British -- India -- Fiction; India -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
"Never lie if you can help it," he said to himself sardonically. "That
dear old prig Marsden would be shocked at my squaring this business,
though at one stage of the proceedings he tried to do so himself. What
the devil would be the good of an inquiry to any living soul? And as
I've lost a thousand in avoiding one, no one could accuse me of
interested motives. Marsden and I row in the same boat, and if I had
had as much money as he has!-- Well, she is a dear little girl, and
that's a fact."
He called on the dear little girl after leaving the office, and
comforted her greatly by general expressions of hope. They made her
almost more grateful to him than any certainty would have done, for
they showed a more perfect trust in her father's integrity. So even
the young man's caution told in his favour, and he went home very well
satisfied with himself, to await the final explanation that was to
emanate from the Lâlâ's fertile brain. The notes would be found
somewhere, no doubt; or else in looking over his accounts he would
discover a like sum owing to Government which would cause the
disappearance of the apparent deficiency.
But amid all his terror, the Lâlâ had noted John Raby's assertion
that, given a certain conscience, he could make money out of the
restitution; and these idle words stood between him and many a
solution of the difficulty. His soul (if he had one) was full of hate,
a sense of defeat, and a desire for revenge. If only he could devise
some plan by which he could retain the plunder, especially that
thousand-rupee note the white-faced _shaitan_ had given him in
exchange!
Dawn found him still in the upper chamber alone with his faithful
jackal. There was determination in his face and dogged resistance in
Râm Lâl's.
"Fool!" whispered the usurer. "If I fall, where art thou? And I swear
I will let the whole thing go. I have money,--thou hast none. It is
only a year without opium or tobacco, Râmu, and the wife and children
well cared for meanwhile. Are you going to back out of the agreement,
unfaithful to salt?"
"A year is ten years without opium, Lâlâ; and there is no need for
this. I am the scapegoat, it is true, but only for safety."
"Son of owls!" cursed the usurer, still under his breath. "It is for
safety, thy safety as well as mine. For if thou wilt do as I bid thee,
it will tie that _shaitan's_ hands; and if they be not tied, they will
meddle. Besides, the _sahib-logue_ are never satisfied without a
scapegoat, and if some one go not to jail they will inquire; and then,
Râmu, wilt thou fare better? 'Twill be longer in the cells, that is
all. Opium can be smuggled, Râmu! See, I promise five rupees a month
to the warder, and a big caste dinner when thou returnest from the
father-in-law's house [a native euphemism for the jail]. And listen,
Râmu--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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