British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
“No; the Eye-of-the-Begum, with a very secret message from the Amir.
He wants you to join with him to get rid of the Commissioner.”
“He does, does he? I thought Burgrave’s last reprimand would wake him
up a bit. He made it pretty clear that Bahram Khan was to be
recognised as heir, and admitted to all the privileges of the post.
It’s funny, isn’t it, that our respected superior doesn’t seem to see
what a creepy sort of thing it is to welcome into your bosom a snake
that’s tried to bite you already? Oh, Georgie, it is calculated to
make a man swear when he sees a fellow like Burgrave, who has far less
knowledge of district work than young Anstruther, and that so long ago
that he’s forgotten all about it, sent to upset a province where he
doesn’t even know the languages, simply because he can write nice
reports and is a favourite at Simla. I can’t make pretty speeches to
exalted personages, but I can keep this frontier quiet, and they won’t
let me do it.”
“I know; it’s perfectly shameful. But, Dick, I have something else to
tell you that will make you laugh, though you won’t like it. Bahram
Khan is anxious to marry Mab.”
Dick bounced out of his chair. “The dirty hound! It’s like his
impudence to dare to dream of such a thing. He had better look out for
the next time he comes across me. Why hadn’t he the pluck to bring his
precious message himself?”
“I think his mother fancied he would be safer at a distance. He is
good enough to offer his friendship as a bait.”
“Thanks, I’d rather be without it. The whole thing is a plot,
Georgie--a palpable plot to try and get me into trouble with Burgrave.
There was no hint of this atrocious idea when Mab was at Dera Gul the
other day, or we should have heard of it.” Georgia felt uncomfortable,
but her promise to Mabel kept her silent. “It’s a clumsy trick devised
on the spur of the moment. If I pretended to nibble at it, the next
thing would be that Burgrave would be informed I was intriguing
against him, and had offered my sister to Bahram Khan to attract him
to my side. We are on the down-grade, Georgie. I didn’t know they had
got so far as inventing false accusations against me yet. Bah! it
makes a man sick of the whole thing.”
“I fancy Bahram Khan has had the idea in his mind longer than you
imagine,” Georgia ventured to say.
“Oh, you’re a match-maker, as I’ve told you before. Please keep your
planning to pleasanter subjects in future. But I say, it’s rather fine
that the Commissioner should have Bahram Khan for a rival! I should
really like to tell him so.”
“Then you still think Mr Burgrave is in love with Mab?”
“If he isn’t, why does he stick on here so long without bringing off
his great splash? He says it’s because of the Christmas holidays, but
a trifle like that wouldn’t keep him quiet generally. My idea is that
he means to make sure of her before breaking with me.”
“But she would have nothing to do with him in any case if he broke
with you.”
“You think so? Well, we shall see.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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