Barclay of the Guides

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH

  Within the Gates

  It was still early morning when Ahmed rode up to the red walls of Delhi;but in spite of the hour there was already much traffic through theAjmir gate. A long line of bullock-carts was filing along the Jaipurroad past the garden suburb of Paharganj, conveying country produce intothe city. A regiment of sepoys was marching out of the gate towards theencampment lying across the road. To the left of the gate rose the tombof Ghazi Khan, and in the centre of the city towered the dome andminarets of the Jama Masjid--the splendid mosque which is the Mecca ofMohammedan India. Ahmed was amazed at the vastness of this city of theMoguls. He felt as a Highland lad might feel if suddenly transplantedfrom his little village among the lochs and mountains to the turmoil ofLondon.

  Delhi had none of the aspects of a beleaguered city; indeed, it wasnever in the military sense besieged. The British force was far toosmall to attempt a strict investment of the great city. Men might go inand out as they pleased. The holders of the Ridge were far more closelybeset. Save that his communications were open in the rear, GeneralBarnard might himself have been considered to be in a state of siege. Hewas holding his ground, waiting for the opportunity to strike a blow.

  Ahmed followed at the tail end of the procession of carts. As heapproached the gate he observed a strong guard of armed sepoys there,and wondered whether he would have any difficulty in passing. He felt alittle timid now that he was actually drawing near to the heart andfocus of the great rebellion, but he crushed down the feeling, andassuming a bold front accosted one of the guard and began in hisimperfect Urdu to pour out his tale of tribulation.

  "Salaam, jamadar!" he said, giving the man a sausage by way ofingratiation a title at least two grades above his proper rank, andraising his right hand to his brow in due Moslem salutation; "thou dostbehold one who is very thankful to Allah this day."

  "Salaam, banijara," said the man. "What is this thou tellest me?"

  "Thou beholdest one, a peaceable trader, as thou seest, who has escapedthe very jaws of death. I was one of a small caravan bringing richmerchandise for the subahdars of the army of the faithful; nay, maybefor the most noble shadow of Allah the king himself. And lo! we were setupon in the twinkling of an eye by a troop of vile Gujars, sons ofperdition, and though we fought like lions--was not Sherdil, the son ofAssad, among us?--what could we do? We are not men of the sword, likethee."

  "True; the camel is but as a leaf when the tiger springs upon him. Go onwith thy tale."

  "We were like leaves, as thou sayest, when the wind blows. We werescattered, and I in my haste quitted the road, and by the grace of Allahgot myself away among trees and bushes, and so escaped. And I wanderedlong, and by great good fortune found myself at length upon this veryroad. 'Twas good fortune indeed, for had we not been molested we mightverily have blundered upon the camp of the Feringhis, and then my goodswould have come to the hands of vile kafirs instead of true believers.And now that I have found the city of peace, I would fain know of somegood serai where men of my folk are wont to resort, so that I may restsomewhat from my journey before I carry my goods to the subahdars andhave some recompense for my toils and perils."

  He slipped a coin into the man's hand; bakshish would always smooth theway.

  "In very truth thou hast been fortunate," said the sepoy; "yet notwholly, for it is no good time for buying and selling in Delhi. Wesoldiers--even the subahdars, save some few who made great plunder atthe first rising--cry out for money, and there is none that hears. Yetthou mayst find some of the princes who will look at thy wares: go inpeace."

  And he gave Ahmed the names of two or three serais frequented by tradersof his nation. Ahmed went on his way rejoicing. He had asked for theAfghan serais merely to avoid them; his imposture might be discovered ifhe came among genuine merchants. After a little trouble and discreetinquiries he found a humble inn at the corner of the Moti Bazar, nearthe centre of the city and not far from the Kotwali--the head-quartersof the city police--and having left his wares and his camel in thecharge of the bhatiyara, he sallied out into the thronging streets, tolearn somewhat of the immense city in which, as he supposed, his lot wasfor some time to be cast.

  He made his way first to the Chandni Chauk, and was amazed at the shopswhich lined that thoroughfare. He had seen shops in Peshawar, but nonelike these. The street was thronged, and the people were talkingexcitedly in groups. Hovering on the outskirts of one of these he heardthe name of Bakht Khan frequently mentioned, and by and by made out thatthis rebel artillery officer was expected to arrive shortly with a vasthost which would sweep all the Feringhis before it. He went on until hereached the palace, and stood for some time watching the streams ofpeople coming and going--officers, court officials, scribes,bankers--all showing signs of the same excitement. Then he passed on bythe palace wall until he reached the Calcutta gate, and saw the fort ofSelimgarh stretching out into the river, and learnt from a bystanderwhom he ventured to address that it was by this very route that thefirst mutineers had ridden in from Meerut; and there, a little to theleft, was the Magazine, the scene of Lieutenant Willoughby's greatexploit, when, after defending his post with nine companions against ahorde of assailants, he at last blew it up rather than let it fall intothe hands of the rebels.

  When midday came he was tired and hungry, and returned to the serai fora meal. Later in the day, when the heat was past, he unloaded his bales,hired a coolie, and set forth to offer his wares to the Prince MirzaMogul, subahdar of the volunteer regiment of native infantry, who seemedto be one of the most important persons in the city. But on arriving atthe head-quarters of the regiment he found that the prince had gone toattend a darbar at the palace. Some of the subordinate officers,however, were curious to see the contents of the bale he had brought,and he displayed before them the fabrics he had purchased in Karnal withmoney given him by Hodson Sahib. Many of the officers, in spite of theirhaving received little or no pay from the King of Delhi, were rich withthe spoils of looted provincial treasuries, and were quite ready tobargain for the many-coloured shawls whose merits Ahmed extolled withoriental extravagance.

  It takes a long time to conclude a bargain in the East, and Ahmed knewenough of the part he was to play to make no attempt to shorten thebusiness. After haggling for an hour or two he allowed the purchasers tobuy some of his goods at what they considered very low prices, notforgetting to assure them that he was being absolutely ruined, and butfor the disturbance of trade, due to the upheaval, he would not dream ofparting with his wares at such low figures. And he told over again thestory of his providential escape from the Gujars, and made himself sopleasant that the officers gossiped freely with him about things thatwere happening--of the regiments that were expected to arrive in thecity, the confiscation of the property of Beg Begam Shamen, the shootingof four spies who had been captured in the English camp. Above all, theycomplained of the stinginess of the miserable old king, who wouldneither pay them their arrears nor allow them to obtain their just duesby exerting pressure on the shroffs. They talked in very large terms ofthe wealth they would secure when the Feringhis were finally defeated,and Ahmed went away feeling that at present they had absolute confidencein their ultimate success.

  Next day he heard sounds of firing, and learnt by and by that anengagement had taken place with the English at Sabzi Mandi, a suburb atthe southern end of the Ridge. Presently a great mob of yelling fanaticsrushed into the city with an elephant they had captured from theEnglish, and they led it in triumph to the palace as a present for theking. Ahmed followed in their wake, accompanied by his coolie with abale. He had learnt that a regiment of sepoys was quartered in temporarybarracks close to the palace, and it seemed likely that the officersmight be in the mood to become purchasers. On reaching the barracks hefound that they had gone to the palace to join in acclaiming the leadersof the force which had that day, according to their own account, doneprodigious execution among the enemy. Ahmed was not sorry; while waitingfor the return of the officers he wou
ld have an opportunity of gleaninga little information from the men. And so, after a little exchange ofcourtesies, he said--

  "Without doubt such fine men as you must have a famous warrior asleader."

  "Without doubt, though we know him little yet," was the reply. "He is,at any rate, a fellow-countryman of yours, O banijara, and a very devoutman."

  "What! Has he not led you against the Feringhis? Surely in no better waycould he prove his devoutness."

  "That is very true, and he will lead us when the time comes. There is nodoubt of our bravery; we came from Nimuch, and were not admitted to thecity until we had covered ourselves with glory in a fight with theEnglish. But our subadhar has only of late been appointed to command us,and since then we have not been outside the walls. We lost very heavilyat Badli-ki-serai, the day before those Guides--accursed traitors--cameinto the English camp. We killed thousands and thousands of the English,but could not utterly defeat them for want of ammunition. And oursubahdar was killed. Though our new subahdar has not fought with us yet,he must be a very brave man, or our king would not have appointed himover the heads of other officers who led us."

  "It is well you have a subahdar so much to your mind," said Ahmed.

  "He is indeed a good man," said another sepoy. "These are hard times,and the great one knows how unjust it is to forbid us to take what wecan. He shuts one eye, and if that eye is turned to us when we aretaking a little loot--why, Allah is good. In truth"--and here the mandropped his voice--"a part of our loot is set aside, and if it does notfind its way to the subahdar, I know not where it goes. 'Twas onlyyesterday we roasted a rascally shroff until he showed us where hismoney-bags were hidden. That is as it should be, for the shroffs beingvile Hindus, it is not meet that the faithful should want while theunbelievers are waxing fat with great gain. In truth, good banijara,Minghal Khan is a noble officer, and if you do but wait a little, maybehe will buy somewhat of you, seeing that you are of his race."

  Ahmed wondered whether he had concealed the start of surprise he felt hehad involuntarily given when the name of Minghal Khan was mentioned.That wily enemy of his father was here in Delhi, then, playing a newpart. His impulse was to depart at once, lest Minghal should return anddiscover him. His disguise, to be sure, was good: it was hardly likelythat any one who knew Ahmed the boy would recognize him in the beardedtrader--and Ahmed found the beard, fixed on with a kind of glue,decidedly uncomfortable. But Minghal was an adept at disguises himself,as his appearance at Mardan as a fakir proved; and if he heard thissupposed trader's voice, Ahmed feared that he was lost.

  As ill-luck would have it, before he could decently break off hisconversation and take his departure, a jamadar of the regiment returned,and, seeing the bundle, demanded that it should be opened. There was nohelp for it; Ahmed had to display his wares, and was immediately engagedin a haggling bout. Being thoroughly uneasy, he determined to cut thebusiness short, and indeed concluded a bargain with a rapidity and at asacrifice that evidently surprised his customer. Ahmed hastened toassure him that at an ordinary time he would rather starve than acceptsuch a price, but what was a poor trader to do in these times oftrouble? He must take what he could get and be thankful.

  The natural result of this was that the customer hesitated. Perhaps ifhe haggled a little longer he would get the article--a fine embroideredshawl--still cheaper. But Ahmed now spoke up resolutely.

  "No, I must make sacrifices; it is fate; but I will not give my goodsaway. Here, Ali, the hazur does not want the shawl. Roll it up in thebundle; we will be gone."

  And then the jamadar, fearing he might lose his bargain after all,closed with the offer, and paid the price.

  It was only just in time. The coolie was actually rolling up the bundlewhen Minghal Khan himself, accompanied by two or three subordinateofficers, turned the corner, and approached the door of the barracks atwhich the chaffering had been going on. Ahmed instinctively bent down,in spite of his disguise, to avoid recognition, and helped the man totie up the bundle. One of the sepoys with whom he had been inconversation nudged him.

  "That is our noble subahdar," he said in a whisper.

  Ahmed made but a slight sign that he heard. He did not venture to lookup until Minghal Khan had passed by. Then he said--

  "Without doubt he is a very devout man, but does he seem fit to commandsuch fine warriors as you? Truly he has not the figure of a greatcommander. Nevertheless the king knows best."

  "And will you not show him your goods?"

  "Another time. The great man talked very earnestly with his friends. Itis certain he is occupied with weighty matters. It would not beseem myinsignificance to intrude upon him now. Salaam!"

  He went back to the serai and dismissed the coolie. He had had enough ofplaying the trader for that time. The rest of the day he spent inwandering about the city, haunting the gates, noting the strength of thesepoys at the bastions, and picking up what scraps of information hecould.

  That night, under cover of the darkness, he sought out the house of theMaulavi Fazl Hak, who, while in high favour with the king, was secretlyin the confidence of Rajab Ali Khan, the organizer of Hodson's spies. Itwas to him that Ahmed was to make his reports, and by him that the meansof conveying his information to the British lines would be arranged. Hewas admitted to the presence of the maulavi, a man of dignified aspect,with eyes of particular brilliance. Fazl Hak was convinced from thefirst that the cause of the mutineers was hopeless, and advised the kingmany times during the siege to make his peace with the sahibs before itwas too late.

  "I am Ahmed Khan," said the visitor, after salutations had beenexchanged, "and I bring greeting from the Maulavi Rajab Ali."

  "Yes. You came in yesterday by the Ajmir gate."

  "True," said Ahmed, somewhat surprised.

  "And you took up your abode in the serai of Gopal Ali by the MotiBazar."

  "It is so," said Ahmed, wondering more and more.

  "And you have sold goods to officers of the regiments of the PrinceMirza Mogul and Minghal Khan."

  "All this is true," said Ahmed, feeling strangely uncomfortable; "andyet I know not how it reached your ears."

  "That is no matter. It is my business to know things. And now, what canI do for you?"

  "I would send a message to Hodson Sahib."

  "Well, I have been asked to assist an Afghan trader named Ahmed Khan.That was Rajab Ali's word. I will do all I can. Say on. What is themessage?"

  "I must say it to a munshi, who will write with a pen what I speak withmy lips."

  "I will write. Speak."

  Then Ahmed began, in the grave and earnest manner of one engaged in animportant transaction, to describe what he had seen, and relate what hehad heard. For some little while Fazl Hak wrote with the finest of pens,in diminutive characters, on paper so thin that Ahmed marvelled it wasnot pierced. The maulavi's grave face expressed nothing of what hethought; perhaps one who knew him better might have detected a slighttwinkle beneath his veiling eyelids, and the play of his lips behindtheir curtain of beard. All at once he stopped writing, and looking upat Ahmed, said--

  "Does a man cook eggs that are already eaten? This that you say, AhmedKhan, is a twice-told tale. The oldest of your news went to the Englishthree days ago; the newest, a little ere the gates were shut."

  Ahmed flushed, and looked exceedingly abashed. He was chagrined at hisfailure, and annoyed that Fazl Hak had let him go on even so longdictating his stale news. Something in the maulavi's manner suggestedthat he was not wholly pleased at Ahmed's presence in Delhi. Perhaps hethought that his friend Rajab Ali might have consulted him beforesending a new and untried spy into the city. And if this was indeed hisfeeling, how well, thought Ahmed, was it justified? Was this manomniscient, that nothing could escape him? Ahmed felt thoroughlydisheartened. What could he do? He would only make himself foolish inthe eyes of the sahibs if he sent them old news, even as he had alreadymade himself foolish in the eyes of Fazl Hak.

  "Go on," said the maulavi. "Let me write some new
news."

  "Of what use, O wise one? It were but waste of breath."

  "Yet go on. Who can tell but that the wind may have carried one littleseed to your ear?"

  "A man was hanged to-day on a tree before the Kotwali, it being supposedhe was concerned in the making of a mine that was discovered by theKashmir gate."

  "And a man in the garb of a fakir," said the maulavi, as if incontinuance of the report, "was seized at the Ajmir gate, and it beingsuspected that he was a spy, he was killed. Go on."

  "Bakht Khan with his force from Bareilly has halted at the tomb ofSafdar Jang."

  "That was yesterday. He is now at Ghaziabad. Go on."

  "I will even go to my place, and trouble you no more until I have learntsomewhat that no one else can know. Is it not vain to pour water into avessel that is already full?"

  And then Fazl Hak laid down his pen and smiled. It was as though he wassatisfied with having impressed Ahmed with a sense of his knowledge andof his own insignificance.

  "Come, let us talk as friends," he said. "You are but a youth in thesethings, in spite of your beard." ("He does not know of my disguise,then," thought Ahmed; this was a little cheering.) "And for one who isbut beginning you have not done amiss. I perceive that you have a quickeye and a ready ear, and if, when these troubles are over, you care toenter my service, without doubt you will in due time become thepossessor of many rupees."

  "I thank you," said Ahmed, the sting of his humiliation somewhatmollified; "but when I have found the hakim I shall return to my ownplace."

  "The hakim! What is this about a hakim?"

  The maulavi's evident surprise pleased Ahmed: here was something elsethat he did not know.

  "I came not only to learn things about the rebels," he said, "but todiscover the whereabouts of an English hakim who is concealed somewherein the city--Craddock Sahib; maybe you know somewhat of him?"

  "It was told me that he was slain. How know you that he is yet alive?"

  "A chit was carried from him to his daughter in Karnal; therefore am Ihere."

  "I knew it not, and it is good knowledge, for Craddock Sahib is a goodhakim, and cured me of a fever."

  "Then you will help me to find him?"

  "That I cannot do; I have too much to do otherwise, and further, itmight bring me into great peril. Already I run great risks. Is it notknown who carried the chit?"

  "A man who would say nothing, if indeed he knew anything. The missysahib thought that her father might have been saved by one of hisservants: the khansaman, Kaluja Dass, seemed to be a true servant. Knowyou aught of him?"

  "No. I know much, as you have perceived, but I do not know thewhereabouts of every khansaman who served the English before thetroubles. But I can soon discover."

  He clapped his hands, and a chaprasi appeared. The maulavi gave him afew instructions in a low tone, and the man went out again.

  "He will assuredly learn what we desire to know. Until he returnsrefresh yourself. There are sherbets at your service, also a hookah."

  Ahmed took the sherbets, but declined the hookah. In the course of anhour the man came back, and spoke apart with his master. Then hedisappeared.

  "It is vain," said Fazl Hak. "The khansaman has become a rebel. Heserves Minghal Khan, who now occupies Craddock Sahib's house. Thekhansaman, Kaluja Dass, is heard daily cursing the sahibs whom formerlyhe served, and verily he hates them above measure, or he would not havetaken service with Minghal Khan. You must seek elsewhere for thepreserver of the hakim. And if you find him, let me know; I would dosomewhat for Craddock Sahib."