'A row, of course.'
CHAPTER XII.
THE HADJI.
'The world is a small place, after all!' thought Colville, as he left the Colonel's bungalow behind him. 'Think of hearing here that anecdote of dear Mary's father from that old subadar! Well, well, "life," as some one says, "is a perpetual enigma, to which no theological system offers a satisfactory solution—against the reefs of which all philosophies break into foam and empty bubbles." But here are more than bubbles, by Jove! Now what is all this deuced row about?' he added, drawing his sword, on seeing before him the authors of the noise he had heard, engaged still in a wild and fierce mêlée.
This was in a sequestered part of the town, and near some of the ruins of houses shaken down by the earthquakes some forty years ago. One man was contending single-handed against no less than five, and in the clear starlight Colville could see the flash of their gleaming eyes, their set teeth, their dark and infuriated faces. The man assaulted wore an Afghan costume, a cloak, a kind of blouse with loose sleeves, and on his head a loonjee. The others had flowing garments and large turbans, and were armed with heavily-loaded clubs, against which the stranger was defending himself with no small dexterity with only a pilgrim's staff; for, by his wallet, gourd, and beads, he was evidently a hadji, who had become involved in a quarrel with some Wahabis, who, it seemed afterwards, had been mocking him for praying at the tomb of a Santon, and told him he should call on God, and on no imaginary saint, on which, he had proceeded at once to lay about him with his pilgrim's staff.
'To call a man a Wahabi,' says Sterndale, 'is, to nine-tenths of Englishmen in India, to call him a fanatic, a rebel, a sort of Mahometan fenian, one whom the police should take under special surveillance, and whose every action is open to suspicion.'
Like the English Puritans, they—in addition to deriding the intercession of saints—despoiled the mosques of their lamps and decorations, broke down all shrines, prohibited music and dancing, and smoking was denounced as a mortal sin; and now those whom Colville found himself opposed to would undoubtedly—but for his sword and revolver—have made short work of it with the unfortunate hadji.
He drove them back a few paces, and the hadji, while panting for breath, and streaming with blood from more than one contused wound, continued to revile them bitterly.
'Wahabis—accursed Wahabis!' he exclaimed, 'dare they speak to me? I am a Soonee, not a dog! I am not a Shiah, the follower of Ali, but an orthodox Soonee, like my forefathers, blessed be God and His Prophet! Wretches,' he added, with all the ferocious rancour of religion and race, 'your souls will yet defile hell!'
'Begone, and leave the man to go on his way,' said Colville, authoritatively, as he waved his sword, for he knew enough of Arabic and Hindostanee to understand what was said and the nature of the brawl.