Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D'Arc of India Read online

  Chapter XIV

  _AT THE TOMB OF FIROZ KHAN_

  The city of the Rani slept. The bazaars and side streets were deserted.But for an occasional light gleaming fitfully through a half openedcasement, and the dark forms of sentinels pacing back and forth innoiseless tread upon the walls, Jhansi might have been a city of thedead. In countless, glittering myriads, the heavenly bodies strodemajestically in their eternal courses above the silent night. By themercy of the supreme Parem-eswara, the labor of the day completedwith the departing sun, the people had lain down to rest; their joys,sorrows, hopes, for a space, gathered into oblivion. Thus Jhansi slept.

  Three figures habited in male attire approached the eastern gate, andgave a password. The gate was slowly opened, and the three went forth.Behind them, the massive portals swung back into place upon gratinghinges.

  Direct from the lofty, frowning bastion, a road led toward the summerpalace on the borders of the lake. Here and there clumps of tamarindand acacia rose indistinctly on either side of the way. Rapidly, yetwith caution to avoid intercepting the nocturnal adventure of somepoisonous reptile, the three directed their steps along the road.Their feet impressed the thick coating of dust noiselessly. Not a wordwas exchanged, and no sound broke upon their ears save the occasionalyelping of a startled cur or the dismal cry of a jackal summoning acompanion to a scent of prey. Once, only, a solitary figure met them ata little distance from the city. If bent upon evil, he concealed hispurpose by a greeting of peace.

  "The blessing of God be with you," he cried.

  "And with you, O Stranger, peace," the foremost of the three answeredin a woman's voice, despite the conflicting evidence of her dress.

  Presently they came to a parting of the road. A narrow path led amid agrowth of trees to the brink of the lake. Massively the white squarewalls of the tomb of Firoz Khan, with its central dome became visiblethrough the branches. The party halted.

  "What now, my Lord"? the owner of the voice that had returned thewayfarer's salutation asked.

  "Noble Rani," that of Ahmad Khan replied, "yonder is our destination.Behind the wall thou canst just discern to the right, lie, wellconcealed, a hundred of thy Valaiti bodyguard; but I know not if theconspirators are assembled."

  At the moment a white cloth was waved thrice above the wall. Ahmadevidently took it for a signal. He spoke in a low tone.

  "Whoever the villains may be, they are now gathered together. Here Iwill leave thee to pass in hiding to the guard, while if thou art stilldetermined upon the enterprise, thou hadst better advance boldly tothe entrance. For the rest, I make no doubt thine own judgment anddiscretion, will serve thee better than any advice of mine."

  "Well said, my faithful Ahmad," the Rani answered. "Thou art certain tohear my call if need be from yonder hiding place"?

  "Were it softer than the note of the bulbul, fair Lady, be assured, itwould reach me even at the gate of Paradise."

  Thus while Ahmad stealthily disappeared among the trees, the Ranimotioned her waiting woman to follow, and proceeded fearlessly towardthe entrance of the tomb.

  That those within had taken measures to prevent a surprise wasdemonstrated by a challenge the moment that the Rani emerged into theopen space about the building.

  "Stand! who comes"? a voice demanded.

  The Rani replied promptly in firm accents. "Two followers of the noblePrasad Singh."

  A short period of consultation among the conspirators apparentlyensued. Without, the Rani awaited the answer with deep emotion. Wouldthe report prove true or false, that he whom she loved was a traitor aswell as a libertine?

  Presently the response came.

  "It is well, advance."

  "Alas! it is ill," her heart murmured. "Ah God! the ingratitude, thecruelty of it."

  She advanced to the open door and entered the main chamber of the tomb.A shaded lamp dimly illuminated the interior. Her glance swept quicklyfrom the five or six armed men gathered in a group, to a stalwart formshe intuitively recognized as that of Prasad Singh, in spite of thedisguise he had assumed. He was pacing to and fro a little apart fromhis companions, as if impatient of some detail of his plan yet to becompleted.

  He turned quickly on her entrance and spoke in a voice of stern rebuke.

  "Thou art late," he exclaimed. "Thou hast kept us waiting long afterthe appointed hour."

  "Pardon, my Lord," replied the Rani, halting in the dark shadow of apillar. "Our steps were misdirected."

  "A curse upon the muddled brain of that astrologer," he muttered. "Nowhearken, while I tell thee briefly, what I have impressed upon thycomrades at some length. We go now to the city as belated travelers,with an admission at the gate that hath already been assured. Thouwilt then follow my steps quickly and silently to the Rani's palace.As the others have their allotted duty, thou wilt seek the garden gateand hold it securely so that no one passes in or forth. If force bethreatened thou wilt in like manner threaten force, aye, and use it ifso need be. Thou hast arms"? he asked.

  "Aye, noble captain," she replied. "Arms have we. But if the Rani dothherself come forth. What then, great sir"? she questioned in return.

  "Thou wilt detain her above all others, though careful to do her nopersonal harm," he enjoined emphatically.

  "But should she command us to let her pass, my Lord"? she pressedstill further, in a quiet, assumed voice.

  "Thou wilt obey the command of him who payeth thee for thy service,thou idle questioner," he returned. "Thy order is to hold her securelyuntil my pleasure concerning her hath been learned."

  There followed a momentary pause, then her voice rose solemnly to thevaulted roof.

  "My Lord Raja, Prasad Singh, thou hast no need to go to Jhansi for theRani. Behold she is now before thee."

  She moved from the shadow and stood confronting him, an expression ofoffended dignity visible upon her face.

  He uttered an exclamation of surprise mingled with dismay. Impulsivelyhe strode forward.

  "Stand where thou art," she commanded. "Move not a pace, a man of you,for at the raising of my voice a hundred troopers, lying at hand, willhasten to my side."

  With a muttered oath Prasad halted, while the Rani turned to the doorand summoned Ahmad.

  Almost upon the instant the Mohammedan noble and a score of the Rani'sbodyguard appeared before the entrance.

  "Alas, Ahmad," she said. "Our hope is dashed in pieces as a pitcherhurled upon a rock. Bipin, poor fellow, hath earned my displeasure aswell as my gratitude for the truth that he has told. I would now, thatI could recompense him for being a liar concerning this night's work.Take these duped fools into safe keeping, and then await my order. Iwill speak with Prasad first."

  She motioned the shrinking forms inside the chamber to pass without,and remained alone with Prasad.

  For several minutes there reigned an unbroken silence, as the Rani andher guilty lover stood face to face. The moon had risen over the lakeand sent its pale light through a crevice in the dome of the ruinedtomb. It marked by deep shadows the recesses, and filled the chamberwith an atmosphere in sympathy with the chill that seized upon theheart of the woman.

  She spoke at last in a measured tone.

  "How, now, my Lord Prasad Singh. A short while since you said the Raniwas to be held until she heard your pleasure. Behold, she now patientlyawaiteth it. What wilt thou do with her"?

  Prasad hesitated a moment, then cast himself at her feet.

  "Taunt me not, noble one," he petitioned. "I do not seek thy pardon;but I do ask thee to hear me speak."

  "Aye, will I," came the response coldly. "Is it not to hear what thoucanst say for such surprising conduct that I am now waiting on thywords."

  "As God sees my heart, my sole excuse is my all consuming love forthee."

  "Thy love for me," she echoed. "Surely it is a most unusual way ofshowing it, good Prasad. Thou gatherest here a company of rascals toassault my palace, and order them to heed not my command, to hold mea prisoner until I shall learn thy pleasure. Thy lov
e for me. Oh"! shecried with a note of scorn in her voice. "Thou must indeed cherish aconstant love for me."

  "Ah, fair one, be not so ungracious," he besought her. "Surely thouhast tried me more than I was able to endure."

  "I tried thee," she repeated bitterly. "Aye, I did try thee, and thouhast proved to be most woefully amiss. What art thou, a drinker ofspirits, a libertine, and Ah God! a traitor to thy Queen."

  Stung by her accusations he sprang passionately to his feet.

  "It is not true," he retorted hotly. "Upon all things sacred do I swearto it."

  "Aye, thou art in a fitting situation for thy oath to carry weight,"she answered; "but, believe me I care not for thy escapades with_natch_ girls, or thy drunken orgies. Of such I do not look for anaccount. Thy reason for this company is what I seek."

  "Some accursed villain hath betrayed me," he muttered fiercely. "Thatdog of an astrologer, or can it be my good Moslem friend, the nobleAhmad Khan"?

  "Nay," she replied sorrowfully. "It is thine own false heart, O Prasad,that hath betrayed thee. I know of no astrologer, and as for AhmadKhan, thou art only adding an injustice to thy other wickedness byslandering the fidelity of a friend. Even when this villainy of thinewas made plain to me, he it was who stood firm as a champion of thymiserable faith. I doubt not that now his heart is sore with grief."

  "Then fair Lady," he exclaimed. "Since the Gods have willed it, thatI shall appear in thine eyes as the vilest of creatures, life hath nomore object. Take it, O Rani. I yield it to thee as readily here, as Iwould have done for thee amid the press of battle."

  He drew a dagger from his girdle and offered the handle to the Rani. Hebowed his head submissively.

  She gazed upon him with sorrowful eyes. She took the dagger from himand for a moment grasped it tightly. Would she plunge it to his heart?He waited resignedly. It would be an act of mercy was his only thought.

  Then she spoke in slow accents, first sternly, but toward the closewith a quaver in her voice.

  "As the Rani, I could, O Prasad, kill thee; but as Lachmi Baithou--thou art forgiven. Oh! why hast thou thus treated me"?

  The dagger flashed with a clatter to the pavement; her hand droppedlistlessly to her side.

  With a sudden burst of joy in his heart and arms outstretched, hestepped forward, prompted by an impulse of the moment.

  She waved him back imperiously.

  "Nay, I command, do thou not touch me. If thou art forgiven by LachmiBai, thou art not pardoned by the Jhansi Rani. Thy life she hathreturned to thee that thou mayest redeem thine honor by honorabledeeds, but thou canst not remain in Jhansi."

  He drew back with dejection stamped upon his face.

  She turned to the door and summoned Ahmad Khan.

  The Mohammedan responded with reluctant steps. He paused on beholdingPrasad, sighed deeply, and directed his eyes toward the ground.

  "Ahmad," she commanded. "It is my wish that thou dost now conduct thenoble Prasad Singh safely to the boundary of the state. He doth leaveme with a message to the Rao Sahib."

  She added this from the desire to screen the Hindu noble's publicdownfall.

  "Noble Lady," petitioned Ahmad, ignoring her intention. "Thou placeston my shoulders too heavy a burden. Prasad Singh hath grown to be myfriend. I cannot regard or hold one as a prisoner who hath so recentlybeen my honored guest. I beg thou wilt depute this unhappy duty toanother, such as thy faithful servant, the Dost Ali Khan, now without."

  "By Heaven"! cried Prasad angrily, a wave of jealousy sweeping allother feeling to the winds. "To such indignity I will not submit."

  He stooped and seizing the dagger that had remained upon the floor,stood at bay defiantly.

  For a moment surprise was depicted on the Rani's face, then she soughthis reason.

  "Why dost thou so object to the escort of Dost Ali"? she askedinnocently.

  "Thou askest me why I should object to this Dost Ali"? he retorted."No," he laughed mockingly. "In pleasant company forsooth with thy----"

  Something in the Rani's expression appealed direct to his sense ofhonor, checking him in the utterance of the final word. Fortunately itdied upon his lips unspoken.

  As if she had penetrated his meaning the Rani started, her countenancemenacing with sudden passion. She clutched Ahmad so tightly by thewrist that he was forced to set his teeth to withhold an oath of pain.

  The situation was also critical for him. If the Rani were to accept theimplied challenge of her virtue, the result might be a disclosure ofhis deep intrigue.

  The danger, for Ahmad, passed as she replied with an effort ofcontrolled emotion.

  "Truly thou art mad, O Prasad. Thy folly and passion doth almostaccomplish its inevitable end. Fortunate is it, those who wish theewell have pity for thee. To reason with thee would only be an act,equally insane."

  She walked toward him fearlessly and laid her hand upon the dagger hilt.

  "Come," she enjoined. "Thou hast surrendered. Thou shalt obey my willwithin my state, even if it be my pleasure that Dost Ali doth accompanythee to the boundary."

  "A curse upon thy pleasure," retorted Prasad sullenly, relinquishingthe dagger to her hand. "The sooner that my feet are free from thisunlucky soil, perchance the more quickly will I gain some peace ofmind. I care not how I leave it, so I ride forth speedily."

  "Ah! in truth, good Prasad, how well dost thou display thy penitence,"she answered reproachfully. "This dagger will I hold as a pledge forthy better nature yet to claim. Farewell, my Lord. I pray a kindlierfortune may attend our next meeting."

  She moved toward the door, and pausing, turned upon him a look of deepregret.

  Prasad's countenance betrayed no change of feeling.

  The Rani passed out into the moonlight, where her troopers had groupedthemselves about the tomb. Ahmad followed. He begged to know her wishconcerning the other prisoners.

  "Carry them also to the boundary," she ordered, "and let them go towhatever place God wills. I pray I may never set eyes on one of themagain."

  "Doth the Rani now wish to return to Jhansi"? he asked, "or will sheaccept the poor hospitality of Ahmad Khan. His house is within a littledistance."

  "Not now, good Ahmad," she replied. "I would be for a short time alone.Remain here with those unneeded for the escort, while I go yonder tothe shrine. Presently I will return."

  She acknowledged the salute of the officers as they gazed with wonderon her masculine attire, and moved slowly amid the trees to the templeof the great god of Hindustan.

  "Thanks be to Allah," Ahmad murmured devoutly. "This night is mine."

  Black was the heart of the Mohammedan. The night was his--a night ofhell riot loosened in his soul. Passion and murder struggled for thefirst place in his intention. Blood was already on his hands. Like atiger his thirst for more was now unquenchable.

  Mohurran Goshi called to his door earlier in the evening had receivedhis unreckoned due. Ahmad's dagger had forever settled the accountbetween them. The wise discerner of other's good and evil fortune, hadfailed to calculate his own swiftly approaching end.

  In like manner a secret order to Dost Ali was to terminate theconspirators' existence. Ahmad quickly planned that in some darkravine, before the boundary was reached, the deed might be easilyaccomplished. Prasad to be dispatched in revenge, the others as a saferfetter than money upon their silence. He quickly selected the escort,and then drew Dost Ali to one side.

  "It is the Rani's command, O discreet Ali," he said in an undertone,"that these rascals are to be conducted to the boundary; but thou wilteasily gather her implied meaning. She declared she doth hope never toset eyes on any one of them again. Dost understand, she trusteth to thysword, that not one of them may by chance return."

  Dost Ali drew himself up and replied tersely.

  "I understand her command that they are to be set free at theboundary."

  "By Allah"! exclaimed Ahmad petulantly. "Thy mind doth evidence littlepenetration. Clearly she doth not wish them to be set free at theboundary,
but in some convenient spot dispatched from further harm."

  "If such be her meaning," replied the other firmly, "she must expressit thus to me in words. Too well do I know my duty to place aninterpretation of my own upon her plain command. As the order stands, Iwill escort them to the boundary."

  An exclamation of impatience burst from Ahmad's lips. The moment wasopportune for a still more wicked design. It left him no time to arguethe matter further.

  "Then get thee gone upon thy business," he retorted angrily. "For allmy trouble I see thou art poorly witted to rise in favor at the Rani'scourt. Thy stupidity will interpose between a great reward."

  "To obey an order strictly was ever the injunction of my illustriousteacher, Dost Mohammed Khan," the young officer replied firmly. "Alone,by so doing, do I seek reward."

  He saluted Ahmad haughtily, and turned to order the mounting of hiscommand.

  "A curse upon the fool," muttered Ahmad fiercely. "Who could havereckoned on a conscience from the Afghan school? But that the hourhas come to gratify a yearning hunger, I would beat submission to hisbrain."

  He bade the rest of the troopers await his return, and set forth inthe opposite direction taken by the Rani. When beyond the range ofobservation from the tomb, he turned, and quickly but cautiously madea _detour_ with the temple also, as his destination.

  In his mind he beheld the woman of his passionate desire, practicallyalone and unprotected. To the priests and attendants he wasted nota thought. They would fly in terror at the first cry of alarm. She,for whom he had jeopardized his soul by swearing falsely on the Koranwould then remain to suffer willingly or otherwise the purpose ofhis mind. That the ground was sacred, mattered not. Dedicated to aheathen God, it would have been an act of his faith to slaughterthe priests and raze the building to the ground. More, was not she,also, an unbeliever, given into his embrace by the will of God. Whenaccomplished, a swift horse in waiting, would, if need be, carry himfar distant from the vengeance of the outraged woman. Of that he hadnot been unmindful.

  The Rani had approached the temple with sorrow consuming her heart.Her affection for Prasad had gone forth spontaneously almost at theirfirst meeting. She had beheld in him what she believed to be her idealof a chivalrous noble. That he possessed failings due to youth andinexperience she was ready to admit; but that he should prove such ahopeless failure in all his qualities, was a bitter disappointment. Adrunkard, a consort of other women, while he asserted his unalterablelove for her, a conspirator against her authority if not her person,surely her affection could not have been bestowed upon a more worthlessobject. Her temperament was not such as to display her anguish bylamenting Prasad's faithlessness and her own wrong into every willingear; but none the less was there the necessity to obtain relief byan outpouring of her spirit. In secret, before the great God sheworshipped, she purposed to seek consolation for her wounded heart;then to go forth and bear outwardly before her people no trace of herinward grief.

  The temple was wrapt in silence. In the outer building white robed,recumbent figures of priests and attendants lay here and there wherethey had chosen a resting place. With hushed steps the Rani stolepast these, crossed a courtyard, and entered the chamber of the God.Save for the glow from an incense burner, the interior was veiled indarkness, to emphasize the unknown mysterious element of Siva's being.Before her, the figure of the God loomed a darker object, seated uponan altar pedestal, wrapt in profound, eternal meditation. The morrowwas a festival and flowers had already been bountifully scattered uponthe altar, and, in wreaths, hung about the person of the sacred image.She stood for a moment before the shrine, then knelt in prayer.

  "O great Siva," she petitioned. "All wise, all powerful, all just God,Protector of Animals, Vanquisher of Death; thou, whose vision andunderstanding doth penetrate all things from the infinitude of Heavento the deepest secrets of the human soul, behold the unhappiness ofthy daughter. Striving to be just yet ever suffering injustice, toappease jealousy but to behold new dissension rise on every hand, andO Holy God, loving only to receive ingratitude and faithlessness inreturn. Give me, I beg of thee, above all things, a spirit of resolutecourage to combat the vicissitudes of life, and to hold death powerlessof terror in whatever form it shall come. Aye, and O Great God, giveto me this divine quality so that I may inspire the faltering heartsof others, if need be to valiant deeds for the honor of our faith andcountry."

  She raised her face upward to the protecting hands of the God, andremained thus in silent communion.

  Ahmad Khan, too, approached the temple, and passed by the sleepingfigures. With noiseless tread he crossed the court, and stood upon thethreshold of the shrine. Before him, the woman still knelt in wraptdevotion. For a moment his eyes feasted on her captivating form. Ah_Allah!_ his at last.

  With the prize seeming to his hand, the intoxication of the momentstayed his grasp. His opportunity was lost. A cry near by, shrill andprolonged, as of a beast relentlessly attacked by some more powerfuladversary, rose upon the night. It echoed within the temple. The Ranistarted to her feet as Ahmad took a hasty stride forward. She seized atorch at hand and thrust it into the incense burner. Then facing him,she held it high above her head.

  Ahmad halted suddenly and trembled.

  The figure of the Rani, majestic and awe inspiring, posed before thedark image of the God, thrilled his soul with a first sensation ofterror. She appeared to gaze full upon him, yet beheld him not. Herstature seemed to rise visibly before his eyes. The light of the torchflaring upward cast into strong relief the ornate decorations of theshrine, the countenance of Siva no longer buried in thought; but, inhis non-Aryan aspect, wrathful and menacing. Her lips moved, but nosound came forth. She appeared to be enveloped in an ecstatic dream.

  Before his fixed gaze, strange beings floated in the air. Ancient VedicGods, the bright and shining ones. Indra the rain bringer, Agni the Godof fire, Vayu of the wind, Rudra the ruler of the tempest; their verynames long since buried in oblivion to the multitude.

  They gathered about the transfigured form of the Rani, as if to protecther from a shadow of harm.

  Was the scene but the effect of a feverish imagination? Incontradiction to the tenets of his religion, superstitious of all thatwas visionary and inexplicable, Ahmad was ready to believe the whole adread reality, a manifestation of divine blessing resting upon the headof the girl.

  He would have cried aloud for mercy, but terror had bereft his tongueof speech. He clasped his brow tightly. For a moment he reeled, thenfell to the pavement.

  The night was lost and won.