Part 7 (2/2)

The headman and his men, with howls of dismay, rushed back to stop the conflagration. And just then the jewel merchant arrived in his cart.

The curtains of the canopy were thrown back and the fat Hindu sat blinking his owl eyes in consternation. At sight of Ajeet he descended, salaamed, and asked:

”Has there been a decoity in the village--is it war and bloodshed?”

Ajeet a.s.sumed the haughty condescending manner of a Rajput prince, and explained, with a fair scope of imagination that the _patil_ was a man of ungovernable temper who gave protection to thieves and outlaws, that the village itself was a nest for them. That two of his servants, having gone into the village to purchase food, had been set upon, beaten and robbed; that the conflagration had been caused by the fire from a gun that one of the debased villagers had poked through a hole in the roof to shoot his servants.

”As my name is Ragganath, it is a visitation upon these scoundrels,”

the merchant declared.

”It is indeed, Sethjee.”

Ajeet had diplomatically used the ”Sethjee,” which was a friendly rendering of the name ”Seth,” meaning ”a merchant,” and the wily Hindu, not to be outdone in courtesy, promoted Ajeet.

”Such an outrage, Maharaja, on the part of these low-caste people in the presence of the sainted one, and the pilgrims upon such a sacred mission to Mother Gunga, has brought upon them the wrath of the G.o.ds.

May the village be destroyed; and the _patil_ when he dies come back to earth a snake, to crawl upon his belly.”

”The headman even refused to give the holy one the gift of silver--tendering instead threats,” Ajeet added.

The merchant spat his contempt: ”Wretches!” he declared; ”debased a.s.sociates of skinners of dead animals, and sc.r.a.pers of skulls; Bah!”

and he spat again. ”And to think but for the Presence having arrived here first I most a.s.suredly would have gone into the village, and perhaps have been slain for my--”

He stopped and rolled his eyes apprehensively. He had been on the point of mentioning his jewels, but, though he was amongst saints and kings, he suddenly remembered the danger.

”We would not have camped here,” Ajeet declared, ”had we not been a strong party, because this village has an evil reputation. You have been favoured by the G.o.ds in finding honest men in the way of protection, and, no doubt, it is because you are one who makes offerings to the deity.”

”And if the Maharaja will suffer the presence of a poor merchant, who is but a shopkeeper, I will rest here in his protection.”

Ajeet Singh graciously consented to this, and the merchant commanded his men to erect his small tent beneath the limbs of the deep green mango trees.

The decoits watched closely the transport of the merchant's effects from the cart to the tent. When a strong iron box, that was an evident weight for its two carriers, was borne first their eyes glistened.

Therein was the wealth of jewels the flying hors.e.m.e.n of the night had whispered to the yogi about.

CHAPTER VIII

When the merchant's tent had been erected, and he had gone to its shelter, the jamadars, sitting well beyond the reach of his ears, held a council of war. Ajeet was opposed to the killing of Ragganath and his men, but Hunsa pointed out that it was the only way: they were either decoits or they were men of toil, men of peace. Dead men were not given to carrying tales, and if no stir were made about the decoity until they were safely back in Karowlee they could enjoy the fruits Of their spoils, which would be, undoubtedly, great. By the use of the strangling cloth there would be no outcry, no din of battle; they of the village would think that the camp was one of sleep. Then when the bodies had been buried in a pit, the earth tramped down flat and solid, and cooking fires built over it to obliterate all traces of a grave, they would strike camp and go back the way they had come.

Ajeet was forced to admit that it was the one thorough way, but he persisted that they were decoits and not thugs.

At this Sookdee laughed: ”Jamadar,” he said, ”what matters to a dead man the manner of his killing? Indeed it is a merciful way. Such as Bhowanee herself decreed--in a second it is over. But with the spear, or the sword--ah! I have seen men writhe in agony and die ten times before it was an end.”

”But a caste is a caste,” Ajeet objected, ”and the manner of the caste.

We are decoits, and we only slay when there is no other way.”

<script>