CHAPTER NINETEEN.
IN STRANGE QUARTERS.
Murad Afzul was in high glee, for which he had good reason. TheTarletons and Haslam he had released, conditionally on the promise ofpayment of a good round sum of rupees. True, the promise was so far onpaper only, but curiously enough Murad Afzul, robber and generalfreebooter as he was himself, entertained a high opinion of the promisesof the Sahibs--Feringhi infidels as they were; besides, there was justthis amount of additional security, that did they repudiate theirpromise in this instance, why then, they had better go away and dwellright at the further end of India, and that at a day's notice, even ifthey did not put the sea between them and him, for any closer proximitywould certainly prove fatal to their health. As it was, the terms weresatisfactory all round, for all observation had gone to convince thatshrewd marauder that though it might be safe sport flaying and burningsuch of his Asiatic fellow-subjects who should fall into his hands, itdid not pay to extend such operations to the Sahibs. They would standrobbery, but at the murder of themselves they drew the line. So a_bundobust_ was entered into, and for what was, under the circumstances,a moderate ransom, the British captives were allowed to return toMazaran, and they, reckoning that the Government would pay, deemedthemselves mighty lucky in getting off so cheap. But Murad Afzul couldafford to be moderate just then, for he was standing in for a stroke ofbusiness beside which the gains already secured were as a fleabite, andthis was the capture of Herbert Raynier, and the reward offered by theNawab for that feat.
Incidentally Murad Afzul had other kine to milk--which in their waywould give a good, rich, profitable yield. The wily freebooter hadissued orders that two men should be exempted from the slaughter whichhad taken place of the camp servants, and these two were Raynier'schuprassis. He knew his way about, did Murad Afzul, whereupon he arguedthat if any man was likely to be the possessor of a considerable hoardof ill-gotten gains, that man would be a Government chuprassi.Accordingly he named a good round sum apiece, which Sunt Singh and KaurSingh were invited to disgorge, and on their protesting their utterinability to do so, were immediately treated to an instalment of theconsequences of such refusal duly persisted in.
It is curious how, even outside the covers of a book, or off the stage,poetic justice will sometimes overtake delinquents, and that as a sheermatter of cause and effect, and now for instance, as they yelled andwrithed, each with a red-hot coal bound up within his left armpit--notthe right, lest they should be unable to indite the requisite documentauthorising payment of their ransom--it did not, of course, occur toSunt Singh and Kaur Singh that this was indirect result of theirsupercilious repulse of Chand Lall from their master's audience, becausethey were unaware of the nature of his errand. But it is none the lesscertain that had that luckless trader been able to communicate thatMurad Afzul and his gang of "budmashes" were out in the district, anddacoity in full blast, Raynier would never have ventured forth thus on apractically defenceless camping expedition, nor suffered others to do soeither, in which contingency the events just recorded would, so far,never have taken place.
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Raynier, awaking to consciousness, stared at the opposite wall, then atthe furniture, then at the window, then closed his eyes again. Aconfused medley was flitting through his clouded brain. He seemed tosee, but as if in a far-off time, the hiding-place among the mountaintops, the rain and mist and wild storms, to feel in a dull and uneasyform of sense the oppression of some peril hanging over him, butsequence of thought refused to come. Events chased each other in wildphantasmagoria through his mind, a sense of being hurled through space,a shock of some sort, a ring of shaggy fierce countenances and the flashof uplifted tulwars. Then, of a sudden, his mind cleared. Heremembered the runaway horse and how his last sense had been that ofbeing whirled into space, wrapped in a chill mist. But Hilda? What ofher? Where was she? Had she been found too. Was she here, and--whereon earth was he?
He opened his eyes wide now, and stared around the room. Yes, it was aroom, but a strange one. The walls were of a dull brown colour, andunpapered. The window was a tall, narrow embrasure, glazed and partlyopen. In the doorway was a _chik_ of fine split bamboo, draped by fadedcurtains, and a lamp of strange, but very artistic, design hung from theceiling. Where was he? And he made a movement to spring out of bed.
A figure glided to his side, a figure clad in white and wearing aturban, and a hand was laid upon his wrist.
"Do not move, Sahib. The Sahib must lie quiet. The Sahib has beenill."
The words were spoken in Hindustani, and now Raynier answered in thesame tongue,--
"I suppose I have been. But where am I, and--who are you?"
"I am a Hakim [native physician.]. The Sahib must not talk," was theanswer, ignoring the first part of the question. This the patient didnot fail to notice.
"That is all right, Hakim Sahib"--Raynier was always polite in hisaddress with natives, and if they had any title or rank never failed togive them the benefit of it. "But what I want to know is, where am I?"
The question was asked with some impatience. The doctor, seeing that hewas likely to become excited, which would be highly prejudicial to thepatient, and therefore equally so to his own interest, replied,--
"You are in the house of his Greatness the Nawab."
"What?" almost shouted Raynier.
"In the house of the Nawab Mahomed Mushim Khan," repeated the Hakim.
"Oh, then, I am in good hands. The Nawab and I are friends. Is theMiss Sahib here too?"
Even if the doctor had not turned away to conceal it, Raynier would nothave noticed the strange look which had come over his face, as indeedhow should he?
"Yes, yes," was the hurried answer. "Now the Sahib must not talk anymore."
"But I must see her if only for a minute. She will come, I know. Bringher to me, Hakim Sahib, then I will be as quiet as you wish."
"That cannot be," was the answer. "She is getting on well, but not wellenough to talk to the Sahib. In a few days, perhaps. Now the Sahibmust rest quiet or he will not get well enough to see her at all."
Raynier sighed. There was sense in what the other said, he supposed,yet it was hard. Hilda would naturally have suffered from reaction, andcould conceivably be anything but well. Why, he himself was as weak asa cat, as the sapient simile for some inscrutable reason puts it, theharmless, necessary domestic feline being, proportionately, of thestrongest and most wiry of the animal creation.
"Can I see the Nawab, then?" he said.
"The Nawab is absent."
"Then his brother, the Sirdar Kuhandil Khan? Will he not come and seeme?"
"He too is absent, Sahib. In a few days, perhaps, when the Sahib iswell."
With this answer Raynier must fain be content. A drowsiness stole overhim, begotten of the exertion of talking, and a great sense of securityand comfort Mushim Khan was his friend, and although he might have beendrawn into the present bobbery--all these mountain tribes dearly lovedthe fun of fighting--why, he and Hilda would be perfectly safe under hisroof. Hilda, of course, had been found at the same time as himself, andbrought here. They would meet in a day or two, as the doctor had said,and when the fighting was over, why, then, they would return to Mazaran,and--good Heavens! why would the thought of Cynthia Daintree obtrudeitself? And as, in consequence, he began to turn restlessly, the Hakimglided to his side.
"Drink this," he said, pouring something from a phial. Raynier did so,and in another moment was slumbering hard and peacefully.
For two or three days longer was Raynier thus tended, but day and nightthe Hakim was with him, or in the room which lay behind the _chik_, or,if absent for a while, his place was supplied by an attendant. But notby any chance, not for one single instant was he ever left alone. Hadhe been a criminal awaiting the gallows he could not have been moreclosely and continuously watched. He tried to obtain information as towhat was going on outside, but wi
thout avail. On general subjects thedoctor or the attendant would converse, but let him once touch that ofthe present disturbance and they were closeness itself. Then he thoughtit was time to insist on seeing Hilda.
With deprecatory words, and far from easy in his mind, the Hakim toldhim that the Miss Sahib was not there. He had told him the contrary, itwas true, but he was very weak and ill, and good news is better for asick man than bad news, wherefore he had told him what he had.
What, then, had become of Miss Sahib? Raynier asked. Had she not beenfound at the same time as himself? He was repressing a murderous desireto leap upon and throttle this liar of a Hakim, and only the knowledgethat violence would serve no good purpose whatever availed to restrainhim. He controlled his voice, too, striving to speak calmly.
No, she had not been found, the doctor answered. It was not even knownthat there was a Miss Sahib with him at all. He had been found by aparty of Gularzai in the early morning lying unconscious on the mountainside, and brought here. But there was nobody with him. And then theHakim, looking at him with something like pity, it might have beenthought, suggested that the time had come when the Sahib might take alittle fresh air.
A few moments ago, and how welcome the idea would have been. He waslonging to see something beyond the four walls of his room--of hisprison; and from his window nothing was visible but another wall. Butnow the shock was too great, too stunning. He had pictured Hilda herewith him, here in security, and, after their hardships, in some degreeof comfort. And all the time this infernal Hakim had been feeding himon lies. What had become of her? He remembered how she had gone afterthe horse, but of the descent of the mist he remembered nothing. Hadshe wandered too far and been unable to find him again? Great Heaven!how awful. A defenceless woman, alone, lost, in that savage mountainsolitude, with night coming on, and that woman Hilda Clive. And then bya strange inspiration came a modicum of comfort in the thought that itwas Hilda Clive; for it brought back to him certain recollections. Heremembered her bizarre midnight walk in a semi-trance, the perilousepisode in the _tangi_ and the consummate nerve and utter unconcern shehad displayed. She had qualities, properties, gifts, what you will,which placed her utterly outside any other woman he had ever known--andthese might now carry her through where another would succumb.
Following the Hakim and the attendant mechanically, Raynier foundhimself in a kind of courtyard, rather was it a roof, flat and walledin. He could see two or three other similar roof courtyards, withpeople on them. But where was he? He had been in Mushim Khan'sdwelling, an ordinary mud-walled village similar in every way to ahundred others inhabited by the Gularzai and kindred border tribes, butthis place was akin to a castle or rock fortress. He could not see muchof it, but it seemed to him that the place he was in crowned the summitof a rock eminence, into which it was partly built. Had Mushim Khananother dwelling, then--a mountain stronghold which he used in times ofdisturbance? It looked so.
How blue the sky was, how bracing the air. Raynier drew in deepdraughts of the latter. He felt recovered already, and earnestly helonged for the return of the Nawab, that he might be set at liberty, andat once start in search of Hilda. Little he cared now about hisofficial prospects or anything of the kind. This girl who had been hiscompanion in danger and hardship filled all his thoughts.
And then immediately beneath him arose an outburst of the most awfulcries and shrieks, such as could have been wrung only from a human beingundergoing the extremity of anguish and bodily torture. With blanchedface and chilled blood he rushed to the parapet and looked over.