London had spoken direct to the Board of Control, without avail.
'Well,' says I, 'this is a little different, highness, don't you see? His lordship felt that if I heard from you at ftorst-hand, so to speak, and we talked —'
'There is nothing to talk about,' says she. 'What can I say that has not been said — that the Sirkar does not know? What can you —'
'I can ask, maharaj', what actions by the Sirkar, short of removing from Jhansi and recognising your adopted son, would satisfy your grievances — or go some way to satisfying them.'
She came up on one elbow at that, frowning at me with those magnificent eyes. For what I was hinting at — without the least authority, mind you — was concessions, and devil a smell of those she'd had in four years.
'Why,' says she, thoughtfully. 'They know well enough. They have been told my grievances, my just demands, for four years now. And yet they have denied me. How can repetition serve?'
'A disappointed client may find a new advocate,' says I, with my most disarming smile, and she gave me a long stare, and then got up and walked over to the balustrade, looking out across the city. 'If your highness would speak your mind to me, openly —'
'Wait,' says she, and stood for a moment, frowning, before she turned back to me. She couldn't think what to make of this, she was suspicious, and didn't dare to hope, and yet she was wondering. God, she was a black beauty, sure enough — if I'd been the Sirkar, she could have had Jhansi and a pound of tea with it, just for half an hour on the daybed.
'If Lord Palmerston,' says she at last — and old Pam himself would have been tempted to restore her throne just to hear the pretty way she said 'Lud Pammer-stan' —'wishes me to restate the wrongs that have been done me, it can only be because he has discovered some interest to serve by redressing them — or promising redress. I do not know what that interest is, and you will not tell me. It is no charitable desire to set right injustices done to my Jhansi ' and she lifted her head proudly. 'That is certain. But if he wishes my friendship, for whatever purpose of his own, he may give an earnest of his good will by restoring the revenues which should have come to me since my husband's death, but which the Sirkar has confiscated.' She stopped there, chin up, challenging, so I said:
'And after that, highness? What else?'
'Will he concede as much? Will the Company?'
'I can't say,' says I. 'But if a strong case can be made — when I report to Lord Palmerston …'
'And you will put the case, yourself?'
'That is my mission, maharaj'.'
'And such other … cases … as I may advance?' She looked the question, and there was just a hint of a smile on her mouth. 'So. And I must first put them to you — and no doubt you will suggest to me how they may best be phrased … or modified. You will advise, and … persuade?'
'Well,' says I, 'I'll help your highness as I can …'
To my astonishment she laughed, with a flash of white teeth, her head back, and shaking most delightfully.
'Oh, the subtlety of the British!' cries she. 'Such delicacy, like an elephant in a swamp! Lord Palmerston wishes, for his own mysterious reasons of policy, to placate the Rani of Jhansi. So he invites her to repeat the petition which has been repeatedly denied for years. But does he send a lawyer, or an advocate, or even an official of the Company? No — just a simple soldier, who will discuss the petition with her, and how it may best be presented to his lordship. Could not a lawyer have advised her better?' She folded her hands and came slowly forward, sauntering round me. 'But how many lawyers are tall and broad-shouldered and … aye, quite handsome — and persuasive as Flashman bahadur?*(*Title of honour, champion.) Not a doubt but he is best fitted to convince a silly female that a modest claim is most likely to succeed — and she will abate her demands for him, poor foolish girl, and be less inclined to insist on fine points, and stand upon her rights. Is this not so?'
'Highness, you misunderstand entirely … I assure you —'
'Do I?' says she, scornfully, but laughing still. 'I am not sixteen, colonel; I am an old lady of twenty-nine. And I may not know Lord Palmerston's purpose, but I understand his methods. Well, well. It may not have occurred to his lordship that even a poor Indian lady may be persuasive in her turn.' And she eyed me with some amusement, confident in her own beauty, the damned minx, and the effect it was having on me. 'He paid me a poor compliment, do you not think?'
What could I do but grin back at her? 'Do his lordship justice, highness,' says I. 'He'd never seen you. How many have, since you are purdah-nishin?'* (*Literally, 'one who sits behind a curtain'.)
'Enough to have told him what I am like, I should have hoped. How did he instruct you — humour her, whatever she is, fair or foul, young and silly or old and ugly? Charm her, so that she keeps her demands cheap? Captivate her, as only a hero can.' She stirred an eyebrow. 'Who could resist the champion who killed the four Gilzais — where was it?'
'At Mogala, in Afghanistan — as your highness heard at the gate. Was it to test me that you had the Pathan spit on my shadow?'
'His insolence needed no instruction,' says she. 'He is now being flogged for it.' She turned away from me and sauntered back into the durbar-room. 'You may have the tongue which insulted you torn out, if you wish,' she added over her shoulder.
That brought me up sharp, I can tell you. We'd been rallying away famously, and I'd all but forgotten who and what she was — an Indian prince, with all the capricious cruelty of her kind under that lovely hide. Unless she was just mocking me with the reminder — whether or no, I would play my character.
'Not necessary, highness,' says I. 'I had forgotten him.'
She nodded, and struck a little silver gong with her wrist-bangle. 'It is time for my noon meal, and this afternoon I hold my court. You may return tomorrow, and we shall discuss the representations you are to make to the subtle Lord Palmerston.' She smiled slightly in dismissal. 'And I thank you for your gift, colonel.'
Her maids were coming in, and the little fat chamberlain, so I made my bow.
'Maharaj'', says I. 'Your most humble obedient.'
She inclined her head regally, and turned away, but as I backed out round the screen I noticed that she had picked up my perfume-bottle from the table, and was inviting her maids to have a sniff at it.
I came away from that audience thinking no small diplomatic beer of myself. At least I seemed to have got further with her than any other representative of the Sirkar had ever done, even if I'd had to lie truth out of Jhansi to do it. God knew I'd not the slightest right to promise redress of any of her grievances against the Raj, and if I trotted back a list of them to London the Board would turn 'em down flat again, no question. But she didn't know that, and if I could jolly her along for a week for two, hinting at this or that possible concession, she might grow more friendly disposed — which was what Pam wanted, after all. Her hopes would revive, and while they were sure to be dashed in the end, I'd be back snug in England by then.
That was the official aspect, of course; the important thing was the delightful surprise that the old beldam of Jhansi was as prime a goer as ever wriggled a hip, and just ripe for my kind of diplomacy. She was a cocky bitch, with a fine sense of her queenly consequence, but I wasn't fooled by her airs, or the set-down she'd tried to give me by warning me not to try to come round her with whiskery blandishments. That was pure flirtation, to put me on my mettle — I know these beauties, you see, and it don't matter whether they're queens or commoners, when they start to play the cool, mocking grand dame it's a sure sign that they're wondering what kind of a mount you'll make. I'd seen the glint in this one's eye when she walked round me, and thought quietly to myself, we'll have you gasping for more, my girl, before this fortnight's out.
You may think me a presumptuous ambassador on short notice, especially since the object of my carnal ambitions was royal, clever, dangerously powerful, and a high-caste Hindoo lady of reputed purity to boot. But that means nothing when a woman fancies a buck like me; besides, I knew about these high-born Indian wenches — randy as ferrets, the lot of them, and with all the opportunity to gratify it, too. A woman with a shape and face like Lakshmibai's hadn't let it go to waste in four years' widowhood (after being married to some prancing old quean, too), not with the stallions of her palace guard available at the crook of her little finger. Well, I'd make a rare change of bedding for her — and if her lusty inclinations needed any prompting, she might find it in the thought that being amiable to ambassador Flashy was the likeliest way of getting what she wanted for herself and her state. Dulce et decorum est pro patria rogeri, she could say to herself — and I cantered back to the cantonments full of cheery thoughts, imagining what that voluptuous tawny body would look like when I peeled the sari off it, and speculating on the novel uses to which the pair of us could put that swing of hers, in the interests of diplomatic
