The Great Mogul Part 30

"No, but my uncle--"

"Even he could not be aware that the beautiful Nur Mahal, whose fascination for Jahangir is known to all India, would become a widow, and hence regain her ascendency at court. It is true. Her husband, Sher Afghan, is dead. She herself is Sultana by this time, and her first act has been to free all the European prisoners in Agra, Delhi, and other cities, whose bondage was the result of Jahangir's earlier policy. Judge for yourself what she will say when she hears of the excesses committed by Abdul Aziz. The Emperor, knowing your uncle, dreaded the account of his actions, but he dreads much more the frown of Nur Mahal. Hence, I have been despatched with a double mission. Had Abdul Aziz been present in person I had no choice but to deal with him harshly. In his absence it is my more pleasant duty to bid you explain to the captives in your charge that a terrible mistake has been made. They must be treated with all courtesy and attention, and, indeed, brought to see, before they reach Agra, that it is the special design of the Emperor to recompense them in every way."

"Then they are not to be set at liberty?" gasped Fateh Mohammed, who had been so carried away by Mowbray's announcement that he quite forgot to ask for any verification of it.

"In a sense, yes. They are to be clothed, fed, and provided with means of conveyance in such manner as to show that they are the Emperor's guests. But they must go to Agra. It could not be otherwise. They must be maintained fittingly until order is restored in Bengal, their ruined houses rebuilt, and means taken to insure their future safety. Thus only can Jahangir undo the evil deeds of Abdul Aziz."

"This intelligence--"

"Finds you unprepared. What is more natural? But the downfall of one man oft opens the door of opportunity to another. The Emperor is free-handed. He rewards as fully as he punishes. Leave to me the pleasing task of informing him how quickly you fulfilled his behests to the last letter."

"It shall be so, in very truth. Yet your lords.h.i.+p sees the difficulties that confront me."

"I am bidden help you dispel them. I have money and fair words at command. Be sure that neither a mule nor a woman can resist such pleading. But let all clemency come through you in the Emperor's name."

Fateh Mohammed flushed deeply under his bronze skin. He pursed his lips and set his feet apart. A dazzling vista opened before his mind's eye.

He pictured Abdul Aziz, whose severe tenets he loathed in so far as they restrained his own gross desires, swinging from a _nim_ tree, while a mourning nephew journeyed back in state to take up an a.s.sured position.

Mowbray watched him narrowly. He saw the man's vanity puffing him up like the frog in the fable, and he could scarce restrain a smile at the thought that, in all probability, this fantastic scheme would actually result in the way he had described. But it was necessary to strike while the iron glowed, so he continued impressively:--

"Above all things, keep your own counsel. You and I can be discreet. If others know your mind they have you at a disadvantage, for they can shape their conduct to further their own ends while skilfully defeating yours."

"The Emperor's wishes shall be locked within my heart," said the other in a tone of absolute confidence.

"'Tis well! I will accompany you to the prisoners--Jahangir's guests--after despatching my attendant to summon my escort."

"Your escort?"

"Surely you cannot imagine that the Emperor's courier rode with only one sowar! You see he wears the livery of Sher Afghan, whose retinue is placed at my disposal by Jahangir's own act."

Fateh Mohammed little guessed how literally true this statement was. He knew naught of affairs at Agra, nor was he skilled in the new heraldic fas.h.i.+ons then penetrating the East. But the a.s.sumption that he was an adept therein added the last drop to the cruse of oil which had been so judiciously administered to him.

Having ascertained when the escort might be expected, he gave orders that it was to be received with proper honor. As soon as the sowar had ridden away north, _ventre a terre_, the two grandees mounted and proceeded slowly through the ranks of the halted cavalcade.

Walter, chatting affably about the splendors of the court, counted two hundred fairly serviceable hors.e.m.e.n, and half as many armed guards of the baggage train. He estimated that a similar number would bring up the rear, so the futility of a surprise attack by night, which Roger had suggested, was now quite demonstrated. Even if a panic were created and the host broke up in disorder, what could be done next day, and every other day for weeks, by twenty men burthened with a host of helpless captives, for da Silva's account made it certain that nearly all the Portuguese soldiers had fallen in the first fierce fight at Hughli. The whole country would be roused. Every Mahomedan would deem it a religious duty to slay the Giaours, and they would all perish miserably. Yes, his amazingly daring plan, now that the first barrier was pa.s.sed, promised ultimate success, and his heart throbbed at the thought that two Englishmen, alone and almost unfriended in a powerful foreign land, should have adopted such a mad device and carried it triumphantly to the very gate of achievement.

For this was his scheme. He counted that, long ere this, Nur Mahal was firmly established as the despot of a despot. He was sure that a woman of cultured and artistic tastes would sway the shallow-minded King back from his retrogade policy with regard to other nations. Therefore, the instant Jai Singh heard that Fateh Mohammed had taken the pill so neatly prepared for him, the Rajput and a couple of men would ride at utmost speed to Agra and warn Nur Mahal as to the way in which Jahangir's authority had been usurped. If she did not gainsay it, but promised to make smooth their path, all would be well. If aught untoward happened, Jai Singh was to collect as many of Sher Afghan's retainers as were available, and ambuscade the caravan at some preconcerted place. They would endeavor to secure the escape of those able-bodied prisoners who could ride, the Europeans thereafter plunging recklessly into Central India with the hope of reaching Bombay. If not all, some could be saved.

These alternatives each depended on Walter's primary success. If, however, Fateh Mohammed were suspicious or actively hostile--it was thought he would not dare do more than detain Mowbray until his pretended mission were justified or otherwise--then the only course which remained open was a surprise attack at midnight, of which Mowbray would privily warn all whom he could trust in order to create a diversion. Here, obviously, lay the chief risk of failure. But Mowbray steadily believed in his theory that Nur Mahal would so mold Jahangir's mind that Fateh Mohammed would be acclaimed as a most judicious person when he reached Agra, and, by consequence, that he himself and Sainton would have no difficulty in proceeding to the west coast by the direct overland route. At any rate, granted the less favorable outcome, they made sure of saving Fra Pietro, who, after all, most enlisted their sympathies.

And now the sowar was speeding to the agreed rendezvous to apprise Roger and Jai Singh that all had gone well thus far. No wonder Mowbray felt elated, and that his confident air left room in Fateh Mohammed's brain for no shadow of suspicion. But his gaiety, subdued and decorous as became a person who ranked high in the trust of a king, was rudely dispelled by the first sight of the wo-begone prisoners. He first encountered a batch of men each chained securely after the manner in which da Silva was manacled, but now bound together by strips of cowhide, since, apparently, a few had escaped like the half-caste. They were haggard, foot-sore and in rags. Poor souls, they had taken advantage of the unexpected halt to lie down again in the dust. Such was their misery that they had lost all human interest. They looked at Walter and his companion with lack-l.u.s.ter eyes, like those on the point of death who retain some glimmer of consciousness yet have already quitted the living world.

Fateh Mohammed, giving a sidelong glance at Jahangir's envoy, saw the stern frown in his face and began to explain.

"Abdul Aziz is a hard man," he murmured. "He gave his orders and I could only obey."

Mowbray stifled his rage. He must play his part to the end.

"Of course," he said, "there were difficulties. This is no time to tell these unfortunates of the Emperor's regret. Order them to be freed and given good food. Then let them rest all this day until horses and camels are procured for to-morrow's march."

The stout commander obeyed instantly, with such denunciations of his myrmidons and such appeals to the Prophet that his own men deemed him temporarily insane, while some among the unhappy prisoners lifted their heads to ascertain if they had heard aright.

The plight of the women was not so bad. None save the young and good looking had been brought from Hughli. They were supplied with mules and ponies, and were destined for the zenanas of such court favorites as might take a fancy to them. All the older women had been ma.s.sacred in cold blood. There were girls who had lost their mothers, wives who had seen their husbands cut to pieces before their eyes. Over them, too, brooded a settled despair. Tears had long been dried. There remained only a haunting terror of the future.

Prominent among them, if only on account of the richness of her soiled garments, was the Countess di Cabota. Although she was, in Eastern eyes, bewitching by reason of her fair skin, large brown eyes, and exceedingly plump figure, she was undoubtedly over thirty years of age. Hence, she owed her life to that which many another woman risks her life to avoid, namely, a somewhat too p.r.o.nounced development of a figure naturally inclined to solidity.

The unhappy lady--perhaps by subtle operation of the principle _n.o.blesse oblige_--retained some degree of vivacity. Her glance no sooner fell on Mowbray than she cried in Portuguese:--

"Mother of mercy! An Englishman of rank!"

Walter doffed his hat with ceremonious politeness.

"A friend, too, I trust, Countess," he said. "You may believe that, from this moment, your sufferings have ended."

"Misericordia! how can that be?"

"His excellency the Nawab Fateh Mohammed will explain better than it is possible for me to do."

Thus impelled, his "Excellency" did, indeed, give the Countess and her companions a cheering message, which the half-caste women joyfully interpreted for those who did not follow the native words with complete understanding. Then, after many days, some broken hearts found relief again in tears.

At last, not venturing to search too eagerly, yet missing none he pa.s.sed in this Via Dolorosa, Mowbray found the Franciscan. Utterly spent, unable to move one foot before the other, Fra Pietro would have been dead a week gone had not some bullock-driver, whose crushed fingers he had dressed, lifted him into a grain cart and kept him there in defiance of repeated advice to throw the Giaour into the jungle and let him glut the jackals.

Nevertheless, the good monk, broken in body and exhausted for want of food suited to his condition, had not benefited greatly by the jolting repose thus given him. He was still exceedingly ill, and when Mowbray, who knew him instantly, could not refrain from leaping to the ground and bending over him, the parched blue-white lips were moving in fitful prayer:--

"De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine!... Dona me requiem aeternam ...

Ostende me, Domine, misericordiam tuam!"

"The Lord has heard thee, good friend, though happily thy days of eternal rest may be long deferred for the good of mankind," murmured Walter to himself, for he dared not be too openly recognized by the Franciscan, lest Fateh Mohammed should be moved to ponder upon all that had taken place.

Yet something must be done, and quickly, too, if that flickering soul were to stay in its earthly tabernacle.

He turned to the nawab.

"Here is one who, I have good reason to believe, will be highly esteemed by the Sultana. He should be carried to a tent, given a little wine and milk, and receive the most careful attendance. If, indeed, his name be Fra Pietro, his life is of the utmost value to all concerned."

At each moment Fateh Mohammed saw how essential it was to adopt prompt measures if he were to earn the good will of this masterful envoy. He bestirred himself now to such effect that when Roger and the remaining Rajputs, including the three left in the village (whence da Silva was advised to go down the river in one of the boats), marched into the camp, there was an air of liveliness among the Europeans long absent from their tortured existence, whilst Fra Pietro was sleeping peacefully on a couch of soft furs.

Sainton's arrival created the customary stir. By none was he gazed on with greater interest than by the Countess di Cabota. She vowed, by all the saints, she had never seen such a man, and likened him to the terrible Archangel who defied the fiends when they would have a.s.saulted heaven.

To Fateh Mohammed the sight of this unexampled specimen of humanity, joined to the appointments and smart appearance of Sher Afghan's hors.e.m.e.n, gave the last proof, if further proof were needed, that Jahangir's delegate was indeed a person to be treated with deference. He became dog-like in his servility, and transformed his train from a band of ruffianly jailers into a troupe of servitors, each and all being anxious to win the friends.h.i.+p of those whom formerly they goaded to madness or insensibility.

Mowbray's word was law, his least wish was executed. Within three days, after fraternizing judiciously with others, he and Sainton were able to visit Fra Pietro. The meeting between them was joyful indeed. The Franciscan, when he regained faculties bewildered by recognition of them, was moved to tears. To him, because he spoke English, they could talk without reserve, and his breath came fast with alarm when he learned what they had done for him.

"Nay, nay!" protested Roger, "fear not that we shall come to an ill end because we took a risk on your account. They tell me you are here owing to the timely aid you gave us, and, by that same token, our arch enemy, Dom Geronimo, is now laid by the heels at Agra. I know not who cast the net which gathered us all in this G.o.d-forgotten land, but, by the cross of Osmotherly, he hath hauled together some queer fish."

"Have you met Dom Geronimo? Does he know of your presence in India?"

"Trust him for that. He hath the sight of a vulture where friend Mowbray is concerned."