LightNovesOnl.com

The Red Year Part 21

The Red Year - LightNovelsOnl.com

You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.

"Wow!" The kneeling man flinched as the sword p.r.i.c.ked him again. "There are two mems[17] in a house near the ghat. They alone remain of those who crossed. And I saved them, sahib. I swear it, by the Kaaba, I saved them."

[Footnote 17: Short for mem-sahibs; ladies.]

"They are young, doubtless, and good-looking?"

A new fear shone in the Mohammedan's eyes, and he did not answer.

Frank's gorge rose with a deadly disgust, and it is hard to say that his sword would not have gone home in another instant had not Chumru interfered:



"Kill him not yet, sahib. He may be useful. Bind him and the other slave back to back. Then I shall help you to truss them properly."

Chumru soon showed that he meant business. When he was free to replace the pistol in the holster, which he did all the more readily since he had never used a firearm in his life, he gagged master and man with skill, tied them to a tree, and then unfolded the plan which the ekka-driver's story had suggested.

The fever of rebellion had spread along the whole of the left bank of the Ganges as far as Allahabad. A party of fugitives from Fattehpore who had taken to a boat were pursued, captured, and slain. Two girls who had managed to cross the river unseen were now lodged in a go-down, or warehouse, belonging to the very man whom chance had made Malcolm's prisoner. He was keeping them to curry favor with a local rajah who headed the outbreak at Fattehpore. It was true that there were no boats left on this side of the river: they were all on the opposite bank, being loaded with loot, and the two Englishwomen were merely awaiting the return of the zemindar's budgerow to be sent to a fate worse than death.

Chumru, a Mohammedan himself, was not greatly concerned about the misfortunes of a couple of women, but he saw plainly that Malcolm could no more hope to escape under the present conditions than the poor creatures whose whereabouts had just become known. This was precisely the blend of intrigue and adventure that appealed to his alert intelligence. In wriggling through a mesh of difficulties he was lithe as a snake, and the proposal he now made was certainly bold enough to commend itself to the most daring.

He drew Malcolm and the trembling ryot apart.

"Listen, friend," said he to the latter. "Thou art, indeed, lost if that fat hog sees thee again. He will harry thee and thy wife and all thy family to death for having helped us, and it will be in vain to protest that thou hadst no mind in the matter, for behold, thou didst not lift a finger when I threatened him with the pistol."

"Protector of the poor, what was one to do?" whined the ryot.

"I am not thy protector. 'Tis the sahib here to whom thou must look for counsel. Attend, now, and I will show thee a road to safety and riches.

Art thou known to either of those men?"

"I have not seen them before, for I come this way but seldom."

"'Tis well. The sahib shall sit in the ekka, with the curtains drawn, while I give it out that I go with my wife to take the miss-sahibs across the river, for which purpose the worthy zemindar will presently hand us a written order, as he hath ink, paper, and pen in the ekka.

Thou shalt be driver and come with us on the boat, and when we are in mid-stream, and the sahib appears at my signal, see that thou hast a cudgel handy if it be needed. Then, when we reach Allahabad, G.o.d willing, the sahib will give thee many rupees and none will be the wiser. What say'st thou?"

"I am a poor man--"

"Ay, keep to that. 'Tis ever a safe answer. Do you like my notion, sahib? Otherwise, we must take our chance and wander in the jungle."

The fact that Chumru's scheme included the rescue of the unhappy girls imprisoned in the go-down caused Malcolm to approve it without reserve.

The zemindar's gag was removed and he was asked his name.

"Hossein Beg," said he.

"Be a.s.sured, then," said Malcolm, sternly, "that thy life depends on the fulfilment of the instructions I now require of thee. See to it, therefore, that they are written in such wise as to insure success, and I, for my part, promise to send thee succor ere night falls. Write on this tablet that the miss-sahibs are to be delivered to the charge of Rissaldar Ali Khan and his wife, for conveyance to Fattehpore, and bid thy servants help the rissaldar in every possible way. Believe me, if aught miscarries in this matter, thou shalt rot to death in thy bonds."

"Let my servant go with your honor, so that all things may be done according to your honor's wishes."

"What then? Wouldst thou juggle with the favor I have shown thee?"

This time the sword impinged on the Adam's apple in Hossein Beg's throat, and he shrank as far as his bonds would permit.

"Say not so, Khudawand,"[18] he gurgled. "I swear by my father's bones I meant no ill."

[Footnote 18: Master.]

"Mayhap. Nevertheless, I shall take care thy intent is honest, Hossein Beg. Write now and pay heed to thy words, else jackals shall rend thee ere to-morrow's dawn."

By this time the man was reduced to a state of abject submission.

Possibly his offer of the ekka-wallah's services was made in good faith, but Malcolm liked the looks of the man as little as he liked the looks of his master, and he preferred to trust to Chumru's nimble wits rather than the stupid contriving of a peasant, no matter how willing the latter might be.

The zemindar, having written, was gagged again, and the pair were left to that torture of silence and doubt they had not scrupled to inflict on those who had done them no wrong. They were tied to a tree-trunk in the heart of a clump, and a hundred men might pa.s.s in that lonely place without discovering them, whereas Hossein Beg and his subordinate could see easily enough through the leafy screen that enveloped their open-air prison.

Half an hour later, Hossein Beg's ekka arrived on the open s.p.a.ce that adjoined the village ghat. At one end was a mosque--at the other a temple. In the center, at a little distance from the bank, was a square modern building, evidently the warehouse in which the English ladies were pent.

With the ekka came a rissaldar of cavalry, riding one horse and leading two others. When he dismounted a scabbard clattered at his heels, for Malcolm now had the pistols between his knees as he sat behind the tightly drawn curtains of the vehicle.

"Mohammed Rasul!" shouted the rissaldar, loudly. "Where is Mohammed Rasul? I must discourse with him instantly."

A man came running.

"Ohe, sirdar," he cried. "Behold, I come!"

A note was thrust into the runner's hands.

"Read, and quickly," was the imperious order. "I have affairs at Fattehpore and cannot wait here long. Is there a boat to be hired?"

"A budgerow is even now approaching, leader of the faithful."

"Good. There is some disposition to be made of two Feringhi women. Read that which Hossein Beg hath written, and make haste, I pray thee, brother."

Perhaps Mohammed Rasul wondered why his employer wrote in such imploring strain that he was to obey the wors.h.i.+pful "Ali Khan's" slightest word, and bestow him and his belongings, together with the two prisoners, on board a boat for Fattehpore with the utmost speed. However that may be, he lost no time. The budgerow was warped close to the ghat, her contents, mostly European furniture, as Malcolm could see through a fold in the curtain, were promptly unloaded, and preparations made for the return journey. First, the horses were led on board and secured. Then two pallid girls, only half clothed, their eyes red with weeping and their cheeks haggard with misery, were led from the go-down.

"Ali Khan" was about to guide the ekka along the rough gangway when Mohammed Rasul interfered.

"My master says naught concerning the ekka and pony," said he. "He hath detained Gopi, and this driver is unknown to me. Who will bring them back when they have served your needs, sirdar?"

"I will attend to that," replied Chumru, gruffly, and Hossein Beg's factotum had perforce to be content with the undertaking.

But fate, which had certainly favored Malcolm and his native comrade thus far, played them what looked like a jade's trick at the very moment when success was within their grasp. The ekka pony, frightened by the lap of the swift-flowing water against the steps beneath, s.h.i.+ed, backed, and strove to reach the sh.o.r.e. Not all Chumru's wiry strength, aided by the alarmed ryot, could prevent the brute from turning. A wheel slipped off the staging, the narrow vehicle toppled over, and the amazed spectators saw a booted and spurred British officer of cavalry sprawling on the ghat instead of the veiled Mohammedan woman who ought to have made her appearance in this undignified manner.

Malcolm was on his feet in a second.

"Come on, Chumru!" he cried, as he leaped on board the budgerow. He saw one of the crew take an extra turn of a rope round a cat-head, and fired at him. Hit or miss, the fellow tumbled overboard, and his mates followed. Chumru, a.s.sisted by the ryot, who elected at this twelfth hour to throw in his lot with that of the sahib, began to cast off the cables. Even the two dazed girls helped, once they knew that an Englishman was fighting in their behalf.

To add to the excitement on sh.o.r.e Malcolm fired the second pistol at the men nearest to the boat, which was already beginning to slip away with the current. Then he rushed to the helm, unlashed it, and turned the boat's head toward the channel, while Chumru and the ryot, helped by the girls, hauled at the heavy mat sail.

Having lashed the helm again in order to keep the budgerow on the starboard tack, Malcolm was about to lend a hand, despite his wound, when a spurt of firing from the bank took him by surprise, because he had seen neither gun nor pistol in the hands of the loungers on the ghat, and the coolies were certainly unarmed.

Glancing back he saw a man whom he had last seen in the moulvie's company at Rai Bareilly gesticulating fiercely as he directed the target practise of a number of men. A group of lathered horses behind them showed that they had ridden far and fast, so the accident, which nearly led to his undoing, had really helped to save him and his companions, else the fusillade to which they were now subjected must have taken place while the boat was still tied to the wharf.

"Lie flat on the deck," he shouted in English, and repeated the words in Hindustani. He flung himself down by Chumru's side.

Click Like and comment to support us!

RECENTLY UPDATED NOVELS

About The Red Year Part 21 novel

You're reading The Red Year by Author(s): Louis Tracy. This novel has been translated and updated at LightNovelsOnl.com and has already 562 views. And it would be great if you choose to read and follow your favorite novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest novels, a novel list updates everyday and free. LightNovelsOnl.com is a very smart website for reading novels online, friendly on mobile. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] or just simply leave your comment so we'll know how to make you happy.