The Young Rajah

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Reginald then explained his plan to Dick Thuddichum, who replied—

“Of course, of course. It would be a rum sort of a tower that we couldn’t get to the top of, provided there are but a few holes and crannies into which we can stick our toes and fingers. But, to my mind, it will be as well to secure a few coils of rope, as it may be an easier task to get up than to come down again—especially if we have got a young lady with us.”

“But if we were to be seen carrying the rope, suspicion of our intention would be excited, and the rebels would take measures to counteract it,” observed Reginald.

“Then we must not let them see it,” answered Dick. “I would not mind carrying a coil covered up in a piece of muslin, to look like a turban, on the top of my head; and I dare say Mister Buxsoo and the nigger here would do the same. And though I am pretty stout already, I would coil a few more lengths round my waist; and if the natives were to find out by chance what I had got about my body, they would only fancy that I was doing a bit of penance like themselves. Keep up your heart, sir; and if the young lady is shut up in the old tower, as you suppose, we’ll manage, by hook or by crook, to get her out.”

We must now return to the temple in which Reginald and his party had taken shelter a few nights before. The Brahmin Balkishen and his slave were not the only occupants; and as soon as the travellers had gone, another personage crept out of a small chamber in which he had been hidden during the time of their stay, an interested spectator of their proceedings. He was no other than Khan Cochût. Hearing of the rajah’s restoration to power, he was on his way back to Allahapoor with a cunningly-devised tale, by means of which he hoped to be restored to power. The astounding information, however, that he received from Balkishen made him change his plans, and he resolved, at all events, to defer his visit till a more convenient opportunity. The two worthies were actually holding a discussion together, when they were interrupted by the arrival of Reginald’s party. Khan Cochût, though not very scrupulous, hesitated about firing, although he might have done so from his place of concealment, and have killed Reginald and Buxsoo, whom he himself feared; but, on the other hand, he might have missed, and have been caught and killed himself. Altogether, he came to the conclusion that it would be more prudent to try and ingratiate himself with the young rajah, till he could safely retire with the wealth he had accumulated.

His plan had been to go boldly to the court, to assert that he had been carried off by the orders of the rebel Mukund Bhim, and pretending to be greatly surprised on hearing of the abduction of the ranee, to offer to go in search of her. It was a hazardous scheme; but Khan Cochût was a daring man, and had convinced himself that timid measures rarely meet with success.

As soon as he had seen Reginald’s party to a safe distance, he sat down to a breakfast which Bikoo, Balkishen’s slave, had prepared for him; while the Brahmin, who would have considered himself defiled by eating in company with his friend, sat down to a more frugal meal by himself. After having washed his hands and said his prayers, the Brahmin rejoined the khan,—who considered neither of such ceremonies necessary,—and the two then discussed their plans for the future. Balkishen undertook to follow Reginald’s party, accompanied by Bikoo, and to prevent them by every means in his power from reaching the place of Nuna’s concealment, should they by any wonderful chance discover it; while Khan Cochût came to the final resolution of returning to Allahapoor, and carrying out his original plan.

They were about to part, when they were startled by a loud roar, such as had never before echoed amid the walls of the temple. The Brahmin trembled and looked very yellow, for he could not be said to turn pale.

“It must be that abominable tigress which I thought had been killed,” he exclaimed. “No mortal beast could have escaped being dashed to pieces from the height she fell. I always said she was a djinn; and this convinces me of the fact.”

“She must have a hard head and strong bones, at all events,” observed Khan Cochût. “For my part, I don’t believe either in good or evil spirits; and the simplest way of stopping her roaring will be to put a bullet through her head.”