Caste Part 16

"A fine distinction, sir," and Barlow laughed.

"Proceed," Hodson commanded.

"We were told by the Dewan to go to the camp of the Pindaris and bring back the head of Amir Khan."

"Lovely!" Barlow muttered softly; but Hodson started,--a slight rouge crept over his pale face and he said, "By Gad! this grows interesting, my dear Captain."

"Absolutely Oriental," Barlow added.

Then when their voices had stilled Ajeet continued: "But Hunsa had ridden with the Pindari Chief and he knew that he was well guarded, and that it would be impossible to bring his head in a basket, so we refused to go on this mission. The Dewan was angry and would not give us food or pay. Through Hunsa the Dewan sent word that we must obtain our living in the way of our profession, which is decoity."

"I wonder," Barlow queried.

But Hodson, nodding his head said: "Quite possible; and also quite probable that the dear avaricious Dewan would claim a share of the loot if it were of value, jewels especially." He addressed Ajeet, "I have nothing to do with this; I am not Sindhia."

"True, Sahib Bahadur, but a decoity was made upon a merchant on the road and he and his men were killed, but also two English _sowars_ were slain."

"By heavens!" The cool, trained, bloodless machine, that was a British Resident at a court of intrigue, was startled out of his composure; his eyes flashed to those of Barlow.

But the Captain, knowing all this beforehand, had an advantage, and he showed no sign of trepidation.

Then the thin drawn face of the Resident was flattened out by control, and he commanded the decoit to talk on.

"I tried to save the two sepoys, and one was a sergeant, but I was stricken down with a wound and it was in the way of treachery."

Ajeet laid a hand upon his wounded shoulder, saying, "When the two _sepoys_ rode suddenly out of the night into our camp, where there in the moonlight lay the bodies of the merchant and his men, the Bagrees were afraid lest the two should make report. They rushed upon the two riders, and it was then that I was wounded. I would have been killed but for this protection," and Ajeet rubbed affectionately the beautiful strong shirt-of-mail that enwrapped his torso.

"And observe, Sahib, the wound is from behind, which is a wound of treachery. As I rushed to the two and cried to them to be gone, a ball from a short gun in the hands of some Bagree smote me upon the shoulder, and this,--" he again touched the shirt-of-mail,--"and my shoulder-blade turned it from my heart. Even then Hunsa thought I was dead. And he was in league with the Dewan to obtain for Nana Sahib a girl of my household, who is called the Gulab because she is as beautiful as the moon."

At this statement Barlow knew why the man he had beaten with his pistol had tried to seize the Gulab. It was startling. The leg that had rested across a knee clamped noisily to the floor, and a smothered "d.a.m.n!" escaped from his lips. What a devilish complicated thing it was.

Ajeet resumed: "Hunsa rushed to where the Gulab was in hiding and helped the men who had been sent by Nana Sahib to steal her. Then he came back to our camp saying that many men had beaten him, and that he had been forced to flee."

At this vagary Barlow chuckled inwardly.

"What of the two soldiers?" Hodson asked; "why were they here in this land and at the camp of the Bagrees?"

"I know not, Sahib."

"Were the bodies robbed by your men--they would be--did they find papers that would indicate the two were messengers?" and the Resident's bloodless fingers that clasped a pen were trembling with the suppression of the awful interest he strove to hide, for he knew, as well as Barlow, what their mission was.

"Yes, Sahib, they were stripped and the bodies thrown in the pit with the others. Eight rupees were taken, but as to papers I know nothing."

"Where is the woman you call the Gulab?"

"She will be in the hands of Nana Sahib," Ajeet answered; "and because of that I have come to confess so your Honour will save my life from him for he will make accusation that I was Chief of those who killed the soldiers of the British; and that the Sahib will cause to have returned to me the Gulab."

The Resident took from a drawer a form, and his pen scratched irritably at blanks here and there. He tossed it over to Barlow saying, "I'm going to give this decoit this provisional pardon; perhaps it will nail him. What he has confessed is of value. You translate this to him while I think; I can't make mistakes--I must not."

Captain Barlow read to Ajeet the pardon, which was the form adopted by the British government to be issued to certain thugs and decoits who became spies, called Approvers, for the British.

"You, Ajeet Singh, are promised exemption from the punishment of death and transportation beyond seas for all past offences, and such reasonable indulgence as your services may seem to merit, and may be compatible with your safe custody on condition:--1st, that you make full confession of all the decoities in which you have been engaged; 2nd, that you mention truly the names of all your a.s.sociates in these crimes, and a.s.sist to the utmost of your power in their arrest and conviction. If you act contrary to these conditions--conceal any of the circ.u.mstances of the decoities in which you have been engaged--screen any of your friends--attempt to escape--or accuse any innocent person--you shall be considered to have forfeited thereby all claims to such exemption and indulgence."

When the Captain had finished interpreting this the Resident pa.s.sed it to the decoit, saying: "This will protect you from the British. You are now bound to the British; and I want you to bring me any papers that may have been found upon the two soldiers. Bring here this woman, the Gulab, if you can find her. Go now."

When Ajeet, with a deep salaam, had gone from the room Hodson threw himself back in his chair wearily and sighed. Then he said: "A woman!

the jamadar was lying--all that stuff about Nana Sahib. There's been some deviltry; they've used this woman to trap the messengers; that's India. It's the papers they were after; they must have known they were coming; and they've hidden the woman. We've got to lay hands upon her, Captain--she's the key-note."

CHAPTER XV

Barlow had waited until the decoit would have gone before showing the papers that were in his pocket because it was an advantage that the enemy should think them lost. He was checked now as he put a hand in his pocket to produce them by the entrance of Elizabeth, and he fancied there was a sneer on her thin lips.

"Father," she said, as she leaned against the desk, one hand on its teak-wood top, "I've been listening to the handsome leader of thieves; I couldn't help hearing him. I fancy that Captain Barlow could tell you just where this woman, the Gulab, who is as beautiful as the moon, is. I'm sure he could bring her here--if he _would_."

The Captain's fingers unclasped from the papers in his pocket, and now were beating a tattoo on his knee.

"Elizabeth!" the father gasped, "do you know what you are saying?" His cold grey eyes were wide with astonishment. "Did you hear all of Ajeet Singh's story?"

"Yes, all of it."

"It's your friend, Nana Sahib, whom you treat as if he were an Englishman and to be trusted, that knows where this woman is, Elizabeth."

A cynical laugh issued from the girl's lips that were so like her father's in their unsympathetic contour: "Yes, one may trust men, but a woman's eyes are given her to prevent disaster from this trust which is so natural to the deceivable s.e.x."

"Elizabeth! you do not know what you are saying--what the inference would be."

"Ask Captain Barlow if he doesn't know all about the Gulab's movements."

The Resident pushed irritably some papers on his desk, and turning in his chair, asked, "Can you explain this, Captain--what it is all about?"

There were ripples of low temperature chilling the base of Barlow's skull. "I can't explain it--it's beyond me," he answered doggedly.

The girl turned upon him with ferocity. "Don't lie, Captain Barlow; a British officer does not lie to his superior."

"Hush, Beth," the father pleaded.

"Don't you know, Captain Barlow," the girl demanded, "that this woman, the Gulab, is one who uses her beauty to betray men, even Sahibs?"

"No, I don't know that, Miss Hodson. I saw her dance at Nana Sahib's and I've heard Ajeet's statement. I don't know anything evil of the girl, and I don't believe it."

"A man's sense of honour where a woman is concerned--lie to protect her. I have no illusions about the Sahibs in India," she continued, in a tone that was devilish in its cynicism, "but I did think that a British officer would put his duty to his King above the shielding of a _nautch_ girl."

"Elizabeth!" Hodson rose and put a hand upon the girl's arm; "do you realise that you are doing a dreadful thing--that you are impeaching Captain Barlow's honour as a soldier?"