Gil the Gunner Part 76

It was hard work to refrain from stooping to pick up what I felt almost sure was a message of some kind, but I dared not for fear of being seen.

There were curtains over every door, and I never knew but one of the native servants might be behind it; and after what Salaman had said about the safety of his head if he talked, I felt sure that the reason why the rajah's servants were so watchful was that they feared danger to themselves if they were not careful of my safety.

However, there was the little packet waiting--just a little packet not much larger than a seidlitz-powder, tied up with gra.s.s; and, beginning to walk up and down the room, I contrived to give it a kick now and then, till at last I sent it right into the purdah which hung in front of my chamber.

This done, I went to the window, looked out, saw that the two bheesties were back watering the court again, the former sprinkling having nearly dried up; and then, turning, I walked right into my room, let the curtain fall back, to find, to my vexation, that the packet was still outside; but by kneeling down and pa.s.sing my hand under, I was able to secure it, though I trembled all the while for fear my hand should have been seen.

For fear of this, I thrust the packet into my breast, and lay down on my couch, listening. All was still, so I took out the packet quickly, noting that it was slightly heavy, but I attributed this to a stone put in with a note to make it easy for throwing in at the window.

"Oh!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as my trembling fingers undid the string, "if this is another of Dost's letters!"

But it was not, and there was no sc.r.a.p of writing inside the dirty piece of paper. Instead, there was another tiny packet, and something rolled in a sc.r.a.p of paper.

I opened this first, and found a piece of steel about an inch and a half long, and after staring at it for a few moments, I thrust it into my pocket, and began to open the tiny packet which evidently contained some kind of seed.

"Not meant for me," I said to myself, sadly, as I opened the stiff paper, and--

I lay there staring at the fine black seed, and ended by moistening a finger, and taking up a grain to apply to my tongue.

The result was unmistakable. I needed no teaching there, for I had had a long education in such matters.

It was gunpowder, and I laughed at myself for thinking that it was a kind of seed, though seed it really might be called--of destruction.

"Yes; it's meant for some one else," I thought, as I carefully refolded the black grains in their envelope, and took out the piece of steel again, to turn it over in my hands, and notice that one end was fairly sharp, while the other was broken, and showed the peculiar crystalline surface of a silvery grey peculiar to good steel.

"Why, it's the point of a bayonet," I said to myself; and then I sat thinking, regularly puzzled at the care taken to wrap up that bit of steel and the powder.

"What does it mean?" I said, or does it mean anything? "Some children playing at keeping shop, perhaps," I said; "and when they were tired, they threw the packet in at the first window they saw. Just the things soldiers' children would get hold of to play with."

"But there are no children here," I said to myself, as I began to grow more excited, and the more so I grew, the less able I was to make out that which later on appeared to be simplicity itself.

"The point of a bayonet in one, and some grains of powder in another," I said to myself. "Oh, it must be the result of some children at play; they cannot possibly be meant for me;" and in disgust, I tossed the powder out of the window, and directly after, flung out the piece of steel with the result that, almost simultaneously, I heard what sounded like a grunt, and the jingling of the metal on the marble paving.

I ran to the window, and looked out from behind the hanging which I held before me, suspecting that I had inadvertently hit one of the bheesties.

And so it proved, for I saw the man nearest to me stoop to pick up the piece of bayonet, and then nearly go down on his nose, for the water-skin shifted, and it was only by an effort that he recovered himself, and shook it back into its place on his loins.

Just then the other water-bearer came up to him, and said something in a low tone--I could not hear what, for he and his companion conversed almost in whispers, as if overawed by the sanct.i.ty of the place in which they stood. But it was all evident enough, as I could make out by their gestures: the second bheestie asked the first what was the matter, and this man told him that some one had taken aim with a piece of steel, which he pa.s.sed on, and struck him on the back. The second man examined the piece, pa.s.sed it back, and evidently said, "Some one is having a game with you," for he laughed, and they both looked up at the windows, as if to see who threw the piece.

Just then I saw a fierce-looking man come from the gateway, sword in hand; the two bheesties went on with their watering, and I heard him speaking angrily, and he gave force to his abuse by striking each man sharply with the flat of his sword. But the blows were harmless, for they fell on the water-skins, and, as soon as he had marched off, I saw the men look at each other and grin.

I drew back, and began to pace my room like a wild beast in a cage, for the idea had come strongly upon me that, after all, those packets were meant for me, and the more I told myself that it was folly, the stronger the conviction grew, and I found myself muttering, "Powder and bayonet-- powder and bayonet--what can it mean?"

"Declaration of war," I said to myself at last; but I gave that idea up, for war had been declared long enough ago. No. It could not mean that.

And yet it seemed as if it might be a symbolical message, such as these unseen people would send.

"A message--a message--a message," I muttered; and then the light came, or what I thought was the light, and I exclaimed joyfully, "Then it was meant for me!" Yes; a symbolical message, because whoever sent it was afraid to write lest it should fall into other hands.

I was so excited by my next thought that I threw myself face downward on my couch, and laid my head on my folded arms for fear my face should be seen. For I had just been interpreting the message to mean: bayonet-- powder--fighting going on near, when I felt that no one but Dost could have sent that message, and its full meaning must be: bayonet, infantry; powder, artillery; and help must be at hand.

I heard Salaman come softly into the room, but I did not stir, and after a minute he pa.s.sed out again, and I breathed more freely. I was afraid that he might read my thoughts, for I was in so great a state of excitement and exaltation that I imagined a score of impossible things, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I could contain myself sufficiently to look anything like calm, and keep my position on the bed.

For, after the first glance of light, the rest came quickly enough. I was right, I felt sure, about the troops coming, and the sender of the message must be Dost, who evidently would not trust himself to write again after the way in which his last letter had puzzled me. He it was, then, who had thrown the packet through the window, and consequently I felt that he must be somewhere about the palace, if he had not trusted his packet to some one else.

"No," I thought. "He would not do that. He must be near me in disguise. The old fakir is somewhere about;" and I went to the window to look round, for I could lie no longer.

But there was no sign of the old fakir in the courtyard, and my heart sank as I felt how impossible it would be for him to get there. The guards would never let him pa.s.s, and I was wondering more and more how he had managed to send me such hopeful news, when I suddenly caught sight of the men coming back heavily laden with their full skins to continue pouring cold water on the marble paving of the heated court, and I shrank away at once, so as to conceal my joy, for I knew now.

One of the bheesties must be Dost!

CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

I dared not go to the window now, for I knew I was right; and it was impossible for me to be aware of how much I might be watched, while a look might be sufficient, if exchanged between me and the bheestie, to draw suspicion to him, and cause his immediate death.

So I kept away, hoping that he would take the blow he had received, although accidentally given, as an answer to his communication.

But suppose the wrong man received the blow?

It did not matter, I thought. One told the other, and perhaps they were confederates.

That was enough. Help was at hand. I had but to wait; and it was evidently not some furtive kind of help--some attempt at an escape, but a bold attack to be made on the place, and the message was to put me on my guard.

I was in such a state of joyous excitement that I could hardly bear myself. I wanted to laugh aloud at Dost's cleverness. Only the other day playing the part of fakir, and completely deceiving me, when he stood reviling, and now so transformed that I might have pa.s.sed the humble water-carrier a hundred times without having the slightest suspicion as to his being genuine.

"He is not a fighting man," I thought, "but quite as brave in his way; for nothing could be more daring than for him to march into the enemy's camp with his life in his hand like this."

Then I began to wonder how long it would be before an attack was made upon the town, and what Ny Deen would do. It would be a surprise--of that I felt sure; for the rajah was completely satisfied of his safety-- at least, so he seemed, and ready to treat the British power as completely broken.

Then, feeling that I must be perfectly calm and self-contained, and being fully convinced that there might be an attack almost at any moment, I began to wonder whether I could find some place to hide, in case Ny Deen wanted to make me the sharer of his flight, for I had not the slightest doubt about the result of an engagement.

"Yes," I said; "I must be cool, and not seem bubbling over with delight." In fact, I felt just then so elated, partly by the news, partly by the returning health beginning to course through my veins, that I went straight to a mirror, to see if there was anything in my countenance likely to betray my state of mind, and, as soon as I reached it, I stood staring. Then I turned away, and went and sat down, thinking that mine was a very uncomfortable position; for, if any of our troops came rushing through the palace and saw me, looking in my present dress, exactly like some Hindu chief, my chances of escape would be very small.

"Why, they would bayonet me before I had time to explain; the fellows don't wait for explanations," I said dismally. And I walked at once into my sleeping-chamber, to see if the remains of my old uniform were by any chance left, though I was certain that they were not.

And then a feeling of anger rose against Ny Deen. "It is all his doing," I said. "He has been trying to make me look as much like a Hindu as possible. I wonder that he did not want me to stain my skin!"

"No need," I muttered, after a glance at the mirror. "I'm sunburnt enough to look like a Sikh." And a feeling of bitter resentment was growing against him now, stronger than I had felt before, knowing as I did that in spite of his kindness, and the friendly feeling he professed, he was moved by the strong motive of making me his most useful follower.

I had just arrived at this pitch, when Salaman came in quickly.

"My lord, his highness is here," he whispered, and then ran out I would have given anything not to have stood before him that day, but there was no help for it; and, forcing myself to look calm and unconcerned, I went into the princ.i.p.al room, just as the rajah entered by the farther doorway, very plainly dressed, and quite alone.

"Hah!" he exclaimed, with a friendly nod, "there is no need to ask. I can see. Better and better! So you shall have a change.--Well?"

He paused for me to speak, and I could not dissimulate.

"Oh, thank you," I said; "I do not want a change."