The Path to Honour

by Sydney C. Grier

"I will be there immediately. The start is postponed for the present, Badan Hazari, but strike the tents ready for marching, and get ready a messenger at once to go to Darwan."

In the intervals of dressing he scribbled a hasty note to Charteris, telling him what had happened, and that he should probably return to the city at once, urging him also to forward the news immediately to Ranjitgarh, and ask for definite instructions. Having seen this despatched, he mounted and rode over to the Rajah's camp, which was in a state of the wildest confusion. The bodyguard, the only portion of the troops that could be trusted, were mounting guard round the zenana enclosure, into which the corpse of the Rajah had been carried, the Rani having, as Gerrard learned, at once sent out her jewellery to be divided among them, and thus secured their fidelity for the time. The rest of the soldiers, with the servants and transport-drivers, had evidently been holding high carnival outside the ring of steel. In the few hours which had elapsed since the ghastly discovery, the brocades and kincob of the audience-tents had been torn down and distributed, the cushions deprived of their rich covers, and the very gaddi on which the Rajah's body had been found stripped of its damask. Even the carpets were gone from the floors, and the cotton ground-cloths torn in every direction. Gerrard's first task was the restoration of some measure of order. His boldness in taking command of the situation attracted the soldiers towards him, and he made a definite bid for their allegiance by the promise of large rewards to be distributed by Rajah Kharrak Singh at Agpur. Strict orders were issued against further plundering, and every man who had obtained nothing, or less than he expected, became a detective ready to hunt down his more fortunate comrade and secure the return of the spoils. Partab Singh's councillors and courtiers began to appear out of various hiding-places, and all expressed a most touching anxiety to be honoured with any commands from Gerrard. But before he had time to listen to them, the circle of soldiers round the zenana tents opened, and a little procession came out. Between the Rani's scribe and her spiritual adviser, a large Brahmin, came Kharrak Singh, with the royal umbrella held over his head, and a guard of the Rani's own Rajput servants following him. Marching up to Gerrard as he stood among the crowd of eager suitors in the devastated audience-tent, the boy took off his turban and laid it at his feet.

"The widow of Rajah Partab Singh kisses the footprints of Jirad Sahib, and entreats that she and her son may sit down under his shadow," he said perfunctorily, evidently repeating what had been taught him. "Jirad Sahib knows that I am Rajah now? He will make them give me a real sword, will he not?"

"Presently. At Agpur," said Gerrard hastily. Stooping, he took the child into his arms, and a gasp of satisfaction broke from the onlookers. Kharrak Singh's cause was to have the support of the English, as represented by this agent of Colonel Antony's.

Still holding the boy by the hand, Gerrard gave orders for an immediate return to Agpur, where the body of the Rajah might be burnt with due solemnity. Colonel Antony's warning against involving the British Government in responsibility came back to him with a touch of irony. This responsibility had thrust itself upon him, and the return to Agpur would involve further responsibility, in that he must proceed to secure the allegiance of the troops by the means prescribed by Partab Singh, and they would place themselves at the command of the man who paid them. Whether he was allowed to continue in the position or not, he was undoubtedly acting as Regent of Agpur for the present.

One man after another was dismissed to his duties, and retired with salaams, until practically only the old councillors were left. There was a guilty and subdued air of expectancy about some of them, a tendency to start at any sudden sound and look round suspiciously, which made Gerrard wonder what they were waiting for. But when the last soldier had stridden clanking out of the tent, a distant thudding became audible, like the approach of a body of horse. Significant glances passed between the men Gerrard had noticed, to be succeeded by an expression of utter guilelessness when they saw that they were observed, while those who were not in the secret began to show signs of fear. In the general disorder no guards had been posted on the outskirts of the camp, and the approaching cavalcade swept gorgeously up the broad avenue leading to the Rajah's tent, riding down the few who sought to challenge their passage. Gerrard turned hastily to the scribe and the Brahmin.

"Take the boy back to the zenana at once, and see that no one passes the guards, either going in or coming out, save by orders from me. Who is this that comes?" he demanded, facing round upon the councillors, as Kharrak Singh was hurried away.

"Who should it be but the eldest son of our lord, sahib?" was the answer, and as the old men spoke, Sher Singh flung himself from his reeking horse at the door of the tent and entered.

"Where is my lord and father?" he cried. "Bring me to him, that I may embrace his feet, and receive the forgiveness and the favour he has graciously promised me."

"Alas, Kunwar-ji!" chorused the councillors, all trying to push one another forward to tell the news. Sher Singh glanced at them contemptuously.