CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH
*In which the Babu tells the story of King Vikramaditya; and thediscerning reader may find more than appears on the surface.*
Day followed day in dreary sameness. Regularly every evening Desmondwas locked with his eight fellow-prisoners in the shed, there to spendhours of weariness and discomfort until morning brought release and thecommon task. He had the same rations of rice and ragi,[#] withoccasional doles of more substantial fare. He was carefully kept fromall communication with the other European prisoners, and as the Bengaliwas the only man of his set who knew English, his only opportunities ofusing his native tongue occurred in the evening, before he slept.
[#] A cereal.
His fellow-prisoners spoke Urdu among themselves, and Desmond found somealleviation of the monotony of his life in learning the lingua franca ofIndia under the Babu's tuition. He was encouraged to persevere in thestudy by the fact that the Babu proved to be an excellent story-teller,often beguiling the tedium of wakeful hours in the shed by relatinginterminable narratives from the Hindu mythology, and in particular theexploits of the legendary hero Vikramaditya. So accomplished was he inthis very Oriental art that it was not uncommon for one or other of thesentries to listen to him through the opening in the shed wall, and thehead-warder who locked the prisoners' fetters would himself sometimessquat down at the door before leaving them at night, and remain aninterested auditor until the blast of a horn warned all in fort and townthat the hour of sleep had come. It was some time before Desmond wassufficiently familiar with the language to pick up more than a few wordsof the stories here and there, but in three months he found himself ableto follow the narrative with ease.
Meanwhile he was growing apace. The constant work in the open air,clad, save, during the rains, in nothing but a thin dhoti[#], developedhis physique and, even in that hot climate, hardened his muscles. TheBabu one day remarked with envy that he would soon be deemed worthy ofpromotion to Angria's own gallivat, whose crew consisted of picked menof all nationalities. This was an honour Desmond by no means coveted.As a dockyard workman, earning his food by the sweat of his brow, he didnot come in contact with Angria, and was indeed less hardly used than hehad been on board the _Good Intent_. But to become a galley-slave seemedto him a different thing, and the prospect of pulling an oar in thePirate's gallivat served to intensify his longing to be free.
[#] A cloth worn round the waist, passed between the legs and tucked inbehind the back.
For, though he proved so willing and docile in the dockyard, not a daypassed but he pondered the idea of escape. He seized every opportunityof learning the topography of the fort and town, being aided in thisunwittingly by Govinda, who employed him more and more often, as hebecame familiar with the language, in conveying messages from one partof the settlement to another. But he was forced to confess to himselfthat the chances of escape were very slight. Gheria was many miles fromthe nearest European settlement where he might find refuge. To escapeby sea seemed impossible; if he fled through the town and got clear ofAngria's territory he would almost certainly fall into the hands of thePeshwa's[#] people, and although the Peshwa was nominally an ally of theCompany, his subjects--a lawless, turbulent, predatory race--were notlikely to be specially friendly to a solitary English lad. A half-felthope that he might be able to reach Suvarndrug, lately captured byCommodore James, was dashed by the news that that fort had been handedover by him to the Marathas. Moreover, such was the rivalry among thevarious European nations competing for trade in India that he was by nomeans sure of a friendly reception if he should succeed in gaining aPortuguese or Dutch settlement. Dark stories were told of Portuguesedealings with Englishmen, and the Dutch bore no good repute for theirtreatment of prisoners.
[#] The prime minister and real ruler of the Maratha kingdom.
It was a matter of wonder to Desmond that none of his companions everhinted at escape. He could not imagine that any man could be a slavewithout feeling a yearning for liberty; yet these men lived through theunvarying round, eating, toiling, sleeping, without any apparent mentalrevolt. He could only surmise that all manliness and spirit had beencrushed out of them, and from motives of prudence he forbore to speak offreedom.
But one evening, a sultry October evening when the shed was like anoven, and, bathed in sweat, he felt utterly limp and depressed, he askedthe Babu in English whether any one had ever escaped out of Angria'sclutches. Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti glanced anxiously around, as iffearful that the others might understand. But they lay listless ontheir charpoys; they knew no English, and there was nothing in Desmond'stone to quicken their hopelessness.
"No, sahib," said the Bengali; "such escapade, if successful, is beyondmy ken. There have been attempts: _cui bono_? Nobody is an anna thebetter. Nay, the last state of such misguided men is even worse; theydie suffering very ingenious torture."
Desmond had been amazed at the Babu's command of English until he learntthat the man was an omnivorous reader, and in his leisure at Calcuttahad spent many an hour in poring over such literature as his master'sscanty library afforded, the works of Mr. Samuel Johnson and Mr. HenryFielding in particular.
At this moment Desmond said no more, but in the dead of night, when allwere asleep, he leant over to the Babu's charpoy and gently nudged him.
"Surendra Nath!" he whispered.
"Who calls?" returned the Babu.
"Listen. Have you yourself ever thought of escaping?"
"Peace and quietness, sir. He will hear."
"Who?"
"The Gujarati, sir--Fuzl Khan."
"But he doesn't understand. And if he did, what then?"
"He was the single man, positively unique, who was spared among sixattempting escape last rains."
"They did make an attempt, then. Why was he spared?"
"That, sir, deponent knoweth not. The plot was carried to Angria."
"How?"
"That also is dark as pitch. But Fuzl Khan was spared, that we know.No man can trust his _vis-a-vis_. No man is now so bold to discuss suchmatters."
"Is that why we are all chained up at night?"
"That, sir, is the case. It is since then our limbs are shackled."
Desmond thought over this piece of information. He had noticed that theGujarati was left much alone by the others. They were outwardly civilenough, but they rarely spoke to him of their own accord, and sometimesthey would break off in a conversation if he appeared interested.Desmond had put this down to the man's temper; he was a sullen fellow,with a perpetually hangdog look, occasionally breaking out in paroxysmsof violence which cost him many a scourging from the overseer'smerciless rattan. But the attitude of his fellow-prisoner was moreeasily explained if the Babu's hint was well founded. They feared him.Yet, if he had indeed betrayed his comrades, he had gained little by histreachery. He was no favourite with the officers of the yard. Theykept him hard at work, and seemed to take a delight in harrying him.More than once, unjustly as it appeared to Desmond, he had madeacquaintance with the punishment tank. In his dealings with his fellowshe was morose and offensive. A man of great physical strength, he was amatch for any two of his shed companions save the Biluchis, who, thoughindividually weaker, retained something of the spirit of their race andmade common cause against him. The rest he bullied, and none more thanthe Bengali, whose weaklier constitution spared him the hard manual workof the yard, but whose timidity invited aggression.
Now that the subject which constantly occupied his thoughts had beenmooted, Desmond found himself more eagerly striving to find a solutionof the problem presented by the idea of escape. At all hours of theday, and often when he lay in sleepless discomfort at night, his activemind recurred to the one absorbing matter: how to regain his freedom.He had already canvassed the possibilities of escape by land, only todismiss the idea as utterly impracticable; for even could he elude thevigilance of the sentries he could not pass as a native, and the perilsbesetting an Englishm
an were not confined to Angria's territory. Buthow stood the chances of escape by sea? Could he stow himself on boarda grab or gallivat, and try to swim ashore when near some friendly port?He put the suggestion from him as absurd. Supposing he succeeded instowing himself on an outgoing vessel, how could he know when he wasnear a friendly port without risking almost certain discovery? Besides,except in such rare cases as the visit of an interloper like the _GoodIntent_, the Pirate did little trade. His vessels were employed mainlyin dashing out on insufficiently-convoyed merchantmen.
But the train of thought once started could not but be followed out.What if he could seize a grab or gallivat in the harbour? To navigatesuch a vessel required a party, men having some knowledge of the sea.How stood his fellow-prisoners in that respect? The Biluchis, tall wirymen, were traders, and had several times, he knew, made the voyage fromthe Persian Gulf to Surat. It was on one of these journeys that they hadfallen into Angria's hands. They might have picked up something of thesimpler details of navigation. The Mysoreans, being up-country men andagriculturists, were not likely even to have seen the sea until theybecame slaves of Angria. The Marathas would be loth to embark; theybelonged to a warrior race which had for centuries lived by raiding itsneighbours; but being forbidden by their religion to eat or drink at seathey would never make good sailors. The Babu was a native of Bengal,and the Bengalis were physically the weakest of the Indian peoples,constitutionally timid, and unenterprising in matters demanding physicalcourage. Desmond smiled as he thought of how his friend Surendra Nathmight comport himself in a storm.
There remained the Gujarati, and of his nautical capacity Desmond knewnothing. But, mentioning the matter of seamanship casually to the Babuone day, he learnt that Fuzl Khan was a khalasi[#] from Cutch. He hadin him a strain of negro blood, derived probably from some Zanzibariancestor brought to Cutch as a slave. The men of the coast of Cutchwere the best sailors in India; and Fuzl Khan himself had spent aconsiderable portion of his life at sea.
[#] Sailor.
Thus reflecting on the qualities of his fellow-captives. Desmond hadruefully to acknowledge that they would make a poor crew to navigate agrab or gallivat. Yet he could find no other, for Angria's system ofmixing the nationalities was cunningly devised to prevent any concertedschemes. If the attempt was to be made at all, it must be made with themen whom he knew intimately and with whom he had opportunities ofdiscussing a plan.
But he was at once faced by the question of the Gujarati'strustworthiness. If there was any truth in Surendra Nath's suspicions,he would be quite ready to betray his fellows; and if looks and mannerwere any criterion, the suspicions were amply justified. True, the manhad gained nothing by his former treachery, but that might not preventhim from repeating it, in the hope that a second betrayal would compelreward.
While Desmond was still pondering and puzzling, it happened oneunfortunate day that Govinda the overseer was carried off within a fewhours by what the Babu called the cramp--the disease now known ascholera. His place was immediately filled. But his successor was avery different man. He was not so capable as Govinda, and endeavouredto make up for his incapacity by greater brutality and violence. Thework of the yard fell off; he tried to mend matters by harrying the men.The whip and rattan were in constant use, but the result was lessefficiency than ever, and he sought for the cause everywhere but inhimself. The lives of the captives, bad enough before, became acontinual torment. Desmond fared no better than the rest. He lost thetrifling privileges he had formerly enjoyed. The new overseer seemed totake a delight in bullying him. Many a night, when he returned to theshed, his back was raw where the lash had cut a livid streak through histhin dhoti. His companions suffered in common with him, Fuzl Khan morethan any. For days at a time the man was incapacitated from work by thetreatment meted out to him. Desmond felt that if the Gujarati hadindeed purchased his life by betraying his comrades, he had made a dearbargain.
One night, when his eight companions were all asleep, and nothing couldbe heard but the regular calls of the sentries, the beating of tom-tomsin the town, and the howls of jackals prowling on the outskirts, Desmondgently woke the Babu.
"My friend, listen," he whispered, "I have something to say to you."
Surendra Nath turned over on his charpoy.
"Speak soft, I pray," he said.
"My head is on fire," continued Desmond. "I cannot sleep. I have beenthinking. What is life worth to us? Can anything be worse than ourpresent lot? Do you ever think of escape?"
"What good, sir? I have said so before. We are fettered; what can wedo? There is but one thing that all men in our plight desire; that isdeath."
"Nonsense! I do not desire death. This life is hateful, but while welive there is something to hope for, and I for one am not content toendure life-long misery. I mean to escape."
"It is easy to say, but the doing--that is impossible."
"How can we tell that unless we try? The men who tried to escape didnot think it impossible. They might have succeeded--who can say?--ifFuzl Khan had not betrayed them."
"And he is still with us. He would betray us again."
"I am not sure of that. See what he has suffered! To-day his whole bodymust have writhed with pain. But for the majum[#] he has smoked and theplentiful ghi[#] we rubbed him with, he would be moaning now. I thinkhe will be with us if we can only find out a way. You have been herelonger than I; cannot you help me to form a plan?"
[#] A preparation of hemp.
[#] Clarified butter.
"No, sahib; my brain is like running water. Besides, I am afraid. Ifwe could get rid of our fetters and escape, we might have to fight. Icannot fight; I am not a man of war; I am commercial."
"But you will help me if I can think of a plan?"
"I cannot persuade myself to promise, sahib. It is impossible. Deathis the only deliverer."
Desmond was impatient of the man's lack of spirit. But he suffered nosign of his feeling to escape him. He had grown to have a liking forthe Babu.
"Well, I shall not give up the idea," he said. "Perhaps I shall speakof it to you again."
Two nights later, in the dark and silent hours, Desmond reopened thematter. This time the conversation lasted much longer, and in thecourse of it the Babu became so much interested and indeed excited thathe forgot his usual caution, and spoke in a high-pitched tone that wokethe Biluchi on the other side. The man hurled abuse at the disturber ofhis repose, and Surendra Nath regained his caution and relapsed into hisusual soft murmur. Desmond and he were still talking when the light ofdawn stole into the shed; but though neither had slept, they went abouttheir work during the day with unusual briskness and lightness of heart.
That evening, after the prisoners had eaten their supper in theirrespective eating-rooms, they squatted against the outer wall of theshed for a brief rest before being locked up for the night. The Babuhad promised to tell a story. The approaches to the yard were allguarded by the usual sentries, and in the distance could be heard theclanking of the warder's keys as he went from shed to shed performinghis nightly office.
"The story! the story!" said one of the Marathas impatiently. "Why dostthou tarry, Babu?"
"I have eaten, Gousla, and when the belly is full the brain is sluggish.But the balance is adjusting itself, and in a little I will begin."
Through the further gate came the warder. Desmond and his companionswere the last with whom he had to deal. His keys jangling, he advancedslowly between two Marathas armed with matchlocks and two-edged swords.
The Babu had his back against the shed, the others were grouped abouthim, and at his left there was a vacant space. It was growing dusk.
"Hail, worthy jailer!" said Surendra Nath pleasantly. "I was about totell the marvellous story of King Bhoya's golden throne. But I willeven now check the stream at the source. Your time is precious. Mycomrades must wait until we get inside."
"Not so, Babu," said the warder gruffly. "Tell thy tale. Ba
rikAllah![#] you nine are the last of my round. I will myself wait andhear, for thou hast a ready tongue, and the learning of a pundit,[#]Babu, and thy stories, after the day's work, are they not as honeypoured on rice?"
[#] Praise to Allah!
[#] Learned man, teacher.
"You honour me beyond my deserts. If you will deign to be seated!"
The warder marched to the vacant spot at the Babu's side, and squatteddown, crossing his legs, his heavy bunch of keys lying on the skirt ofhis dhoti. The armed Marathas stood at a little distance, leaning ontheir matchlocks, within hearing of the Babu, and at spots where theycould see any one approaching from either end of the yard. It would notdo for the warder to be found thus by the officer of the watch.
"It happened during the reign of the illustrious King Bhoya," began theBabu; then he caught his breath, looking strangely nervous. "It is theheat, good jailer," he said hurriedly; "--of the illustrious King Bhoya,I said, that a poor ryot[#] named Yajnadatta, digging one day in hisfield, found there buried the divine throne of the incomparable KingVikramaditya. When his eyes were somewhat recovered from the dazzlingvision, and he could gaze unblinking at the wondrous throne, he beheldthat it was resplendent with thirty-two graven images, and adorned witha multitude of jewels: rubies and diamonds, pearls and jasper, crystaland coral and sapphires.
[#] Peasant.
"Now the news of this wondrous discovery coming to the ears of KingBhoya, he incontinently caused the throne to be conveyed to his palace,and had it set in the midst of his hall of counsel that rose on columnsof gold and silver, of coral and crystal. Then the desire came upon himto sit on this throne, and calling his wise men, he bade them choose amoment of good augury, and gave order to his servitors to make allthings ready for his coronation. Whereupon his people brought curdedmilk, sandalwood, flowers, saffron, umbrellas, parasols, diverstails--tails of oxen, tails of peacocks; arrows, weapons of war, mirrorsand other objects proper to be held by wedded women--all things, indeed,meet for a solemn festival, with a well-striped tiger-skin to representthe seven continents of the earth; nothing was wanting of all thematters prescribed in the Shastras[#] for the solemn crowning of kings;and having thus fulfilled their duty, the servitors humbly acquaintedhis majesty therewith. Then, when the Guru,[#] the Purohita,[#] theBrahmans, the wise men, the councillors, the officers, the soldiers, thechief captain, had entered, the august King Bhoya drew near to thethrone, to the end that he might be anointed.
[#] Holy Books.
[#] Religious teacher.
[#] Hereditary priest of the royal house.
"But lo! the first of the carven figures that surrounded the throne thusspake and said: 'Hearken, O king. That prince who is endowed withsovereign qualities; who shines before all others in wealth, inliberality, in mercy; who excels in heroism and in goodness; who isdrawn by his nature to deeds of piety; who is full of might and majesty;that prince alone is worthy to sit upon this throne--no other, no meanersovereign, is worthy. Hearken, O king, to the story of the throne.'"
"Go on, Babu," said the jailer, as the narrator paused; "what said thegraven image?"
"'There once lived,'" continued the Babu, "'in the city of Avanti, aking, Bartrihari by name. Having come to recognize the vanity ofearthly things, this king one day left his throne and went as a jogi[#]afar into the desert. His kingdom, being then without a head--for he hadno sons, and his younger brother, the illustrious Vikramaditya, wastravelling in far lands--fell into sore disorder, so that thieves andevil-doers increased from day to day.
[#] Ascetic.
"'The wise men in their trouble sought diligently for a child having thesigns of royalty, and in due time, having found one, Xatrya by name,they gave the kingdom into his charge. But in that land there dwelt amighty jin,[#] Vetala Agni,[#] who, when he heard of what the wise menhad done, came forth on the night of the same day the young king hadbeen enthroned and slew him and departed. And it befell that each timethe councillors found a new king, lo, the Vetala Agni came forth andslew him.
[#] Evil spirit.
[#] Spirit of fire.
"'Now upon a certain day, when the wise men, in sore trouble of heart,were met in council, there appeared among them the illustriousVikramaditya, newly returned from long travel, who, when he had heardwhat was toward, said: "O ye wise men and faithful, make me king withoutado." And the wise men, seeing that Vikramaditya was worthy of thatdignity, thus spake: "From this day, O excellency, thou art king of therealm of Avanti." Having in this fashion become king of Avanti,Vikramaditya busied himself all that day with the affairs of hiskingdom, tasting the sweets of power; and at the fall of night heprepared, against the visit of the Vetala Agni, great store of headyliquors, all kinds of meat, fish, bread, confections, rice boiled withmilk and honey, sauces, curded milk, butter refined, sandalwood,bouquets and garlands, divers sorts of sweet-scented things; and allthese he kept in his palace, and himself remained therein, reclining infull wakefulness upon his fairest bed.
"'Then into this palace came the Vetala Agni, sword in hand, and wentabout to slay the august Vikramaditya. But the king said: "Hearken, OVetala Agni; seeing that thy excellency has come for to cause me toperish, it is not doubtful that thou wilt succeed in thy purpose;albeit, all these viands thou dost here behold have been broughttogether for thy behoof; eat, then, whatsoever thou dost find worthy;afterwards thou shalt work thy will." And the Vetala Agni, having heardthese words, filled himself with this great store of food, and,marvellously content with the king, said unto him: "Truly I am content,and well-disposed towards thee, and I give thee the realm of Avanti; sitthou in the highest place and taste its joys; but take heed of onething: every day shalt thou prepare for me a repast like unto this."With these words, the Vetala Agni departed from that spot and betook himunto his own place.
"'Then for a long space did Vikramaditya diligently fulfil that command;but by and by growing aweary of feeding the Vetala Agni, he soughtcounsel of the jogi Trilokanatha, who had his dwelling on the mount ofKanahakrita. The jogi, perceiving the manifold merits of theincomparable Vikramaditya, was moved with compassion towards him, andwhen he had long meditated and recited sundry mantras,[#] he thus spakeand said: "Hearken, O king. From the sacred tank of Shakravatar springalleys four times seven, as it were branches from one trunk, to wit,seven to the north, seven to the east, seven to the west, and seven tothe south. Of the seven alleys springing to the north do thou choosethe seventh, and in the seventh alley the seventh tree from the sacredtank, and on the seventh branch of the seventh tree thou shalt find thenest of a bulbul. Within that nest thou shalt discover a golden key.'"
[#] Hymns and prayers.
The Babu was now speaking very slowly, and an observer watching Desmondwould have perceived that his eyes were fixed with a strange look ofmingled eagerness and anxiety upon the story-teller. But no oneobserved this; every man in the group was intent upon the story, hangingupon the lips of the eloquent Babu.
"'Having obtained the golden key,'" continued the narrator, "'thou shaltreturn forthwith to thy palace, and the same night, when the Vetala Agnihas eaten and drunk his fill, thou shalt in his presence lay the keyupon the palm of thy left hand, thus----'" (here the Babu quietly tookup a key hanging from the bunch attached to the warder's girdle, andlaid it upon his left palm). "'Then shalt thou say to the Vetala: "Oillustrious Vetala, tell me, I pray thee, what doth this golden keyunlock?" Then if the aspect of the Vetala be fierce, fear not, for hemust needs reply: such is the virtue of the key; and by his words thoushalt direct thy course. Verily it is for such a trial that the godshave endowed thee with wisdom beyond the common lot of men.
"'Vikramaditya performed in all points the jogi's bidding; and having inthe presence of the Vetala laid the golden key upon the palm of hishand, a voice within bade him ask the question: "O Vetala, what art thouapt to do? What knowest thou?" And the Vetala answered: "All that Ihave in my mind, that I am apt to perform. I know all things." And theking said: "Speak, then;
what is the number of my years?" And theVetala answered: "The years of thy life are a hundred." Then said theking: "I am troubled because in the tale of my years there are two gaps;grant me, then, one year in excess of a hundred, or from the hundredtake one." And the Vetala answered: "O king, thou art in the highestdegree good, liberal, merciful, just, lord of thyself, and honoured ofgods and Brahmans; the measure of the days that are ordained to fill thylife is full; to add anything thereto, to take anything therefrom, arealike impossible." Having heard these words the king was satisfied, andthe Vetala departed unto his own place.
"'Upon the night following the king prepared no feast against the comingof the Vetala, but girt himself for fight. The Vetala came, and seeingnothing in readiness for the repast, but, on the contrary, all thingsrequisite to a combat, he waxed wroth and said: "O wicked and perverseking, why hast thou made ready nothing for my pleasure this night?" Andthe king answered: "Since thou canst neither add to my length of years,nor take anything therefrom, why should I make ready a repast for theecontinually and without profit?" The Vetala made answer: "Ho!--'tisthus that thou speakest! Now, truly, come fight with me; this night willI devour thee."
"'At these words the king rose up in wrath to smite the Vetala, and heldhim in swift and dexterous combat for a brief space. And the Vetala,having thus made proof of the might and heroism of the king, and beingsatisfied, spake and said: "O king, thou art mighty indeed; I am contentwith thy valour; now, then, ask me what thou wilt." And the kinganswered: "Seeing that thou art well-disposed towards me, grant me thisgrace, that when I shall call thee, thou wilt in that same instant standat my side." And the Vetala, having granted this grace to the king,departed unto his own place.'"
The Babu waved his hands as a sign that the story was ended. He wasdamp with perspiration, and in his glance at Desmond there was a kind offurtive appeal for approval.
"Thou speakest well, Babu," said the warder. "But what befell KingBhoya when the graven image had thus ended his saying?"
"That, good jailer, is another story, and if you please to hear itanother night I will do my poor best to satisfy you."
"Well, the hour is late." The warder rose to his feet and resumed hisofficial gruffness. "Come, rise; it is time I locked your fetters; and,in good sooth, mine is no golden key."
He chuckled as he watched the prisoners file one by one into the shed.Following them, he quickly locked each in turn to his staple in the walland went out, bolting and double locking the door behind him.
"You did well, my friend," whispered Desmond in English to the Babu.
"My heart flutters like the wings of a bulbul," answered the Babu; "butI am content, sahib."
"But say, Surendra Nath," remarked one of the Maratha captives, "lasttime you told us that story you said nothing of the golden key."
"Ah!" replied the Babu, "you are thinking of the story told by thesecond graven image in King Vikramaditya's throne. I will tell you thatto-morrow."