Afghanistan -- Fiction; British -- Afghanistan -- Fiction; Kings and rulers -- Fiction; Political fiction
“Again and again, but the Residents find you out, and then you get
escorted to the Border before you’ve time to get your knife into
them. But about my friend here. I must give him a word o’ mouth to
tell him what’s come to me or else he won’t know where to go. I
would take it more than kind of you if you was to come out of Central
India in time to catch him at Marwar Junction, and say to him:—‘He
has gone South for the week.’ He’ll know what that means. He’s a
big man with a red beard, and a great swell he is. You’ll find him
sleeping like a gentleman with all his luggage round him in a
second-class compartment. But don’t you be afraid. Slip down the
window, and say:—‘He has gone South for the week,’ and he’ll
tumble. It’s only cutting your time of stay in those parts by two
days. I ask you as a stranger—going to the West,” he said with
emphasis.
“Where have you come from?” said I.
“From the East,” said he, “and I am hoping that you will give him
the message on the Square—for the sake of my Mother as well as your
own.”
Englishmen are not usually softened by appeals to the memory of their
mothers, but for certain reasons, which will be fully apparent, I saw
fit to agree.
“It’s more than a little matter,” said he, “and that’s why I
ask you to do it—and now I know that I can depend on you doing it. A
second-class carriage at Marwar Junction, and a red-haired man asleep
in it. You’ll be sure to remember. I get out at the next station, and
I must hold on there till he comes or sends me what I want.”
“I’ll give the message if I catch him,” I said, “and for the
sake of your Mother as well as mine I’ll give you a word of advice.
Don’t try to run the Central India States just now as the
correspondent of the Backwoodsman. There’s a real one knocking about
here, and it might lead to trouble.”
“Thank you,” said he simply, “and when will the swine be gone? I
can’t starve because he’s ruining my work. I wanted to get hold of
the Degumber Rajah down here about his father’s widow, and give him a
jump.”
“What did he do to his father’s widow, then?”
“Filled her up with red pepper and slippered her to death as she hung
from a beam. I found that out myself and I’m the only man that would
dare going into the State to get hush-money for it. They’ll try to
poison me, same as they did in Chortumna when I went on the loot there.
But you’ll give the man at Marwar Junction my message?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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