The Rajah's Heir: A Novel in 3 volumesDespard, C. (Charlotte)
General
The Rajah's Heir: A Novel in 3 volumes
Despard, C. (Charlotte)
India -- Fiction
It was early in the forenoon. They had returned from their ride, and
were sitting out in the verandah, the ladies busy over fancy-work,
while Tom entertained them with a dramatic account of his travels. He
had come to his experiences at Delhi, and the singular encounter with
Mrs. Doncaster in the Chandni Chowk, when the General strode in, his
face purple with indignation.
'Read this!' he said, striking the news-sheet in his one hand with the
doubled-up fist of the other; and as Tom, at a sign from Lady Elton,
who was not much affected by these outbursts, took the sheet from
him, he muttered down in his throat, 'The fools! To make so much of a
trifle.'
The trifle was the well-known incident at Dum-Dum, near Calcutta. A
Lascar asked drink of a Sepoy. The Sepoy, being of high caste, refused
haughtily to allow his drinking-vessel to be defiled by the lips of a
low-caste man, whereupon the Lascar retorted that he would soon lose
his caste altogether, as the Government were making cartridges greased
with the fat of cows and swine.
It appeared from the article which Tom read aloud, that this story
was flying through the length and breadth of the land, and the writer
feared that, if something was not done promptly to reassure the
high-caste men in the army, serious consequences would ensue.
The General heard it through, and then burst into a torrent of wrath.
A nothing! Such a quarrel as might be seen going on any day in the
bazaars to be magnified in this way! It was absurd. It was worse than
absurd; it was criminal! If there was a panic, men like the writers
of the article in question would be responsible for it. For himself,
he knew the native army. They had their faults, but a finer body of
men never breathed. He was glad--he was proud to say--that any day he
would trust his life and honour in their hands.
Having delivered himself thus, the General calmed down, sent his bearer
for a cooling drink, swallowed it at a draught, and, looking round on
his wife and daughters, apologised for his heat, and begged them not to
be disturbed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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