Caste Part 3

In writing the Raja of Karowlee for the decoits, Dewan Sewlal had not stated that the mission was for the purpose of bringing home in a bag the head of the Pindar Chief. As the wily Hindu had said to Sirdar Baptiste: "We will get them here before speaking of this dangerous errand. Once here, and Karowlee's hopes raised over getting territory, if they then go back without accomplishing the task, that rapacious old man will cast them into prison."

So when the Bagree leaders, closeted with Baptiste and the Dewan in a room of the latter's bungalow, learned what was expected of them they, to put it mildly, received a shock. They had thought that it was to be a decoity of treasure, perhaps of British treasure, and in their proficient hands such an affair did not run into much danger generally.

The jamadars drew to one side and discussed the matter; then Ajeet said: "Dewan Sahib, what is asked of us should have been in the written message to our Raja. We be decoits, that is true, it is our profession, but the mission that is spoken of is not thus. Hunsa has ridden with Amir Khan upon a foray into Hyderabad, and he knows that the Chief is always well guarded, and that to try for his head in the midst of his troops would be like the folly of children."

The Dewan's fat neck swelled with indignation; his big ox-like eyes bulged from their holding in anger:

"Phut-t-t!" he spat in derision. "Bagrees!" he sneered; "descendants of Rajputs--bah! Have you brought women with you that will lead this force? And danger!" he snarled--he turned on Sookdee: "You are Sookdee, son of Bhart, so it was signed."

"Yes, Dewan, it is true."

"_You_ are the son of your mother, not Bhart," the Dewan raved; "he was a brave man, but _you_ speak of danger--bah!"

The Dewan's teeth, stained red at the edges from the chewing of _pan_, showed in a sneering grin like a hyena's as he added: "Bah! Ye are but thieves who steal from those who are helpless."

Ajeet spoke: "Dewan Sahib, we be men as brave as Bhart--we are of the same caste, but there is a difference between such an one as he took the head of and a Pindari Chief. The Pindaris are the wild dogs of Hind, they are wolves, and is it easy to trap a wolf?"

But the Dewan had worked himself into a frenzy at their questioning of the possibilities; he waved his fat hands in a gesture of dismissal crying: "Go, go!"

As the jamadars stood hesitatingly, Sewlal swung to the Frenchman: "Sirdar Sahib, make the order that I cease payment of the thousand rupees a day to these rebels, cowards. Go!" and he looked at Ajeet; "talk it over amongst yourselves, and send to me one of your wives that will lead a company--lend your women your tulwars."

Ajeet's black eyes flashed anger, and his brows were drawn into a knot just above his thin, hawk-like nose; suppressed pa.s.sion at the Dewan's deadly insult was in the even, snarling tone of his voice:

"Dewan Sahib, harsh words are profitless--" his eyes, glittering, were fixed on the bulbous...o...b.. of the man of the quill--"and the talk of women in the affairs of men is not in keeping with caste. If you pa.s.s the order that we are not to have rations now that we are far from home, what are we to do? Think you that Raja Karowlee--"

"Do! do! if you serve not Sindhia what care I what you do. Go back to your honourable trade of thieving. And as to Raja Karowlee, a man who keeps a colony of cowards--what care I for him. Go, go!"

The jamadars with glowering eyes turned from the Dewan, even the harsh salaam they uttered in going sounded like a curse.

And when they had gone, Baptiste was startled by a gurgling laugh bubbling up from the Dewan's fat throat.

"Sirdar," he chuckled, "I've given that posing Rajput a poem to commit to memory. Ha-ha! They have two strong reasons now for going--their shame and lean stomachs."

"They won't go," Baptiste declared. "When a man is afraid of anything he can find a thousand reasons for not making the endeavour. If Sindhia will give me the troops I will make an end of Amir Khan."

"And make enemies of the Pindaris: that we do not want; we want them to fight with us, not against us. The great struggle is about to take place; Holkar and Bhonsla and Sindhia, perhaps even the King of Oudh, leagued together, the accursed English will be driven from India. But even now they are trying to win over Amir Khan and his hundred thousand hors.e.m.e.n by promises of territory and gold. With the Chief out of the way they would disband; he is a great leader, and they flock to his flag. You saw the Englishman, Captain Barlow?"

"Yes, Dewani. Good soldier, I should say."

"Well, Sirdar, we think that he waits here to undertake some mission to Amir Khan. You see, no office can be conducted without clerks, and sometimes clerks talk."

The Frenchman twisted nervously at his slim grey moustache. "I comprehend, Dewani," he said presently; "it is expedient that Amir Khan be eliminated."

"It would be a merciful thing," Sewlal added--"it would save bloodshed."

"Well, Dewani, I must depart now. It will be interesting to see what your Bagrees do, especially when they become hungry."

CHAPTER V

For two days the Bagrees sat nursing their wrath at the reproaches of Dewan Sewlal.

And the Dewan, in spite of his bold denunciation of the decoits, was uneasy. If they went back to Karowlee with a story of ill treatment, of broken promises, that hot-headed old Rajput would turn against Sindhia. And the present policy of the Mahratta Confederacy was to secure allies in the revolt against the British which was being secretly planned. The Dewan was also afraid of Nana Sahib. He saw in that young man a coming force. The Peshwa was actually the ruler of Mahrattaland; he had a commanding influence because he was the head of the Brahmins--the Brahmins were the real power--and his adopted son, his inborn subtle nature developed by his residence in England, now had great influence over him. The Dewan knew that; and if he failed to carry out this mission of removing the dangerous one from Nana Sahib's path it might cost him his place as Minister.

In his perplexity the Dewan asked Baptiste to formulate some excuse for getting Nana Sahib up to Chunda--some matter affecting the troops, so that he might casually get a sustaining suggestion from the wily Prince.

It so happened that when Nana Sahib swung up the gravelled drive to the Sirdar's bungalow on a golden chestnut Arab, Sewlal was there. But when, presently, Baptiste's _durwan_ came in to say that Jamadar Hunsa of the new troops was sending his salaams to the Dewan, the latter gasped. He would have told the Bagree to wait, but Nana Sahib, catching the name Hunsa, commanded:

"By all means, my dear Baptiste, have that living embodiment of murder in. His face is a delight. You know"--and he smiled at the General--"that that frightfulness of expression is the very reason why the genial Kali has such a hold upon our people. You've seen her, Baptiste; four arms, one holding a platter to catch the blood that drips from a head she suspends above it by another arm; the third hand clasps a sword, and the fourth has the palm spread out as much as to say, 'That is what will happen to you.'"

The Frenchman shivered. He was snapping a finger and thumb in mental torture.

But Nana Sahib chuckled: "Her tongue protrudes thirsting for more blood--"

But the Sirdar protested: "Prince--pardon, but--"

"My dear Baptiste, when the Hunsa comes in observe if these things are not all stamped by Brahm on his frontispiece; he fascinates me."

The Dewan, devout Brahmin, had been running his fingers along a string of lacquered beads that hung about his neck, muttering a prayer against this that was like sacrilege.

When the jamadar was shown into the room his face took on a look of uneasiness. It but added to the ferocity of the square scowling ma.s.sive head. His huge shoulders, stooped forward as he salaamed, suggested the half-crouch of a tiger--even the eyes, the mouth, induced thoughts of that jungle killer.

Nana Sahib, a sneer on his lips, turned to the Minister: "Play him, Dewani, as you love us. There is some rare deviltry afloat."

"Why have you come, Jamadar?" the Dewan asked.

Hunsa's pig eyes shifted from Sewlal's face to roam over the other two, and then returned a question in them.

"Tell him," Nana Sahib suggested, "that he has nothing to fear from us."

The jamadar was troubled by the English exchange, but the Dewan explained: "The Prince says you are to speak what is on your mind."

"It is this, Sahib Bahadur," Hunsa began, "there is a way that the head of Amir Khan might be obtained as a gift for Maharaja Sindhia. Then Raja Karowlee would be pleased for he would receive his commission and we would be given a reward."

"What is the way?" Sewlal queried.

"The Chief of the Pindaris, after the habit of Moslems, is one whose heart softens toward a woman who is beautiful and is pleasing to his eye."

"Ancient history," Nana Sahib commented in English, "and not confined to Musselmen."

"Speak on," the Dewan commanded curtly.

"When I rode with Amir Khan," Hunsa resumed, "in loot there fell to the Chief's share a dancing girl, and Amir Khan, perhaps out of respect to his two wives, would visit her at night quietly in the tent that was given her as a place of residing."

"Amir Khan seems to be less a Pindari and more a human than I thought him," Nana Sahib commented drily.

"The world is a very small place, Prince," Baptiste added.