The Rape Of Venice

Chapter 17

In Desperate Straits

At the sight of the Venetian Roger's heart missed a beat. For a second the blood hammered in his ears and he thought he was about to choke. All his new found resolution and optimism ebbed from him. Since this was the friend that the Rajah had 'pleasured' by having his men murdered and himself captured, his hope of life was now even less than it had been when he was dragged down by the whirlpool of the sinking Minerva. As he looked again at the pasty pudding-​like face with the abnormally compelling eyes, he read his death sentence in it.

Like a large grey cat, Malderini padded up to within a few feet of him, smiled and said in French, 'Welcome to Bahna, Mr. Brook. When I set out for India I little thought that we should meet here. But I had not forgotten you, Mr. Brook. Oh dear me no. I owe you far too much. And did I not promise that sooner or later I would find an opportunity to repay you all I owe with interest? When I learnt by chance in a conversation with Colonel Gunston that…'

'Gunston!' The word burst from Roger's lips. For the past four days he had been praying for a speedy chance to plunge his rapier through the gallant Colonel's heart; now he would have opened his arms to him as to a long lost brother. His eyes lighting up with the sudden new hope that if Gunston was in the city he might play the role of a guardian angel, Roger hurried on: 'Gunston! Colonel Gunston. Where is he? I demand to see him!'

'You are no longer in a position to demand anything not even satisfaction, should I again knock you down,' Malderini replied with a sneer. 'As for Colonel Gunston, when His Highness learned that troops were advancing in this direction from

Orissa he sent heralds forbidding them to cross his border; but later he graciously consented to receive their Commander. So Colonel Gunston came here only for three nights as a visitor The lack of success which he met with in his mission was, I think, more than made up for by the happy time he had with the dancing girls that His Highness provided for his entertainment. He left here with obvious regret and many expressions of friendship, to return, presumably, to the encampment he had established across the mountains in Orissa.'

Having rendered Roger's new hope still born, the Venetian went on, 'But, as I was about to say, when describing to us the present state of society in Calcutta, among other names the Colonel mentioned yours. That you should chance to be in India at the same time as myself seemed to me an unmistakable indication by the Fates that they had arranged matters to facilitate my paying my debt to you. I at once put in hand the necessary measures and my faith in the Fates was justified Like a lamb to the slaughter you walked into my little trap. I felt confident you would have wit enough to pick up the clue of my using Bahna warriors as an escort and, once you were directed to the road we had taken, our gaudy palanquins must have proved as good confirmation as paper scattered by the hare in a paper chase that Bahna was our goal. The Fates were kind to me, too, in having made you so obsessed with Miss Marsham's charms as to marry her. That was guarantee enough that, did I bait my trap with her, you would be certain to come after her in hot pursuit.'

'Where is she?' Roger croaked. 'What have you done with her?'

She is here in the Palace; in good health and being well cared for. Tomorrow I propose to provide her with a little sport. She is, as you know, a fine shot with a bow and arrow, I intend to provide her with a special target. We shall make a package of you so that you have no resemblance to a man, and your vital parts will be well protected, as I do not mean you to be killed-​as yet. We shall gag you, then tie you firmly in position, with only your behind unprotected, and that we shall cover with a paper target, painted in circles of red, white and blue. Miss Marsham or rather Mrs. Brook will I am sure greatly enjoy practising her skill upon you.'

Roger's tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth, Malderini's hypnotic eyes held his so that he was forced to listen, while unable even to curse him. The Venetian touched the still livid scar that ran from his ear down to his chin, and went on:

'There is then this. I think to make you a just return for it I had best rip your face open with a piece of glass; but you may rest assured that I shall exercise great care that I cut no vein which might cause you to bleed to death. I do not mean you to die for a long time yet. But we must also consider the question of interest on the debt. Since you will never again be in a position to enjoy your wife, your manhood will be useless to you. I shall therefore deprive you of it and watch you grow fat, as is the case with eunuchs.'

With a supreme effort Roger had managed to force his eyes away from the Venetian's and down to the floor. Sweating with horror at the thought of these tortures from which there could be no escape, he gasped out:

'Go on! Go on! Then, no doubt, you'll have my nails torn out, my bones broken and my flesh burnt with hot irons till I die a mangled travesty of a man. Helpless as I am, I can rely only on God to punish you in the long hereafter. And in that I'll not be disappointed. But what of her? What of Clarissa? You cannot keep her indefinitely under the vile spell you have cast upon her.'

Malderini shrugged his drooping shoulders. I can for long enough to serve my purpose. Because I substituted a trick for a genuine attempt to levitate the Princess Sirisha, you must not assume that I have had no success in practising the Secret Art. I have long needed a fair woman born under the sign of Leo, and with Jupiter in the ascendant, for a ritual which I mean soon to attempt. She fulfils these conditions, so her body shall serve as an altar on which to make sacrifice to the Indian form of Bahomet, the giver of all power on this earth. After that I'll have no use for her, but there are others here who will have.'

His eyes still downcast, and with his arms bound behind him, but distraught with rage, Roger suddenly ran at his tormentor, swung back his right foot encased in its heavy riding boot, and kicked him in the stomach.

With a scream, Malderini went over backwards. There came a shout from the young Rajah, a sudden rush of trampling feet and the guards seized Roger, dragging him back from the squirming Venetian.

For a minute or more the silence was broken only by Malderini's groans. Then, having been helped to his feet, still sweating and panting for breath, he gasped out at Roger:

'A new debt… A new debt! It shall be paid.,. paid in full. When… when I have done with your… your wife, we'll give her to Alauddin… His Highness's pet baboon, Alauddin likes women. It is good sport to see what he does with them. You shall see too. Yes, I'll have your eyes held open so that you'll not miss a thing.'

Driven near mad by the hellish picture Malderini had conjured up, Roger exerted every ounce of his strength in an attempt to break away from his guards and get at him again. It was useless. They had him firmly by the arms and kicked his feet from under him. As he lay between them, half sprawled upon the floor, the Venetian glowered over him and wheezed:

'You hoped to provoke me into making a quick finish of you. did you not? But I have learned to control anger and to prevent myself from giving way to impulses which I should later regret. Tonight you may sleep in peace if you can. It is said, though, that anticipation is the greater part of pleasure. That it may harrow the mind with the thought of pain to come is equally true. I think that you will get little sleep while through the dark hours you contemplate the promises I have made you.' From French he broke into fluent Urdu and, after making a jerky bow to the young Rajah, ordered the guards to take Roger away.

Still struggling, he was dragged from the lofty hall, along several corridors and down a dark stairway. At its bottom there was a narrow chamber dimly lit by a smoky oil lamp. Along one side of it were a row of stout wooden doors, and a burly man was sitting there on a stool eating a mess out of a brass bowl. As the man stood up, a bunch of keys jangled at his girdle. Selecting one he unlocked one of the doors, and Roger was pitched through it, down a short flight of steps into a light less dungeon.

How long he lay where he had fallen, his body a mass or pains and aches from the kicks and cuffs he had received, and his brain half numbed by shock and hopeless misery, he never knew. Scratchings, squeaks and scamperings came to his ears without meaning; it was not until a rat actually ran across his face that he jerked himself up and made a conscious endeavour to think coherently. Wriggling along the floor he reached a wall, turned over, sat up with his back to it, and tried to sort out the nightmare through which he had lived since being brought before the Rajah of Bahna.

Bemused as his mind still was. one clear thought dominated it. He had done Clarissa a terrible injustice. On the flimsy grounds that she had encouraged Gunston's attentions during the latter half of January, he had allowed himself to believe that she had eloped with him. For four days he had been obsessed with that thought, yet now it seemed positively farcical. Worse, it was an insult to her honest and fearless character. The depth and tenacity of the love with which she had pursued him for so long should have been guarantee enough that she would never abandon him lightly, and that even if they had tired of one another to the extent of quarrelling most bitterly, she would have had the courage to tell him her intention before finally committing herself with another lover. Tears of shame welled up into his eyes and he mentally squirmed at the memory of having thought so meanly of her.

About what had actually taken place, he now had no doubts at all. As he had warned Clarissa at Stillwaters, no hypnotist could obtain power over a person unless that person willingly submitted to being hypnotised. But once they had surrendered their will to the hypnotist, he could without their consent hypnotise them again. The tragedy was that his warning had been given too late. In her eagerness to catch a glimpse of the future, Clarissa had asked Malderini to hypnotise her that afternoon, and all she could promise afterwards was to keep away from him so that he should have no opportunity of throwing her into a trance again.

Evidently, on learning from Gunston that they were in Calcutta, Malderini had set off there and, probably, stayed for some days at a place outside the city while he sent spies into it. All native servants were born gossips, and delighted in talking boastfully about their masters' and mistresses' affairs; so it would have been easy for a spy to learn from one of Roger's household that he intended to spend the week end up at Chinsurah.

After that all Malderini would have had to do was to come face to face with Clarissa so that he could stare at her for a few moments with those compelling eyes of his. To enforce silence on her temporarily and the suggestion that she must hear what he had to say in private would have been his first move. No doubt to break her will to a degree at which she would consent to have all her things packed and go away, apparently quite willingly, with him had required far greater effort and prolonged concentration, as it was certain that in her subconscious mind she would have fought desperately against such a command; but that explained why they had remained for over an hour together out on the veranda before she had begun to make her preparations for departure.

Roger could only hope now that Malderini had kept her in a state of trance right up to the present; for, if so, it seemed possible that she was still unaware that she had really been abducted, and thought herself only the victim of a horrid dream, so was at least not a prey to an agony of apprehension about her future.

He had got only so far in his unhappy speculations when the big key grated in the lock, the door swung open and the powerful looking jailer came down the three steps into the dungeon. The light percolating in from outside was just sufficient for Roger to see that he was carrying a calabash in one hand and a bowl in the other. Setting these down on the floor the man produced from his tunic a hammer, then fumbled about until he found the loose end of a chain that had its other end fixed in the wall. With the deft movements of long practice he put an iron shackle round Roger's left ankle and hammered home some rivets which secured it to the chain. Next he drew a knife, and cut the cords that bound Roger's arms, then, turning away, he left the dungeon, locking the door behind him.

As Roger's arms had been bound for several hours, he at first found it very painful to move them, but after a few minutes he was able to stretch out for the food and water left for him by the jailer. The bowl contained a cold curry which was so fierce that normally he would have refused it, but he had not eaten since midday and felt that he ought to keep up his strength; so he gulped down the mess bit by bit, then drank more than half the water in the calabash in an attempt to allay the burning of his throat.

The meal did him good and after it he began to wonder if there was any conceivable means by which he might escape. Now that his arms were free, next time the jailer came in to bring him a meal he might seize and attempt to overpower him. But the man was bigger than he was, so the chance of succeeding was poor. Perhaps, though, he could even up the odds by first snatching the jailer's knife. One swift ruthless stab, and to silence him after that would be easy. But did he carry his hammer on him? Roger had already examined the chain that held him by the leg and found it impossible to shift with his fingers the bolts fastening the ankle clamp. Without the hammer he would be unable to free himself unless. Yes, he should be able to work the staple, that secured the chain to the wall, out from between the stones with the point of the jailer's knife. But that might take hours. And what then?

He had been hustled through a maze of courts and corridors, vague memories of which now confused him rather than helped him to form any idea of the geography of the palace. When he reached the top of the stairs, he would not even know which way to turn with the best chance of getting out. He could disguise himself in the jailer's clothes; but he could not conceal his blue eyes and fair-​skinned face. They would betray him at one glance from any of the Rajah's people; and it was a certainty that he could not for long seek a way to freedom without coming upon some of them. Then, should he have the luck to reach a gate, during the night it would be locked and, since he was a foreigner, he could not hope to bluff the guards into letting him through. Even if by some miracle he escaped all these hazards and found a wall over which he could climb into the street, he would be little better off. As a single European in a native city his recapture within a few hours was certain.

Roger was an optimist by nature and, however desperate his situation, his resolution had never failed him; but he was forced to admit to himself now that to escape from Bahna,, without help from outside, was beyond his capabilities. If he attempted to kill his jailer and failed, he could expect a frightful beating. If he managed to get up into the palace, to the gate, or even out into the city, his eventual recapture, wherever it might take place, would certainly be accompanied by kicks and blows. Apart from a few bruises he was still in good shape, and he decided that it was better that he should remain so rather than expose himself to serious injury in attempting a forlorn hope. As long as he continued sound in wind and limb there was at least a chance that an opportunity would occur for him to spring upon and kill Malderini. If he could do that, whatever the Rajah's people might do to him afterwards, he would have the consolation of knowing that he had saved his sweet Clarissa from being made use of in some abominable Black Magic ceremony.

What sort of ceremony Malderini intended to perform, Roger could only guess at. But the Venetian had spoken of using Clarissa's body as an altar; so it sounded like a form of the Black Mass. Roger recalled a book he had read while in France which described the Marquise de Montespan's efforts to recapture the love of King Louis XIV. Apparently the discarded favourite had secured the infamous Abbe Gibourg to perform a number of Black Masses dedicated to that intent. There had followed a description of the Abbe saying the Mass backwards over the naked body of the beautiful Marquise, then cutting the throat of a kidnapped infant; after which both had drunk of the blood of the sacrifice and finished up blood-​spattered and mouthing obscenities in a violent sexual embrace.

From the mental picture of Malderini and Clarissa, under hypnotic domination, engaged in such a scene, Roger's mind revolted. He felt that if he allowed himself to think of it for any length of time he would go mad; so he sought desperately for some other matter upon which he could concentrate his thoughts.

The possibility of their being rescued seemed terribly remote; but at least it was a subject he could speculate upon. As he realised now, the three men of his escort had been deliberately murdered to ensure that no news of what had happened to him should get back to Calcutta. There, only Hickey knew that he had set out for Bahna; but Hickey believed that it was Gunston who had carried off Clarissa. He would therefore expect that Roger would regain possession of her and return with her towards the middle of the coming week or, should he fail to do so, presume that Gunston had proved the better man and that Roger had either been killed or seriously wounded by him in a duel. Either way, as far as he was concerned, it was a private quarrel between two young men over the possession of a pretty young woman and, whether or not he learned the outcome of it, no matter about which to go to the Governor.

If, after several weeks, Roger did not return, and when Gunston did but without Clarissa, Hickey's curiosity would naturally be aroused. Then, because he was representing Mr. and Mrs. Brook in the case against Winters, if for no other reason, he would set active enquiries on foot; but, by that time, Roger had good reason to suppose he, and probably Clarissa as well, would be beyond human aid.

That left only Gunston, who, presumably, was still encamped with his miniature army some twenty or thirty miles to the south, in Orissa. By this time he would have reported to Sir John Shore his failure to extract the twelve lakhs of rupees from the Rajah of Bahna; and Sir John might have sent him fresh instructions. Being so well aware of the Governor's pacifist policy, Roger could pin no hope of these being an order to attack the city. At best, Gunston might be ordered to request the Rajah to receive him again so that they might discuss matters further. And if he did arrive on a second visit, that would be of no help, because it was quite certain that no one would tell him that two English people were being held prisoners there.

Thinking of Gunston caused Roger to feel a little guilty about the intense, and quite unjustified, hatred he had been stoking up against his old enemy during the past few days. It was abundantly clear now that Gunston was in no way responsible for Clarissa's abduction. All the same, Roger was inclined to excuse his injustice on the grounds that Gunston had pursued Clarissa and a firm belief that, had he had the wit and opportunity, and had she been a weaker, vainer woman than she was, he would have carried her off, if only to score for once off her husband, who had so often got the better of him.

Time drifted by while a series of ghastly images chased one another through Roger's tired brain. Clarissa innocently shooting at a paper target forming the centre of an apparently solid six feet square of covered straw in which, after being gagged, he had been embedded; the arrows penetrating the taut muscles of his behind; Clarissa naked on a stone slab in some heathen temple; the blood streaming from his torn face as Malderini ripped it with a piece of jagged glass; Clarissa screaming and struggling vainly in the grip of a great gibbering baboon; the young, hook nosed, sensual mouth Rajah looking on with gloating pleasure at these sadistic acts conjured up by the evil mind of the Venetian.

These tormenting pictures flickered in turn like the steps of a treadmill, each of which kept coming to the surface in swift rotation, across his distraught imagination. So obsessed, in fact, had his mind become with these threatened horrors that the sounds of a struggle outside the dungeon did not consciously penetrate it. Not until the door was flung open and two men ran down the steps towards him did he rouse up with a sudden start.

One held a lamp. He was a smallish man and wore a red jacket with gilt buttons. His teeth gleamed very white under a thin moustache that had long drooping ends. Evidently he was the leader as he stood by while the other, who was robed in plain white, used the jailer's hammer to knock out the bolts that secured the shackle round Roger's ankle.

The moment he was free, the man in the red jacket grabbed him by the arm, pulled him to his feet and hurried him towards the door. Outside it a ghoulish scene was taking place. The big jailer lay sprawled on his back, his own knife protruding from his chest. He was near naked, as he had already been stripped of his robe, and a third man knelt above him swiftly unwinding the turban from his head. Snatching up the jailer's blood-​stained robe, the leader of the party thrust it at Roger, signing to him to put it on over his clothes.

Roger needed no second bidding. The sight of the dead jailer had told him only a moment before that he was not being fetched to provide fiendish sport for Malderini, but was being rescued. Almost choking with excitement, he bent his head so that the greasy turban could be bound about it. Out of the corner of his eyes he glimpsed the jailer's body being thrown down the steps into the dungeon, and suppressed a semi-​hysterical laugh. By using the man's own knife to kill him, taking his clothes and leaving his body within a few feet of where his prisoner had been chained to the wall, it was being made to appear as though Roger had actually carried out the plan that he had contemplated, and had abandoned only because he could see no hope of getting away from the city unaided.

The man in the red jacket sent one of his minions up the steep stairs, evidently to see that the coast was clear, as it was not until a low whistle sounded from above that he followed with Roger; the third man brought up the rear. On reaching the ground floor of the palace, they followed their advance guard at about twenty paces down a dim corridor, then through a doorway that gave onto a starlit court. The man who had gone ahead was waiting there and signed to them to halt. For two tense minutes they crouched in the shadow of the arched doorway, holding their breath, as they listened to the heavy tread of guards making a round some fifty paces distant.

When the sound had ceased, they went on again in the same order as before, slipping swiftly along one wall of the court, then half way down another and in through another door. They were now in a pillared hall and, having crossed it, turned right into a broad passage. Next moment a door in it opened and a man came out. He paused to stare at them. Without a second's hesitation, all three of Roger's companions flung themselves upon him. Before he had time to shout, a hand was clapped over his mouth and he was borne to the ground. With swift, terrifying efficiency they strangled him.

The ruthless act confirmed Roger's belief that, whatever the cost, his rescuers meant to cover their tracks and leave it to be supposed that he had managed to escape unaided.

Leaving the body where it lay, they hurried on, and went through another doorway that led into a large walled garden. From somewhere in the distance there came the sound of plaintive Eastern music, then of a woman's laughter. High above the walls the fronds of tall palm trees whispered in a gentle breeze. But as they crossed the garden Roger saw that its lily ponds were sheltered, so that their waters remained unruffled and mirrored the bright stars above. A heady scent filled the air from big banks of moonflowers, and from one of these against the far wall a hugely fat figure silently emerged. In a little piping voice that proclaimed him to be a eunuch, he said something to the man in the red jacket. There came the clink of coin as a small bag changed hands, then the eunuch turned and led the way to a low door in the wall. Its well-​oiled bolts were pulled back and a moment later Roger and his rescuers were out in a dark street.

Quickly they made their way along it, and through others, some of which were so narrow that the jutting balconies of the houses in them were not much more than a yard apart, and almost shut out the stars. Occasionally a figure shuffled past or, vaguely seen, stirred in the shadow of a doorway. Now and then a dog barked, and once they had to step aside into the mouth of an alley to let a closely curtained palanquin pass. Here and there chinks of light gleamed between shutters or threw up the criss-​cross woodwork fencing in the balconies overhead so that, although there was so little movement to be seen, there was a mysterious sense of wakeful life still pulsing behind the dark facades of many of the houses.

It was this which told Roger that it could not be as late as he had thought. He knew that it must have been about nine o'clock when he had been brought before the Rajah, but after that he had lost all sense of time. Although the agony he had endured in the dungeon had seemed interminable, he thought now that he had probably not been down there for much more than two hours; and as his rescue had obviously been carefully planned, it seemed probable that it would have been timed for the hour at which most of the inmates of the palace were settling down for the night, rather than later when any sound of movement would have attracted attention from the guards.

After ten minutes' walk the party pulled up half way along a high wall, above which the tops of trees could be vaguely seen. The leader rapped in a pattern of knocks on a door in it, and at this signal the door was opened. They crossed a small garden and entered the house by a fretwork swing gate, which gave directly onto a room with silk-​covered walls. In it an elderly woman was seated behind a low table sorting out a quantity of seed-​pearls and beads of different shapes and colours. The sari she wore was quite plain but of dark rich material. She had a hook nose and fine eyes which showed that when younger she must have been very handsome; age had given her a downy moustache.

The man in the red jacket went down on his knees before her and touched the ground with his forehead. Roger had already realised that she must be someone of importance and made her a low bow. His other two rescuers had disappeared. The old lady stood up and said something to their leader that caused him to open his mouth in a laugh, which suddenly revealed that he was a tongue less mute. With a wave of her hand she then dismissed him and turning to Roger, said in Persian:

'Leave that blood-​stained garment on the floor and come with me.'

Already agog with curiosity to learn who these people were, and why they should have gone to such lengths to save him, Roger threw off the jailer's robe and followed her through a curtained doorway into a larger and more richly furnished room. At one side of it a man was sitting cross-​legged on a divan. He had on a pale blue robe patterned with gold thread, and a very large flat turban, and was smoking a hookah, it was not until Roger had bowed and looked up again that he recognised him, by his fine grey upturned moustache as the nobleman who had been seated on a stool in front of the young Rajah's throne. At these much closer quarters it was also apparent that he was afflicted with an appalling squint.

Speaking as quickly as his Persian permitted, Roger at once began to express his unbounded gratitude, but his saviour cut him short by holding up his hand, waving him to be seated on a big leather pouf, and saying in the same language:

'Know Brook Sahib that I am the Wazier Rai-​ul-​daula, and that I have saved your life because I have hopes that you can save mine. But time is precious. Tell me what you know of Bahna and the wizard, Malderini, who bears you so great a hatred?'

'Of Bahna I know little, Excellency,' Roger replied; 'only that the old Rajah died about a year ago, and that the young one defies the Company. The Venetian I met while he was in England on a mission for his Government, and I inflicted serious injury on him in a duel. He was married to an Indian Princess, but I had not the remotest idea that he was in India or what had brought him here.'

'You know no more of him than that?'

'No; except that, although he wields hypnotic power through his eyes, he is not a true magician. My duel with him was owing to his being caught out as a fraud.'

'Yet, through his eyes his power is great. I am one of the very few immune from it; and only because of this.' The Wazier made a gesture towards his own eyes, and Roger realised that, on account of their terrible squint, Malderini would not be able to focus his directly on them.

'I must, then, tell you of Bahna,' Rai-​ul-​daula went on. 'The late Rajah was my brother and, at the time of which I shall first speak, I was his ambassador to the court of Delhi; so of these events I was not a witness, but I received entirely reliable accounts of them afterwards. It was fourteen years ago that the Malderinis came to India. While they traded for jewels they studied the arts of the fakirs, and by the time they reached Bahna they had mastered many of the hidden mysteries.'

'They?' Roger repeated. 'Does your Excellency mean that Malderini had with him a wife?'

'No, no; the woman was his sister-​a twin sister. They are said to have been so remarkably alike that but for their clothes they could hardly be told apart, and "both of them possessed the power to mesmerise. Very soon the woman had gained a great influence over the ladies of the harem, and she used it to get them to persuade my brother to give the man for a wife the little Princess Sirisha. She was my brother's only child by his first wife; so a fine marriage portion went with her, and she was heiress on my brother's death to a far greater sum.

'Naturally, he was averse to such a match. For one thing he did not wish to see her fortune going to a foreigner instead of to a Prince of some other reigning house, an alliance with which would have been of value to Bahna. For another, the Princess was only nine years old; so over young to marry. But the ladies were set upon it and made his life a misery; the man

Malderini promised by secret arts both to increase his wealth and restore his failing virility, and the question of the child's age was overcome by an undertaking that she should remain in charge of the women until she was thirteen.

At length my poor bother gave way and the ceremony of marriage was performed. By mesmerising him Malderini did, for a time, increase his potency, but said that he could obtain riches for him only by making a journey to the far mountains of the north, and that he must take his young wife and sister with him. In due course, with numerous attendants, they set off. What happened later we can only guess from hearsay the garbled versions of some of the bearers who returned weeks later.

'The sister was much the stronger personality of the two; and it may be that her brother had for long secretly resented her dominance over him. Be that as it may, after a night when the cavalcade had camped in desolate country, he suddenly announced that she was ill of fever. For two days he would allow no one except himself to tend her or enter her tent in which she lay. Two mornings later he declared her dead and that, the fever having been a form of plague, her body must be disposed of at once. He had himself already sewn it up in a sheet, and he had it thrown over a precipice.'

The Wazier paused, then went on impressively, 'Yet the bearers who returned say that the body in the sheet had already the stench of decay. And more, more; on the first morning the vultures gathered overhead. Carrion birds have an awareness of death which brings them from afar. She must have been dead then, and Malderini's pretence that she was ill of a fever a cloak to conceal that he had murdered her.'

'How long was it, Excellency,' Roger asked, 'before he again appeared in Bahna?'

'Not until six weeks ago. He had learned of my brother's death, and returned to claim his wife's inheritance.'

'Ah, now I understand. Did he bring the Princess with him?'

'No. He told us that her health would not permit her to travel.'

'She was well enough when I saw her with him in England nine months ago. But there is a very different explanation. He has almost complete control over her; yet she escaped from it the night before my duel with him long enough to beg me to kill him. She regards him as the personification of evil, and he is doubtless aware of that. If so, he would not dare to bring her back here, from fear that once she was among her own people she would find means to rid herself of him.'

Rai-​ul-​daula nodded. 'Poor woman. Yes; no doubt you are right. I come now to what followed my brother's death. I had for some ten years been his Wazier. It was his wish that I should retain that office. Given normal circumstances, with the" exercise of tact, I foresaw no great difficulty in doing so. He chose his heir without consulting me; but my authority was sufficient to make any of his sons hold me in respect for some years at least, and during them I expected to inculcate into whichever was chosen sound principles for the government of Bahna.

The present Rajah, Jawahir-​ul-​daula, is a vain and vicious youth. As is not unusual at such successions, within a week he had his two most gifted half-​brothers strangled. I made no protest, for to do so would not only have been futile, but also make him distrustful of me. I gave him his head, too, when he wished to play the peacock before his court by refusing to accede the Company's demands. Why not? The weakness and vacillation your Sir John Shore showed in the affairs of Oudh, when he had to settle the succession to our cousin the Nawab Asaf-​ul-​daula, made it clear to me that he would take no steps against us until positively driven to it and, in the meantime, we would have the use of the money.'

Roger could not help smiling as the squint-​eyed Wazier went on. 'That was well enough; but I am not so great a fool as to expect to get the better of the Company for always. Bahna is too small a State and too near to Bengal to pick a quarrel of gravity with the English. This Sir John Shore will in time go home. There will come another. Not as great, perhaps, as your Lord Clive, or as wise and strong as your Mr. Hastings; but a true representative of your race, like the Lord Cornwallis or the Sir Eyre Coote. Then there would come war. Indian troops make brave warriors when led by their Princes one state against another, but they are no match for your redcoats, or the sepoy troops you train so cleverly, Bahna would be swiftly conquered, a huge fine imposed upon us, and the throne perhaps lost for good to my family. Am I not right?'

'Indeed, Excellency,' Roger bowed. 'Your words are full of wisdom.'

'Good. Then it will not surprise you to know that when we learned of the approach of Colonel Gunston's force I was prepared to compromise. My advice to His Highness was to pay half and to continue to argue about paying the other half for as long as possible. But the accursed Malderini had already been here for some weeks. By then he had succeeded in making himself the master not only of the mind of our young Rajah but, apart from myself, of those of the principal men of the court.

'I believe him to be in the pay of the French; but of that I am not certain. It is clear only that he is set on making trouble for us with the English. My advice was overruled, the Company's troops were refused entrance to Bahna and the Colonel Gunston told that we would pay no part of the debt. But worse has followed. Malderini set off for Calcutta and kidnapped this English lady, your wife. Using her…'

At that Roger could no longer contain his impatience to speak of Clarissa, and he broke in, 'Forgive me, Excellency; but I am consumed with anxiety about her. Malderini said that she was in the palace and in good health. Was he telling the truth?'

'Yes,' the Wazier nodded. Then waving a hand towards the old lady who, since she had brought Roger into the room, had been sitting quietly in a corner listening to them, he added: 'My honoured mother, the Begum Gunavati, saw her only this morning. She will confirm that your wife has suffered neither hardship nor injury.'

Springing up, Roger turned with a bow to the Begum and cried: 'I beg your Highness to tell me of her.'

The old lady gave him a kindly smile, and said: 'You have no cause for anxiety about her bodily state, and she seems sad rather than unhappy. She eats well but speaks little, and that is not because she lacks enough words of Urdu to make her meaning understood. For hours she sits doing nothing, as though she were living in a dream. That, I fear, is because this evil man has cast a spell upon her. The remedy is an ancient one and may prove difficult of accomplishment. To restore her to herself you must bring about his death, then burn his heart and cause her to eat some of its ashes in a stew of garlic'

'I pray only for the chance to kill him,' Roger exclaimed, then he swung back to the Wazier. 'I implore your Excellency's help in this. Please have me taken back by your men, into the palace and led to the room he occupies.'

Rai-​ul-​daula shook his head. 'That is not possible. The door by which you left the palace will have been bolted after you. I have no means of communicating with the eunuch who let you out, or any other way in which 1 could secure your entrance.'

'Tomorrow then!' Roger urged. 'You could arrange for the eunuch to let me in tomorrow night; and if I had a man to guide me…'

'No, no; no! Even if I could do this without risk of it being discovered that it was I who had aided you, I would not. It would lead only to your death. Had it been possible to have him strangled, he would be dead by now. I would have seen to that. But he is too alert, too well guarded. And did he learn that I had sponsored your attempt, his influence with His Highness is enough to bring about my death also.'

'But the thought of my wife in the clutches of that devil is driving me insane. If you will not give me the chance to kill him, then I beg you to rescue her. Your people succeeded in getting me out of a dungeon, so surely…'

'You ask the impossible!' The Wazier cut him short with an impatient gesture. 'To rescue you without an alarm being raised, it was necessary first only to surprise and kill the keeper of the dungeon. Your wife's case is quite otherwise. She is an inmate of His Highness's seraglio. To order my people to break in there would be against all principle; neither would I ask it of them.'

'I ask only, Excellency, that they should lead me to it. I will do the rest.'

'You think so, eh? Then I will describe what would come to pass. Within five minutes a hundred screaming women would have aroused the whole palace; within ten the eunuchs would have seized, blinded and castrated you. Only a man whose mind is bemused by love would propose such wild schemes. Your wife is in no immediate danger. I pray you calm yourself. Be seated again and take heed of what I am about to say.'

With a sigh, Roger sank down on the pouf. The Wazier began to tick points off on his long fingers. 'Jawahir-​ul-​daula defies the Company. The Colonel Gunston is sent away empty handed, Malderini kidnaps an English lady. He uses her to lure here her husband. Both disappear in Bahna. At that the aristocrat English of Calcutta become greatly angry. They say to the weak Sir Shore: You shall shilly-​shally no longer but must make an example of this small state. The force of Gunston's is ordered to advance, and it is Malderini who has the ear of His Highness. He will puff the vain youth up with pride and counsel him to fight. If I protest, that will provide the excuse Malderini is already seeking. Because my eyes are afflicted his evil glance cannot dominate me; so he bears me great hatred. He is eager for the chance to destroy me. Yet, say that I do not give it to him; what then?'

As the Wazier paused, evidently expecting an answer, Roger said: 'Your fate will be sealed just the same, because the British will defeat the Bahna army. If His Highness and yourself do not die in battle you, as his Wazier, will be held responsible with him for the policy which brought the war about, and have to pay the penalty.'

'Your thoughts are as mine. Because the evil Malderini has the power to make Jawahir-​ul-​daula his cat’s-​paw against the English, many of our people must die, our treasury be emptied, the city perhaps sacked, and my family lose the throne. How shall we prevent this?'

Without, this time, waiting for a reply, Rai-​ul-​daula continued: 'We must invite attack before the English in Calcutta become really angry and force Sir Shore to order our destruction. The Colonel Gunston must march his troops swiftly through the mountains. His Highness will order his army to take the field; but it will not fight. I and its other principal commanders will so arrange that it does not. Jawahir-​ul-​daula has had his opportunity to reign, He has proved himself a weak and Bad Prince. He will be deposed. Malderini will be seized and executed. Your wife will be freed. The colonel Gunston will be entertained by many dancing girls and given rich presents. When he leaves he will take back with him the twelve lakhs of rupees owed to the Company. All will be well.'

'You give me new hope?' Roger exclaimed eagerly. 'But how, Excellency, are we to get Gunston to act.'

That should not be difficult; the Wazier shrugged, if you go to him, tell him how things are here, and inform him of our conversation.'

Again Roger jumped to his feet. 'Of course! He might distrust a written message, fearing it to be a trap; whereas if I tell him personally all that has occurred cannot fail to convince him. But can you get me out of the city? I'd need a horse, too; and a guide.'

Rai-​ul-​duala rose from the divan. His squint was most disconcerting, but he smiled. 'I am happy that you find my plan good; for my life hangs on it, as well as the safety of your wife. All is provided for. Come with me.'

The Begum Gunavati had also risen to her feet. Going to a cabinet she produced a flat package and, handing it to Roger, said: 'Hospitality has been outraged by our failure to offer you food and drink. That time is precious must be our poor excuse; but this may help to support you on your journey.'

Having thanked her he followed the Wazier out into a square hall. A tall hawk-​featured native whose skin was paler than that of most Indians was waiting there and salaamed to him. Acknowledging the salutation with a wave of his hand, he said to Roger: 'This is Mahmud Ali Kajar, an Afghan of the far north. I brought him with me from Delhi and trust him as I would a brother. He speaks a little Persian and will take you safely through the mountains.' Then he turned and led the way up several flights of stairs.

When they reached the second floor Rai-​ul-​daula crossed the landing and entered a room in which a single lamp was burning. Its light was enough to show a stout rope coiled up on the floor beneath a latticed window. Mahmud Ali opened the window and threw out the unsecured end of the rope, smiled at Roger, then climbed over the sill and shinned down it.

The Wazier laid a hand on Roger's shoulder, and said, 'Follow him and have no fear. The camp is twenty miles distant and the road to it winds through the mountains making half as much again; but the moon will soon be up and prove your friend. You should be with the Colonel Gunston before the heat of morning. May the Gods protect you and bring you back swiftly.'

Roger was very conscious that, although their interests were mutual, he owed both his life and this chance to save Clarissa to the Wazier; so he thanked him most earnestly. Then, loath to lose an unnecessary moment, he slid over the window-​sill and, hand-​over-​hand, lowered himself quickly to the ground.

The house from which he had come was built into the great wall, so he was now outside the city; and the starlight was sufficient for him to recognise, only a hundred yards away, the outline of the tower-​flanked gate by which he had been brought into it soon after dusk had fallen. The rope's end danced before him as Rai-​ul-​duala began to draw it up, then Mahmud Ali twitched him by the sleeve, drawing him towards the open country.

For a few minutes they stumbled over rough ground, then they struck the road. A half-​mile walk along it brought them to a farm house. Leaving Roger outside, Mahmud Ali went into its yard; evidently arrangements had already been made, for he emerged again almost at once leading two horses.

At a steady trot they set off, keeping to the main road for about two miles, then turning off it onto one that led southward. Half an hour later the moon had risen silvering the tops of a low range of mountains they were approaching. Roger had met with no serious injury either while being captured or during the time he had spent as a prisoner, and although it was many hours since he had slept he was not conscious of any feeling of fatigue. The fact that, by a miracle, he was free again was sufficient to renew his vigour, and the thought that Clarissa's rescue depended on his exertions, spurred him to fresh efforts.

Halting only from time to time to rest the horses, they rode hour after hour along twisting stony tracks, down steep hills, through boulder-​strewn rivulets, and up again through dark gorges. The moon had set and the sky was paling in the east when Mahmud Ali reined in his mount at the farther end of a pass, and pointing southward said in his stilted Persian:

'I come no farther, Sahib. From here, were it light, you could see town of Bamanghati. It lies in plain; five miles, six perhaps. To right of it lies camp. Allah be with you!'

As Roger rode on alone he suddenly felt hungry, so he took from his pocket the flat packet that the Begum had given him. To his delight he found it to be a slab of nougat, for few things could have been better suited to sustain him that the rich mixture of honey and almonds. By the time he had disposed of a dozen mouthfuls he was half-​way down the winding track and, at intervals, could now see plainly both the town and camp. Another half-​hour and, with his mount in a lather from having cantered the last mile, he reached the entrance to the lines.

He had made the arduous journey in about five hours, so it was not yet seven o'clock; but the camp was already stirring. The sepoys were milking their goats and lighting fires to cook their chupatties; havildars were shouting orders at fatigue squads and orderlies taking officers' chargers down to water at a stream that flowed through the camp.

A guard was being relieved at the roadside as he passed, but as he was a European no attempt was made to stop him. On slightly higher ground, a quarter of a mile away, stood a row of larger tents and two big marquees, which were obviously the officers' quarters. Riding straight up to them, he threw himself off his horse. For the first time he was conscious of a terrible fatigue and stiffness of his limbs, but the knowledge that he was now certain of securing help to rescue Clarissa kept his mind buoyant.

In front of one of the tents, a young officer, in his shirtsleeves, was just about to wash in a canvas bucket, and Roger called to him urgently:

'Colonel Gunston! Where is he? I must see him at once.'

Pointing to one of the marquees, the young man called back. 'He is in there. But he'll still be asleep, and he is apt to resent being woken early.'

'I can't help that,' Roger croaked, his voice gone suddenly hoarse. 'Anyway, he'll not resent it on this occasion. I come on a matter of life or death.'

The young man promptly put down the bowl he was holding, ordered his servant to take Roger's mount and hurried with him over to the marquee. The sentry in front of it came to attention and stood rigid as they passed through the flap. Inside it was divided into two sections, the larger comfortably furnished as a reception room, and behind it a curtained-​off sleeping-​quarter. In the first a native servant was seated cross-​legged on the floor pipe-​claying his master's equipment. With a look of surprised apprehension he quickly came to his feet and put a finger to his lips; but the officer told him sharply to wake the Colonel Sahib.

With evident reluctance the man went over to the curtain and called several times, softly, through it. After a moment there came the sound of hearty cursing, then low muttering and a pause.

Roger could hardly contain his impatience. He knew that by this time his escape must have been discovered. When it became evident that he had got clean away Malderini would expect him to return with troops. That meant that the Venetian would expedite his plan for using Clarissa in some horrible occult ceremony; or he might disappear from Bahna with her. But he could not know that Roger had been aided in his escape and supplied with a horse and guide; so he would probably count himself safe for several days at least. There was, therefore, still a good chance to take him by surprise before he could harm Clarissa. But only if Gunston broke camp at once, for it would take two days to march the troops through the hills; so every moment counted.

Suddenly the curtain was wrenched aside, and Gunston appeared, wrapped in a chamber-​robe, his red hair tousled and his beefy face flushed with anger. Beyond him Roger caught a glimpse of a wide-​eyed young native girl with small firm breasts sitting up among the rumpled coverings of a divan.

'What the hell's the meaning of this?' Gunston shouted. Then, recognising his visitor, he exclaimed, "Why, damn'e if it isn't Roger Brook! And what a state you're in, man! You look as if you'd been beset by robbers and barely got away. But what the devil brings you here?'

'I come from Banna,' Roger cried. 'You were there recently. You met a Venetian, a man named Malderini, and told him that Clarissa and I were in Calcutta.'

'Did I! Why, yes; perhaps I made mention of you to him. But what of it?'

'He bears me a deadly grudge. He came down to Calcutta, and while I was up at Chinsurah kidnapped Clarissa.'.

Gunston's sandy eyebrows shot up. 'Good God! The swine! D'you mean he's holding her prisoner in Bahna?'

'Yes. I followed; but he guessed I would and laid an ambush for me. He meant to kill me by slow torture; but by the grace of God I escaped, and have been riding hell for leather through the hills all night.'

'Well done! I will say you never lacked for guts, Brook. But what of Clarissa?'

'To arrange her escape was impossible. That fiend has her prisoner still, and threatens all sorts of abominations for her.'

'Poor girl! What a hellish business! I don't wonder at the state you're in. But what's to be done?'

'Done!' cried Roger. 'Why, sound the alarm! Parade your troops! Break camp!'

'What's this you say?'

'Give orders for an immediate march. Every moment is precious. We can start in an hour. We'll be through the mountains in two days. Two nights hence we'll take the city by surprise, and have her out of his clutches.'

Gunston's full mouth fell open; then he shook his head. 'I'm sorry for you, Brook. Indeed I am. And I've never concealed from you that I've a soft spot for Clarissa. But this trouble must have driven you out of your mind. What you suggest is impossible.'

'Impossible!' Roger gasped. 'You cannot mean…'

'I mean that, were you my dearest friend, or Clarissa my own wife, I could not use the Company's troops in a private quarrel. And I have my orders. They are in no circumstances to start a war with the Rajah of Bahna.'