Although called an island, Seringam is in fact a long narrow tongue of land, running between the two branches of the river Kavari. In some places these arms are but a few hundred yards apart, and the island can therefore be defended against an attack along the land. But the retreat of the French by this line was equally difficult, as we held the narrowest part of the neck, two miles from Koiladi.
Upon the south, our forces at Trichinopoli faced the French across the river. Upon the other side of the Kolrun, as the northern arm of the Kavari is called, the French could cross the river and make their retreat, if necessary, in any direction. The two principal roads, however, led from Paichandah, a strong fortified position on the bank of the river, facing the temple of Seringam.
Clive saw that a force crossing the river, and taking up its position on the north, would entirely cut off Law's army in the island; would intercept any reinforcements sent by Dupleix to its rescue; and might compel the surrender of the whole French army. The attempt would, of course, be a dangerous one. The French force was considerably stronger than the English, and were the latter divided into two portions, entirely cut off from each other, the central point between them being occupied by the French, the latter would have an opportunity of throwing his whole force upon one after the other.
This danger would have been so great that, had the French been commanded by an able and active officer, the attempt would never have been made. Law, however, had shown amply that he had neither energy nor intelligence, and Major Lawrence therefore accepted Clive's proposal.
But to be successful, it was necessary that both portions of the English force should be well commanded. Major Lawrence felt confident in his own capacity to withstand Law upon the southern bank, and in case of necessity he could fall back under the guns of Trichinopoli. He felt sure that he could, with equal certainty, confide the command of the other party to Captain Clive. There was, however, the difficulty that he was the junior captain present; and that already great jealousy had been excited, among his seniors, by the rank which he occupied in the councils of Lawrence.
Fortunately, the difficulty was settled by the native allies. Major Lawrence laid his plans before Muhammud Ali and his allies, whose cooperation and assistance were absolutely necessary. These, after hearing the proposal, agreed to give their assistance, but only upon the condition that Clive should be placed in command of the expeditionary party. They had already seen the paralysing effects of the incapacity of some English officers. Clive's defence of Arcot, and the victories of Arni and Kavaripak, had excited their intense admiration, and caused them to place unbounded confidence in him. Therefore they said:
"If Captain Clive commands, we will go—unless he commands, we do not."
Major Lawrence was glad that the pressure thus placed upon him enabled him, without incurring a charge of favouritism, to place the command in the hands of the officer upon whom he most relied.
On the night of the 6th of April Clive set out; with a force composed of four hundred English, seven hundred Sepoys, three thousand Mahratta cavalry, a thousand Tanjore cavalry, six light guns and two heavy ones. Descending the river, he crossed the island at a point three miles to the east of Law's camping ground, and marched to Samieaveram, a town nine miles north of the island, and commanding the roads from the north and east.
The movement was just made in time. Dupleix, utterly disgusted with Law, had resolved to displace him. D'Auteuil, the only officer he had of sufficient high rank to take his place, had not, when previously employed, betrayed any great energy or capacity. It appeared, nevertheless, that he was at any rate superior to Law. On the 10th of April, therefore, he despatched D'Auteuil, with a hundred and twenty French, and five hundred Sepoys, with four guns and a large convoy, to Seringam, where he was to take the command. When he arrived within fifteen miles of Samieaveram, he learned that Clive had possession of that village, and he determined upon a circuitous route, by which he might avoid him. He therefore sent a messenger to Law, to acquaint him with his plans, in order that he might aid him by making a diversion.
Clive, in the meantime, had been at work. On the day after his arrival at Samieaveram, he attacked and captured the temple of Mansurpet, halfway between the village and the island. The temple was lofty, and stood on rising ground, and commanded a range of the country for many miles round.
On its top, Clive established a signal station. Upon the following day he carried the mud fort of Lalgudi, which was situated on the north bank of the river, two miles to the east of Paichandah, which now remained Law's only place of exit from the island.
D'Auteuil, after sending word to Law of his intentions, marched from Utatua, where he was lying, by a road to the west which would enable him to move round Samieaveram to Paichandah. Clive captured one of the messengers, and set off with his force to intercept him. D'Auteuil, however, received information by his spies of Clive's movement, and not wishing to fight a battle in the open, with a superior force, fell back to Utatua, while Clive returned to Samieaveram.
Law, too, had received news of Clive's movement. Here was a chance of retrieving the misfortunes of the campaign. Paichandah being still in his hands, he could sally out with his whole force and that of Chunda Sahib, seize Samieaveram in Clive's absence, and extend his hand to D'Auteuil, or fall upon Clive's rear. Instead of this, he repeated the mistake he had made before Trichinopoli; and, instead of marching out with his whole force, he sent only eighty Europeans, of whom forty were deserters from the English army, and seven hundred Sepoys.
The English returned from their march against D'Auteuil. The greater portion of the troops were housed in two temples, a quarter of a mile apart, known as the Large and Small Pagoda. Clive, with several of his officers, was in a caravansary close to the Small Pagoda.
Charlie's company were on guard, and after paying a visit to the sentries, and seeing that all were on the alert, he returned to the caravansary. The day had been a long one, and the march under the heat of the sun very fatiguing. There was therefore but little conversation, and Charlie, finding, on his return from visiting the sentries, that his leader and the other officers had already wrapped themselves in their cloaks and lain down to rest, imitated their example.
Half an hour later, the French column arrived at Samieaveram. The officer in command was a daring and determined man. Before reaching the place, he had heard that the English had returned; and, finding that he had been forestalled, he might well have returned to Law. He determined, however, to attempt to surprise the camp. He placed his deserters in front, and when the column, arriving near the Sepoy sentinel, was challenged, the officer in command of the deserters, an Irishman, stepped forward, and said that he had been sent by Major Lawrence to the support of Captain Clive. As the other English-speaking soldiers now came up, the sentry and native officer with him were completely deceived, and the latter sent a soldier to guide the column to the English quarter of the camp.
Without interruption, the column marched on through lines of sleeping Sepoys and Mahrattas until they reached the heart of the village. Here they were again challenged. They replied with a volley of musketry into the caravansary, and another into the pagoda. Then they rushed into the pagoda, bayoneting all they found there.
Charlie, who had just dropped off to sleep, sprang to his feet, as did the other officers. While, confused by the noise and suddenness of the attack, others scarcely understood what was happening, Clive's clear head and ready judgment grasped the situation at once.
"Gentlemen," he said calmly, "there is no firing going on in the direction of the Great Pagoda. Follow me there at once."
Snatching up their arms, the officers followed him at a run. The whole village was a scene of wild confusion. The firing round the pagoda and caravansary were continuous. The Mahratta horsemen were climbing into their saddles, and riding away out into the plain; the Sepoys were running hither and thither.
At the pagoda he found the soldiers turning out under arms, and Clive, ordering his officers to do their best to rally the native troops in good order against the enemy, at once moved forward towards the caravansary, with two hundred English troops. On arriving there, he found a large body of Sepoys firing away at random. Believing them to be his own men, for the French and English Sepoys were alike dressed in white, he halted the English a few yards from them, and rushed among them, upbraiding them for their panic, striking them, and ordering them instantly to cease firing, and to form in order.
One of the Sepoy officers recognized Clive to be an Englishman, struck at him, and wounded him with his sword. Clive, still believing him to be one of his own men, was furious at what he considered an act of insolent insubordination; and, seizing him, dragged him across to the Small Pagoda to hand him over, as he supposed, to the guard there. To his astonishment he found six Frenchmen at the gate, and these at once summoned him to surrender.
Great as was his surprise, he did not for a moment lose coolness, and at once told them that he had come to beg them to lay down their arms, that they were surrounded by his whole army, and that, unless they surrendered, his troops would give no quarter. So impressed were the Frenchmen with the firmness of the speaker that three of them at once surrendered, while the other three ran into the temple to inform their commander.
Clive took the three men who had surrendered, and returned to the English troops he had left near the caravansary. The French Sepoys had discovered that the English were enemies, and had moved quietly off.
Confusion still reigned. Clive did not imagine, for a moment, that so daring an assault could have been made on his camp by a small body of enemies, and expected every moment an attack by Law's whole force. The commander of the French, in the pagoda, was disturbed by the news brought in by the three men from the gate, and despatched eight of his most intelligent men to ascertain exactly what was going on.
These, however, fell into the hands of the English; and the officer of the party, not knowing that the Small Pagoda was in the hands of the French, handed them over to a sergeant, and told him to take a party and escort his eight prisoners, and the three Captain Clive had captured, to that pagoda for confinement there.
Upon arrival at the gate the Frenchmen at once joined their comrades, and these latter were also so bewildered at the affair, that they allowed the English sergeant and his guard to march off again, unmolested.
By this time, owing to the absence of all resistance elsewhere, Clive had learnt that the whole of the party who had entered the camp were in the Lesser Pagoda; and, as he was still expecting, momentarily, to be attacked by Law's main army, he determined to rid himself of this enemy in his midst. The pagoda was very strong, and only two men could enter abreast. Clive led his men to the attack, but so well did the French defend themselves that, after losing an officer and fifteen men, Clive determined to wait till morning.
The French officer, knowing that he was surrounded, and beyond the reach of all assistance, resolved upon cutting a way through, and at daylight his men sallied out from the temple. So fierce, however, was the fire with which the English received him, that twelve of his men were instantly killed, and the rest ran back into the temple.
Clive, hoping that their commander would now surrender without further effusion of blood, advanced to the gateway and entered the porch to offer terms. He was himself so faint, from the loss of blood from his wounds, that he could not stand alone, but leaned against a wall, supported by two sergeants. The officer commanding the deserters came out to parley, but, after heaping abuse upon Clive, levelled his musket and discharged it at him. He missed Clive, but killed the two sergeants who were supporting him.
The French officer in command, indignant at this conduct, rushed forward at once to disavow it; and stated that he had determined to defend the post to the last, solely for the sake of the deserters, but that the conduct of their officer had released him from that obligation, and he now therefore surrendered at once.
The instant day broke, and Clive saw that Law was not, as he expected, at hand, he despatched the Mahratta horse in pursuit of the French Sepoys. These were overtaken and cut to pieces, and not one man, of the force which Law had despatched against Clive returned to the island.
The English loss was heavy. The greater portion of the occupants of the Small Pagoda were bayoneted by the French, when they entered; and, as fifteen others were killed in the attack, it is probable that at least one-fourth of the English force under Clive were killed.
Clive's own escapes were extraordinary. In addition to those of being killed by the French Sepoys, among whom he ran by mistake, and of death at the hands of the treacherous deserter, he had one almost as close, when the French fired their volley into the caravansary. A box at his feet was shattered, and a servant who slept close to him was killed.
Some days passed, after this attack, without any fresh movement on either side. Major Lawrence then determined to drive back D'Auteuil. He did not despatch Clive against him, as this would involve the risk that Law might again march out to surprise Samieaveram. He therefore directed Clive to remain at that place and watch the island, while he sent a force of a hundred and fifty English, four hundred Sepoys, five hundred Mahrattas, with four guns, to attack D'Auteuil; from his own force, under Captain Dalton. This officer, in the advance, marched his troops near Samieaveram; and, making as much show with them as he could, impressed D'Auteuil with the idea that the force was that of Clive.
Accordingly, he broke up his camp at Utatua in the night, abandoned his stores, and retreated hastily upon Valconda. Dalton then marched to Samieaveram, and placed his force at Clive's disposal; and, to prevent any disputes arising as to precedence and rank, offered himself to serve under him as a volunteer.
Not only D'Auteuil, but Law, was deceived by Dalton's march. From the lofty towers of Seringam he saw the force marching towards Utatua, believed that Clive with his whole force had left Samieaveram, and did now what he should have before done—crossed the river with all his troops.
Clive's lookout on the temple of Mansurpet perceived what was going on, and signalled the news to Clive, who at once set out with his whole force; and, before Law was prepared to issue out from Paichandah, Clive was within a mile of that place. Law might still have fought with a fair chance of success, as he was far stronger than his enemy, but he was again the victim of indecision and want of energy, and, covered by Paichandah, he fell back across the river again.
On the 15th of May Clive captured Paichandah, and then determined to give a final blow to D'Auteuil's force; which had, he learned, again set out to endeavour to relieve Law. He marched to Utatua to intercept him.
D'Auteuil, hearing of his coming, instantly fell back again to Valconda. The native chief of this town, however, seeing that the affairs of the French were desperate; and willing, like all his countrymen, to make his peace with the strongest, had already accepted bribes from the English; and upon D'Auteuil's return, closed the gates and refused to admit him. Clive soon arrived, and D'Auteuil, caught between two fires, surrendered with his whole force.
Had Law been a man of energy, he had yet a chance of escape. He had still seven or eight hundred French troops with him, two thousand Sepoys, and four thousand of Chunda Sahib's troops. He might, then, have easily crossed the Kavari at night and fallen upon Lawrence, whose force there now was greatly inferior to his own. Chunda Sahib, in vain, begged him to do so. His hesitation continued until, three days after the surrender of D'Auteuil, a battering train reached Lawrence; whereupon Law at once surrendered, his chief stipulation being that the life of Chunda Sahib should be spared.
This promise was not kept. The unfortunate prince had preferred to surrender to the Rajah of Tanjore, who had several times intrigued secretly with him, rather than to Muhammud Ali or the English, whom he regarded as his implacable enemies. Had he placed himself in our hands, his life would have been safe. He was murdered, by the treacherous rajah, within twenty-four hours of his surrender.
With the fall of Seringam terminated the contest for the supremacy of the Carnatic, between the English and French, fighting respectively on behalf of their puppets, Muhammud Ali and Chunda Sahib. This stage of the struggle was not a final one; but both by its circumstances, and by the prestige which we acquired in the eyes of the natives, it gave us a moral ascendency which, even when our fortunes were afterwards at their worst, was never lost again.
Muhammud Ali had, himself, gained but little in the struggle. He was, indeed, nominally ruler of the Carnatic, but he had to rely for his position solely on the support of the English bayonets. Indeed, the promises, of which he had been obliged to be lavish to his native allies, to keep them faithful to his cause, when that cause seemed all but lost, now came upon him to trouble him; and so precarious was his position, that he was obliged to ask the English to leave two hundred English troops, and fifteen hundred of their Sepoys, to protect the place against Murari Reo, and the Rajahs of Mysore and Tanjore.
The fatigues of the expedition had been great and, when the force reached the seacoast, Major Lawrence was forced to retire to Fort Saint David to recover his health; while Clive, whose health had now greatly broken down, betook himself to Madras; which had, when the danger of invasion by the French was at an end, become the headquarters of the government of the presidency.
There were, however, two French strongholds dangerously near to Madras, Covelong and Chengalpatt. Two hundred recruits had just arrived from England, and five hundred natives had been enlisted as Sepoys. Mr. Saunders begged Clive to take the command of these, and reduce the two fortresses. He took with him two twenty-four pounders, and four officers, of whom two were Charlie Marryat and Peters; to both of whom Clive was much attached, owing to their courage, readiness, and good humour.
Covelong was first attacked. It mounted thirty guns, and was garrisoned by fifty French, and three hundred Sepoys.
"I don't like the look o' things, Mr. Charles," Tim Kelly said. "There's nothing but boys altogether, white and black. Does it stand to reason that a lot of gossoons, who haven't learnt the goose step, and haven't as much as a shred of faith, ayther in themselves or their officers, are fit to fight the French?"
"Oh, I don't know, Tim," Charlie said. "Boys are just as plucky as men, in their way, and are ready to do all sorts of foolhardy things, which men would hesitate to attempt."
"And that is so, Mr. Charles, when they've only other boys to dale with; but as they're growing up, they take some time before they're quite sure they're a match for men. That's what it is, yer honor, I tell ye, and you will see it, soon."
Tim's predictions were speedily verified. The very morning after they arrived before the fort, the garrison made a sally, fell upon the troops, and killed one of their officers.
The whole of the new levies took to their heels, and fled away from the fight. Clive, with his three officers, threw himself among them and, for some time, in vain attempted to turn the tide. It was not, indeed, until several had been cut down that the rout was arrested, and they were brought back to their duty.
A day or two later a shot, striking a rock, killed or wounded fourteen men; and excited such a panic, that it was some time before the rest would venture near the front.
The enemy, with a considerable force, marched from Chengalpatt to relieve the place. Clive left half his force to continue the siege, and with the rest marched out and offered battle to the relieving force. Daring and confidence, as usual, prevailed. Had the enemy attacked, there is little doubt they would have put Clive's raw levies to flight. They were, however, cowed by his attitude of defiance, and retreated hastily.
The governor of Covelong at once lost heart and surrendered the place; which he might have maintained, for months, against the force before it; and on the fourth day of the siege, capitulated.
A few hours afterwards the enemy from Chengalpatt, ignorant of the fall of the fort, again advanced; and Clive met them with his whole force. Taken by surprise, they suffered heavily. Clive pursued them to the gates of their fort, to which he at once laid siege.
Fortunately for the English, the commander of this place, like him of Covelong, was cowardly and incapable. Had it not been so, the fort, which was very strong, well provisioned, and well garrisoned, might have held out for an indefinite time. As it was, it surrendered on the fourth day, and Clive took possession on the 31st of August.
He returned to Madras, and there, a short time afterwards, married Miss Maskelyne. Finding his health, however, continuing to deteriorate, he sailed for Europe in February, 1753. It was but five years since he had first taken up arms to defend Fort Saint David, an unknown clerk, without prospects and without fortune, utterly discontented and disheartened.
Madras was in the hands of the French. Everywhere their policy was triumphant, and the soil surrounded by the walls of Saint David's, alone, remained to the English in Southern India. In the five years which had elapsed, all had changed. The English were masters of the Carnatic. The French were broken and discredited. The English were regarded by the natives throughout the country as the coming power; and of this great change, no slight portion was due to the energy and genius of Clive, himself.
A few days after the return of the expedition against Covelong and Chengalpatt, Charlie received a note from Governor Saunders, requesting him to call upon him at eleven o'clock. Charlie, of course, attended at Government House at the time named, and found Captain Clive with Mr. Saunders.
"I have sent for you, Mr. Marryat, to ask you if you are ready to undertake a delicate, and somewhat dangerous, mission. Captain Clive tells me that he is convinced that you will be able to discharge the duties satisfactorily. He has been giving me the highest report of your conduct and courage, and he tells me that you speak the language with some facility."
"I have been working hard, sir," Charlie said, "and have had a moonshee for the last year; and as, except when on duty, I have spoken nothing but the native language with him, I can now speak it almost as fluently as I can English."
"So Captain Clive has been telling me," Mr. Saunders said; "and it is, indeed, on that ground that I select you for the service. Your friend Mr. Peters has equally distinguished himself in the field, Captain Clive tells me, but he is greatly your inferior in his knowledge of the vernacular."
This was indeed the case. Peters had but little natural aptitude for foreign languages; and after working hard, for a time, with the moonshee, he found that he was making so little progress, in comparison with Charlie, that he lost heart; and although he had continued his lessons with the moonshee, he had done so only to the extent of an hour or so a day, whereas Charlie had devoted his whole leisure time to the work.
"The facts of the case are these, Mr. Marryat. Owing to the failure, of Muhammud Ali, to fulfil the ridiculously onerous terms extorted from him, by some of his native allies, during the siege of Trichinopoli, several of them are in a state of discontent, which is likely soon to break out into open hostilities. The Rajahs of Mysore and Tanjore are, I have learned, already in communication with Pondicherry; and will, I believe, shortly acknowledge the son of Chunda Sahib, whom Dupleix has declared ruler of the Carnatic. Murari Reo has already openly joined the French. Their influence in the Deccan is now so great that Bussy may be said to rule there.
"Now, there is a chief named Boorhau Reo, whose territory lies among the hills, and extends from the plain nearly up to the plateau land of the Deccan. His position, like that of many of the other small rajahs, is precarious. In days like the present, when might makes right, and every petty state tries to make profit out of the constant wars, at the expense of its neighbour, the position of a chief, surrounded by half a dozen others more powerful than himself, is by no means pleasant. Boorhau Reo feels that he is in danger of being swallowed, by the nizam or by the Mahrattas, and he earnestly desires to ally himself with us; believing, as he says, that we are destined to be masters here. I have assured him that, although gratified at his expressions of friendship, we can enter into no alliance with him. The position of his territory would enable him to be of great assistance to us, in any war in which the whole force of the Deccan, controlled as it is at present at Bussy, might be utilized against us in the Carnatic. He would be able to harass convoys, cut communications, and otherwise trouble the enemy's movements. But, although we see that his aid would be very useful to us, in case of such a war; we do not see how, on our part, we could give him any protection. We have now, with the greatest difficulty, brought affairs to a successful conclusion in the Carnatic; but Dupleix is active and energetic, and well supported at home. Many of the chiefs lately our allies have, as I have just said, declared against us, or are about to do so; and it is out of the question, for us to think of supporting a chief so far removed from us as Boorhau. I have, therefore, told him that we greatly desire his friendship, but are at present powerless to protect him, should he be attacked by his northern neighbours.
"He is particularly anxious to train his men after the European fashion, as he sees that our Sepoys are a match for five times their number of the untrained troops of the Indian princes.
"This brings me to the subject before us. I have written to him, to say that I will send to him an English officer, capable of training and leading his troops, and whose advice may be useful to him upon all occasions; but that as, were it known that he had received a British officer, and was employing him to train his troops, it would excite the instant animosity of Bussy and of the Peishwar; I should send one familiar with the language, and who may pass as a native. Captain Clive has strongly recommended you for this difficult mission."
"I fear, sir, that I could hardly pass as a native. The moonshee is constantly correcting mistakes which I make, in speaking."
"That may be so," Mr. Saunders said; "but there are a score of dialects in Southern India, and you could be passed upon nineteen of the twenty peoples who speak them, as belonging to one of the other."
"If you think, sir, that I shall do," Charlie said; "I shall be glad to undertake the mission."
"Very well, Mr. Marryat, that is understood, then. You will receive full instructions in writing, and will understand that your duty is not only to drill the troops of this chief; but to give him such advice as may suit his and our interests; to strengthen his good feeling towards us; and to form, as far as possible, a compact little force which might, at a critical moment, be of immense utility. You will, of course, master the geography of the country, of which we are all but absolutely ignorant; find out about the passes, the mountain paths, the defensible positions. All these things may someday be of the highest importance.
"You will have a few days to make your arrangements, and settle as to the character you will adopt. This you had better do, in consultation with someone who thoroughly understands the country. It is intended that you shall go down to Trichinopoli, with the next convoy; and from there make your way to the stronghold of Boorhau."
"Shall I take any followers with me?"
"Yes," Mr. Saunders said. "As you will go in the character of a military adventurer, who has served among our Sepoys long enough to learn European drill, you had better take two, three, or four men, as you like, with you as retainers. You might pick out two or three trusty men, from the Sepoys you command."
Charlie left Government House in high spirits. It was certainly an honor, to have been selected for such a post. It was quite possible that it would be a dangerous one. It was sure to be altogether different from the ordinary life of a subaltern in the Company's army.
Peters was very sorry when he heard from Charlie that they were, at last, to be separated. It was now nearly two years since they had first met on board the Lizzie Anderson; and, since that time, they had been constantly together, and were greatly attached to each other.
Charlie, perhaps, had taken the lead. The fact of his having a stock of firearms, and being able to lend them to Peters, had given him, perhaps, the first slight and almost imperceptible advantage. His feat of jumping overboard, to rescue Tim Kelly, had been another step in advance; and, although Charlie would have denied it himself, there was no doubt that he generally took the lead, and that his friend was accustomed to lean upon him, and to look to him always for the initiative. It was, therefore, a severe blow to Peters, to find that Charlie was about to be sent on detached service.
As for Tim Kelly, he was uproarious in his grief, when he heard that he was to be separated from his master.
"Shure, Mr. Charlie, ye'll never have the heart to lave a poor boy, that sarved ye be night and day for eighteen months. Tim Kelly would gladly give his life for ye, and ye wouldn't go and lave him behind ye, and go all alone among these black thaves of the world."
"But it is impossible that I can take you, Tim," Charlie said. "You know, yourself, that you cannot speak ten words of the language. How then could you possibly pass undetected, whatever disguise you put on?"
"But I'd never open my mouth at all, at all, yer honor, barring for mate and drink."
"It's all very well for you to say so, Tim," Charlie answered; "but I do not think that anything, short of a miracle, would silence your tongue. But leave us now, Tim, and I will talk the matter over with Mr. Peters. I should be glad enough to have you with me, if we could arrange it."
The moonshee was taken into their counsels, and was asked his opinion as to the disguise which Charlie could adopt, with least risk of detection. The moonshee replied that he might pass as a Bheel. These hill tribes speak a dialect quite distinct from that of the people around them, and the moonshee said that, if properly attired, Charlie would be able to pass anywhere for one of these people; provided, always, that he did not meet with another of the same race.
"You might assert," he said, "that your father had taken service with some rajah on the plain, and that you had there learned to speak the language. In this way, you would avoid having to answer any difficult questions regarding your native place; but as to that, you can get up something of the geography before you leave."
"There are several Bheels among our Sepoys," Charlie said. "I can pick out three or four of them, who would be just the men for me to take. I believe they are generally very faithful, and attached to their officers."
When Tim again entered the room, he inquired anxiously if his master hit upon any disguise which would suit him.
"What do you say, Mr. Moonshine?" Tim said.
The moonshee shook his head. Between these two a perpetual feud had existed, ever since the native had arrived at Arcot, to take his place as a member of Charlie's establishment. In obedience to Charlie's stringent orders, Tim never was openly rude to him; but he never lost an opportunity of making remarks, of a disparaging nature, as to the value of Charlie's studies.
The moonshee, on his part, generally ignored Tim's existence altogether; addressing him, when obliged to do so, with a ceremonious civility which annoyed Tim more than open abuse would have done.
"I think," he said gravely, in reply to Tim's demand; "that the very worshipful one would have most chance of escaping detection if he went in rags, throwing dust on his hair, and passing for one afflicted."
"And what does he mean by afflicted, Mr. Charles?" the Irishman said wrathfully, as the two young officers laughed.
"He means one who is a born fool, Tim."
Tim looked furiously at the moonshee.
"It would," the latter said sententiously, "be the character which the worshipful one would support with the greatest ease."
"The black thief is making fun of me," Tim muttered; "but I'll be aven with him one of these days, or my name isn't Tim Kelly.
"I was thinking, yer honor, that I might represent one deaf and dumb."
"But you're always talking, Tim, and when you're not talking to others, you talk to yourself. It's quite impossible you could go as a dumb man; but you might go, as the moonshee suggests, as a half-witted sort of chap; with just sense enough to groom a horse and look after him, but with not enough to understand what's said to you, or to answer any questions."
"I could do that asy enough, Mr. Charles."
"And you have to keep from quarrelling, Tim. I hear you quarrelling, on an average, ten times a day; and as, in such a character as we're talking about, you would, of course, be exposed to all sorts of slights and unpleasantnesses, you would be in continual hot water."
"Now, yer honor," Tim said reproachfully, "you're too hard on me, entirely. I like a bit of a row as well as any many, but it's all for divarsion; and I could go on, for a year, without quarrelling with a soul. Just try me, Mr. Charles. Just try me for a month, and if, at the end of that time, you find me in your way; or that I don't keep my character, then send me back agin to the regiment."
It was arranged that the moonshee should remain with Peters, who, seeing that Charlie owed his appointment, to a post which promised excitement and adventure, to his skill in the native languages, was determined that he would again set to, in earnest, and try and master its intricacies. The moonshee went down to the bazaar, and purchased the clothes which would be necessary for the disguises; and Charlie found, in his company, four Sepoys who willingly agreed to accompany him, in the character of his retainers, upon his expedition. As to their costume, there was no difficulty. When off duty, the Sepoys in the Company's service were accustomed to dress in their native attire. Consequently, it needed only the addition of a tulwar, or short curved sword; a shield, thrown over one shoulder; a long matchlock; and two or three pistols and daggers, stuck into a girdle, to complete their equipment.
Charlie himself was dressed gaily, in the garb of a military officer in the service of an Indian rajah. He was to ride, and a horse, saddle, and gay housings were procured. He had, at last, given in to Tim's entreaties; and that worthy was dressed as a syce, or horse keeper.
Both Charlie and Tim had had those portions of their skin exposed to the air darkened, and both would pass muster, at a casual inspection. Charlie, in thus concealing his nationality, desired only to hide the fact that he was an officer in the Company's service. He believed that it would be impossible for him to continue to pass as a Bheel. This, however, would be of no consequence, after a time. Many of the native princes had Europeans in their service. Runaway sailors, deserters from the English, French, and Dutch armed forces in their possessions on the seacoast, adventurers influenced either by a love of a life of excitement, or whom a desire to escape the consequences of folly or crime committed at home had driven to a roving life—such men might be found in many of the native courts.
Once settled, then, in the service of the rajah, Charlie intended to make but little farther pretence, or secrecy, as to his nationality. Outwardly, he would still conform to the language and appearance of the character he had chosen; but he would allow it to be supposed that he was an Englishman, a deserter from the Company's service, and that his comrades were Sepoys in a similar position. His employment, then, at the court of the rajah, would have an effect the exact reverse of that which it would have done, had he appeared in his proper character.
Deserters were, of all men, the most opposed to their countrymen, to whom they had proved traitors. In battle they could be relied upon to fight desperately, for they fought with ropes round their necks. Therefore, while the appearance of an English officer, as instructor of the forces of the rajah, would have drawn upon himself the instant hostility of all opposed to the British; the circulation of a report that his troops were being disciplined by some English and native deserters, from the Company's forces, would excite no suspicion whatever.
To avoid attracting attention, Charlie Marryat and his party set out before daylight from Madras. Their appearance, indeed, would have attracted no attention, when they once had passed beyond the boundaries of the portion of the town occupied by the whites. In the native quarter, the appearance of a small zemindar, or landowner, attended by four or five armed followers on foot, was of such common occurrence as to attract no attention whatever; and, indeed, numbers of these come in to take service in the Sepoy regiments, the profession of arms being always considered honorable, in India.
For a fortnight they travelled, by easy stages, without question or suspicion being excited that they were not what they seemed. They were now among the hills, and soon arrived at Ambur, the seat of the rajah. The town was a small one, and above it rose the fortress, which stood on a rock rising sheer from the bottom of the valley, and standing boldly out from the hillside. The communication was effected by a shoulder which, starting from a point halfway up the rock, joined the hill behind it. Along this shoulder were walls and gateways. An enemy attacking these would be exposed to the fire from the summit of the rock. From the point where the shoulder joined the rock, a zigzag road had been cut, with enormous labour, in the face of the rock, to the summit.
"It is a strong place," Charlie said to Tim Kelly, who was walking by his horse's head; "and should be able to hold out against anything but starvation. That is to say, if properly defended."
"It's a powerful place, surely," Tim said; "and would puzzle the ould boy himself to take. Even Captain Clive, who is afeard of nothing, would be bothered by it."
As they rode up the valley, two horsemen were seen spurring towards them, from the town. They drew rein before Charlie; and one, bowing, said:
"My master, the rajah, sends his greeting to you, and begs to know if you are the illustrious soldier, Nadir Ali, for whom his heart has been longing."
"Will you tell your lord that Nadir Ali is here," Charlie said, "and that he longs to see the face of the rajah."
One of the horsemen at once rode off, and the other took his place by the side of Charlie; and, having introduced himself as captain of the rajah's bodyguard, rode with him through the town.
Had Charlie appeared in his character as English officer, the rajah and all his troops would have turned out to do honor to his arrival. As it was, a portion of the garrison, only, appeared at the gate and lined the walls. Through these the little party passed, and up the sharp zigzags, which were so steep that, had it not been that his dignity prevented him from dismounting, Charlie would gladly have got off and proceeded on foot; for it was as much as the animal could do, to struggle up the steep incline.
At each turn there was a gateway, with little flanking towers; on which jingalls, or small wall pieces, commanded the road.
"Faith, then, it's no fool that built this place. I shouldn't like to have to attack it, wid all the soldiers of the King's army, let alone those of the Company."
"It is tremendously strong, Tim, but it is astonishing what brave men can do."
In the after wars which England waged, in India, the truth of what Charlie said was over and over again proved. Numerous fortresses, supposed by the natives to be absolutely impregnable, and far exceeding in strength that just described, have been carried by assault, by the dash and daring of English troops.
They gained, at last, the top of the rock. It was uneven in surface, some portions being considerably more elevated than others. Roughly, its extent was about a hundred yards, either way. The lower level was covered with buildings, occupied by the garrison, and storehouses. On the upper level, some forty feet higher, stood the palace of the rajah. It communicated with the courtyard, below, by a broad flight of steps. These led to an arched gateway, with a wall and battlements; forming an interior line of defence, should an assailant gain a footing in the lower portion of the stronghold.
Alighting from his horse at the foot of the steps, Charlie, followed by his five retainers, mounted to the gateway. Here another guard of honor was drawn up. Passing through these, they entered a shady courtyard, on one side of which was a stone pavilion. The flat ceiling was supported by massive columns, closely covered with intricate sculpture. The roof was arabesqued with deeply cut patterns, picked out in bright colours. A fountain played in the middle.
On the farther side the floor, which was of marble, was raised; and two steps led to a wide recess, with windows of lattice stonework, giving a view over the town and valley below. In this recess were piles of cushions and carpets, and here reclined the rajah, a spare and active-looking man, of some forty years old. He rose, as Charlie approached, the soldiers and Sepoys remaining beyond the limits of the pavilion.
"Welcome, brave Nadir Ali," he said courteously; "my heart is glad, indeed, at the presence of one whose wisdom is said to be far beyond his years, and who has learned the arts of war of the infidels from beyond the seas."
Then, inviting Charlie to take a seat on the divan with him, he questioned him as to his journey, and the events which were taking place in the plains; until the attendants, having handed round refreshments, retired at his signal.
"I am glad to see you, Sahib," he said, when they were alone; "though, in truth, I looked for one older than yourself. The great English governor of Madras tells me, however, in a letter which I received four days since, that you are skilled in war; that you fought by the side of that great Captain Clive at Arcot, Arni, Kavaripak, and at Trichinopoli; and that the great warrior, himself, chose you to come to me. Therefore, I doubt neither your valour nor your prudence, and put myself in your hands, wholly.
"The governor has already told you, doubtless, of the position in which I am placed here."
"Governor Saunders explained the whole position to me," Charlie said. "You are, at present, menaced on all sides by powerful neighbours. You believe that the fortunes of the English are on the increase; and as you think the time may come, ere long, when they will turn the French out of the Deccan, and become masters there, as they have already become masters in the Carnatic, you wish to fight by their side, and share their fortunes. In the meantime, you desire to be able to defend yourself against your neighbours; for, at present, the English are too far away to assist you.
"To enable you to do this, I have been sent to drill and discipline your troops, like our Sepoys; and to give you such advice as may be best, for the general defence of your country. I have brought with me five soldiers; four Bheels, and one of my countrymen. The latter will be of little use in drilling your troops, for he is ignorant of the language, and has come as my personal attendant. The other four will assist me in my work.
"Your followers here will, no doubt, discover in a very short time that I am an Englishman. Let it be understood that I am a deserter, that I have been attracted to your court by the promise of high pay, and that I have assumed the character of a Bheel, lest my being here might put you on bad terms with the English."
Charlie then asked the rajah as to the strength of his military force.
"In time of peace," the rajah said, "I keep three hundred men under arms. In case of taking the field, three thousand. To defend Ambur against an attack of an enemy, I could muster ten thousand men."
"You could not call out three thousand men, without attracting the attention of your neighbours?" Charlie asked.
"No," the rajah said; "that would bring my neighbours upon me, at once."
"I suppose, however, you might assemble another five hundred men, without attracting attention."
"Oh, yes," the rajah said; "eight hundred men are not a force which could attract any great attention."
"Then I should propose that we begin with eight hundred," Charlie said. "For a month, however, I will confine myself to the troops you at present have. We must, in the first place, train some officers. If you will pick out those to whom you intend to give commands, and subcommands; I will choose from the men, after drilling them for a few days, forty of the most intelligent as what we call noncommissioned officers.
"For the first month, we will work hard in teaching these officers and sub-officers their duties. Then, when the whole eight hundred assemble, we can divide them into four parties. There will be one of my drill instructors to each party, ten under officers, and four or five of the officers whom you will appoint. Six weeks' hard work should make these eight hundred men fairly acquainted with drill. The English Sepoys have often gone out to fight, with less. At the end of the six weeks, let the five hundred men you have called out, in addition to your bodyguard of three hundred, return to their homes; and replace them by an equal number of fresh levies, and so proceed until you have your three thousand fighting men, thoroughly trained. In nine months, all will have had their six weeks of exercise, and could take their places in the ranks again, at a day's notice.
"Two hundred of your men I will train in artillery; although I do not belong to that branch of the service, I learned the duties at Arcot."
The rajah agreed, heartily, to Charlie's proposals; well pleased at the thought that he should, before the end of a year, be possessed of a trained force, which would enable him to hold his own against his powerful neighbours, until an opportunity might occur when, in alliance with the English, he should be able to turn the tables upon them, and to aggrandize himself at their expense.
Handsome rooms, with a suite of attendants, were assigned to Charlie in the rajah's palace; and he was formally appointed commander of his forces. The four Sepoys were appointed to junior ranks, as was also Tim Kelly; who, however, insisted on remaining in the position of chief attendant upon his master; being, in fact, a sort of majordomo and valet in one, looking after his comforts when in the palace, and accompanying him as personal guard whenever he rode out.
"You niver know, yer honor, what these natives may be up to. They'll smile with you one day, and stab ye the next. They're treacherous varmint, yer honor, if you do but give 'em the chance."
At first, Charlie perceived that his position excited some jealousy in the minds of those surrounding the rajah. He therefore did all in his power to show to them that he, in no way, aspired to interfere in the internal politics or affairs of the little state—that he was a soldier and nothing more. He urged upon the rajah, who wished to have him always by him, that it was far better that he should appear to hold aloof, and to avoid all appearance of favouritism, or of a desire to obtain dominance in the counsels of the rajah. He wished that the appointments to the posts of officers in the new force should be made by the rajah, who should lend an ear to the advice of his usual councillors; but that, once appointed, they should be under his absolute command and control, and that he should have power to dismiss those who proved themselves indolent and incapable, to promote active and energetic men, wholly regardless of influence or position.
The next morning, Charlie and his four assistants set to work to drill the three hundred men of the garrison, taking them in parties of twenty. They were thus able, in the course of a few days, to pick out the most active and intelligent for the sub-officers; and these, with the existing officers of the body, and the new ones appointed by the rajah, were at once taken in hand to be taught their duty.
For a month, the work went on steadily and without interruption, and from morn till night the courtyard echoed with the words of command. At the end of that time, the twenty officers and forty sub-officers had fairly learned their duty. The natives of India are very quick in learning drill, and a regiment of newly-raised Sepoys will perform manoeuvres and answer to words of command, in the course of a fortnight, as promptly and regularly as would one of English recruits in three months.
A good many changes had taken place during the month's work. Many of the officers became disgusted with hard and continuous work, to which they were unaccustomed, while some of the sub-officers showed a deficiency of the quickness and intelligence needed for the work. Their places, however, were easily filled, and as the days went on, all took an increasing degree of interest, as they acquired facility of movement, and saw how quickly, according to the European methods, manoeuvres were gone through. At the end of a month, then, the sixty men were able in turn to instruct others; and, a body of five hundred men being called out, the work of drilling on a large scale began.
The drill ground now was a level space in the valley below the town, and the whole population assembled, day after day, to look on with astonishment at the exercises. The four great companies, or battalions, as Charlie called them, were kept entirely separate, each under the command of one of the Sepoys, under whom were a proportion of the officers and sub-officers. Every evening, Charlie came down for an hour, and put each body through its drill, distributing blame or praise as it was deserved, thus keeping up a spirit of emulation between the battalions. At the end of a fortnight, when the simpler manoeuvres had been learned, Charlie, for two hours each day, worked the whole together as one regiment; and was surprised, himself, to find how rapid was the progress which each day effected.
The rajah himself often came down to the drill ground, and took the highest interest in the work. He himself would fain have had regular uniforms, similar to those worn by the Sepoys in the service of the European powers, provided for the men; but Charlie strongly urged him not to do so. He admitted that the troops would look immensely better, if clad in regular uniform; than as a motley band, each dressed according to his own fancy. He pointed out, however, that while the news that the rajah was having some of his men drilled by European deserters would attract but little attention among his neighbours, the report that he was raising Sepoy battalions would certainly be received by them in a hostile spirit.
"By all means," Charlie said, "get the uniforms made for the whole force, and keep them by you in store. They can be at once served out in case of war, and the sight of a number of Sepoy battalions, where they expected only to meet an irregular force, will have an immense effect upon any force opposed to you."
The rajah saw the force of this argument, and at once ordered five thousand suits of white uniforms, similar to those worn by the Sepoys in the English and French service, to be made and stored up in the magazines.
While his lieutenants were drilling the main body, Charlie himself took in hand a party of forty picked men, and instructed them in the use of field guns. The superiority of Europeans in artillery was one of the reasons which gave to them such easy victory, in their early battles with the native forces in India. The latter possessed a very powerful artillery, in point of numbers, but there was no regular drill nor manner of loading. They were in the habit, too, of allowing each gun to cool after it was fired, before being loaded again. It was thought, therefore, good practice if a gun were discharged once in a quarter of an hour. They were, then, utterly astounded and dismayed at the effects of the European guns, each of which could be loaded and fired twice, or even three times, a minute.
So month passed after month, until Rajah Boorhau was in a position to put, if necessary, five battalions of Sepoys, each seven hundred strong, into the field; with thirty guns, served by trained artillerymen. So quietly had the work gone on, that it attracted no attention among his neighbours. The mere rumour that the rajah had some European deserters in his service, and that these were drilling four or five hundred men, was considered of so little moment that it passed altogether unheeded.
The accounts of the state of affairs in the Carnatic, which reached Charlie, were not satisfactory—Dupleix, with his usual energy, was aiding the son of Chunda Sahib, with men and money, in his combat with the British protege; and most of the native allies of the latter had fallen away from him. Trichinopoli was again besieged, and the fortunes of England, lately so flourishing, were waning again. In the Deccan, French influence was supreme. Bussy, with a strong and well-disciplined French force, maintained Salabut Jung, whom the French had placed on the throne, against all opponents. At one time it was the Peishwar, at another the Mahrattas against whom Bussy turned his arms; and always with success, and the French had acquired the four districts on the coast, known as the Northern Sircas.
It was in vain that Charlie endeavoured to gain an accurate knowledge of the political position, so quickly and continually did this change. At one time the Peishwar and the Nizam, as the Subadar of the Deccan was now called, would be fighting in alliance against one or other of the Mahratta chiefs. At another time they would be in conflict with each other, while the Rajah of Mysore, Murari Reo, and other chiefs were sometimes fighting on one side, sometimes on another.
Proud of his rapidly increasing force, Boorhau Reo would, more than once in the course of the year, have joined in the warfare going on around. Charlie, however, succeeded in restraining him from doing so; pointing out that the victor of one day was the vanquished of the next, and that it was worse than useless to join in a struggle of which the conditions were so uncertain, and the changes of fortune so rapid, that none could count upon others for aid, however great the assistance they might have rendered only a short time before.
"Were you to gain territory, Rajah, which you might, perhaps, largely do, from the efficient aid which you might render to one party or the other, you would be the object of a hostile combination against which you could not hope to struggle."
The rajah yielded at once to Charlie's arguments; but the influence of the latter added to the hostility, which the favour shown him by the rajah had provoked, among many of the leading men of the state. Where the sides were often so closely balanced as was the case in these intestine struggles, the aid of every rajah, however small his following, was sought by one or other of the combatants; and the counsellors of those able to place a respectable force in the field were heavily bribed, by one side or the other. Those around Rajah Boorhau found their efforts completely baffled by the influence of the English commander of his forces, and a faction of increasing strength and power was formed to overthrow him. The rajah himself had kept his secret well, and one or two, only, of his advisers knew that the Englishman was a trusted agent of the Company.
The soldiers were much attached to their English leader. They found him always just and firm. Complaints were always listened to, tyranny or ill treatment by the officers suppressed and punished, merit rewarded. Among the officers the strictness of the discipline alienated many, who contrasted the easy life which they had led before the introduction of the European system, with that which they now endured. So long as they were engaged in mastering the rudiments of drill they felt their disadvantage; but when this was acquired, each thought himself capable of taking the place of the English adventurer, and of leading the troops he had organized to victory. Already, Charlie had received several anonymous warnings that danger threatened him. The rajah was, he knew, his warm friend; and he, in his delight at seeing the formidable force which had been formed from his irregular levies, had presented him, as a token of his gratitude, with large sums of money.
In those days, this was the method by which Indian princes rewarded European officers who rendered them service, and it was considered by no means derogatory to the latter to accept the money. This was, indeed, the universal custom, and Charlie, knowing that Captain Clive had received large presents of this kind, had no hesitation in following his example. The treasures stored up by many of these Indian princes were immense, and a lac of rupees, equivalent to ten thousand pounds, was considered by no means a large present. Charlie, foreseeing that, sooner or later, the little state would become involved in hostilities, took the precaution of forwarding the money he had received down to Madras; sending it piecemeal, in charge of native merchants and traders. It was, by these, paid into the Madras treasury, where a large rate of interest, for all monies lent by its employees, was given by the Company.
For those at home he felt no uneasiness. It was very seldom that their letters reached him; but he learned that they were still in high favour with his uncle, that his mother continued installed at the head of the house, and that the girls were both at excellent schools.
Charlie mentioned, to the rajah, the rumours which had reached him of a plot against him. The rajah assured him of his own support, under all circumstances, and offered that a strong guard should be placed, night and day, over the apartments he occupied.
This Charlie declined.
"A guard can always be corrupted," he said. "My Irish servant sleeps in my anteroom, my four lieutenants are close at hand, and knowing that the soldiers are, for the most part, attached to me, I do not think that open force will be used. I will, however, cause a large bell to be suspended above my quarters. Its ringing will be a signal that I am attacked, in which case I rely upon your highness putting yourself at the head of the guard, and coming to my assistance."
Tim Kelly was at once furious and alarmed, at the news that danger threatened his master, and took every precaution that he could imagine to ensure his safety. He took to going down to the town, himself, to purchase provisions; and, so far as possible, prepared these himself. He procured two or three monkeys, animals which he held in horror, and offered them a portion of everything that came on the table, before he placed it before his master.
Charlie at first protested against this, as his dinner became cold by waiting; but Tim had an oven prepared, and ordered dinner half an hour before the time fixed by his master. Each dish as brought in was, after a portion had been given to a monkey, placed in the oven, and thus half an hour was given to allow the poison to work. This was done without Charlie's knowledge, the oven being placed in the anteroom, and the dishes thence brought in, in regular order, by the body servant, whom even Tim allowed to be devoted to his master.
One day, Charlie was just sitting down to his soup, when Tim ran in.
"For the love of Heaven, Mr. Charles, don't put that stuff to your mouth. It's pisoned, or, at any rate, if it isn't, one of the other dishes is."
"Poisoned, Tim! Nonsense, man. You are always thinking of poisonings and plots."
"And it's lucky for your honor that I am," Tim said. "Jist come into the next room, and look at the monkeys."
Charlie went in. One of the little creatures was lying upon the ground, evidently in a state of great agony. The other was sitting up, rocking itself backwards and forwards, like a human being in pain.
"They look bad, poor little beasts," Charlie said; "but what has that got to do with my soup?"
"Shure, yer honor, isn't that jist what I keep the cratures for, just to give them a taste of everything yer honor has, and I claps it into the oven there to kape it warm till I've had time to see, by the monkeys, whether it's good."
"It looks very serious," Charlie said, gravely. "Do you go quietly out, Tim, call two men from the guardhouse, and seize the cook; and place one or two men as sentries over the other servants. I will go across to the rajah."
The latter, on hearing what had happened, ordered the cook to be brought before him, together with the various dishes prepared for the dinner. The man, upon being interrogated, vehemently denied all knowledge of the affair.
"We shall see," the rajah said. "Eat up that plate of soup."
The man turned pale.
"Your highness will observe," he stammered, "that you have already told me that one of these dishes is poisoned. I cannot say which, and whichever I eat may be the fatal one."
The rajah made a signal to him to obey his orders, but Charlie interposed.
"There is something in what he says, your highness. Whether the man is innocent or guilty, he would shrink equally from eating any of them. It is really possible that he may know nothing of it. The poison may have been introduced into the materials beforehand. If the man is taken to a dungeon, I think I could suggest a plan by which we could test him.
"I believe him to be guilty," he said, when the prisoner had been removed.
"Then why not let him be beheaded at once?" the rajah asked.
"I would rather let ten guilty men escape," Charlie replied, "than run the risk of putting one innocent one to death. I propose, sir, that you order the eight dishes of food, which have been prepared for my dinner, to be carefully weighed. Let these be all placed in the cell of the prisoner, and there let him be left. In the course of two or three days he will, if guilty, endeavour to assuage his hunger by eating little bits of food, from every dish except that which he knows to be poisoned, but will take such a small portion from each that he will think it will not be detected. If he is innocent, and is really ignorant which dish is poisoned, he will not touch any of them, until driven to desperation by hunger. Then he will seize on one or more, and devour them to the end, running the chance of death by poison, rather than endure the pangs of hunger longer."
"Your plan is a wise one," the rajah said. "It shall be tried. Let the dishes be taken to him, every morning, and removed every evening. Each evening they shall be weighed."
These orders were carried out, and on the following morning the dishes were placed in the cell of the prisoner. When removed at night, they were found to be untouched. The next evening several of the dishes were found to have lost some ounces in weight. The third evening all but one had been tasted.
"Let the prisoner be brought in again," the rajah ordered, when informed of this.
"Dog," he said, "you have betrayed yourself. Had you been innocent, you could not have known in which of the dishes the poison had been placed. You have eaten of all but one. If that one contains poison, you are guilty."
Then, turning to an attendant, he ordered him to take a portion of the untouched food, and to throw it to a dog. Pending the experiment, the prisoner was removed. Half an hour later, the attendant returned with the news that the dog was dead.
"The guilt of the man is confirmed," the rajah said. "Let him be executed."
"Will you give him to me, your highness?" Charlie asked. "His death would not benefit me now, and to save his life, he may tell me who is my enemy. It is of no use punishing the instrument, and letting the instigator go free."
"You are right," the rajah agreed. "If you can find out who bribed him, justice shall be done, though it were the highest in the state."
Charlie returned to his own quarters, assembled his lieutenants and several other of his officers, and had the man brought before him.
"Hossein," he said, "you have taken money to take my life. I looked upon you as my faithful servant. I had done you no wrong. It has been proved that you attempted to poison me. You, when driven by hunger, ate small quantities, which you thought would pass unobserved, of all the dishes but one. That dish has been given to a dog, and he has died. You knew, then, which was the poisoned dish. The rajah has ordered your execution. I offer you life, if you will tell me who it was that tempted you."
The prisoner preserved a stolid silence.
"We had better proceed to torture him, at once," one of the rajah's officers said.
The man turned a little paler. He knew well the horrible tortures which would, in such an instance, be inflicted to extort the names of those who had bribed him.
"I will say nothing," he said, firmly, "though you tear me limb from limb."
"I have no intention of torturing you," Charlie said. "A confession extorted by pain is as likely to be false as true, and even did you tell me one name, there might still be a dozen engaged in it who would remain unknown. No, Hossein, you have failed in your duty, you have tried to slay a master who was kind to you, and trusted you."
"No, sahib," the man exclaimed, passionately. "You did not trust me. The food I sent you was tested and tried. I knew it; but I thought that the poison would not have acted on the monkeys, until you had eaten the dish. The fool who sold it me deceived me. Had you trusted me, I would never have done it. It was only when I saw that I was suspected and doubted, without cause, that my heart turned against you, and I took the gold which was offered to me to kill you. I swear it by the Prophet."
Charlie looked at him steadily.
"I believe you," he said. "You were mistaken. I had no suspicions. My servant feared for me, and took these precautions without telling me. However, Hossein, I pardon you, and if you will swear to me to be faithful, in future, I will trust you. You shall again be my cook, and I will eat the food as you prepare it for me."
"I am my lord's slave," the man said in a low tone. "My life is his."
Charlie nodded, and the guard standing on either side of the prisoner stepped back, and without another word he left the room, a free man.
Charlie's officers remonstrated with him upon having not only pardoned the man, but restored him to his position of cook.
"I think I have done wisely," Charlie said. "I must have a cook, for Tim Kelly here is not famous that way; and although he might manage for me, when alone, he certainly could not turn out a dinner which would be suitable, when I have some of the rajah's kinsmen and officers dining with me. Did I get another cook, he might be just as open to the offers of my enemies as Hossein has been; and do you not think that, after what has passed, Hossein will be less likely to take bribes than any other man?"
Henceforth the oven was removed from the antechamber, and Charlie took his meals as Hossein prepared them for him. The man said little, but Charlie felt sure, from the glances that he cast at him, that he could rely upon Hossein now to the death.
Tim Kelly, who felt the strongest doubts as to the prudence of the proceeding, observed that Hossein no longer bought articles from men who brought them up to sell to the soldiers, but that every morning he went out early, and purchased all the supplies he desired from the shopkeepers in the town. Tim mentioned the fact to his master, who said:
"You see, Tim, Hossein has determined that I shall not be poisoned without his knowing it. The little peddlers who come up here with herbs, and spices, and the ingredients for curry, might be bribed to sell Hossein poisoned goods. By going down into the town, and buying in the open market, it is barely possible that the goods could be poisoned. You need have no more anxiety whatever, Tim, as to poison. If the attempt is made again, it will probably be by sword or dagger."
"Well, yer honor," said Tim, "anything's better than pison. I've got to sleep almost with one eye open. And you've got sentries outside your windows. What a pity it is that we ain't in a climate where one can fasten the windows, and boult the shutters! But now the wet season is over again, ye might have yer bed put, as ye did last year, on the roof of your room, with a canopy over it to keep off the dew. Ye would be safe then, except from anyone coming through the room where I sleeps."
Charlie's bedroom was at the angle of a wall, and on two sides he could look down from his windows, two hundred feet, sheer into the valley below. The view from the flat terraced roof was a charming one, and, as Tim said, Charlie had, in the fine weather, converted the terrace into a sleeping room. A broad canopy, supported by poles at the corner, stretched over it, and even in the hottest weather the nights were not unpleasant here.