Atma - A Romance

The first part of his command was already obeyed, and almost before a

protest could be uttered, Atma's arms were bound behind him and Golab

Singh's servants proceeded zealously to search his person. In silence

and with lips compressed, Bertram and his brother officers looked on

whilst he submitted to this indignity, no syllable escaping him from

the moment when he fixed his accusing gaze on his foe. But when a tiny

onyx-box of curious workmanship was produced from the folds of his

girdle, and laid before the Rajah of Kashmir, he did not repeat the

look, although on its appearance Lal uttered an exulting exclamation.

The onyx-box was all that rewarded the scrutiny of the Rajah's servants.

"Open it!" he commanded, and forthwith the fatal casket was unclosed.

Golab Singh, bending over it, inhaled the strong and subtle odour that

had nearly overcome Atma the morning he received the box from the hands

of Nama at the sacred shrine. The Maharajah turned pale, and with

difficulty recovered his breath. "Miscreant!" cried the courtiers.

Now a paper was unfolded bearing the seal and superscription of the

Maharanee Junda Kowr, the dangerous foe of the British to whom Golab

Singh owed his throne.

"An emissary of the Ranee," cried some.

"A spy," shouted others, while Golab Singh had thoughts which it would

not have been prudent to utter aloud in that mixed assemblage.

"A despatch from the Ranee withheld by this traitor for who knows what

villainous purpose!"

"He shall pay the penalty," he thundered, "before the sun rise

to-morrow. Carry him bound to a dungeon!"

Now an Englishman who stood beside him touched the prisoner on the

shoulder. His face had grown stern, and he narrowly searched Atma's

countenance as he spoke gravely but gently enough. "Have you no word to

say, Atma Singh, when you are accused of playing so base a conspirator's

part against the life of your host and of your friends?"

Then Atma spoke and proudly, "No word, Sahib, which a Sikh may utter."

Excitement prevailed and great consternation. Englishmen exchanged

glances; plots, they believed, of an unguessed extent surrounded them.

Musselmen and Sikhs looked at one another with fierce suspicion.

"Where," their faces asked, "are his accomplices?" And no look of doubt

fell on his denouncer. The Rajah's rage increased every moment, adding

to the commotion which delayed the fulfilment of his commands. To

enhance the confusion, the party of horsemen now returned. They pressed

around, hearing and giving tidings. In the tumult Bertram reached

Atma's side, but before he could speak, Atma whispered in his ear, "Meet

me in the Moslem Burying ground to-morrow night." Then with a sudden and

strong effort, swift as a bird, he freed himself from the excited

uncertain grasp that held him, and springing upon a horse he was off on

the wings of the wind. A score of men scrambled to their saddles, but

they were in confusion, and their horses were tired, whilst Atma had

mounted a fresh horse just brought forward for his own safe escort to

prison. In the disorder, he gained a few priceless moments of time, and

threading well his way between the groves that dotted the plain, he was

soon lost to view.