The Path to Honour

by Sydney C. Grier

"The treasury!" he cried breathlessly.

"'Pon my word, that's it. Unless—I told you how they broke into the passage, you know, and after the treasure was got out, Sher Singh ordered the place to be destroyed."

"D'ye think he did it, Bob?"

"I don't, if you ask me. I think it was a do."

"Exactly, and he has secured himself a comfortable underground retreat, with two exits, both of which are known to us. We shall catch him like a rat in a trap, if we keep our own counsel."

"I believe you, my boy! And now, what's your mature opinion of your plan for showing up Speathley? Ain't it ray-ther better to cover yourself with glory by producing the missing Sher Singh than by indulging a revengeful temper to put it out of your power to capture him? Old boy, he can't keep you out of despatches then! And the best of it is that you and I must do the thing all on our own hook, for the very good reason that we are both sworn not to reveal the secret of the treasury to a soul. We shall have to take Rukn-ud-din and Amrodh Chand into our confidence as far as the preliminaries go, and they'll be delighted to help, but they must understand that the thing itself is a Sahibs' job."

"Don't forget that the whole thing depends on Rukn-ud-din's being right in saying that Sher Singh never left the city."

"Oh, don't buck.[1] Of course he's right," said Charteris rudely. And as time went on, it became clearer to the two young men that Rukn-ud-din was right. True, the garrison of Agpur made great capital of the escape across the flooded river, and were continually condoling with the besiegers on the slowness of their horses, or prophesying great results from Sher Singh's personal influence in raising up sympathisers in the north. It was quite evident that they meant it to be believed that Sher Singh was not in the city, but the actual news from the north did not support them. Lieutenant Ronaldson sent word that an emissary from Sher Singh, sent to stir up his tribesmen against the English, had unfortunately just slipped through his fingers, but though intrigues were heard of in abundance from various quarters, there were no tidings of the Rajah himself. Meanwhile, the slow progress of the siege continued, until it received a sudden acceleration by means of a lucky shot from a howitzer, which dropped into the enemy's chief magazine, and blew it up. After this, events came in quick succession. The Agpuris were driven first from their various positions outside the city walls, then from the suburbs, and a rough road was levelled through the ruins, that the guns might be brought to bear upon the palace fortress itself. For the whole of one day they pounded at the walls which Partab Singh had constructed as the aid to his ambitious designs, and at night it was pronounced that the breach was practicable for the next day. But in the morning a flag of truce came out, borne by old Sada Sukhi, a persona grata on account of his loyalty to Nisbet and Cowper, and it was announced that the garrison, commanded in the absence of the Rajah by the Diwan Dwarika Nath, desired to surrender. Before any terms could be granted, it was required that Sarfaraz Khan and a number of others known to have been concerned in the murder of the two Englishmen should be handed over, and this was done, though merely the dead body of the treacherous captain of the guard, who had poisoned himself with a drug concealed in the hilt of his sword, could be carried out to the conquerors. A parley between Sada Sukhi and the political officer with the force settled the terms of surrender for the fighting men and the civil inhabitants, the cases of any who might hereafter prove to have taken an active part in the murders being specially reserved, and the remains of the Agpur army marched out, and were duly disarmed.

Much curiosity was evinced by the British troops forming part of the besieging army as to the fortress which had held them at bay so long, and Gerrard, wandering through the place when the transfer of authority was complete, felt a sense of desecration when he discovered several privates, looking, in their tight scarlet tunics, stiff stocks and heavy shakos, most incongruously uncomfortable, taking their ease on the divan in the tower where he had sat with Partab Singh. Others were trying to paddle the deaf and dumb man's boat about the lotus-covered tank, their adventures affording high delight to their comrades on the shore, and others again were teasing the wild beasts in the menagerie. The first troops marching in had found the palace strewn with valuable stuffs and other treasures, but these had now all been collected and placed under guard, as were the women's apartments, and there was nothing left to tempt the cupidity of the soldiers, though they found a good deal that was capable of injury, and promptly injured it. The Residency, in which Gerrard had passed so many lonely days, was badly knocked about, and strewn with the dishonoured remnants of Nisbet and Cowper's belongings. Evidently Sher Singh and his adherents had wreaked their vengeance even upon the house where the murdered men had lived, for the place was little more than a ruin. In the enclosed garden, where he had dreamt of seeing Honour walking, Gerrard came upon the political officer, whom he knew well as one of Sir Edmund Antony's most trusted lieutenants.

"Glad to see you, Gerrard. Curious you should have come upon me just here. Wasn't it you who got into trouble with Speathley by saying that poor Nisbet and Cowper ought to be buried in the city instead of in Ratan Singh's tomb?"