Rujub, the Juggler

“What difference does his wealth make?” Isobel said. “As far as I have seen, I do not think that rich Englishmen are more amusing than others, and if he had all the wealth of India, that would not improve Nana Sahib in my eyes. There are women, of course, who do think a great deal about money, and who will even marry men for it, but even women who would do that could not, I should think, care anything about the wealth of a Hindoo they cannot marry.”

“Not directly, my dear,” Mrs. Hunter said; “but people may be flattered with the notice and admiration of a person of importance and great wealth, even if he is a Hindoo.”

“Besides,” the Doctor put in, “the Rajah is considered to be a great connoisseur of English beauty, and has frequently expressed his deep regret that his religion prevented his marrying an English lady.”

“I should be very sorry for the English girl who would marry him, religion or not.”

“I think you are rather hard upon the Nana, Isobel,” the Major said. “He is a general favorite; he is open handed and liberal; very fond of entertaining; a great admirer of us as a nation. He is a wonderfully well read man for a Hindoo, can talk upon almost every subject, and is really a pleasant fellow.”

“I don’t like him; I don’t like him at all,” Isobel said positively.

“Ah, that is only because you thought he made you a little more conspicuous than you liked by his attentions to you, Isobel.”

“No, indeed, uncle; that was very silly and ridiculous, but I did not like the man himself, putting that aside altogether. It was like talking to a man with a mask on: it gave me a creepy feeling. It did not seem to me that one single word he said was sincere, but that he was acting; and over and over again as he was talking I said to myself, ‘What is this man really like? I know he is not the least bit in the world what he pretends to be. But what is the reality?’ I felt just the same as I should if I had one of those great snakes they bring to our veranda coiling round me. The creature might look quiet enough, but I should know that if it were to tighten it would crush me in a moment.”

The Major and Mrs. Hunter both laughed at her earnestness, but the Doctor said gravely, “Is that really how you felt about him when he was talking to you, Miss Hannay? I am sorry to hear you say that. I own that my opinion has been that of everyone here, that the Rajah is a good fellow and a firm friend of the Europeans, and my only doubt has arisen from the fact that it was unnatural he should like us when he has considerable grounds for grievance against us. We have always relied upon his influence, which is great among his countrymen, being thrown entirely into the scale on our side if any trouble should ever arise; but I own that what you say makes me doubt him. I would always take the opinion of a dog or a child about anyone in preference to my own.”

“You are not very complimentary, Doctor,” Isobel laughed.

“Well, my dear, a young girl who has not mixed much in the world and had her instincts blunted is in that respect very much like a child. She may be deceived, and constantly is deceived where her heart is concerned, and is liable to be taken in by any plausible scoundrel; but where her heart is not concerned her instincts are true. When I see children and dogs stick to a man I am convinced that he is all right, though I may not personally have taken to him. When I see a dog put his tail between his legs and decline to accept the advances of a man, and when I see children slip away from him as soon as they can, I distrust him at once, however pleasant a fellow he may be. As the Rajah, from all I heard, certainly laid himself out to be agreeable to you last night, and yet in spite of that you felt as you say you did about him, I am bound to say that without at once admitting that my impressions about him were wrong, I consider that there is good ground for thinking the matter over again.”

“What nonsense, Doctor,” the Major laughed. “Everyone here has known the Rajah for years. He is a most popular man, everyone likes him, among the ladies especially he is a great favorite. It is ridiculous to suggest that everyone should have been wrong about him, merely because Isobel takes a prejudice against him, and that as far as I can see is simply because his admiration for her was somewhat marked.”

Isobel gave a little shudder. “Don’t talk about admiration, uncle; that is not the word for it; I don’t know what it was like. They say snakes fascinate birds before they eat them by fixing their eyes upon them. I should say it was something of that sort of look.”

“Well, my dear, he is not going to eat you, that is certain,” the Major said; “and I can assure you that his approbation goes for a great deal here, and that after this you will go up several pegs in Cawnpore society.”

Isobel tossed her head. “Then I am sorry for Cawnpore society; it is a matter of entire indifference to me whether I go up or down in its opinion.”

A fortnight later the Nana gave another entertainment. A good deal to her uncle’s vexation, Isobel refused to go when the time came.

“But what am I to say, my dear?” he asked in some perplexity.

“You can say anything you like, uncle; you can say that I am feeling the heat and have got a bad headache, which is true; or you can say that I don’t care for gayety, which is also true. I shall be very much more comfortable and happy at home by myself.”

The Hunters had by this time returned to Deennugghur, and the Major drove over to Bithoor accompanied only by Dr. Wade. He was rather surprised when the Doctor said he would go, as it was very seldom that he went out to such entertainments.

“I am not going to amuse myself, Major; I want to have a good look at the Nana again; I am not comfortable since Isobel gave us her opinion of him. He is an important personage, and if there is any truth in these rumors about disaffection among the Sepoys his friendship may be of the greatest assistance to us.”

So the Doctor was with Major Hannay when the latter made his excuses for Isobel’s absence on the ground that she was not feeling very well.

The Nana expressed great regret at the news, and said that with the Major’s permission he would call in the morning to inquire after Miss Hannay’s health.

“He did not like it,” the Doctor said, when they had strolled away together. “He was very civil and polite, but I could see that he was savage. I fancy he got up this fete principally in her honor. It is not often he has two so close together.”

“Oh, that is nonsense, Doctor.”

“I don’t think so. He has done the same sort of thing several times before, when he has been specially taken by some fresh face from England.”

Others besides the Doctor remarked that the Rajah was not quite himself that evening. He was courteous and polite to his guests, but he was irritable with his own people, and something had evidently gone wrong with him.

The next day he called at the Major’s. The latter had not told Isobel of his intention, for he guessed that had he done so she would have gone across to Mrs. Doolan or one of her lady friends, and she was sitting in the veranda with him and young Wilson when the carriage drove up.

“I was so sorry to hear that you were unwell, Miss Hannay,” the Nana said courteously. “It was a great disappointment to me that you were unable to accompany your uncle last night.”

“I have been feeling the heat the last few days,” Isobel said quietly, “and, indeed, I do not care much about going out in such hot weather as this. I have not been accustomed to much society in England, and the crowd and the heat and the lights make my head ache.”

“You look the picture of health, Miss Hannay, but I know that it is trying for Englishwomen when they first come into our climate; it is always a great pleasure to me to receive English ladies at Bithoor. I hope upon the next occasion you will be able to come.”

“I am much obliged to your highness,” she said, “but it would be a truer kindness to let me stay quietly at home.”

“But that is selfish of you, Miss Hannay. You should think a little of the pleasure of others as well as your own.”

“I am not conceited enough to suppose that it could make any difference to other people’s pleasure whether I am at a party or not,” Isobel said. “I suppose you mean that as a compliment, Rajah, but I am not accustomed to compliments, and don’t like them.”

“You will have to learn to become accustomed to compliments, Miss Hannay,” the Rajah said, with a smile; and then turning to the Doctor, began to tell him of a tiger that had been doing a great deal of harm at a village some thirty miles away, and offered to send some elephants over to organize a hunt for him if he liked, an invitation that the Doctor promptly accepted.

The visit was but a short one. The Rajah soon took his leave.

“You are wrong altogether, Isobel,” the Doctor said. “I have returned to my conviction that the Rajah is a first rate fellow.”

“That is just because he offered you some shooting, Doctor,” Isobel said indignantly. “I thought better of you than to suppose that you could be bought over so easily as that.”

“She had you there, Doctor,” the Major laughed. “However, I am glad that you will no longer be backing her in her fancies.”

“Why did you accept his invitation for us to go over and lunch there, uncle?” Isobel asked, in a tone of annoyance.

“Because there was no reason in the world why we should refuse, my dear. He very often has luncheon parties, and after that he will show you over the place, and exhibit his jewels and curiosities. He said there would be other ladies there, and I have no doubt we shall have a very pleasant day.”

Even Isobel was obliged to confess that the visit was a pleasant one. The Nana had asked Mrs. Cromarty, her daughters, and most of the other ladies of the regiment, with their husbands. The lunch was a banquet, and after it was over the parties were taken round the place, paid a visit to the Zenana, inspected the gardens and stables, and were driven through the park. The Nana saw that Isobel objected to be particularly noticed, and had the tact to make his attentions so general that even she could find no fault with him.

On the drive back she admitted to her uncle that she had enjoyed her visit very much, and that the Rajah’s manners were those of a perfect gentleman.

“But mind, uncle,” she said, “I do not retract my opinion. What the Rajah really is I don’t pretend to know, but I am quite sure that the character of a smiling host is not his real one, and that for some reason or other he is simply playing a part.”

“I had no idea that you were such a prejudiced little woman,” the Major said, somewhat vexed; “but as it is no use arguing with you we had better drop the subject.”

For the next month Cawnpore suffered a little from the reaction after the gayety of the races, but there was no lack of topics of conversation, for the rumors of disaffection among the troops gained in strength, and although nothing positive was known, and everyone scoffed at the notion of any serious trouble, the subject was so important a one that little else was talked of whenever parties of the ladies got together.

CHAPTER VIII

“I have some bad news, Isobel. At least I suppose you will consider it bad news,” the Major said one morning, when he returned from the orderly room. “You heard me say that four companies were going to relieve those at Deennugghur. Well, I am going with them. It seems that the General is of opinion that in the present unsettled state of affairs there ought to be a field officer in command there, so I have to go. For myself I don’t mind, but you will find it dull in a small station like that, after the gayeties of Cawnpore.”

“I don’t mind a bit, uncle, in that respect. I don’t think I care much for gayeties, but of course the move will be a trouble. We have everything so nice here, it will be horrid having to leave it all. How long will it be for?”

“Six months, in the ordinary state of things, though of course something may occur to bring us in before that. Still, the change won’t be as much trouble as you fancy. When we get there you can stay for two or three days with the Hunters till we have got the things to rights. There is one thing that you will be pleased about. Wade is going with us, at any rate for the present; you are a favorite of his, you know, and I think that is the principal reason for his going. At any rate, when he heard I was in orders, he told the Colonel that, as there was no illness in the regiment, he thought, if he did not object, he would change places for a bit with M’Alaster, the assistant surgeon, who has been with the detachment at Deennugghur for the last year, so as to give him a turn of duty at Cawnpore, and do a little shikaring himself. There is more jungle and better shooting round Deennugghur than there is here, and you know the Doctor is an enthusiast that way. Of course, the Colonel agreed at once.”

“I am very glad of that, uncle; it won’t seem like going to a strange place if we have him with us, and the Hunters there, and I suppose three or four officers of the regiment. Who are going?”

“Both your boys,” the Major laughed, “and Doolan and Rintoul.”

“When do we go, uncle?”

“Next Monday. I shall get somebody to put us up from Friday, and that morning we will get everything dismantled here, and send them off by bullock carts with the servants to Deennugghur, so that they will be there by Monday morning. I will write to Hunter to pick us out the best of the empty bungalows, and see that our fellows get to work to clean the place up as soon as they arrive. We shall be two days on the march, and things will be pretty forward by the time we get there.”

“And where shall we sleep on the march?”

“In tents, my dear, and very comfortable you will find them. Rumzan will go with us, and you will find everything go on as smoothly as if you were here. Tent life in India is very pleasant. Next year, in the cool season, we will do an excursion somewhere, and I am sure you will find it delightful: they don’t know anything about the capabilities of tents at home.”

“Then do I quite understand, uncle, that all I have got to do is to make a round of calls to say goodby to everyone?”

“That is all. You will find a lot of my cards in one of those pigeon holes; you may as well drop one wherever you go. Shall I order a carriage from Framjee’s for today?”

“No, I think not, uncle; I will go round to our own bungalows first, and hear what Mrs. Doolan and the others think about it.”

At Mrs. Doolan’s Isobel found quite an assembly. Mrs. Rintoul had come in almost in tears, and the two young lieutenants had dropped in with Captain Doolan, while one or two other officers had come round to commiserate with Mrs. Doolan.

“Another victim,” the latter said, as Isobel entered.

“You look too cheerful, Miss Hannay. I find that we are expected to wear sad countenances at our approaching banishment.”

“Are we, Mrs. Doolan? It seems to me that it won’t make very much difference to us.”

“Not make any difference, Miss Hannay!” Captain Doolan said. “Why, Deennugghur is one of the dullest little stations on this side of India!”

“What do you mean by dull, Captain Doolan?”

“Why, there are only about six white residents there besides the troops. Of course, as four companies are going instead of one, it will make a difference; but there will be no gayety, no excitement, and really nothing to do.”

“As for the gayety, I am sure I shall not regret it, Captain Doolan; besides, our gayeties are pretty well over, except, of course, dinner parties, and it is getting very hot for them. We shall get off having to go out in the heat of the day to make calls, which seem to me terrible afflictions, and I think with a small party it ought to be very sociable and pleasant. As for excitement, I hear that there is much better shooting there than there is here. Mrs. Hunter was telling me that they have had some tigers that have been very troublesome round there, and you will all have an opportunity of showing your skill and bravery. I know that Mr. Richards and Mr. Wilson are burning to distinguish themselves.”

“It would be great fun to shoot a tiger,” Richards said. “When I came out to India I thought there was going to be lots of tiger shooting, and I bought a rifle on purpose, but I have never had a chance yet. Yes, we will certainly get up a tiger hunt, won’t we, Wilson? You will tell us how to set about it, won’t you, Doolan?”

“I don’t shoot,” Captain Doolan said; “and if I wanted to, I am not sure that my wife would give me leave.”

“Certainly I would not,” Mrs. Doolan said promptly. “Married men have no right to run into unnecessary danger.”

“Dr. Wade will be able to put you in the way, Mr. Richards,” Isobel said.

“Dr. Wade!” Mrs. Rintoul exclaimed. “You don’t mean to say, Miss Hannay, that he is going with us?”

“Yes, he is going for a time, Mrs. Rintoul. My uncle told me that he had applied to go with the detachment, and that the surgeon there would come back to the regiment while he is away.”

“I do call that hard,” Mrs. Rintoul said. “The only thing I was glad we were going for was that we should be under Mr. M’Alaster, who is very pleasant, and quite understands my case, while Dr. Wade does not seem to understand it at all, and is always so very brusque and unsympathetic.”

There was a general smile.

“Wade is worth a hundred of M’Alaster,” Captain Roberts said. “There is not a man out here I would rather trust myself to if I were ill. He is an awfully good fellow, too, all round, though he may be, as you say, a little brusque in manner.”

“I call him a downright bear,” Mrs. Rintoul said angrily. “Why, only last week he told me that if I would get up two hours earlier and go for a brisk walk just after sunrise, and give up eating meat at tiffin, and confine myself to two or three dishes at dinner, I should be perfectly well in the course of a month; just as if I was in the habit of overeating myself, when I have scarcely the appetite of a sparrow. I told Captain Rintoul afterwards that I must consult someone else, for that really I could not bear such rudeness.”

“I am afraid we are all against you, Mrs. Rintoul,” Mrs. Doolan said, with a little shake of her head at Isobel, who was, she saw, going to speak out strongly. “No one could possibly be kinder than he is when anyone is really ill. I mean seriously ill,” she added, as Mrs. Rintoul drew herself up indignantly. “I shall never forget how attentive he was to the children when they were down with fever just before he went to England. He missed his ship and lost a month of his leave because he would not go away till they were out of danger, and there are very few men who would have done that. I shall never forget his kindness. And now let us talk of something else. You will have to establish a little mess on your own account, Mr. Wilson, as both the Captains are married men, and the Major has also an incumbrance.”

“Yes, it will be horribly dull, Mrs. Doolan. Richards and I have quarters together here, and, of course, it will be the same there, and I am sure I don’t know what we shall find to talk about when we come to have to mess together. Of course, here, there are the messroom and the club, and so we get on very well, but to be together always will be awful.”

“You will really have to take to reading or something of that sort, Mr. Wilson,” Isobel laughed.

“I always do read the Field, Miss Hannay, but that won’t last for a whole week, you know; and there is no billiard table, and no racquet court, or anything else at Deennugghur, and one cannot always be riding about the country.”

“We shall all have to take pity on you as much as we can,” Mrs. Doolan said. “I must say that, like Miss Hannay, I shall not object to the change.”

“I think it is all very well for you, Mrs. Doolan; you have children.”

“Well, Mr. Richards, I will let you both, as a great treat, take them out for a walk sometimes of a morning instead of their going with the ayah. That will make a change for you.”

There was a general laugh, but Wilson said manfully, “Very well, Mrs. Doolan; I am very fond of youngsters, and I should like to take, anyhow, the two eldest out sometimes. I don’t think I should make much hand with the other two, but perhaps Richards would like to come in and amuse them while we are out; he is just the fellow for young ones.”

There was another laugh, in which Richards joined. “I could carry them about on my back, and pretend to be a horse,” he said; “but I don’t know that I could amuse them in any other way.”

“You would find that very hot work, Mr. Richards,” Mrs. Doolan said; “but I don’t think we shall require such a sacrifice of you. Well, I don’t think we shall find it so bad, after all, and I don’t suppose it will be for very long; I do not believe in all this talk about chupaties, and disaffection, and that sort of thing; I expect in three months we shall most of us be back again.”

Ten days later the detachment was settled down in Deennugghur. The troops were for the most part under canvas, for there was only accommodation for a single company at the station. The two subalterns occupied a large square tent, while the other three officers took possession of the only three bungalows that were vacant at the station, the Doctor having a tent to himself. The Major and Isobel had stayed for the first three days with the Hunters, at the end of which time the bungalow had been put in perfect order. It was far less commodious than that at Cawnpore, but Isobel was well satisfied with it when all their belongings had been arranged, and she soon declared that she greatly preferred Deennugghur to Cawnpore.

Those at the station heartily welcomed the accession to their numbers, and there was an entire absence of the stiffness and formality of a large cantonment like Cawnpore, and Isobel was free to run in as she chose to spend the morning chatting and working with the Hunters, or Mrs. Doolan, or with the other ladies, of whom there were three at the station.

A few days after their arrival news came in that the famous man eater, which had for a time ceased his ravages and moved off to a different part of the country, principally because the natives of the village near the jungle had ceased altogether to go out after nightfall, had returned, and had carried off herdsmen on two consecutive days.

The Doctor at once prepared for action, and agreed to allow Wilson and Richards to accompany him, and the next day the three rode off together to Narkeet, to which village the two herdsmen had belonged. Both had been killed near the same spot, and the natives had traced the return of the tiger to its lair in the jungle with its victims.

The Doctor soon found that the ordinary methods of destroying the tiger had been tried again and again without success. Cattle and goats had been tied up, and the native shikaris had taken their posts in trees close by, and had watched all night; but in vain. Spring traps and deadfalls had also been tried, but the tiger seemed absolutely indifferent to the attractions of their baits, and always on the lookout for snares. The attempts made at a dozen villages near the jungle had all been equally unsuccessful.

“It is evident,” the Doctor said, “that the brute cares for nothing but human victims. No doubt, if he were very hungry he would take a cow or a goat, but we might wait a very long time for that; so the only thing that I can see is to act as a bait myself.”

“How will you do that, Doctor?”

“I shall build a sort of cage near the point where the tiger has twice entered the jungle. I will take with me in the cage a woman or girl from the village. From time to time she shall cry out as if in pain, and as the tiger is evidently somewhere in this neighborhood it is likely enough he will come out to see about it.

“We must have the cage pretty strong, or I shall never get anyone to sit with me; besides, on a dark night, there is no calculating on killing to a certainty with the first shot, and it is just as well to be on the safe side. In daylight it would be a different matter altogether. I can rely upon my weapon when I can see, but on a dark night it is pretty well guesswork.”

The villagers were at once engaged to erect a stout cage eight feet square and four high, of beams driven into the ground six inches apart, and roofed in with strong bars. There was a considerable difficulty in getting anyone to consent to sit by the Doctor, but at last the widow of one of the men who had been killed agreed for the sum of twenty-five rupees to pass the night there, accompanied by her child four years old.