Atma - A Romance

"I know of no treachery to Golab Singh," replied Atma steadfastly. "As

for you, brother of my love, reflect that the dear hope, faint and

distant though it be now, of the triumph of the Khalsa need not imply

disgrace nor disaster to your people, who, unwillingly at first,

burdened themselves with the affairs of the Punjaub. The later treachery

at Mooltan has been abundantly expiated by the innocent as well as the

guilty."

He stopped abruptly, for a sound like distant sobbing broke the

stillness. They listened, but it was not repeated.

"Atma, I believe you. I can perceive your position, and how, so

unhappily, you have been able to reconcile insidious intrigue with

sentiments of honour and purity. But I have much to tell you, for I

would warn you against enemies on all sides. Rajah Lal, for some reason

your mortal foe, has convinced Golab Singh that you connived at his

death by means of the poison discovered in the casket." Here the

Englishman's eyes sought Atma's with sorrowful question in their blue

depths, but he received no other response than a frank and fearless

gaze. "He accuses you," continued Bertram, "of conspiring to rob him,

Lal Singh, of his bride," Atma started, "for it seems his betrothal was

celebrated during his recent absence from Kashmir. But I have startled

you, Atma Singh, tell me--"

A woman's scream interrupted him. It sounded near by, and both sprang

forward, when Bertram, recollecting himself, stayed his companion.

"Halt," he said, "you must remain concealed. I will go alone if we hear

more."

Another shriek rent the air, and he hastened forward, Atma proceeding

slowly in the same direction by a more circuitous way. He was stunned by

what he had just heard. It seemed to him that the shriek which had

broken into the midst of Bertram's communication had been his own, and

that it was being repeated on all sides. In reality the only sound that

now disturbed the night was the echo of his own and Bertram's footsteps,

the latter hurried and irregular for the ground was uneven.

A few moments passed and the steps ceased, and Atma standing still heard

a smothered exclamation. Another voice spoke from a distance angrily,

and, fearing for his friend, he now hastened forward rapidly, though

still cautiously. When he reached the spot, he found Bertram kneeling

beside a prostrate female form, a small and childlike figure. The veil,

torn aside, was stained with blood, and Atma's heart stood still, for

the unconscious form was that of Moti's little maid. He failed to see

Bertram's imperative gesture, motioning him back, and Bertram then spoke

in rapid though subdued accents.