Chapter XI: The Cashmere Gate

Marian turned to the nawab, and told him they accepted his hospitality with much gratitude. He seemed delighted, and led the way to the veranda, where he insisted that they should seat themselves on the cane settees and chairs of native manufacture The porter approached and made a respectful salaam, though he must have been filled with wonder to see the two Inglese before him. Like his master, he would have been eager to betray them into the power of their enemies, had he suspected their presence in the garden. He and his master must have wondered how it was the couple escaped discovery.

Addressing Marian, the nawab asked,

"Ap ko kuchh khana chaiye?" (Do you desire any food?)

She declined with thanks, saying that they only wanted rest and shelter.

"Stay under my roof, Miss sahib, as long as my poor hospitality can be endured," urged the nawab, with the effusiveness characteristic of his people.

The native, having recovered from his excessive fear, lit his hookah, offering none, however, to his infidel guest. He smoked a few minutes in silence, and then, addressing himself to Marian, asked her to be kind enough to tell how it was she and her escort were in such danger from the wicked mob. The young lady told the story in a few sentences.

When she had finished, their host, in his soft, pleasant voice, said that he had learned of the revolt at Meerut, and his heart was deeply pained. He saw that much sorrow and suffering must come, but he knew that in the end the English would subdue the rebels, who would be made to suffer for their evil deeds.

"Nor will the English fail to reward their friends," was the diplomatic observation of the young lady; "our government is as quick to recognize a friend as to punish a foe."

"That I have always known; therefore, come what may, I shall be true to the English."

The nawab, having delivered himself of this fine sentiment, summoned one of the two servants who were standing in the further corner of the veranda, where until then they had shown no more life than a couple of stone images. As the man stepped promptly forward, his master said a few words in such a low voice, that the listening Marian could not catch a syllable. She afterward believed that she did hear what was said, but it was in some dialect unintelligible to her. She thought nothing of it, however, and the servant entered the house in his stealthy, gliding fashion.

Having translated for Dr. Avery what had passed between her and the nawab, Marian turned toward him again, as if inviting him to continue the conversation.

"Where is the home of Miss sahib, who honors me with her presence?" asked the native, after taking two or three strong puffs at his hookah, which had been neglected for a few minutes.

She gave him the address, and he nodded his head.

"I know the good man--I know Mr. Jennings also. He is a missionary. I do not believe in your faith, but I am none the less your friend. A true follower of the Prophet is the enemy of no man."

These sentiments were so unusual and so inappropriate, as may be said, for a Mohammedan, that the young lady was puzzled. She could not but doubt the sincerity of a Mussulman who talked that way.

Since Dr. Avery found his ears of little account while this conversation was going on, he made good use of his eyes. Marian was talking with some animation, when through the tattie that had been pulled aside he discerned the crouching figure of a man stealing toward the entrance of the compound. He came around the corner of the house, and was evidently trying to reach the street without being seen.

The truth flashed upon the surgeon.

"That is the servant the nawab called to him and gave some order in a low voice; that order was that he should slip out of the garden and make known to the leaders of the mob that the infidels for whom they are searching are here in his house, and he will keep them until they come back and kill them."

"Marian," said he, suppressing all evidence of excitement, "if we do not leave at once, we are lost. The precious scoundrel has sent out his servant to notify the mob that we are here. Make the best excuse we can; let us go."

He rose to his feet, and Marian, instantly grasping the situation, thanked their host for his kindness, adding as an excuse for their abrupt departure that her parents would be alarmed by her long absence.

"Will not the sahib honor our home with his presence?" asked the nawab, who could not conceal his chagrin.

"Tell him," growled Avery, "that nothing would give me more pleasure than to fill his carcass with lead."

Under the pretense of translating this savage remark, the young lady repeated her thanks. Then, Marian taking the arm of her escort, the two waved their host a respectful farewell and hurried into the street.

For several minutes they did not speak, but, walking rapidly, took advantage of every turn that presented itself. Dr. Avery was sure they were watched, and not until convinced they were safely beyond all surveillance did he speak.

"Do you know where we are?"

"I have a general knowledge of the direction," she said. "If we keep on, we shall soon reach the Cashmere Gate; but we are now approaching a part of the city where we shall meet many people. To avoid attention I must walk behind you, according to the custom in this part of the world."

"Your head is level," was the admiring comment of Dr. Avery, whose spirits began to rebound from their extreme depression; "but since I don't know anything about this town, you will have to guide me. When you want me to turn to the right call out '_Haw!_' and when I am to go the other way, sing out '_Gee_.' If I travel too fast shout '_Whoa!_' and if I go too slow touch me up with anything you can lay hands on."

It need not be said that these heroic measures did not become necessary. Avery sauntered along in a natural manner. Whenever in doubt about the right course to take, he glanced behind him, and his fair guide had no difficulty in giving him the cue.

Before long, the massive city wall loomed up before them. The huge Cashmere Gate was open as usual, and crowds of people were coming in through it as well as through the Calcutta Gate and other openings, while only a few passed out. The first arrival of mutineers from Meerut was by way of the River Gate, the news of their coming reaching the cantonments about the middle of the forenoon.

Dr. Avery was making his way with care and a little trepidation through the crowd when some one touched his arm. Turning about, he was delighted to see that it was Luchman.

"Were you alarmed by our delay?" asked the surgeon.

"Follow me," said the native, without deigning a reply.

He conducted them in the direction of the cantonments, where General Graves's soldiers were posted, from which Avery judged that he had decided to trust to their protection.

Before going far, they came upon the missionary and his wife, who were in an agony of fear because of the prolonged absence of their daughter. Their joy was that of those whose beloved was dead and is alive again.

"We shall take refuge in the Flagstaff Tower," said Luchman; "the Ghoojurs are swarming into the city."

The Ghoojurs are a numerous people in the villages around Delhi, and belong to the nomadic tribes which originally occupied India. They profess agriculture, but are brigands and murderers.