Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction; Science fiction; War stories
“I have news for you, comrade! The aristocratic Indian with whom I just
spoke was the Maharajah of Sabathu who is on the look-out for his guest
and friend, the Maharajah of Chanidigot, who is engaged on a hunting
expedition.”
“The Maharajah of Chanidigot?” Heideck exclaimed with sparkling eyes.
“The rogue is then really in our immediate neighbourhood?”
“The hunting-camp that the two Princes have formed lies directly in our
line of march, and the Maharajah has invited me to camp this night there
with my men. I have really more than half a mind to accept his kind
invitation.”
“And did you not inquire about Mrs. Irwin, Prince?”
The Colonel’s face assumed at Heideck’s question a strangely serious,
almost repellent expression.
“No.”
“But it is more than probable that she is in his camp.”
“Possibly, although up to now every proof of that is wanting.”
“But you will institute inquiries for her, will you not? You will compel
the Maharajah to give us news of her whereabouts?”
“I can, at most, politely ask him for information. But I cannot promise
you even that with certainty.”
Heideck was extremely surprised. He could not explain in any way the
change in the Prince’s demeanour. And he would have been inclined
to take his strange answers for a not too delicate jest, had not
the frigid, impenetrable expression of his face at once excluded any
suggestion of the sort.
“But I don’t understand, Prince,” he said, surprised. “It was only a few
days ago that you were kind enough to promise me your active support in
this matter.”
“I am to my regret compelled to cancel that promise; for I have received
strict instructions from His Excellency to avoid everything that can
lead to friction with the native Princes, and that my superiors laid
great stress upon a good understanding with the Maharajah of Chanidigot
was not known to me at the time of our conversation. He was the first
who openly declared for Russia and whose troops have come over to our
side. The happy issue of the Battle of Lahore is perhaps in no small
degree due to him. You understand, Captain, that it would make the worst
possible impression were we to come into conflict with a man so needful
to us for such a trifling cause.”
“Trifling cause?” Heideck asked earnestly, his eyes sparkling with
excitement.
“Well, yes, what appears to you of such great importance is, when
regarded from a high political point of view, very trifling and
insignificant. You cannot possibly expect that the political interests
of a world empire should be sacrificed for the interests of a single
lady, who, moreover, by nationality belongs to our enemies.”
“Shall she then be handed over helpless to the bestiality of this
dissolute scoundrel?”
Prince Tchajawadse shrugged his shoulders, while at the same time he
cast a strange side-glance at Heideck, who was riding beside him, which
seemed to say--
“How dense you are, my dear fellow! And how slow of understanding!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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