The Great White Hand; Or, the Tiger of Cawnpore: A story of the Indian MutinyMuddock, J. E. (Joyce Emmerson)
History
The Great White Hand; Or, the Tiger of Cawnpore: A story of the Indian Mutiny
Muddock, J. E. (Joyce Emmerson)
Anglo-Indian fiction; India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction; Kanpur (India) -- Fiction
“You English look well after your money stores, Sir Hugh,” jocularly
remarked Azimoolah, who had been examining a large portfolio of
water-colour drawings of English “beauty spots.” And as he stepped
forward a few paces, he rubbed his hands, and his face was contorted
with a sardonic smile. I say contorted, for it was a singular
characteristic of this man that he could not laugh; the hearty
cachinnation of honest men became in this one a mere contortion of
the facial muscles; and his eyes, cold and snake-like, glittered with
a deadly light. “I noted, as the result of close observation when
in England,” he continued, “that this same money was a very much
worshipped god; and those who had it were flattered and fawned upon,
and those who had it not were the despised and rejected.”
“But is that not a principle unfortunately common to every people?” Sir
Hugh remarked.
“Possibly; but I think nowhere is it so conspicuous as in England.
And, after all, I think that there is a good deal of emptiness in the
boasted freedom of the English; for the poor are slaves in all but
name, and the task-masters of Southern America are not more grinding
or exacting than are your English lords and capitalists. The dogs and
horses of your wealthy squires are housed and fed infinitely better
than are your poor.”
“I think you are prejudiced against my nation,” said the General.
“Possibly so,” was the pointed answer, “and, perhaps, not without
cause; for I found that the English are much given to preaching what
they never think of practising; and the boasted liberality of John
Bull is a pleasant fiction, like many more of the virtues of that much
vaunted personage.”
“But to return to the subject of our conversation,” joined in the Nana,
as if fearing that Azimoolah’s feelings would betray him into some
indiscretion; and so he was anxious to put an end to the discussion.
“You wish me to place a guard over your arsenal and treasury?”
“That is my desire,” said Wheeler.
“Good; orders shall at once be given for two hundred of my retainers to
march to the Newab-gung. That point being settled satisfactorily, what
is your next request, General?”
“That you will hold your troops in instant readiness to join my little
body of men, and suppress the insurrection, should it unfortunately
break out.”
“That also shall be complied with,” smiled the Nana. “Anything further
to request?”
“I think not; but I cannot allow the opportunity to pass without
thanking your Highness for your ready acquiescence to my wishes, and in
the name of my country I further tender you thanks for your devotion
and loyalty.”
The Nana smiled again and bowed, and Azimoolah adjusted his gold
eye-glasses, and pretended to be busy in his examination of the
portfolio; but into his face came back the expression of ferocious joy,
and it was with difficulty he suppressed an audible chuckle.
The business upon which he had come being ended, the General took his
departure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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