“Well, perhaps I am; but all the same, I wish he hadn’t! There’s consistency for you. And now to try and make Murtiza Khan understand what is required of him.”
The task set before the trooper was not a light one. He could have found his way to Sheikhgarh with tolerable ease from the direction of Alibad, but from this side of the hills he had only the vaguest idea of its position. It must lie somewhere in the maze of rocks and ravines to the north-east, that was all he knew, and he led his party up the nullah, which appeared to lead roughly in the desired direction. It turned and twisted and wound in the most perplexing manner, however, and it seemed a godsend when the figure of a man was discernible for an instant on the summit of the cliff. He disappeared as soon as he caught sight of the travellers; but the stentorian shouts of Murtiza Khan, promising safety and reward, brought him out of his hiding-place again, to peer timidly over the rocks. He belonged to a distant village, he said, and was seeking among the hills for three sheep that had been lost, and he could guide the party as far as the Sheikh-ul-Jabal’s outposts, beyond which he durst not go. Even with reward in view, he would not come down into the nullah, but took his way along the top of the cliff, often lost to view, and guiding the trooper by shouts. When at length he stopped short, demanding the promised coin, evening was coming on, and still there was no sign of human habitation to be seen, but only dry torrent-beds and frowning rocks. It chanced that Lady Haigh had a rupee about her—a most unusual thing in camp-life—and this was duly laid upon a rock indicated by the guide, who would not come down to secure it while the travellers were in sight.
It was not without some trepidation that Lady Haigh and Penelope saw that their path now dipped down into a deep ravine, bordered by dark overhanging cliffs; but they would not betray their fears before the natives, and went on boldly. As soon as they had set foot in the ravine, however, their ears were suddenly assailed by a tumult of sound. Shouts ran from cliff to cliff, and were taken up and returned and multiplied by the echoes until the air was filled with noise. Even Murtiza Khan was startled, and the grooms seized the ponies’ bridles and tried to turn them round. The ponies kicked and plunged, the trooper stormed, and his subordinates jabbered, while Lady Haigh tried in vain to make herself heard above the din. In vain did Murtiza Khan assure the grooms that what they heard was only the voices of the Sheikh’s sentinels, posted on the rocks above them; they swore that the place was bewitched, and that legions of evil spirits were holding revel there. Murtiza Khan was obliged to lay about him with the flat of his tulwar before they would let go the reins, and allow the ladies, whose position on the steep hillside had been precarious in the extreme, to follow him farther into the darkness. They yielded with the worst possible grace; and when the trooper, a few steps farther on, shouted back some question to them, only the dispirited voice of the grass-cutter answered him. The other two had fled. A little later, and even the grass-cutter’s heart failed him, as the twilight became more and more gloomy, and he slipped behind a projecting rock until the cavalcade had passed on, then ran back to the entrance of the ravine as fast as his legs could carry him. Lady Haigh suggested going back to find the deserters, but the trooper scouted the idea. The light was going fast, and to spend the night in this wilderness of rocks was not to be thought of. They must press on into the resounding gloom.
CHAPTER XXII.
TAKEN BY SURPRISE.
At last the ravine broadened a little, and almost at the moment when this became evident, voices were heard ordering a halt. It was difficult to tell where the voices came from, but presently the travellers distinguished a steel cap and a scarlet turban, and the barrel of a matchlock, among the rocks on either side of the path. Halting at the prescribed spot, Murtiza Khan entered into conversation with the sentries, requesting that word might be sent to the Sheikh of the arrival of the two ladies, who asked shelter for the night. A third man who was within hearing was summoned and despatched with the message, and the travellers resigned themselves to wait. The answer which was returned after a quarter of an hour had elapsed was not a gracious one. The Memsahibs and their attendant might enter if they pleased, but they must put up with things as they found them, and conform to the rules of the place. As the alternative was a night in the open, Lady Haigh accepted the offer, with considerable reluctance, and whispered to Penelope that if they were to be blindfolded on the way up to the fortress, they must go on talking to one another until the bandages were removed, to guard against any attempt to separate them. But this precaution was not called for. It was now quite dark, and three of the Sheikh’s men took the bridles of the ponies, and began to lead them along, without the assistance of any light whatever. The ladies and Murtiza Khan strained their eyes, but could not distinguish anything in their surroundings beyond varying degrees of blackness. Nevertheless, their guides seemed to have no difficulty in keeping to the path, although in some places, judging by the sound of the stones which rolled from under the ponies’ feet, it led along the verge of a tremendous precipice. After what seemed hours of this kind of travelling, the creaking of bars and bolts just in front announced that a door was being opened, and Murtiza Khan was warned to stoop. The gateway passed, they were led across the courtyard, and up to the steps of the keep, where two old women were holding flaring torches. Between them stood a boy of twelve or so, who came forward and salaamed with the greatest politeness.
“The Memsahibs are more welcome than the breaking of the rains in a thirsty season. This house is at their disposal. Let them say what they wish and it is already done. In the absence of the lord of the place, let them behold their slave in me.”
“Then the Sheikh-ul-Jabal is away?” said Lady Haigh, interrupting the flow of compliment. “And you are his son, I suppose?”
The boy answered as though he had not heard the second question. “The Sheikh-ul-Jabal and my brother Ashraf Ali rode away last night with thirty horsemen, to attend a sacred feast. My sister Wazira Begum and I are left in charge of the fortress, and I bid the Memsahibs welcome in her name.”
Accepting the assurance, the ladies dismounted, and the boy bustled about with great self-importance, sending one of the old women-servants to hasten the preparations for the guests’ comfort, giving the ponies into the charge of the men who had led them to be taken to the stables, and arranging that Murtiza Khan should be allowed to sleep in the great hall, so that his mistresses might feel he was not far off in case they needed protection. He had so much to do, and so many orders to give, that it almost seemed as if he was waiting as long as possible before introducing the visitors to his sister; but at last he appeared to feel that there was no help for it, and led the way resolutely behind the curtain, guided by the second old woman with her torch. In the first room to which they came, a girl was sitting on a charpoy. She had evidently put on her richest clothes, and her fingers and wrists were loaded with jewels; but her toilet was not complete, for she was so busy plaiting her hair that she had no leisure even to look at the visitors. An old woman who stood behind her was assisting in the hair-dressing, but apparently under protest, for her young mistress was scolding her energetically.
“O my sister, here are the Memsahibs,” said the boy, with considerable misgiving in his tone, when he could make himself heard.