CHAPTER IX.
STRAINED RELATIONS.
On the following morning there was no change to be observed in the aspect of the Mission. Only the gentlemen of the party were acquainted with the fact of the Vizier’s sudden declaration of war, and they shared Sir Dugald’s opinion that it would be bad policy to allow Fath-ud-Din to see that his threats had any effect upon their minds. The great gates were therefore opened as usual to allow the customary throng of country-people and other sellers of fresh provisions to enter and hold their market in the outer court, and the flag, hoisted at sunrise, floated proudly from its staff in front of Bachelors’ Buildings.
Fitz Anstruther left the Mission early that morning on an errand of his own. He had set his heart on getting Miss Keeling a Persian kitten in the bazaar, and immediately after disposing of his chota hazri he induced the interpreter to come out with him and assist him in making his purchase, as, although he had succeeded in making an Ethiopian audience understand his scientific lecture, he felt a well-grounded distrust of his own powers of conducting a bargain in the currency of the country. The absence of the two was soon discovered; but although Sir Dugald testified some displeasure when he found that Kustendjian was not at hand to go on with the drafting of the treaty, no anxiety was felt as to their safety, since none of the staff had hesitated to walk or ride about the city without an escort after the first week of their stay there.
It was considered advisable to take no notice of the Vizier’s visit, and to exhibit a readiness to continue the negotiations as before, and therefore Sir Dugald and his staff assembled as usual in what was called the Durbar-hall, a large airy room on the ground-floor of Bachelors’ Buildings. Here they awaited the appearance either of Kustendjian or of an emissary from the Palace, Dr Headlam lingering for a talk before departing to his expectant patients opposite. He had just heaved a sigh and taken up his helmet, preparatory to seeking his own domain, when a distant sound, gradually increasing in volume, broke upon the ears of those in the room. It might have been rolling thunder, or the roar of wild beasts, or the rush of a torrent; but there was no reason why it should be any of these. Sir Dugald raised his head and listened attentively.
“I have heard that in the Mutiny,” he said. “The town is up about something, and they are coming in this direction. Have you all your revolvers here, gentlemen?”
Each man produced his weapon promptly, and Sir Dugald led the way out on the verandah, the whole party holding their breath to listen to the sound. The servants had noticed it also, and were standing about in the courtyard with pale faces, listening intently. Some, as the noise grew nearer, crept back to their own quarters in terror, the rest gathered in a group and looked to their masters for orders.
“Turn all those Ethiopians out,” said Sir Dugald, pointing to the salesmen and women who had been exhibiting their wares in the courtyard, “and shut the gates.”
No further command was needed. The servants obeyed the order zealously, bundling the unhappy country-people out neck and crop, and throwing their possessions after them. But before they could clear the courtyard of the bewildered and terrified crowd there was a fresh commotion at the gateway, and Fitz forced his way in, followed by Kustendjian, and rushed up to Sir Dugald.
“There’s a regular howling mob coming this way, sir!” he cried. “We saw old Fath-ud-Din’s steward, who goes to the Palace with him, and another man, stirring them up against us in the bazaar, and when we came away they followed us, and then chased us. They are saying that we have annexed the country, and that the flag is the sign of it. They mean to tear it down.”
“Ah!” said Sir Dugald, quietly, stepping down from the verandah. “Put your revolvers into your pockets, gentlemen; we won’t use them at present. Fetch your riding-whips, if you please, or a good strong lithe cane, if you have one, any of you. We will not shed blood unless we are driven to it.”
The young men rushed to their quarters for the required weapons, returning to find Sir Dugald standing beside the flagstaff with his revolver in his hand. The confusion at the gate had been increased by the arrival of the mob outside, for they found their entrance impeded not only by the servants who were doing their best to close the doors, but by the mixed multitude of their own people who were in process of being expelled. But the piles of merchandise thrown down or dropped in the gateway made it impossible for the doors to be shut, and Sir Dugald turned to Fitz.
“Go back to the verandah, Mr Anstruther, and blow your whistle to call the servants in. Concentrate them in the front rooms on that floor, and serve out the rifles and ammunition; but, remember, not a shot is to be fired so long as we are out here. It would be the death of all of us. If we are driven in we will bring the flag with us; but until we come, you fire at your peril.”
As Fitz obeyed, and the sound of his whistle rang out clear and shrill, penetrating even the hubbub at the gate, and causing the servants to abandon their futile efforts and turn to run to the house, Sir Dugald addressed his companions.
“Stratford, you are the tallest. Keep your revolver out, and stand by the flagstaff. Shoot down the first man that lays a hand on the halliards. No; on second thoughts I will take that post myself. It is possible that I am a little cooler in the head than you, and it is certain that you are a good deal stronger of arm than I am. Take your places in front of the flag, gentlemen; that’s it. Your business is to let no one pass you. This is not an armed mob; it is just Fath-ud-Din’s badmashes, and sticks and whips ought to keep them back. I needn’t tell you to lay it on well. Never mind how hard you hit.”
“Here they come!” said the doctor; and as the last servant broke out of the crowd by the gate and fled to the house the mob burst in with a roar. They made straight for the flag, but paused and recoiled at the sight of the three younger men with their whips, and Sir Dugald, revolver in hand, leaning idly against the flagstaff.
“Not much pluck in them!” muttered Dick, disgustedly; but as though they had understood the disparaging words, the mob gathered their courage together and came on again. In a moment the younger men found themselves engaged in a furious hand-to-hand encounter, in which fists and whips were opposed to the force of numbers. Fitz declared afterwards that he could hear over all the din of the struggle the sound of the blows as they fell, although the howling of those who received them ought to have drowned the noise. Once or twice Sir Dugald raised his revolver and let it drop again, for in the whole course of the short, sharp fight no one actually got within the ring of defenders, and presently Fitz, exceeding his orders, seized the psychological instant for a most opportune diversion. Besides rifles, he had provided the servants with all the sticks he could muster; and when he saw the mob begin to give way, he led forth half his force to clear the courtyard. Fear of the defenders plainly visible at the windows had hitherto kept the space between the flagstaff and the house free of intruders, and now the sturdy frontiersmen, covered by the rifles of their friends behind, advanced against the foe, laying about them as they came with hearty goodwill. Gradually the mob yielded their ground. Firing they might perhaps have faced, but this extremely unheroic method of fighting disgusted them with the sport. As the defenders closed their ranks and pressed the fugitives harder, the retreat became a rout, nay, a headlong race—an obstacle race—in which every man was eager to save his back from blows. The last remnants of the mob struggled through the gateway at last, and the courtyard was clear, and the honour of the flag maintained, without the shedding of a drop of blood.
“Clear that rubbish away and close the gates,” said Sir Dugald. “We will keep them shut in future, and the people must bring their things to sell in the street outside. That market of theirs nearly did for us to-day.”
Although the non-arrival of any help from the authorities might have led to the conclusion that the riot had been inaudible in other parts of the city, no sooner was it over, and the enemy driven out, than an official appeared from the King to congratulate the victors—exactly, said Fitz, as he would have done had the result gone the other way, save that his congratulations might then have had a little sincerity in them. But the messenger who came to congratulate went away grave, for Sir Dugald committed to him a full statement of the morning’s proceedings, to be laid before the King, with the intimation that unless apologies were at once offered and the instigators of the demonstration punished, the negotiations would be broken off forthwith and the Mission would return to Khemistan. There was no doubt that it was exceedingly injudicious of Fath-ud-Din to have allowed his servants to be seen stirring up the mob; and the official, in deep perplexity, turned over in his mind the relative disadvantages of offending the Vizier by informing the King of the truth, and on the other hand, of angering the King if Sir Dugald took his departure, and the facts which had brought it about became known.
How the messenger settled matters with his conscience was unknown for the present to the party at the Mission, for the next person they saw was Mr Hicks, who flew to the spot on the wings of zeal the moment that the news of the outbreak reached him. Stratford declared that his countenance expressed deep disappointment when he realised that the courtyard was not filled with the dead and dying, and that the flag hung unscathed; but the doctor maintained that he was prejudiced, and that Mr Hicks had hurried to offer his help in the defence, heedless of the danger he might incur in meeting the defeated mob. However this might be, Mr Hicks warmed with enthusiasm when he was told the story of the morning, and finally advanced to Sir Dugald and grasped him by the hand.
“General,” he said; “shake! You are a white man, you are. You have licked that poor ordinary crowd of niggers in a way to earn you the eternal gratitude of every Western stranger that circumstances may drive to sojourn in this uncared-for state. But I guess that your troubles are only beginning, sir.”
“Possibly,” said Sir Dugald, with perfect unconcern.
“Well, if things look black, you have only to pass me the word, General, and I will vamoose my ranche yonder and come and give you a hand. I should be right down proud to fight shoulder to shoulder with the man that turned back that mob without shedding a drop of blood.”
“You are very kind,” said Sir Dugald, with a complete lack of enthusiasm. “I can assure you that things must go very badly with us before we seek to involve you in our troubles”—a reply delivered with so much urbanity that Mr Hicks could not at first decide whether his offer was accepted or refused.
The next visitor appeared in the course of the afternoon, and was no other than the Grand Vizier himself. It was evident that the royal messenger had decided upon telling his master the truth, for Fath-ud-Din came to offer suitable apologies for the conduct of his retainers. The steward, he said, was an old family servant, who, owing to his constant intercourse with his master, had imbibed from him such exalted ideas of patriotism that on hearing the treaty discussed, and conceiving it to be unduly advantageous to England, he had felt moved to stir up the townspeople against it, his religious zeal having also been inflamed by the memories and hardships incidental to the month of Ramadan, which had just ended. The other instigator of the outbreak was a young theological student, a member of a class which was often unruly and troublesome, and which had great influence with the people. It was preposterous to imagine that the Vizier could have had any previous knowledge of the doings of these two fanatics, and he had come to declare his sorrow that it had been in the power of such wretches not only to annoy and alarm the Mission, but also to involve in their disgrace his own spotless name. He had given immediate orders that they were both to be severely punished, and if Sir Dugald liked, he would have them brought in and bastinadoed before him, so that he might assure himself that they had received their deserts. In any case (as Sir Dugald politely declined the proffered satisfaction for himself, while intimating that he would send a representative to see that the punishment was duly carried out), he brought assurances that the King of all kings felt the deepest regret for the way in which things had turned out, and entreated that the Envoy would not withdraw the light of his countenance from Kubbet-ul-Haj, but would overlook the fright and annoyance which had been caused to the Mission, and remain in Ethiopia until the treaty had been duly concluded.
“Fright?” said Sir Dugald—for the Vizier had emphasised the word, and repeated it more than once in different forms—“I saw no particular signs of fright about our people. What we felt was more like disgust. Apart from the violation of courtesy and propriety in the attack made on the flag, it was disagreeably close work down in the court there with that crowd pressing all round us.”
“Ah, my lord the Envoy is a soldier, and knows not fear, and his young men are brave also,” replied Fath-ud-Din, stroking his beard; “but the women—my lord’s household—surely their hearts became as water when they heard the shouts of the people?”
“This is the first I have heard of it, if they did,” replied Sir Dugald; “but then, I was not in a position to observe their behaviour. Mr Anstruther, you were in command at the rear. What were the ladies doing while the fighting was going on? Was there any fainting or screaming?”
“Oh no, sir. The ladies were on our roof here, watching the fun.”
“But that was extremely injudicious. If we had been obliged to evacuate Bachelors’ Buildings, their presence would have added immensely to our difficulties. You should have ordered them down, and insisted on their returning to their own quarters.”
“So I did, sir.” There was a gleam of fun in Fitz’s eyes. “I ran up there myself to insist with greater effect, and they laughed at me. It was flat mutiny, but I could not spare sufficient men to put them under arrest.”
“Ah, the women were driven mad by terror. Their feet were weighed down so that they could not move,” said Fath-ud-Din pityingly, when this had been translated to him.
“And just at the beginning, sir,” Fitz went on to Sir Dugald, “when there was that crush in the gateway, Miss Keeling sent her maid down to ask me whether I couldn’t tell the people not to move about quite so much, because she wanted to sketch them. That was how I first found out that Lady Haigh and she were up there; but I didn’t think that the remark showed a proper sense of the seriousness of the situation. I assure you that it pained me very much, sir.”
“Just translate that to the Vizier, Mr Kustendjian,” said Sir Dugald, but again incredulity was written on Fath-ud-Din’s face.
“Surely my lord knows, as I do,” he said, “that the young man is one of those who delight to laugh at the beards of their elders, and to utter the thing that is not true, to the confusion of their own faces?”
“I see that we shall have to convince this gentleman by the evidence of his own senses,” remarked Sir Dugald, addressing no one in particular. “Mr Anstruther, would you be kind enough to find out what the ladies are doing now?”
“They are working on the terrace, sir,” said Fitz, returning, “and the servants are just bringing in afternoon tea.”
“Very well. Be so good as to ask Lady Haigh to have coffee brought in as well, and tell her that Fath-ud-Din is coming to pay her a visit. She and Miss Keeling had better put on those veils of theirs, by the bye, for we don’t want any more complications introduced into this business.”
Fitz departed on his errand in high glee, and when a decent interval had been allowed for the transformation to be effected, Sir Dugald, after a few preliminary remarks tending to impress Fath-ud-Din with a sense of the greatness of the honour about to be conferred upon him, led his guest into the inner courtyard, and up the steps to the terrace. Here, indeed, there was little sign of panic. There were books and work about, and Georgia’s sketching materials were visible in a corner. She herself had the Persian kitten, which Fitz had brought home in his pocket in the morning, asleep on her lap, while Lady Haigh was pouring out tea with a hand in which the keenest gaze could not distinguish the slightest tendency to tremble. The Vizier looked disappointed—this is putting it mildly, for the young men agreed afterwards that his expression was fiendish—but he appeared to be reflecting that the veils in which his hostesses were shrouded might be serving a useful purpose in concealing the traces of fear, for presently he turned to Sir Dugald.
“Let not my lord be offended if I entreat him to inquire of his household whether terror did not seize them this morning,” he said, meekly enough.
“By no means,” returned Sir Dugald, genially. “Elma, the Vizier would like to know whether you were frightened when his people were kicking up that row in the courtyard?”
“Frightened?” snapped Lady Haigh. “What was there to be frightened about, I should like to know?” The measureless scorn in her eyes and voice evidently reached Fath-ud-Din in spite of the double barrier of the foreign language and the burka, for he swallowed his cupful of scalding coffee hastily, and it was necessary to recover him from a choking fit before he could proceed with his inquiry.
“Then will my lord ask the doctor lady, who has no husband to protect her with the might of his arm and the power of his name, whether she was not terrified?” he asked.
“Frightened?” returned Georgia, when the question had been put to her. “Oh dear, no! I have a revolver. I think,” she added, carelessly, after a pause to let the information she had just given sink in, “that it was only the kitten which was frightened. Poor little thing! It was in a pitiable state when I rescued it from Mr Anstruther’s coat-pocket.”
“By the head of our lord the King,” burst out Fath-ud-Din, rising hurriedly, “these are no women, but fighting men!”
“Isn’t it worth your while, then, to strain a point in order to gain an alliance with a nation that has such women?” asked Sir Dugald, seizing the opportunity to point a moral.
“Nay, rather,” said the Vizier, retreating to the steps as he spoke, “what are we doing to admit within our borders a nation whose very women are of such a temper as this?”
“I’m sure that was the sweetest compliment that the New Woman has ever received,” said Dick to Georgia, as Sir Dugald, followed by Stratford and Fitz, escorted his discomfited guest across the courtyard.
“Major North,” said Lady Haigh, briskly, “I consider that you are distinctly rude to your Chief’s wife. I don’t know whether you mean to deny me a share in Fath-ud-Din’s pretty speech, or to insinuate that I am a New Woman; but, in either case, I think that your conduct is sadly lacking in respect.”
“I don’t think Major North meant to be rude, Lady Haigh,” said Georgia, playing with the kitten’s tail. “His tongue ran away with him. It is a habit it has sometimes.”
“I apologise humbly, Lady Haigh,” said Dick. “In any case, what I have just heard would have forced me to believe that the New Woman was very like the old one. Now if either you or Miss Keeling would do me the honour of having the last word, my submission would be complete.”
“The question is,” said Sir Dugald, returning to the tea-table with Stratford while Lady Haigh and Georgia were still laughing, “what was it exactly that Fath-ud-Din hoped to gain by this attack on us?”
“Then you don’t think he was trying to wipe out the Mission at one blow?” asked Stratford.
“No, I don’t, unless he hoped that we should be provoked into firing on the mob, when the whole country would have risen against us. But I don’t fancy that was his game. I think he must have been trying to terrify us into withdrawing from Ethiopia at once, or else into bribing him largely to get the treaty signed immediately.”
“I think he has received a little enlightenment as to the possibility of squeezing us,” said Dick, with a grim smile. “My only cause for misgiving is a doubt whether the ladies could ever again rise to the superhuman height of heroism they displayed just now. Any weakening in that attitude in the presence of danger might lead to unfavourable remarks.”
“He is trying to punish us for what we said just now, Georgia,” said Lady Haigh, amiably. “Never mind; when the danger comes he shall see whether either of us weakens, as Mr Hicks would say.”
And the matter dropped amidst general laughter, which was perhaps what Dick wanted, for after tea he asked for an interview with Sir Dugald, and laid before him various expedients for rendering the Mission more easily defensible. These measures he was authorised to adopt, but without alarming the ladies, and he flattered himself that he was successful in this, and that Lady Haigh and Georgia never perceived that he drilled the servants each morning in the outer court, or that he had divided them into watches, each of which took its turn in remaining under arms. He had the more reason for this belief of his, in that the ladies had other things to think of, for matters seemed to have quieted down, and Georgia went to the Palace as usual, while Sir Dugald’s audiences of the King were resumed, the subject of discussion at present being the exact wording of the treaty, the provisions of which had already been agreed upon.
It was noticed by the members of the Mission that the King’s manner seemed to have changed since the outbreak, and that he was by no means so easy to please even as he had been. He cavilled at points which had already been definitely settled, and did his best to produce the impression that he considered the treaty extremely disadvantageous to Ethiopia. This was the more serious in that Jahan Beg reported the reappearance upon the scene of the Scythian agent, with larger presents and more abundant promises, and it was calculated to suggest that the King wished to irritate Sir Dugald into breaking off the negotiations. But long experience of the East had made Sir Dugald the most patient of men—in public—and his staff were astonished at the mildness with which he altered the wording of a clause again and again, without ever abating one jot of the concessions he had determined to obtain. His mingled tact and resolution carried the day at last. The treaty was agreed upon in its entirety, and after being engrossed on parchment by the King’s scribes, was read through to the Envoy, behind whom stood the interpreter Kustendjian, ready to mark the slightest deviation from the prescribed formula. There now remained only the actual signing of the convention, and it was arranged that Fath-ud-Din should bring the instrument, bearing the seals of the King and the Grand Vizier, to the Mission in the morning, there to receive Sir Dugald’s signature, after which the British expedition might take its departure peacefully and honourably from Kubbet-ul-Haj.
The day on which the treaty was to be signed was an important one also to Georgia, for she had decided, after much consultation with Dr Headlam, who could not, of course, see the patient, but who gave all the advice that his experience of like cases suggested to him, to undertake at last the operation on the Queen’s eyes. The state of the patient’s general health was not yet as satisfactory as her doctor could have desired, but when any day might bring about the departure of the Mission, Georgia felt that she dared not delay longer. Even as it was, there was little hope that she would be able to be present when, after the necessary interval, the bandages could be removed from the Queen’s eyes, and her professional conscience was troubled at the possibility of leaving her work only half-done. But Sir Dugald was far too anxious to get his followers safely out of Ethiopia to be willing to spend a week or a fortnight longer in the country in order that Georgia might see the result of her handiwork, and all she could do was to explain everything very carefully, with Rahah’s help, to Nur Jahan, and give her full directions in case of the occurrence of various possible contingencies. The actual operation was performed without a hitch, and Georgia felt deeply relieved as she fastened the bandages, impressing on the Queen and all her attendants that they were on no account to be removed until the specified time had elapsed. The Mission was not likely, in any case, to take its departure until three or four days had passed, and she promised to come in again at least once more in order to note the patient’s state, and oftener if she were summoned.
Nur Jahan escorted her to the door of the harem, plying her with questions as to the treatment the patient ought to receive, and the means by which Georgia had gained her medical skill. The girl had already proved herself such an apt pupil that Georgia sighed again over the thought that a medical career was an impossibility for her, but she kept her promise loyally to Jahan Beg. The litter was not ready when they reached the harem courtyard, and while it was being prepared she stood in the doorway talking to Nur Jahan, but leaving the questions as to her own hospital experiences unanswered, devoted the time to reiterating her directions for the Queen’s treatment. Presently a burst of laughter and loud talking reached her ears from the rooms on the other side of the courtyard, and she looked across to a balcony in which the forms of several women could be descried. They were evidently attendants on the King’s second wife, Antar Khan’s mother, who was frantically jealous of her rival owing to her monopoly of the services of the doctor lady, and who had shown this feeling in various unpleasant ways. She was much too proud to invite a visit from Georgia, or even to feign illness as an excuse for summoning her, and therefore she and her faction chose to regard the doctor lady as the dirt under their feet. They drew aside their clothes when they passed her, affected to consider the rooms in which she had been received as unclean, and seized every opportunity of insulting her from a safe distance.
The adherents of Rustam Khan’s mother, on the other hand, fully appreciated the reasons for this state of things, and exulted over their opponents on every possible occasion. They prided themselves on their exclusive possession of the doctor lady, and would have rejoiced in the opportunity of denying her services to the opposite party in a case of dangerous illness. They had just shouted across the courtyard the news of the satisfactory performance of the operation, and their rivals were naturally moved to wrath. Hence they had assembled in their balcony to point the finger of scorn at Georgia, and to jeer at her and Nur Jahan, whose own position in the Palace was so uncertain that she dared not run the risk of getting her husband into disgrace by appealing to the King.
“Thou art very proud, O doctor lady,” cried a strong-lunged damsel, leaning over the rail of the balcony, “but when next we see thee thou wilt be entreating mercy at our lady’s feet.”
Rahah translated the prophecy to her mistress at once, and Georgia, in sudden alarm, turned to Nur Jahan.
“You are our friend, Nur Jahan? If you knew of any plot against the Mission, you would warn me?”
“I would risk my life and all that I have to warn thee in such a case, O doctor lady,” replied Nur Jahan, earnestly; “but what I fear is a plot of which I should know nothing.”
With these ominous words ringing in her ears, Georgia entered the litter, and returned to the Mission in a somewhat perturbed state of mind. It seemed, however, that there was nothing going on that need excite her alarm. The Grand Vizier and his attendants had just brought the treaty to be ratified, and Georgia caught a glimpse of the assemblage as she passed through into the inner courtyard with Rahah. Had she guessed what was about to happen in the Durbar-hall, nothing would have induced her to leave the outer court.
On the table before Sir Dugald lay the treaty, written out with the greatest care and delicacy on a huge sheet of parchment, and displaying the most wonderful flourishes and other decorations at the beginning of every clause. At the other side of the table stood Fath-ud-Din, his attendants crowding behind him and peering eagerly over his shoulder to watch Sir Dugald. The Envoy had taken the pen from the hand of Fitz, and was glancing down the parchment for the exact place at which he was to affix his signature. To all appearance the treaty was the same that had been read over to him the day before, and yet some suspicion entered his mind, prompted by his instinctive caution. He would not trust to his own slight knowledge of the Ethiopian language, but called Kustendjian forward.
“Be so good as to summarise that for me,” he said, laying his finger on the clause which concerned the appointment of a British Resident, with jurisdiction over British subjects in Ethiopia, who should take up his abode at Iskandarbagh.
The Armenian’s eyes grew wide as he advanced and scanned the passage pointed out by Sir Dugald. “The Resident is to have no power to decide any cause in dispute between a British subject and an Ethiopian, nor between two British subjects when the question concerns property or other interests situated in Ethiopia, your Excellency,” he said, in a low voice.
“And that,” said Sir Dugald, indicating the clause by which British goods, with the exception of munitions of war and ardent spirits, were to be allowed entrance into Ethiopia upon payment of duties not exceeding a certain percentage of the value, which were to be imposed by the King and approved by England.
“The minimum duty is to be a hundred per cent ad valorem, and there is no proviso as to the approval of her Majesty’s Government, your Excellency. Every one of the clauses has had additions or omissions made in it, which render it absolutely useless for all practical purposes.”
“Thank you, Mr Kustendjian.” Sir Dugald laid down the pen deliberately, and took up the treaty. The Ethiopians present had watched his actions with eager interest, but could read nothing from his face. Now, however, he seemed to their guilty consciences to rise and to