CHAPTER XIV
OVER THE WATER
Ram Nath, patient and impassive as ever, had the tonga waiting forAmber before the Residency. Exalted beyond words, the Americanpermitted himself to be driven off through Kuttarpur's intricatenetwork of streets and backways, toward a destination of which he knewas little as he cared. He was a guest of the State, officiallydomiciled at the designated house of hospitality; without especialpermission, obtained through the efforts of the Resident, he couldsleep in no other spot in the city or its purlieus. He was indifferent,absolutely; the matter interested him as scantily--which is to say notat all--as did the fact that an escort of troopers of the State, verywell accoutred and disciplined, followed the tonga with a greatjangling of steel and tumult of hoofs.
He was in that condition of semi-daze which is the not extraordinaryportion of a declared lover revelling in the memory of his mistress'seyes, whose parting look has not been unkind. Upon that glance ofsecret understanding, signalled to him from eyes as brown as beautiful,he was building him a palace of dreams so strange, so sweet, that themere contemplation of its unsubstantial loveliness filled him with anexquisite agony of hope, a poignant ecstasy of despair. It was too muchto hope for, that she should smile upon him in the morning.... Yet hehoped.
Unconscious of the passage of time, he was roused only by the pausingof the tonga and its escort before the Gateway of the Elephants--themain octroi gate in the northern wall of the city. There ensued a briefinterchange of formalities between the sergeant of his escort and thecaptain of the Quarter Guard. Then the tonga was permitted to pass out,and for five minutes rattled and clattered along the border of thelake, stopping finally at the rest-house.
Alighting in the compound, Amber disbursed a few rupees to thetroopers, paid off Ram Nath--who was swift to drive off city-wards, inmad haste lest the gates be shut upon him for the night--and enteredthe bungalow. An aged, talkative, and amiable khansamah met him at thethreshold with expressions of exaggerated respect, no doubt genuineenough, and followed him, a mumbling shadow, as the Virginian made abrief round of inspection.
Standing between the road and the water, the rest-house proved to bemoderately spacious and clean; on the lake-front it opened upon amarble bund, or landing-stage, its lip lapped by whispering ripples ofthe lake. Amber went out upon this to discover, separated from him bylittle more than half a mile of black water, the ghostly white walls ofthe Raj Mahal climbing in dim majesty to the stars. A single line ofwhite lights outlined the topmost parapet; at the water's edge a singlemarble entrance was aglow; between the two, towers and terraces,hanging gardens and white scarp-like walls rose in darkened confusionunimaginable--or, rather, fell like a cascade of architecture, down thehillside to the lake. A dark hive teeming with the occult life ofunnumbered men and women--Salig Singh the inscrutable and strong,Naraini the mysterious, whose loveliness lived a fable in the land, andhow many thousand others--living and dying, working and idling, in joyand sadness, in hatred and love, weaving forever that myriad-strandedweb of intrigue which is the life of native palaces ...
The Virginian remained long in rapt wondering contemplation of it,until the wind blowing across the waters had chilled him to the pointof shivering; when he turned indoors to his bed. But he was to havelittle rest that night. The khansamah who attended him had hardlyturned low his light when Amber was disturbed by the noise of an angryaltercation in the compound. He arose and in dressing-gown and slipperswent to investigate, and found Ram Nath in violent dispute with thesergeant of the escort--which, it appeared, had builded a fire andcamped round it in the compound: a circumstance which furnished foodfor thought.
Amber began to suspect that the troops had been furnished as a guardless of honour than of espionage, less in formal courtesy than indemonstration of the unsleeping vigilance of the Eye--kindly assistedby the Maharana of Khandawar.
A man who, warmed by the ardour of his first love, feels suddenly theshadow of death falling cold upon him, is apt to neglect nothing. Amberconsidered that he had given Ram Nath no commission of any sort, andbent an attentive ear to the communication which the tonga-wallahinsisted upon making to him.
Ram Nath had returned, he asserted, solely for the purpose of informingAmber in accordance with his desires. "The telegraph-office for whichyou enquired, sahib, stands just within the Gateway of the Elephants,"he announced. "The telegraph-babu will be on duty very early in themorning, should you desire still to send the message."
"Oh, yes," said Amber indifferently. "I'd forgotten. Thanks."
He returned to his charpoy with spirits considerably higher. Ram Nathhad not winked this time, but the fact was indisputable that Amber had_not_ expressed any interest whatever in the location of thetelegraph-office.
Wondering if the telegraph-babu by any chance wore pink satin, he dozedoff on the decision that he would need to send a message the firstthing in the morning.
Some time later he was a second time awakened by further disputation inthe compound. The troopers were squabbling amongst themselves; he wasable to make this much out in spite of the fact that the sepoys,recruited exclusively from the native population of Khandawar, spoke apatois of Hindi so corrupt that even an expert in Oriental languageswould experience difficulty in trying to interpret it. Amber did notweary himself with the task, but presently lifted up his voice anddemanded silence, desiring to be informed if his sleep was to becontinually broken by the bickerings of sons of mothers without noses.There followed instantaneous silence, broken by a chuckle and anapplausive "Shabash!" and nothing more.
Amber snuggled down again upon his pillow and soothed himself with thefeel of the pistol that his fingers grasped beneath the clothes.
A bar of moonlight slipped through the blinds and fell athwart hiseyes. He cursed it bitterly and got up and moved his charpoy intoshadow. The sibilant lisping of the wavelets against the bund sang himsoftly toward oblivion ... and a convention of water-fowl went intostormy executive session out in the middle of the lake. This had to beendured, and in time Amber's senses grew numb to the racket and hedropped off into a fitful doze....
Footfalls and hushed voices in the bungalow were responsible for thenext interruption. Amber came to with a start and found himself sittingup on the edge of the charpoy, with a dreamy impression that two peoplehad been standing over him and had just left the room, escaping by wayof the khansamah's quarters. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wentout to remonstrate vigorously with the khansamah. The latter naturallyprofessed complete ignorance of the visitation and dwelt with suchinsistence upon the plausibility of dreams that Amber lost patience andkicked him grievously, so that he complained with a loud voice and casthimself at the sahib's feet, declaring that he was but as the dustbeneath them and that Amber was his father and mother and the light ofthe Universe besides. In short, he raised such a rumpus that some ofthe sepoys came in to investigate and--went out again, hastily, totestify to their fellows that the hazoor was a man of fluent wrath,surprisingly versed in the art and practice of abuse.
Somewhat mollified and reflecting, at the same time, that this was allbut a part of the game, to be expected by those who patroniserest-houses off the beaten roads of travel, the Virginian returned tohis charpoy and immediately lapsed into a singularly disquietingdream.... He was strolling by the border of the lake when a coot swamin and hailed him in English; and when he stopped to look the cootlifted an A.D.T. messenger-boy's cap and pleaded with him to sign hisname in a little black book, promising that, if he did so, it would befree to doff its disguise and be Labertouche again. So Amber signed"Pink Satin" in the book and the coot stood up and said, "I'm notLabertouche at all, but Ram Nath, and Ram Nath is only another name forHar Dyal Rutton, and besides you had better come away at once, for theEye thou dost wear upon thy finger never sleeps and it's only a pasteToken anyway." Hearing which, Amber caught the coot by the leg andfound that he had grasped the arm of Salig Singh, whose eyes were bothmonstrous emeralds without any whites whatever. And Salig Singh t
appedhim on the shoulder and began to say over and over again in a whisper...
But here Amber another time found himself wide awake and sitting up,his left hand gripping the wrist of a native and his right holding hispistol steadily levelled at the native's breast. While the voice heheard was real and no figment of a dream-mused imagination; for the manwas whispering earnestly and repeatedly:
"_Hasten, hazoor, for the night doth wane and the hour is at hand_."
"What deviltry's this?" Amber demanded sharply, with a threateninggesture.
But the native neither attempted to free himself nor to evade thepistol's mouth. "Have patience, hazoor," he begged earnestly, "and makeno disturbance. It is late and the sepoys sleep; if you will becircumspect and are not afraid--"
"Who are you?"
"I was to say, '_I come from you know whom_,' hazoor."
"That all?"
"In the matter of a certain photograph, hazoor."
"By thunder!" Labertouche's name was on Amber's lips, but he repressedit. "Wait a bit." He gulped down the last dregs of sleep. "Let me thinkand--see."
This last was an afterthought. As it came to him he dropped the pistolby his side and felt for matches in the pocket of his coat, which hungover the back of a bedside chair. Finding one, he struck it noiselesslyand, as the tiny flame broadened, drew his captive nearer.
It was a fat, mean, wicked face that stood out against the darkness: anochre-tinted face with a wide, loose-lipped mouth and protruding eyesthat blinked nervously into his. But he had never seen it before.
"Who are you?" He cast away the match as its flame died and snatched uphis weapon.
"I was to say--"
"I heard that once. What's your name?"
"Dulla Dad, hazoor."
"And who are you from?"
"Hazoor, I was not to say."
"I think you'd better," suggested Amber, with grim significance.
"I am the hazoor's slave. I dare not say."
"Now look here--"
"Hazoor, it was charged upon me to say, _'I come from you know whom.'_"
"The devil it was.... Well, what do you want?"
"I was to say, '_Hasten, hazoor, for the night--_"
"I've heard that, too. You mean you're to lead me to somebody,somewhere--you can't say where?"
"Aye, hazoor, even so."
"Get over there, in the corner, while I think this over--and don't moveor I'll make you a present of a nice young bullet, Dulla Dad."
"That is as Allah wills; only remember, hazoor, the injunction forhaste."
The man, a small stunted Mohammedan, sidled fearsomely over to the spotindicated and waited there, cringing and supplicating Amber witheloquent gestures. The Virginian watched him closely until comforted bythe reflection that, had murder been the object, he had been a dead manlong since. Then he put aside the revolver and began to dress.
"Only Labertouche would have to communicate with me by such stealth,"he considered. "Besides, that reference to the photograph--"
He slipped hurriedly into his clothing and ostentatiously dropped thepistol into his right-hand coat-pocket. "I'm ready," he told the man."Lead the way; and remember, if there's any treachery afoot, you'll bethe first to suffer for it, Dulla Dad."
The Mohammedan bowed submissively. "Be it so, my lord," he said inHindi, and, moving noiselessly with unshod feet, glided through thedoor which opened upon the bund, Amber close behind him.
That it was indeed late was shown by the position of the moon; and thesweet freshness of early morning was strong in the keen air. The windhad failed and the lake stretched flawless from shore to shore, a sheetof untarnished silver. Over against them the palace slept, or seemed tosleep, in its miraculous beauty, glacier-like with its shining surfacesand deep, purple-shadowed crevasses. There were few lights visible inthe city, and the quiet of it was notable; so likewise with the wardsoutside the walls and the lakeside palaces and villas. Only in adistant temple a drum was throbbing, throbbing.
In the water at their feet a light boat was gently nosing the marblebund. Dulla Dad, squatting, drew it broadside to the steps and motionedAmber to enter. The Virginian boarded it gingerly, seating himself atthe stern. Dulla Dad dropped in forward and pushed off. The boat movedout upon the bosom of the lake with scarce a sound, and the native,grasping a double-bladed paddle, dipped it gently and sent the frailcraft flying onward with long, swift, and powerful strokes, guiding itdirectly toward the walls of the Raj Mahal.
Two-thirds of the way across the Virginian surrendered to his mistrustand drew his pistol. "Dulla Dad," he said gently; and the man ceasedpaddling with a shudder--"Dulla Dad, you're taking me to the palace."
"Yea, hazoor; that is true," the native answered, his voice quavering.
"Who awaits me there? Answer quickly!"
"Hazoor, it is not wise to speak a name upon the water, where voicestravel far."
"Dulla Dad!"
"Hazoor, I may not say!"
"I think, Dulla Dad, you'd better. If I lose patience--"
"Upon my head be your safety, hazoor! See, you can fire, and thereafternaught can trouble me. But I, with a single sweep of this paddle, canoverturn us. Be content, hazoor, for a little time; then shall you seethat naught of harm is intended. My life be forfeit if I speak nottruth, hazoor!"
"You have said it," said Amber grimly, "Row on." After all, heconsidered, it might still be Labertouche. At first blush it had seemedhardly credible that the Englishman could have gained a footing in thatvast pile; and yet, it would be like him to seek precisely such aspot--the very heart of the conspiracy of the Gateway, if they guessedaright.
The boat surged swiftly on, while again and again Amber's fingertrembled on the trigger. Though already the white gleaming wallstowered above him, it was not yet too late--not too late; but should hewithdraw, force Dulla Dad to return, he might miss ... what? He didnothing save resign himself to the issue. As they drew nearer themoonlit walls he looked in vain for sign of a landing-stage, andwondered, the lighted bund that he had seen from over the water beinginvisible to him round an angle of the building. But Dulla Dad held onwithout a pause until the moment when it seemed that he intended todash the boat bows first against the stone; then, with a final dextroustwist of the paddle, he swung at a sharp angle and simultaneouslychecked the speed. Under scant momentum they slid from moonlight andthe clean air of night into a close well between two walls, and thensuddenly beneath an arch and into a cavernous chamber filled with thesoft murmuring of water--and with darkness.
Here the air was sluggish and heavy and dank with the odour of slime.Breathing it, seeing nothing save the spectral gleam of moonlightreflected inwards, hearing nothing save the uncanny lapping and purringof the ripples, it was not easy to forget the tales men told of palacecorruption and crime--of lovers who had stolen thus secretly to meettheir mistresses, and who had met, instead, Death; of assassins who hadskulked by such stealthy ways to earn blood-money; of spies, of atreacherous legion who had gained entry to the palace by such ways asthis--perhaps had accomplished their intent and returned to tell thetale, perhaps had been found in the dawn-light, floating out there onthe lake with drawn, wan faces upturned to the pallid skies....
"Hazoor!"
It was Dulla Dad's voice, sleek with fawning. For all the repulsivenessof the accents, Amber was not sorry to hear them. At least the nativewas human and ... this experience wasn't, hardly.... He leaned towardthe man, eyes aching with the futile strain of striving to penetratethe blackness. He could see nothing more definite than shadows. Theboat was resting motionless on the tide, as if suspended in an abyss ofnight, fathomless and empty.
"Well, what now?" he demanded harshly. "Be careful, Dulla Dad!"
"Still my lord distrusts me? There is naught to fear, none here to lifthand against you. Your servant lives but to serve you in all loyalty."
"Indeed?"
"My lord may trust me."
"It seems to me I have--too far."
"My lord will
not forget?"
"Be sure of that, Dulla Dad.... Well, what are you waiting for?"
"We are arrived, hazoor," said the native calmly. "If you will bepleased to step ashore, having care lest you overturn the boat, thesteps are on your left."
"Where?... Oh!" Amber's tentative hand, groping in obscurity, fell upona slab of stone, smooth and slippery, but solid. "You mean here?"
"Aye, hazoor."
"And what next?"
"I am to wait to conduct you back to your place of rest."
"Um-m. You are, eh?" Amber, doubtful, tried the stone again; it wassubstantial enough; only the boat rocked. He struck a match; theshort-lived flame afforded him a feeble, unsatisfactory impression of along, narrow, vaulted chamber, whereof the floor was half water, halfstone. There was a landing to the left, a rather narrow ledge, with alow, heavy door, bossed with iron, in the wall beyond.
Shaking his head, he lifted himself cautiously out of the boat. "Youstay right there, Dulla Dad," he warned the native, "until I see whathappens. If I catch you trying to get away--the boat'll show up nicelyagainst the opening, you know--I'll give you cause for repentance."
"I am here, hazoor. Turn you and knock upon the door thus"--rapping thegunwale of the boat--"thrice."
Amber obeyed, wrought up now to so high a pitch of excitement andsuspense that he could hardly have withdrawn had he wished to and beenable to force Dulla Dad to heed him. As he knuckled the third signal,the door swung slowly inward, disclosing, in a dim glow of light, stonewalls--a bare stone chamber illumined by a single iron lamp hanging inchains from the ceiling. Across the room a dark entry opened upon apassageway equally dark.
By the door a servant stood, his attitude deferential. As theVirginian's gaze fell upon him he salaamed respectfully.
Amber entered, his eyes quick, his right hand in his pocket andgrateful for the cold caress of nickelled steel, his body poisedlightly and tensely upon the balls of his feet--in a word, ready.Prepared against the worst he was hopeful of the best: apprehensive, hereminded himself that he had first met Labertouche under auspiceshardly more prepossessing than these.
The clang of the door closing behind him rang hollowly in thestillness. The warder moved past him to the entrance of the corridor.Amber held him with a sharp question.
"Am I to wait here?"
"For a moment, Heaven-born!" He disappeared.
Without a sound a door at Amber's elbow that had escaped his cursorynotice, so cunningly was it fitted in the wall, swung open, and aremembered voice boomed in his ears, not without a certain sardonicinflection: "Welcome, my lord, welcome to Khandawar!"
Amber swung upon the speaker with a snarl. "Salig Singh!"
"Thy steward bids thee welcome to thy kingdom, hazoor!"
Dominating the scene with his imposing presence--a figure regal in theregimentals of his native army--the Rajput humbled himself before theVirginian, dropping to his knee and offering his jewelled sword-hilt intoken of his fealty.
"Oh, get up!" snapped Amber impatiently. "I'm sick of all this damnedtomfoolery. Get up, d'you hear?--unless you want me to take that prettysword of yours and spank you with it!"
A quiver, as of self-repression, moved the body of the man at his feet;then, with a jangle of spurs, Salig Singh leaped up and stood at adistance of two paces, his head high, his black eyes glitteringominously with well-nigh the sinister brilliance of his vibratingemerald aigrette.
"My lord!" he cried angrily. "Are these words to use to one who offersthee his heart and hand? Is this insolence to be suffered by a Rajput,a son of Kings?"
"As for that," returned Amber steadily, giving him look for look, "yourgrandfather was a _bunia_ and you know it. Whether or not you're goingto 'suffer' what you call my insolence, I don't know, and I don't muchcare. You've made a fool of me twice, now, and I'm tired of it. I giveyou my word I don't understand why I don't shoot you down here and now,for I believe in my heart you're the unholiest scoundrel unhung. Isthat language plain enough for you?"
For an instant longer they faced one another offensively, Amber coolenough outwardly and inwardly boiling with rage that he should havewalked into the trap with his eyes open, Salig Singh trembling withresentment but holding himself in with splendid restraint.
"As for me," continued Amber, "I suspect I'm the most hopeless ass inthe three Presidencies, if that's any comfort to you, Salig Singh. Nowwhat d'you want with me?"
A shadowy smile softened the blackness of the Rajput's wrath. Heshrugged and moved his hands slightly, exposing their palms, subtlysignifying his submission.
"Thou art my overlord," he said quietly, with a silky deference. "Intime thou wilt see how thou hast wronged me. For the present, I remainthy servant. I harbour no resentment, I owe thee naught but loyalty. Iawait thy commands."
"The dickens you do!" Amber whistled inaudibly, his eyes narrowing ashe pondered the man. "You protest a lot, Salig Singh. If you're so muchat my service ... why, prove it."
By way of reply Salig Singh lifted his sword in its scabbard from itsfastenings at his side and, with a magnificent gesture, cast itclanking to the floor between them. A heavy English army-patternrevolver followed it. The Rajput spread out his hands. "Thou art armed,my lord," he said, "I, at thy mercy. If thou dost misjudge my purposein causing thee to be brought hither, my life is in thy hands."
"Oh, yes." Amber nodded. "That's very pretty. But presuming I chose totake it?"
"Thou art free as the winds of the morning. See, then." Salig Singhstrode to the outer door and threw it open. "The way of escape isclear--not even locked."
The lamplight fell across the stone landing and made visible thewaiting boat with Dulla Dad sitting patiently at the oar.
"I see," assented Amber. "Well?"
Salig Singh shut the door gently. "Is there more to say?" he enquired."I have shown thee that thou art free."
"Oh, so far as that goes, you've demonstrated pretty clearly thatyou're not afraid of me. Of course I know as well as you do that at thefirst shot Dulla Dad would slip out to the lake and leave me here todie like a rat in a corner."
"Thou knowest, lord, that no man in Khandawar would do thee any hurt.Thy person is sacred--"
"That's all bosh. You don't expect me to believe that you still stickto that absurd fiction of yours--that I'm Rutton?"
"Then mine eyes have played me false, hazoor. Shabash!" Salig Singhbowed resignedly.
"Well, then, what do you want? Why have you brought me here?"
"Why didst thou come? There was no force used: thou didst come of thineown will--thine own will, which is the will of the Body, hazoor!"
"Oh, damnation! Why d'you insist on beating round the bush forever? Youknow well why I came. Now, what do you want?"
"My lord, I move, it seems, in the ways of error. A little time ago thewords of the Voice were made known to thee in a far land; thou didstanswer, coming to this country. A few days agone I myself did repeat toyou the message of the Bell; thou didst swear thou wouldst not answer,yet art thou here in Kuttarpur. Am I to be blamed for taking this for asign of thy repentance?... Hazoor, the Body is patient, the Willbenignant and long-suffering. Still is the Gateway open."
"Is that what you wanted to tell me, Salig Singh?"
"What else? Am I to believe thee a madman, weary of life, that thoushouldst venture hither with a heart hardened against the Will of theBody? I seek but to serve thee in thus daring thy displeasure. Whyshouldst thou come to Bharuta [Footnote: India.] at all if thou dostnot intend to undergo the Ordeal of the Gateway? Am I a fool or--I sayit in all respect, my lord--art thou?"
"From the look of things, I fancy the epithet fits us both, SaligSingh. You refuse to take my word for it that I know nothing of yourinfamous Gateway and have no intention of ever approaching it, that Ihave not a drop of Indian blood in me and am in no way related to orconnected with Har Dyal Rutton, who is dead--"
"I may not believe what I know to be untrue."
"You'll have to learn to recognise the tr
uth, I'm afraid. For the finaltime I tell you that I am David Amber, a citizen of the United Statesof America, travelling in India on purely personal business."
The Rajput inclined his head submissively. "Then is my duty all butdone, hazoor. Thrice hath the warning been given thee. There be stillfour-and-twenty hours in which, it may be, thou shalt learn to seeclearly. My lord, I ask of thee a single favour. Wilt thou follow me?"He motioned toward the arched entrance to the passageway.
"Follow thee?" Amber at length dropped into Urdu, unconsciouslyadopting the easier form of communication now that, he felt, the issuebetween them was plain, that the Rajput laboured under no furthermisunderstanding as to the reason of his presence in Khandawar."Whither?"
"There is that which I must show thee."
"What?"
"My life be forfeit if thou dost not return unharmed to the rest-houseere sunrise. Wilt thou come?"
"To what end, Salig Singh?"
"Furthermore," the Rajput persisted stubbornly, his head lifted inpride and his nostrils dilated a little with scorn--"furthermore Ioffer thee the word of a Rajput. Thou are my guest, since thou wilthave it so. No harm shall come to thee, upon my honour."
Curiosity triumphed. Amber knew that he had exacted the most honouredpledge known in Rajputana. His apprehensions were at rest; nothingcould touch him now--_until_ he had returned to the bungalow. Then, hedivined, it was to be open war--himself and Labertouche pitted againstthe strength of the greatest conspiracy known in India since the daysof '57. But for the present, no pledge of any sort had been exacted ofhim.
"So be it," he assented on impulse. "I follow."
With no other word Salig Singh turned and strode down the corridor.