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"But that would bring it right here--right in the very heart----"
interrupted Horace Alexander.
"That wouldn't matter, provided _n.o.body knew_," came the quick reply.
"And n.o.body need know--except, of course, the railway bosses. Just look at it on the map. Points changed at Barawal Junction--then straight away, past us, to the northern branch, and so back a bit--only a bit--to the main line again. It wouldn't delay them half an hour, if that----"
Horace Alexander's finger traced out the line on the map.
"But the direct line is guarded," he began.
"Inadequately," persisted John Carruthers, "at least, to my mind. Now, by taking this new loop you are safe. It only needs a telegram--for the trains haven't begun yet to run at night, and it will be 'line clear'
all through. The usual pilot engine, of course--so no one need know."
Horace Alexander nodded. "No! poor devils!" he a.s.sented, a bit irrelevantly, "and dozens of them would have rejoiced to do '_durshan_.'"
The child in the corner of the room looked up at the familiar word and listened.
But the men were too much immersed to notice him.
"Well, it may be wise!" said Horace Alexander at last. "I don't agree with you, Carruthers, of course. The whole thing's a mare's nest. But, as you say, it won't disarrange anything. The Royal train will be up to time for early tea at Sonabad, and there all is safe: so if you'll drive me down to the telegraph office, I'll send the cipher myself."
"H'm," said John Carruthers thoughtfully, "I wouldn't cipher. Don't trust 'em a bit. The clerks in my office know 'em, I'm sure. Try French--it's safer."
Horace Alexander laughed a superior laugh.
"Mine don't! not the _real_ confidential one. Why! I don't suppose you do."
"That's a different matter," replied the police officer drily.
"However! it's for you to decide."
"Yes," said the District Officer firmly. "Well! goodnight, Rex! I shan't be back, child, till breakfast to-morrow."
"Where are you going, Daddy?" asked the boy.
"I'm going to do _durshan_," replied his father carelessly.
The child rose and came towards the table with shining eyes, the medal in his hand.
"Daddy!" he said, "I should like to do '_durshan_' too. Mayn't I?"
His father shook his head and smiled. "Impossible, Rex! You can't ride forty miles over the desert along a railway as I shall, can you? You wouldn't like to do what Daddy's got to do to-night, I can tell you, young man! Wait a while! Your turn'll come." He was busy locking the confidential box.
"But I meant _here_, Daddy," persisted the child.
"Here?" echoed his father carelessly, "Oh! here! Yes! You and old Bisvas can amuse yourselves with doing _durshan_ as much as you like.
Now good-night--and--and be sure to say your prayers, Rex." He stooped down to kiss the child, and as he did so, "_Rex Imp_" in red with the _et_ in black, caught his eye. "Rex, Imp," he muttered, "not a bad name for you, though you're a good little chap on the whole."
And he went off, feeling virtuous. Whatever his own beliefs, or rather lack of belief, might be, no one could say that he was forcing it prematurely on the weaker brother. Perhaps, however, the thought that his little son's lips--which had never to his knowledge been soiled by a lie--had begged dear G.o.d to take care of his Daddy, was unconsciously a help to the man during the anxious night. For it was anxious. To be responsible meant much to both those men, and this sudden change of plan--though it certainly removed risk--threw a still heavier burden of care on the shoulders of those two who had suggested it.
Therefore, when, just as the primrose dawn of another day had begun to dissipate the shadows of the night, the Royal train, safe and sound, steamed into the station at Sonabad, Horace Alexander and John Carruthers looked at each other as they stood on the platform and positively laughed.
"That nightmare's over," said the latter.
"I always said it was a mare's nest," replied the former.
"Well! we needn't quarrel about it now. I've handed over charge to Evesham, and you to Coleridge, and that's all. And I shall be glad to have a cup of tea. I've been too busy to eat for the last few days."
Half-an-hour afterwards they were in Horace Alexander's motor, going full speed along the Grand Trunk road.
"We shall be back by breakfast time," said John Carruthers, whose thoughts ran upon food.
But Horace, as he steered his way past the long lines of lumbering wains laden with corn, which still, in India, cling to the roads, despite railways, was jubilant over his district.
"I told you it was all right," he said finally, "but you and your sort, Carruthers, can't see that we are in a new age. We are out of the past----"
"That doesn't look like it," interrupted John Carruthers, pointing to a group in the verandah; for at that moment the car swept easily into the gateway of Horace Alexander's house. The latter frowned, for Rex's army was awaiting them, drawn up to stiff military salute, while in front of them, his small broad face full of smiles, was Rex himself holding a box in his hand.
"We got it, Daddy!" he shouted. "We got it all 'wight, and the men 'wan away, and Baba-jee emptied it, because he was the older-est, and it's all quite 'wight."
"Good G.o.d," cried John Carruthers, leaping out of the car, his eyes almost out of his head. "It's an infernal machine. I--I--I--'ve seen--'em--before--I--I----"
Horace Alexander turned pale as ashes. "Put it down, Rex.
Gently--gently--but--but----"
Old Bisvas salaamed down to the ground. "The Presence need not fear.
The child did not touch it, of course, till the poisonous thing had been emptied of its venom."
"But how----" began Horace Alexander helplessly.
John Carruthers, however, had his wits about him, and said in a low voice, "Look here, sir! This had better be kept dark; for the present, anyhow."
Old Iman, who understood a little English, nodded approvingly.
"Without doubt it is a concealed word," he said suavely. "And so I told Bisvas. Therefore none know of it save those here present.
So we had to do often in Mutiny time when news meant much; and _Gineral-Jullunder-Jullunder-sahib-bahadur_ would say----"
The police officer cut the old man's reminiscence short. "You have done well, _risildar-jee_," he said curtly, but the praise brought an unwonted flush to the withered cheek. "We'd better hear the story _in camera_, sir."
So the five old warriors filed into the office room, the doors were shut, and Rex sate on his father's knee, while John Carruthers carefully examined the infernal machine which had been laid on the table.
"Paris," he said laconically, "one of the latest sort. What did I tell you, sir--anarchy isn't a thing of districts."
"Go on, Bisvas!" replied Horace Alexander evasively.
"As I was saying, Huzoor, when the Huzoor left to do _durshan_ last night, _Jullunder Baba_ came to me and said, 'Bisvas! get ready to go and do _durshan_ likewise; my father said I might----'"
"And you did, daddy, didn't you?" broke in the little lad's voice confidently. His father hesitated, then remembering his uncomprehending words, nodded and held the child closer.
"So I, knowing that the word of _Jullunder Baba_ is even as the word of a King, unbreakable, said, 'But whither, my lord?' And he said, 'That will I show thee! Do thou as thou art bid, slave!' Now the night, as the Huzoor knows, was dark, and I grow old. So I bethought me of help, lest evil should befall. Therefore I said, 'Lo! it is not meet to go without the Army.' So these came willingly. For, see you, Protector of the Poor, we are all old, and the _durshan_ is even as the sight of a G.o.d--it heals sin. Therefore, in the darkness we set off, and I wrapped the _chota sahib_ in blankets and took the _trick_ lamp and a _ternus_ of hot milk also----"