“My dear Dick,” solemnly, “nothing would induce me to go, under any circumstances.”
“Not if I told you that it was my wish?” tenderly.
“If you are wise, Dick, you won’t attempt to bring into play in this case any authority you may imagine that you possess,” warningly; “nor in any other case in creation, either,” interjected Mr Hicks, sotto voce.
Thus it happened that Mr Hicks started on his journey alone, and that the ladies formed part of the procession which filed out of the Khemistan gate of Kubbet-ul-Haj about a week later. A comfortable litter, carried by two mules, had been procured for Sir Dugald, but only the household servants were aware of the nature of his illness, or knew how completely it incapacitated him for ordinary life, and Ismail Bakhsh and his subordinates formed a bodyguard round the litter. It was their business to keep any idea of the truth from reaching the camel-men and mule-drivers, who were regarded with a certain amount of suspicion on account of their long separation from the rest of the party. One or two of the servants who had originally accompanied the Mission from Khemistan had died during the interval; several, according to the testimony of their jailers, had succeeded in making their escape, and the places of these had been filled up by Ethiopians, so that it was just as well to allow them to imagine that although the terrible Envoy was so ill as to be unable to mount his horse, and must be carried in a litter like a woman, yet he still directed the course of affairs, and gave orders which Stratford merely carried into effect. Jahan Beg accompanied the travellers for the first few miles of their journey, and parted from them on the crest of a rise from which the first view of Kubbet-ul-Haj could be obtained by those approaching the city.
“I wish I could have gone with you as far as the frontier,” he had said to Stratford, “but I daren’t leave the city just now. I believe I am on the brink of discovering a very neat plot between the Scythian agent, who ought to be across the border by this time, but is supposed to be detained by illness at a village only a day’s journey off, and Fath-ud-Din’s adherents. I think I have tracked nearly all the participators, and when I am ready I shall give them a surprise. The plan is, of course, to get rid of me and destroy the English treaty. By the way, I hope you are careful of your copy. Accidents will happen, and if that should be stolen or destroyed, it would be a big score for them. If you should chance to be detained anywhere by sickness or a difficulty in obtaining provisions, you will do well to send on some one you can trust, with ten or twelve well-armed men, to make a dash for Rahmat-Ullah, and put the treaty in safety. Our copy, of course, is safe as long as I am, but no one can tell how long that will be. All Fath-ud-Din’s fortresses are refusing to yield except to force, which is another thing that makes me think they anticipate a speedy return to the old state of affairs, and I shall be obliged to send Rustam Khan with the army to reduce each one in turn. You will have to pass not far from two of them; but if your guides are trustworthy and know their business, they ought to take you by without even coming in sight of them. One of the forts ought to be mine, which makes its resistance all the more irritating. Fath-ud-Din did me out of it with the help of some devilry practised by the old witch whom he keeps to get rid of his friends for him. Perhaps I shall get it back now. Well, good-bye; keep an eye on your guides and a tight hand over your men and the escort, and when you get the welcome you deserve at home, don’t quite forget the man who disappeared.”
He shook hands with the rest of the party, and turned away abruptly to begin his ride back to the city. As Georgia looked after him, something of pity rose in her heart. After all, the only tragedies in Kubbet-ul-Haj were not those of the older women with their woful past, and Nur Jahan with her comfortless future. There was tragedy also in the story of the man who for life’s sake had given up all that ennobled life, and who had gained so much that he found was valueless, and lost so much that he now knew was invaluable. Alone in the great cruel faithless city, his only memorial of the visit of his friends the rough tablet which marked Dr Headlam’s grave, his only trustworthy companion the wife whose love he had slighted, his daily occupation the search after any means by which he might succeed in maintaining his position on the slippery height he had reached—there was little reason to envy Jahan Beg.
The march which now began was by no means devoid of incident, but during the first few days, while the caravan was still in touch with the city, everything went well. It was when the dried-up pasture-lands and the scattered villages had all been left behind, and only the sands of the desert were to be seen on every side, that the troubles of the Mission began again. Their commencement was marked by a small but alarming mutiny among the escort of irregular cavalry, who accused their captain of appropriating to his own use half of the bakhshish promised them as a reward for their services, which had been handed over to him at the beginning of the journey for distribution among his troopers. It had been arranged that each man should receive the remainder of his share when Fort Rahmat-Ullah was reached, but they demanded that it should be paid down immediately, if they were to escort the Mission any further. To yield to this attempt at extortion was manifestly impossible, since there was nothing to prevent the men’s demanding extra gifts until the travellers were bereft even of the necessaries of life; but nothing less than a complete surrender to their wishes would satisfy the mutineers. The English met informally in Stratford’s tent to consider the situation (it was early in the morning, and the preparations for the day’s march were interrupted by this untoward event), and admitted to their councils the Ethiopian captain, who had brought the news that the men refused to move until their demands were conceded.
“If we don’t stop this at once,” said Dick, “things will get serious. Stratford, I should be glad if you would leave the matter to me to deal with.”
“By all means,” said Stratford; “but what do you intend to do?”
“Make an example of the chaps that are stirring them up,” said Dick, grimly, taking out his revolver and making sure that all the chambers were loaded.