"Where is my father, Dilasah?" he cried, while he was still some distance away.

"Hai! hai! he is not here," replied the man, with a gloomy look.

"But where is he? He is not dead?"

"No, truly he is not dead, praise to Allah! Not one of us is killed, Ahmed; but my honoured uncle, with some few more, is a prisoner with those pigs of English, woe is me!"

"A prisoner! Then he failed?"

"We failed, all of us. We came to the place which we had appointed for our ambush, and there we waited three days, and on the third day we saw the accursed Feringhi and his men coming down the defile towards us.

Then we split up into three bands, as we had arranged, and my reverend uncle went with one band to one side, and I with my band to the other side, Rajab going with the third to the end of the defile to cut off the enemy when they should seek to escape."

"And what then?"

"Woe is me! From our post high up in the rocks we could see the chief with his band creeping on foot round on the other side of the defile, and there on a sudden men seemed to spring out of the earth; my honoured uncle had walked into a trap without doubt set for him by those accursed sons of dogs. In an instant he was surrounded, and what could he do with his few men against twice the number of Sikhs? There was no time even to fight, for the Sikhs were armed with the short guns that fire quickly, and the white-faced Feringhi called in a loud voice to the chief to yield or he would be a dead man. What could he do? And so he was made prisoner with all his band."

"And you--did you nothing to help him?"

"Nay, how could I tell that Sikhs were not coming on my side also to encompa.s.s me?"

"You ran away?"

"What could I do? If we had fired a shot we should have betrayed ourselves to the enemy, and we were not strong enough to fight them when the chief and his party were gone. And there was danger that Rajab, who was at the end of the defile behind us and had not seen what had befallen the chief, might fire and so be discovered also; and it seemed best to join him, so that our company should be stronger in case the enemy attacked us."

A youth of Pathan blood would without doubt have burst forth into shrill cursing and reviling; there would have been a fierce war of words, and by and by perhaps a knife-thrust. But Ahmed never displayed anger in the Pathan way; in this he was often a puzzle to the people of s.h.a.gpur. He said not a word now in answer to Dilasah. The lines of his face had hardened; his lips were pressed tight together; a strange look had come into his grey eyes. He rode at a quick foot-pace beside Dilasah back to the village, listening to the man's repet.i.tion of the story of the capture. He listened to it again in the village, where Dilasah told it in the street, and the people made great lamentation with cries and groans. And then, when the hors.e.m.e.n had dismounted and gone to their homes, he accompanied Ahsan to his little hut, and asked the old man what he thought of the things that had happened.

"Dilasah is a coward--that is sure," said Ahsan. "Did we not know it? He fled away as a lark flies at the first throw. A man fights; a dog turns tail. 'Tis an evil fate has befallen the master, and this village of s.h.a.gpur also."

"Is Dilasah's story true, think you?" asked Ahmed.

"Without doubt it is true. A lie has no legs. Did not all the men hear what he said? He would not say what is false in the hearing of them all, for they would put him to shame."

"And what will become of my father?"

"Hai! that Allah knows, Ahmed-ji. Jan Larrens is a stern man, they say, and swift to punish. The Feringhis have many ways of punishing.

Sometimes they slay with a rope; sometimes they make a man pay much money; sometimes they hold him prisoner. Who can tell what they will do with the master!"

"And we cannot help him, can we, Ahsan?"

"Ahuh! 'tis impossible. Peshawar is a strong city: once and twice I have been there in my youth--before the Feringhis came. Jan Larrens is the governor now; he has many soldiers, both Feringhis and true believers who take their pay, like Sherdil, son of a.s.sad. It would be like a man beating his head against the rocks to go there and try to release the master by force. And to buy his freedom is alike impossible. In the old days we might have sent presents to the jailer, or to the governor of the prison, or to the governor of the city, and if the presents were rich enough the gates of the prison would open. But that is all changed since the servants of Jan k.u.mpani came. Strange are the ways of the Feringhis! Their eyes do not shut when one offers to put rupees in their palms; nay, I heard of a young Feringhi at Lah.o.r.e, who, when Kunwar Khan spoke of giving him a great sum if he would buy Kunwar's mildewed grain for the soldiers--this young Feringhi doubled his fist and smote Kunwar in the face, and he fell backward, showing the soles of his feet. Truly the Feringhis are a strange folk."

"Well then, Ahsan, there is but one thing to do. I shall be chief now, and I will get more and more men about me until we are strong enough to make an attack on the prison and bring my father out. He has broken into their places with a few men and taken their horses; why should not I with a great company break into their prison and bring forth a man?"

Ahsan shook his head.

"You can climb the mulberry-tree, but not the th.o.r.n.y acacia," he said; "that is foolish talk. And you forget Dilasah."

"What of Dilasah?"

"Hai! He will make himself chief now, Ahmed-ji; and listen, let me speak in your ear. Did I not distrust Dilasah? Did I not doubt him when he spoke of the talk of the bazar?"

"What do you mean? Why do you speak in whispers? Tell me, Ahsan."

"Hush! Traitors have long ears." Then, bending forward until his lips almost touched the ears of Ahmed, he said: "Do we know that Dilasah did not make ready this trap for the master?"

Ahmed started. This suspicion had not occurred to him. But remembering Dilasah's long a.s.sociation with Minghal, the man of wiles, and his sudden change of att.i.tude towards his uncle, he saw that Ahsan's suggestion might be well founded. Who stood to gain so much from Rahmut Khan's disappearance as Dilasah? He coveted the chiefship; he had been consumed with anger when Rahmut adopted Ahmed as his heir; nothing was more likely than that he should seize such an opportunity of getting rid of the old chief, and so open the way to his ambition.

"Then it will be a fight between Dilasah and me," said the boy, setting his teeth.

"Hai! That is again foolishness," replied the old man. "What can you do, Ahmed-ji? Dilasah is a grown man, cunning as a leopard. He will speak soft words to the people, and when he tells them 'tis a choice between him and you, and you a Feringhi, think you they will respect the desires of the master when he is far away? Many love you, some are indifferent, some are envious; but when Dilasah has said his say, and made his promises, and got the mullah on his side--as he will do with presents of sheep and tobacco--think you that even those who love you will offend Allah and risk the pains of Gehenna for you? There is talk even now that the Feringhis wish to make us all Christians. Dilasah and the mullah will persuade the folk that you, if you become their chief, will turn them from the true belief. I am an old man, Ahmed-ji, but though I have a white beard and toothless gums I can yet see a cloud in the sky."

Ahmed frowned. He had not foreseen these difficulties. He repeated the Koran and said the prayers the mullah had taught him; in nothing did he fall short of the observances required of good Mohammedans. In the early days of his life in s.h.a.gpur, when he went tearfully to bed, he had repeated the little prayers learnt at his mother's knee; but in the long years since then, during which he had heard no word of English spoken around him, these English prayers had slipped from him. It was absurd to suppose that when he became chief he would try to turn the people to a religion of which he knew nothing. He could not but think that Ahsan's fears were groundless, and when next day Dilasah met him with a frank smile, and, after a word of commiseration of the unhappy fate of Rahmut Khan, addressed him with apparent cordiality as the new chief, he ran to tell Ahsan that he was quite mistaken.

There was sorrow in the village at the loss of Rahmut Khan. The people were proud of him, and with shrill cries called down maledictions on the Feringhis. But no one spoke of attempting anything on his behalf; Ahsan's views on that matter were shared by them all. Dilasah led the way in professions of loyalty to Ahmed, much to the wonderment of the old gate-keeper. Ahsan watched him narrowly. He did not believe in his sincerity, and yet could see no object in his feigning a loyalty he did not feel. And it was not until some days had pa.s.sed that a light flashed upon him. Though Dilasah agreed with the rest of the men that it was impossible to rescue the old chief, he said that it was surely desirable that an attempt should be made to discover his fate. And at that, a.s.sad, the father of Sherdil, offered to make the journey to Peshawar to inquire.

"Who better than I?" he said. "Sherdil, my son, is a great man among the Feringhis; it is a good thing that I, his father, should visit him and see with my own eyes the greatness that has come to him. Without doubt he will be in Peshawar or some place near at hand; it will be easy for me to find him, and he will a.s.suredly know what has become of our master. I will go to Peshawar, and bring back news of the chief, and also, I doubt not, some manifest tokens of the estimation in which my son is held."

This offer he made to Ahmed in the presence of Dilasah, and the latter strongly urged its acceptance. Accordingly, two days after the return of the luckless expedition, a.s.sad set off disguised as a mendicant, to escape all danger of being snapped up by a hostile tribe if he went otherwise. And shrewd old Ahsan now saw through the conduct of Dilasah.

The man would not feel safe until he knew for certain that Rahmut Khan was permanently out of the way. If there was the least chance of the chief's return--whether by escape, or by payment of a fine, for Dilasah was very hazy as to what his punishment would be--it behooved him to go carefully. s.h.a.gpur would never side with him against its rightful chief; and if Rahmut should come back and find that he had tried to oust Ahmed, he knew that he could expect no mercy from his kinsman. He was thus biding his time, thought Ahsan, until Rahmut's fate was known with certainty, and then he would show his hand.

"You must be ready for flight when a.s.sad comes back," said the gate-keeper to Ahmed.

"Why should I flee?" asked the boy.

"Because if you do not it will befall you as it befell Sundar Khan. He had a rival in the succession to his father, even as you have, and Gulam, the rival, offered to put the matter before a council of the clansmen and abide by their choice. The choice fell upon Sundar Khan, whereupon Gulam made a great feast to celebrate the happy end of the dispute, to which came Sundar Khan and many of his friends. And when the pipe of peace was pa.s.sing round after the feast, Gulam slipped away secretly to the door and lighted a match, and even as he himself ran for his life, Sundar Khan and all his friends were blown up into the air. So Gulam made himself chief, and so also will Dilasah if he learns that Rahmut Khan is put out of the way."

This advice was distasteful to Ahmed, and for some days he refused to consider it. Dilasah was still very pleasant; made no a.s.sumption of authority; said once, with a mournful shake of the head, that Ahmed would soon be chief in reality, for Rahmut, being old, could not long survive imprisonment. But a day or two after he said something which recalled the story Ahsan had told, and Ahmed for the first time began to think that his life might indeed be in danger.

"'Tis to be feared we shall never see Rahmut Khan again, Ahmed-ji," said Dilasah, "and when a.s.sad returns with the news of what has befallen him, and we have no longer hope, we must put away our sorrow and make a feast to hail thee as chief. Dost thou approve, Ahmed-ji?"

Ahmed looked at the fat, smiling face with the cunning little eyes, and in the light of what Ahsan had said saw villainy there.

"It will be well, Dilasah," he said. "We will have a feast, and Rahmut's women and my sisters shall make us sweetmeats with their own hands. That will be a great day, Dilasah."

And Dilasah smiled and rubbed his hands, and Ahmed went off to tell Ahsan. There was no longer any doubt that Rahmut's nephew meditated mischief, but Ahmed was still disinclined to take flight. He was popular with the younger men, and suggested to Ahsan that they might form a party in opposition to Dilasah and forestall him.

"Hai!" said Ahsan. "Crows home in the nests of hawks. It is vain, Ahmed-ji. I have seen Dilasah many times in converse with the mullah; he is cunning as a fox. Thou wilt be safe only by flight. My counsel to thee is to have thy good horse Ruksh ready, and when a.s.sad returns with the bad news--for my heart tells me it will be bad--ride out that very night."

"And whither should I ride, Ahsan? This is my home. I have nowhere to go."

"Make thyself known to the Feringhis, Ahmed-ji. Maybe thou hast kinsmen among them."

"'Tis folly, Ahsan. Who would believe me? I cannot speak the Feringhi speech, save one or two words that come back to me sometimes. I know nothing of the Feringhis' ways; I do not know the name of my true father. Dost thou remember it, old friend?"

"Nay, I have often sought for it in my mind, but it is gone. Rahmut knows it, and Minghal also, but it is clean gone from me."

"Then how could I prove to the Feringhis that I am one of them? No, I like it not; and furthermore, Rahmut lies in prison, and I begin to believe that it is even as thou sayest--that Dilasah betrayed him. Is it not my duty by some means to bring Rahmut back and deal with Dilasah as he deserves?"

"Hai! foolish talk again. Think of what I say, Ahmed-ji; the time is not long; a.s.sad will soon be back, and then if thou art not gone, Dilasah will seek thy life and take it."