Caste Part 26

At a wave of Ka.s.sim's hand upward the bag of ashes was clapped over the decoit's head, and he was pounded on the back to make him breathe in the deadly dust. Then the bag was taken off, and gasping, reeling, he was commanded to speak the truth. Once Ka.s.sim said: "Dog, this is but gentle means; torches will be bound to thy fingers and lighted. The last thing that will remain to thee will be thy tongue, for we have need of that to utter the truth."

Three times the nosebag was applied to Hunsa, like the black cap over the head of a condemned murderer, and the last time, rolling on the floor in agony, his lungs on fire, his throat choked, his eyes searing like hot coals, he gasped that he would confess if his life were spared.

"Dog!" Ka.s.sim snarled, "thy life is forfeit, but the torture will cease; it is reward enough--speak!"

But the Bagree had the obstinate courage of a bulldog; the nerves of his giant physical structure were scarce more vibrant than those of a bull; as to the torture it was but a question of a slower death. But his life was something to bargain for. Half dead from the choking of his lungs, with an animal cunning he thought of this; it was the one dominant idea in his numbed brain. As he lay, his mighty chest pumping its short staccato gasps, Commander Ka.s.sim said: "Bring the dog of an infidel water that he may tell the truth."

When water had been poured down the Bagree's throat, he rolled his bloodshot eyes beseechingly toward the Commander, and in a voice scarce beyond a hoa.r.s.e whisper, said: "If you do not kill me, Prince, I will tell what I know."

"Tell it, dog, then die in peace," Ka.s.sim snarled.

But Hunsa shook his gorilla head, and answered, "Bhowanee help me, I will not tell. If I die I die with my spirit cast at thy shrine."

Ka.s.sim stamped his foot in rage; and a jamadar roared: "Tie the torches to the infidel's fingers; we will have the truth."

Half-a-dozen Pindaris darted forward, and poised in waiting for the command to bind to the fingers of the Bagree oil-soaked torches; but Ka.s.sim moved them back, and stood, his brow wrinkled in pondering, his black eyes sullenly fixed on the face of the Bagree. Then he said: "What this dog knows is of more value to our whole people, considering the message that has been brought, than his worthless life that is but the life of a swine."

He took a turn pacing the marble floor, and with his eyes called a jamadar to one side. "These thugs, when they cast themselves in the protection of Kali, die like fanatics, and this one is but an animal.

Torture will not bring the truth. Mark you, Jamadar, I will make the compact with him. Do not lead an objection, but trust me."

"But the dead Chief, Commander--?"

"Yes, because of him; he loved his people. And the knowledge that yon dog has he would not have sacrificed."

"But is Amir Khan to be unavenged?" the jamadar queried.

"Allah will punish yonder infidel for the killing of one of the true faith. Go and summon the officers from below and we will decide upon this."

Soon a dozen officers were in the room, and the sowars were sent away.

Then Ka.s.sim explained the situation saying: "A confession brought forth by torture is often but a lie, the concoction of a mind crazed with pain. If this dog, who has more courage than feeling, sees the chance of his life he will tell us the truth."

But they expostulated; saying that if they let him go free it would be a blot upon their name.

"The necessity is great," Ka.s.sim declared, "and this I am convinced is the only way. We may leave his punishment to Allah, for Allah is great. He will not let live one so vile."

Finally the others agreed with Ka.s.sim who said that he would take the full onus upon himself for not slaying the murderer, that if there were blame let it be upon his head. Then he spoke to Hunsa: "This has been decided upon, dog, that if thou confess, reveal to us information that is of value to our people, the torture shall cease, and no man's head in the whole Pindari camp shall be raised against thee either to wound or take thy life."

"But the gaol, Hazari Sahib?"

"No, dog, if thou but tell the truth in full, that we may profit, to-morrow thou may go free, and if any man in the camp wounds thee his life will pay for it. Till noon thou may have for the going; even food for thy start on the way back to the land of thy accursed tribe. By the Beard of the Prophet no man of all the Pindari force shall wound thee. Now speak quick, for I have given a pledge."

There were murmurs amongst the jamadars at Ka.s.sim's terms, for their hearts were full of hate for the creature who had slain their loved chief. But Ka.s.sim was a man famous for his intelligence. In all the councils Amir Khan had been swayed by the Hazari's judgment. It was an accursed price to pay, they felt, but the Chief was dead; to kill his slayer perhaps was not as great a thing as to have Hunsa's confession written and attested to. All that vast horde of fierce riding Pindaris and Bundoolas had been gathered by Amir Khan with the object of being a power in the war that was brewing--the war in which the Mahrattas were striving for ascendency, and the British ma.s.sing to crush the Mahratta horde. It had been Amir Khan's policy to strike with the winning force; perhaps his big body of hard-riding _sowars_ being the very power that would throw the odds to one or other of the contenders.

Their reward would be loot, unlimited loot, so dear to the heart of the Pindari, and an a.s.signment of territory. To know, beyond doubt, who had instigated the murder of the Chief was precious knowledge. It might be, as the Gulab had said, Sindhia's Dewan, but there was the English officer there at that time; and the message of friendship may have been a message of deceit and the true object the slaying of Amir Khan who was looked upon as a great leader.

Hunsa had lain watching furtively the effect of the Commander's words upon the others; now he said, "I will tell the truth, Hazari, for thou hast given a promise in the name of Allah that I am free of death at the hands of thy people."

"Wait, dog of an infidel!" Ka.s.sim commanded: "quick, call the _Mullah_ to write the confession, for this is a sin to be washed out in much blood, and the proof must be at hand so the guilty will have no plea for mercy. Also it is a matter of secrecy; we here being officers will have it on our honour, and the _Mullah_, because of his priesthood, will not speak of it: also he will bear witness of its sanct.i.ty."

Soon a Pindari announced, "Commander Sahib, here is the holy one," and at a word from Ka.s.sim the priest unrolled his sheets of yellow paper, and sitting cross-legged upon a cushion with a salaam to the dead Chief, dipped his quill in a little ink-horn and held it poised.

Then Hunsa, his eyes all the time furtively watching the scowling faces about him; fear and distrust in his heart over the gift of his life, but impelled by his knowledge that it was his only chance, narrated the story of Nana Sahib and the Dewan's scheme to rid the Mahrattas of the leader they feared, Amir Khan; told that they knew that the British were sending overtures for an alliance, but that fearing to kill the messenger--unless it could be done so secretly it would never be discovered--they had determined to remove the Chief. When he spoke of the other Bagrees, Ka.s.sim realised that in the excitement of fixing the murder upon one there they had forgotten his troop a.s.sociates, and a hurried order was pa.s.sed for their capture.

Of course it was too late; the others, at the first alarm, had slipped away.

When the confession was finished Ka.s.sim commanded the _Mullah_ to rub his cube of India ink over the thumb of the decoit and the mark was imprinted on the paper. Then he was taken to one of the cave cells cut out of the solid rock beneath the palace, and imprisoned for the night.

"Come, Jamadars," Ka.s.sim said--and his voice that had been so coa.r.s.e and rough now broke, and sobs floated the words scarce articulate--"and reverently let us lay Amir Khan upon his bed. Then, though there be no call of the _muezzin_, we will kneel here; even without our prayer carpets, and pray to Allah for the repose of the soul of a true Musselman and a great warrior. May his rest be one of peace!"

He pa.s.sed his hand lovingly over the face of the Chief and down his beard, and his strong fearless eyes were wet.

Then Amir Khan was lifted by the Jamadars and carried to a bed in the room that adjoined the _surya mahal_.

When they had risen from their silent prayer, Ka.s.sim said: "Go ye to your tents. I will remain here with the guard who watch."

CHAPTER XXIV

Captain Barlow and Bootea had gone from the scene of the murder through the long dim-lighted hall, its walls broken here and there by niches of mystery, some of them closed by marble fretwork screens that might have been doors, and down the marble stairway, in silence. Barlow had slipped a hand under her arm in the way of both a physical and mental sustaining; his fingers tapped her arm in affectionate approbation.

Once he muttered to himself in English, "Splendid girl!" and not comprehending, the Gulab turned her star-eyes upward to his face.

At the gate the soldier who had accompanied them spoke to the guard, and the latter, standing on a step bellowed: "Ho, ye Pindaris, here goes forth the Afghan in innocence of the foul crime! Above they have the slayer, who was Hunsa the thug; and, Praise be to Allah! they will apply the torture. Let him pa.s.s in peace, all ye. And take care that no one molest the beautiful Gulab. The peace of Allah upon the soul of the great Amir Khan!"

A rippling thunder of deep voices vibrated the thronged street, crying, "Allah Akbar! the peace of G.o.d be upon the soul of the dead Chief!"

A lane was opened up to them by the grim, wild-eyed, bandit-looking hors.e.m.e.n, _tulwar_ over shoulder and knives in belt, who called: "Back ye! the favoured of the Commander pa.s.ses. Back, make way! 'tis an order."

The faces of the soldiers that had been wreathed in revenge and blood-l.u.s.t when Barlow had been brought, were now friendly, and there were cries of "Salaam, brother! salaam, Flower of the Desert!" for it had been spread that the Gulab had discovered the murderer, had denounced him.

"Brave little Gulab!" Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head to look into her eyes, for he felt the arm trembling against his hand.

She did not answer, and he knew that she was sobbing.

When they were past the turbulent crowd he said, "Bootea, your people will all have fled or been captured."

"Yes, Sahib," she gasped.

"Perhaps even your maid servant will have been taken."

"No, Sahib, they would not take her; her home is here."

By her side he travelled to where the now deserted tents of the decoits stood silent and dark, like little paG.o.das of sullen crime. A light flickered in one tent, and silhouetted against its canvas side they could see the form of a woman crouched with her head in her hands.

"The maid is there," Barlow said: "but it is not enough. I will bring my blankets and sleep here at the door of your tent."

"No, Sahib, it is not needed," the girl protested.

"Yes, Bootea, I will come." Then with a little laugh he added; "The G.o.ds have ordained that we take turns at protecting each other. It is now my turn; I will come soon."