Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
"Then Ganesha was an owl, and I will tell him so if I ever meet him.
Peroo should not have had a cowree from me; nor will he now unless he
comes to take it."
We were silent for some time, and I could hear the dull blows of the
pickaxe, as the sound was borne by the chill night-wind from the
place where the grave was preparing. He will come, thought I, and his
iniquity will be ended: shame on the cold-blooded coward who can sell
men's lives as he does, without striking a blow against them! As I was
thus musing, our messenger was seen, in the dusky light, returning
at the top of his speed, and alone. "We told you so!" cried both my
associates triumphantly; "we told you how it would be!" I was vexed,
and bit my lips to conceal my chagrin. "Let us hear what he says, at
any rate," said I.
"Well, what news, Junglee?" cried I, as he ran up quite out of breath.
"Wait a moment, Jemadar," said he, "till I can speak: I have run hard."
"Here, drink some water: it will compose you. What has happened. Is
there any alarm?"
"Ah, no alarm," replied the lad, "but listen. I went as fast as I could
without running, for I thought if I appeared out of breath when I
reached him he might suspect something; so when I got to the town gate,
I walked slowly till I reached his shop. He was busy frying kabobs for
some travellers, and told me to go into his private room and wait for
him. In a short time he came to me.
"'Well,' said he, 'what news? Why have you come? The bunij is safe; it
was but just now that one of your scouts came and said he had heard
orders given for his departure to-morrow. What do you want?'
"So I repeated your message, word for word as you delivered it to
me, and he seemed much agitated. He walked up and down the room for
some time, talking to himself, and I could hear the words 'Ganesha,'
'treachery,' once or twice repeated. So at last I grew tired of this,
and said to him, 'I cannot wait, I have orders to return immediately:
will you come or not?' and this stopped him; he turned round and looked
at me severely--
"'Tell me,' said he, 'young man, was Motee-ram present when this
message was delivered?'
"'No, he was not,' I replied.
"'Did he know it?'
"'No; he had not returned from the town when I received it; at any
rate, neither I nor the Jemadar Sahib saw him.'
"'Was Peer Khan present?'
"'No,' said I stoutly, 'he was not.'
"'But he left this place in company with your master.'
"'He may have done so,' said I, 'but I did not see him; I was preparing
the Jemadar's bedding when he returned, and the message was delivered
to me privately; for after he lay down to rest he called to me and
delivered it: and I may as well tell you that he counted out the money
from a bag which was under his pillow.'
"'How much was there set apart for me?'
"'Two hundred and fifty rupees; he was counting more, but he stopped
short, put the rest into the bag, and said it would be enough.'
"'And how much is in the bag?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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