Chapter XIII
_WHAT BIPIN OVERHEARD_
Bipin Dat was returning from his morning prayers at the temple ofVishnu absorbed in thought. His brow was puckered, his eyes directedtoward the ground, as he made his way slowly through the press in thebazaar. In his mind serious doubt had arisen regarding the power of thegood tempered God of the great middle caste to avert the calamity whichthe astrologer persistently reasserted was suspended over his head.Manifestly, it was useless, he reasoned, to continue his offeringsat the shrine of a deity, who either could or would not protect him,when the face of some other of the innumerable personages of theHindu pantheon was turned with vindictive anger upon his career. Thedifficulty was to discover the God to be propitiated, as by an unluckychance he might overlook the very one causing him so much unhappiness.Truly it was a perplexing situation for the worthy secretary. He almostwished he were a Mohammedan with only one God from which to choose.
With unbounded pride ever directing his vision to impossible heights,he had come to believe that eventually he might forsake the God of hisbirth and assume the right to pay tribute to Siva the mystical God ofthe Brahmans; but clearly this was not the hour for the worship of adeity enveloped in an abstract philosophy. A man with his ears andnose, if not his life, in momentary danger is inclined to resort to amore tangible incarnation of divine power, and possibly wrath. Withterror enthroned in his soul, what more human than that he should turnto Siva in that deity's non-Aryan form, as the awe inspiring God of themass of the people, or his wife the bloody fury, the serpent crownedKali. On the morrow he determined to prostrate himself covertly inthe temple of the third person of the great Hindu Triad, and see if abetter result might not be obtained. He heartily wished he was withinreasonable distance of a shrine of holy Mother Ganges, for assuredlyimmersion in the waters of the sacred river, could not fail to appeaseall the Gods, by this one supreme act of devotion.
So deeply absorbed was Bipin in this all important problem, that he hadfailed to more than casually notice the actions of a small boy withwell fattened limbs, displayed to somewhat unnecessary advantage by astring tied round his waist with a charm attached as his sole approachto clothing.
At every few steps taken by the secretary, the small boy ran forwardand interposing his chubby form, salaamed respectfully.
Several times Bipin had stepped to one side under the impression thatthe boy's intention was merely to show respect for one of such exaltedstation, but at last becoming conscious of the youngster's persistency,Bipin halted and frowned down upon him threateningly.
"How now, boy"? he asked sternly. "What do you mean by continuallygetting in my way"?
"Great Secretary Sahib," replied the boy. "I am the son of MohurranGoshi."
"_Wah_"! exclaimed Bipin. "So you are the son of Mohurran Goshi. Well!what does the son of Mohurran Goshi mean by repeatedly making ofhimself a stumbling block for my feet"?
"Lord Protector of the Poor," replied the boy deferentially. "My fatherbade me seek thee urgently with the message that thou art to repair tohis house, without fail, two hours after sunset."
"Thy father bade thee tell me that I am to come to his house two hoursafter sunset," repeated Bipin reflectively. "Did he say for whatpurpose, dutiful son of Mohurran Goshi"?
"Not he, great sir," replied the boy, _salaaming_.
Bipin thought for a moment. It was possible that the astrologer haddiscovered a charm that would forever confound the machinations of theaccursed Hindu noble.
"What answer shall I take from the great Secretary Raja"? asked the boywith a twinkle of innate cunning.
Bipin gazed approvingly on the lad who flattered his vanity by the useof such high sounding titles.
"Thou art a well favored youth," he remarked, "and properly trained inthe respect due to people of importance. Go, tell thy learned father,that I will be at his door at the hour appointed."
As Bipin took a step forward the boy again interposed his person withoutstretched hand.
"A present, Secretary Raja," he cried. "A present."
"Ah, a present," returned the secretary. "What now do you want with apresent"?
"To buy sweetmeats, noble Lord," the boy answered.
Bipin discovered a small coin in his waistband, and gave it to theastrologer's son.
The boy _salaamed_ his thanks, and danced off to a nearby stall, makinga sly grimace at the vanishing back of the Rani's worthy secretary.
A little before the time set by the astrologer, Bipin urged a matter ofimportance as an excuse for his absence from the palace, and directedhis steps toward Mohurran Goshi's humble abode.
He found the astrologer in a state of suppressed excitement.
"There is not a moment to lose, worthy Secretary," said he. "Shortlythou wilt be in possession of information that will enable thee tofrustrate thine enemy for all time. With it, thou canst repair to theRani and ask any reward at her hands. But be careful not to disclosethe source of thy information, or thou wilt surely fail in thy object.Come, follow quickly, and hold thy peace at whatever thou mayest see orhear, or our lives would go out as a torch flung into a pond."
Mohurran Goshi rapidly led the Rani's secretary by dark, narrow alleys,to one of the gates of the city, and thence out a short distancealong a by-path to a small hut secluded amid a clump of trees. Theabsence of a light and the usual yelping of mongrel dogs, suggestedthe inference that the place was, at least, temporarily uninhabited.Mohurran Goshi again enjoined the strictest silence upon Bipin and badehim remain in the shadow of an out-building, while he went forwardapparently to reconnoiter. Bipin watched his guide approach the doorcautiously and listen. In a few minutes the astrologer returnedstealthily, and beckoned Bipin to follow. He led Bipin round to therear of the house and halted beside an open window. From within twovoices could be heard in conversation, for the greater part in anunintelligible undertone, but at intervals rising so that they could beplainly overheard.
"Dost make out who it is that is speaking"? the astrologer asked in awhisper.
"One voice rises familiarly on my ears," returned the secretary.
"Hush"! enjoined the astrologer. "It is that of thine enemy, PrasadSingh. Wait patiently and listen."
Bipin shivered. A groan of terror was only suppressed by the greaterfear of being discovered.
Presently the voice unknown to Bipin asked a question, distinctly heardwithout.
"Dost think, my Lord, that sixty men will suffice for the affair"?
"They will be enough," returned that of the other speaker, which Bipinbelieved to come from the mouth of Prasad. "We will carry the palaceby assault, and make away with everyone who intercepts our progress,until we reach the person of the Rani."
"To-morrow night thou hast determined on the attempt"?
"To-morrow night. Be careful to come to the place of meeting at thetomb of Firoz Khan near the lake, one hour before midnight."
"As thou commandest. Hast thou a particular desire to make a prisonerof anyone"?
"Aye truly have I," came the quick rejoinder. "Thou wilt secure butdeal gently with that arch rascal, Bipin Dat."
Without, the astrologer clapped a hand over the secretary's mouth toprevent a wail of despair going forth upon the night.
"Set thy knees and teeth, worthy Secretary," whispered the astrologer,"or they will shake the heavens down upon our heads."
"Be very careful of him," continued the voice within, "as I havesomewhat to say regarding his impertinence and presumption beforecutting his nose and ears off, and flinging his liver to the dogs. Ofall those about the Rani, him I detest the most."
Bipin sank an invertebrate bundle of humanity to the ground. Heentwined his arms about the astrologer's legs in a mute appeal forprotection. His throat was incapable of uttering a sound.
The astrologer stooped down and shook Bipin by the shoulder.
"Go," he urged in an imperative whisper, "if thou wouldst save thylife and that of others. Come, get upon thy feet. Fly to the Rani'spresence, an
d disclose to her this accursed plot. Remember that themeeting place is the tomb of Firoz Khan at one hour before midnight,to-morrow. I would come with thee but my bones are old, and must remainto screen thy flight."
Bipin crawled on his hands and knees to a little distance, and thenrising, ran as fast as his corpulency would permit, back in thedirection of the city.
Of that journey he retained afterwards little recollection. More thanonce he fell over some obstacle in his path, to rise with bruisedlimbs and resume his terror-hounded course. He lost his slippers in aditch, and his turban in a thicket, into which he had strayed in thedarkness. Whether he entered the city by a gate or scaled the walls heknew not, but panting, scratched, and with disordered garments, theworthy secretary did at last reach the palace, and struggle in by theastonished servants.
At the hour of Bipin's return, the Rani was entertaining her court witha _natch_ in one of the gardens. Among others, Ahmad Khan had availedhimself of an invitation to be present, leaving his guest, Prasad, ina better humor than he had displayed for some days past. As a sign ofreviving spirit, he had even promised the Mohammedan to take part ina boar hunt on the following morning. He had scarcely mentioned theRani's name since the astrologer's visit of the day before, exceptto remark that he believed Mohurran Goshi's pills and charms wereassisting him to control his passion.
By the light of torches the girls had delighted their audience withseveral exhibitions of their art. In an interval refreshments ofsweetmeats and sherbet were being served, when the strange figure madeby Bipin Dat broke through the half circle formed by the girls andmusicians. Out of breath, with his dress in the utmost disorder, hewaddled to the Rani's position, and with a groan sank down at her feet.
"Why, what is the meaning of this"? asked the Rani in accents ofsurprise. "Truly, O Bipin, thou must have been chased by the terriblewhite fox of which thou livest in such dread."
"O great Lady," moaned Bipin, casting his hands upward despairingly."Alas! we are all, every one of us, now dead."
"Dead"! exclaimed the Rani. "Not quite dead yet, I think, goodSecretary."
"_Ah, hae, hae_"! Bipin continued to moan piteously. "Dead, all dead,"he groaned; "or before another moon has set, most assuredly we all willbe."
"Now what dost thou mean by this nonsense"? demanded the Raniimpatiently. "Speak, what has reduced thee to such a condition ofdistress. Thou art interrupting the pleasure of my guests."
A groan as if drawn from the pit of his stomach came forth from Bipin'slips.
"O Rani," he spoke hoarsely. "The accursed Prasad Singh, may God sendhis soul into the body of a scorpion for ten thousand years, he--he----"
At the mention of the Hindu noble's name, the Rani started and gazedinquiringly upon Bipin, who hesitated, as if he knew not how tocommence his horrifying disclosure.
"Well," urged the Rani. "Well, what of the noble Prasad Singh. Whatknowest thou of him"?
"Oh! great Rani. He--the accursed Prasad Singh plotteth----"
"Stay," interposed the Rani quickly. "Stay Bipin, I will hear what thouhast to impart privately."
"Ahmad Khan," she said, turning to the Mohammedan. "As Prasad is thyguest, thou wilt come with us apart. Let the _natch_ continue," sheadded to an attendant. "We will return presently."
She led the way to a corridor at one end of the garden and thenaddressed Bipin.
"Speak now what thou knowest of the noble Prasad Singh, and be certainthat it is no idle tale, no unfounded gossip, or rest assured thou wiltsuffer real pain without any doubt."
"Great Rani," returned Bipin plaintively. "Let my mouth be filled withdust, and my face shaved only on one side as an object of ridicule forall liars, if I do not speak the truth. From a wise man, for sometimehave I been warned that Prasad Singh had evil designs upon my nose andears. That----"
The Rani interposed with angry impatience.
"Thy nose and ears, fool! What would the noble Prasad Singh care foranything that pertaineth to thy life or person. Did I not warn thee notto trespass upon my good nature with such nonsense"?
Bipin assumed an expression of wounded dignity, but replied withsubmission.
"Noble Rani, that is as may be; but the same wise man to make plain tome Prasad Singh's accursed designs led me this evening to a meetingplace, where, in seclusion, I heard Prasad discuss a plot to assaultthe palace to-morrow night. With six hundred, nay I believe it wassix thousand followers, he will put everyone to the sword, seize yourHighness's throne for himself, and, O great Lady, consign you forevermore to a fortress guarded by terrible monsters. And as for me, Onoble one, alas"! Bipin whined in terror. "In revenge for my fidelityto thee, my nose and ears are to be cut off and nailed to the palacegate, and my body," he groaned deeply, "O holy Kali, chopped in piecesand cast to swine. Alas! what a miserable fate lieth in store for allof us."
The Rani was about to reply when Ahmad interposed angrily.
"What is all this thou sayest of the noble Prasad Singh? Dost know thatthou art accusing a high and loyal prince of the vilest treachery.By the Prophet's beard! were it not that I regard thee as but a halfwitted fool, for such lies upon a friend, I would cut thee on the spotinto the pieces of which thou speakest."
He made an impulsive motion with his hand toward the hilt of his sword,but the Rani restrained him.
"Stay Ahmad," she enjoined. "Perchance somewhere in all this mass ofexaggeration there may lie a speck of truth. You must admit Prasad'sactions of late might warrant a measure of suspicion."
"Noble Rani," replied Ahmad in a tone of excuse. "That Prasad Singhmay have been guilty of youthful folly, that he has not paid duerespect to your exalted office and person, I will not deny; but thathe should harbor a single thought, far less attempt an act againstyour authority, I will swear it to be a lie upon the sacred book. Nay,more, I will defend his honor in such a matter, with my sword, againstwhoever may make the vile assertion."
"Ahmad," returned the Rani thoughtfully. "It is to thy credit thatthou dost behold Prasad only with the eye of a friend; but I possessmy own reason for searching further into this matter. Now Bipin,"she continued addressing the secretary impressively, "state plainly,and without resort to a riot of thy nervous fancy, what thou hastactually seen and heard. As thou tellest the truth thou wilt meet withrecompense, but if thou liest, I swear I will carry out the doom thoubelievest is in store for thee."
With numerous checks upon his tendency to wander from the main threadof his story, Bipin disclosed by degrees a full account of what hehad overheard at the window of the hut outside the city. In spite ofa strict cross examination on the part of the Rani and Ahmad Khan,he held steadfastly to two points, that it was Prasad's voice he hadundoubtedly heard in the treasonable discussion, and that in histerrified condition he had entirely forgotten the name of the wise manwho had conducted him to the spot.
Bipin's interrogation was brought finally to a conclusion. The Ranidismissed him with the assurance that he had acted wisely in herinterest, and might fear no evil from any direction.
"Well, my Lord," she asked of Ahmad. "What do you now think of this"?
"Truly, noble Lady," he replied, "my understanding is still unableto give credence to such a report. I cannot believe it of my friendPrasad, staying as he is under the shelter of my roof. By not a signor word has he intimated any such design to me. I thought him far toomuch consumed with the fair Ganga's charms to care for any project uponearth. Alas! one knows not what to think. So noble a fellow to fallinto such evil paths."
The Rani bit her lip and clenched her hands tightly to restrain theburst of jealous passion called to the surface of her nature by theMohammedan's insidious thrust.
"Noble Rani," petitioned Ahmad, "I beg thou wilt permit me to returnimmediately to my house. There, I will cautiously sound the noblePrasad on this matter, and if I find a grain of truth in the report, sodisplay to him the ingratitude, the wickedness of such thoughts, thatsurely will he express his sorrow and hasten to thy presence abjectlycraving pardon."
The darkness concealed a smile of supreme triumph on the Mohammedan'sface.
"As thou commandest, noble one," he replied in a voice of regretfulemotion. "I pray to _Allah_ that it may be proved this fool's witshave gone far wandering than that my friend doth contemplate suchinconceivable treachery. How doth the noble Rani purpose to actfurther"? he asked.
"That, Ahmad, I am considering," she replied.
She continued in a part soliloquy:
"If Prasad is bent upon this mischief, there is no doubt he will gatherto his side a following. Divide Bipin's last total in half, and therewould yet remain thirty unhanged rascals. Why should not I numbermyself as one of them"?
"But consider the danger, noble Lady," protested Ahmad. He wasastonished at the daring of the Rani's project.
"What care I for danger"? she returned in an off-hand manner. "Surelyyou, above all men, will not deny that in the peril of a desperatesituation, there lies more charm than can be gained from watchingyonder seductive _natch_."
"Aye for a man of arms, fair Lady. But thou art a woman."
"And a Maratha born," she answered significantly. "Forget not that, OAhmad. Not even yet dost thou know the Rani of Jhansi. By God's favorI will some day, perhaps, fight sword in hand on horseback with thebravest of you."
The dauntless spirit of her nature appealed to a counterpart in theMohammedan's character in a way that no other human quality could havedone. Though he realized it not, it was this force of her being thatheld him bound to her service, in a sense, a comrade, as much as he wasa lover.
He murmured a genuine tribute of his admiration.
"Truly, I will not say thee nay, brave Rani. But how then wouldst thouproceed. Surely thou wilt not go alone into this affair"?
"No," she resumed. "I do not intend Prasad to gain quite so muchadvantage. One against thirty would be too unequal odds to combat.With me, Rati, shall number another of these villains, and within thesummons of my voice, thou wilt hold my Valaiti bodyguard in someconvenient place of hiding. Such can be done, can it not, good Ahmad"?
"I know just such a place close to the tomb," he replied.
"Then it is well or ill," she replied, "whichever way we may regard it.To-morrow I, too, will keep an unexpected tryst with Prasad at the tombof Firoz Khan, and if he be there, as it hath been reported, the Raniwill herself determine how to deal with him. Come! let us return now tothe _natch_. Let no one suspect that anything hath gone amiss."
Ahmad paused with a gesture of appeal.
"May I not, O just Rani, say but one word for him who is my friend"?
"Nay, not one," she answered. "If he be found innocent he hathcommitted no offense against the Rani; if guilty, he hath well meritedhis punishment. Come"! she urged impatiently.
With dejected mien, Ahmad obediently followed.
When the natch was over, he strode hurriedly from the palace. He madehis way quickly to Mohurran Goshi's home, and called the astrologerfrom his slumbers.
"But a word with thee, learned Doctor," he whispered at the door. "Ourstar could not shine brighter. All goes well; but the Rani and one ofher women are to make two of Prasad's following. Dost understand"?
The astrologer intimated that he would look to the addition of two tothe original number, provided for the Hindu noble's purpose.
"Then good fortune to us all," concluded Ahmad. "The shadow of theaccursed Prasad vanishes as beneath the sun at noonday."
Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D'Arc of India Page 14
