moment — I was most monstrously horny with her nestling up against me — but at this she shook her head, and said we had delayed already, and must not excite suspicion. She kissed me a lingering good-bye, and told me to be patient a little longer; we must bide our time according to Rose's plan, and since her people must have no inkling of it I would have to be treated as a prisoner, but she would send for me when the time was ripe.
'And then we shall go together … with only a trusted few?' She held my face in her hands, looking down at me. And you will … protect me, and love me … when we come to the Sirkar?'
Till you're blue in the face, you darling houri, thinks I — but for answer all I did was kiss her hands. Then she straightened her veil, and fussed anxiously with her mirror before seating herself on her divan, and it was the charmingest thing to see her give me a last radiant smile and then compose her face in that icy mask, while I waited suitably hang-dog, standing in the middle of the floor at a respectful distance. She struck her little gong, which brought Sher Khan in like the village fire brigade, with chamberlain and ladies behind him.
'Confine this prisoner in the north tower,' says she, as if I were so much dross. 'He is not to be harshly used, but keep him close — your head on it, Sher Khan.'
I was bustled away forthwith — but it's my guess that Sher Khan, with that leery Pathan nose of his, guessed that all was not quite what it seemed, for he was a most solicitous jailer in the days that followed. He kept me well provisioned, bringing all my food and drink himself, seeing to it that I was comfortable as my little cell permitted, and showing me every sign of respect — mind you, in view of my Afghan reputation, that might have been natural enough.
It took me a few hours to settle down after what I had been through, but when I came to cast up the score it looked none so bad. Bar my aching joints and skinned limbs, I was well enough, and damned thankful for it. As to the future — well, I'd thought Rose's plan was just moonshine, but then I'd never dreamed that Lakshmibai was infatuated with me. Attracted, well enough — it's an odd woman that ain't, but the force of her passion had been bewildering. And yet, why not? I'd known it happen before, after all, and often as not with the same kind of women — the high-born, pampered kind who go through their young lives surrounded by men who are forever deferring and toadying, so that when a real plunger like myself comes along, and treats 'em easy, like women and not as queens, they're taken all aback. It's something new to them to have a big likely chap who ain't abashed by their grandeur, but looks 'em over with a warm eye, perfectly respectful but daring them just the same. They resent it, and like it, too, and if you can just tempt them into bed and show them what they've been missing — why, the next thing you know they're head over heels in love with you.
That's how it had been with Duchess Irma, and that wild black bitch Ranavalona in Madagascar (though she was so stark crazy it was difficult to be sure), so why not the Rani of Jhansi? After all, her only husband had been as fishy as Dick's hatband, by all accounts, and however many young stalwarts she'd whistled up since then, they wouldn't have my style. Well, it was a damned handy stroke of luck — as well as being most flattering.
As to the surrender — well, she wasn't a fool. Here was a way out for her, with more credit and safety than she could have expected, under the wing of the adored Flashy, who she imagined would protect and cherish her happy ever after.. I was all for that — for a few months, anyway, which was more than most females could expect from me. Mark you, I was famously taken with her (I still am, somehow) but I guessed I'd cool after a spell. Couldn't take her home, anyway — she'd just have to reconcile herself to waving me good-bye when the time came, like all the others.
In the meantime, I could only wait, in some excitement, for Rose to mount his assault. When a tremendous cannonading in the city broke out on the following day, with native pipes and drums squealing and thundering, I thought the attack had begun, but it was a false alarm, as Sher Khan informed me later. It seemed that Tantia Tope had suddenly hove in sight with a rebel army twenty thousand strong, to try to relieve Jhansi; Rose, cool as a trout as usual, had left his heavy artillery and cavalry to continue the siege, and had turned with the rest of his force and thrashed Tantia handsomely on the Betwa river, a few miles away. At the same time he'd ordered a diversionary attack on Jhansi to keep the defenders from sallying out to help Tantia; that had been the noise I'd heard.45
'So much for our stout-hearted mutineers in Jhansi,' sneers Sher Khan. 'If they had sallied out, your army might have been caught like a nut between two stones, but they contented themselves with howling and burning powder.' He spat. 'Let the Sirkar eat them, and welcome.'
I reminded him he was on the rebel side, and that it would be short shrift for mutineers when Jhansi fell.
'I am no mutineer,' says he, 'but a paid soldier of the Rani. I have eaten her salt and fight for her like the Yusufzai I am — even as I fought for the Sirkar in the Guides. The sahibs know the difference between a rebel and a soldier who keeps faith; they will treat me with honour — if I live,' he added carelessly. He was another Ilderim, in his way — shorter and uglier, with a smashed nose and pocked face, but a slap-up Pathan Khyberie, every inch.
'With any luck they will have hanged thy Ruski friend by now,' he went on, grinning. 'He rode out to join Tantia in the night, and has not returned. Is that good news, Iflass-man husoor?'
Wasn't it just, though? Of course, Ignatieff would have been daft to stay in Jhansi — we'd have hanged him high enough for the foreign spy he was. He'd be off to assist the leading rebels in the field; I felt all the better for knowing he was out of distance, but I doubted if he'd allow himself to be killed or taken — he was too downy a bird for that.
With Tantia whipped, it seemed to me Rose would lose no further time assaulting Jhansi, but another day and night passed in which I waited and fretted, and still there was nothing but the distant thump of cannon-fire to disturb my cell. It wasn't till the third night that the deuce of a bombardment broke out, in the small hours, and lasted until almost dawn, and then I heard what I'd been waiting for — the crash of volley-firing that signified British infantry, and the sound of explosions within the town itself, and even distant bugle calls.
'They are in the city,' says Sher Khan, when he brought my breakfast. 'The mutineers are fighting better than I thought, and it is hot work in the streets, they say.' He grinned cheerfully and tapped the hilt of his Khyber knife. 'Will her highness order me to cut thy throat when the last attack goes home, think ye? Eat well, husoor,' and the brute swaggered out, chuckling
Plainly she hadn't confided her intentions to him. I guessed she'd wait for nightfall and then make her run; by that time our fellows would be thumping at the gates of the fort itself. So I contained myself, listened to the crackle of firing and explosion, drawing always nearer, until by nightfall it seemed to be only a few hundred yards off — I was chewing my nails by then, I may tell you. But the dark came, and still the sound of battle went on, and I could even hear what I thought were English voices shouting in the distance, among the yells and shrieks. Through the one high window of my cell the night-sky was glaring red — Jhansi was dying hard, by the look of it.
I don't know what time it was when I heard the sudden rattle of the bolt in my cell-door, and Sher Khan and two of guardsmen came in, carrying torches. They didn't stand on ceremony, but hustled me out, and down narrow stone stairs and passages to a little courtyard. The moon wasn't up yet, but it was light enough, with the red glare above the walls, and the air was heavy with powder-smoke and the drift of burning; the crashing of musketry was close outside the fort now.
The yard seemed to be full of red-coated troopers of the Rani's guard, and over by a narrow gateway I saw a slim figure mounted on a white horse which I recognised at once as Lakshmibai. There were mounted guardsmen with her, and a couple of her ladies, also mounted, and heavily veiled; one of the mounted men had a child perched on his saddle-bow: Damodar, her stepson. I was about to call out, but to my astonishment Sher Kahn suddenly stooped beside me, there was a metallic snap, and he had a fetter clasped round my left leg. Before I could even protest, he was thrusting me towards a horse, snarling: 'Up, husoor!' and I was no sooner in the saddle than he had passed a short ha in from my fetter under the beast's belly, and secured my other ankle, so that I was effectively shackled to the pony.
'What the hell's this?' I cried, and he chuckled as he swung aboard a horse beside me.
'Heavy spurs, husoor!' says he. 'Peace! — it is by her order, and doubtless for your own safety. Follow!' And he shook my bridle, urging me across the square; the little party by the gate were already passing out of sight, and a moment later we were riding single file down a steep alleyway, with towering walls either side, Sher Khan just ahead of me and another Pathan immediately behind.
I couldn't think what to make of this, until it dawned on me that she wouldn't have let her entourage into the whole secret — they would know she was escaping, but not that she intended to give herself up to the British. So for form's sake I must appear to be a prisoner still. I wished she'd given me the chance of a secret word
