That is sound sense,’ Hickey agreed. ‘Make yourself comfortable in the library while I see some of my people. They shall start enquiries at once and I’ll be much surprised if by morning they cannot tell us the name of the man who has enticed Clarissa from you and where he has taken her.’
In that Hickey proved over optimistic. That night, after several wretched hours of soul-searching and self-reproach, Roger had fallen into a heavy sleep. From it he woke refreshed, and came downstairs filled with impatience to set off in pursuit of Clarissa and her seducer; but to his chagrin he learned that Hickey had no definite news to give him.
Over breakfast the lawyer made his report. His agents confirmed that Clarissa’s companion was a man of wealth and evidently of some importance, as an escort of half a dozen mounted men, a second palanquin and two extra teams of bearers had been waiting not far from the house to join his palanquin and pack-horses. He was a bulky man wearing a grey wig and, instead of riding alongside her, as a younger man would have done, he had himself carried with her in the palanquin. Only Roger’s servants had seen him and, from their somewhat conflicting descriptions, Hickey could not identify anyone he knew; moreover, the trappings of the palanquin were unlike those of any belonging to a resident of Calcutta. This, and his having been accompanied by armed retainers, suggested that he had come from up country; a theory that was strengthened from the party’s having crossed the Hooghly by the ferry to Ghoosery, which they would not normally have done unless they were heading away from the city. Yet this slender clue served only to deepen the mystery for, if Clarissa had had any wealthy acquaintances living up-country, Roger felt sure he would have known of them, and he was positive that she had none.
They were still puzzling over the problem when word was brought in that another of Hickey’s agents was asking to see him. He went out to the man, then rejoined Roger a few minutes later with a few items of more definite information. The agent had traced the palanquin to the village of Andul about seven miles west of Calcutta. It had passed through the village at about half past seven on the Friday evening, and the horse of one of the escort had cast a shoe; so he had remained behind there while it was being re-shod. The village smith had taken no particular interest in the man, but he stated that the escort had been composed of Bahnas, and that, on leaving, the warrior had galloped off after the palanquin along the road that led to his own country.
‘Banna,’ Roger frowned. ‘The name is vaguely familiar to me, but no more. Where is it?’
‘It is a small state sandwiched between the two great ones of Bihar and Orissa, and some hundred and sixty miles from here.’
‘Is it controlled by the Company?’
‘Yes and no,’ Hickey hesitated. ‘That is to say, the Company has a treaty with its Rajah by which he gave them certain trading and revenue rights in return for an alliance and our protection against the aggressive Maratha Princes. But that was in Mr. Hastings’s time; today, I would not count the treaty worth the paper it is written on.’
‘Why so? Do you imply that the present Governor’s policy being peace at any price, he would not honour it?’
‘Precisely. Look what happened in the case of the Deccan. We had a similar treaty with the Rajah of Travancore. When he was attacked by Tipoo Sahib, Lord Cornwallis, who was Governor General at that time, went to his assistance. Tipoo was defeated. My Lord Cornwallis took his two sons as hostages, then pacified the whole of south and central India by guaranteeing the Nizam of Hyderabad also against attack. Two years ago Tipoo’s sons were returned to him. By way of thanks, he promptly threatened to invade the Deccan. The Nizam at once appealed to Sir John Shore for assistance. Our lily-livered Governor refused it and left him to his fate. Tipoo then sent his hordes against the Nizam, defeated him and annexed a great part of his territories. Thereafter, the Nizam put the training of his own army into the hands of Frenchmen and, in every state in India, the British name became mud. Since Sir John would not lift a finger to honour our bond with the Prince who rules over more subjects than any other in India, you may be sure that he would not involve himself in a war on behalf of a little state like Bahna.’
‘You mean, then, that the Company no longer has any influence with its Rajah?’
‘I do; even though it be on the very border of Bengal. I tell you, Roger, should the Company maintain this Bible-punching fellow Shore in office for another five years, we are like to lose all India. Only a strong policy can keep these turbulent native Princes down. Even this youngster who is now Rajah of Bahna regards us with contempt. The old Rajah, his father, died something over a year ago. There was owing to the Company twelve lakhs of rupees on account of revenue collection and administrative services. The young Prince refused to pay and sent the Company’s officials packing. Instead of taking instant action, Sir John havered for months, and it was no more than six weeks ago that he brought himself to send a regiment of sepoys up to Bahna; but, even then, their commander had orders only to remonstrate, so nothing has come of it.’
‘By God, I have it!’ Roger sprang to his feet. ‘I remember now the connection in which I heard of Bahna. The commander of the regiment was a man named Gunston—Colonel George Gunston. He and I have been enemies all our lives. He would go to any length to spite me; and he knew Clarissa in Martinique. He made a set at her there and as I was married at the time I was in no situation to spike his guns. She told me that she rated him crude in his amorous advances and liked him only for his high spirits. But who can say if she was speaking the truth? He is just the type of virile fresh-faced bounder that appeals to many women. And you know how they’ll lie about one man to please another. Perhaps matters may have gone further between them than I supposed in the short time before I had sound official reasons for ordering him out of the island. Perhaps the truth is that she regretted seeing him go. She was young and impressionable then, and must have come to think of the love she had for me as hopeless. Perforce we resumed our acquaintance with him when he arrived recently in Calcutta, and it may be that before going up country he saw her a number of times unknown to me. Perhaps they have been carrying on a secret correspondence. She could have let him know in advance that I meant to spend the week-end with you at Chinsurah. He is a heavy thickset man and, no doubt, wore a grey wig over his red hair so that I should not recognise him from the servants’ description. It must have been him; it must! Clarissa would never have gone off with some man she hardly knew.’
As Roger ceased his furious tirade, Hickey nodded. ‘I think you have hit upon it. I’ll vow that had she been having an affaire with anyone in Calcutta it would have come to my ears. But the re-appearance on the scene of a former lover, and one who has not been in the city for the past month or more, provides a logical explanation to our riddle. The fact that Colonel Gunston has been stationed up in Bahna, and that Bahna warriors were used as an escort in carrying her away, seems to clinch the matter.’
Roger put his face in his hands and groaned. ‘I would have wagered my whole fortune against Clarissa’s deceiving me. That she should have done so with an oaf like Gunston fills my cup to over-flowing.’
Suddenly he looked up, and went on, with a menacing scowl. ‘But he shall not enjoy his triumph for long. I’ll see to that. Did he love her there might be some justification for his act. But I’ll vow that’s not the case. I know the man. He’ll treat her no better than a light-o’-love, and has pursued this scheme mainly to have the laugh of me. He’ll laugh no more, though, when I confront him. By wrecking Clarissa’s happiness and mine, he has signed his own death warrant.’
‘You imply that you intend to go in pursuit of them,’ Hickey said. ‘If so you’ll need an escort. To my regret my age, and the accursed attacks which sometimes suddenly prostrate me as a result of the stone, debar me from riding with you; but I’ll have one of my people enrol a troop of good fighting men and a guide who is conversant with the road to Bahna.’
Thanks, Will, for your offer,’ Roger smiled bleakly. ‘Of course, I
mean to hunt them down. But it is now Tuesday morning, and they left on Friday night. From their having a palanquin apiece and relief teams of bearers, it’s clear that they mean to travel fast; it is as good as certain they will be back in Bahna before I can catch up with them. Nothing would have pleased me better than the chance to attack them on the road; but it would be suicide for me to attempt to pluck Clarissa from Gunston with only a dozen or so men against his regiment. I must rely on calling him personally to account; and at least he is no coward. Besides, did he refuse my challenge, he would be shamed before Clarissa. He must fight or lose her. So all I’ll need is a guide and a couple of good men with led horses.’
As soon as they had finished breakfast, Hickey went off to make the arrangements, and knowing Roger’s impatience to set out he made certain that his orders should be executed without the lethargic delays so usual in the East. By ten o’clock a reliable guide named Tej Mewár was at the door with two well-armed companions, and led horses on which were packed a tent, stores, and other equipment which might be needed on the journey. Roger, meanwhile, had ridden out to his house to change into travelling clothes and collect a small portmanteau with his belongings. At a quarter past, Hickey wished him good luck, and he rode away wretchedly miserable but fully confident in his ability to bring Gunston to book before the week was out.
The little cavalcade first crossed the river to Howrah, then took the road south-west to Ulubaria, as that was the direct route to Bahna; but Roger did not halt to make enquiries there, as the party he was pursuing had passed through Andul, so would not have struck the main road to Bahna until considerably further west.
Ten miles farther on, at the town of Bagnan, he did get Tej Mewár to enquire, while his party rested their horses for an hour and had a meal, but none of the inn people had seen the palanquins. As they would have passed through after dark, that was not surprising, and the same applied at Panskura which they reached late in the evening. By then they had covered forty miles; so although he would have liked to push on, he knew that he would regret it later if he did not give the horses a good night’s rest. The town caravanserai would, he felt sure, be riddled by bugs; so he put up his men and stabled the horses there, but had the tent erected for himself in the garden, and spent another miserable night.
Next morning they were off soon after dawn and reached Debra by eight o’clock. There again, no one could be found who had seen the palanquins, and Roger began to fear that he was on the wrong track; for it was quite possible that, as Gunston’s regiment was not on active service, he had not returned to Bahna, but had taken Clarissa to some other place up country in a totally different direction. But by half-past ten they reached the considerable town of Midnapore and, to his great relief, learned at the principal inn that Gunston’s party had had a meal there on Sunday evening.
Knowing the pace at which a double team of bearers, each eight strong, could travel with a palanquin, and the staying powers of such specially-trained natives, Roger was not surprised that they had got so far in some forty-eight hours; and it confirmed his belief that Gunston would reach Bahna at least a day ahead of him, as both parties would have to stop now and then for a few hours’ sleep. Nevertheless, to reduce the time of agonised waiting until he could confront Gunston, he pressed on hard all day, halting only at Jhargram and Chakulia to rest the horses and snatch meals.
At both places they picked up news of Gunston, and again at Raghunathpur, where his party had arrived late on Monday night. Roger reached the latter township on Wednesday evening, but after their arduous day both his men and horses were done up; so, as he had to halt there for the night, when he set off again at dawn on Thursday Gunston was still two days ahead of him.
From Raghunathpur they took a road that led south and in a few miles came to the village of Kokpada, which lay on the east bank of the broad Subarnarekha. Its waters were not yet in flood, so there was no difficulty about their being ferried across it; but on the far side of the river they entered very different country.
Ever since leaving Calcutta they had been riding across the western part of the great plain of Bengal, with its fertile soil and teeming population. The roads had been dusty but only slightly undulating and, for the most part, straight. As long as daylight lasted, they had never been out of sight of a hamlet or group of rickety farm buildings; while the ryots working in the fields, naked but for a loin-cloth and turban, women with water-jars or bundles on their heads, shouting children and strangely humped oxen, which they had passed, could be numbered by the thousands. But at the river, the plain ended. Beyond it there were low foothills, then more rugged country with stony crags and precipitous gorges. Only patches here and there on the less steep hill-sides were cultivated, few bullock-wagons were to be met with on the sharply curving roads, and a solitary goatherd was usually the only figure to be seen in this much harsher landscape.
By midday they reached Paruli and by evening Bahalda, having covered little more than half the distance that they had on the previous day. At neither place could they find anyone who had seen Gunston’s party go through, which disquieted Roger somewhat; but Tej Mewár assured him that they were taking the quickest road to Bahna and should reach the city by the following night.
On the Friday they came down through the mountains to Boalda, and Roger’s fears that Gunston might have taken some other direction were stilled by learning that his party had breakfasted there the day before; so they had doubtless arrived in the city of Bahna the previous evening. Soon after leaving Boalda, Roger and his three companions crossed another river, the Kharkai. By mid-morning they were on its far side up in another range of mountains and making their way through a pass that led into the little state of Bahna. Late in the afternoon they came to a forked gorge with a small stream running through it, and dismounted to water their horses. It was there that swift and unexpected disaster fell upon them.
From somewhere up in the crags a single long-drawn note sounded on a horn. Instantly it was followed by the thunder of horses’ hooves, wild shouting, and confused echoes from the surrounding rocky defiles. Down both forks of the gorge ahead, and from behind as well, groups of white-clad, turbaned horsemen converged upon Roger’s little party.
They had no time to mount; hardly time to draw their weapons. Before they could even get back to back, the three troops of native warriors had met and formed a swirling cloud about them so dense that it shut out the sight of the hills and gorges. Close beside Roger one of his men went down with a shriek, pierced through the chest with a lance that, from the force of the thrust, protruded nearly a foot behind his back. Of the others Roger temporarily lost sight while striving to defend himself. He shot at one warrior with a pistol he had snatched from his holster, and had the brief satisfaction of seeing him roll from his saddle. Throwing the empty pistol in the face of another he whipped out his sword. As he lunged upward with it, the weapon was nearly struck from his hand by the fierce sweep of a weighty scimitar. At the same instant, a hand from behind seized him by the hair. With a violent jerk of his head, he freed himself, ducked under his horse’s belly and came up the other side. As he did so he nearly tripped over Tej Mewár’s body. He caught a glimpse of the guide’s head; it was almost unrecognisable, having been cloven in two halves from crown to chin. Again Roger lunged with his sword at the nearest of the yelling mob of dark-faced horsemen, but again his slender blade was beaten down. Next moment he received a blow on the back of his head that sent him reeling. He fell to his knees. Before he could get back on his feet, two natives had flung themselves off their horses and seized him from behind. His wrist was twisted until he was forced to let go his sword and his arms were swiftly bound behind his back.
In another few minutes the din, and the cloud of dust kicked up by the melée, had subsided. Still dazed by the blow on the back of the head, Roger looked about him. His other escort had survived the fray, but was held between two of the attackers. A tall man mounted on a fine black charger, and wearing a bright
red sash, who seemed to be their leader grunted an order. To Roger’s horror one of the men who was holding the prisoner promptly drew a curved dagger and slit the poor fellow’s throat from ear to ear.
For an awful moment Roger’s anger and disgust were mingled with fear that a similar fate was about to overtake himself. But swiftly his reason told him that he was the prize that the ambush had been set to catch. That explained why care had been taken during the scrimmage not to do him serious injury; these fierce-looking hill men were a band of robbers and meant to hold him to ransom.
Within the next five minutes he had abandoned that idea and come to quite a different conclusion. During that time, with his arms still bound behind him, he had been lifted into his saddle and one of his captors had taken the bridle of his horse; the led horses and the mounts of his dead escort had been rounded up, and the man wearing the red sash had shouted a number of staccato orders. As a result, the thirty-odd horsemen had formed up with military precision, two abreast in a long column, having Roger about halfway down it. The butts of their lances were now stalled so that they stood upright, their bright pennants fluttering in the gentle breeze above the men’s heads as they moved off after their leader up the wider of the two gorges. Roger saw now, too, that the flowing white habits of the men, their turbans and accoutrements had a definite similarity, which was as near to uniform as native cavalry ever came. Suddenly it flashed upon him that he had been captured not by brigands but by troops.
For that there could be only one explanation. Gunston must have realised that the golden-haired Clarissa would be easy to trace, and that on Tuesday Roger might set out in pursuit of them. He had known that by driving his bearers hard he could easily get back to Bahna before Roger could catch him; but on arrival he had taken precautions against Roger’s coming upon him unexpectedly there, perhaps by night. To make certain of not being surprised at a disadvantage, he had sent out a troop of cavalry to lay an ambush and, if his old enemy did appear, capture him before he reached the city.
The Rape of Venice Page 27
