Part 26 (2/2)
Soon a Pindari announced, ”Commander Sahib, here is the holy one,” and at a word from Ka.s.sim the priest unrolled his sheets of yellow paper, and sitting cross-legged upon a cus.h.i.+on with a salaam to the dead Chief, dipped his quill in a little ink-horn and held it poised.
Then Hunsa, his eyes all the time furtively watching the scowling faces about him; fear and distrust in his heart over the gift of his life, but impelled by his knowledge that it was his only chance, narrated the story of Nana Sahib and the Dewan's scheme to rid the Mahrattas of the leader they feared, Amir Khan; told that they knew that the British were sending overtures for an alliance, but that fearing to kill the messenger--unless it could be done so secretly it would never be discovered--they had determined to remove the Chief. When he spoke of the other Bagrees, Ka.s.sim realised that in the excitement of fixing the murder upon one there they had forgotten his troop a.s.sociates, and a hurried order was pa.s.sed for their capture.
Of course it was too late; the others, at the first alarm, had slipped away.
When the confession was finished Ka.s.sim commanded the _Mullah_ to rub his cube of India ink over the thumb of the decoit and the mark was imprinted on the paper. Then he was taken to one of the cave cells cut out of the solid rock beneath the palace, and imprisoned for the night.
”Come, Jamadars,” Ka.s.sim said--and his voice that had been so coa.r.s.e and rough now broke, and sobs floated the words scarce articulate--”and reverently let us lay Amir Khan upon his bed. Then, though there be no call of the _muezzin_, we will kneel here; even without our prayer carpets, and pray to Allah for the repose of the soul of a true Musselman and a great warrior. May his rest be one of peace!”
He pa.s.sed his hand lovingly over the face of the Chief and down his beard, and his strong fearless eyes were wet.
Then Amir Khan was lifted by the Jamadars and carried to a bed in the room that adjoined the _surya mahal_.
When they had risen from their silent prayer, Ka.s.sim said: ”Go ye to your tents. I will remain here with the guard who watch.”
CHAPTER XXIV
Captain Barlow and Bootea had gone from the scene of the murder through the long dim-lighted hall, its walls broken here and there by niches of mystery, some of them closed by marble fretwork screens that might have been doors, and down the marble stairway, in silence. Barlow had slipped a hand under her arm in the way of both a physical and mental sustaining; his fingers tapped her arm in affectionate approbation.
Once he muttered to himself in English, ”Splendid girl!” and not comprehending, the Gulab turned her star-eyes upward to his face.
At the gate the soldier who had accompanied them spoke to the guard, and the latter, standing on a step bellowed: ”Ho, ye Pindaris, here goes forth the Afghan in innocence of the foul crime! Above they have the slayer, who was Hunsa the thug; and, Praise be to Allah! they will apply the torture. Let him pa.s.s in peace, all ye. And take care that no one molest the beautiful Gulab. The peace of Allah upon the soul of the great Amir Khan!”
A rippling thunder of deep voices vibrated the thronged street, crying, ”Allah Akbar! the peace of G.o.d be upon the soul of the dead Chief!”
A lane was opened up to them by the grim, wild-eyed, bandit-looking hors.e.m.e.n, _tulwar_ over shoulder and knives in belt, who called: ”Back ye! the favoured of the Commander pa.s.ses. Back, make way! 'tis an order.”
The faces of the soldiers that had been wreathed in revenge and blood-l.u.s.t when Barlow had been brought, were now friendly, and there were cries of ”Salaam, brother! salaam, Flower of the Desert!” for it had been spread that the Gulab had discovered the murderer, had denounced him.
”Brave little Gulab!” Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head to look into her eyes, for he felt the arm trembling against his hand.
She did not answer, and he knew that she was sobbing.
When they were past the turbulent crowd he said, ”Bootea, your people will all have fled or been captured.”
”Yes, Sahib,” she gasped.
”Perhaps even your maid servant will have been taken.”
”No, Sahib, they would not take her; her home is here.”
By her side he travelled to where the now deserted tents of the decoits stood silent and dark, like little paG.o.das of sullen crime. A light flickered in one tent, and silhouetted against its canvas side they could see the form of a woman crouched with her head in her hands.
”The maid is there,” Barlow said: ”but it is not enough. I will bring my blankets and sleep here at the door of your tent.”
”No, Sahib, it is not needed,” the girl protested.
”Yes, Bootea, I will come.” Then with a little laugh he added; ”The G.o.ds have ordained that we take turns at protecting each other. It is now my turn; I will come soon.”
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