - -<p> -“And why wouldn’t I be, when the General is well on his way to come -and rescue us?” -</p> - -<p> -Carthew shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish to damp you, ma’am, but I -doubt the General’s ever getting this far.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why? You can’t think he’d leave us in the lurch?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not if he knew it, I’m certain. But how is he to know where you are?” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen stared at him. “But why not? Where else in the world would we -be than here?” -</p> - -<p> -“But why should he think to find you here? For anything he knows, if -you escaped the storm at all you’re on t’other side of the river.” -</p> - -<p> -“The other side of the river!” she repeated, her eyes dilating. “But -how would we be there?” -</p> - -<p> -“Didn’t I tell you, ma’am”—miserably—“of the plot I made to catch -Captain Lennox for the Khan—when it was you they meant all the time? -I had to lay a false trail to keep the General from sending the Camel -Corps to cut us off between the river and this, and so I did it by -bringing in the Codgers into the business, through that old Parsee -that was with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“The poor little good old man? D’ye tell me he was in it? Sure I’ll -never believe in anybody again!” -</p> - -<p> -“Not in the plot against you, but he was bringing supplies to the Khan -from his aunt—one of Gul Ali Khan’s wives—in Qadirabad. Paying his -army has swallowed up the Khan’s own treasure, pretty near, so he got -word to this old lady, and she promised him jewels to a fairish -amount. Old Firozji was to carry ’em about him, and I gave him all the -directions—how he was to get protection by sailing in a British -officer’s company, and make sure there was no trouble with the Codgers -by engaging some of ’em to guard him. At one of the halts on the -river—he was not to know beforehand which it would be—a messenger -from the Khan would meet him with a certain password, and he would -give up the jewels to him. The rest of the plan we arranged with the -Codgers. They were to capture the boats by surprise, and do what they -liked with ’em, but the old Parsee and the British officer were to be -brought across the river on <i>mussucks</i> and handed over to us. That was -my idea, but you know it was yourself, and no officer, that the Khan -was after. The Codgers had the password, so that old Firozji would -come quiet, and when he had given us the jewels he was to be let go, -so that he could tell the General his boats and everything had been -stolen, and he had escaped with nothing but his life to bring word of -Captain Lennox being prisoner. It was the Codgers made things go -wrong, though why they should have brought you across the river in the -boat I can’t say.” -</p> - -<p> -“I made them—with a pistol,” said Eveleen in a low voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Then it was well you did, ma’am, or you would have come across tied -on to a <i>mussuck</i>, and your good gentleman there would never have been -heard of again. But I suppose it was that stirred up the Codgers, -making ’em think they’d been choused somehow. They killed the old -Parsee, anyhow, and collared the jewels themselves, instead of handing -’em over, and then made off, leaving me to find everything had gone -wrong.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if y’ask me,” said Eveleen vigorously, “I think it served you -right entirely. Are you not ashamed of yourself, Tom Carthew, to be -plotting this way?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t, Miss Evie, don’t! Ain’t we all in the same boat? If I failed -to get the jewels, wasn’t it because somehow or other I got hold of -the Major as well as yourself—and then listened to you and let him be -brought here? And if you ain’t bringing ’em the good luck they looked -for—why, it’s as plain as a pikestaff your thoughts are on the Major, -not the Khan.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would just think so!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, there you are, you see. If there was ever any chance of the -General getting within twenty miles of this place, do you think the -Major would be there to see it? Why, it’s he keeps you from doing your -duty by them—that’s the way they look at it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you wouldn’t think—after all this time——?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s my fault again. I told ’em he was dying, you see—couldn’t live -above a day or two—and I believed it. But he’s alive still.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course he is! And sometimes—I almost think there seems a little -weeshy bit of difference—a sort of change in his eyes—as if his soul -was trying to find its way back, don’t you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Evie, don’t—for pity’s sake! The one chance for you is that he -stays as he is. I don’t <i>think</i> the Khan would finish off a man in -that state—I hope he wouldn’t. But if once he saw him beginning to -get better——” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’are a nice old croaker, Tom! Then the General must come quick, -before he gets better—eh? But what did you mean by saying there was -not a great chance of his coming?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why should he? The river is rising again, he dursn’t let himself be -cut off away from his camp, he don’t know of any particular reason for -coming here. He won’t come. He’ll turn back and make for -Qadirabad—you’ll see.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t, then! I believe the General will come in time and save us. -Y’ought be ashamed of yourself for trying to make me unhappy about it. -I tell y’ I won’t be miserable—there!” But whether, when she was -again comparatively alone, Eveleen was quite as valiantly positive as -she professed to be, Ketty could have told. -</p> - -<p> -Three days later the blow fell—just the reverse of the last one. The -town rang with rejoicings and blazed with lights. From the zenana came -presents of fruit and sweetmeats, jewels and rich garments, with a -special message from the Khanum herself: “The mother of his Highness -send thanks and greetings to the Farangi lady, who had brought -blessing when to blind eyes she seemed to be bringing a curse.” -</p> - -<p> -It was some time before a diligent quest for information on Ketty’s -part made this cryptic message clear. The reason for the general -rejoicing was soon discovered. The Bahadar Jang was sick unto death. -All his people stricken about the same time were dead already, and he -must soon follow. Depression and disintegration had already set in -among his forces, as was shown by the conduct of the body of troops -detached to cut off the Khan from Umarganj. It had halted for no -reason, and remained passive, and Kamal-ud-din had passed it safely, -and would arrive in an hour or two. This was the news as it was -communicated to the public, but to one or two cronies of his own the -messenger had imparted the further tale of young Jamal-ud-din’s -dishonour—his offer to assassinate his brother to win favour with his -captor,—and this it was that had moved the gratitude of the Khanum. -Now they knew where they were, she said, and her son could guard -himself in future. The capture of the boy, which had seemed such a -disaster, was a blessing in disguise, since it had revealed him in his -true colours. And to this she adhered, though Jamal-ud-din’s mother -stormed and raved and tore her hair as she vowed that the treachery -must have been suggested by the enemy, and that her son had feigned to -assent to it only through fear of death. -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen cared nothing for Jamal-ud-din and his mother and step-mother. -The news of the General’s illness—perhaps death—and Kamal-ud-din’s -return came upon her like a thunderbolt, in nowise lightened by the -knowledge that both events were in all good faith ascribed to her -favourable influence. At last she had tried hard enough—and behold -the result! They would never let her go now that she had so signally -proved her value to them. She had signed Richard’s death-warrant as -surely as though she had set her hand to paper, for though they might -contemptuously decline to take his life, how could he live on in this -state without her tendance? She might escape dishonour herself, thanks -to the little dagger, but how could she save him? -</p> - -<p> -She sprang up wildly at last, and meeting the surprised glance of -Ketty, who had been hugging herself in the complacency natural to the -bearer of appalling tidings, bade her harshly to go out—make -enquiries—bring more news. Ketty was nothing loath. The present -popularity of her mistress shed its lustre over her, and she knew she -would be a welcome guest among the wives of the soldiers in the -courtyard. Out she went, and Eveleen, who had stood rigid with her -hand to her heart, crossed the room again and sank on her knees beside -her husband. Pride was gone now. -</p> - -<p> -“O God,” she sobbed, “it was my fault—all my fault. But that’s the -very reason I need Thy help. I can do nothing, I deserve nothing. I -have ruined myself, but not him——O God, not him! Let him be -saved—whatever happens to me—whatever—<i>whatever</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -Exhausted by the vehemence of her entreaty, she knelt in silence, -panting painfully. Then her outstretched hands touched one of -Richard’s, clasped it and let it go, and then in the semi-darkness she -passed them gently over his face—as though for the last time. -</p> - -<p> -“So often I have said I’d die for him, and now I have killed him!” The -words were forced from her, and she broke into a low hopeless sobbing, -with her head on his breast. Was it fancy—madness—or did she really -hear his voice close to her ear, speaking dreamily and as though he -was but half awake? -</p> - -<p> -“What is it? My dear, don’t, pray don’t!” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t what?” she asked in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t cry—so sadly. I can’t—bear it.” He was certainly speaking, in -a drowsy voice like one newly awakened from a long sleep. Eveleen gave -a cry. -</p> - -<p> -“Ambrose, can you hear me? Are y’awake?” -</p> - -<p> -“Gently—hush, pray. I was afraid—of something. It must have -been—this.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it <i>afraid</i> you were? Will you tell me have you been in your right -senses all this while, when I thought you could hear nothing?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think so,” doubtfully, but the voice was stronger. “There -have been times—— Sometimes I think I must have heard—— Perhaps I -might have waked—— But I heard Carthew say—the one chance for -you—— Something on my mouth—sort of padlock——” -</p> - -<p> -“Then why in the world wouldn’t you break it? D’ye think I’d mind what -happened me if I’d had the chance of hearing you speak? Ambrose, I’d -like to shake you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray do—but for Heaven’s sake don’t speak so loud. Not unless we are -out of the wood by this time. Are we? Surely not; or why were you -crying in that—that lamentable way?” -</p> - -<p> -The familiar dry tone brought Eveleen to her senses. She sat back and -looked at him in dismay. -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, and if you did keep silence because you were afraid of my -foolishness I wouldn’t wonder. I deserve it. To think of my calling -out that way! But Bearer’s outside to warn us if anybody comes near, -and every one’s too busy to care about us just now.” -</p> - -<p> -Richard’s hand came on hers with a sudden heavy pressure. “Listen!” he -murmured. -</p> - -<p> -“Let the exalted magnificence listen to the words of this humble one,” -pleaded the voice of Abdul Qaiyam. “In very deed there is no one -within. The Beebee talks with herself.” -</p> - -<p> -“In such a voice as that? Stand aside, old man. If this is true, I -will ask pardon. Out of the way!” -</p> - -<p> -A hand lifted the grass blind, and Kamal-ud-din stood in the opening, -in his hand the drawn sword with which he had just threatened the old -servant. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch25"> -CHAPTER XXV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">USE AND WONT.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> sun had risen some time, and the waves of heat were rolling up -to the assault of Colonel Bleackley’s camp in the shadeless desert, -but the bored and discontented officers who were lounging about the -mess tent made no move to retire to their own quarters. They had no -spirit even for what jealous civilians called “Arabit-hunting,” the -perpetual diversion of Sir Harry and his circle—which meant recalling -the exploits of this or that comrade in the battles, and how many of -the enemy he had killed. The few words exchanged among them were not -of a character flattering to the commander of their column. -</p> - -<p> -“Shoving his responsibility off upon Delany!” growled Captain Keeling -savagely. “We ought to be in Umarganj now, and should be if he had -done his duty.” -</p> - -<p> -“More just to say Delany shouldered the responsibility of his own -accord,” said the measured tones of Sir Dugald Haigh. “But it ought -not to have been left to him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, he’s paid for it, poor chap!” muttered some one else. “Must -have broke down somewhere, or he’d be back by now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Wouldn’t choose to be in Bleackley’s shoes when old Harry talks to -him about this business!” said another cheerfully. -</p> - -<p> -“If the General don’t take it up, I’ll expose him myself!” snarled -Captain Keeling, with the public spirit which so endeared him to his -superiors. -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you, my boy!” cried the rest in chorus, which broke off -into shouts of welcome as an exhausted young man rode a very meek -horse painfully into the space before the tent. With unwonted -discretion, Brian declined to state the result of his mission -otherwise than by nods and winks, but by the way he brandished the -despatch which he insisted he must deliver to Colonel Bleackley -forthwith, the others guessed he had been successful. But while he -waited for his audience he could not resist telling the rest how -uncommonly cool they were here—which was naturally soothing to men -who felt that they were rapidly frizzling away,—and to prove his -words, describing the terrible mortality in the General’s camp. That -Colonel Bleackley heard what was said was clear when he had read the -despatch, though his bearer professed to have awakened him from sleep. -</p> - -<p> -“You are acquainted with the contents of this, I suppose, Captain -Delany?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am, Colonel. The General would likely think it better in case the -despatch got destroyed.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sir Henry was of course unaware when he wrote that my spies report -Umarganj to have been evacuated by the enemy. I doubt whether I am -justified in pushing forward, on the strength of an order dictated in -the state of health you describe. In case of the General’s death I -might incur very grave censure.” -</p> - -<p> -Brian felt Captain Keeling bristling behind him, and anticipated him -hastily. “Believe me, Colonel, if Sir Henry were unhappily to succumb, -he’d rise from his grave to haunt y’ if you did not push forward.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are acquainted with his probable course of action in any -circumstances whatever, apparently.” Colonel Bleackley looked at Brian -without any particular affection. “Better go and rest and get -something to eat. So valuable a person must not come to harm, if I am -to escape the attentions of the General’s ghost.” -</p> - -<p> -Brian went off vowing angrily that he was not going to rest—not he! A -snack of something to eat, and he was good for the day’s work yet. -Besides, it was no use trying to sleep in this heat; he had tried it -at the other camp, and it meant dying before you could wake up—in the -case of other people, he explained hastily in answer to interested -enquiries. But whether it was that the double journey had taken more -out of him than he knew, or that it really was cooler here—owing to -the drier air—than near the river, it is certain that he was fast -asleep when Captain Keeling lifted the flap of his tent and looked in, -and on being addressed merely grunted and went to sleep again. -</p> - -<p> -“Poor beggar! let him sleep. He deserves it,” said Sir Dugald Haigh, -looking over Captain Keeling’s shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -“I know he deserves the best we can give him. That’s why I thought he -ought to come on this reconnaissance.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you’re disappointed because the poor chap ain’t made of cast -steel and whipcord like yourself? After all, he’ll be in at the death, -thanks to Bleackley.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hang Bleackley! I’ll swear I could take the place by a <i>coup de main</i> -with my men and your guns—and to be forbidden to approach too near, -or pursue the enemy——” -</p> - -<p> -“Got to engage ’em first—find ’em, too. Well, when you do, the guns -will be up in support, if I have to drag ’em through the sand at my -quad.’s tail.” -</p> - -<p> -“All serene. I count on you.” -</p> - -<p> -Brian’s slumbers that day were disturbed by rolling thunder, which -worried rather than troubled him—it was so persistent. He was never -really awakened, however, and arose at sunset, refreshed but rather -injured, to find to his astonishment that there had been no storm at -all. The thunder of which he had been intermittently conscious was -that of Sir Dugald Haigh’s guns, with the support of which the -Khemistan Horse had attacked a strong Arabit force covering Umarganj -and driven it from its position. Forbidden beforehand to follow up his -victory, Captain Keeling, with murder in his heart, could only send to -inform his superior that the way to the town was now open, and entreat -to be allowed to pursue the retreating foe and cut off Kamal-ud-din’s -retreat. He had not been in the fight—so Captain Keeling had learnt -from the prisoners he had taken,—but he was certainly in the town, -and his capture would end the war at one blow. But Colonel Bleackley -scented stratagems and ambushes, and flatly forbade his subordinate to -do more than bivouac for the night on the ground he had won. The next -day the whole force moved forward majestically—also slowly,—the -Khemistan Horse acting as advanced-guard instead of reconnoitring -ahead of the column. Brian, riding with Captain Keeling, had little -conversation with him, for the Commandant was too much disgusted to -talk. He was quite certain Kamal-ud-din would have seized the -opportunity to make good his escape, and all the work would have to be -done over again. They rode on grumpily in the broiling heat, their -eyes mocked by the most enticing mirage imaginable in the -circumstances. A stately castle rose from the margin of a pellucid -lake, in which its battlemented turrets were faithfully mirrored. -Behind it towered mountains which it could have been sworn were -snow-capped, and on either side were waving palms and green -undergrowth. Both men were well accustomed to deceptions of such a -kind by this time, and were not unduly disappointed when the -delightful prospect faded suddenly, revealing a straggling mass of mud -hovels surrounded by a mud wall and clustering about a mud fort. This -was Umarganj, the goal of their efforts—but a goal without reward, as -Captain Keeling perceived when he handed his telescope to his -companion and pointed out a group of men waiting in the shade of the -gateway facing them. -</p> - -<p> -“Townspeople—on the watch to surrender the place,” he growled. -“Kamal-ud-din and his Arabits have cut their stick, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder now was he gone when the spies brought that tale to -Bleackley yesterday?” said Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“Not he. Spread the report in the hope Bleackley would think he was a -day late for the fair and go home. You put a stop to that, happily. -Then my young gentleman leaves the fellows we defeated yesterday to -fight a rearguard action and allow him time to get away, and clears -out comfortably while we have our proper meals and go to bed in nice -time!” -</p> - -<p> -Brian laughed at the savagery of the tone, and they rode on, to be met -by the men they had seen—a number of the notables of the town, whose -protestations of their devotion to the General and the British, and -their delight in surrendering, scarcely carried conviction. They were -a ragged, wild-looking crew, and the place was so miserable and -poverty-stricken that both men were conscious of a mean joy in the -thought that Colonel Bleackley would consider its possession a very -poor return for the long march it had cost. But one of the -ambassadors—possibly reading some depreciation in the faces of the -conquerors—approached them ingratiatingly. -</p> - -<p> -“The Sahib and the Beebee are quite safe, and their servants,” he -said. “And”—with a smirk—“we have a prisoner to hand over who will -rejoice the heart of the Padishah—on whom be the blessing of God!” -</p> - -<p> -“The Sahib and Beebee!” repeated Brian in astonishment. “What Sahib -and Beebee? It can’t possibly be——” -</p> - -<p> -“Not your sister and her husband—how could it be?” demanded Captain -Keeling crushingly. “They are miles away on t’other side of the -river.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know. I did hear at H.Q. that Puggy had come in swearing he -would stake his reputation they had never been on that bank at all, -but he had gone out on another errand, and I had no time to hunt him -up. If it could be——!” -</p> - -<p> -“Who is this Sahib?” snapped Captain Keeling to the man. -</p> - -<p> -“This slave cannot tell his name, Sahib, but he is sick, and his -Beebee enjoys the gift of good fortune.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t exactly have thought that!” muttered Brian. “But I must -see—I’ll ride on. Good heavens, if it might be! How in the world -would they get here?” -</p> - -<p> -“You had better wait, unless you want to be chased and put under -arrest. Here comes the great Bleackley to take over the negotiations. -Now for a triumphal entry!” -</p> - -<p> -Quivering with impatience, Brian had to wait while Colonel -Bleackley—through an interpreter—questioned the deputation, and -learned that Kamal-ud-din, with his family and such of his forces as -remained faithful to him, had left the town the night before. Of the -Arabits who declined to follow his fortunes farther, most had gone -their several ways, after plundering where they could, and besides the -townspeople there were left only a few who were tired of fighting, and -the wounded from yesterday’s action. Renewed assurances of the town’s -delight in welcoming the British convinced Colonel Bleackley that no -treachery was to be feared, and he announced his intention of taking -possession of the fort. Led by the Khemistan Horse, the expedition -entered the town and marched through the streets, to be greeted by a -weird apparition as it approached the fort gate. An elderly native—a -down-country Mohammedan from his dress—was dancing wildly on the -battlements and waving his <i>pagri</i> like a streamer. Catching sight of -Brian, he turned the stream of blessings he was pouring on the column -generally into a more personal channel, and Brian recognised his -brother-in-law’s bearer. -</p> - -<p> -“If you’ll believe me, it is them after all!” he cried joyfully. “Come -down, y’old sinner, and show us where your Sahib is.” -</p> - -<p> -Descending with miraculous speed by some unseen staircase, Abdul -Qaiyam appeared in the gateway, his turban neatly rolled as though by -magic, his aspect composed and stately. “The Sahib and the Beebee -await the young Sahib,” he announced in his most important voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Go and find your sister by all means, Delany,” said Colonel -Bleackley, and Brian followed his guide to the courtyard guarding the -zenana door, where Richard lay on his charpoy on the verandah, with -Eveleen beaming proudly at his side, Ketty beside her, and a nervous -figure lurking in the shadows behind. -</p> - -<p> -“Hillo, Delany!” said Richard. -</p> - -<p> -“So here y’are at last, Brian!” cried Eveleen, most unjustly. “No -thanks to you we’re here to meet you!” -</p> - -<p> -“I believe you, ma’am! No thanks to me y’are here at all, but to your -own wicked wayward will. Well, this is a sight for sore eyes! How are -y’, Ambrose? Now tell me all about it, Evie.” -</p> - -<p> -Shaking hands with Richard and kissing Eveleen simultaneously, Brian -settled himself between them. “Now that’s first chop! Give you my word -I never thought I’d have this pleasure. Sit down here, Evie, and tell -me all the story of your perverse doings, and how you managed to crown -’em all by letting yourself be found at Umarganj instead of among the -Codgers.” -</p> - -<p> -Eveleen needed no second invitation to embark on so congenial a theme, -and with Richard putting in a dry word or two here and there in a weak -voice—to serve, as he remarked once, as rocks in the path of the -cataract—her narrative poured forth, with characteristic disdain of -order and chronology, and frequent promises to return later to such -and such a point and explain—the moment for which never came. Still, -having extorted permission to tell her tale in her own way, she did -arrive at last at the evening of Richard’s return to consciousness, -and Kamal-ud-din’s most inopportune appearance on the scene. -</p> - -<p> -“If you’ll believe me, Brian, I was <i>frightened</i>”—with the solemnity -needed to carry conviction of so improbable a fact,—“really terribly -frightened. The instant before I was scolding Ambrose for not letting -me know the very moment he had his senses again, and I had plenty more -to say, when there stood that—that <i>incongruous</i> youth, <i>glooming</i> at -us with great angry eyes, and a drawn sword in his hand!” -</p> - -<p> -“And I leave you to guess what your sister did,” said Richard, taking -advantage of her pause for effect. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I’d say she’d spring up and take her stand nobly in the front of -you, and treat that incongruous youth to the rough side of her -tongue,” said Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, I did not!” said Eveleen triumphantly. “You’ll never -guess it. I’m ashamed of myself entirely when I think how I’d ever do -such a thing. I just ducked down behind Ambrose, and cried, and cried, -and cried!” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’old impostor, Evie!” shouted Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“I was <i>not</i>. ’Twas all I could do—to think how everything had gone -wrong just as it was getting right. And poor Ambrose lying there -getting soaked with tears, and not a chance of saying a word because -of the noise!” -</p> - -<p> -“As you may imagine, your sister is colouring her narrative a bit,” -supplied Richard. “’Matter of fact, the Khan was as much taken aback -as we were, and began to look most uncommon foolish. It was -unnecessary for me to say anything—even had I had the chance.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do I understand, then, that Evie wept and wept until her tears would -float him out of the place, still looking foolish?” demanded Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“You do not. The Seal of Solomon was still hung round Ambrose’s neck, -and the chain cot my hair as I cried. That reminded me of the thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“It would,” acquiesced Brian gravely. -</p> - -<p> -“And I jumped up, and took it off Ambrose, and held it out to the -youth and said, ‘Ah, take it, take it, and my blessing with it! All -the luck you can have I’ll wish you with all my heart, and if it’s my -poor eyes y’are set on I’ll give them to y’on a plate like St Lucy, -and go groping blind all the rest of my life, but don’t take me away -from Ambrose here!’” -</p> - -<p> -“Precious moving!” remarked Brian. “And I hope Kamal-ud-din was duly -moved?” -</p> - -<p> -“He was not.” Eveleen paused, and Richard filled the gap. -</p> - -<p> -“Unfortunately my wife spoke in English, you see—which is not one of -the Khan’s accomplishments. Otherwise her rash offer might have been -accepted, and you would have found a shocking spectacle to greet you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you may talk and make a joke of it!” said Eveleen, with -tremendous energy; “but I meant it, and I’d have done it too.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t doubt it. But how was the sacrifice averted?” -</p> - -<p> -“I ventured to put in my oar,” said Richard. “Seeing the youth look -puzzled and angry, I summoned up my best Persian and laid the -compliments on with a trowel. I told him the terror of his name had -frightened my wife into thinking him capable of things he would never -dream of doing. I blamed myself for giving him the seal when it was -not mine to give, and begged him humbly to hold me responsible. I -pointed out that Mrs Ambrose was now quite willing to surrender it—as -a spontaneous tribute of esteem and admiration. I congratulated myself -on recovering my senses in time to unite my sentiments with hers in -making the gift.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure you never heard such an oration!” said Eveleen to Brian. “It -flowed on, and gained strength as it flowed—like a river—and I only -understanding a word here and there. And the poor Khan looking more -and more sheepish under the weight of compliments! And the whole thing -no good at all in the end!” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I deny that!” said Richard vigorously. “If it didn’t convince the -young gentleman, I shall always swear it brought him into an amiable -frame of mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“And how would he show that? Up to the present, he don’t seem to have -had much chance, between the two of you.” -</p> - -<p> -“He asked,” said Eveleen with dignity, “was the Beebee willing to give -him the seal of her own free will? <i>I</i> could understand that, and I -nodded my head as fast as I could go.” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite forgetting that y’ought have nodded up instead of down?” -chuckled Brian. “’Tis a scatter-brain y’are, Evie!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, he knew what I meant, because I held the thing out to him with -my sweetest smile, and he took it, and said to Ambrose his mother had -warned him he’d better accept a gift offered with goodwill than seize -an unwilling wife, and I was so thankful I didn’t interrupt the -proceedings to tell him he’d never have had a wife in me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Sure it’s well he’s a good boy and minds his mamma,” said Brian, his -tone a little puzzled. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but that was not all, then. I wondered would you see it. He said -to Ambrose: ‘The Bahadar Jang gave life to me, his enemy, when he sent -to warn me that my brother was seeking to compass my death. In return -I leave him his people, safe and sound.’ Then some more compliments, -and away he went. And that was the last we saw of him—except a cloud -of dust vanishing to the southward yesterday evening. But who’s this -coming in—Europeans?” -</p> - -<p> -“The great Bleackley coming to pay his respects to the rescued lady, -no doubt. And Keeling—you know him. Why, my dear girl, what’s the -matter?” for Eveleen had sprung up in terror. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s Tom. I ought have told you before. I was coming to it. But -they’ll likely not notice.” She shook an agitated finger at the figure -in the background. “Just pretend he ain’t there, Brian.” -</p> - -<p> -But evidently Colonel Bleackley was better informed than she hoped, -for when he had greeted her and Richard and congratulated them on -their escape and demanded a full account of their adventures later on, -he said blandly— -</p> - -<p> -“You have that renegade Thomas here, I understand. Like the fellow’s -impudence to take refuge with you. Wonder he ain’t ashamed to show his -face. The man who trained the Khans’ artillery and fired on the -Residency, I mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure he has saved our lives again and again. He’s only here now -because he came back to save us when he might have escaped,” urged -Eveleen hotly. “Ah, now, Colonel Bleackley, let the poor fellow go!” -</p> - -<p> -But Colonel Bleackley shook his head. “Impossible, my dear madam, -impossible! How could I answer to the General for such a piece of -folly? He will wish to deal with the fellow himself, I am certain, and -make an example of him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you trouble yourself, Miss Evie,” said Carthew, coming forward -in his shuffling way. “It was bound to come. I’ve never done anybody -much credit yet, but I’m glad it’s through helpin’ you and the Major -that I’ve got caught. Leave it at that.” -</p> - -<p> -But nothing was farther from Eveleen’s intentions, and the moment -Colonel Bleackley was gone—Carthew having been removed in custody -earlier—she attacked her brother again on the subject. -</p> - -<p> -“He must be let go, Brian—you must give the General no peace till he -pardons him. He had actually escaped—he went away with the Khan, -leaving us, as he thought, perfectly safe. Then one of the servants -let out that the younger Khanum—Jamal-ud-din’s mother—had left word -with the town authorities, and bribed them, to kill us and make out -we’d never been here at all, and poor Tom came riding back post-haste -to warn us. We were quite quiet and happy, not keeping any watch or -anything, but he got us into the tower beside the gateway, where there -was a little bit of a room with a tiny door, and there we stayed all -night—fearfully hot. The townspeople came prowling round the empty -courts and places, but Tom cocked his pistols very loud when they came -near us, and they were frightened. They must have thought you were not -coming to the city when you didn’t advance yesterday, for this morning -they sent word that ’twas all right, we were quite safe, for you were -coming, and when we sent Bearer up to the top of the gate to look, he -called out that ’twas so, and he danced for joy! But when poor Tom -tried to go away again the way the Khan had gone, the people stopped -him and wouldn’t let him go, and he came back here. We must save him, -or we’ll be disgraced for ever. Ambrose feels just precisely as I do -about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, my dear, I think if Carthew could make up his mind to face a -trial——” -</p> - -<p> -“But he can’t—you know he can’t. It ain’t his fault if he was born a -coward, and if it is, we have reason to be tender to his faults if any -one has. If you won’t help him escape, I will.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will,” said Brian; “but I won’t be melodramatic about it. I’ll just -get hold of the General.” -</p> - -<p> -And get hold of the General he did—when the expedition retraced its -steps to the riverside camp,—riding ahead to bear the news of all -that had happened. Officers and men streamed out joyously to welcome -Eveleen and her husband—Colonel Bleackley thought it was to welcome -him, and smiled on them graciously,—and Sir Harry himself rode out on -Black Prince, looking old and shaky, with his worn blue coat hanging -loose upon him, but his face wreathed with smiles. -</p> - -<p> -“I was never so delighted in my life!” he cried, as he shook hands -vigorously with the rescued ones. “It has been touch and go with me, -but I began to mend when I heard Haigh’s guns in the -distance—showing, as I hoped, that Kamal-ud-din had been brought to -action, and now the sight of Mrs Ambrose has wrought a complete cure! -No time to waste if we are to leave that plague-spot in time to get -across the river, but at least we can frizzle through the rest of the -hot weather in the shade at Qadirabad, instead of out in the desert.” -</p> - -<p> -“Y’ought take a little rest at Bab-us-Sahel yourself, Sir Harry,” said -Eveleen. “’Twould do you great good.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, well, all in good time. Lord Maryport has been kind enough to -bid me build a house there and do my work in a better climate than -Qadirabad. You and Ambrose may go down by road now in safety if you -choose, for the King of the Codgers has thrown up his hand. Vowed to -Doveton at Bab-us-Sahel that he would never come in to make his -submission with less than seven hundred retainers at his back, the old -rascal! but I sent him word he was to present himself in Qadirabad -without a follower of any sort, and he’s coming! So you may go when -you like—but with an escort this time, if you please, ma’am——” -Eveleen had the grace to look ashamed. “Keeping us all on the rack -with anxiety on your behalf—as if the hot weather wasn’t trying -enough by itself,—and taking up the services of my whole espionage to -find you, without even letting ’em have the satisfaction of doing it! -It’s to that brother of yours you owe it that you’re here, do you know -that?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do, Sir Harry, I do. Knowing him yourself, would you say he was one -to hide his trumpet under a bushel?” -</p> - -<p> -Sir Harry considered the metaphor gravely. “Perhaps not, -ma’am—perhaps not. But I owe him not a little gratitude for schooling -that fighting brute Dick Turpin for me. The beast is a reformed -character nowadays, by the look of him. I shall hear of it from the -Bombay papers, no doubt—a regular shout of execration of the wicked -officer who all but killed his horse. Or they’ll go a step farther, -and say he did kill him. Why not? paper and ink are cheap, and truth -is precious dear. Some day I shall see it set forth solemnly in print -that I eat an Arabit baby for my breakfast every morning, and insist -upon having ’em fat—ever since the mild and restraining influence of -the accomplished Colonel Bayard was so unfortunately withdrawn!” -</p> - -<p> -He spoke in jest, but as though with prevision of the paper warfare -that was to embitter the remainder of his life. The Flag might fly -from the round tower of Qadirabad, and in the cool chambers where the -Khans had passed their time drowsily in drugged slumber their -supplanter might work ten, twelve, eighteen hours a day upon plans for -the sanitary, economic, moral betterment of Khemistan. But the flow of -poisoned comment from Bombay was to know no rest, and the famous -Bayard-Lennox controversy, which raged unabated throughout both men’s -lives, and still divides historians, was to leave the home authorities -doubtful whether the annexation of Khemistan had not after all been a -piece of high-handed rascality perpetrated by the General on his own -authority, and to rob him and his force of their well-deserved -honours. Sir Harry could not see as far as this, however. -</p> - -<p> -“But I’ll do something for your brother myself,” he added -mysteriously. “He shall go down to Bombay in September with my nephew -Fred, and help him bring back my wife and girls. That’s a task to his -mind—eh? Don’t you tell him, ma’am—let it come as a surprise. -Where’s the fellow gone?” -</p> - -<p> -“Here he is,” said Eveleen, rather nervously, for Brian had rejoined -them in company with a sallow man in native dress, who seemed to shun -the curious glances thrown at him. “And this is the person who saved -our lives, Sir Harry.” -</p> - -<p> -The General looked searchingly at the renegade, then spoke briskly. -“An American, I understand, Mr Thomas?” -</p> - -<p> -It was the chance of escape, and Eveleen breathed again. But for once -Carthew held up his head and squared his shoulders. “No, General; I -can’t deny my country even to save my life. I am an Englishman.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing to boast of in your case, I fear. I am sorry to see you here. -At Qadirabad I shall be compelled to place you under strict arrest, -pending an enquiry into your case—at Qadirabad, do you understand?” -</p> - -<p> -If Carthew did not understand, Brian and Eveleen did, and the next -morning the two, going out for an early ride, halted near a tent on -the outskirts of the camp, mysteriously left unguarded. Brian led a -spare horse with well-filled saddle-bags, and when they rode on again -this horse had a rider. Out of sight of the camp, on the southward -route leading eventually to Kamal-ud-din’s refuge in the Delta, the -three halted. -</p> - -<p> -“Tom, you wouldn’t come back even now and face it?” asked Eveleen -anxiously. “The General would see you had a fair trial, and we would -all bear witness——” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t, Miss Evie.” Carthew’s habitual stoop and shifty manner had -returned. “I can’t face it. I’m shamed enough. The private soldiers -point their thumbs at me. They all know who I am—the chap that fired -on his own people. No, thankin’ you kindly, I’ll go where everybody -else is as bad as me.” -</p> - -<p> -“God bless you, Tom—even there—wherever you go!” and Eveleen and -Brian shook hands with him, and watched him ride away in the cool -light of the dawn. -</p> - -<p class="spacer"> -* * * * * * * * -</p> - -<p> -“I’m greatly pleased you have seen my sister—really made her -acquaintance, I mean.” Brian spoke with an anxiety which was a little -comic in view of the extreme youth of the lady he was addressing. Miss -Sally Lennox resembled her father too strongly to be called -good-looking, and Brian was the only person ever likely to claim that -the famous eagle-beak was an ornament to a feminine face. She was very -quiet in manner, even demure—an epithet which was not one of reproach -in those days. Brian and she were sitting on the steps leading to the -ramparts above the General’s house in the Fort, with the charitable -purpose of shielding the retreat of her elder sister and Captain -Stewart to the battlements overhead, where they were enjoying sweet -communion, all unconscious that Sir Harry was demanding his senior -aide-de-camp, and Lady Lennox looking for her step-daughter. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, Mamma gave me permission to spend the day with her. Papa was so -kind as to ask her for me.” Miss Sally was invariably proper to the -point of primness in her intercourse with her stepmother, which may -have accounted for some of the wisdom with which her father credited -her. -</p> - -<p> -“And you saw a good deal of her? And—and did you get on?” -</p> - -<p> -The amusement in Sally’s smile was not unmixed with gentle contempt. -She not to “get on” with any woman living—or to confess it if she did -not! “Oh, I assure you we got on delightfully. Mrs Ambrose was good -enough to describe all her adventures to me. How charmingly she -talks—so original and vivacious, ain’t she?” -</p> - -<p> -“And did you see Ambrose at all?” -</p> - -<p> -“He came in while I was there. I thought him a very agreeable, -gentlemanly person. I adore that dry cool manner.” The merest glint of -an upward glance through long eyelashes to observe how Brian received -this, which was naturally not with enthusiasm. -</p> - -<p> -“He’s a good fellow, of course. I wonder now—d’ye remember my telling -y’at Poonah I was troubled about my sister and Ambrose?—that they -didn’t seem quite to hit it off together.” -</p> - -<p> -“I remember it perfectly.” Again the smile. As though any information -was ever forgotten that had once been stored away beneath the smooth -bands of hair on that knowing little head! -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, did you notice anything of the kind—that he did not -appreciate her as he ought?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed. I thought them a most congenial couple.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, there y’are now! That was the very last thing I’d have said of -’em. Was it just my fancy after all? Wait now and I’ll tell you. When -I was on my way here with the General first of all, I heard a man in -the Club at Bombay telling a story of another man who went home at the -same time he did, to marry a lady he’d got engaged to years and years -before. This man was at a ball one night, and the second man came into -the supper-room looking like a ghost, and poured himself out a glass -of brandy neat. ‘What’s the matter?’ says the first fellow. ‘She’s -old—she’s old!’ he says—‘and she was the loveliest girl in the three -kingdoms.’ ‘But sure y’have seen her before to-night?’ says t’other. -‘Times and times, but always in the open, and on her horse. ’Tis a -picture she is then, as she always was. But to-night, dressed up among -all the girls——! And I have come eight thousand miles to marry her!’ -‘And did he marry her?’ asks one of the men that were listening. ‘Of -course,’ says the fellow—‘’tis the sort he is,’ and that was all. I -was not saying anything, naturally, but I made some enquiries -afterwards in a careless sort of way, and found the man that had -spoken was in Ireland about the time my sister was married. Tell me -now, what d’ye think?” -</p> - -<p> -This time Sally’s smile was very pleasant—almost compassionate. “Let -me tell you what I noticed,” she said. “Your sister and I were -together in her room when Major Ambrose came in from office. Your -sister rose to go and meet him, but remembered me and sat down again, -though I begged her not to make a stranger of me. Then he came and -looked round the curtain. ‘Er—I wanted just to know where you were, -my dear,’ he said. Now where should she be but there? It was not -necessary for him to come. He came because he wished to see her.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you gather from that——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray what would <i>you</i> gather?” -</p> - -<p> -“It sounds all right, don’t it? Well, that’s consoling, indeed. But -will you tell me, was it all right the whole time or not? Was I just -imagining things?” -</p> - -<p> -“How can I tell? And”—demurely—“do you think we ought to discuss -other people’s affairs in this way?” -</p> - -<p> -“But sure it’s my own sister, and for my own consolation. She was a -pretty good age, of course—bound to be after all those years. It’s -t’other way about with me, don’t you know? The girl I’ll marry will be -nothing but a babe in arms compared with me.” From some idea of the -reverence due to youth, Brian was wont to conduct his wooing in this -impersonal style, which was seen through by the lady with the greatest -ease. -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind!” she said kindly. “I am sure she will cherish the utmost -regard for you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I’ll be double her age! I’ll be a he-hag!” -</p> - -<p> -“It sounds rather like an ass,” murmured Sally. “Donkey” was a slang -word then—as “moke” is now, and impossible on the lips of Lady -Lennox’s step-daughter. -</p> - -<p> -“Then it sounds like what I am! But will it be that all poor Evie did -for her husband—when she saved his life, don’t you know,—will that -have turned his heart to her again?” -</p> - -<p> -“How sentimental we are becoming!” lightly. “No, I think not. Efforts -of that kind might prove her own affection for her husband, but could -hardly awaken his if it were dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then will you tell me what it was that did, O wise young judge?” -</p> - -<p> -“How can I say for certain? I can only suggest that Major Ambrose is -convinced by this time that his wife is one of the happy people who -never grow old——” -</p> - -<p> -“He is that, indeed. Have I not heard him myself times without number -cast it at her that she would never grow <i>up</i>?” -</p> - -<p> -“I had not quite finished.—And perhaps he finds himself prizing, -because they are hers, even those features in her character which he -used to resent.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cannot do without her—eh? But sure that’s a consequence, and I’m -asking you for a cause, a reason, an explanation!” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid that’s all I can give you,” meekly. -</p> - -<p> -“‘My wise little Sally!’” murmured Brian. -</p> - -<p> -“That is a quotation—from Papa, ain’t it?” reprovingly. -</p> - -<p> -“Quite so. But”—audaciously—“it’s a quotation which I trust one day -to make my own!” -</p> - -<p class="end"> -THE END. -</p> - - -<h2> -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. -</h2> - -<p> -Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg. -</p> - -<p> -This book is part of the author’s “Modern East” series. The full -series, in order, being: -</p> - -<div class="quote_o"><div class="quote_i"> -The Flag of the Adventurer<br/> -Two Strong Men<br/> -The Advanced-Guard<br/> -His Excellency’s English Governess<br/> -Peace With Honour<br/> -The Warden of the Marches -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent"> -<b>Alterations to the text</b>: -</p> - -<p> -A few minor punctuation corrections. -</p> - -<p> -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies have been left -as is. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Title Page] -</p> - -<p> -Add illustrator’s credit and brief note indicating this novel’s -position in the series. See above. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Footnotes] -</p> - -<p> -Place footnotes in square brackets inline with the text. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter I] -</p> - -<p> -Change “Shahbaz Khan, and his son, <i>Karimdad</i>” to <i>Karimdâd</i>. (Keeping -this character’s name consistent.) -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter V] -</p> - -<p> -“Have it your own way, my dear, You have your…” change the second -comma to a period. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XIII] -</p> - -<p> -“stopping the <i>daks</i> and attacking our boats” to <i>dâks</i>. (Keeping -this foreign word consistent.) -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XV] -</p> - -<p> -“gun was heard in front, then a regular <i>fusilade</i>” to <i>fusillade</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XVI] -</p> - -<p> -“there was no <i>respose</i> to the dismay in Colonel Bayard’s” to -<i>response</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXII] -</p> - -<p> -“because you’ve been <i>contrairy</i> wishing it” to <i>contrary</i>. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[End of Text] -</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG OF THE ADVENTURER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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