Five Lakhs Of Rupees
:
The Coming Conquest Of England
At noon Prince Tchajawadse departed northwards accompanied by his page
Georgi and his Indian servant. Heideck had observed great reserve during
the short time he had known the beautiful Circassian, and had never
betrayed that he had guessed the secret of her disguise. She seemed to
be grateful, for although they never had exchanged words, she smiled at
him and gave him very friendly glances at their chance meetings. There
/>
could be no doubt concerning the relation of the beautiful page and his
master. Heideck may have felt some jealousy--he hardly ever had seen a
more charming girl than this Circassian beauty in her picturesque dress;
but all his thoughts were with Edith. The Russian was indeed a lucky
fellow to have found such a charming travelling companion. She never
forgot her assumed part of the page, when strangers were near, and yet
it was clear to Heideck that she in truth was master. A single glance of
her flashing eyes was sufficient to keep the Prince in order, when under
the influence of intoxicants he would have otherwise given way to his
brutal instincts. In her presence he never dared to use ambiguous and
frivolous language.
With sincere regret Heideck saw the Prince depart. He did not share the
hope, which the latter expressed to him, that they would meet again.
But he remembered him as one of his most interesting acquaintances and
a very charming comrade notwithstanding those little foibles he had
noticed.
. . . . . . .
It struck seven o'clock when Heideck in full evening dress entered the
Colonel's drawing-room. He felt a wave of keen joy surging through him
when he noticed that it was empty, except for Edith Irwin. The horrible
events she had passed through had left her a little pale. To him she
seemed more beautiful than ever. She met him with a smile and gave him
her hand, which he kissed with great emotion.
"Mrs. Baird and the Colonel beg to be excused for a quarter of an hour,"
said she. "The Colonel has still much to do with the preparations for
the mobilisation. Mrs. Baird is suffering from one of her bad attacks of
headache and has had to lie down for a short time."
Heideck's face told Edith clearly enough that he gladly forgave his
host and hostess this little impoliteness. After having taken a chair
opposite hers, he began--
"I hope most sincerely, Mrs. Irwin, that you have had no annoyance on
account of my late call. All day long yesterday this was on my mind."
With a sad smile she replied, "No, no. On the contrary, my husband has
asked me to tell you that he is very sorry not to be able to thank you
personally for your heroic behaviour. He hopes to be able to do so
later on. He has been ordered to go to Lahore in great haste and for an
indefinite period. There was not time for him to see you, in order to
thank you."
Heideck imagined that he knew what this order meant. But he only asked:
"And are you going to stay on here under the protection of the Colonel?"
"Nothing definite has been arranged as yet. Nobody knows what may happen
to-morrow. It is certain that extraordinary events are in preparation.
In case of war, we poor women have to do as we are told, you know."
"And the Maharajah? You have not heard about him?"
"Colonel Baird saw the Prince officially yesterday; but I do not know
anything more; I had not the courage to ask. It seems to me quite
certain that the Maharajah is hostilely disposed towards the Colonel.
The event which happened here to-day is, I think, immediately to be
connected with the Maharajah. I know the ways of these Indian despots!"
"May I venture to ask what has happened?"
"An attempt to poison the Colonel at his own table."
"To poison the Colonel?" asked Heideck surprised.
"Yes. Colonel Baird's habit is to drink a tumbler of ice-water before
each meal. To-day, at tiffin, the Indian butler gave it him as usual.
The water appeared to him rather cloudy. He did not drink it at once,
and after a few minutes he noticed distinctly a white sediment at the
bottom of the tumbler. When he called for the Indian butler, the man had
disappeared, and has not been found yet. That increased our suspicion
that an attempt at poisoning had been made. A small quantity of the
fluid had been put into a dish which contained the food for the dogs.
It was then placed into a rat-trap which contained five or six of these
ravenous beasts. Ten minutes later they were dead. The remains of the
water have been given to Doctor Hopkins. He is going to make a chemical
analysis, and to tell us about it at dinner-time."
Before Heideck could find the time again to resume the discussion of
Edith's personal affairs, Mrs. Baird came in, accompanied by the Colonel
and his adjutant. They all shook hands with him in the most charming
way, and after Doctor Hopkins had also arrived, a small man with a very
vivacious manner, they went in to dinner.
Perhaps the Colonel would have preferred that nothing should be said in
Heideck's presence about the poisoning attempt. His wife's impatience
and excitement, however, could not be restrained.
"Well, Doctor Hopkins," she asked, "and what have you found?"
The Doctor evidently had been waiting for this.
"One of the most deadly poisons the Indians know," he answered. "The
diamond powder. There is no antidote for it, and it is impossible to
trace it in the body of the poisoned person, because it is of vegetable
nature, and gets absorbed in the tissues."
A cry of horror escaped Mrs. Baird. She covered her eyes with her hand.
Mr. Hopkins continued: "I have never before come across the diamond
powder, notwithstanding its use is said not to be uncommon. The
preparation of it is a secret, anxiously guarded by the Indian
physicians. It seems to play the same part at the Courts of the Indian
princes that the celebrated 'aqua tuffana' did in the Middle Ages
amongst the Italian despots."
These learned explanations of Doctor Hopkins were not adapted to raise
the spirits of the company. Everyone remembered that this horrible
attempt had only been frustrated by a lucky chance. The Colonel,
who seemed to feel very uncomfortable on listening to the Doctor's
conversation, gave a sign to his wife to rise, rather sooner than usual.
Tea and drinks cooled in ice were served in the verandah, charmingly
illuminated by coloured lamps. Heideck had only had eyes for Edith all
the evening. But he had avoided anxiously everything which might have
betrayed his feelings. And, even now, he would not have dared to join
her in the half-dark corner of the verandah, where she had seated
herself, unless she had called out to him asking him to take the empty
seat at her side.
"Mr. Heideck, here is another chair," she said, in a perfectly natural
voice, drawing aside the pleats of her foulard skirt in order to let him
pass. Again their eyes met unnoticed by the others. The violent beating
of his heart would have told him that he was entirely in the thraldom of
this beautiful young woman had he not known it already.
Suddenly the well-known shouts and cries of Indian drivers were
heard. The conversation stopped and everybody looked and observed with
astonishment the curious procession of waggons which they could see
approaching, as the night was pretty clear. The Colonel excepted, no one
understood the meaning of this spectacle. There were five waggons
drawn by richly harnessed bullocks and escorted by a bodyguard of the
Maharajah on horseback. Their captain rode till close to the verandah,
then dismounted, and went up the steps. His mien was distinguished,
and at the same time dignified. He was young and handsome, with Greek
features and big, melancholy eyes. He wore a blouse of yellow silk, held
around the waist by a shawl of violet silk, English riding-breeches,
and high, yellow boots. A string of pearls was laid round his turban of
violet-striped silk, and diamonds, large as hazel-nuts, sparkled on his
breast as they caught the light of the lamp.
"That is Tasatat Rajah, the cousin and favourite of the Prince,"
whispered Edith, in answer to a question which she read in Heideck's
face. "No doubt the Maharajah is sending him with a special mission."
The Colonel had risen and gone to meet his visitor, but he neither shook
hands with him nor asked him to be seated.
"Greetings, long life and happiness, sahib, to you in the name of
His Highness," he began with that noble air peculiar to the high-born
Indian. "In token of his friendship and his respect he is sending you
a small gift. He hopes you will accept it as a proof that you have
forgotten the conversation which you had yesterday with His Highness in
consequence of an unfortunate misunderstanding."
"His Highness is very kind," was the Colonel's answer, in a voice rather
formal, "may I ask in what consists the present he is sending me?"
"Every one of these five waggons, sahib, contains a hundred thousand
rupees."
"That is as much as five lakhs?"
"It is so. And I ask you once more kindly to favour His Highness with a
reply."
The Colonel considered a moment, and then answered with the same quiet
demeanour and impenetrable expression, "Thanks to you, Prince. Have the
contents of these waggons carried into the hall. The Viceroy will decide
what is to be done with it later on."
The Prince's face clearly showed his disappointment. For a little while
he remained there standing as if considering what to do. But recognising
that the Englishman wished to end the conversation, he touched the
middle of his forehead with his right hand and descended the steps of
the verandah. With the assistance of English soldiers a great many small
casks were carried into the hall. The procession moved on again with
the same cries and shouts which had accompanied its approach and soon
disappeared.
A smile flitted across the Colonel's face, erstwhile so unemotional,
as he turned towards his guests, probably feeling that some sort of
explanation for his attitude was due to them.
"I consider this half-million a very desirable acquisition towards the
war expenses of my detachment. But these Orientals never can understand
our way of thinking, and our ideas of honour will always remain an
insoluble riddle to them. With a present, that he, of course, has meant
for me personally, this despot believes he has smoothed over everything
that could possibly spell trouble for him--the plot against Mrs. Irwin
as well as the diamond powder business. For, of course, he has already
been informed by the butler who has disappeared of the failure of his
plot, and he is well aware of what is in store for him if I report the
scandalous story to Calcutta."
It was the first time the Colonel had openly declared his conviction
that the Maharajah was the author of both plots. No doubt he had
especial reasons for this, and Heideck fancied he had fathomed them,
when, in reply to the question of the regimental surgeon as to his
intention of sending in such a report, the Colonel replied--
"I do not know--I really do not know yet. According to the principle,
fiat justitia, pereat mundus, I ought to do so, no doubt. But the pereat
mundus is, after all, a debatable point. Probably war is imminent, and
I am afraid the Viceroy would not be grateful to me were I to add fresh
cares to all his other anxieties. At present these Indian princes are
indispensable to us. They have to place their troops at our disposal,
and we must not have any enemies in the rear when our army is engaged
in Afghanistan. A harsh procedure against one of them, and all these
princes might revolt. And a single defeat, or even only the false report
of one, might entail incalculable consequences."
Doctor Hopkins assented without further discussion, and also the other
officers present shared the opinion of their chief. As usual, during
these last days a lively discussion had arisen as to the probabilities
of war, and as to the probable course events would take. Heideck,
certain of learning nothing new from the mouths of these gentlemen, all
so confident of victory, utilised the opportunity afforded by the noisy
conversation to ask Edith, in a low voice--
"Not only political considerations, but also your wishes, have
prevented the Colonel from reporting the outrage of the other night to
Calcutta--is it not so?"
"Yes, I begged him not to do so," she answered in the same low whisper.
"But to-day, after the abominable plot upon his life, I told him that
I do not ask any longer for any consideration to be shown me, or
my--husband."
"You seriously think it possible that Captain Irwin--"
"Pray do not let us talk about it now, and not here, Mr. Heideck," she
begged, raising her eyes to him imploringly. "You cannot have any idea
how terribly I suffer from these dreadful thoughts. I feel as if before
me lay only dark, impenetrable night. And when I reflect that some day I
may be again forced--"
She did not finish her sentence, but Heideck knew well enough what she
had omitted to say. An irresistible impulse made him answer--
"You must not allow yourself to be driven to take any course repugnant
to your heart, Mrs. Irwin. And who is there who would dare to attempt to
force you?"
"Oh, Mr. Heideck, you have no idea what regard for so-called 'GOOD FORM'
means for us English people. No scandal--for Heaven's sake, no scandal!
That is the first and prime law of our Society. Kind as the Colonel and
his wife have been to me until now, I am very much afraid they would
drop me, without question of my guilt or innocence, if I should allow
anything to take place which they consider a scandal."
"And yet you must obey solely your own feeling--only the commands of
your heart and conscience, Mrs. Irwin; not the narrow views of
the Colonel or any other person. You must not become a martyr to a
prejudice--I simply cannot hear the idea. And you must promise me--"
He stopped short. A sudden lull in the general conversation caused him
to be silent also. And he fancied he saw the intelligent and penetrating
eyes of Mrs. Baird directed upon himself with an expression of mistrust.
He was displeased with himself. Displeased, because the intoxicating
proximity of the adored being, and his aversion for her husband, that
had almost increased to passionate hatred, had led him into the danger
of compromising her. But when, soon afterwards, he took his leave,
together with the other guests, a soft pressure of Edith's hand gave him
the delightful assurance that she was far from being angry with him.