The Indian Bangle

by Fergus Hume

"I, Alfred Carson, M.D., who relate to you this story, do most solemnly swear to you by all a Christian gentleman holds most sacred, that though stranger far than any fiction, it existed in fact, and that the relation of it here set forth--to which my signature is duly appended--is in each and every particular true. At the time these events occurred, I occupied the post of physician to the Rao of Kikat, which was an unconsidered kingdom in the Northern part of India. I say 'was' advisedly, for since the year of the Mutiny it has been absorbed in our Asiatic Empire. But in 1859--the date of the facts herein related--it was still an independent state, reigned over by Rao Singhapetty, it is true, but free and wealthy nevertheless. Still the Rao, in a small measure, was tributary to the H.E.I.C., and it was to release himself from a nominal payment that he engaged to take part in the great rising. To his folly in this respect this story is due.

"In those days, I was young, poor, rash, and ambitious, yet not without, I think, good parts, mental and moral. If I failed to control the one by the other, the blame for such must lie with Michael Trall. He was one of those rascally adventurers who then infested India, in the hope of becoming Nabobs; fertile in resource, of great courage, and one of the most unscrupulous scoundrels who ever played the part of Mephistopheles for the seduction of weaker spirits to ruin and crime. Whence he came I know not. I conclude his past life was too disreputable to be disclosed, but my knowledge of him dates from the year 1857, when he appeared at the Rao's court, and used his impudent arts to secure an ascendency over the mind of that weak potentate. There he came into contact with me, and with Bellairs.

"Mark Bellairs, my dearest and oldest friend, had come out to India with me. He was then in the army, but having quarrelled with his father, his allowance was cut off, and he was forced to sell out. I suggested that he should travel Eastward in my company, and turn his military knowledge to some account at the court of some petty Rajah. As there was nothing for him to do in England, he agreed to try his luck in the East, and together we arrived in Bombay, with no money, and great ambitions. Of our adventures I need not speak, as they have nothing to do with this story; but we wandered here, there, and everywhere, until Fortune brought us to Kikat. Here, as the Rao was in need of a resident physician, he engaged me, and afterwards, finding that Bellairs had been in the English Service, he placed him in command of his small army. I swear that before the meeting Bellairs and I were quite content with our positions. We had power, the salaries were large, and the Rao was our very good friend. In a few years we hoped to make our fortunes, and return wealthy, and honoured to the Mother country. But for Trall, we might have continued in the straight path, but, like the Belial he was, he drew us from it to earn money and lasting shame.

"I must admit that Trall was a most fascinating man. Handsome, strong, clever, full of conversation and tact, he had acquired complete power over Singha. Then, finding that we had no little say in matters of state, he set his clever wits to work for our conquest--not without success. No doubt, it was weak of us to yield, but the man had a tremendous strength of will, and a power of fascination which could control--and did control--all who personally came in contact with him. Remember, both Bellairs and myself believed him to be an honourable gentleman; and it was not until we were well entangled in his nets that he threw off the mask. Then it was too late.

"There is ever an exception to a rule, and an exception to the well-nigh universal popularity of Trall was to be found in the person of the Rev. Manners Brock, a missionary, who had engaged himself in the hopeless task of converting the Kikat heathen. The pleasant manners and simplicity of Brock made him a great favourite with us all; even the Rao liked him, in spite of his Christianizing propensities, and placed no barrier in his way with the people. Brock was candid almost to the verge of folly. He told us how he stood alone in the world, without parents or relatives; made us acquainted with all the details of his early life as a sizar at Oxford, as a poor London curate, and made a frank declaration of his 'call' to enlighten the idolaters of India. I knew Brock's life as well as I did my own, and felt great respect for his principles and zeal. Trall was studiously affable to him, and tried his hardest to fascinate him into obedience, but somehow Brock managed to avoid his snares. He kept out of Trall's company, undermined his influence with the Rao--which was exercised for no good, you may be sure--and altogether showed our Belial plainly that he considered him a rascal. Naturally, Trall grew to hate him, and would willingly have done him an injury, but as Singha protected the missionary, open warfare was out of the question. However, Trall watched his opportunity, and it came at last--the Mutiny with it.

"When all India blazed with fanaticism from north to south, Rao kept himself and his kingdom out of trouble, although he did not go so far as to side with the English. He adopted a neutral attitude, and no doubt would have maintained it to the end, but that Trall, ever at his elbow, persuaded him to revolt. Singha did not declare open war against the foreigners--he could scarcely have done so while an Englishman headed his army--but he tampered with the mutinous princes, corresponded with them, and declared that he wished to be rid of his tributary necessity. With devilish ingenuity, Trall conducted the whole intrigue, and kept urging Singha openly to declare himself. Bellairs and I protested at first, but in some way, I can hardly say how, Trall involved us in his schemes. What would have been the end of it, had the Rao taken the field, I hardly know, but he hesitated, and hung back until it was too late. The Mutiny was suppressed, and puppets at Delhi were driven into exile, and with them, Trall's hopes of becoming the Vizier of an Eastern king. For a while he raged furiously over his disappointment; then, making the best of a bad job, he began to look about him how best to turn the tide of affairs to his own advantage. It is at this juncture that Bellairs and I come into the story.

"The troubles at an end, Singha naturally wished to make his peace with the victors. It is true that he had not declared himself an enemy, but he had intrigued deeply; he had written compromising letters; and what with the knowledge of myself, Bellairs, and Trall, there was evidence ample to have him dethroned and exiled. He grew afraid of what might happen to him, and implored us all to help him. At this critical moment Trall showed himself in his true colours.

"I have mentioned the compromising letters, and treaties with mutinous Rajahs. Well, Trall had kept copies of these, and also possessed some of the originals. If these documents had been shown to the H.E.I.C. or to Sir Henry Lawrence, there is no doubt that they would have ruined the Rao beyond all hope of keeping his kingdom.

"Singha knew this, and so did Trall, so did Bellairs and I, for the letters were shown to us. Trall proposed to blackmail the Rao; we refused, and then it was he unmasked his batteries. The man--as we then discovered--was a skilful forger, and had signed our names to many of these letters, besides the actual signature of Singha. If he was guilty, we were also, and in a worse degree, seeing that, according to the forgeries, we were ready to massacre our own countrymen. It is impossible to explain how deeply we were involved; but Trall showed us clearly, that if we did not work with him, he could, and would, ruin us. The choice lay between ruin and crime, for in no way could we have proved our innocence. Trall had the letters and treaties, with the Rao's real signature, and the false ones of myself and Bellairs; he had provided himself with more than a dozen witnesses to swear that we were renegades to the British cause; he had entangled us in the political criminality of the Rao, and we saw very plainly that our lives were ruined should the documents ever reach the Governor-General. Bellairs and I took a night to choose between our ruin and crime. Next morning--I blush to set down the fact--we chose shame.

"Consider, I pray you, our position. Trall, as I have shown, had us completely in his power. Guiltless, we should have appeared guilty, and would have been punished and despised--perhaps shot by our own countrymen. No declaration of innocence would have done away with the forgeries. The evidence of our guilt as conspirators with the Rao against the H.E.I.C. was down in black and white, and only our word on oath contradicted it. We were--as the saying goes--in a cleft stick--mere pawns shifted on Life's chess-board by an unscrupulous intriguer. There was nothing for it but to obey Trall, if we wished to save our names from the world's knowledge as those of traitors and renegades. The devil and the deep-sea proverb applies to our position.