“Rather it would have convinced them that I was letting out a pestilence on the country,” said the doctor; “and they would simply have gone away and died of fright, which would be clear proof that I was their murderer. I think we are safer with the bottles unbroken.”
“I never like fooling about with supernatural nonsense in these countries,” said Sir Dugald. “It gives the people a handle, and they are not likely to be slow in taking it. As we four are alone together, I may give you a hint that I expect trouble before long. Things have been going too smoothly of late, and Kustendjian tells me that Hicks said to him yesterday, ‘Your old man has squared Fath-ud-Din nicely up to now; but what will he do when the bill comes in? He ought to know by this time that the man who calls for the drinks pays.’ I cannot flatter myself, unfortunately, that I have squared Fath-ud-Din; but if he considers that I have attempted to do it, it is quite on the cards that he will send in his bill. We can refuse payment, of course; but I am afraid that will not better our position very much.”
The justice of Sir Dugald’s words was recognised a little later, after another mysterious evening visit from Fath-ud-Din. The Vizier came to the Mission because he wished to know when his rival was to be permanently removed from his path. He had done all in his power to smooth the progress of the negotiations; but Sir Dugald had made no attempt to accuse Jahan Beg to the King or to demand his extradition. The answer was simple. Sir Dugald had declared his readiness to demand the surrender of Jahan Beg if it could be proved that he was in exile in consequence of any crime committed on British territory; but not a vestige of evidence that such was the case had been brought forward, and it was impossible to extradite him merely for the sake of pleasing the Grand Vizier. On hearing this, Fath-ud-Din flew into a transport of rage, and, from the words he let fall in his anger, Sir Dugald gathered that he had been expected to be prepared with a case against Jahan Beg, and false witnesses to support it, in return for the Vizier’s help. This was a little too much even for Sir Dugald’s self-control, and, in the few minutes that followed, Fath-ud-Din probably heard a larger number of home-truths, delivered in a cold, judicial voice that was more effective than any amount of shouting, than he had ever done before in his life. Baffled and disappointed, the Minister left the Mission, muttering curses between his teeth, and was observed by Kustendjian to pause outside and shake his fist at the building, and to spit towards the flagstaff on which the Union-jack was wont to be hoisted in the outer courtyard. From which signs the discerning Armenian inferred, as Mr Hicks had done before him, that there was trouble brewing.
CHAPTER IX.
STRAINED RELATIONS.
On the following morning there was no change to be observed in the aspect of the Mission. Only the gentlemen of the party were acquainted with the fact of the Vizier’s sudden declaration of war, and they shared Sir Dugald’s opinion that it would be bad policy to allow Fath-ud-Din to see that his threats had any effect upon their minds. The great gates were therefore opened as usual to allow the customary throng of country-people and other sellers of fresh provisions to enter and hold their market in the outer court, and the flag, hoisted at sunrise, floated proudly from its staff in front of Bachelors’ Buildings.
Fitz Anstruther left the Mission early that morning on an errand of his own. He had set his heart on getting Miss Keeling a Persian kitten in the bazaar, and immediately after disposing of his chota hazri he induced the interpreter to come out with him and assist him in making his purchase, as, although he had succeeded in making an Ethiopian audience understand his scientific lecture, he felt a well-grounded distrust of his own powers of conducting a bargain in the currency of the country. The absence of the two was soon discovered; but although Sir Dugald testified some displeasure when he found that Kustendjian was not at hand to go on with the drafting of the treaty, no anxiety was felt as to their safety, since none of the staff had hesitated to walk or ride about the city without an escort after the first week of their stay there.
It was considered advisable to take no notice of the Vizier’s visit, and to exhibit a readiness to continue the negotiations as before, and therefore Sir Dugald and his staff assembled as usual in what was called the Durbar-hall, a large airy room on the ground-floor of Bachelors’ Buildings. Here they awaited the appearance either of Kustendjian or of an emissary from the Palace, Dr Headlam lingering for a talk before departing to his expectant patients opposite. He had just heaved a sigh and taken up his helmet, preparatory to seeking his own domain, when a distant sound, gradually increasing in volume, broke upon the ears of those in the room. It might have been rolling thunder, or the roar of wild beasts, or the rush of a torrent; but there was no reason why it should be any of these. Sir Dugald raised his head and listened attentively.
“I have heard that in the Mutiny,” he said. “The town is up about something, and they are coming in this direction. Have you all your revolvers here, gentlemen?”
Each man produced his weapon promptly, and Sir Dugald led the way out on the verandah, the whole party holding their breath to listen to the sound. The servants had noticed it also, and were standing about in the courtyard with pale faces, listening intently. Some, as the noise grew nearer, crept back to their own quarters in terror, the rest gathered in a group and looked to their masters for orders.
“Turn all those Ethiopians out,” said Sir Dugald, pointing to the salesmen and women who had been exhibiting their wares in the courtyard, “and shut the gates.”