A haunting, half-superstitious dread beset Gerrard as he dressed the next morning, the presentiment that he would hear that Partab Singh had died in the night. After the determination the old man had shown in laying his plans, and the earnestness with which he had impressed them upon the Englishman, it would be eminently suitable dramatically, if absolutely fatal practically, that he should die before the steps could be taken to carry them out. But the foreboding proved to be baseless, and during the next few days Gerrard spent a good deal of time in close converse with the Rajah. The first step to be taken was undoubtedly to secure the approval of Colonel Antony, without whose active sympathy the great scheme would not have a chance of success. In his anxiety to assure the succession to his favourite child, Partab Singh had seriously compromised the jealously guarded independence of his state by his advances to the English as represented by Gerrard, and there could be no doubt that Granthis and Mohammedans would unite in resenting this betrayal. Hence, when the day of reckoning came, it was all-important to have not only the moral, but the physical support of the British secured, and it would be all the better if the agreement could be announced as an accomplished fact before the need arose to put it in practice. The Rajah had indeed confided his wishes to his most trusted councillors, but it was highly probable that in case of a popular rising these worthy gentlemen would find it more convenient, as it would certainly be safer, to forget the exact nature of the charge committed to them.
Adhering to his opinion that a personal interview between the Rajah and the Resident would be the surest way of enlisting Colonel Antony's sympathy for Kharrak Singh and his future, Gerrard now bent his efforts towards bringing this about. The disputed boundary between Agpur and Darwan afforded an excellent excuse for the Rajah to journey to his frontier and meet Charteris, who would hold the brief for Darwan, and if it could be so arranged that Colonel Antony should accidentally be in the neighbourhood, the thing would be done. Gerrard wrote urging his chief's presence with all the earnestness he could command, suggesting that if he could not come himself, he should depute his brother James to represent him. He then turned to the task of inducing Partab Singh to undertake the journey—a difficult endeavour, since he could not promise the desired interview at the end of it. A change had come over the Rajah since the evening when he had bestowed his confidence, and there was no doubt that he was failing. It seemed as though his vigour of body and mind had given way when he had once entrusted the care of his son to other hands, for Gerrard could distinctly trace the progress of decay in the short time he had known him, and the exertion of planning a move on such a large scale appeared to be too much for his strength. Since it was not to be supposed that this was a mere flying visit to the frontier, undertaken for a purpose, it must have all the characteristics of a royal progress, court, zenana, troops, elephants and guns, all accompanying their lord. The trusted councillors looked unutterable things at all Gerrard's suggestions, and military and civil officials combined to defeat all his arrangements by means of the dead weight of their inertia. The Rajah was willing to go, provided he had not to take any trouble, but he criticised freely all the points submitted to him, indicating how much simpler and less laborious it would have been if Gerrard had accepted his offers without insisting on referring things to his superiors. However, by dint of patience and resolution, the long train of men and baggage-animals was got under way at last, and with thankfulness Gerrard left the minarets of Agpur behind him. It was arranged that during the first day's journey, which was a very short one, he and his men should march with the Rajah's cavalcade, that he might notice anything neglected or forgotten and set it right, but that afterwards he should press on by forced marches, so as to meet Colonel Antony's returning couriers on the Darwan frontier, and if the tenor of the letters they bore should be disappointing, make a flying journey to Ranjitgarh itself, and urge his views upon the Resident. That this might be necessary he gathered from the latest instructions he had received—written, as he guessed, just before the arrival of his detailed report, and containing stringent warnings against committing the British Government on his own responsibility to any particular plan in dealing with Agpur.
The evening of the first day's march Gerrard spent with Partab Singh in his private audience-tent, laying plans which were to provide against the occurrence of all possible contingencies during his absence. At the close of the interview he took leave of the Rajah, whom he would only see from a distance as he rode away on the morrow, and received his urgent injunctions to let nothing delay his return, whether his mission was successful or not.
"For there is no one I can trust save you, O my friend," said the old man. "All these men, who flew to do my bidding when my eye was clear and my sword keen, are beginning to make plans for their own advantage, thinking that I cannot detect their guile. In your hands I can leave my son in confidence, but as for them, they would follow the banner of that other to-morrow if he offered them larger bribes."
Gerrard assured him that he would return as soon as he was allowed, and went back to his own tents, wondering whether he was doing well in leaving things to take care of themselves, even for so important an errand. Orders for an early start had already been issued, and when he wished to note down one or two things that had occurred during the day, his canteen served for a seat and a camel-trunk set on end for a table, Munshi Somwar Mal lending ink and a reed pen. Sleep seemed inclined to forsake the young man that night when at length he lay on his bed before the tent-door, the quarrelling round the camp-fires and the fidgeting of the horses waking him whenever he dropped into a doze. At last he succeeded in falling asleep, only to wake in a cold perspiration, and to find himself standing up and hastily girding on sword and revolver. What had awakened him he could not imagine, but he had a vague impression of a cry or wail of some sort. It was not repeated, and he unbuckled his belts and lay down again, mentally anathematizing the perfume mingled with the Rajah's tobacco, which must have given him nightmare. But when he woke again, in the grey light of early dawn, the air was full of the sound of wailing, and his Granthi officers and chief servants were gathered round his bed, respectfully waiting for his eyes to open.
"Hillo, I must have overslept!" he cried. "Get the men into order of march, Badan Hazari. I shall be dressed in no time."
"Do the orders of the Presence for the early start hold good?" asked the Granthi officer significantly.
"Why not? What in the world is that noise?"
"It is the wailing of the women in the Rajah's camp, sahib. HisHighness was found dead by his attendants in the night."
"What! murdered?"
"They say there are no marks of violence, sahib. Hearing no sound from the tent of audience after your honour had left, the servants ventured to peep in, and found his Highness stretched upon the cushions, dead."
"The Protector of the Poor is earnestly entreated to shed the light of his countenance upon the all-prevailing darkness in the camp," said a white-bearded old man, whom Gerrard knew to be the Rani's scribe. He rose hastily.
"I will be there immediately. The start is postponed for the present, Badan Hazari, but strike the tents ready for marching, and get ready a messenger at once to go to Darwan."
In the intervals of dressing he scribbled a hasty note to Charteris, telling him what had happened, and that he should probably return to the city at once, urging him also to forward the news immediately to Ranjitgarh, and ask for definite instructions. Having seen this despatched, he mounted and rode over to the Rajah's camp, which was in a state of the wildest confusion. The bodyguard, the only portion of the troops that could be trusted, were mounting guard round the zenana enclosure, into which the corpse of the Rajah had been carried, the Rani having, as Gerrard learned, at once sent out her jewellery to be divided among them, and thus secured their fidelity for the time. The rest of the soldiers, with the servants and transport-drivers, had evidently been holding high carnival outside the ring of steel. In the few hours which had elapsed since the ghastly discovery, the brocades and kincob of the audience-tents had been torn down and distributed, the cushions deprived of their rich covers, and the verygaddion which the Rajah's body had been found stripped of its damask. Even the carpets were gone from the floors, and the cotton ground-cloths torn in every direction. Gerrard's first task was the restoration of some measure of order. His boldness in taking command of the situation attracted the soldiers towards him, and he made a definite bid for their allegiance by the promise of large rewards to be distributed by Rajah Kharrak Singh at Agpur. Strict orders were issued against further plundering, and every man who had obtained nothing, or less than he expected, became a detective ready to hunt down his more fortunate comrade and secure the return of the spoils. Partab Singh's councillors and courtiers began to appear out of various hiding-places, and all expressed a most touching anxiety to be honoured with any commands from Gerrard. But before he had time to listen to them, the circle of soldiers round the zenana tents opened, and a little procession came out. Between the Rani's scribe and her spiritual adviser, a large Brahmin, came Kharrak Singh, with the royal umbrella held over his head, and a guard of the Rani's own Rajput servants following him. Marching up to Gerrard as he stood among the crowd of eager suitors in the devastated audience-tent, the boy took off his turban and laid it at his feet.
"The widow of Rajah Partab Singh kisses the footprints of Jirad Sahib, and entreats that she and her son may sit down under his shadow," he said perfunctorily, evidently repeating what had been taught him. "Jirad Sahib knows that I am Rajah now? He will make them give me a real sword, will he not?"
"Presently. At Agpur," said Gerrard hastily. Stooping, he took the child into his arms, and a gasp of satisfaction broke from the onlookers. Kharrak Singh's cause was to have the support of the English, as represented by this agent of Colonel Antony's.
Still holding the boy by the hand, Gerrard gave orders for an immediate return to Agpur, where the body of the Rajah might be burnt with due solemnity. Colonel Antony's warning against involving the British Government in responsibility came back to him with a touch of irony. This responsibility had thrust itself upon him, and the return to Agpur would involve further responsibility, in that he must proceed to secure the allegiance of the troops by the means prescribed by Partab Singh, and they would place themselves at the command of the man who paid them. Whether he was allowed to continue in the position or not, he was undoubtedly acting as Regent of Agpur for the present.
One man after another was dismissed to his duties, and retired with salaams, until practically only the old councillors were left. There was a guilty and subdued air of expectancy about some of them, a tendency to start at any sudden sound and look round suspiciously, which made Gerrard wonder what they were waiting for. But when the last soldier had stridden clanking out of the tent, a distant thudding became audible, like the approach of a body of horse. Significant glances passed between the men Gerrard had noticed, to be succeeded by an expression of utter guilelessness when they saw that they were observed, while those who were not in the secret began to show signs of fear. In the general disorder no guards had been posted on the outskirts of the camp, and the approaching cavalcade swept gorgeously up the broad avenue leading to the Rajah's tent, riding down the few who sought to challenge their passage. Gerrard turned hastily to the scribe and the Brahmin.
"Take the boy back to the zenana at once, and see that no one passes the guards, either going in or coming out, save by orders from me. Who is this that comes?" he demanded, facing round upon the councillors, as Kharrak Singh was hurried away.
"Who should it be but the eldest son of our lord, sahib?" was the answer, and as the old men spoke, Sher Singh flung himself from his reeking horse at the door of the tent and entered.
"Where is my lord and father?" he cried. "Bring me to him, that I may embrace his feet, and receive the forgiveness and the favour he has graciously promised me."
"Alas, Kunwar-ji!" chorused the councillors, all trying to push one another forward to tell the news. Sher Singh glanced at them contemptuously.
"Fools, will you try to keep me from my father now that he has sent for me? Because he has not made his beneficent intentions known to you, will you deny them? Let him be told that I am here, and you will learn what is his will."
"Prince, your venerable father passed away in the night," said Gerrard laconically. The exact bearing of this new arrival upon the situation he could not determine, but he was very certain that it behoved him to walk warily. Sher Singh turned upon him a magnificent glance of anger and disdain.
"This is well done—very well done!" he exclaimed, while the councillors cowered before the meaning accents like reeds before a blast. "My lord and father proclaims his gracious willingness to lay the hand of forgiveness upon the brow of penitence, and in the few short hours before the feet of haste can carry me to the spot, he dies, and his intentions are unfulfilled."
"Were his intentions known to any besides yourself, Prince?" asked Gerrard, and noted that the eyes of the councillors sought Sher Singh's face, as though to inquire what he wished them to say. But he disregarded them.
"I understand that Jirad Sahib has enjoyed the honour of the Rajah's confidence of late, to the neglect of his tried and trusted councillors. Is it possible that nothing was said to him of my father's wishes?"
"They were communicated to me in great detail, but you, Prince, bore no part in them whatever." Gerrard weighed his words carefully, feeling that the time had come to throw down the gauntlet.
Sher Singh turned slowly to the councillors, and Gerrard noticed for the first time that the armed men who had accompanied him were crowding at the entrance of the tent. "I call you all to witness," said the Prince deliberately, "that this stranger, this encroaching Feringhee, who has supplanted my father's natural councillors in his confidence, desires now to supplant me also in my rights. Brothers, friends, when he thought he had attained the height of his evil desires, and learned too late that he had only opened the path for me, what did he do? My father made his final decision last night, when he despatched to me with a gracious message of favour the runner who had carried my humble petition. Before I can arrive, before he can announce his determination to the world, he dies. Who stands to profit by his death?"
Before the last words were out of Sher Singh's mouth, the tent was filled with the clash of weapons. The armed men in the entrance sprang forward at Gerrard, who believed that his last moment had come. But to his amazement a ring of bucklers encompassed him. The six Rajputs had remained when Kharrak Singh was taken away, and they stepped before him with ready swords. Baulked of the easy prey they had expected, Sher Singh's men hesitated, and the councillors flung themselves into the breach, weeping, clutching at the Prince's coat, urging in tremulous voices the impolicy of slaying a British envoy and thus bringing destruction upon Agpur. Sher Singh allowed himself to be turned from his immediate purpose.
"Let the Feringhee live for the present," he said, waving his followers back. "Speak, O Jirad Sahib, you who hide behind the servants of a woman, and tell me who stood to profit by my father's death?"
"You!" returned Gerrard promptly. "You, who have trumped up this story of a reconciliation, and come here to assert it now that he cannot contradict you. You, of whom your father spoke to me with aversion and absolute lack of forgiveness only last night. Tell me," he turned to the councillors, "when did this messenger of Kunwar Sher Singh's arrive—before my visit to his Highness, or after I had left him? You, O Sarfaraz Khan, as keeper of his Highness's head, must know all who entered or left his presence. When was it?"
The old Mohammedan captain of the guard gazed miserably from Gerrard to Sher Singh and back again, and finally faltered out that to the best of his recollection it was before the Sahib's visit.
"Then the petition had been rejected before I arrived, and the messenger despatched bearing the Rajah's refusal to see his son's face," said Gerrard.
"The man lies. It was after," burst forth Sher Singh. "Here is SadaSukhi, the king's friend, who can testify it."
"Then," said Gerrard calmly, "the messenger murdered the Rajah, since both my guards and his own can testify that he bade me farewell in good health at the door of this very tent, and did me the honour to admire my horse."
"Fool! does a man murder the one who has just promised to give him all he desires?" cried Sher Singh.
"No, but he does sometimes murder the one who has refused it. And soPrince Sher Singh was his own messenger?"
"It is a lie—I swear it!" He appealed frantically to the bystanders. "I was at Adamkot, the fortress of my father-in-law, and rode forth on the very heels of my messenger, so eager was I to receive my father's answer. Then when the gracious response arrived—the messenger meeting me on the way—as I could set no bounds to my joy, even so was it with my speed, and I rode hither at a pace that was like to kill my horse and the horses of those that were with me."
Gerrard dismissed the explanation with a wave of the hand, but old Sada Sukhi, who had succeeded Dwarika Nath as Diwan, and was by common consent the wiliest man in Agpur, cringed humbly forward.
"I will take it upon me to speak, worthless as I am, in the presence of these great ones," he murmured. "Surely there is wrong in speaking of murder, since no sign of any such horror has been found. But if our lord Partab Singh Rajah died in the course of nature, then Kunwar Sher Singh has been unjustly accused by Jirad Sahib, and Jirad Sahib by Sher Singh. Is this a moment to bandy accusations that cannot be maintained, when our lord's body lies unburnt, and all our minds should be devoted to mourning him and paying fitting reverence to his obsequies?"
"Truly do they call thee wise, old man!" said Sher Singh heartily. "My sorrow comes upon me as a flood at thy words, and I desire only to mourn my beloved father."
"But wait," said Gerrard. "The Prince knows as well as I do, and you also, Diwan-ji, how much depends upon the funeral ceremony. It was the will of Partab Singh Rajah that his son Kharrak Singh should set light to the pyre as chief mourner, and as his successor on thegaddi."
Sher Singh covered his face. "Dust is on my head, that an evil chance has come between me and my desire!" he said in a broken voice. "What is thegaddito me, if I am deprived of my father's forgiveness? The right of deciding upon his successor was his, and he has exercised it in favour of Kharrak Singh. The child's mother is of royal blood, mine was not, and I bow to the decree. But I will not consent to be robbed of my right to walk beside my brother in the procession, and to guide his hand when he fires the pile. The pyre of Partab Singh Rajah and his Rani shall not be left to the care of a Feringhee and a Christian."
"There will be no suttee," said Gerrard decisively.
"The matter is not in your hands, Jirad Sahib," said Sher Singh, as a murmur broke from the councillors. "When the meanest of the Ranjitgarh Maharajas died, two Ranis and eleven women-slaves bore him company to the tomb, and shall Partab Singh lack the tribute of respect? I think more highly of the dwellers behind the curtain than you do, if you dream that they will permit themselves to be prevented from performing this glorious duty."
"Not the meanest slave-girl shall ascend the pyre," repeated Gerrard. "The Rani Gulab Kur is bound by an oath imposed upon her by your father to live and watch over her son, and I shall prevent the sacrifice of any other woman."
"You! and by what authority?"
"By the authority of the Rani, who is regent of Agpur by the will ofRajah Partab Singh."
Sher Singh turned to the rest, his face convulsed with fury. "You hear this low-born one, how he denies me my natural rights, and would deprive my father of the customary honours? Am not I rightfully regent during my brother's minority? If I advance no claim to thegaddi, do you think that I am to be set aside altogether? Let this man Jirad know that I have the promise of Antni Sahib's support."
"When Colonel Antony's instructions reach me, I will hasten to acknowledge you as co-regent," said Gerrard. "Until then, I take my orders from the Rani alone, and exercise the powers she has conferred upon me."
"Come aside with me and let us speak together," said Sher Singh imperiously. "See, I am unarmed," casting sword and dagger on the ground. Gerrard laid aside his sword and revolver, and walked with him to the back of the tent.
"I do not desire your death, sahib," said Sher Singh eagerly. "You can see for yourself that it would prejudice me with Antni Sahib, whose favour I desire to retain. But the army is with me, and will acclaim me as regent, and that place I will not give up. It might be very greatly to your advantage if you could make it convenient to recollect my father's desiring you to admit me to a third share of power with yourself and the Rani Gulab Kur."
"It is impossible for me to recollect what did not happen," saidGerrard, turning away coldly. Sher Singh's voice pursued him.
"Then until we start the way will be open for you to return to Darwan with your own troops if you desire it. After that, if you still insist on accompanying me to the city—by the Guru, you shall see more of it than you care for!"
Gerrard beckoned to his Granthi orderly, who came up quickly. "Bid Badan Hazari parade the troop in mourning order, ready to ride to Agpur at the appointed time," he said.
"In an evil day for yourself were you born, O youth of little wisdom!" said Sher Singh, and withdrew. The Rajputs followed Gerrard closely as he also left the tent, and approached the zenana enclosure, where the less important tents were already being struck in preparation for the return march. The scribe was looking out for him, and the guards allowed the old man to pass.
"Sahib," he whispered fearfully, "it was murder. Our lord Partab Singh was stabbed with a needle dagger above the heart, so that he would not bleed, and the weapon was broken in the wound. Only a scratch is visible, and her Highness has bound all who saw it to silence, that that other may not learn that his wickedness has been discovered. But she desires me to say to your honour that evil is certainly determined, and to bid you depart in safety while you may, that you share not the fate of her son and herself."
"I go to Agpur to set Kharrak Singh on thegaddi," said Gerrard doggedly. "Bid the Rani beware of poison, and eat and drink nothing that has not been prepared by one she trusts."
"The Cherisher of the Poor forgets that her Highness is fasting," said the scribe, scandalized.
"So much the better. But look after the boy, and see that he accepts food from no one outside. And tell the Rani to permit no one, freewoman or slave, to quit the zenana without an order from me. There is to be no suttee."
"Is it true that we ride to Agpur, sahib?" Badan Hazari, coming to report the troop ready for the march, lingered to ask the question.
"It is true. See to it that we take our place in the procession on the right of the elephant bearing the Rajah's body. Prince Sher Singh will ride on the left, but on no account are his followers to be permitted to surround the corpse."
"It is an order, sahib. But they say that the man Sher Singh desires to dissuade your honour from going to Agpur, and that he has given you much abuse."
"Evil heart, evil tongue, Sirdar-ji. Yet I go to Agpur, though I would have bidden you and the troop return to Darwan, had I not known that this would be to insult you."
The Granthi made a horrified gesture of aversion. "Black indeed would our faces be!" he said. "Trust me, sahib, there will be a great killing before your slaves go down before the onslaught of the Agpuri mongrels. But is your honour well advised in remaining here until the march begins?"
"I am at the Rani's disposal, and must wait for any orders she is pleased to give. But send hither Mohammed Jan with some food, for I am not minded to eat what is prepared in this camp."
"Your honour is wise," said Badan Hazari, and before long the servant arrived, carrying a tray, and escorted by two stalwart troopers. Gerrard ate and drank eagerly, for he had taken nothing since rising, and it would be necessary to scrutinise all food and drink very carefully for poison during the next two or three days. Having dismissed Mohammed Jan, he summoned to a conference Rukn-ud-din, the officer second in command of the Rajah's bodyguard, since old Sarfaraz Khan was evidently not to be trusted. With this man he arranged that the litters containing the Rani and her son and the other inmates of the zenana should follow immediately after the elephant carrying the corpse, surrounded by the guards, so that Gerrard and his men, in their station on the right of the animal, would be continuously in touch with them, and either party would be ready to help the other in case of emergency. Then, having taken all the precautions he could think of, he could only wait patiently until the worst heat of the day was over, and the time came for the start. His reflections were not particularly pleasant as he mounted his horse at last. Sher Singh had no doubt spent the intervening hours in strengthening his hold on the court and the troops by means of lavish promises, which the Englishman durst not emulate as yet, since his power to fulfil them would depend upon his gaining a peaceful and undisturbed entrance to the palace. Badan Hazari and the officer of the bodyguard had carried out their instructions most dexterously, and Sher Singh appeared resigned to his inferior position, but there was obvious resentment among the rest of the troops at the impudence of the Feringhee in putting himself forward. When their numbers were reinforced by the notoriously violent mob of Agpur, they would easily overwhelm the little force of Ranjitgarh troopers and the guards loyal to the Rani. The situation was practically hopeless, since safety hung upon the very slender thread of Sher Singh's judgment. Would his self-interest prompt him to avoid at all costs bringing down upon himself British vengeance, or to snatch the immediate advantage of wiping out all his opponents at one blow, and taking the consequences? Since this was the course likely to commend itself to the people of Agpur, there could be little doubt how he would decide. Yet Gerrard had no choice, if he was to keep his promise to Partab Singh at all. Had he taken the road to Darwan with his escort, he might eventually have returned at the head of larger forces, but it would have been to find that the Rani had been drugged and hurried to the funeral pyre, and that Kharrak Singh had "died of grief"—little likely as the vivacious youngster appeared to succumb to such a fate.
The heat of the day was by no means over, though it was late in the afternoon, and actual bodily discomfort almost blotted out thought as Gerrard rode on through the dust, the landscape ahead one blinding glare of trembling, moving lines. He was on the sunny side of the elephant, and on the other Sher Singh seemed to find shade enough to stimulate his inventive faculties. At any rate, he was talking loudly to his friends, and the words which Gerrard overheard occasionally assured him that they were devising unpleasant experiences for him. Beside him the great beast swung patiently along, and behind came the zenana litters, their golden draperies covered by way of mourning with coarse cotton cloth, so as to shut out every possible breath of air. The towers and minarets of Agpur began at last to grow visible through the wavering haze, and Gerrard realised that a grove of trees surrounding a saint's tomb, which they were approaching, would be the scene of a halt to rearrange the procession and enable it to enter the city with proper dignity. There might even be troops waiting there, summoned by Sher Singh when he found himself worsted in the moral combat, and in that case the struggle would take place immediately, and could have but one result. Gerrard felt that he really did not much mind how soon it came, but he roused himself angrily from the lethargy which was creeping over him, and called up Badan Hazari and Rukn-ud-din to acquaint them with his intention of seizing the tomb if there was any sign of hostilities, and getting the corpse and the women into the courtyard, where the guard might close the gates and defend them for a time. Even as he spoke, the outlines of the trees became clearer, and he saw that there were certainly mounted men waiting under their shadow. He was turning to give the order which would have sent Badan Hazari and half his men to drive Sher Singh from the other side of the elephant, and turned the stately procession into a wild rush for the tomb, when it struck him that one of the men under the trees wore the curtained forage-cap of a European. Hardly able to believe his eyes, he rode forward a little, and as he did so. Bob Charteris, comparatively cool and apparently quite comfortable, came out from under the trees to meet him. Gerrard had no words of greeting at command.
"How many men have you?" he asked hoarsely.
"Only fifty here, but the rest of my forces are behind, and the Ranjitgarh army is behind them," said Charteris easily. Sher Singh had ridden up in obvious alarm, and Charteris bowed to him. "I ride with a small escort, Prince, to show the last tokens of respect to your father, but as I was saying to my friend, I have not only my Darwanis, but the Ranjitgarh army behind me."
"But what should the Ranjitgarh army be doing in Agpur?" demanded SherSingh.
"Why, it is not exactly in Agpur territory, but merely ready to enter it, in case Colonel Antony does not receive every day satisfactory reports from my friend here and myself."
"Does Antni Sahib not trust me, that he thus blackens the face of his most faithful slave?" cried Sher Singh.
"Ah, you should not have left Darwan without replying to my messages, you know," said Charteris. Sher Singh's self-assertion collapsed.
"I have acted foolishly," he said. "For doing wrong I am rightly punished. The gracious rebuke of Antni Sahib I lay upon my forehead and my eyes, and submit."
"Such wisdom is only what was expected from you, Prince."
"And the heaven-born messenger of Antni Sahib"—pursued Sher Singh feverishly—"him I receive with honour, and place his foot upon my head, but to the man Jirad I have nothing to say, nor will I hear a word from his mouth."
"Now you are foolish again," said Charteris gravely. "If Lieutenant Gerrard is good enough to entrust his commands to me, I will convey them to you, but that is a matter in which he decides and you obey. I see you are making a short halt here, and I may be able to wait upon you with instructions before long." Sher Singh moved aside, with a distinctly unamiable expression of countenance, and Charteris turned back to Gerrard.
"Why, Hal, what's the matter, old boy? Didn't I maintain your authority strongly enough to please you?"
"You seem to have worked a miracle," said Gerrard feebly, "but I'm a bit done up—couldn't see how you did it."
"A rest and something cool to drink is what you want," said Charteris, half helping, half pulling him off his horse. "Lie down here and take this. I give you fair warning, Master Gerrard, you ain't going to die on my hands and leave me to settle with this hornet's nest you have stirred up here—not if I know it."
Gerrard obeyed meekly, and lay still until the trees and Charteris and the horses and the troopers had ceased whirling and wavering before his eyes. Then he sat up. "Bob, what was it you told Sher Singh? How can it have happened?"
"Bounce, all bounce!" said Charteris sadly. "At least, my Darwanis are certainly behind me, but a jolly good way behind; and as to Antony, if he is on the move, it's solely in response to my urgent entreaties, which he is highly unlikely to regard with favour."
"Anyhow, you seem to have got me out of a very nasty fix."
"Such was my intention. But you wish it hadn't fallen to me to get you out? Never mind, old boy; I wish it hadn't been you to be got out."
"Oh, nonsense! You know I'm uncommon obliged to you, my dear fellow. But did you fly here? It can't possibly be my message this morning that brought you."
"Lie down like a decent Christian and don't talk, and I'll tell you all about it. You don't seem to realise that you have had a precious narrow escape of sunstroke. Well, you don't need me to tell you that I have been keeping a vigilant eye on your proceedings for some time, with a shrewd suspicion that the air of the very high circles in which you were moving would not be good for your health. I felt so more than ever when my spies brought me word that Sher Singh was sneaking through my territory, evidently bound for Agpur. I sent him my salaams and a polite invitation to pay me a visit, but he had made himself scarce just in time. Then I thought it well to take the liberty of opening a letter of Antony's to you, as we agreed I should do in case of emergency, and when I found him cautioning you against any interference in the question of the Agpur succession, and talking of the extraordinary moderation of the claim advanced by the elder son, I decided it was time to move. So I set out to meet you on your way to the frontier, ostensibly to make arrangements for receiving the Rajah properly. This morning the people in the village where we halted for the night were full of the Rajah's death. As usual, nothing would make them say how they knew of it, but they were firm on the fact, so I saw the plot was thickening. Then, as we rode, we came across your messenger, and it was clear that the fat was in the fire already. I sent him on at once, with letters to my fellows in Darwan, and to try and open Antony's eyes, and made straight for thistopeto intercept you."
"And to save all our lives," said Gerrard. "My dear Bob, how can I thank you?"
"Don't want to be thanked," growled Charteris. "If you don't know from your own feelings how I hated doing it, you ought to, that's all. Never mind, you'll do something of the same sort for me one day, and then I shall have the crow over you. And now just give me some idea of the state of affairs. Keep your silly head quiet, can't you? I didn't tell you to get up. Well, put your back against the tree, if youmustsit up. Who killer Cock Robin—that is to say, Partab Singh?"
"Either Sher Singh or some emissary of his."
"Not openly, then?"
"No, in the night. The wound was so small that it escaped notice at first. I charged Sher Singh with the murder on suspicion merely. He may not know that the truth has been discovered."
"Never show your teeth unless you can bite," said Charteris sententiously. "What does the opposition party consist of?"
"Little Kharrak Singh and his mother, whom Sher Singh wishes to become suttee."
Charteris whistled. "And which is more important—to bring home theRajah's death to Sher Singh, or to save the Rani?"
"For Kharrak Singh's sake, to save his mother, undoubtedly. But now you are here, I hope to do both."
"We shall see about that. I gather from what you said in your letter last week that you know where to lay hands upon a sum of money sufficient to secure the loyalty of the army?"
"Yes, but to get at it I must be inside the palace enclosure, and even then I shall need your help."
"On the whole, my young friend,"—Charteris's voice was didactic in the extreme,—"you seem to me to have contrived to surround yourself with the materials for a very pretty row. Be thankful that you have at hand the services of a person of experience and knowledge of the world—myself, sir,"—with a resounding thump on his chest,—"to extricate you from a situation of uncommon difficulty and delicacy for one so young. You place yourself unreservedly in my hands?"
"Not a bit of it!" said Gerrard, struggling up, only to be pressed down again by Charteris's grip upon his shoulders.
"My dear Hal, you do. There's no other course open to you. Sher Singh has the big battalions, and though I admire your design of capturing Agpur with no weapons but cool cheek and shaky promises, I have a mean objection to adding my bones to the heap that would be the result. It is eminently a case for negociation, and here is the negociator. You stay where you are, and get ready to ride into Agpur to-night, 'pride in your port, defiance in your eye,' while I try my blandishments upon that nasty uncertain beggar, Sher Singh."
Gerrard obeyed perforce, for the effort to stand had brought back the feeling of giddiness, and Charteris clanked off among the trees. Presently Badan Hazari came very quietly, and peered round a trunk to see whether his commander was awake. Gerrard called to him.
"Heaven-born!" said the Granthi, saluting. "I have ventured to disturb the repose of your honour at the request of Komadan Rukn-ud-din."
Gerrard started. "Bring him here," he said. "What is it?"
"They are trying to corrupt the guard, sahib," and Rukn-ud-din confirmed the assertion. Since the halt, old Sarfaraz Khan had been in and out among the men, making them lavish offers if they would forsake the Rani and come over to the side of Sher Singh.
"What has he offered them?" asked Gerrard.
"The plunder of thetosha khana[1] in the palace, sahib."
"And that is all he has to offer, and they must share it with the whole army? Tell them that in Kharrak Singh Rajah's name I promise them such a reward for their fidelity that they would pass by thetosha khanawith contempt if it were thrown open to them."
The Mohammedan's eyes glittered. "How shall I make them believe so wonderful a thing, sahib?"
"I cannot speak more particularly here. But you may give them my word it is so."
"The word of the Presence will be amply sufficient." Rukn-ud-din salaamed and withdrew on leave being given, while Badan Hazari lingered to report that the corpse and the women were halted in the courtyard of the tomb, according to his orders, and that the guard, though evidently disturbed in mind by Sher Singh's overtures, had so far faithfully prevented him and his followers from entering. That they would now remain loyal to the Rani there was no doubt, and Gerrard waited with something more of hopefulness for Charteris's return. He came at last, and sat down on the rug which had been spread for his friend.
"We shall have to be moving soon," he remarked casually. "The news has reached the city, and the mourners are coming out. The funeral will take place in the morning."
"But you have forgotten—the murder!" gasped Gerrard.
"I have forgotten nothing, but things are settled in the approved diplomatic style, by concessions on both sides. There is just about time to tell you—but of course you understand that you are the moving spirit throughout; I am merely your mouthpiece. Sher Singh consents that there shall be no suttee, and you agree not to interfere with the funeral—in other words, to make no inquiry into the cause of the Rajah's death."
"In other words, to condone an atrocious crime."
"My dear Hal, what did you propose doing? If you were thinking of laying violent hands on the corpse—but that would be absurd. The Brahmins would tear us to pieces with their bare hands. You know we should defile it and bring indelible disgrace on Kharrak Singh if we even approached too near. A post-mortem? Who do you suggest should perform it? Moraes is about the figure for the job, ain't he? Show a little common-sense."
"If the thing is so impossible, why should Sher Singh make an important concession to avoid it?"
"Because it would raise nasty rumours if we made the attempt, and getting rid of us would prejudice him with Antony. Remember, you have no evidence. If Partab Singh was murdered, who is going to prove that Sher Singh did it? You secure an important advantage at the cost of giving up the right to make a gigantic fool of yourself."
"But who is to see that Sher Singh keeps his word and does not arrange a suttee?"
"You and I, of course. We attend the funeral, naturally, with all our sowars, to show due honour to the deceased. By the bye, that reminds me, we should be rather an easy prey after firing the volleys. The front rank had better load with ball, and reserve their fire, and only the rear rank fire with blank. In the smoke and noise it won't be noticed that only half the men have fired, and we shan't be defenceless if Sher Singh takes it into his head to let the army loose on us."
"But you seem to be allowing Sher Singh to take the lead in all the funeral arrangements, which is exactly the matter in dispute."
"To be sure. There comes in the second concession. We, with the bodyguard and our own men, are to occupy the palace enclosure to-night, and watch over the safety of the corpse and the women, in return for allowing Sher Singh to walk next to young Kharrak Singh in the procession, and guide his hand when he fires the pile. Why that lowering brow? The possession of the palace is all-important to you, ain't it?"
"Yes, and even more now than when you left me. But to concede SherSingh's claim——"
"My good Hal, the man is next heir. If anything happens to the youngster, he must be Rajah, there's no one else. You may be thankful he don't claim to mount thegaddiat once. But since he is content to stand aside, and has contrived to gull Antony into taking his part——"
"That's merely temporary, Bob, believe me. When the Colonel learns the scoundrel's real character, he will withdraw his support in disgust."
"I'm none so sure of that. Remember his fatal predilection for black sheep. What about his handing over Bala to Tika Singh, after he himself had exhausted all the resources of the English language in finding suitably opprobrious epithets for him? The Bala people hated him, too, whereas I gather that the Agpuris have no particular dislike for Sher Singh."
"Nor to any one that will bribe them," said Gerrard bitterly. "You think Antony will make him Regent, then I."
"It would be in accordance with the usual custom, wouldn't it? I suppose the next heir wishes to look after his prospective dominions, but I'll own it always seems to me uncommon hard on the reigning child. However, for the present, Sher Singh acknowledges the Rani as sole Regent, and consents to refer the difference between you and himself to Antony and the Ranjitgarh Durbar. How could poor old Partab Singh ever have thought of making you Regent? If Antony don't treat you to a pretty wigging on the score of it, I'll eat my hat."
"It was a kind of fixed idea of his, though I told him over and over again it was impossible."
"Well, if it had been me, hanged if I wouldn't have taken the job, as the wigging is bound to come anyhow. A man might do a good deal while the runners were going to Ranjitgarh and back. But as Antony will probably punish your misdeeds by sentencing you to stay on here and keep the peace between the rival Regents, it's just as well you didn't make yourself impossible by accepting. Can't say I envy you the billet."
"I am almost inclined to ask you to shoot me through the head and put me out of my misery," remarked Gerrard.
"Oh, cheer up! We may all be shot down in a heap to-morrow, you know, in spite of my powers of persuasion. But I don't fancy you will, somehow. Sher Singh asked me very mysteriously whether you knew the secret of the entrance to his father's private treasury. Not knowing I couldn't say, but I can be mysterious too, and I told him there were some things that couldn't be spoken about. He seemed to take that as an affirmative, and I think he felt that to shut you up there to feed on gold was about the only thing that would fit the case. But, by the way, how is it that he leaves the palace to you to-night, if he believes you know the secret?"
"He don't know it himself. I am the only living creature that does, now, and you are the only living creature that I may reveal it to."
"An honour likely to be associated with sudden and painful death—eh? But I'm game. And as your principal duty in connection with the treasury will probably be to pay out of it Sher Singh's allowance as fixed by the Ranjitgarh Durbar, I don't fancy you'll enjoy a bed of roses."
[1] Treasury.
Owing to the combined influence of Charteris's strong hand, Gerrard's lavish promises to the army, and what Colonel Antony chose to style the "moderation" of Sher Singh, the succession of Kharrak Singh to his father's throne was effected without general bloodshed. The city was evidently seething with all the possibilities of revolt when the funeral procession entered and passed through the streets, but the army was staunch for the moment—apparently from a sportsmanlike readiness to allow Gerrard to redeem his promises if he could—and one or two attempts at disturbance were ruthlessly put down. The women and the corpse of Partab Singh were got safely into the palace, and Sher Singh, who would have liked to edge in under cover of the confusion, dexterously excluded. The walls were garrisoned by the loyal guard, the disappointed Sher Singh quartering himself with his followers in the house of a reluctant Armenian near at hand, and Gerrard and Charteris spent an arduous night in getting up from the secret treasury an amount sufficient to fulfil their obligations. The heads of the goldsmiths' guild had been warned to be in attendance early in the morning, and they came with a mixture of surly defiance and ostentation of poverty that showed they expected Gerrard's financial expedient to take the form of obtaining a forced loan from them. The sight of the gold ingots softened them wonderfully, and though it would not have been human nature had they failed to exact an exorbitant rate of exchange for their silver, both sides parted well pleased, the money-changers only grieving that they could not discover whether this transaction was a final one, or merely a prelude to further business of the same sort.
The military arrangements for the funeral were made by Gerrard and Charteris, who were quite aware that they and their men, in the character of sympathetic spectators, were in as great danger as Kharrak Singh himself. The army must be entrusted with the duty of keeping the ground, since it was necessary for the guard, with the exception of a small detachment, to remain at the palace and garrison it in case of a surprise attack, and had the army been ill-disposed, it could have swept away both claimants and the small Ranjitgarh force with a single volley. But the army remained unmoved, and Sher Singh walked behind Kharrak Singh as mourner, and guided his hand when he set light to the great pyre of sandalwood dripping with costly perfumes. It was the first time that the body of a Rajah of Agpur had been burnt without the accompanying self-immolation of a number of his women, and troops and Brahmins were alike displeased, while the mob surging outside the lines enlivened the ceremony with taunts and maledictions. The troops made various raids into the crowd to punish the most outspoken of the dissentients, and this may have served to assure the people that there would be no change in the drastic methods of Partab Singh. At any rate, when the dead man's two sons had watched the pyre burn down into ashes, had performed the ceremonies of purification and were returning—on separate elephants, for the Rani had insisted on this—to the square before the palace for the proclamation of the new Rajah, the mob acclaimed Kharrak Singh with ardour.
There was some approach to a riot when Partab Singh's will was made known, appointing the Rani Gulab Kur regent for her son Kharrak Singh, and begging Gerrard to undertake the office of protector to both, and loud cries were raised for Sher Singh; but when it was announced that Sher Singh had consented to refer the question of his appointment as joint-regent to the arbitration of the Ranjitgarh Durbar, the popular wrath was turned against him also. Both he and the Rani were equally committed to what the Agpuris considered a traitorous and unpatriotic reliance on Ranjitgarh and the English, and the stern unbending advocates of independence were for getting rid of both. But at present the executive power lay in the hands of the army, and the army was being placated with gifts of rupees to the rank and file, and of jewellery, swords, shawls, and robes of honour to the officers. The army thereupon decided that the promises made in Kharrak Singh's name had been kept, and that it would be worth waiting to see if he had more largess to distribute before turning against him. The local Durbar, seeing the course things were taking, adapted itself to circumstances with great readiness, and paid its respects to the Rani Gulab Kur through her curtain, having purged itself of the irreconcilables who demanded an instant massacre and an open defiance of the English and of their allies at Ranjitgarh.
No sooner was this peaceful settlement reached, than Gerrard received peremptory orders to leave Charteris in charge at Agpur, and present himself at Ranjitgarh, with all documents and witnesses bearing on the case, that Sher Singh's claim and Partab Singh's testamentary dispositions might be inquired into. If he had been a little inclined to plume himself on the success he and Charteris had achieved, he was now to meet with a wholesome corrective, for Colonel Antony was much displeased with him, and showed it plainly. He had added infinitely to the already overwhelming cares of the Resident at Ranjitgarh, and had brought into close political union with the British power a province which would have been much better left to itself. He should have drawn back at once when Partab Singh showed signs of wishing to cultivate his personal rather than his political friendship, and left the rival heirs to settle things between themselves, instead of allowing himself to be made the tool of an ambitious woman and a doating old man.
So convinced was Colonel Antony of the righteousness of Sher Singh's cause that for once he overbore the opposition of his Durbar. The Durbar considered that Partab Singh's recorded disinheritance of his elder son, and the presumed reasons for it, which were known by hearsay to every story-teller in Granthistan, were sufficient to bar his recognition as regent and heir presumptive; but Colonel Antony thought that the secrecy with which the Prince had been condemned, and the absence of any documentary evidence, rendered it extremely probable that his father had been misled by false information, and condemned him unheard and innocent. Therefore the unwilling Durbar were impelled in the way which they were reluctant to take of their own accord, and Mr James Antony was despatched to Ranjitgarh to interview the Rani through the curtain, and inform her that she was thenceforth to regard her stepson as her coadjutor in the work of government. The envoy expected tears and lamentations, and pathetic attempts to induce the Resident to alter his decision, but the Rajput lady fought with other than women's weapons. In clear cold tones she issued her ultimatum. Sher Singh was to be absolutely debarred access to the palace, and was to make no attempt to communicate with her otherwise than by messenger, and Gerrard was to be appointed Resident at Agpur, with quarters in the fort, and the special task of watching over the safety of Kharrak Singh. Otherwise the Rani would poison herself and her son and every soul in the zenana, and then set fire to the building, that the ashes might remain for ever as a monument to the perfidy of the English.
James Antony tried reasoning and threats, but in vain. The only answer to his remonstrances was an intimation from the Rani that she declined to receive him again until he had referred the matter to Ranjitgarh and could bring her a definite answer. Not, perhaps, wholly unwilling to demonstrate the ill success of his brother's theories, he did as she desired, recommending that Gerrard should become acting-Resident, with the duty of keeping the peace between the two Regents, and serving as a means of communication between them. Colonel Antony was very angry, but Gerrard was so obviously the only possible person for such a post, in view of the confidence reposed in him by Partab Singh, that he gave way, telling him, as Charteris had done before, that the difficulties of the position would in all probability make it more of a punishment than promotion. With this cheering prophecy in his ears Gerrard departed for Agpur, and Charteris, riding out to meet him, saw at once that he was in low spirits. He gave no hint of his discovery, however, until the state entry into the city and the first formal visits were over, and the two were left to themselves at the Residency, which Charteris had employed the interval in fortifying, according to a plan drawn out by Gerrard before he left, so that it formed a kind of minor citadel inside the great palace enclosure. They were sitting on the broad verandah, with its tiled roof supported by solid pillars of masonry, which had served as frame to one of Gerrard's pictures of imaginary bliss, when Charteris broke the silence.
"Well, you are in the blues, my boy, and no mistake! What's the meaning of it? Here are you just returned from the giddy haunts of society and fashion, with a face as long as one of Padri Jardine's sermons, while I, who have seen no European countenance for a month but the rough-hewn phiz of our Mr James, am as cheerful as a cricket."
"Result of having got what I wanted, I suppose Antony would say. Did you indulge a sneaking hope of gaining a little credit on the score of our exploits here, Bob?"
"Hardly. There's a prejudice nowadays against subalterns annexing empires without orders, you know. Precious silly, of course, but one must take it into account."
"Well, I might have been an escaped convict from Botany Bay, by the way Antony jawed me. And other people took their tone from him, naturally, except—— By the way, I dined at the Cinnamonds' one night."
"And was our bright particular star visible?"
"She was. So was a young cub of a civilian—just gone into stick-ups,I should imagine."
"Dangerous?"
"I think not. Merely having his mind and morals improved, if I am any judge."
"Ah, we know all about that, don't we, old boy? Not that any beggarly civilian is going to join this noble fellowship, is he? The more he keeps his distance the better we shall be pleased. And the lady of our mutual adoration——?"
"She barely spoke to me. At least"—with an effort—"she did ask whether I sent to request your help or whether you came of your own accord. Of course I told her it was that."
"And then?"
"She said it was just what she would have expected of you."
Charteris burst into a roar of laughter. "Oh, poor old beggar! and he ain't jealous, not a bit! Never mind, Hal; when you have pulled me out of a hole, I shall have to praise you up to her, and won't it go against the grain! Ray-ther—just a few! But has the fair lady lent an ear to slander? You don't think she can have heard anything about the Rani?" cautiously.
"What do you know about the Rani?" cried Gerrard furiously.
"Simply that James Antony thought fit to tell me it had struck him that it would be very convenient for the transaction of public business, and very much for the safety of Kharrak Singh, if you or I married the lady. You were the favourite, as in a way marked out by her husband's will. One of our Mr James's witticisms, of course, and in vile taste, as usual."
"His taste is his own affair; what I mind are his abominable practical jokes. Do you know that he said this same thing to the Colonel, but put it as though I had approved, or even proposed, the arrangement?"
"The Colonel is a little apt to jump to conclusions, when they involve the depravity of other people," suggested Charteris. "It's just possible that he misunderstood his brother."
"Then I wish to goodness they would adopt some means of communication that left no room for misunderstanding. There Antony sent for me, and reviled me as if I had been a criminal of the deepest dye; said that Granthistan would stink in the nostrils of all India if these marriages with native women continued, and threatened to send me back to Bengal unless I gave up all thoughts of it at once."
"Alas, poor Hal! And what did you do?"
"Told him that I had got pretty well accustomed by this time to be reprimanded for everything I did, but when it came to being jawed for things I had no thought of doing, and wouldn't do for all the wealth of Delhi, I was hanged if I would stand it. Then I handed in my resignation on the spot."
"And what did he do?"
"Begged my pardon, like a man and a gentleman and a Christian as he is, dear old fellow! Asked me as a favour to withdraw my resignation, and shook hands."
"Well, you have got on his soft side, and no mistake! But what had riled him? Who were your predecessors in iniquity?"
"Oh, you haven't heard. Remember Horry Arbuthnot, big dashing fellow in the Cavalry? He has been and gone and married the daughter of old Murid-ud-din of Bala."
"You don't say so! How on earth did he manage it?"
"Why, he was sent up to help Tika Singh in pacifying the hill tracts—or rather, to keep him from perpetrating a massacre and calling it pacification—and Murid-ud-din's widow and family had taken refuge there. I don't know how the trick was done, but I daresay Tika Singh had a finger in the pie. He had taken a fancy to Arbuthnot, and may have wished to get a hold over him—at any rate, the bold Horace made definite proposals. Then the thing came to Antony's ears—Tika Singh may have had a hand in that too—and the fat was in the fire. He sent up orders—to Tika Singh, mind you—to send Arbuthnot down under arrest forthwith, and so nip his matrimonial project in the bud. Now it so happened—the course of true love running smooth for once—that Antony's letter reached Tika Singh on the eve of a great festival, and of course he couldn't possibly open it. But he took a squint inside, or the messenger told him the drift of it, or something, and by some most regrettable leakage the contents got to Arbuthnot's ears. The fellow is like you, Bob; he don't let the grass grow under his feet. He married the lady that night by Mohammedan rites under the auspices of her mother, who was highly in favour of the match, and they set off post-haste for Gajnipur. Another remarkable coincidence—only the day before Tika Singh had given Arbuthnot a duplicate of his own signet, which would carry him anywhere in Bala. Antony's orders had been confidential, so that they got to Gajnipur and were married by the Padri there before the truth got out."
"I don't envy that Padri," said Charteris.
"Nor I. Antony would have declared himself Pope of Granthistan if that would have enabled him to invalidate the marriage, but the younger Begum is indubitably Mrs Arbuthnot, and means to remain so. So Antony has packed them both back to the hill tracts, with the intimation that Arbuthnot may consider himself permanently relegated to the society of his new relations and his kind friend Tika Singh."
"Which means utter and absolute ruin, of course. Well, I call it uncommon hard."
"I don't know. Suppose Antony had written, 'Return to your sorrowing chief, and all shall be forgiven,' and done the heavy father business when they turned up, and set both Mrs Antonys and Lady Cinnamond to call on the Begum Arbuthnot, what would it have been but an encouragement to other fellows to go and do likewise?"
"Will the fellow find it worth it, I wonder? Funny thing what a difference a woman can make in a man's life."
Gerrard assented with almost a groan. "She plays the very mischief sometimes. Bob, I can't help thinking that perhaps you were right when you suggested we had better agree to give up all thoughts of her, both of us."
The light-brown eyes, which gave a peculiar character to Charteris's red-tanned face, flamed suddenly. "I suggest such a thing?" he cried. "Hal, you are mad. What I said was that I would never, under any circumstances, enter into such an agreement. Give up if you like. I go on until I die or she marries me."
"Or me," said Gerrard, laughing mirthlessly.
Charteris struck his hand upon the table. "Are you trying to provoke me, Hal? I have stood a good deal from you, but there are limits. What's come over you?"
"Oh, forebodings—presentiments, that's all."
"You always were a superstitious sort of chap."
Charteris's passion had faded. "Had this sort of thing before?"
"Oh yes, often."
"And the presentiments always came true?"
"No-o, not always."
"I should think not!" shouted Charteris, with a mighty burst of laughter. "Never was anything like the presentiments I had before going into action the first time, and now I remember it, you were pretty much the same, but we both came out without a scratch. Cheer up, old boy. Who would think it was you that gave Sher Singh the lie to his face, and started calmly to march to certain death? Here, let me mix you a peg. I looks towards you, sir."
"I likewise bows," said Gerrard, with a perfunctory smile. "You don't think me altogether a coward, Bob? There is something evil about the atmosphere of this place. I felt it as I rode in at the gateway."
"I should recommend the estimable Moraes and a blue-pill," said Charteris, yawning. "Coward? nonsense! an overworked conscience sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought is more your number. And now, as I march at a commendably early hour in the morning——"
"I wish you were staying on with me, Bob."
"Oh no, you don't. Think of the evil atmosphere of the place getting hold of me too. Why, we should sit in corners and grind our teeth at one another. You forget the healthy rivalry between us. No, no, you will do bear-leader to the youngster, and keep Sher Singh and the Rani from scratching each other's eyes out, and I'll knock down some more robber castles in Darwan, and demand your help when I stir up a more vicious hornets' nest than ordinary. By the bye, when there was mortar and all kinds of mess about, I took the opportunity of bringing up a little more gold from the treasury—ten thousand rupees' worth or so, as nearly as I could guess—and building it into this wall here," he indicated the parapet of the terrace with his cheroot. "It is behind this bluish stone. You may be glad of it in an emergency."
"You think of everything, old boy. Sorry I haven't been a jollier companion to-night."
They parted the next morning, Charteris riding out to take up again the nomadic life and open-air work that he loved, while Gerrard remained to begin his irksome task of trying to induce the Regents, the Durbar, the army and the citizens to lay aside their differences and aim at the common good. The Rani's one idea was to safeguard her son's position by securing the loyalty of the army at all costs. The faintest sign of discontent among the troops threw her into a frenzy of terror, and brought orders for the instant granting of all demands and a distribution of rupees. As a natural result, the army speedily dominated the whole city, and kept the rest of the inhabitants in subjection, secure of the Rani's favour. The Durbar, composed largely of Partab Singh's old councillors, lifted up voices of protest and lamentation when there were no soldiers about, but maintained a discreet silence in their hearing. Which side Sher Singh took, Gerrard found it difficult to discover. He complained bitterly in private of the arrogance of the army, the supineness of the Durbar, and the unreasonable behaviour of his co-Regent, but he seemed not to be making any attempt to form a party of his own, that might work towards a healthier state of things. Gerrard himself was the butt for every one's ill-humour. The Rani and the troops alike execrated him when he declined to give his sanction to the distribution of a largess demanded without even a shadow of pretext, and Sher Singh and the Durbar sighed reproachfully over his inability to keep the army in its proper place.
The one spot of light in the gloom was the behaviour of little Kharrak Singh, who proclaimed and exercised his royal will in the matter of seeking the society of Jirad Sahib. That the Rani was intensely jealous of his influence Gerrard perceived by many indications, but she could not refuse to be guided by the directions left by her husband, and she was at any rate assured of the boy's safety while he was with him. Surrounded by a small army of guards, they would ride through the muttering streets out into the open country, and there cast off for a few delightful hours the restraints of state. But this happened very seldom, and Kharrak Singh was generally to be found on the Residency verandah, where Gerrard, immersed in business, had to answer his unceasing questions, instil such rudiments of useful information as he could, and generally endeavour to prepare the child for the great future before him. It was clear that the native tutors had no control whatever over their illustrious pupil, and every creature in and about the zenana was his submissive slave, so that Gerrard became seriously exercised as to the development of his character. At times he had visions of obtaining a European tutor for him—an absolutely revolutionary innovation for those days—but the impossibility of bringing the Durbar to see the wisdom of such a course, or of securing proper support for the unhappy man who might be appointed, deterred him. To remove the child from the city, into surroundings mentally more healthy, was of course impossible, and therefore Kharrak Singh continued to come each day to the Residency with his attendants, dismissing all but a favoured few with a regal wave of the hand at the foot of the steps, and climbing on the divan arranged for him, to sit there and talk under the pretence of looking at pictures. Gerrard had sent for his books from down-country by this time, and after long journeying on the heads of groaning coolies, and many vicissitudes by the way, they now graced his meagrely furnished rooms. In the daytime they were useful in teaching Kharrak Singh the bare beginnings of the English language, and in the long evenings they served to mitigate the loneliness of the house which had presented itself as an abode of bliss for two, but was sadly too large for one.