Part 56 (1/2)
Then aloud, with importance--
”Is it shady where you have placed it?”
He shook his head.
”What!” I cried angrily. ”You have put it in the sun?”
”No, my lord; it is under a great tree.”
”Why, I asked you if it was shady,” I cried; and then it occurred to me that, in spite of my studies at Brands...o...b.. and out here, my Hindustani was very imperfect, for the man smiled in a deprecatory way which seemed to mean that he hoped my lord would not be angry with him for not understanding his words.
”Take me out now,” I said.
Salaman clapped his hands softly, and the two men I knew by sight entered at once, followed by two more whom I had not previously seen.
These four, at a word from my attendant, advanced to stand two at the head, two at the foot of my couch.
”Tell them to be very careful how they lift me,” I said; ”and have some water ready in case I turn faint.”
For I had a painful recollection of the horrible sensation of sickness which attacked me sometimes when the doctor was moving me a little in dressing my wounded arm; and, eager as I was to go out in the open air, I could not help shrinking at the thought of being moved, so as the four men stooped I involuntarily set my teeth and shut my eyes, with a determination not to show the pain I should be in.
To my astonishment and delight, instead of taking hold of me, the four men at a word softly rolled over the sides of the rug upon which my couch was made, until it was pretty close to my side, when they seized the firm roll, lifted together, and I was borne out through the open side of the tent, so lightly and with such elasticity of arm and hand, that instead of being a pain it was a pleasure, and I opened my eyes at once.
I was very eager to see where I was, and what the country was like all round. In fact, I had a slight hope that I should be able to recognise some point or another, even if it were only one of the mountains.
But my hopes sank at once, for as we pa.s.sed from out of the shadow of the tent and into the beautiful morning suns.h.i.+ne I could see trees, and trees only, shutting me in on every side, the tents being pitched partly under a small banyan, or baobab tree, and standing in an irregular opening of about a couple of acres in extent, while the dense verdure rose like a wall all around.
I could not help sighing with disappointment; and, at a sign from Salaman, the bearers stopped while he held the cup he had taken from a stand to my lips.
”No, no,” I said; ”not now. Let them go on.”
He signed to the bearers, and they stepped off again all together, and the next moment almost they stopped in a delightful spot beneath the spreading boughs of a tree, where carpets were spread and pillows already so arranged that the men had only to lower down the rug they bore, and I was reclining where the soft wind blew, and flowers and fresh fruits were waiting ready to my hand.
In spite of my disappointment, there was a delightful feeling of satisfaction in resting down there on the soft cus.h.i.+ons, able to see the bright sky and drink in the fresh air which seemed a hundred times better than that which floated in through the side of the tent; and when Salaman bent over me anxiously with the cup of cool water in his hand, the smile I gave him quieted his dread lest I should faint.
The four men glided away into the shadow of the trees, but after a minute I saw them reappear in front and glide silently into a long, low tent, standing at a little distance from the one I had left, and beyond which I could see another.
But my eyes did not rest long on the tents, for there were the glistening leaves of the trees and the cl.u.s.tering flowers which hung in wreaths and tangles of vines from their spreading boughs, all giving me plenty of objects of attraction without counting the brightly plumaged birds, which flitted here and there at will; while just then a flock of brilliant little parrots flew into the largest tree, and began climbing and hanging about the twigs, as if for my special recreation.
I had seen such places scores of times, but they never attracted my attention so before, neither had I given much consideration to the brilliant scarlet pa.s.sion flowers that dotted the edge of the forest, or the beautiful soft lilac-pink cloud of blossoms, where a bougainvillea draped a low tree.
So lovely everything seemed that I felt my eyes grow moist and then half close in a dreamy ecstasy, so delicious was that silence, only broken by the cries of the birds.
I must have lain there for some time, drinking in strength from the soft air, now rapidly growing warmer, when I started out of my dreamy state, for I heard a familiar sound which set my heart beating, bringing me back as it did to my position--that of a prisoner of a war so horrible that I shuddered as I recalled all I had seen and heard.
The sound was coming closer fast, and hope rose like a bright gleam to chase away the clouds, as I thought it possible that the trampling I heard might be from the horses of friends; but as quickly came a sense of dread lest it might be a squadron of bloodthirsty sowars, and if so my minutes were numbered.
”What folly!” I said to myself, with a sigh; ”it is the rajah's escort.” And a few minutes later the advance rode in through an opening among the trees at the far end, bringing the blood rus.h.i.+ng to my heart as I recognised the long white dress of a native cavalry regiment, one that had joined the mutineers, and, as I fancied then, that which had been stationed at Rajgunge. Immediately after, as they drew off to right and left, the rajah himself rode in, turning his horse toward the tent, dismounting and throwing the rein to one of his escort, he was about to enter, but Salaman and the four bearers stepped up salaaming profoundly, and the chief turned in my direction, to stride across the opening, with the sun flas.h.i.+ng from the jewels and brilliant arms he wore.
By the time he reached my couch, the men, horse and foot, had withdrawn, so that we were alone as he bent down, offering his hand, but without any response from me, and the smile on his handsome face died out to give way to a frown.