CHAPTER XXIV
NEWS FROM AJMERE
Something of this pilgrimage Ralston understood; and what he understoodhe explained to Dick Linforth on the top of the tower at Peshawur.Linforth, however, was still perplexed, still unconvinced.
"I can't believe it," he cried; "I know Shere Ali so well."
Ralston shook his head.
"England overlaid the real man with a pretty varnish," he said. "That'sall it ever does. And the varnish peels off easily when the man comesback to an Indian sun. There's not one of these people from the hills buthas in him the makings of a fanatic. It's a question of circumstanceswhether the fanaticism comes to the top or not. Given the circumstances,neither Eton, nor Oxford, nor all the schools and universities rolledinto one would hinder the relapse."
"But why?" exclaimed Linforth. "Why should Shere Ali have relapsed?"
"Disappointment here, flattery in England--there are many reasons.Usually there's a particular reason."
"And what is that?" asked Linforth.
"The love of a white woman."
Ralston was aware that Linforth at his side started. He started ever soslightly. But Ralston was on the alert. He made no sign, however, that hehad noticed anything.
"I know that reason held good in Shere Ali's case," Ralston went on;and there came a change in Linforth's voice. It grew rather stern,rather abrupt.
"Why? Has he talked?"
"Not that I know of. Nevertheless, I am sure that there was one whoplayed a part in Shere Ali's life," said Ralston. "I have known it eversince I first met him--more than a year ago on his way northwards toChiltistan. He stopped for a day at Lahore and rode out with me. I toldhim that the Government expected him to marry as soon as possible, andsettle down in his own country. I gave him that advice deliberately. Yousee I wanted to find out. And I did find out. His consternation, hisanger, answered me clearly enough. I have no doubt that there was someoneover there in England--a woman, perhaps an innocent woman, who had beenmerely careless--perhaps--"
But he did not finish the sentence. Linforth interrupted him before hehad time to complete it. And he interrupted without flurry or any sign ofagitation.
"There was a woman," he said. "But I don't think she was thoughtless.I don't see how she could have known that there was any danger in herfriendliness. For she was merely friendly to Shere Ali. I know hermyself."
The answer was given frankly and simply. For once Ralston was outwitted.Dick Linforth had Violet Oliver to defend, and the defence was well done.Ralston was left without a suspicion that Linforth had any reason beyondthe mere truth of the facts to spur him to defend her.
"Yes, that's the mistake," said Ralston. "The woman's friendly and meansno more than she says or looks. But these fellows don't understand suchfriendship. Shere Ali is here dreaming of a woman he knows he can nevermarry--because of his race. And so he's ready to run amuck. That's whatit comes to."
He turned away from the city as he spoke and took a step or two towardsthe flight of stone stairs which led down from the tower.
"Where is Shere Ali now?" Linforth asked, and Ralston stopped and cameback again.
"I don't know," he said. "But I shall know, and very soon. There may be aletter waiting for me at home. You see, when there's trouble brewing overthere behind the hills, and I want to discover to what height it hasgrown and how high it's likely to grow, I select one of my police, aPathan, of course, and I send him to find out."
"You send him over the Malakand," said Linforth, with a glancetowards the great hill-barrier. He was to be astonished by the answerRalston gave.
"No. On the contrary, I send him south. I send him to Ajmere, inRajputana."
"In Ajmere?" cried Linforth.
"Yes. There is a great Mohammedan shrine. Pilgrims go there from allparts, but mostly from beyond the frontier. I get my fingers on the pulseof the frontier in Ajmere more surely than I should if I sent spies upinto the hills. I have a man there now. But that's not all. There's agreat feast in Ajmere this week. And I think I shall find out from therewhere Shere Ali is and what he's doing. As soon as I do find out, I wantyou to go to him."
"I understand," said Linforth. "But if he has changed so much, he willhave changed to me."
"Yes," Ralston admitted. He turned again towards the steps, and the twomen descended to their horses. "That's likely enough. They ought to havesent you to me six months ago. Anyway, you must do your best." He climbedinto the saddle, and Linforth did the same.
"Very well," said Dick, as they rode through the archway. "I will do mybest," and he turned towards Ralston with a smile. "I'll do my best tohinder the Road from going on."
It was a queer piece of irony that the first real demand made upon him inhis life was that he should stop the very thing on the accomplishment ofwhich his hopes were set. But there was his friend to save. He comfortedhimself with that thought. There was his friend rushing blindly uponruin. Linforth could not doubt it. How in the world could Shere Ali, hewondered. He could not yet dissociate the Shere Ali of to-day from theboy and the youth who had been his chum.
They passed out of the further gate of Peshawur and rode along the broadwhite road towards Government House. It was growing dark, and as theyturned in at the gateway of the garden, lights shone in the windows aheadof them. The lights recalled to Ralston's mind a fact which he hadforgotten to mention.
"By the way," he said, turning towards Linforth, "we have a lady stayingwith us who knows you."
Linforth leaned forward in his saddle and stooped as if to adjust astirrup, and it was thus a second or two before he answered.
"Indeed!" he said. "Who is she?"
"A Mrs. Oliver," replied Ralston, "She was at Srinagar in Cashmere thissummer, staying with the Resident. My sister met her there, I think shetold Mrs. Oliver you were likely to come to us about this time."
Dick's heart leaped within him suddenly. Had Violet Oliver arranged hervisit so that it might coincide with his? It was at all events a pleasantfancy to play with. He looked up at the windows of the house. She wasreally there! After all these months he would see her. No wonder thewindows were bright. As they rode up to the porch and the door wasopened, he heard her voice. She was singing in the drawing-room, and thedoor of the drawing-room stood open. She sang in a low small voice, verypretty to the ear, and she was accompanying herself softly on the piano.Dick stood for a while listening in the lofty hall, while Ralston lookedover his letters which were lying upon a small table. He opened one ofthem and uttered an exclamation.
"This is from my man at Ajmere," he said, but Dick paid no attention.Ralston glanced through the letter.
"He has found him," he cried. "Shere Ali is in Ajmere."
It took a moment or two for the words to penetrate to Linforth's mind.Then he said slowly:
"Oh! Shere Ali's in Ajmere. I must start for Ajmere to-morrow."
Ralston looked up from his letters and glanced at Linforth. Something inthe abstracted way in which Linforth had spoken attracted his attention.He smiled:
"Yes, it's a pity," he said. But again it seemed that Linforth did nothear. And then the voice at the piano stopped abruptly as though thesinger had just become aware that there were people talking in the hall.Linforth moved forward, and in the doorway of the drawing-room he cameface to face with Violet Oliver. Ralston smiled again.
"There's something between those two," he said to himself. But Linforthhad kept his secrets better half an hour ago. For it did not occur toRalston to suspect that there had been something also between VioletOliver and Shere Ali.