The Path to Honour Part 34

"Sahib, it is I--Rukn-ud-din," yelled a lamentable voice from the door.

"Speak, that I may know where you are."

Gerrard had just breath enough left to shout "Here!" and sufficient presence of mind to wriggle as far as he could when he had done it.

The instant swish of a sword, delivered with such good will that it smashed on the stone floor where he had lain but a moment before, showed his wisdom, and he tried to roll out of the fray, but Charteris, who must have struck his head in falling, lay a dead weight across his legs. While he tried first to lift his friend, and then to drag himself from under him, a fierce battle was raging above and across their prostrate forms, and feet, bare or booted, trod upon or tripped over them. At length Charteris stirred and groaned, and Gerrard shook him desperately.

"Bob, get up! Get off me, anyhow!"

A hand seized his shoulder as he shouted, and he imagined a sword descending on his head, and thought his last hour had come. But the hand came down to meet his, and a voice cried, "Well done, sahib. Up!"

and helped by Rukn-ud-din, he was on his feet again, and set with his back to the wall. Stooping, he found Charteris struggling into a sitting position, and dragged him back also, then realised that the fight had suddenly slackened, and that the sound of panting breaths had replaced the clash of swords. Before he could ask himself what this meant, Rukn-ud-din's voice broke the stillness.

"Brother, is it done?"

"It is done, brother," replied the voice of Amrodh Chand from the other side of the place. "Partab Singh Rajah and his son and the mother of his son are avenged."

A wild howl rent the air, as the servants of Sher Singh flung themselves furiously in the direction of the voice, but the Rajput had slipped round close to the wall, and Gerrard found him at his side, half-delirious with joy.

"Slay! slay! slay!" he chanted. "Wipe out the whole brood from the earth. Let all those who served the brother-slayer bear him company in death."

"Stay! Let them surrender if they will," cried Gerrard. "Let the servants of Sher Singh lay down their arms, and taste the mercy of the Government."

"That for the mercy of the Sarkar!" was the answer, as a vicious cut was made in Gerrard's direction from the floor, but Rukn-ud-din warded it off, and seizing the tulwar as it fell from the severed hand of the man who had wielded it, gave it to his commander. Then, advancing in line across the room, they drove the surviving servants of Sher Singh before them until, brought up by the opposite wall, they threw down their arms and cried for quarter. Then Rukn-ud-din went back along the pa.s.sage for the piece of burning match in a metal holder by means of which he and Amrodh Chandh had made their way to the fight, the sounds of which had stirred their blood, and the extinguished lamp was found and relighted. Sher Singh's body was crouched on the charpoy, in a listening att.i.tude, the matchlock with which he had shot at the lantern slipping from his hands. Four of his men were killed outright, besides the one outside who had tried to close the door, and whom Gerrard had shot through the opening, and the other two were badly wounded, while the victors bore abundant traces of the struggle. But there was no time for binding up their hurts just yet, for hurried footsteps and excited voices could be heard faintly overhead, though no words were distinguishable.

"The sentries are disturbed in their minds, and have turned out the guard," said Charteris. "And no wonder; that shot of Sher Singh's must have sounded uncommonly like a distant mine exploding. Well, we had better appear amongst them by way of the lions' cage and explain matters, I suppose. What d'ye think of taking the prisoners with us, and leaving everything else as it is, Hal?"

"I don't see that it matters. Wouldn't it be better to make them carry out Sher Singh's body?" said Gerrard.

"My dear fellow, it does matter, very much. I should say leave things exactly as they are. Otherwise we may get into trouble. Don't touch the Rajah, Rukn-ud-din!" he cried sharply. "Oh, I see; it's a case of 'Is not the gown washed white?'"

The two natives had unwound the discoloured fragments of the Rani's cloth which they wore wrapped round their waists, and were dipping them in Sher Singh's blood.

"Our vow, sahib!" said Amrodh Chand proudly. "Now our faces are white once more, for all has fallen out as it was spoken, and the innocent blood is avenged."

"All very well, but our faces are likely to be particularly black,"

muttered Charteris morosely. "Take the prisoners on. Look here, Hal,"

as they obeyed; "don't you perceive that we may find ourselves in a very nasty fix? If we had been able to produce Sher Singh alive to stand his trial, nothing would have been too good for us, but as it is, we have deprived the ruling powers of the opportunity for a tremendous object-lesson in justice and clemency. Our only chance is to make it perfectly clear what a fight we have had. They may say we ought to have taken a larger force, but they can't very well blame us for acting in self-defence. And if the bodies have obviously not been touched----"

"You mean that otherwise Speathley is quite capable of accusing us of looting? Bob, if he attempts anything of the kind, I have done with the Company for good and all. I have had about enough. I daresay the old Habshi will take me into his service."

"Vice General Desdichado dead of drink? I think I see you playing the part, old boy. No, stick to your colour--and your colours. We two are in the same box, and whatever happens we'll keep together. I was merely recommending caution. But here we are at the ma.s.sy portal.

What'll you take that the lions were killed for food in the siege? No, there they are. Sold again!"

Pride forbade Rukn-ud-din and Amrodh Chand to testify any alarm at the place where they found themselves, but they hustled their willing captives to the front of the cage with great celerity, hastened by the growls which proclaimed that the lions had been awakened by the light.

The beasts seemed sluggish and disinclined to move, and Gerrard called Charteris back with the lamp, that he might see better to perform the complicated movements which closed the door. Almost as he did so, he felt himself seized and flung violently sideways, Charteris following and almost falling against him, while a heavy body descended violently upon the very spot where they had been standing.

"What's up?" demanded Gerrard, between surprise and indignation.

"Oh, only the lion. Clear out of this, or we shall have the lioness on us next. You don't seem to twig, my boy. Sher Singh has had the chains lengthened!"

CHAPTER XXIV.

HONOUR AND HONOURS.

The course of events proved Charteris to be a good prophet.

Condemnation of the method adopted by Gerrard in attempting the arrest of Sher Singh was universal. It was not the Brigadier alone who pointed out, with much wealth of language, that the proper course would have been to report his suspicions as to the Rajah's hiding-place, and leave it to his superiors to detail a sufficient force--of which he himself might or might not have formed a part--to effect the capture, for the whole army were on the same side. The charitable said that Gerrard was vilely selfish in trying to secure all the honour and glory for himself alone, the malicious that even if there was no question of loot--which was hardly to be imagined--it was pretty clear that he had been on the look-out to avenge the slights put upon him by Sher Singh when he was acting-Resident at Agpur, and that he had achieved his object by murdering the unfortunate Rajah in a hole. It was in vain that Charteris pointed out to every one he could induce to listen to him that the idea of surprising the Rajah in his concealment had been his originally, and that he had taken a prominent part in the affair; the comment, as soon as his back was turned, was that the two natives concerned in it both belonged to Gerrard's force, which looked bad, and that the friendship which linked Charteris himself with Gerrard was of a character to rise superior to mere accuracy. This uncharitable view of the exploit penetrated to Ranjitgarh, and drew from Sir Edmund Antony a grieved and reproachful letter such as even Gerrard's veneration for his chief could not brook with meekness. He replied with so warm a remonstrance as made Charteris shrug his shoulders in despair, though he acknowledged, on the receipt of a hearty and ample apology, that his friend knew Sir Edmund better than he did.

Since Sher Singh was dead, and not to be restored to life, the Government was in reality freed from a very serious embarra.s.sment. One of his numerous youthful sons was chosen as the representative of the family, but not seated on the _gaddi_, since all Granthi inst.i.tutions were in a state of flux for the present, and it was highly probable that the t.i.tular Rajah of Agpur would in future lead a secluded and uneventful existence as a pensioner on the Company's bounty. The new bearer of the t.i.tle, with Sher Singh's wives and remaining children, was removed a safe distance into British territory, and the work of pacifying the state, by hunting down the remains of the insurgent army and of the revolted Granthi regiments, proceeded apace. In fact, it was so quickly done that new force was given to a body of opinion that was gradually gathering strength. Now that the Agpur campaign could be viewed as a successful whole, men began to contrast it with that other warfare which was engaging the energies of the Commander-in-Chief and the entire Bengal Army. Sher Singh's revolt had really been nipped in the bud, since he and his army had been strictly confined within the limits, first of his state and then of his capital, from the moment of the outbreak. Had he been allowed to sweep unchecked across his borders, and uniting with Abd-ur-Rashid Khan of Ethiopia, stir up the western half of Granthistan against the Durbar and the British, as the discontented Granthi Sirdars and soldiers of fortune had raised the eastern portion, how would it have been possible to cope with the situation? That it had not arisen was due to the insight and initiative of one man, Lieutenant Robert Charteris of the Bengal Fusiliers, who had had the skill to plan, and the courage to execute, the necessary measures, in independence, even in disregard, of the orders sent him.

Lieutenant Robert Charteris became a hero, for public opinion, once reversed in his favour, was not minded to do things by halves.

Moreover, the growing tide was swollen by the arrival of advices from England, showing that the lords of the East at the India House, and military circles generally, had conceived, on the strength of the reports of Charteris's doings up to the time he was superseded by Brigadier Speathley, the view of his exploits to which India itself was just coming round. The home authorities backed their opinion by tangible marks of favour. The greatest living soldier, mention from whose lips was in itself an honour, recommended Lieutenant Charteris to her Majesty for promotion, and her Majesty was pleased also to confer upon him a Commandership of the Bath, while the India Board decided to present him with a gold medal suitably inscribed. These distinctions were enumerated with due solemnity in a General Order of the Government of India, which contained also a pa.s.sing reference to "the praiseworthy co-operation afforded by the troops of H.H. the Nuwaub of Hubsheeabad, accompanied by Lieutenant Henry Gerrard, Engineers." That was all.

The General Order and the news it enshrined were received with much more equanimity by Gerrard than by his fortunate friend. Charteris could not contain himself, and Gerrard's calmness only increased his indignation.

"It's a sell, it's a do, it's an unmitigated chouse!" he proclaimed.

"And why don't you put it down to me, Hal? Any other fellow would have done that long ago."

"Because I saw your reports, old boy, and I know that ain't the reason.

It's only what I had to expect."

"But the disgusting unfairness of it--in our circ.u.mstances especially!"

lamented Charteris. "I can't get over that."

"My dear fellow, you know that the person of whom we are both thinking would no more be influenced by a gold medal or a C.B. than by a diamond necklace. No, hang it! the plan was yours, and the execution was yours. I backed you up, you say? Well, then, put on my tombstone, 'He was a good second,' and I ask no more."

But Charteris could not bring himself to take this philosophic view of the case, and went about abusing the authorities and cursing the injustice of fate, until he drew down upon himself a rebuke from James Antony.

"Since you can neither refuse your honours nor share them, my good fellow, you may as well wear them gracefully," he said. "As it is, you are doing Gerrard no good. He was unlucky in his first post, which has told against him, but he is a capable man, and bound to come to the front eventually, provided his friends don't spoil his chances."

The shrewd common-sense of the advice silenced Charteris's murmurs, and he faced with less outward rebelliousness the prospect of a week or two at Ranjitgarh. This was a mere interlude before plunging again into the main current of battle. The Governor-General was coming to the Granthi capital to take counsel with the Commander-in-Chief as to the further course of the war, which had not hitherto been conducted with conspicuous success, and the honours for the Agpur campaign were to be conferred. The cantonments and the Residency were full, and Brevet-Major Charteris, C.B., was glad to share his former restricted quarters with Gerrard. The Edmund Antonys were in occupation of the house again, James Antony and his wife retiring into two rooms of the main block, while Lady Cinnamond was once more at Government House.

With her had come down from the hills Marian Cowper, a sorrowful figure in the heavy weeds then worn by even the youngest widows, but taking up the burden of life again bravely. If she still shrank from Honour, it was only they and their mother who could perceive it. Sir Arthur Cinnamond arrived from the front with the Commander-in-Chief for a week about Christmas time, and it so happened that Gerrard came suddenly upon Honour riding with her father the day after his arrival. She wore a habit made like the uniform of Sir Arthur's famous Peninsular regiment--a fashion which probably owed its vogue to the semi-military costume adopted by the young Queen Victoria for reviews. Civilian ladies--whose husbands had no uniform to be copied--called it fast, or at least 'spirited,' (Gerrard had heard Mrs James Antony animadverting upon it only that morning,) but the severe lines of the coat suited Honour well in combination with the long trailing skirt and the broad hat with its drooping feather. As he rode up to the pair, and noted the serious face and the firm lines of the mouth, it struck Gerrard as curiously ironical that to a girl of this type should have fallen such a prolonged period of indecision as Honour had undergone between the claims of Charteris and himself. The thought was still in his mind when she glanced round and saw him, and the change in her face was like the waking into life of a statue. The lines softened, the eyes dropped, and a wave of crimson flooded forehead and cheeks. Sir Arthur shouted a hearty welcome to Gerrard, commanded him to dinner that evening, to meet his eldest son, who was on the Headquarters Staff, and turned judiciously to speak to some one else. Honour's eyes were on her horse's mane, Gerrard's were devouring her face, but for the moment both of them were tongue-tied. Honour recovered herself first, and spoke with a desperate effort.

"And--and how is Major Charteris?" she asked, and Gerrard's revived hope died on the spot. He could not understand afterwards why he did not fall from his horse. What he answered he never knew, but it seemed that he had laughed aloud, for Sir Arthur turned quickly and looked at him. A certain severity, disappointment, puzzled inquiry, were in the glance, but Gerrard had wrenched his horse round and was riding away, leaving the General still looking after him. He rode headlong back to the Residency, and with the impulse of a wounded creature seeking concealment, made straight for his own quarters in the inner courtyard.

On the verandah he paused abruptly, for Charteris was sitting there reading a tattered number of _Bell's Life_. He tried to speak, but no words would come, and Charteris looked up and saw him.

"Why, Hal!" he cried. Gerrard brushed past him hastily.

"I've seen her. It's you, Bob," he jerked out, and threw himself on his cot. Charteris had sprung from his chair, but turned back on the verandah step.

"Hal, old boy, I'm uncommon sorry. You do believe it, don't you?"

"I do. And you know you are the only man----"

Charteris's hand was on his shoulder a moment as the words failed him, and then his ringing footsteps went down into the courtyard, and Gerrard heard him shouting for his horse. The man who had all went out into the sunshine, the man who had nothing was left. To keep himself from tracing the sound of the horse's feet growing faint in the distance as the happy lover rode away, Gerrard forced himself to plan for the future. He must leave Ranjitgarh, and at once; he could not stay and watch the happiness of the pair, lest he should grow to hate them both. Bob would understand, Bob would not expect it. Some day he might be able to stand it, but now---- He had not realised how firmly he was building on Honour's parting words; he had not doubted that the blush just now was for him. But it was for Bob, and Bob was worthy of any woman's love, even of that of the woman of women. "Heaven bless them both!" groaned Gerrard, and rolled over with his face to the wall to make his plans. He must wait to wring Bob's hand when he returned triumphant, but after that he would go. Bob would take his place at the Cinnamonds' dinner-table, would sit next to Honour, would---- No, it did not bear thinking of; that way madness lay. To his own plans!

He would go back to his Habshiabadis, and move heaven and earth to get the help of the contingent accepted by the Commander-in-Chief. If not, and when the war was over--no, he could not face the solitude of his position at Habshiabad again. Had he not General Desdichado as a warning of the depths to which an isolated European, without hope and without ambition, could sink? There was a place for him elsewhere.

Coming events were casting their shadows before them, and there could be little doubt that the close of the war would see the annexation of Granthistan. Sir Edmund Antony, who had striven so zealously and with such a single eye against annexation, would not stay to see it; his brother James would be the man of the hour when the step was taken.

The Governor-General would be just, even delicate, in his treatment of the vanquished; Sir Edmund would not be shelved, but transferred to some other post where his tenderness for native susceptibilities would be an advantage instead of a drawback. Thither Gerrard would accompany him. Had not Sir Edmund said to him that morning, almost wistfully, "I should like to have you with me, Gerrard, when I am kicked out of Granthistan"? and he had answered eagerly that he could desire nothing better--then paused suddenly, remembering that there might be some one else to consult as to the ordering of his life.