CHAPTER XXI
THE FINAL INCARNATION
About five o'clock of an evening in April the Cunarder _Caronia_, fourhours out from Queenstown and buckling down to a night's hard workagainst the northwesterly gale, shipped a sea. It was not much of asea--merely a playful slap of a wave that broke against the staunchblack side and glanced upward in a shower of spray, spatteringliberally a solitary passenger who had been showing enough interest inthe weather to remain on deck until that particular moment. Apparentlyundisconcerted by the misadventure, he shook himself and laughed asober, contented laugh, found a handkerchief and mopped his face withit, then, with a final approving survey of the lowering and belligerentcanopy of wind-cloud that overhung the tortured ocean, permittedhimself to be blown aft to the door of the first-cabin smoking-room.Opening this by main strength, he entered. The gale saved him thebother of closing it.
Removing his rain-coat and cap and depositing them on a convenientchair, he glanced round the room and discovered that he shared it witha single passenger, who was placidly exhausting the virtues of anexcellent cigarette. Upon this gentleman the newcomer bent a regardsteadfast and questioning, but after returning it casually the smokerpaid him no further attention. Dissatisfied, the other moved towardhim, and the deck slanted suddenly and obligingly the better toaccelerate his progress, so that he brought up with a lurch in the seatnext the smoker. The latter raised the eyebrows of surprise and hopedthat the gentleman had not hurt himself.
"I didn't, thank you, Mr. David Amber."
Mr. David Amber looked the gentleman over with heightened interest. Hesaw a man of medium height, with a sturdy figure that bore withoutapparent fatigue the years that go with slightly greyish hair. He wasquietly dressed and had intelligent eyes, but was altogetherunimpressive of manner, save for a certain vague air of reserve thatassorted quaintly with his present attitude.
"You've the advantage of me, sir," Amber summed up the result of hisscrutiny.
"It's not the first time," asserted the other, with an argumentativeshake of his head. "No-o?" Light leaped in Amber's eyes. "Labertouche!"
"Surprised you, eh?" The Englishman grinned with pleasure, pumpingAmber's arm cordially. "I don't mind owning that I meant to."
"Well, considering that this is positively your first appearance asyourself on the stage of my life, you don't deserve any credit forbeing able to deceive me. When one gets accustomed to remembering youonly as a native--generally as a babu in dirty pink satin--...Do youknow, I made all sorts of enquiries after you, but they told me, inresponse to my wires to Calcutta, that you'd dropped out of the worldentirely. I had begun to fear that those damned natives must have gotyou, after all, and that I'd never see you again."
"I'd almost given up hope of ever seeing myself again," saidLabertouche drily.
"But why didn't you--?"
"Business, dear boy, business.... I was needed for several days in theneighbourhood of Kathiapur."
"It seems as though I'd waited several years for news of Kathiapur. Thepapers--"
"There are a good many things that happen in India that fail to getinto the newspapers, Amber. It wasn't thought necessary to advise theworld, including Russia, that half the native potentates in Hindustanhad been caught in the act of letting the Second Mutiny loose uponIndia." A network of fine wrinkles appeared about his eyes as he smiledenjoyment of what he seemed to consider a memorable joke.
"Go on," pleaded Amber.
"Kathiapur was a sort of mousetrap; the brutes came out by twos andthree, just as I said they would, for the better part of three days. Itwas either surrender or starve with them, and after five-sixths of themhad elected not to starve we turned a couple of companies of Tommiesinto the place, and I don't believe they left unturned a stone bigenough to hide a rabbit. One by one they routed 'em out and booted 'emdown to us. Meanwhile we had rushed enough troops to Kuttarpur to keeptheir tails quiet."
"And Salig Singh--and Naraini?"
"Salig Singh, it turned out, was the chap that got bayoneted in thetamarisks. Naraini managed somehow to steal away the next night, underthe noses of any number of sentries; beauty such as hers would bribeher way out of hell, I think. What became of her I don't know, but Ican prophesy that she won't live long. She was rather too advanced inher views, for India--some centuries ahead of her race. She and SaligSingh had it all planned, you know; his was the master-mind, hers themotive-power. They were to crown you, instead of Salig's son, the nextday--in the name of Har Dyal Rutton; and then you were to die suddenlyby virtue of hemp poison or some other contagious disease, and Saligwas to step into your shoes as Emperor of Hindustan, with Naraini ashis Empress.... She should have stayed home and been a suffragette."
"Better for her," said Amber. "Of course I've found out about her, fromFarrell. It seems that she was brought up in England, with Sophia, andalways given to believe she was his own daughter, but she was a wildthing and hard to handle. One day she found out about herparentage--how, it's not known, but Farrell suspects that the men whowere hounding Rutton got into communication with her. At all events,she brooded over the thing, and when, five years or so ago, Mrs.Farrell died and the Colonel sent for Sophia to join him in India,Naraini--well, she rebelled. He refused to let her leave England, andshe finally took the bit in her teeth and ran away--vanished and wasnever heard of again until Sophia recognised her in Kathiapur."
"I myself can fill in the gap," Labertouche volunteered. "She joinedsome of Salig's underlings in Paris and went thence direct toKhandawar, assuming the name of one of the old queens who had electedopportunely to die.... Queer case--singular instance of reversion totype."
"A mighty distressing one to the old colonel; you know Rutton keptreligiously to his promise not to see the child after he'd given herinto Farrell's care. Farrell lost all track of him and was unable tocommunicate with him, of course, when Naraini chose to strike out forherself.... One thing has always puzzled me; the girl called me by herfather's name, pretending to recognise me as her husband; you can'treconcile such conduct."
"You can, easily enough--beg pardon, my dear fellow. Neither she norSalig Singh was for an instant deceived. But Salig _had_ to deliver up_a_ Har Dyal Rutton to the Council, so Naraini was set to seduce you.Their plans only required that you should be madly infatuated with herfor a couple of days; after that ..." Labertouche turned down his thumbsignificantly. "I fancy there must have been a family secret ortradition, handed down from father to son in the Rutton line, that someday one of the family would be called upon to raise the standard of theSecond Mutiny. That will explain why Har Dyal Rutton, a gentleman ofparts and cultivation, dared not live in India, and why--because he wassworn to keep the secret--he laid stress on the condition that you werenot to mention his name."
"Still, he gave me permission to talk to Dhola Baksh."
"True; but it seems that Dhola Baksh had been his confidentialbody-servant in Kuttarpur, during his too-brief reign. Rutton thoughthe would be able to help you, and knew that he would be loyal to hismaster's memory."
"Finally, what about that photograph?"
"You've Salig Singh to thank for its return, I fancy. I had nothing todo with it. But they were bent on luring you to Naraini's bower, andthey figured that after receiving it you'd go anywhere to meet the manwho returned it. By the way, where's Ram Nath?"
"He's staying in England as body-servant to Colonel Farrell."
"He's well off, so; his sphere of usefulness in India was at an end.So, in fact, was mine. That's why I'm here--on indefinite leave ofabsence. One or two things grew out of the affair of the Gateway tomake me a person of interest to the natives, and when that happens inIndia it's just as well for the interesting person to pack up and getthence with all possible expedition. It's too bad; I was really doingsome good work there. Well...! When the East gets into a fellow'sblood, he's a hopeless, incurable case; I shall go back, I presume,some day. If the big trouble comes in my lifetime--and I think it will;come it will unquestionably, soon or late--
I shan't be able to keepaway, you know." He glanced at his watch and rose. "Time to dress fordinner," said he; and as they were moving to the door, he added: "Whatever became of that emerald ring, Amber?"
"The Eye?" Amber laughed. "Well--it was silly enough; but women aresuperstitious, you know--Sophia dropped it overboard one day as we werecoming through the Mediterranean. She said she was afraid of it ... andI don't know but I sympathise with her."
"I'm certain I do. And yet, in your case, it was the means ofintroducing you, wasn't it?... But there! It's been on the tip of mytongue a dozen times to ask, but other things got in the way.... How_is_ Mrs. Amber?"
"You shall see for yourself," said Amber, "when we meet for dinner."
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