One of Clive's Heroes: A Story of the Fight for IndiaStrang, Herbert
History
One of Clive's Heroes: A Story of the Fight for India
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; British -- India -- Juvenile fiction; India -- History -- 18th century -- Juvenile fiction
"It is the will of Allah!" said the khansaman resignedly. "I will tell
you. It was not Sinfray Sahib at all. He was at the Nawab’s court at
Murshidabad. He had lent his house to a friend while he was absent.
The friend had a spite against Merriman Sahib, the merchant at Calcutta;
and when the bibi and the chota bibi came down the river he seized them.
Sinfray Sahib believes there was an attack by dacoits; but the bibi’s
peons were carried away by the sahib’s friend: it was he that brought
the evidence against them. The Angrezi sahib induced me to swear
falsely by avouching that Sinfray Sahib was also an enemy of Merriman
Sahib; but when the judge had said his word the sahib bade me keep
silence with my master, for he was ignorant of it all. The Angrezi
sahib is a terrible man: what could I do? I was afraid to speak."
"And what was the name of the Angrezi sahib?"
"His name?--It was Higli--no, Digli Sahib--accursed be the day I first
saw him!"
Desmond drew a long breath.
"And what became of the bibi and the chota bibi?"
"They were taken away."
"Whither?"
"I do not know."
The answer was glib; Desmond thought a little too glib.
"Why then, khansaman," he said, "I fear it would be vain for me to
reason with the man I spoke of. He has eaten the salt of Merriman
Sahib; his lord’s injury is his also. But you acted for the best.
Allah hafiz! that will be a morsel of comfort even if this man’s knife
should find its way between your ribs. Not every dying man has such
consolation. Live in peace, good khansaman."
Desmond, who had been squatting in the Oriental manner--an
accomplishment he had learnt with some pains at Gheria--rose to leave.
The khansaman’s florid cheeks again put on a sickly hue, and when the
seeming lascar had gone a few paces he called him back.
"Ahi, excellent khalasi! I think--I remember--I am almost sure I can
discover where the two bibis are concealed."
"Inshallah![#] That is indeed fortunate," said Desmond, turning back.
"There lies the best chance of averting the wrath of this much-wronged
man."
[#] "Please God!"--a common exclamation.
"Wait but a little till I have clad myself duly; I will then go to a
friend yonder and inquire."
He went into his hut and soon returned clothed in the garments that
befitted his position. Walking to a hut at the end of the block, he
made pretence, Desmond suspected, of inquiring. He was soon back.
"Allah is good!" he said. "The khitmatgar yonder tells me they were
taken to a house three coss[#] distant, belonging to the great faujdar
Manik Chand. It is rented from him by Digli Sahib, who is a great
friend of his excellency."
[#] The coss is nearly two miles.
"Well, khansaman, you will show me the way to the house."
But the khansaman appeared to have donned, with his clothes, a sense of
his own importance. The authoritative tone of the lascar offended his
dignity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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