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But though he spoke boldly, he had little comfort from his thoughts. The rising had been well concerted. Those who flocked to Shere Ali were not only the villagers of the Kohara valley. There were shepherds from the hills, wild men from the far corners of Chiltistan. Already the small army could be counted with the hundred for its unit. To-morrow the hundred would be a thousand.
"The message was sent from end to end of Chiltistan." "What gift?" asked Shere Ali, in genuine surprise. "Your Highness has forgotten? The melons and the bags of grain." Shere Ali was silent for a few moments. Then he said: "And how was the gift interpreted?" Ahmed Ismail smiled in the darkness. "There are wise men in Chiltistan, and they found the riddle easy to read.
It fell to Ralston to inform him in durbar in the presence of his nobles and the chief officers of the British force that the Government of India had determined to grant him a pension and a residence rent-free at Jellundur. "The Government of India will rule Chiltistan," said Ralston. "The word has been spoken."
But since he didn't since he went to Eton, and to Oxford, and ran loose in London for a year or two why, I think he is right." "How do you mean right?" asked the Colonel. "I mean that the sooner Linforth is fetched out to India and sent up to Chiltistan, the better it will be," said the Commissioner. Mr.
She walked slowly towards the door, with Shere Ali at her side. "And you will stay in Chiltistan until you come back to us?" she asked. "You won't go down to Calcutta at Christmas, for instance? Calcutta is the place to which people go at Christmas, isn't it? I think you are right. You have a career in your own country, amongst your own people." She spoke urgently.
There was always that glare of menacing light over the hill-districts of India as above the crater of Stromboli, now contracting, now expanding and casting its molten stream down towards the plains. At the moment when Linforth watched the crown of light above Stromboli, the glare was widening over the hill country of Chiltistan.
But that did not matter. The young Prince would point out the Englishwoman in the Maidan and, at a later time when all was ready in Chiltistan, a fine and obvious attempt should be made to carry her off. The pretence might, if occasion served, become a reality, to be sure, but the attempt must be as public as possible. There must be no doubt as to its author.
And in a house at the foot of the Sussex Downs Linforth's young wife leaned over the cot of her child with the tears streaming from her eyes, and thought of the road with no less horror than the people of Chiltistan. Meanwhile the great men in Calcutta began to mobilise a field force at Nowshera, and all official India said uneasily, "Thank Heaven, Luffe's on the spot."
I should be very glad of it. For I am troubled by your unhappiness." But Shere Ali shook his head. "I have been in Chiltistan since I spoke those words. And they will not let me help." "There's the road." "It must not be continued." "There is, at all events, your father," Violet suggested. "You can help him." And again Shere Ali laughed. But this time the bitterness had gone from his voice.
Only the watchmen remained at their posts about the Residency grounds. The campaign which Shere Ali directed on the borders of Chiltistan is now matter of history, and may be read of, by whoso wills, in the Blue-books and despatches of the time. Those documents, with their paragraphs and diaries and bare records of facts, have a dry-as-dust look about them which their contents very often belie.
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