Three days passed without news of any kind, dreary days to the two ladies, who devoted themselves, as in honour bound, to their unsatisfactory pursuits, and only emerged from the fort for their evening ride. The “gardens”—for the name which sounded ironical had by general consent been adopted as prophetic—boasted a nondescript erection of masonry which did duty as a band-stand; and here a band in process of making struggled painfully through various easy exercises and a mutilated edition of “God Save the Queen.” Lady Haigh and Penelope always halted their palkis dutifully in the neighbourhood of the band, and stepped out to walk and talk a little with Major Keeling and the other men. It was as necessary to appear here once a-day as on the sea-drive at Bab-us-Sahel, and if Major Keeling was in the town he never failed to show himself. Riding, fighting, building, surveying, planting, exercising his men, administering his district, he had ten men’s work in hand, and his only moment of leisure in the whole day was this brief evening promenade. Lady Haigh told him once that it was very good of him to devote it to social purposes. He replied gravely that it was his duty, the least he could do—then hesitated, and confessed that he did not dislike it, nay, that the thought of it sometimes occurred to him pleasantly in the intervals of his day’s labours, and Lady Haigh received the information with suitable surprise and gratitude.
When the watchman on the fort tower announced at last that Sir Dugald’s detachment was in sight, Major Keeling broke up abruptly the court he was holding, and rode out to meet him. As soon as details could be discerned through the haze of sand, he assured himself that the numbers were complete, and that no fighting had taken place; but Sir Dugald’s face, as he met him, did not bear any look of triumph.
“Well?” asked the older man sharply.
“The Amir absolutely refused to receive me until the morning after we arrived, and by that time Gobind Chand had turned up, of course. They make out that Gobind Chand’s proposal to you was inspired by his master, and intended to test your friendship.”
“I hope they were satisfied that it had stood the test?”
“Well, hardly. They said that if you were really friendly you would hand over to them some fugitive called the Sheikh-ul-Jabal.”
Major Keeling nodded his head slowly two or three times. “So that’s it, is it? Rather a neat plan, if my righteous indignation hadn’t knocked it on the head. But somehow I don’t fancy Wilayat Ali would care to suggest to Gobind Chand the idea of murdering him. And yet, if you got to Nalapur before Gobind Chand, how could he have managed to delay the audience until he had put things right with the Amir? Of course he may have anticipated my action, and left directions, but—— Who was your guide, after all?”
“Ferrers’ munshi, Mirza Fazl-ul-Hacq.”
“What!” Major Keeling smote his hand upon his knee. “That man, of all men? The very last—— How in the world——?”
“Is there any objection to him? Ferrers did not want to weaken his garrison, for the outlaw Shir Hussein is in the neighbourhood again, and he hopes to catch him. This man knows Nalapur well, and has friends in the city. Ferrers trusts him implicitly—with all that he has in the world, if you are to believe the Mirza himself.”