Part 6 (1/2)

Words which have caused much shedding of blood and tears.

But Sobrai Begum found laughter in the storm they had provoked.

''Twas only Jehan and Noormahal squabbling over the old ring,' she t.i.ttered over the wall in answer to a query. 'In the end, she gave him the last of the pearls to pacify him. I would have used them to better purpose had I had the luck to have my hand on them!' And as she sullenly obeyed Aunt Khojee's call to help, she told herself that two or three even of the pearls would have brought her freedom; would have given her, as Uncle Lateef had expressed it, that some one to hold the string of her kite, without which aid independence was impossible. For Sobrai had no mind for the gutter.

So the pearls, if she had them----

She gave a little gasp; in folding up the state carpet, four milk-white beads rolled out from its worn strings.

She glanced round her hastily.

Khadjee was wiping the dimness of past tears from her spectacles, Khojee was replacing the cus.h.i.+ons, Noormahal was brooding over Sa'adut, who had fallen asleep with both his thumbs thrust into the ring, as they thrust the fingers of a corpse which might otherwise come back to disturb the living with what should be buried and forgotten.

There was no one to see. And no one to know; for Jehan would sell or p.a.w.n the remainder, none the wiser. Even if he suspected anything he would make no inquiries, since these sales were done in secret.

She had no pocket, and to tie her prize in the corner of her veil would attract attention. So she slipped the pearls into her mouth, and held her tongue even when Aunt Khojee scolded at her for not being quicker.

Such silence paid better than any retort, and it also gave her time to mature her plans. One thing was certain, she must make her push for freedom before there was any chance of discovery, for it was just possible Jehan might know the number of the pearls. The sooner the better, as far as she was concerned, since she had long made up her mind to accept Miss Leezie's offer--with a suitable fee--of educating her to that walk in life. She could not remain dowerless, unwed, within four walls all her life! And if one had to amuse oneself, was it not better to do it openly, in a recognised, almost respectable fas.h.i.+on, which was countenanced even by the _Huzoors_?

As she made her plans, Jehan on his way to his bachelor quarters in the worst bazaar in Nushapore was making his, and settling that he would certainly lead that pig of an infidel, Lucanaster, to think he would in the end yield the emerald, by letting him have the pearls cheap, under promise of silence.

This was imperative, partly for the sake of honour; mostly because Salig Ram, the usurer, might object to any one else getting them.

CHAPTER III

COBWEBS

The noonday sun lay shadowless in every nook of the narrow evil-smelling courtyard which formed a common exit to Jehan Aziz's bachelor quarters and three or four other houses whose fronts faced the most disreputable bazaar in Nushapore. One of these belonged to Dilaram, the dancer, and the remaining ones were tenanted by folk of similar tastes, such as Burkut Ali, the Delhi pensioner, whom Jack Raymond had styled the biggest brute in Asia; but he had a double reasoning for choosing the courtyard, in that it enabled him better to play his part of Buckingham to the Rightful Heir.

Despite its character, however, the courtyard was peace and propriety itself in the perpendicular glare of noon; peaceful and proper with a dreamy drugged peace, a satiated propriety that was in keeping with the heavy yellow suns.h.i.+ne.

And Dilaram herself matched the general drowsiness as she sate, m.u.f.fled in a creased shawl, yawning, blowsy, ill-kempt, upon a wooden balcony overlooking the courtyard. She matched the squalor of the scene also; a squalor which seemed to put the pleasure that has its marketable value out of possibility in such surroundings.

Jehan Aziz, who sate on a string bed below, looked a trifle less dilapidated than Dilaram, for his morning toilet had extended to the making of that white parting down the middle of his oiled hair, and a due shaving into line of his thin moustache. Not that these results were due to any energy on his part. They were the work of the barber, who was now occupied, nearer the door, in paring Burkut Ali's nails, while the Heir to Nothingness, in no hurry to proceed, chewed betel thoughtfully, and looked at a caged quail which he meant to fight against a rival's so soon as he could rouse himself sufficiently to dress; for he had got no further in the way of clothing than the wrinkled white calico trousers which, by reason of their tightness, have to be tenant's fixtures during the term of occupation.

'So Sobrai Begum hath flitted at last!' yawned Dilaram (who was within an aside of Jehan) with a sudden causeless access of indifference and malice. 'And Nawab Jehan Aziz, _Rukn-ud-dowla-Hafiz-ul-Mulk_, hath in consequence one less mouth to feed! Peace be with him!'

'Speak lower, fool, or the barber will hear, and the tale be spread over the town,' muttered Jehan savagely, scowling at the sarcasm of the t.i.tles.

A day and a night had pa.s.sed since Aunt Khojee, veiled to her finger-tips and fluttering like any pigeon, had fled through the bazaars to tell the head of her house that--not three hours after he had left it in wrath--Sobrai had disappeared. Jehan Aziz, after established custom, had kept the scandalous secret to himself and his immediate family, with the exception of Dilaram, to whom he had gone at once, as the most likely person to have an inkling of the girl's intentions. For the only way to deal with such cases is to get the truant back as speedily as possible, and ensure a virtuous silence in the future. The silence, as a rule, of the grave. So the chance of the barber having extra long ears was horrible.

Dilaram, however, glanced idly at the group by the door, which gave unreservedly on the gutters of a cramped alley, and yawned again. 'Not he! Burkut hath him gaping over signs and wonders that will be G.o.d's truth ere the whole of Nushapore be shaved! They are more to the barber's trade than a girl's flight; though that also goes far nowadays, what with all the talk about such things. And _this_ would go far indeed, if set agoing--with a head of lie, and sparks of truth in its tail, like the powder in an E'ed[3] squib.'

'The truth!' echoed Jehan, in swift suspicion; 'then thou dost know somewhat, after all?'

She yawned again, smiling. 'Not I! Had none but my sort danced, as in old days, in kings' houses, Dilaram would have known who else sought to flutter in her footsteps. But with new pleasures, Nawab-_sahib_, come new pains. She is not of us in the city; that is sure. But there are baggages with bleached hair and powdered faces outside it. Ask Miss Leezie! I heard her say she lacked apprentices.' Her lazy spitefulness was effective, and Jehan clenched his fine hands viciously. He did not particularly desire to get Sobrai back--except for punishment--provided scandal could be avoided. He was, indeed, well quit of a girl for whom no suitor could be found, and who was not to his own personal taste; but the suggestion of Dilaram's words stung horribly.

'G.o.d smite their souls to the nethermost h.e.l.l!' he muttered, making the dancer flick her fingers with a giggle.

'Lo! hearken to virtue! ”_Not a rag for the child and a coat for the cat!_” Men be no worse in cantonments than here in the city!