Part 4 (2/2)

”I must go,” Nana Sahib declared; ”this Hunsa seems to have brains as well as ferocity.” He continued in English: ”If you do go through with this, Dewan, tell Hunsa if anything happens when they make the decoity--and if I'm any reader of what is in a man's heart, I think something will happen the Ajeet--tell Hunsa to bring the Gulab to me.

I like his idea, and we can't afford to let the girl get away. Don't forget to arrange for the Gulab at my _nautch_.”

When Nana Sahib had gone Baptiste diplomatically withdrew, saying in English to the Minister: ”Dewan Sahib, possibly this simple child of the jungle would feel embarra.s.sment in opening his heart fully before a sahib, so you will excuse me.”

This elimination of individuals gave the Dewan a fine opportunity; promises made without witnesses were sure to be of a richer texture; also surely the word of a Dewan was of higher value than the word of a decoit if, at a future time, their evidences clashed.

Then Hunsa was entrusted with a private matter that filled his ugly soul with delight. He a.s.sured Sewlal Sookdee, if he were promised, as he had been, full protection, would join in the enmes.h.i.+ng of Ajeet Singh.

Sewlal pledged his word to the jamadar that no matter if an outcry were raised over a decoity they would be protected--the matter would be hushed up.

Hunsa knew that this was no new thing; he had been engaged in many a decoity where men of authority had a share of the loot, and had effectually side-tracked investigation. In fact decoits always lived in the protection of some petty raja; they were an adjunct to the state, a source of revenue.

The Dewan had intimated that Hunsa and his men were to wait until a messenger brought them word where and when to make the decoity. Also if he betrayed them, failed to keep his compact with them, it would cause him the loss of his ugly head.

The jamadar quite believed this; it would be an easy matter, surrounded as they were by Mahratta troops.

So then for the next few days Hunsa and Sookdee cautiously developed a spirit of desire for action amongst the decoits, and a feeling of resentment against Ajeet who was opposed to engaging in a punishable crime so far from their refuge.

The Dewan sent for Ajeet and explained to him, as if it were a very great honour, that Nana Sahib, having heard of Bootea's wonderful grace, had asked her to appear at a _nautch_ he was giving to the Sahibs and Hindu princes at his palace. No doubt Bootea would receive a handsome present for this, also it would incline the heart of the Prince to the Bagrees.

Ajeet was suspicious, but to refuse permission he knew would anger the Dewan; and he was in the Minister's hands. His position was none too secure; there was treachery in his own camp. He asked for a day to consult Bootea over the matter; in reality he wanted to consider it more fully before giving an answer.

Of course Hunsa knew about it, and he told Sookdee; and when the matter came up in camp they professed indignation at Ajeet's stupidity in not appreciating the honour; dancers were only too glad to appear before such people as the Prince and the Resident at a palace dance, they explained.

Of course the matter of Bootea's mission to the Pindari Chief had not been conveyed to Ajeet as yet; and Hunsa felt that this affair of the _nautch_ was a propitious thing--an inserting of the thin edge of the wedge.

Somewhat grudgingly Ajeet consented, for Bootea, strangely enough, was quite eager over it. As Nana Sahib had fancied the girl had taken an unexplainable liking for Captain Barlow. Of course that, the call, is rarely explainable on reasonable grounds--it is a matter of a higher dispensation; just two pairs of eyes settle the whole business; one look and the thing is done.

The Sahib would see her in a new light--in an appealing light. In her thoughts there was nothing of a serious intent; just that to look upon him, perhaps to see in his eyes a friendly pleasure, would be intoxication.

So Ajeet took her to the palace to dance, but, of course, he had to cool his heels without the _durbar_ chamber--smoke the hooka and chat with other natives while the one of desire was within.

The girl had an exquisite sense of the beauty of simplicity--both in dress and manner, and in her art; it was as if a lotus flower had been animated--given life. Her dancing was a floaty rhythm, an undulating drifting to the soft call of the _sitar_; and her voice, when she sang the _ghazal_, the love-song, was soft, holding the compelling power of subdued pa.s.sion--it thrilled Barlow with an emotion that, when she had finished, caused him to take himself to task. It was as if he had said, ”By Jove! fancy I've had a bit too much of that champagne--better look out.”

Nana Sahib and the Captain were sitting side by side, and the Gulab, when she had finished the song, had swept her sinuous lithe form back in a graceful curtsy in front of the two, and, as if by accident, a red rose had floated to the feet of Captain Barlow. Surely her soft, dark, languorous eyes had said: ”For thee.”

With a cynical smile Nana Sahib picked up the rose and presented it to Barlow saying: ”My dear Captain, you receive the golden apple--beauty will out.”

Barlow's fingers trembled with suppressed emotion as he took the flower and carefully slipped it into a b.u.t.tonhole.

Elizabeth, who sat next him, saw this by-play, and her voice was cold as she commented: ”Homage is a delightful thing, but it spoils children.”

Nana Sahib leaned across Barlow: ”My dear Miss Hodson, these dancers always play to the G.o.ds--it is their trade. But there is safety in caste--in _varna_, which is the old Brahmin name for caste, meaning colour. When the Aryans came down into Hind they were olive-skinned and the aborigines here were quite black, so, to draw the line, they created caste and called it _varna_, meaning that they of the light skin were of a higher order than the aborigines--which they were. A white skin is like a s.h.i.+rt-of-mail, it protects morally, socially, in India.”

”Ultimately, no doubt, Prince. And, of course, a dance-girl is one of the fourth caste, practically an outcast--an 'untouchable,'” Elizabeth commented.

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