Chapter VII
_HOW AHMAD KEPT HIS OATH_
Ahmad returned alone to the Rani's palace. To avert all suspicion ofhis conduct, he dismissed his Afghans to the cantonments on approachingthe city. With the plea of furthering Prasad's interest, he had advisedthe Hindu noble to absent himself when the report of their expeditionwas made. It would be difficult, he explained, to properly advocate theclaim of another, if the person chiefly concerned were present.
Prasad clearly perceived the force of the Mohammedan's suggestion. Herelied implicitly upon the other's good faith, and readily acquiesced.
"Make my best _salaams_ to the divine Rani," he enjoined Ahmad onparting, "and say that I will come to her side as soon as I havechanged my attire for garments more suitable to the presence of aqueen."
Ahmad vowed that he would leave no compliment unsaid on Prasad's behalf.
"In truth," he reflected, as he proceeded on his way, "I may be wrong,but this Rani of ours seems rather to prefer the smell of powder to themost delicate perfume of Teheran. I fancy the courtier finds less favorin her eyes than the man-at-arms. Ah what a treasure! What an _houri_.She must, by the God of Islam, she shall be mine, if I am compelled toplay a hundred different parts in turn."
As Ahmad dismounted, the beggar who had petitioned everyone enteringthe palace that morning, ceased his cry for alms. He crouched furtherinto his corner as instinct told him it was the fierce Mohammedan athand--one whose boast was that he neither feared nor pitied any humanbeing.
Ahmad remarked the beggar's action.
"Thou poor wretch," said he in a voice into which he threw as muchcompassion as he could assume. "Art dumb now as well as blind."?
Surprise was depicted on the face of the beggar, who had learned bypast experience to expect a curse if he ventured to address Ahmad Khan.
"Noble Lord," he faltered. "Is it truly the voice of the great Ahmadthat I hear"?
"Whose voice else"? demanded the Mohammedan in return.
The beggar shrugged his shoulders.
"Lord I know not," he answered.
Ahmad cast a small coin at the beggar's feet, and ascended the palacesteps.
On the porch Bipin had been an interested spectator of the scene.
"Blessed Devi," he reflected. "What next will happen? Perchance weshall behold Ahmad Khan robed as a _Mollah_ calling his people toprayer, from the balcony of a minaret. Everyone seems to be what heis not. To think that the well-looking Prasad should possess sovillainous a heart, and the black Mohammedan display compassion for theunfortunate."
Bipin was still in a most unhappy frame of mind. That morning anothercircumstance had occurred fraught with ill-omen. A white cat bereftof one eye had persistently endeavored to sharpen its talons in hislegs. To fathom the significance of the beast's actions, Bipin hadpromptly repaired to his friend the astrologer, who for a monetaryconsideration, had assured his client that they betokened the swiftunfolding of Prasad's design. As a consequence, Bipin had armed himselfwith an ancient and rusty flint lock pistol, the massive butt of whichprotruded from his waistband.
The weapon at once attracted Ahmad's notice.
"What," he cried with gruff humor. "What do I behold? The worthy BipinDat, the man of peace, armed for mortal combat."
"Illustrious Lord," returned Bipin gravely. "When every man goetharmed, he is a fool who doth not follow the prevailing fashion."
"True, O Secretary," returned Ahmad, laying a familiar though heavyhand upon the other's shoulder. "Come, I like thee all the better forthy display of spirit. Soon thou wilt be wielding a sword with the bestAfghan in my troop."
"And why should I not," rejoined Bipin. "One need not be born in afortress to make a good fighter."
Ahmad threw back his head and laughed heartily. "Bipin," he replied,"I am inclined to think thou hast mistaken thy calling. Thou shouldsthave been a soldier. Come! I will beg a commission for thee from HerHighness, so that thou mayest win the title, _Singh_."
"Not so fast, good sir," replied Bipin. "In dangerous times arms arewell enough for protection, but he who makes a profession of exchangingblows receives too many for my liking."
Ahmad laughed again. "Well! well! Bipin," he exclaimed. "I make nodoubt when the moment comes thou wilt acquit thyself with the best ofus. But in the meantime I would see the Heaven endowed Rani."
Bipin turned, and beckoned Ahmad to follow. He led the way into thepalace.
The Rani had feared that in spite of the solemn injunction she had laidupon Ahmad, his uncontrolled nature might have led him into some overtact against Sadescheo. She was relieved, early in the report, to learn,that he had managed to enforce her authority upon the Maharaja withoutigniting a racial conflagration within her territory.
"Ahmad," she cried with a display of satisfaction. "Thou hast done wellindeed. How can I reward thy services sufficiently"?
"Noble Rani," he answered. "Thy approval of my actions is all therecompense I ask."
A momentary expression of added relief crossed the Rani's face.
She was afraid he might demand that which his soldierly qualitiesentitled him to claim, but which she still hesitated to give.
"If all others were only like thee," she returned, "how much easierwould be my lot, how much more secure would be our position."
"Fair Lady," resumed Ahmad. "My position is uncertain, for I know nothow soon I may be called away to sharpen the blunted teeth of BahadurShah's overfed soldiers. Wrangling among themselves over the plunderthat has fallen into their hands at Delhi, they will scatter to thejungle like a band of jackals at the voice of the Foreign hunter. Butif Ahmad Khan might presume to offer the great Rani some advice incertain matters, he would consider himself well repaid for any servicehe has rendered."
"Gladly will I hear thee, friend Ahmad," acquiesced the Rani.
"Principally is it," continued Ahmad, "in reference to the offices thouwilt doubtless make in _Darbar_ to-morrow. Above all things it would beadvisable to appoint a commander of the troops, to whom both thy Hinduand Mohammedan subjects will look with respect and confidence. If thouhast determined this already, then will the voice of thy humble servantremain silent."
"No Ahmad," returned the Rani thoughtfully. "I have not done so as yet.That matter troubles me more than all else. There are so many worthyaspirants that it is difficult to select the one who would suit theoffice best. Willingly will I listen to thy advice."
"Then, noble Rani," Ahmad proceeded, "Taking into account theconflicting aspects of the question, the man to be chosen must possessmore than one qualification. Courage and daring must first of allbe his birthright, but equally important is a knowledge of militarystrategy--none the less valuable if intuitive rather than acquiredby experience, and in which rapidity of action must be the outwardmanifestation of an alert mind. To these must be added firmness ofcharacter to enforce discipline even to the point of seeming cruelty,holding human life in his own person and in that of others as of noaccount when necessary, yet not unmindful of the needs of his soldierswhose affection he will thereby gain in return. If, further, he shouldpossess youth and a gallant bearing it will be to his advantage, forthe trooper is ever the more eager to follow a captain of distinguishedpresence. If he possesses these qualities, noble Rani, even thoughthy selection were to fall upon a comparative stranger to the state,be assured thou wouldst act most wisely. Such a one I dare to have inmind."
Unconsciously Ahmad had faithfully portrayed the character as yetundisplayed of the girl before whom he stood.
In the pause which ensued it was evident the Rani was mentallyreviewing the faces of those known to her who would be most likely tocoincide with Ahmad's description.
"Ah"! she exclaimed at last. "Dost thou refer to Prasad Singh"?
A look of slight astonishment broke upon Ahmad's face.
"Prasad Singh"! he ejaculated. "Noble Lady," he protested, "for aughtI know to the contrary Prasad Singh _may_ possess all these qualitiesand more. Untried in any important affair, he _m
ay_ prove to be a greatcaptain, though in our little ride to Shahpur, but for the banter ofhis rough companion, I think he would more than once have turned back.But Prasad surely is a good comrade and a handsome fellow, even if hisname doth not hover on my lips."
"Whose name dost thou have in mind, then"? asked the Rani somewhatperplexed.
"It is the young officer Dost Ali, noble Lady," replied Ahmadconfidentially. "Thou wilt have heard his father was a Maratha who wasdriven into exile by the Foreigners, and dying left his young son tothe protection of the illustrious Dost Mohammed. Brought up by such aleader, he has well learned the trade of arms. By birth a Hindu and aMohammedan by adoption, both factions in the state might well unite toserve under him. Moreover, such action on thy part would surely pleasethe great Amir of Afghanistan, some of whose troopers are now a partof thy forces, and whose doubtful attitude toward the Foreigners mightthereby be determined in support of India's cause."
The Rani turned from Ahmad and gazed out of a window pensively. Therewas forming quickly in her mind an ulterior object that might bepromoted by following Ahmad's suggestion. Among her older officersthere was a marked disposition to regard her opinion in militaryaffairs lightly, as that of a mere girl whose judgment in such matterscould be of no value. A younger man, susceptible to her personal charm,would, she thought, be more likely to follow, unhesitatingly, thedictates of her will.
"Thou hast observed the young officer of whom I speak, my Rani"? Ahmadasked with a shade of anxiety in his voice, as he waited on her answer.
"Truly I have," she answered. "I have remarked him well several times.I like his manner and appearance. There is much discernment in whatthou sayest. For a space I will think over it, and to-morrow make knownmy decision."
Ahmad _salaamed_ low and withdrew from her presence.
So far, he was satisfied with the favorable view the Rani seemed totake of his covert plan of installing a _protege_ of his own in one ofthe most important offices of the government, and the deeper project ofeventually destroying his rival by that means.
The Rani proceeded to an inner court, and called her chief waitingwoman to her side.
"Rati," she began. "I am curious to know what other women--the ladiesof the _zananas_--think of me. Tell me, O Rati, thou who learnest suchthings, what is the opinion in such places of Lachmi Bai"?
The girl looked nonplussed.
"Speak truly," enjoined the Rani. "Flattery enough I can have for thewish."
The girl's uneasiness increased visibly.
"Noble Rani. They say. They say"--she hesitated.
"Yes, what do they say"? the Rani demanded impatiently.
"That thou art well gifted, O noble one," the girl replied evasively.
The Rani turned a look of displeasure upon the girl. "I did not ask forthat," she spoke authoritatively. "Tell me what else do they say of me"?
"Some affirm that thou art as beautiful as the opening lotus, butothers"--
The girl broke off timidly.
"Others," concluded the Rani with a smile. "Others are afraid for theirsweethearts, aye Rati"?
"Perchance, noble Lady," acquiesced the girl.
The Rani's humor displayed itself in a silvery laugh that was echoed bythe walls of the court.
"Rati," she commanded, "what more do they say"?
"O great one," petitioned the girl, "urge me not in this manner, lestthou become offended."
"Offended surely will I become unless thou doest as I bid thee."
The girl paused a moment, then proceeded fearfully.
"They say, O Rani, that thou art vain of thy beauty, and forgettestthy modesty as a Hindu woman by so openly consorting with soldiers andgallants."
"Say they so," the Rani cried passionately, stung to the quick by theimplication.
The girl fell at the Rani's feet and implored her not to visitpunishment upon an unwilling offender's head.
"Pardon, O Queen. Thou didst force me," she besought fervently.
"I am not angry with thee, poor girl," the Rani replied in a softenedtone. "But while my actions are seen by all, to what do many of these_zanana_ beauties stoop? The shutters of their windows can best tell. Iwill show them, these women of such fine sensibilities, how the Rani,for all her pride, observes a custom too much falling into disuse amongthe rich and great. I have heard that my honored _guru_[3] cometh toaid me with advice, that he even now approaches Jhansi. Go, therefore,order my bearers, so that I may go forth to receive him with all therespect due his office."
The girl rose, and departed to obey the Rani's behest.
The Rani raised a hand wearily to her forehead.
"So much discussion to appease," she murmured, "so much jealousy andenvy among those who should assist, rather than thwart the only onewho dared to do what has been accomplished. Love! Ah, only it seems dothe poor and afflicted truly love the Rani. Even Prasad, who vows byall things sacred that my image beatifies his sleep, hath ever a favoruppermost in mind."
Presently a state _duli_[4] with curtains to screen the occupant fromview, was carried to the entrance of the palace.
To the surprise of her servants the Rani came forth without her_burkha_, or long mantle, invariably worn by native ladies of rank toconceal the whole person in public.
She promptly ordered the curtains of the _duli_ to be removed.
For a moment her servants hesitated to comply. Never before did theyrecollect such an order to have been given.
"What," she cried. "Dost thou not hear my command? Take those hangingsaway. I am not a Mohammedan, but a Hindu Rani in my own right. Of oldtime our princesses were not afraid to show their faces to the people.It is my pleasure that they shall know well the features of Lachmi Bai."
The curtains were hurriedly removed. The Rani entered her chair, andsurrounded by her servants was borne in the direction of the city gate,through which it was expected her _guru_ would enter.
At the head of the procession, the worthy secretary, Bipin Dat, marchedwith pompous dignity. Against all contingencies, he had prudentlyfurther armed himself with a long sword, that trailed in the dust athis side, and made him an awe inspiring object to the beggars thatchanced in his way.
As the procession passed through the streets, the people saluted theRani with terms of affection. Many turned to catch a glimpse of herface.
"See," they cried. "The Rani of Jhansi fears not the gaze of our eyes."
It had gone little more than half the distance to the gate, when it wasmet by a bullock cart in which rode an old man of venerable aspect.
The Rani seemed to instantly recognize his features. She commanded herbearers to halt.
"It is my dear _Guru_," she cried. "Ah, how glad I am to see him."
On his part the old man recognized the rich liveries of the servantsas those of his godchild, the Rani. With an effort he dismounted fromhis cart and would have prostrated himself before her, had she notanticipated his action.
She alighted quickly and knelt at his feet. She embraced themaffectionately, and cried in a voice which all might hear:
"O _Guru_, live forever. Grant a blessing to thy godchild, Lachmi Bai."
For a moment the old man's face reflected the astonishment of the crowdthat had gathered. That she should thus humble herself in public wascertainly a surprising act. But its significance was not lost upon thepeople, who, as the old man raised her in his arms tenderly, calleddown a thousand blessings on her head.
The first greetings over, the _Guru_ was about to again climb into hisrickety vehicle, when the Rani interposed. She insisted that he takeher place in the _duli_.
At first, the old man demurred at so great an honor being accorded him.But the Rani was persistent.
"Before, I have ever met thee, dear _Guru_," she cried, "as but a poorcaptive in Jhansi. Now that I am the Rani, I desire my people shall seeI am not unmindful of the ancient customs of our race."
Thus she followed on foot behind her _Guru's_ chair, as the processionreturned to the palace.