The Broken Road Read online

  CHAPTER II

  INSIDE THE FORT

  The six English officers made it a practice, so far as they could, todine together; and during the third week of the siege the conversationhappened one evening to take a particular turn. Ever afterwards, duringthis one hour of the twenty-four, it swerved regularly into the samechannel. The restaurants of London were energetically discussed, andtheir merits urged by each particular partisan with an enthusiasm whichwould have delighted a shareholder. Where you got the best dinner, wherethe prettiest women were to be seen, whether a band was a drawback or anadvantage--not a point was omitted, although every point had beendebated yesterday or the day before. To-night the grave question of theproper number for a supper party was opened by Major Dewes of the 5thGurkha Regiment.

  "Two," said the Political Officer promptly, and he chuckled under hisgrey moustache. "I remember the last time I was in London I took out tosupper--none of the coryphees you boys are so proud of being seen aboutwith, but"--and, pausing impressively, he named a reigning lady of thelight-opera stage.

  "You did!" exclaimed a subaltern.

  "I did," he replied complacently.

  "What did you talk about?" asked Major Dewes, and the Political Officersuddenly grew serious.

  "I was very interested," he said quietly. "I got knowledge which it wasgood for me to have. I saw something which it was well for me to see. Iwished--I wish now--that some of the rulers and the politicians couldhave seen what I saw that night."

  A brief silence followed upon his words, and during that silence certainsounds became audible--the beating of tom-toms and the cries of men. Thedinner-table was set in the verandah of an inner courtyard open to thesky, and the sounds descended into that well quite distinctly, butfaintly, as if they were made at a distance in the dark, open country.The six men seated about the table paid no heed to those sounds; they hadhad them in their ears too long. And five of the six were occupied inwondering what in the world Sir Charles Luffe, K.C.S.I., could havelearnt of value to him at a solitary supper party with a lady of comicopera. For it was evident that he had spoken in deadly earnest.

  Captain Lynes of the Sikhs broke the silence:

  "What's this?" he asked, as an orderly offered to him a dish.

  "Let us not inquire too closely," said the Political Officer. "This isthe fourth week of the siege."

  The rice-fields of the broad and fertile valley were trampled down andbuilt upon with sangars. The siege had cut its scars upon the fort'srough walls of mud and projecting beams. But nowhere were its marks morevisible than upon the faces of the Englishmen in the verandah of thatcourtyard.

  Dissimilar as they were in age and feature, sleepless nights and theunrelieved tension had given to their drawn faces almost a familylikeness. They were men tired out, but as yet unaware of theirexhaustion, so bright a flame burnt within each one of them. Somewhereamongst the snow-passes on the north-east a relieving force would surelybe encamped that night, a day's march nearer than it was yesterday.Somewhere amongst the snow-passes in the south a second force would besurely advancing from Nowshera, probably short of rations, certainlyshort of baggage, that it might march the lighter. When one of those twoforces deployed across the valley and the gates of the fort were againthrown open to the air the weeks of endurance would exact their toll. Butthat time was not yet come. Meanwhile the six men held on cheerily,inspiring the garrison with their own confidence, while day after day aprovince in arms flung itself in vain against their blood-stained walls.Luffe, indeed, the Political Officer, fought with disease as well as withthe insurgents of Chiltistan; and though he remained the master-mind ofthe defence, the Doctor never passed him without an anxious glance. Forthere were the signs of death upon his face.

  "The fourth week!" said Lynes. "Is it, by George? Well, the siege won'tlast much longer now. The Sirkar don't leave its servants in the lurch.That's what these hill-tribes never seem to understand. How is Travers?"he asked of the Doctor.

  Travers, a subaltern of the North Surrey Light Infantry, had been shotthrough the thigh in the covered waterway to the river that morning.

  "He's going on all right," replied the Doctor. "Travers had bad luck. Itmust have been a stray bullet which slipped through that chink in thestones. For he could not have been seen--"

  As he spoke a cry rang clearly out. All six men looked upwardsthrough the open roof to the clear dark sky, where the stars shonefrostily bright.

  "What was that?" asked one of the six.

  "Hush," said Luffe, and for a moment they all listened in silence, withexpectant faces and their bodies alert to spring from their chairs. Thenthe cry was heard again. It was a wail more than a cry, and it soundedstrangely solitary, strangely sad, as it floated through the still air.There was the East in that cry trembling out of the infinite darknessabove their heads. But the six men relaxed their limbs. They hadexpected the loud note of the Pathan war-cry to swell sonorously, andwith intervals shorter and shorter until it became one menacing andcontinuous roar.

  "It is someone close under the walls," said Luffe, and as he ended a Sikhorderly appeared at the entrance of a passage into the courtyard, and,advancing to the table, saluted.

  "Sahib, there is a man who claims that he comes with a message fromWafadar Nazim."

  "Tell him that we receive no messages at night, as Wafadar Nazim knowswell. Let him come in the morning and he shall be admitted. Tell him thatif he does not go back at once the sentinels will fire." And Luffe noddedto one of the younger officers. "Do you see to it, Haslewood."

  Haslewood rose and went out from the courtyard with the orderly. Hereturned in a few minutes, saying that the man had returned to WafadarNazim's camp. The six men resumed their meal, and just as they ended it aPathan glided in white flowing garments into the courtyard and bowed low.

  "Huzoor," he said, "His Highness the Khan sends you greeting. God hasbeen very good to him. A son has been born to him this day, and he sendsyou this present, knowing that you will value it more than all that hehas"; and carefully unfolding a napkin, he laid with reverence upon thetable a little red cardboard box. The mere look of the box told the sixmen what the present was even before Luffe lifted the lid. It was a boxof fifty gold-tipped cigarettes, and applause greeted their appearance.

  "If he could only have a son every day," said Lynes, and in the laughwhich followed upon the words Luffe alone did not join. He leaned hisforehead upon his hand and sat in a moody silence. Then he turned towardsthe servant and bade him thank his master.

  "I will come myself to offer our congratulations after dinner if hisHighness will receive me," said Luffe.

  The box of cigarettes went round the table. Each man took one, lightedit, and inhaled the smoke silently and very slowly. The garrison had runout of tobacco a week before. Now it had come to them welcome as a giftfrom Heaven. The moment was one of which the perfect enjoyment was not tobe marred by any speech. Only a grunt of satisfaction or a deep sigh ofpleasure was now and then to be heard, as the smoke curled upwards fromthe little paper sticks. Each man competed with his neighbour in theslowness of his respiration, each man wanted to be the last to lay downhis cigarette and go about his work. And then the Doctor said in awhisper to Major Dewes:

  "That's bad. Look!"

  Luffe, a mighty smoker in his days of health, had let his cigarette goout, had laid it half-consumed upon the edge of his plate. But it seemedthat ill-health was not all to blame. He had the look of one who hadforgotten his company. He was withdrawn amongst his own speculations, andhis eyes looked out beyond that smoke-laden room in a fort amongst theHimalaya mountains into future years dim with peril and trouble.

  "There is no moon," he said at length. "We can get some exerciseto-night"; and he rose from the table and ascended a little staircase onto the flat roof of the fort. Major Dewes and the three other officersgot up and went about their business. Dr. Bodley, the surgeon, aloneremained seated. He waited until the tramp of his companions' feet haddied away, and then he drew from his pock
et a briarwood pipe, which hepolished lovingly. He walked round the table and, collecting the ends ofthe cigarettes, pressed them into the bowl of the pipe.

  "Thank Heavens I am not an executive officer," he said, as he lighted hispipe and settled himself again comfortably in his chair. It should bementioned, perhaps, that he not only doctored and operated on the sickand wounded, but he kept the stores, and when any fighting was to bedone, took a rifle and filled any place which might be vacant in thefiring-line.

  "There are now forty-four cigarettes," he reflected. "At six a day theywill last a week. In a week something will have happened. Either therelieving force will be here, or--yes, decidedly something will havehappened." And as he blew the smoke out from between his lips he addedsolemnly: "If not to us, to the Political Officer."

  Meanwhile Luffe paced the roof of the fort in the darkness. The fort wasbuilt in the bend of a swift, wide river, and so far as three sides wereconcerned was securely placed. For on three the low precipitous cliffsoverhung the tumbling water. On the fourth, however, the fertile plain ofthe valley stretched open and flat up to the very gates.

  In front of the forts a line of sangars extended, the position of eachbeing marked even now by a glare of light above it, which struck up fromthe fire which the insurgents had lit behind the walls of stone. And fromone and another of the sangars the monotonous beat of a tom-tom came toLuffe's ears.

  Luffe walked up and down for a time upon the roof. There was a new sangarto-night, close to the North Tower, which had not existed yesterday.Moreover, the almond trees in the garden just outside the western wallwere in blossom, and the leaves upon the branches were as a screen, whereonly the bare trunks showed a fortnight ago.

  But with these matters Luffe was not at this moment concerned. Theyhelped the enemy, they made the defence more arduous, but they weretrivial in his thoughts. Indeed, the siege itself was to him anunimportant thing. Even if the fortress fell, even if every man withinperished by the sword--why, as Lynes had said, the Sirkar does not forgetits servants. The relieving force might march in too late, but it wouldmarch in. Men would die, a few families in England would wear mourning,the Government would lose a handful of faithful servants. England wouldthrill with pride and anger, and the rebellion would end as rebellionsalways ended.

  Luffe was troubled for quite another cause. He went down from the roof,walked by courtyard and winding passage to the quarters of the Khan. Awhite-robed servant waited for him at the bottom of a broad staircase ina room given up to lumber. A broken bicycle caught Luffe's eye. On theledge of a window stood a photographic camera. Luffe mounted the stairsand was ushered into the Khan's presence. He bowed with deference andcongratulated the Khan upon the birth of his heir.

  "I have been thinking," said the Khan--"ever since my son was born I havebeen thinking. I have been a good friend to the English. I am theirfriend and servant. News has come to me of their cities and colleges. Iwill send my son to England, that he may learn your wisdom, and so returnto rule over his kingdom. Much good will come of it." Luffe had expectedthe words. The young Khan had a passion for things English. The bicycleand the camera were signs of it. Unwise men had applauded hisenlightenment. Unwise at all events in Luffe's opinion. It was, indeed,greatly because of his enlightenment that he and a handful of Englishofficers and troops were beleaguered in the fortress.

  "He shall go to Eton and to Oxford, and much good for my people will comeof it," said the Khan. Luffe listened gravely and politely; but he wasthinking of an evening when he had taken out to supper a reigning queenof comic opera. The recollection of that evening remained with him whenhe ascended once more to the roof of the fort and saw the light of thefires above the sangars. A voice spoke at his elbow. "There is a newsangar being built in the garden. We can hear them at work," said Dewes.

  Luffe walked cautiously along the roof to the western end. Quite clearlythey could hear the spades at work, very near to the wall, amongst thealmond and the mulberry trees.

  "Get a fireball," said Luffe in a whisper, "and send up a dozen Sikhs."

  On the parapet of the roof a rough palisade of planks had been erected toprotect the defenders from the riflemen in the valley and across theriver. Behind this palisade the Sikhs crept silently to their positions.A ball made of pinewood chips and straw, packed into a covering ofcanvas, was brought on to the roof and saturated with kerosene oil. "Areyou ready?" said Luffe; "then now!" Upon the word the fireball was litand thrown far out. It circled through the air, dropped, and lay blazingupon the ground. By its light under the branches of the garden treescould be seen the Pathans building a stone sangar, within thirty yards ofthe fort's walls.

  "Fire!" cried Luffe. "Choose your men and fire."

  All at once the silence of the night was torn by the rattle of musketry,and afar off the tom-toms beat yet more loudly.

  Luffe looked on with every faculty alert. He saw with a smile that theDoctor had joined them and lay behind a plank, firing rapidly and with amost accurate aim. But at the back of his mind all the while that hegave his orders was still the thought, "All this is nothing. The onefateful thing is the birth of a son to the Khan of Chiltistan." Thelittle engagement lasted for about half an hour. The insurgents thendrew back from the garden, leaving their dead upon the field. The rattleof the musketry ceased altogether. Behind the parapet one Sikh had beenbadly wounded by a bullet in the thigh. Already the Doctor was attendingto his hurts.

  "It is a small thing, Huzoor," said the wounded soldier, looking upwardsto Luffe, who stood above him; "a very small thing," but even as he spokepain cut the words short.

  "Yes, a small thing"; Luffe did not speak the words, but he thought them.He turned away and walked back again across the roof. The new sangarwould not be built that night. But it was a small thing compared with allthat lay hidden in the future.

  As he paced that side of the fort which faced the plain there rosethrough the darkness, almost beneath his feet, once more the cry whichhad reached his ears while he sat at dinner in the courtyard.

  He heard a few paces from him the sharp order to retire given by asentinel. But the voice rose again, claiming admission to the fort, andthis time a name was uttered urgently, an English name.

  "Don't fire," cried Luffe to the sentinel, and he leaned over the wall.

  "You come from Wafadar Nazim, and alone?"

  "Huzoor, my life be on it."

  "With news of Sahib Linforth?"

  "Yes, news which his Highness Wafadar Nazim thinks it good for you toknow"; and the voice in the darkness rose to insolence.

  Luffe strained his eyes downwards. He could see nothing. He listened, buthe could hear no whispering voices. He hesitated. He was very anxious tohear news of Linforth.

  "I will let you in," he cried; "but if there be more than one the livesof all shall be the price."

  He went down into the fort. Under his orders Captain Lynes drew up insidethe gate a strong guard of Sikhs with their rifles loaded and bayonetsfixed. A few lanterns threw a dim light upon the scene, glistening hereand there upon the polish of an accoutrement or a rifle-barrel.

  "Present," whispered Lynes, and the rifles were raised to the shoulder,with every muzzle pointing towards the gate.

  Then Lynes himself went forward, removed the bars, and turned the key inthe lock. The gate swung open noiselessly a little way, and a tall man,clad in white flowing robes, with a deeply pock-marked face and a hookednose, walked majestically in. He stood quite still while the gate wasbarred again behind him, and looked calmly about him with inquisitivebright eyes.

  "Will you follow me?" said Luffe, and he led the way through therabbit-warren of narrow alleys into the centre of the fort.