The Elephant God
CHAPTER VII
IN THE RAJAH'S PALACE
A rambling, many-storied building, a jumbled mass of no particular designor style of architecture, with blue-washed walls and close-latticedwindows, an insanitary rabbit-warren of intricate passages, unexpectedcourtyards, hidden gardens, and crazy tenements kennelling a small army ofservants, retainers, and indefinable hangers-on--such was the palace of theRajah of Lalpuri. Here and there, by carved doors or iron-studded gateshalf off their hinges, lounged purposeless sentries, barefooted, clad inold and dirty red coatees, white cross-belts and ragged blue trousers. Theyleant on rusty, muzzle-loading muskets purchased from "John Company" inpre-Mutiny years, and their uniforms were modelled on those worn by theCompany's native troops before the days of Chillianwallah.
The outer courtyard swarmed with a mob of beggars, panders, traders,servants, and idlers, through which occasionally a ramshackle carriagedrawn by galled ponies, their broken harness tied with rope, and conveyingsome Palace official, made its way with difficulty. Sometimes the vehiclewas closely shuttered or shrouded with white cotton sheets and containedsome high-caste lady or brazen, jewel-decked wanton of the Court.
On one side were the tumble-down stables, near which a squealing whitestallion with long, red-dyed tail was tied to a _peepul_ tree. Its rider, ablue-coated _sowar_, or cavalryman, with bare feet thrust into heellessnative slippers, sat on the ground near it smoking a hubble-bubble. Achorus of neighing answered his screaming horse from the filthy stalls,outside which stood foul-smelling manure-heaps, around which mangy pariahdogs nosed. In the blazing sun a couple of hooded hunting-cheetahs laypanting on the bullock-cart to which they were chained.
The Palace stood in the heart of the city of Lalpuri, a maze of narrow,malodorous streets off which ran still narrower and fouler lanes. Thegaudily-painted houses, many stories high, with wooden balconies andprojecting windows, were interspersed with ruinous palm-thatched bamboohuts and grotesquely decorated temples filled with fat priests and hideous,ochre-daubed gods, and noisy with the incessant blare of conch shells andthe jangling of bells. Lalpuri was a byword throughout India and was knownto its contemptuous neighbours as the City of Harlots and Thieves. Poverty,debauchery, and crime were rife. Justice was a mockery; corruption andabuses flourished everywhere. A just magistrate or an honourable officialwas as hard to find as an honest citizen or a virtuous woman.
Like people, like rulers. The State had been founded by a Mahrattafree-booter in the days when the Pindaris swept across Hindustan fromPoona almost to Calcutta. His successor at the time of the Mutiny was aclever rascal, who refused to commit himself openly against the Britishwhile secretly protesting his devotion to their enemies. He balancedhimself adroitly on the fence until it was evident which side wouldprove victorious. When Delhi fell and the mutineers were scattered, heoffered a refuge in his palace to certain rebel princes and leaderswho were fleeing with their treasures and loot to Burmah. But thetreacherous scoundrel seized the money and valuables and handed theowners over to the Government of India.
The present occupant of the _gadi_--which is the Hindustani equivalent of athrone--was far from being an improvement on his predecessors. He exceededthem in viciousness, though much their inferior in ability. As a rule theIndian reigning princes of today--and especially those educated at thesplendid Rajkumar College, or Princes' School--are an honour to their highlineage and the races from which they spring. In peace they devotethemselves to the welfare of their subjects, and in war many of them havefought gallantly for the Empire and all have given their treasures or theirtroops loyally and generously to their King-Emperor.
The Rajah of Lalpuri was an exception--and a bad one. Although not thirtyyears of age he had plumbed the lowest depths of vice and debauchery.Cruelty and treachery were his most marked characteristics, lust and liquorhis ruling passions.
Of Mahratta descent he was of course a Hindu. While in drunken momentsprofessing himself an atheist and blaspheming the gods, yet whensuffering from illness caused by his excesses he was a prey tosuperstitious fears and as wax in the hands of his Brahmin priests.Although his territory was small and unimportant, yet the ownership ofa Bengal coalfield and the judicious investment by his father of thetreasure stolen from the rebel princes in profitable Western enterprisesensured him an income greater than that enjoyed by many far moreimportant maharajahs. But his revenue was never sufficient for hisneeds, and he ground down his wretched subjects with oppressive taxesto furnish him with still more money to waste in his vices. All menmarvelled that the Government of India allowed such a debauchee andwastrel to remain on the _gadi_. But it is a long-suffering Governmentand loth to interfere with the rulers of the native states. However,matters were fast reaching a crisis when the Viceroy and his adviserswould be forced to consider whether they should allow this degenerate tocontinue to misgovern his State. This the Rajah realised, and it filledhim with feelings of hostility and disloyalty to the Suzerain Power.
But the real ruler of Lalpuri State was the _Dewan_ or Prime Minister, aclever, ambitious, and unscrupulous Bengali Brahmin, endowed with all thetalent for intrigue and chicanery of his race and caste as well as withtheir hatred of the British. He had persuaded himself that the Englishdominion in India was coming to an end and was ready to do all in his powerto hasten the event. For he secretly nourished the design of deposing theRajah and making himself the nominal as well as the virtual ruler of theState, and he knew that the British would not permit this. His was thebrain that had conceived the project of uniting the disloyal elements ofBengal with the foreign foes of the Government of India, and he was theleader of the disaffected and the chief of the conspirators.
When Chunerbutty arrived in Lalpuri he rode with difficulty through thecrowded, narrow streets. His sun-helmet and European dress earned himhostile glances and open insults, and more than one foul gibe was hurled athim as he went along by some who imagined him from his dark face andEnglish clothes to be a half-caste. For the native, however humble, hatesand despises the man of mixed breed.
When he reached the Palace he made his way through the throng of beggars,touts, and hangers-on in the outer courtyard, and, passing the sentries,all of whom recognised him, entered the building. Through the maze ofpassages and courts he penetrated to the room occupied by his father invirtue of his appointment in the Rajah's service.
He found the old man sitting cross-legged on a mat in the dirty, almostbare apartment. He was chewing betel-nut and spitting the red juice into apot. He looked up as his son entered.
Among the other out-of-date customs and silly superstitions that theyounger Chunerbutty boasted of having freed himself from, were therespect and regard due to parents--usually deep-rooted in all races ofIndia, and indeed of the East generally. So without any salutation orgreeting he sat down on the one ricketty chair that the room contained,and said ill-temperedly:
"Here I am, having ridden miles in the heat and endured discomfort forsome absurd whim of thine. Why didst thou send for me? I told thee neverto do so unless the matter were very important. I had to eat abuse fromthat drunken Welshman to get permission to come. I had to swear thatthou wert on the point of death. Then he consented, but only because, ashe said, I might catch thy illness and die too. May jackals dig him fromhis grave and devour his corpse!"
As the father and son sat confronting each other the contrast between themwas significant of the old Bengal and the new. The silly, light-mindedgirls in England who had found the younger man's attractions irresistibleand raved over his dark skin and the fascinating suggestion of the Orientin him, should have seen the pair now. The son, ultra-English in hiscostume, from his sun-hat to his riding-breeches and gaiters, and the oldBengali, ridiculously like him in features, despite his shaven crown withone oiled scalp-lock, his bulbous nose and flabby cheeks, and teeth stainedred by betel-chewing. On his forehead were painted three white horizontalstrokes, the mark of the worshippers of Siva the Destroyer. His onlygarment was a dirty old _dhoti_ tied round his fa
t, naked paunch.
He grinned at his son's ill-temper and replied briefly:
"The Rajah wishes to see thee, son."
"Why? Is there anything new?"
"I do not know. Thou art angry at being torn from the side of the Englishgirl. Art thou to marry her? Why not be satisfied to wed one of thine owncountrywomen?"
The younger man spat contemptuously.
"I would not be content with a fat Hindu cow after having known Englishgirls. Thou shouldest see those of London, old man. How they love us ofdark skin and believe our tales that we are Indian princes!"
The father leered unpleasantly.
"Thou hast often told me that these white women are shameless. Is itneedful to pay the price of marriage to possess this one?"
"I want her, if only to anger the white men among whom I live," replied hisson sullenly. "Like all the English out here they hate to see their womenmarry us black men."
"There is a white man in the Palace who is not like that."
"A white man in the Palace?" echoed his son. "Who is he? What does hehere?"
"A Parliamentary-_wallah_, who is visiting India and will go back to tellthe English monkeys in his country what we are not. He comes here withletters from the _Lat Sahib_."
"From the Viceroy?"
"Yes; thou knowest that any fool from their Parliament holds a whip overthe back of the _Lat Sahib_ and all the white men in this land. This onehath no love for his own country."
"How knowest thou that?"
"Because the _Dewan Sahib_ loves him. Any foe of England is as welcome tothe _Dewan_ as the monsoon rain to the _ryot_ whose crops are dying ofdrought. Thou wilt see this one, for he is ever with the _Dewan_, who hasordered that thou goest to him before seeing the Rajah.
"Ordered? I am sick of his orders," replied the son, petulantly. "Am I hisdog that he should order me? I am not a Lalpuri now. I am a Britishsubject."
"Thy father eats the Rajah's salt. Thou forgettest that the _Dewan_ foundthe money to send thee across the Black Water to learn thy trade."
The younger man frowned discontentedly.
"Well, I see not the colour of his money now. Why should I obey him? I willnot."
"Softly, softly, son. There be many knives in the bazaars of the city thatwill seek out any man's heart at the _Dewan's_ bidding. Thou art a man ofLalpuri still."
His son rose discontentedly from his chair.
"_Kali_ smite him with smallpox. I suppose it were better to see what hewants. I shall go."
Admitted to the presence of the _Dewan_, Chunerbutty's defiant mannerdropped from him, for he had always held that official in awe. His swaggervanished; he bent low and his hand went up to his head in a salaam. ThePremier of the State, a wrinkled old Brahmin, was seated on the groundpropped up by white bolsters, with a small table, a foot high, crowded withpapers in front of him. He was dressed simply and plainly in white cottongarments, a small coloured _puggri_ covering his shaved head. Althoughreputed the possessor of finer jewels than the Rajah he wore no ornaments.
Sprawling in an easy chair opposite him was a fat European in a tight whitelinen suit buttoned up to the neck. He evidently felt the heat acutely, andwith a large coloured handkerchief he incessantly wiped his red face, downwhich the sweat rolled in oily drops, and mopped his bald head.
When Chunerbutty entered the apartment the _Dewan_, without any greetingindicated him, saying:
"This, Mr. Macgregor, is an example of what all we Indians shall be whenrelieved of the tyranny of British officials and allowed to governourselves."
His English was perfect.
The bearer of the historic Highland name, whose appearance suggested rathera Hebrew patronymic, removed from his mouth the cigar that he was smokingand asked in a guttural voice:
"Who is the young man?"
The _Dewan_ briefly explained, then, turning to Chunerbutty, he said:
"This is Mr. Donald Macgregor, M.P., a member of the Labour Party and atrue friend of India. You may speak freely before him. Sit down."
The engineer looked around in vain for another chair. The _Dewan_ saidsharply in Bengali, using the familiar, and in this case contemptuous,"thou":
"Sit on the floor, as thy fathers before thee have done, as thou didstthyself before thou began to think thyself an Englishman and despise thycountry and its ways."
Chunerbutty collapsed and sat down hastily on a mat. Then in English the_Dewan_ continued:
"Have you any news?"
"No; I have forwarded as they came all letters and messengers from Bhutan.The troops--" He stopped and looked at the Member of Parliament.
"Continue. There is no need of secrecy before Mr. Macgregor," said the_Dewan_. "I have said that he is a friend of India."
"It's all right, my boy," added the Hebrew Highlander encouragingly. "I ama Pacifist and a socialist. I don't hold with soldiers or with keepingcoloured races enslaved. 'England for English and India for the Indians' ismy motto."
"Well, I have already informed you that there is no truth in the reportsthat troops were to be sent again to Buxa Duar," said Chunerbutty,reassured. "On the frontier there are only the two hundred Military Policeat Ranga Duar. They are Punjaubi Mohammedans. I made the acquaintance ofthe officer commanding them last night."
"Ah! What is he like?" enquired the _Dewan_, interested.
"Inquisitive, but a fool--like all these officers," replied the engineercontemptuously. "He noticed Narain Dass on our garden and saw that he was aBengali. He learned that others of us were employed on our estate and wassurprised that Brahmins should do coolie work. But he suspected nothing."
"You are sure?" asked the _Dewan_.
"Quite certain."
The _Dewan_ shook his head doubtfully.
"These English officers are not always the fools they seem," he observed."We must keep an eye on this inquisitive person. Now, how goes the workamong the garden coolies? Are they ripe for revolt?"
"Not yet on all the estates. They are ignorant cattle, and to them theMotherland means nothing. But on our garden our greatest helper is themanager, a drunken bully. He ill-treats the coolies and nearly kicked oneto death the other day."
"That's how the Englishman always treats the native, isn't it?" asked theHebrew representative of an English constituency.
"Always and everywhere," replied the engineer unhesitatingly, wondering ifMacgregor were really fool enough to believe the libel, which one day'sexperience in India should have shown him to be false. But this foreign Jewturned Scotchman hated the country of his adoption, as only these gentrydo, and was ready to believe any lie against it and eager to do all in hispower to injure it.
The _Dewan_ said:
"Mr. Macgregor has been sent to tell us that his party pledges itself tohelp us in Parliament."
"Yes, you need have no fear. We'll see that justice is done you," began thepolitician in his best tub-thumping manner. "We Socialists and Communistsare determined to put an end to tyranny and oppression, whether of thedowntrodden slaves of Capitalism at home or our coloured brothers abroad.The British working-man wants no colonies, no India. He is determined tochange everything in England and do away with all above him--kings, lords,aristocrats, and the _bourgeoisie_. He demands Revolution, and we'll giveit him."
"Pardon me, Mr. Macgregor," remarked the engineer. "I've lived amongBritish working-men, when I was in the shops, but I never found that theywanted revolution."
The Member of Parliament looked at him steadily for a moment and grinned.
"You're no fool, Mr. Chunerbutty. You're a lad after my own heart. You knowa thing or two. Perhaps you're right. But the British working-man lets usrepresent him, and we know what's good for him, if he don't. We Socialistsrun the Labour Party, and I promise you we'll back you up in Parliament ifyou rebel and drive the English out of India."
"We shall do it, Mr. Macgregor," said the _Dewan_, confidently, "We areco-ordinating all the organisations in the Punjaub, Bombay, and Bengal,and we shall strike simul
taneously. Afghan help has been promised, andthe Pathan tribesmen will follow the Amir's regiments into India. As Itold you, the Chinese and Bhutanese invasion is certain, and there areneither troops nor fortifications along this frontier to stop it."
"That's right. You'll do it," said Macgregor. "The General Electioncomes off in a few months, and our party is sure of victory. I amauthorised to assure you that our first act will be to give Indiaabsolute independence. So you can do what you like. But don't kill thewhite women and children--at least, not openly. They might not like itin England, though personally I don't care if you massacre every damnedBritisher in the country. From what I've seen of 'em it's only whatthey deserve. The insolence I've met with from those whipper-snapperofficers! And the civil officials would be as bad, if they dared.Then their women--I wouldn't like to say what I think of _them_."
The _Dewan_ turned to Chunerbutty.
"Go now; you have my leave. His Highness wishes to see you. I have sent himword that you are here."
The engineer rose and salaamed respectfully. Then, with a nod to Macgregor,he withdrew full of thought. He had not known before that the conspiracy toexpel the British was so widespread and promising. He had not regarded itvery seriously hitherto. But he had faith in the _Dewan_, and the pledge ofthe great political party in England was reassuring.
Admitted to the presence of the Rajah, Chunerbutty found him reclininglanguidly on a pile of soft cushions on the floor of a tawdrily-decoratedroom. The walls were crowded with highly-coloured chromos of Hindu gods andbadly-painted indecent pictures. A cut-glass chandelier hung from theceiling, and expensive but ill-assorted European furniture stood about theapartment. French mechanical toys under glass shades crowded the tables.
The Rajah was a fat and sensual-looking young man, with bloated face andbloodshot that eyes spoke eloquently of his excesses. On his forehead waspainted a small semicircular line above the eyebrows with a round patch inthe middle, which was the sect-mark of the _Saktas_. His white linengarments were creased and dirty, but round his neck he wore a rope ofenormous pearls. His feet were bare. On a gold tray beside him were twoliqueur bottles, one empty, the other only half full, and two or threeglasses.
He looked up vacantly as Chunerbutty entered, then, recognising him, saidpetulantly:
"Where have you been? Why did you not come before?"
The engineer salaamed and seated himself on the carpet near him withoutinvitation. He held the Rajah far less in awe than the Prime Minister, forhe had been the former's boon-companion in his debauches too often to havemuch respect for him.
He answered the prince carelessly.
"The _Dewan_ sent for me to see him before I came to you, _Maharaj Sahib_."
"Why? What for? That man thinks that he is the ruler of Lalpuri, not I,"grumbled the Rajah. "I gave orders that you were to be sent to me as soonas you arrived. I want news of the girl. Is she still there?"
"Yes; she is still there."
"Listen to me," the Rajah leant forward and tapped him on the knee. "I musthave that girl. Ever since I saw her at the _durbar_ at Jalpaiguri I havewanted her."
"Your Highness knows that it is difficult to get hold of an Englishwoman inIndia."
"I know. But I do not care. I must have her. I _will_ have her." He filleda tumbler with liqueur and sipped it. "I have sent for you to find a way.You are clever. You know the customs of these English. You have often toldme how you did as you wished with the white women in England."
"That is very different. It is easy there," and Chunerbutty smiled atpleasant memories. "There the women are shameless, and they prefer us totheir own colour. And the men are not jealous. They are proud that theirdaughters and sisters should know us."
He helped himself to the liqueur.
"Why do you not go to England?" he continued. "There every woman wouldthrow herself at your feet. They make much of the Hindu students, the sonsof fat _bunniahs_ and shopkeepers in Calcutta, because they think them allIndian princes. For you who really are one they would do anything."
The Rajah sat up furious and dashed his glass down on the tray so violentlythat it shivered to atoms.
"Go to England? Have I not tried to?" he cried. "But every time I ask, theViceroy refuses me permission. I, a rajah, the son of rajahs, must begleave like a servant from a man whose grandfather was a nobody--and berefused. May his womenkind be dishonoured! May his grave be defiled!"
He filled another glass and emptied it before continuing.
"But, I tell you, I want this girl. I must have her. You must get her forme. Can you not carry her off and bring her here? You can have all themoney you want to bribe any one. You said there are only two white men onthe garden. I will send you a hundred soldiers."
Chunerbutty looked alarmed. He had no wish to be dragged into such a madproceeding as to attempt to carry off an Englishwoman by force, and in aplace where he was well known. For the girl in question was Noreen Daleham.The Rajah had seen her a few months before at a _durbar_ or reception ofnative notables held by the Lieutenant Governor of Eastern Bengal, and beenfired with an insane and unholy passion for her.
"Your Highness, it is impossible. Quite impossible. Do you not see that allthe power of the _Sirkar_ (the Government) would be put forth to punish us?You would be deposed, and I--I would be sent to the convict settlement inthe Andaman Islands, if I were not hanged."
The Rajah abused the hated English, root and branch. But he was forced toadmit that Chunerbutty was right. Open violence would ruin them.
He sank back on the cushions, exhausted by his fit of anger. Draining hisglass he filled it up again. Then he clapped his hands. A servant enterednoiselessly on bare feet, bringing two full bottles of liqueur and freshtumblers. There was little difficulty in anticipating His Highness'srequirements. The _khitmagar_ removed the empty bottles and the brokenglass and left the apartment.
The Rajah drank again. The strong liqueur seemed to have no effect on him.Then he said:
"Well, find a plan yourself. But I must get the girl."
Chunerbutty pretended to think. Then he began to expose tentatively, as ifit were an idea just come to him, a plan that he had conceived weeksbefore.
"_Maharaj Sahib_, if I could make the girl my wife--"
The Rajah half rose up and spluttered out furiously:
"You dog, wouldst thou dare to rival me, to interfere between me and mydesires?"
The engineer hastened to pacify the angry man.
"No, no, Your Highness. You misunderstand me. Surely you know that you cantrust me. What I mean is that, if I married her, she would have to obey me,and--" he smiled insinuatingly and significantly--"I am a loyal subject ofYour Highness."
The fat debauchee stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Thenunderstanding dawned, and his bloated face creased into a lascivious smile.
"I see. I see. Then marry her," he said, sinking back on the cushions.
"Your Highness forgets that the salary they pay a tea-garden engineer isnot enough to tempt a girl to marry him nor support them if she did."
"That is true," replied the Rajah thoughtfully. He was silent for a little,and then he said:
"I will give you an appointment here in the Palace with a salary of a_lakh_ of rupees a year."
Chunerbutty's eyes glistened. A _lakh_ is a hundred thousand, and at parfifteen rupees went to an English sovereign.
"Thank you, Your Highness," he said eagerly.
The Rajah held up a fat forefinger warningly.
"But not until you have married her," he said.
Chunerbutty smiled confidently. Much as he had seen of Noreen Daleham heyet knew her so little as to believe that the prospect of such an income,joined to the favour in which he believed she held him, would make it aneasy matter to win her consent.
He imagined himself to be in love with the girl, but it was in theOriental's way--that is, it was merely a matter of sensual desire. Althoughas jealous as Eastern men are in sex questions, the prospect of the moneyq
uite reconciled him to the idea of sharing his wife with another. Hisfancy flew ahead to the time, which he knew to be inevitable, whenpossession would have killed passion and the money would bring new, and somore welcome, women to his arms. The Rajah would only too readily permit,nay encourage him to go to Europe--alone. And he gloated over the thoughtof being again in London, but this time with much money at his command.What was any one woman compared with fifty, with a hundred, others ready toreplace her?
So he calmly discussed with the Rajah the manner of carrying out theirnefarious scheme; and His Highness, to show his appreciation, invited himto share his orgies that night. And in the smiles and embraces of aKashmiri wanton, Chunerbutty forgot the English girl.