CHAPTER XXIII.
PRISONERS AND CAPTIVES.
IN a moment all was confusion. Behind the curtain, Zulika and Hafiza threw themselves upon Wazira Begum, and carried her off by main force, regardless of her struggles, locking her into a small room where jewels and best clothes were kept. They had seen the man in the litter raise himself and deal Maadat Ali a blow that stretched him senseless on the floor, and their sudden action had only just prevented the girl from rushing unveiled into the turmoil of armed men. The hall was ringing with battle-cries: “Jabal! Jabal!” from the brotherhood, “Dīn! Dīn!” from the men who had carried the litter and those who had dogged their steps. Swords were flashing; but such was the confusion that the garrison of Sheikhgarh did not know who was friend or who foe. The dark-clothed strangers, who had almost succeeded in surrounding them, were obviously enemies; but mingled among themselves were the litter-bearers in their own distinctive dress, headed by the man who had been carried in the litter, and who had now sprung to his feet and unsheathed a sword. Beset and outnumbered, the men of the Mountains turned furiously upon the nearest foe each could distinguish, and a wild turmoil raged, which swayed for a moment towards the entrance of the hall, leaving clear the remains of the litter and the form of Maadat Ali lying beside it. Lady Haigh put a hand round the curtain and gripped the arm of Murtiza Khan, who still stood motionless in his niche. These bewildering changes were nothing to him; his duty began and ended with the defence of his Memsahibs.
“Fetch in the boy, Murtiza Khan!” said Lady Haigh sharply. The trooper hesitated for a moment, then assured himself that the archway was not threatened, and dashed across the hall, returning with the motionless body of the boy.
“Bring him inside—quick!” said Lady Haigh authoritatively, moving the curtain aside; and with horrible reluctance Murtiza Khan obeyed, to the accompaniment of a chorus of shrieks from the old women within, who improvised hastily makeshifts for veils. He looked anxiously round for a bed on which to lay the boy, preparatory to an immediate retreat.
“Hold him! You are not to go outside again,” cried Lady Haigh, stamping her foot. “Unlock that door!” she commanded the two old women, pointing to the room where Wazira Begum could be heard beating the woodwork with her fists and demanding furiously to be let out. Hafiza seemed inclined to remonstrate, but Zulika obeyed promptly, and the girl dashed out, with dishevelled hair and bleeding knuckles, bestowing a furious blow on the old nurse as she passed, and nearly knocking her down. Catching sight of her brother, she tore him from the trooper’s arms and pressed him to her breast, crouching in a corner and moaning over him. Lady Haigh laid a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Listen to me, Wazira Begum. Is there any door or gate at the back by which you can let a messenger out?”
“Take thy hand away!” shrieked the girl. “How dost thou dare touch me? It is thou who hast brought all this evil upon us. O my brother, my little brother, do I behold thee dead in my arms?”
“Answer me,” said Lady Haigh, giving her a slight shake. “You can do your brother no good by crying over him.”
“There is a secret door, but the Sheikh alone can enter or depart by it,” was the unwilling reply. “Now leave me to bewail my dead.”
“Then we must let Murtiza Khan down over the wall. Wazira Begum, you must come and show us the best place, and give orders to your women. Your brother is not dead. I saw him move just now.”
“I will not leave him, O accursed Farangi! Why should I desire to save the life of thy servant, who has profaned the very zenana?”
“To save your own life and your brother’s, to say nothing of ours. Murtiza Khan must bear the news of this treachery to Alibad, and bring help, if it can be managed. Come! leave the boy with Hafiza.”
Sullenly and reluctantly Wazira Begum obeyed, and wrapping herself in the veil which Zulika brought her, led the way through the passage. Lady Haigh paused to speak to the old woman—
“Stay at the curtain, and parley with any who may desire to enter. Keep them back at any cost until we return.”
Hurrying after the rest she caught up Murtiza Khan, who was following the women in intense misery, with his eyes on the ground.
“Do you understand, Murtiza Khan? You are to get through to Alibad at any cost, and tell Keeling Sahib that the enemy have surprised Sheikhgarh.”
“How is this?” asked Murtiza Khan. “Does not the Presence know that I was charged to protect her and the Miss Sahib, and how dare I leave them defenceless to the enemy?”
“What could one man do? You could only fight till you were killed.”
“Nay, I could slay both the Presences before the enemy broke in.”
“Thanks, we can do that for ourselves if necessary. There are knives here, at any rate, whatever there may not be. But if the Sahibs are not warned, they will come to Sheikhgarh thinking it is in friendly hands, and will be ambushed in the mountains. That must be prevented.”
“It is the will of the Presence,” said Murtiza Khan, with a resignation as sulky in its way as Wazira Begum’s. The girl had led the way up to the roofs of the buildings surrounding the zenana courtyard, which formed a terrace from which the defence of the place could be carried on. She sprang up on the parapet, and looked over the wall.
“Here is the place,” she said. “My brother Ashraf Ali once dropped a jewel from his turban over the wall, and we let him down to recover it. Bring ropes, O women.”
The servants ran wildly in all directions, and produced a heterogeneous collection of cords, which were knotted together and pieced out with strips torn from sheets. The trooper tested them carefully, and expressed himself as satisfied, only entreating that Lady Haigh would herself hold the cord and give the orders. Then he let himself down over the parapet, hung for a moment to the edge by his fingers, and loosed his hold. Lady Haigh restrained the eagerness of the women who held the rope, insisting that they should pay it out slowly and steadily; and after what seemed an age, the trooper’s voice was heard, telling them to slacken it a little, that he might unfasten it. Then the rope came up again free, and not daring to wait on the wall, Lady Haigh and Wazira Begum left the servants to untie and hide the separate parts, and fled back into the house. Wazira Begum was madly anxious about her brother, and Lady Haigh now remembered that Penelope had not accompanied them to the wall. They both caught sight of her at the same moment, and Wazira Begum sprang forward with a cry of rage, for Penelope was kneeling by the charpoy on which Maadat Ali lay, and binding up his head. The fierce jealousy which made the native girl rush to drive her away did not even occur to her, and she looked up at her with a smile.
“He is only stunned, and he is beginning to come round. Take my place, so that he may see you when he opens his eyes, but don’t startle him. I’m sure he ought to be kept very quiet.”
Her anger disarmed by Penelope’s unsuspiciousness, Wazira Begum obeyed meekly, and kneeling down by the charpoy, murmured endearing epithets as she pressed her lips passionately to her brother’s hands. But Lady Haigh had moved to the curtain, beyond which Zulika had just been summoned by an imperious voice which demanded that some one from the zenana should come forth and speak. The contest in the hall had ended in the triumph of the invaders. The bodies of the dead and dying which cumbered the floor showed that the men of the Mountains had fought hard for their stronghold; but they were much outnumbered, and utterly taken by surprise. Their assailants were evidently kept well in hand by their leader, the man who had been carried in the litter, for instead of dispersing through the fortress in search of loot, they were methodically removing the dead and caring for their own wounded. The wounded among the defenders were promptly despatched. It was the leader who now stood before the curtain, and before whom Zulika grovelled abjectly, her forehead on the ground.
“Who is within?” asked the leader.
“My lord’s servants the daughter and the young son of my master, the Sheikh-ul-Jabal, and the women of the household.”
“No one else? What of the two Farangi ladies who took shelter here last night, and their servant?”
“Truly the wisdom of my lord is as that of Solomon the son of David! The Farangi ladies are indeed within, the guests of my master’s house.”
“And their servant—is he also within?”
“Nay, my lord! A man behind the curtain! Truly the fellow was in this hall before the entrance of my lord, but seeing that there was fighting on foot, doubtless he stole away to hide himself, or it may be he is even among the slain,” lied Zulika glibly.
“I will have search made and a watch kept, and if I find thou hast deceived me——” he laid his sheathed sword lightly across Zulika’s neck, so that she cowered nearer to the floor. “Thou and the children of the impostor may remain here for the present, until the will of his Highness be known; only see to it that ye make no attempt to escape or to send warning to those who are away. But the Farangi women bid to be ready to start on a journey an hour before dawn, for they must go elsewhere.”
“My lord would not slay the women?” ventured the trembling Zulika, with unexpected courage.
“What is that to thee? Enough that they must be kept in safety until it may be seen of what use they are.”
“My lord’s handmaid will carry his commands,” responded Zulika, and returned with her alarming message behind the curtain, where the other servants filled the air with wailing on hearing it. Lady Haigh bade them peremptorily to be still, and turned to Wazira Begum, who was still kneeling beside her brother, assiduously keeping the cloths on his forehead wet, in the way Penelope had shown her.
“Let us talk this over as friends,” she said, “for we are in much the same position. We are to be kept as hostages in order to extract concessions from Major Keeling, and you and your brother, Wazira Begum, as a means of bringing pressure upon the Sheikh-ul-Jabal. At least that shows that he has not been killed or defeated, but I suppose he might return here and be lured into an ambush at any moment. Now think; Murtiza Khan cannot possibly reach Alibad before daylight to-morrow, even if he is not seen and wounded or captured. Major Keeling would never attack a place like this by daylight, so that even if he sent a force to our help at once, we could not be relieved until to-morrow night. Is there any chance of barricading ourselves in the zenana, and holding out for all those hours?”
“Nay,” said Wazira Begum wearily; “we might block up the door with charpoys, and ye might refuse to go out; but they would only need to set fire to the barricade, and then they would break in and slay us all. Do as thou wilt. Who am I to give commands, when thou art present? It shall be done as thou sayest, and my brother and I, and these women, can but die in the hope of saving thee and thy sister.”
“Nonsense!” said Lady Haigh. “If there’s no chance of defending ourselves successfully, of course we won’t attempt it. You know that perfectly well, Wazira Begum, or you wouldn’t have put your lives into my hands in that despairingly confiding way.”
The girl looked slightly ashamed. “Thou art better to me than I deserve, better than I thought thee,” she said. “Were it not for my brother, I would refuse to give you up; but how can I bring death upon him? I will send my handmaid Hafiza with you, to wait upon you and to be your interpreter with the men sent to guard you, for ye are great ladies, and must not speak with them face to face. Also ye shall have bedding, and such other things as this place can supply and ye may desire. And forgive me that I can do no more, for truly woe is come upon this house, and the shadow of death.”
She broke into loud wailing again, in which the other women followed her, and Lady Haigh grew angry.
“Penelope, lie down here and try and get some rest. Wazira Begum, as you are good enough to lend us bedding, please let Hafiza get it out and have it ready to strap on the horses. And tell me, had we better wear veils like yours instead of our hats?”
“Nay, ye would be known everywhere as Farangis by your tight garments, and your manner of sitting on one side of your horses,” said Wazira Begum. “But this is what ye must do.” She unfastened the gauze veil from Lady Haigh’s hat and doubled it. “Now no man can see clearly what manner of woman is beneath.”
This settled, Lady Haigh sat down on the floor, and leaning against the wall, prepared to get a few hours’ uncomfortable and more or less broken sleep, while Hafiza was assisted in her preparations by the other women, who were all much relieved that they had not been chosen to attend the visitors, and were anxious to administer the kind of comfort which is easier to give than to receive. The disturbed night seemed extraordinarily long, but at last the summons came from behind the curtain. Wazira Begum bade farewell to her guests with something of compunction, and pressed upon them a string of pearls, which might serve as currency in case of need. The old women carried out the bundles of bedding, which were tied on a horse in such a way that Hafiza could perch herself on the summit of the load. Then Lady Haigh and Penelope, disguised in their double veils, walked down the hall, and found, to their delight, their own ponies awaiting them. Lady Haigh looked over the harness critically before mounting from the steps, and ordered one or two straps to be tightened—orders which were obeyed, apparently with some amusement, by the men who stood by. The leader of the enemy, who stood on the steps watching the start, gave his final instructions to a man named Nizam-ul-Mulk, who was, it seemed, to escort the ladies with ten men under him, and the gate was opened. Lady Haigh, who was looking about for any chance of escape, saw that every precaution was to be taken for the safe-keeping of the prisoners. On the narrow mountain paths, where it was necessary to ride in single file, there was always one of the guards between herself and Penelope, and when the valley widened, the whole of the escort closed up at once. Several small encampments were passed, from which startled Nalapuris looked out as they heard the horses’ feet to ask if Sinjāj Kīlin was coming; and it was clear that though the enemy might be said to be occupying the hills, there would be no great difficulty in dislodging them. Cowardly though they might be, however, they had the upper hand at present, and Lady Haigh and Penelope felt this bitterly when their party debouched from the hills about dawn, and struck off across the desert towards the north-east, leaving the great mass of the Alibad fort, touched with the sunrise, well to the south.
“If they only knew!” sighed Lady Haigh. “Just across there, and we here! How they would ride if they knew!”
“What is going to happen to us?” asked Penelope. They were riding side by side now, in the midst of their guards.
“Well, the worst that could happen would be that we might be carried right up into Central Asia, which all but happened to the captives in the Ethiopian disaster,” said Lady Haigh, ignoring decisively possibilities even darker, “and I suppose the best that could happen would be that Major Keeling should make terms for us almost at once.”
“But if he had to make concessions, as you said? Ought we to want him to do it?”
“Of course we oughtn’t to, and I don’t—but yet I do. Perhaps he won’t. You see I know already how high-minded my husband can be where I am concerned, but I don’t know what Major Keeling would be willing to do for you.”
“I know. He would refuse, even if it tore his heart out.”
Lady Haigh looked at her curiously. “You seem to know him pretty well,” she said. “Well, it’s something to feel that our poor little fates won’t be permitted to weigh against the safety of the frontier. But what nonsense we are talking!” as Penelope shuddered. “My dear, don’t we know that those two men would invade Central Asia on their own account if we were taken there, and bring us back in triumph? Don’t let us pretend they’re Romans. They’re good Englishmen, and would no more leave us to perish than turn Mohammedan!”
This robust faith, if a little unfortunate in the mode of its expression, was very cheering, and Penelope withdrew her eyes from the fast diminishing fort, and set her face sternly forward. But if there was no sign of a force riding out from Alibad to the rescue, there was a cloud of dust in front which showed that some one was approaching, and the escort were visibly nervous. Seizing the bridles of the ladies’ ponies they urged them aside behind a sandhill, and there waited, gathered in a close group. It was a large company that was coming, and the dust it made was sufficient to have prevented its noticing the smaller party, so that it passed the sandhill without turning aside. A sudden lull in the wind revealed the white mantles and scarlet turbans of the men who composed it when they had gone some distance.
“The Sheikh and his followers!” gasped Penelope. “They will go back to Sheikhgarh and be captured.”
“Not if Murtiza Khan got through,” said Lady Haigh, trying to hide the anxiety in her tone, “for Major Keeling would be certain to send some one to intercept the Sheikh before he could reach the hills. No,” she added acidly, in response to the gesture of Nizam-ul-Mulk, who had tapped a pistol in his girdle significantly as he saw her gazing after the riders, “we are not quite idiots, thank you. It wouldn’t be much good to signal to the Sheikh, who doesn’t know anything about us, and would never think of going out of his way on the chance of helping some one in distress.”
“But he might have told them at Alibad, and they would have known where we were,” suggested Penelope.
“And have come out to find us shot, which wouldn’t be much good,” said Lady Haigh.
They rode on again after this brief halt, taking the direction of Fort Shah Nawaz, but leaving it out of sight on the right hand. The dark rocks which marked the mouth of the Akrab Pass were visible in the distance on the left, and Lady Haigh expected that Nizam-ul-Mulk would lead the way thither. But to her surprise, they still rode straight on, leaving the pass on one side.
“Where are you taking us?” she could not refrain from asking him at last.
“To Kubbet-ul-Haj. There is safe-keeping in Ethiopia for any Farangi prisoner,” answered the man with an insolent laugh, and Lady Haigh grew white under her veil.
“Ethiopia! That means Central Asia, then!” she said. “Never mind, Pen. They’ll catch us up before we get there. We can’t possibly get farther than the Ethiopian frontier to-night, if as far.”
Although she spoke rather to encourage Penelope than because she believed what she said, Lady Haigh proved to be right. The discipline of the guards seemed to disappear as they were farther removed from their leader at Sheikhgarh; and at noon, thinking that all danger was past, they insisted on a rest of two or three hours, despite the remonstrances of Nizam-ul-Mulk. Hence, when evening came on, the Ethiopian frontier was still an hour’s ride away, and they positively refused to attempt to reach it that night, demanding that a camp should be formed on a low hill covered with brushwood—an excellent position both for concealment and for discerning the approach of an enemy. Nizam-ul-Mulk was forced to yield. The horses were picketed in a hollow on the Ethiopian side of the hill, a rude tent was pitched for the ladies, and a due portion of the rough food of the escort sent them through Hafiza. When the comfortless meal was over, they were thankful to lie down, without undressing, on the resais with which Wazira Begum had supplied them; and Hafiza, at any rate, was soon audibly, as well as visibly, asleep. But presently Penelope sat up and said softly, “Elma, are you awake?”
“Ye-es,” responded Lady Haigh sleepily. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, do let us talk a little. I can’t sleep. Elma, if they should separate us—if they are only pretending to go to sleep——”
“Nonsense! after such a day of riding they are as tired as I am, and that’s saying a good deal. Don’t conjure up horrors.”
“But if they took us to different places! Oh, Elma, if I was alone among these people I should die!”
“Oh no, you wouldn’t. You’d get on much better than you think.”
“I couldn’t do anything. You can say what you like to these people and they obey you. No one would obey me.”
“Well, you conquered Wazira Begum, at any rate. I only made her hate me, though she did what I told her.”
“But as long as you’re there, I feel safe—as if you were a man.”
“What a testimony! But, Pen, you’re horribly old-fashioned. You shouldn’t be such a honeysuckle kind of girl—always leaning on some one and clinging to them—and yet you are so obstinate in some ways. I suppose it’s no good telling you to stand up for yourself, though. You seem born to cling. Colin was your prop for a long time, and you let him drag you out to India to marry Ferrers, whom you didn’t want, and he very nearly succeeded. I suppose I’m the support just at present, until Major Keeling comes to the front. He will be a good stout prop, at any rate. I couldn’t stand his domineering ways, but I suppose you like them.”
“Oh yes,” said Penelope thankfully. “You don’t know him. Elma——”
“I know you,” interjected her friend.
“Elma, doesn’t it seem extraordinary that it is only a few weeks since I really wanted to die? It felt as if it was the only way of settling things—as if I ought not to marry him, and yet couldn’t bear not to—and now the only thing I care for is to see him again. I should be perfectly happy——”
“It isn’t extraordinary at all—merely that you’ve come to your senses. My dear, I was in love with Dugald once, you know——”
“But if we should never see them again, either of them! Oh, Elma, if they should never find us! What do you think——?”
“I think you’ll have a touch of fever if you don’t try to go to sleep. Listen to Hafiza. She is going among strangers, just like you and me, but she doesn’t sit up and talk. Say your prayers, and lie down.”
“She can sleep because she has so little to lose, whatever happens. So long as she was kindly treated, I suppose she could make herself happy anywhere.”
“Well, I have about as much to lose as you have,” with a terrific yawn, “and I should very much like to go to sleep.”
“I oughtn’t to be so selfish. But listen, Elma. We’ll take turns to sleep, and then they can’t separate us. I will watch first.”
“Oh, very well. Wake me when you feel drowsy,” and Lady Haigh turned over on her hard couch, and composed herself to sleep. When Penelope roused her, however, it was not to take her turn at watching. She was kneeling beside her, with her lips very close to her ear.
“Elma, wake up! Don’t say anything, but listen. Don’t you hear noises? I’m sure something is going to happen.”