Rung Ho! A Novel by Talbot Mundy (best black authors txt) 📕

“You will have my promise to depend on.”

“Truly! And there will be how many hundred men to override the promise of one woman? Nay! My word is good; my promise holds; but on my own conditions! Help me to escape. Then follow me to Howrah City. Come in advance of thy Rangar escort. By that I will know that the Rangars and this Cunningham are my friends—otherwise they would not let thee come. The Rangars are to exact guarantees from my brother? How should I know that they do not come to help my brother crush me out of existence? With thee in my camp as hostage I would risk agreement with them, but not otherwise. Escape with me now, or follow. But bring no Rangars, sahiba! Come alone!”

“I will not. I would not dare trust you.”

Jaimihr laughed. “I have been reckoning, sahiba, how many hours will pass before my army comes to rip this nest of Alwa's from its roots, and defile the whole of it! If I am to spare the people on this rock, then I must hurry! Should my men come here to carry me away, they will be less merciful than I! Choose, sahiba! Let me go, and I will spare these Rangars until such time as they earn punishment anew. Or let me go, and follow me. Then fight with the Rangars and for the Company, with thee as the price of my alliance. Or leave me in this cell until my men come to rescue me. The last would be the simplest way! Or it would be enough to help me escape and wait until I have done my share at conquering the British. Then I could come and claim thee! Choose, sahiba; there are many ways, though they all end in one goal.”

“If I am the price of your allegiance,” said Rosemary, “then I will pay the price. Five thousand men for the British cause are dearer to me than my own happiness. I promise, Jaimihr-sahib, that I will come to you in Howrah. I shall come accompanied by one servant, named Joanna, and—I think—by my father; and the Rangars and Mr. Cunningham shall be at least a day's ride behind me. I give my word on that. But—I can promise you, on Mr. Cunningham's behalf, and on the Alwa-sahib's, and Mahommed Gunga's, that should you have made any attempt against my liberty—should you have offered me any insult or indignity—before they come—should you have tried to anticipate the terms of your agreement—then—then—there would be an end of bargaining and promises, Jaimihr-sahib, and your life would be surely forfeit! Do you understand?”

“Surely, sahiba!”

“Do you agree?”

“I already have agreed. They are my terms. I named them!”

“I would like to hear you promise, on your honor.”

“I swear by all my gods and by my honor. I swear by my love, that is dearer to me than a throne, and by the name and the honor of a Rajput!”

“Be ready, then. I am going now to hide the rope in the shadow of the wall. It will take perhaps fifteen minutes. Be ready.”

He made a quick movement to embrace her, but she slipped out and escaped him; and he thought better of his sudden plan to follow her, remembering that her word was likely to be good, whatever his might be. He elected to wait inside until she returned for him. He little knew that he missed the downward swing of Alwa's sabre, that was waiting, poised and balanced for him, in the darkness by the door.

“Bismillah! I would have had a right to kill him had he followed her and broken faith so early in the business!” Alwa swore, excusing his impatience to Mahommed Gunga. “Have no fear, sahib!” he counselled Cunningham a moment later, laying a heavy hand on the boy's arm. “Let her keep her promises. That Hindoo pig will not keep his! We will be after her, and surely—surely we will find good cause for some throat-slitting as well as the cancelling of marriage promises!”

“Do you understand, Alwa-sahib, that—if Jaimihr keeps his promise to her, she must keep hers to him? Do you realize that?”

“Allah! Listen to him! Yes, sahib. Truly, bahadur, I appreciate! I also know that I have given certain promises which I, too, must fulfil! She is not the only bargainer! I am worrying more about those guarantees that Howrah was to give—I am anxious to see how, with fifteen hundred, we are to get the better of a Rajah and his brother and their total of ten thousand! I want to see those promises performed! Ay! The Miss-sahib has done well. She has done her share. Let her continue. And do thou thy share, bahadur! I am at thy back with my men, but give us action!”

Cunningham held up a lantern, and looked straight at Duncan McClean. The missionary had held his daughter's hand while she recounted what had happened in the cell. Whatever he may have thought, he had uttered no word of remonstrance.

“Of course, we go to Howrah ahead of you,” he answered to Cunningham's unspoken question.

Cunningham held out his right hand, and the missionary shook it.

“Hold the lamp, please,” said Cunningham, and Mahommed Gunga seized it. Then Cunningham took paper and a pencil and read aloud the answer that he wrote to Byng-bahadur. He wrote it in Greek characters for fear lest it might fall into the enemy's hands and be too well understood.

“I can be with you in one week, sir, and perhaps sooner. Unless we are all killed in the meantime we should number more than fifteen hundred when we come. Expect either all or none of us. The situation here is critical, but our course seems clear, and we ought to pull through. Mahommed Gunga sends salaams. Your obedient servant,

“RALPH CUNNINGHAM.”

“Would God I could see the clear course!” laughed Alwa.

“Call the Sikh, please.”

The Sikh came running, and Cunningham gave him the folded note.

“Have you a horse for him, Alwa-sahib?”

“That has been attended to, sahib,” the Sikh answered. “The Alwa-sahib has given me a wonder of a horse.”

“Very well, then, Jaidev Singh. Watch your chance. Go to the parapet, and when you see by their lanterns that the cavalry below have ridden off, then race for all you're worth with that news for Byng-bahadur!”

“Salaam, sahib!” said the Sikh.

“Salaam, Jaidev Singh. And now hide, every-body! Don't let Jaimihr get the impression that we're playing with him.”

A little later Miss McClean led Jaimihr through a passage in the rock, off which axe-hewn cells led on either side, to the far side of the summit, where the parapet was higher but the wall was very much less sheer. The Prince's arms were still too sore from the wrenching he received when they took him prisoner for him to dare trust himself hand over hand on a rope; she had to make the rope fast beneath his armpits, and then lower him slowly, taking two turns with the rope round the waist of a brass cannon. The Prince fended