The Sirdar's Oath Part 8

Yet a.s.suredly disappointment awaited, for Mushim Khan, having heard all that had been said, absolutely declined to join in the plot. He had given the _Sirkar_ a.s.surances of his friendship. The new Sahib who had come as representative of the _Sirkar_, had treated him straightforwardly and as a brother, and he refused to behave towards him treacherously and as a liar. Infidel or not, to act thus towards him would not be pleasing to Allah, nor could it be justified out of the teaching of His Prophet.

"As a brother?" repeated the crafty _mullah_, now about to throw his trump card. "And was not the Sirdar Allahyar Khan a brother of the Nawab?"

"Surely," answered Mushim Khan, looking slightly puzzled, for he saw no coherence in the question.

"And his end--peace to his soul?" went on the _mullah_. "And his end, what was it?"

"His end was that of a brave man if a mistaken one," replied the chief, in a deep voice, and frowning, for he disliked and resented the raking up of this matter. But Hadji Haroun nodded, looking as though awaiting further particulars.

"He died fighting the Feringhi, by whom he was shot--and is now in Paradise," supplemented Kuhandil Khan.

"But if he was not so shot?" pursued the _mullah_, a gleam of triumphant malice darting from his cruel eyes.

"Then he is alive?"

The words broke simultaneously from the chief and his brother. But the _mullah_ dropped his eyes to the ground, and for a moment kept silence.

Then he said,--

"Would that he were. Would that his end had been that of a soldier.

But it was not. Ya, Mahomed! What an end was his! Wah-wah! what an end!"

And the crooked, claw-like fingers clenched and unclenched upon empty air. Murad Afzul, who had been prepared for this psychological moment, now rose, and having salaamed, moved away, for it was not fitting that he should hear the terrible disclosure about to be made to the two brothers.

"The Sirdar Allahyar Khan was a havildar in one of the regiments serving under the Feringhi at the time of the great rising?" went on the _mullah_, in a kind of slow monotone.

"And by them he was shot, by reason of the part he took against them in the rising," said the chief. "And, after all, it was what he might expect, for many of the Feringhi were then slain."

"By them he was not shot, O Chief of the Gularzai whom the Feringhi have named Nawab," returned the _mullah_. "By them he was hanged."

"Hanged?" broke from both, in incredulous horror. "Now that cannot be.

The Feringhi would never put to so shameful a death a man of his descent."

"Yet he was hanged, O chiefs--hanged in such fashion as is not to be named--hanged with a portion of swine flesh tied to his body."

Both the listeners had half sprung to their feet, and all unconsciously had struck a crouching, wild-beast att.i.tude--and in truth their faces were in keeping. Their lips had gone back from their teeth and their eyes were glaring.

"Is this a lie, old man?" gasped Mushim Khan. "For if it is thou shalt die. Yes, thou shalt die the death of the boiling fat unless thou canst prove its truth, and this wert thou a hundred times a _mullah_ or even the grandson of the Prophet himself."

But the other did not quail.

"It is no lie. Ya, Mahomed! To such a death did they put a Sirdar of the Gularzai. Many were so put to death by the Feringhi, they declaring that such had slain their women and children, having first been lashed, and so also did Allahyar Khan die. But before he died there was one who stood by to whom he whispered his bequest of vengeance, and from that one at his own death came the knowledge to me. Read; here is proof."

He drew a soiled, faded parchment from beneath his clothing, and tendered it to the chief. It was traced in Pushtu characters, and set forth how the Sirdar Allahyar Khan, havildar in a regiment recruited from all the border tribes, having been accused--and falsely--of being concerned in the murders of women and children, was adjudged to be hanged as the speaker had described; but the name of the officer in command who had ordered this savage retribution was somewhat difficult to decipher. Watching the two brothers, their heads meeting over the scroll, their features perfectly convulsed with horror and fury, Hadji Haroun smiled evilly to himself, though his countenance wore rather a snarl than a smile.

"The name?" they growled, looking up. "The name, the name?"

"General Raynier Sahib," answered the _mullah_, fairly quivering with delight. "Say now, Chief of the Gularzai. Is the Sahib yonder at Mazaran still as thy brother?"

"What has _he_ to do with this?" thundered the chief.

"Ya, Allah! Observe, O Nawab. He who is now as the _Sirkar_ at Mazaran is named Raynier Sahib. He is the son of the man who thus slew the brother of the chief of the Gularzai. Say; is he still as thy brother?"

CHAPTER TEN.

THE SYYED'S TANGI.

"Are you superst.i.tious, Miss Clive?"

"Well, I don't know. Not more than other people, I suppose."

"That is tantamount to an answer in the affirmative," rejoined Raynier.

"Believer in 'luck.' Observances connected with the new moon--the finding of a horse-shoe. Things of that kind."

"Oh no, I'm not," she answered decidedly.

"What? You would really upset the salt, and omit to throw some over your shoulder--or walk under a ladder?"

"As to that, I'd make sure there was no one on it with a paint-pot first."

"That's better. And you're not afraid of ghosts, eh?"

"Well, I've never seen one," she answered, demurely mischievous. And then they both laughed.

It was near sundown--also near the camp. They were returning from an afternoon ride, and the rest of the party, Haslam and the Tarletons to wit, were some way on ahead. These two were alone together.

This they had frequently been, since accident had thus thrown them together, and in that brief period of time Raynier had fallen to wondering more and more what there was about Hilda Clive that already he had begun to think how he would miss her later on, and how on earth they could have been shut up together on board a ship all the time they had, and yet that he should hardly have taken any notice of her. Now in their daily intercourse she was so companionable and tactful--and withal feminine. She was really attractive too, he thought, not for the first time, as he looked at her and noticed how well she sat her horse. As an actual fact she really had improved in the point of appearance, and that vastly; for the healthy outdoor life in that high climate had added a colour to her face which gave it just that amount of softness in which it had seemed lacking before.

"If you are absolutely sure you are free from superst.i.tion," went on Raynier, "I'd like to show you something that's worth seeing."

"What is it?"

"There's a real thrill of curiosity in that question," he laughed.

"It's a _tangi_--and a haunted one."

"Oh, I must see it. Where is it, Mr Raynier?"

"Close here. But before you venture you had better think over the penalty. The belief is that whoever enters it meets his death in some shape or form before the end of the next moon."

"That's creepy, at any rate. But is the idea borne out by fact?"

"They say it is, without exception. You would not get any of the people here to set foot in it on any consideration whatever."

"Then none of them ever set foot in it?"

"I should rather think not."