Complete Works of Talbot Mundy

by Talbot Mundy

  “You are mistaken. Rundhia, it is true, has tossed aside a hundred women. There are always such women, eager to spoil and corrupt. Rundhia well understands such women. And there are other, silly women who lose their heads and become moths in the flame of such men as Rundhia. They have received what they deserved: his contempt. That is life, Lynn. It is universal. There is no need to be modern to perceive that. Can one not be modern and perceive a greater truth: that a woman can make of a strong man anything whatever that she has the spirit to imagine?”

  “Do you call Rundhia strong?” Lynn retorted. “I know he can ride, and play tennis and — and nearly break a woman’s wrists! But can he take it? Do you know what that means? Has he inside courage?”

  “He is willful,” said the Maharanee, “and unscrupulous too, when he has set his heart on something. Only he will never truly injure anyone he loves. And what is willfulness but courage without guidance? She whom he loves can guide him.”

  “Maharanee dear, what are you driving at?” The Maharanee chose to aim her arrow in her own way. She ignored the question:

  “I am afraid for Rundhia, not of him. His cousin Jodha, who is a physical weakling and not worth a snap of anybody’s fingers, would be heir to the throne if Rundhia should die. However, Rundhia, except for nose-bleeds, is very healthy. Impulse has led him into indiscretions. What I fear is that another escapade or two may cause the British to exercise their treaty right to veto Rundhia’s succession.”

  “And if Jodha should die?”

  “Then there would be no heir. Kadur would become a part of British India. The throne would be escheated, as they call it. Lynn, you can save Kadur.”

  “I?”

  “Yes. Rundhia loves you. You, Lynn, you can make of Rundhia a ruler worthy of his race.”

  “But I am of a different race, Maharanee dear.”

  “Do you know how many European women have become the wives of Indian princes?”

  “I have heard of one or two. One reads of them now and then in the newspapers. Don’t most of them live in Europe? Parasites, spending other people’s money? I don’t know Europe. But I know me — just a little!”

  “Europe would ruin Rundhia,” said the Maharanee. “He yearns for Europe, because European women fascinate him and amuse him. He must stay here. And he needs you.”

  “For his collection? I’m a one-man woman,”

  Lynn retorted. “I’m romantic. You may not believe it, but I’m old-fashioned. I insist on a one-woman man. You’re not suggesting, are you, that Rundhia meets that test?”

  “Rundhia,” said the Maharanee, “has not been tested. He is like a racehorse that has not yet learned what racing is. A real test will prove Rundhia’s mettle. My dear, there was no law, nor even a custom, that obliged His Highness my husband to refrain from taking more than one wife. Legally a Hindu husband may have many wives, if he pleases. I see you smile, but I assure you he was not always the retiring, ceremonially minded man that you know. It has been a great grief to him that I am childless. But in spite of his ministers’ urging, I believe he has never even considered taking a second wife. It is the woman—” Lynn interrupted, grinning: “Aunty Harding could manage Rundhia. It would kill me to have to keep tabs on a man. She’d love it. I simply wouldn’t do it. If I loved him, that would be all the more reason for not spying on him. And if I didn’t love him, I wouldn’t marry him.”

  “I have never spied on His Highness my husband,” said the Maharanee. “And as for loving him, I never saw him until the day we were married. We have been companions — friends. He has learned to look to me for sympathy and such advice as I can give. We have learned to love each other. We have never had one quarrel — not one. Rundhia already loves you.”

  “Maharanee dear, are you making me a proposal of marriage? Why doesn’t Rundhia do it himself? I wish I had ten thousand dollars to bet you that you couldn’t persuade him to marry me! That isn’t Rundhia’s line. He might offer me money, if he had it; and jewelry, when he gets it; and perhaps a villa on the Riviera as long as his credit was good. But marriage? When Rundhia marries, he will have to be bought for a high price. And Rundhia won’t stay bought.”

  “He has the determination of a conquerer. And Lynn, he has made up his mind he will marry you.”

  “Maharanee dear, didn’t you make it up for him?”

  “Lynn, you are the one love of Rundhia’s life.”

  “Six or seven men told me that between San Francisco and Calcutta! Aunty chased them. It made me so angry I could almost have killed her. I can say no.”

  “Lynn darling, say nothing until you have thought. You haven’t had time to think. And you are naturally prejudiced at the moment, even though you are so magnanimous and don’t admit it. A greater magnanimity than yours I have seldom heard of. Lynn, the offer of a throne is not contemptible. Shall I write a note to Mrs. Harding saying you have accepted my invitation?”

  “Better let me tell her that,” said Lynn. “Aunty would blow up. She isn’t one bit pleasant when she’s angry. Say you’ve invited me. How would that be?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE Maharajah bleated like an old sheep. A lawyer in a black alpaca frock coat droned interminable arguments. Documents were produced. Expert witnesses committed artfully evasive perjury. Norwood sat at the foot of the long table, looked, listened, and made endless notes.

  They weren’t half through by lunch-time. They gave him tiffin in the palace, all by himself, in a silent room, where a clock ticked as loud as fork against plate and he caught himself eating in time to the hypnotic beat, thinking of diamonds. Curried mutton and rice. Whiskey and soda. Sweet cakes. Fruit. Coffee. A cigar. And then back to the Council room to listen to more arguments that were interrupted by the arrival of Rundhia’s Bengali physician, shepherding a servant who carried a big blue goblet on a plate.

  The Maharajah swallowed his tonic and immediately became less nervous. Then he asked, in English, presumably for Norwood’s benefit:

  “How is Mrs. Harding?”

  Norwood cared less than nothing about Mrs. Harding’s feelings at the moment, but he couldn’t help hearing the doctor’s answer:

  “She is not well. But I cannot persuade her to take medicine. She is petulant — very.”

  The Maharajah tried to seem incredulous of any lady’s petulance: “Convey my solicitude.” Norwood managed to escape from the conference soon after that. He was away on the horse before the sais woke up. He cantered to the Residency, where he had to wait in the office an exasperating fifteen minutes, until the Resident could be awakened from his afternoon snooze and could get tubbed and come downstairs.

  “May I see you alone, sir?”

  The Resident nodded. He didn’t appear to enjoy the prospect. They went into the darkened library, and Norwood sat in the same chair that Rundhia had occupied. He laid the black paper package of diamonds on the table:

  “Take a look at those, sir. I want to turn them over to you. I would like to get a receipt, and to make a statement in writing.”

  The Resident opened the envelope and poured the diamonds into his hand. He made a wry face and poured them back again:

  “Nine?”

  “I haven’t counted them.”

  “They look valuable. Where did you get them?”

  “I am not absolutely certain. I think they must have been slipped into my pocket, early this morning, by one of the unofficial representatives of the temple authorities, who met me by appointment, near the waterfall.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “Inviting myself for a visit of inspection of the mine. They met me to discuss it.”

  “And you say they dropped these in your pocket?”

  “I believe so. It’s a pretty obvious attempt to bribe me to write a report in their favor.”

  “But they said nothing? Not even a hint?”

  “One of them, I remember, did say he hoped my judgment wouldn’t be affected by worthless arguments. He rather dwelt on
the word worthless, but it made no special impression on me at the time.”

  “Very well, Captain Norwood, I will take your statement.” The Resident glanced at his watch. “You’re rather late with it. There seems to me to be needed some explanation why you didn’t give these to me when you called this morning.”

  “I didn’t know, at that time, that I had them in my pocket.”

  The Resident’s face was expressionless: “You had better be sure to include that in your statement. It’s credible, of course, in view of your record. But people might draw inferences. Don’t you think so?”

  “You suggest, sir?”

  “Nothing. I am offering advice. It might be inferred that you accepted these-diamonds and said nothing about them until you learned, let us say at the palace, that someone knew about it; and that then you hurried to me in a rather belated attempt to establish innocence. I am simply pointing out to you what might be inferred if you are not particularly careful.”

  Norwood stared at the package of diamonds. He thought a minute. Then he looked straight in the Resident’s eyes and spoke quite calmly:

  “You appear to me to be hinting. Had you heard about these before I brought them to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who was your informant?”

  “It was confidential.”

  “You suspect me of having accepted a bribe?”

  “I reserve my opinion.”

  “Very well, sir, you admit that someone accused me. I want the name of the informant. Otherwise I demand my arrest and a court martial.”

  “Keep your temper.”

  “I intended no offense to you, sir. But I have my career to consider. Obviously someone is trying to break me over this business. It’s a serious charge. I came to you at the first possible minute after I found the diamonds in my pocket. But the mere rumor of my having accepted a bribe might wreck my career. You know what suspicion can do to a man. As a matter of fair play I have a right to know who your informant is. How else can I scotch the accusation?”

  “How would you propose to scotch it?”

  “By having it out with your informant.”

  “You have already been reported to me for punching someone’s nose.”

  “Whose?”

  “My informant’s nose was bleeding.”

  “Very well, who was he? I have punched no one’s nose. Someone has been lying to you, about me. Surely I have the right to know who he is.”

  “Captain Norwood, on your word of honor, are you telling the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I inferred it. I forget the exact words. Prince Rundhia certainly intended me to understand that you had made his nose bleed.”

  “Oh. So it was Rundhia. I wonder how the devil Rundhia knew I had those diamonds.”

  “Well, did you call on Miss Harding this morning?”

  Norwood stared. He looked almost as if he had been punched in the jaw.

  “Yes,” he said, after a moment. “I called on Mrs. Harding to take her a bottle of fresh iodine. Miss Harding saw the diamonds when they fell from my pocket.”

  “Is it true that you have been paying her a lot of attention?”

  “No.”

  “You have not had words with Rundhia about her?”

  “Yes. I did tell Rundhia, last night after midnight, that if anything should happen to Lynn Harding, I would hold him answerable.”

  “Why should you have said that?”

  “Because I like her. I suspected Rundhia’s intentions.”

  “What did he answer?”

  “Told me to go to hell. We haven’t spoken to each other since.”

  “Well,” said the Resident, “I don’t know much about the Hardings. The aunt seemed to me a detestable woman. I haven’t met the niece. Rundhia more than suggested that you’ve fallen in love with the niece, and that you showed her the diamonds to make an impression.”

  Norwood snorted: “That would be a damned strange way of making love to a nice girl.”

  “Are you sure she is nice? Why should she have told Rundhia?”

  “I don’t believe she did. Rundhia lied, if you ask me. Perhaps a servant told him.”

  “Have you seen nothing that suggests to you that Miss Harding might be more or less in league with Rundhia?”

  “You mean, to ruin me?”

  “For any purpose. Have you ever heard of American title hunters? Does it occur to you that if Rundhia could prejudice the case against the priests by proving they had bribed a British officer, the decision might go against the priests? The diamond mine would become the property of the throne. The throne would be worth having. The heir to the throne would be worth marrying.”

  “I can’t imagine Lynn Harding considering that, sir.”

  “She is her aunt’s niece,” said the Resident. “I can imagine the aunt not only considering it but imposing her will on the niece. And you don’t know Rundhia as well as I do. Is the girl good-looking? Isn’t the aunt wealthy?”

  “My impression was, and is,” said Norwood, “that Lynn Harding is an inexperienced, damned nice girl, completely on the level but in serious danger of being badly fooled by Rundhia.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind. I said that before, you remember. Have you your own pen? Here’s paper. Better write your statement about this packet of diamonds.”

  “Just a moment, sir. This occurs to me. Is Rundhia exactly in good standing?”

  “No. Confidentially, speaking off the record, I took a recent occasion to warn him that one more indiscretion might endanger his succession to the throne.”

  “I suppose,” said Norwood, “it would be a great deal easier, and would cause a lot less trouble, to veto him now than to have to depose him later on, after he had come to the throne?”

  “Why, yes, certainly. Even the right of veto isn’t anything we like to exercise. To depose a ruling prince, after once having recognized his right to the throne — well, it has been done. But it isn’t good policy, if it can be avoided. You see, the alternative to Rundhia is Jodha, who is an invalid and likely to be childless. We might be accused of deposing Rundhia in order to grab Kadur. No. If Rundhia should succeed to the throne, his position would be fairly secure.”

  “Then isn’t it Rundhia’s cue to force the pace?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To succeed to the throne before there’s enough on the record against him to justify a veto?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “I’ve been noticing things.”

  “For instance?”

  “Mrs. Harding was taken remarkably suddenly ill last night, during supper.”

  “So I have heard. What of it?”

  “It suited Rundhia’s book. It provided a good excuse for getting Lynn Harding away from her aunt. Do you happen to have heard whether the Maharajah is drugging himself?”

  “No. Nothing serious, I believe. He’s a bit of a hypochondriac. He discharged his own doctor. Rundhia’s doctor, who is attending him now, took precautions. He called in a specialist to okay the prescription, and he gets the stuff from our dispensary in Delhi.”

  “He could change it when he gets here.”

  “Oh, I think that’s quite improbable.”

  “Well, sir, did Rundhia try to put pressure on you to arrest me for taking a bribe?”

  “He threatened to take his information elsewhere if I don’t do something about it.”

  “Any witnesses?”

  “No.”

  Norwood thought a minute. “If Rundhia should be planning a coup of some kind, don’t you think he’d be cunning enough to kick up a smoke screen?”

  “Rundhia is more impetuous than cunning,” the Resident answered.

  Norwood thought again, scowling, for half a minute. Then:

  “D’you think he’s sufficiently impetuous to try to kill several birds with one stone?”

  “He might be. He’s an impatient fellow — not at
all good at waiting for what he makes up his mind that he wants.”

  “If he could prejudice the case against the priests, by accusing them of having bribed me. And if he could break me for taking a bribe. And break you for knowing about it but doing nothing — there would be a scandal that might distract attention from whatever else he might be doing at the moment.”

  “I concede that,” said the Resident. “But if I report you as charged with having accepted a bribe, can you disprove it? If you could identify the Brahmin who, you say, put those diamonds into your pocket without your knowledge, he would say on the witness stand that you had demanded a bribe, and that he saw some unknown person hand it to you. How can you prove you didn’t know those diamonds were in your pocket? Can you?”

  “No,” said Norwood.

  “Stay away from the palace. Better wait until. Rundhia makes the first move.”

  “You don’t believe in taking bulls by the horns?”

  “Norwood, I had a premonition the moment you arrived, that that red hair of yours would set fire to things. We’re in a fine mess. It’s either you or Rundhia. It breaks you, if he can make his accusation good. Witnesses come cheap in Kadur. He could hire them by the dozen. But if he fails to make it good, I think I can guarantee you it shall break him.”

  “Hardly fair to me, is it, to compel me to sit still and be shot at?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “First, I’ll write that statement. Then I’d like to have a talk with Miss Lynn Harding.”

  “Stay away from the palace! Rundhia may be lying in wait to denounce you and have you warned off.”

  “The guesthouse is in the grounds, but it’s no part of the palace. I could get Miss Harding to come and talk to me there.”

  “What good can that do?”

  “No knowing. But I can find out whether I’m right or not that Rundhia lied when he said she told him. Prove that to begin with, and then perhaps I can prove something else.”

  “Well, go on. Write your statement.”

  Chapter Seventeen