•V. 
 
 THE 
 SILVER HAND 
 
 ELIZA F. POLLARD
 
 The Silver Hand
 
 BLACKIE & SON LIMITED 
 
 50 Old Bailey, London 
 17 Stanhope Street, Glasgow 
 
 BLACKIE & SON (INDIA) LIMITED 
 Warwick House, Fort Street, Bombay 
 
 BLACKIE & SON (CANADA) LIMITED 
 1 1 18 Bay Street, Toronto
 
 
 SHE LED Till: WAV TO WHERE LAY A CHILD SLEEPING 
 
 Page 21 F i ontispicce
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 A Story of India in the 
 Eighteenth Century 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZA F. POLLARD 
 
 Author of "The Queen's Favourite" 
 
 "With Gordon at Khartum" "The Doctor's Niece" 
 
 "The Lady Isobel " &c. 
 
 Illustrated by William Rainey, R.I. 
 
 BLACKIE & SON LIMITED 
 
 LONDON AND GLASGOW
 
 Printed in Great Britain by 
 Blackie & Son, Limited, Glasgow
 
 Contents 
 
 5~ 
 
 5"'8? 
 
 Chap. Page 
 
 I. Broken Links 9 
 
 II. Adrift 20 
 
 III. An Indian Princess 34 
 
 IV. Under a Cloud 44 
 
 V. The Great Monsoon 56 
 
 VI. Life or Death? 70 
 
 VII. Out of Evil cometh Good 79 
 
 VIII. The Silver Lining 92 
 
 IX. The Awakening 102 
 
 X. Hyder Ali 114 
 
 XL On the Warpath 127 
 
 XII. First Experiences 139 
 
 XIII. In Memoriam 1^4 
 
 XIV. "Suffer the Little Children" - - - 164 
 XV. The Silver Hand 172 
 
 XVI. A Prophecy Fulfilled 182 
 
 XVII. A Surprise igi 
 
 XVIII. Coi'.vr Raymond 206 
 
 XIX. In the Jungle 219 
 
 XX. Untrained 227 
 
 XXI. A Caged Bird 234 
 
 XXTI. Her Hero 242 
 
 5
 
 Illustrations 
 
 Facing 
 Page 
 
 She led the way to where lay a child sleeping 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 With the child in his arms he went and stood 
 
 at the open window 72 
 
 Ursula replaced her treasure where she had 
 
 FOUND IT ,84 
 
 Ursula rides out of Agra, escorted by Scindia 
 
 and St. Lubin 216
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Broken Links 
 
 A long, low, white-stuccoed house, with a broad ve- 
 randa hung - with scented grass purdahs, faced a green 
 lawn, the uniformity of which was broken ty beds of 
 many-coloured flowers, which only the continuous water- 
 ing by the native gardener, or mali as he was called, 
 kept fresh. A broad carriage drive swept round the 
 lawn beneath shady trees, whilst two great groups of 
 palm trees on either side of the veranda gave an im- 
 pression of cool restfulness; the world seemed shut out. 
 Every window of the house was carefully screened by 
 chiks to keep the interior cool ; the cawing of the crows 
 and the twittering of innumerable smaller birds alone 
 broke the stillness. 
 
 As the evening crept on an almost imperceptible 
 breeze stirred the leaves of the trees. Suddenly the 
 silence was broken by the sharp clatter of horses' hoofs, 
 and a young man, mounted on a native pony, rode up 
 the carriage drive. He was followed by a syce (native 
 groom), who, when his young master dismounted at 
 the veranda steps, led his horse away in the direction 
 of the stables. The youth scanned the front of the 
 house with a discontented expression. 
 
 ''No one moving yet," he muttered discontentedly, 
 and he proceeded slowly to mount the steps of the 
 veranda and throw himself into a lounge chair, of which 
 there were several. At the same time he drew a fine 
 
 9
 
 io The Silver Hand 
 
 cambric handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and passed 
 it over his face. 
 
 Noiselessly the khansamah (butler) advanced and 
 stood beside him with a silver salver, upon which was 
 a glass of sparkling - iced water. 
 
 "Ah, that is good!" sighed the young man, stretch- 
 ing out his hand for the glass. The khansamah had 
 already placed it on a low table beside him, and with 
 a deep salaam was retiring, when the youth by a sign 
 stopped him. 
 
 " Raman," he asked, " is the Sahib Felix still taking 
 his siesta?" 
 
 " The Sahib Felix is not at home. He rode with the 
 Missy Sahibah this morning; but when they came back 
 he found a messenger waiting with a letter from the 
 great sahib. He drank a cup of coffee, changed his 
 clothes, ordered a fresh horse, and rode off to the city 
 That is all, sahib." And once more salaaming so low 
 that his turban wellnigh touched the ground, he re- 
 tired. 
 
 At that same moment the glass door which led from 
 the house on to the veranda was thrown open, and a 
 young girl stepped out. 
 
 She was tall for her age, and very thin, as European 
 children mostly are in India; she was also very pretty, 
 almost ethereal looking, very fair, with soft, fluffy hair, 
 which, doubtless on account of the heat, was rolled 
 round her head, and fell in soft, fair curls about her face 
 and neck. She wore a loose frock of some transparent 
 material, with short, puffy sleeves, leaving her arms 
 bare. Round her neck was a string, or rather several 
 strings, of pearls of unusual size and whiteness. The 
 expression of the child's face was one of innocent happi- 
 ness. The parted lips were smiling, and the eyes
 
 Broken Links 
 
 ii 
 
 laughed ; in fact, the play of the whole face was joyous, 
 and there was a mischievous note in her voice as she 
 said : 
 
 "What can have happened, Eustace, to bring you 
 out so early?" 
 
 "I hoped to have found Felix here," he answered. 
 Rising and taking the child's hand, he led her to a low 
 chair more especially her own. 
 
 " I think father must have sent for him, for he went 
 off in a hurry as soon as we came in from our ride. 
 Has anything happened?" 
 
 "Not that I know of," he answered. "But there 
 are strange rumours abroad. French ships have been 
 seen on the coast, and, what is worse, Hyder Ali's men 
 are said to be pouring down from the highlands of 
 Mysore into the Carnatic." 
 
 The child opened her big blue eyes. In all except in 
 appearance Ursula Carmichael was far in advance of 
 her years. She had no companion of her own age; she 
 lived with her father and his friends; her brother Felix 
 and his friend Eustace were her sole companions. 
 Felix was nearly twenty, Eustace eighteen. She knew 
 all the events of the day; no one thought of keeping 
 silence before her, so now Eustace went on: 
 
 " It will be no joke if Hyder, the French, and the 
 Mahrattas are all down upon us at the same time." 
 
 "Oh, I dare say we could manage them!" answered 
 Ursula with that perfect faith of a child who has never 
 known fear. "You are a regular bird of ill omen, 
 Eustace. Ah! here they come; now we shall hear all 
 about it." And, springing up, she ran down the steps 
 of the veranda to meet a group of horsemen coming at 
 a sharp trot up the ride. 
 
 The foremost was a tall, handsome man of about
 
 12 The Silver Hand 
 
 forty — Mr. John Carmichael, one of the richest and most 
 prosperous merchants in the Madras Presidency. His 
 son, Felix, rode a few yards behind, with Mr. Satori, 
 the junior partner of the firm of Carmichael & Son. 
 
 As Eustace rose and came forward the men nodded 
 to him, Felix calling- out: "You've heard the news, I 
 suppose?" 
 
 "Rather!" was the short answer; "that's what 
 brought me out." 
 
 Mr. Carmichael had dismounted, and Ursula's arms 
 were already round his neck. " Father, what do you 
 think Eustace has been telling me? Dreadful things! 
 He says the French, the Mahrattas, Hyder Ali, are all 
 coming down upon us to murder us." 
 
 "You might have spared yourself the trouble of 
 frightening the child," said Mr. Carmichael sharply. 
 
 " I am sorry, sir," answered the young man. " I 
 came out thinking to find Felix here. Is there any 
 truth in the report?" 
 
 " I am very much afraid there is, but there is no 
 immediate alarm; at least I think not. My little girl 
 must not be frightened!" And with that fatherly love 
 which every child, especially a girl child, awakens in 
 a man's heart, he gathered Ursula closer in his arms, 
 carrying her up the steps of the veranda. 
 
 "I am not frightened, father; I have never thought 
 of being frightened." 
 
 "That's right. Now we will take our baths, and 
 after dinner we will talk matters over. I have left 
 orders that messengers should be sent out if there is 
 any further alarm ; but I do not anticipate there will be. 
 Do you, Satori?" 
 
 " I am afraid I am not as sanguine as you are," 
 answered the younger man. "I certainly cannot say
 
 Broken Links 13 
 
 I like the look of things, especially the appearance of 
 French ships on the coast. Mark my words, the 
 French will never rest till they have captured Pondi- 
 cherry again, and to do that they must co-operate with 
 Hyder." 
 
 "Oh well, they're not here yet!" said Mr. Carmichael 
 with a careless indifference natural to him. 
 
 He had come over to India when a mere boy, as 
 was by no means uncommon in those days. He had 
 served under Clive, and witnessed all the ups and 
 downs of the founding of that great Indian Empire, 
 which, thanks to such men, is now the brightest jewel 
 in our monarch's crown. Therefore he did not know 
 what fear meant. The younger men were evidently less 
 impassive. 
 
 As soon as the gentlemen had appeared, turbaned 
 Indians had sprung up as if by magic, the khansamah 
 or chief butler at their head. They absolutely took 
 possession of the guests, conducting them into the house 
 to the marble baths already prepared for the master 
 and his friends; so it came to pass that Ursula found 
 herself alone. She threw herself into a hammock, and 
 lay there swinging, till she was roused by a soft touch 
 of fingers passed through her hair. Then she smiled. 
 "Oh, Krishna, dear," she said, "my hair is quite all 
 right!" She spoke in Hindustani, and the woman an- 
 swered her in the same language. She was a small 
 woman. Her eyes and hair were black. She was 
 clothed in the softest white cotton sari, covering her 
 head and enveloping her whole figure, yet so cleverly 
 arranged that it left her movements quite unhampered. 
 Her voice was soft, almost melodious. 
 
 "My bird," she said, "wake the sahib up. Do not 
 let him sleep. He says there is no danger, but Krishna
 
 14 The Silver Hand 
 
 knows better; the danger is close by. Krishna's own 
 people are coming over the great mountains." 
 
 " Do you mean the Mahrattas?" asked Ursula. 
 
 "Whom else should I mean?" answered Krishna. 
 "Are they not my own people? Was I not made pri- 
 soner and brought to Madras with my baby the very 
 day you were born and the mem-sahib died? It was to 
 your father's house they brought me. The next day my 
 babe died, and I heard you weeping; so I said: 'Give 
 me the child, it will comfort me', and I laid you between 
 my breasts, and you drank and were satisfied. So I 
 forgot my own people because of the love I bore you." 
 
 " Dear Krishna, why do you tell me all this to-day? 
 Of course I love you, and you love me." 
 
 " I tell you because of the danger which is threatening, 
 that you may remember," answered the woman. "All 
 last night I heard their horses' hoofs coming over the 
 mountains. They are a fierce people and will not spare. 
 They will fall upon the white men and slay every one of 
 them. Tell the sahib that the enemj' is at his gate." 
 
 "Assuredly I will tell him what you say, and he 
 will know what to do. See, here he comes. As soon 
 as dinner is over I will speak to him," said Ursula. 
 
 Almost at the same moment the four men, fresh and 
 clean-shaven, and dressed in spotless suits of white 
 linen, came out on to the veranda. The khansamah 
 announced dinner, and instantly the men passed through 
 the open window into the dining-room. The table was 
 luxuriously spread with silver, glass, and flowers, for 
 the wealth of these merchant princes allowed them to 
 indulge in the pleasures of the table. Turbaned Indians 
 moved noiselessly, handing food of every kind, fore- 
 stalling their master's needs; it was the method of 
 Eastern service. Krishna stood behind Ursula, and with
 
 Broken Links 15 
 
 her own hands put the food upon her plate, holding 
 the silver goblet to her lips when she desired to drink. 
 When the child had had food enough, or did not wish 
 to partake of some particular dish, she waved her small 
 white hand, and instantly it was removed. She sat in 
 the mistress's place, opposite her father, on a slightly 
 raised chair, a position which gave her a certain 
 dignity. 
 
 She might have been a royal princess, for she was 
 evidently the centre of attraction. Her father watched 
 her as if he had no thought beyond her, smiling at her 
 and asking her little questions of her day's doings, but 
 he did so less than usual ; they were all more or less 
 preoccupied, and so the meal was a comparatively 
 silent one. 
 
 It was, moreover, a very hot night, and, as soon as 
 possible, Ursula pushed her chair back and called out: 
 " Father, it is stifling, I am going on to the roof. 
 Won't you come, boys?" 
 
 Felix glanced at his father, who nodded back at him, 
 and Felix rose, saying: "All right, Ursa, Eustace and 
 I will keep you company. Father and Mr. Satori will 
 talk business." 
 
 " I wish they would not," she said, putting one arm 
 round her brother's neck. "Do you think Hyder Ali 
 and the French are coming, Felix?" 
 
 " I don't think anything at all about it," he answered, 
 tossing her into a hammock and swinging her to and 
 fro. 
 
 Eustace went to the edge of the parapet and re- 
 marked: "There's a storm brewing." Neither of them 
 saw Krishna until she stood by Ursula's hammock. 
 
 Downstairs, as soon as the men-servants had dis- 
 appeared, Mr. Carmichael pushed the decanter towards
 
 16 The Silver Hand 
 
 his partner, saying - : "Shall we move out to Madras 
 to-night, or wait till to-morrow?" 
 
 "It is late to-night; in a few hours it will be dawn. 
 Give orders that everything be in readiness for an early 
 start," said Satori. 
 
 "I think that will do," answered Mr. Carmichael. 
 "You see no messenger has come out, so there can 
 be no fresh alarm. If only we had Hastings here! 
 But President Whitehall is no good at all; he will 
 simply be scared. I sent a messenger off to Hastings 
 before I left the office, and Bennett is to be trusted." 
 
 "Trusted! Yes, but he has no authority in the 
 city," answered Satori. 
 
 "You mean I ought not to have left the city to- 
 night. After all, I had to see after the safety of my 
 family." 
 
 He had hardly given utterance to the last words when 
 the sound of horse hoofs on the dry parched ground 
 broke on the silent night. They both rose simultaneously 
 and listened anxiously. The sound was still at a certain 
 distance, but the hardness of the ground carried it. 
 
 "To the roof!" said Mr. Carmichael. 
 
 But at that moment Felix stopped them, saying: " It 
 is the Commissioner, Bennett, and half a dozen officers. 
 It must be something serious; they are riding hard." 
 Even whilst he was speaking the room was filling with 
 men, some in military, some in civil dress, but all look- 
 ing supremely anxious. 
 
 "There is no time to lose, Carmichael. The presi- 
 dent has sent us as an escort, the roads are no longer 
 safe, and your presence is needed in the city. Hyder 
 Ali has captured Portobello and Conjeveram. The 
 roads are crowded with fugitives. See, the sky is 
 red with the flames of the burning villages! The 
 
 ( B 946 )
 
 Broken Links 17 
 
 natives and the whites are gathering as fast as they 
 can under the guns of Fort St. George." 
 
 John Carmichael turned fiercely on the speaker. 
 " What fools you all are to let yourselves be scared. 
 Hyder Ali's troops are on the coast, working their 
 way up to Pondicherry. That will occupy them for 
 the present." 
 
 A young officer stepped forward. "You forget the 
 Mahrattas, Mr. Carmichael. It is said a party of them 
 is in the neighbourhood, and the villages are burning." 
 
 "Order the horses, Felix. Fetch the child; I will 
 carry her on my horse. You'll have to take care of 
 yourselves," he added, turning to the native servants, 
 who were crowding into the room and filling up the 
 veranda. 
 
 "We'll stand by you, sahib," shouted several voices. 
 At the same moment there came from the garden the 
 sound of many feet, shots were fired, and the veranda 
 was invaded by a crowd of figures — dark, fierce-faced, 
 with turbaned heads, and the well-known dress of the 
 half-savage Mahratta freebooter. The neighing of the 
 horses mingled with the shrill Hindu war-cry: "Hari! 
 Hari!" 
 
 The handful of Englishmen had seized every musket 
 and pistol they could lay their hands on, and now stood 
 close together. 
 
 " Do not fire until I tell you," said Mr. Carmichael, 
 stepping forward, shouting in Hindustani: "What do 
 yov want? Are you robbers or warriors?" 
 
 The native servants had by this time gathered round 
 their master; many had managed to arm themselves 
 with swords and lances and native weapons which had 
 adorned the walls as ornaments or trophies. Eustace 
 
 and Felix stood close behind Mr. Carmichael. They 
 
 ( 11 ■ 2
 
 is The Silver Hand 
 
 were both armed with pistols, and their young faces 
 looked very white in the moonlight. 
 
 "You have seen to Ursula; she is safe, I suppose," 
 said Mr. Carmichael, throwing back his head and 
 speaking over his shoulder to Felix. 
 
 "I left her with Krishna; she is sure to see after 
 her," he answered, adding sharply: "Take care, 
 father!" But the warning came too late. A report, 
 and John Carmichael fell backwards, shot through the 
 heart. 
 
 How is it possible to tell what followed? A dash 
 forward, a gallant defence, and the flames rose ; shouts 
 and yells, hideous beyond measure, filled the night; 
 the clash of arms, the report of firearms, a dense smoke 
 enveloped the house, out of which tongues of fire rose 
 and fell on a smouldering heap of what had been so 
 lately a happy home. White figures and dark figures 
 fled out into the night; no one recognized an enemy 
 from a friend ; no one knew who was living or who 
 was dead. The stable door had been thrown wide 
 open, and the agonized cries of the terrified horses 
 added to the horror of the surroundings. 
 
 The day was hardly dawning when troops of officials 
 and a mass of men and women came pouring out of 
 Madras. The whole country was plundered and de- 
 vastated ; villages and houses were destroyed — little 
 or nothing remained but ruins for miles round the 
 city; and it was, moreover, an established fact that 
 Hyder was marching with a hundred thousand men 
 up the coast. A few of Mr. Carmichael's native ser- 
 vants had managed to escape and had reached Madras. 
 Raman the khansamah had kept close to Felix. He 
 saw him stumble and fall. He immediately threw him- 
 self upon him and covered him with his own body.
 
 Broken Links 19 
 
 He had always been devoted to him from a child, and 
 when the first rush was over, he, being- a strong- man, 
 lifted him in his arms and carried him to a cowshed 
 at a little distance from the house. Felix soon re- 
 gained consciousness, and upon examining him Raman 
 found that, though he was badly hurt, the wound was 
 only a flesh wound, resulting from the thrust of a spear, 
 which, if properly tended, would have no serious 
 result. Like all Indians, Raman was learned in the 
 use of herbs and in the dressing of wounds. He 
 found his remedy to hand. Tearing off a strip of 
 linen from his turban, he took a handful of cow's 
 dung, and with it bound up the wound. Felix made 
 no moan ; his mental pain far exceeded his physical 
 sufferings. 
 
 "Do you think they are all dead, Raman?" he said. 
 
 " Why think at all, sahib?" answered the man 
 with that cold indifference which marks the followers 
 of Mohammed. They are essentially fatalists. "Allah 
 is great. What is to be will be." 
 
 It is not often in our history that such a disaster 
 has to be recorded. There was consternation in Cal- 
 cutta when, a few days later, a swift ship flying before 
 the south-west monsoon brought the evil news, and 
 the Government knew that the struggle with Hyder 
 was for life or death. Three weeks later the British 
 Empire in Southern India had been brought to the 
 verge of ruin. But there were both genius and courage 
 at the helm — strong heads and strong hearts.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Adrift 
 
 "My lord, thou great and mighty one, deliverer of 
 the poor, go no farther, for behold thy reward awaits 
 thee." 
 
 So spake — or rather shrieked — a gaunt, dishevelled 
 woman, standing in the middle of the road waving 
 her arms, as my Lord Scindia, the greatest of the 
 Mahratta chieftains, passed on his way. At the sight 
 of the woman the horse uttered a shrill cry and stood 
 almost erect on its haunches, beating the air with its 
 fore legs. But the rider never stirred in his saddle — 
 he and the animal were as one. 
 
 "Out of the way, woman!" he shouted. "Would 
 you have me slay you?" 
 
 Fearlessly the woman laid her hand on the bridle. 
 
 " Does not my lord understand? The ' Blessed One' 
 lies under yonder palm tree; even she through whom 
 greatness and power will come to thy nation. Ten 
 days I have waited and watched for thee." 
 
 " Out of my way, woman ; thou art mad ! " exclaimed 
 Scindia. 
 
 "The gift of the gods! And thou despisest it, and 
 would slay me! I "will go out of thy way. I will 
 seek Hyder Ali; he will understand. Thou, may be, 
 hast forgotten the prophecy," continued the woman, 
 coming close up to him. " I will tell it thee. If a 
 strange man and a strange maid, who can never clasp 
 
 20
 
 Adrift 21 
 
 hands, shall go for shelter, and be harboured and 
 kindly dealt with by the Mahrattas, then they shall 
 crush the tiger in his lair, and be great over all the 
 land; the dark man and the white man shall do them 
 homage. I go to Hyder Ali." And she turned away. 
 
 "Hold!" shouted Scindia. "Thou evil one, show 
 me this wonder of the world." And he threw himself 
 off his horse. 
 
 "And if it be too late?" she answered, turning round 
 and looking scornfully at him from under her dark lashes. 
 
 " Then thou hast lied, and I will slay thee as I 
 would slay a snake across my path. Listen ! Thou 
 art a Mahratta, a woman, and I am Scindia, thy 
 lord." 
 
 "I know it," she answered; and she turned and 
 led the way to where, beneath a palm tree, lay a 
 child sleeping. Her young face was as white as the 
 loose robe which covered her round limbs, or as the 
 pearls which encircled her throat and arms. 
 
 "Is that all?" exclaimed the chief angrily. "Be- 
 gone, and take thy brat with thee!" 
 
 "So thou wilt lose the blessing!" she answered. 
 " I tell thee once again she is a gift from the gods. 
 Take her; I go hence; my task is done; thy fate is 
 in thine own hands. Beware how thou dealest with 
 her, lest the blessing become a curse. Farewell!" 
 
 In a second she was gone; he saw her flying over 
 the country, a small, thin, uncanny- looking figure, 
 her black hair floating behind her as if it had been 
 the wings of a bird. She had the appearance of a 
 spirit taking its flight from earth ; her small brown 
 feet seemed hardly to touch the ground. Scindia 
 shouted after her, then shrugged his shoulders and 
 looked down on the sleeping child. " She may be
 
 22 The Silver Hand 
 
 sent by the gods, but she looks like a ' fering"hee 
 batcho' " (child). He stooped down and examined 
 her more closely, with a marvellously delicate touch 
 lifting the closed eyelids. Then he muttered: "She 
 will not sleep much longer. " 
 
 The Mahrattas are not, as a rule, tall, but Scindia 
 was rather above the average height of the warriors 
 of his race. He was a perfect type of the Indian — 
 the dark and yet strangely transparent skin, the thick 
 beard and moustache curling upwards, fierce black 
 eyes, but with a strange possibility of softness in them, 
 perceptible even now as he looked down on the sleeping 
 child. 
 
 Suddenly he shook himself and turned away, harden- 
 ing his face. "Surely the gods can take care of their 
 own!" He uttered a shrill cry, which instantly brought 
 his horse to his side. He laid his hand on the animal's 
 neck, and would have vaulted into the saddle, but 
 suddenly the horse backed. "Itherao!" (come here) 
 shouted Scindia angrily. The horse instantly obeyed ; 
 but another attempt to mount it was followed by the 
 same result. Then Scindia flew into an awful passion, 
 and struck out at the horse, which rushed past him into 
 the open plain, neighing loudly, with ruffled mane and 
 tail whisking the air. Astonished at such strange con- 
 duct from an animal which was usually docility itself, 
 Scindia looked round to see what might be the cause, 
 and there, close behind him, stood the child; her blue 
 eyes wide open, her face uncovered, she looked to him 
 like a spirit from some other world. That she was a 
 gift from the gods he no longer doubted. 
 
 " Koh u hai ? (who is it) what am I to do with 
 her?" he questioned, as she stood immovable beside 
 him.
 
 Adrift 23 
 
 The question was answered in an unexpected way. 
 The child passed him and went straight up to the 
 horse, holding out her hand and saying gently 'Ao!' 
 (come). The horse heard and obeyed, coming up to her 
 where she stood, and rubbing its head lovingly upon 
 her shoulder. Then she turned to Scindia and re- 
 peated ' Ao!' He also obeyed without hesitation, lifted 
 her up, and leapt himself into the saddle. Then, with- 
 out a touch of the spur, the horse flew over the ground 
 carrying its double burden. 
 
 The day had hardly dawned when the strange woman 
 first spoke to Scindia, so that the dew was still on the 
 ground, and the air was cool and fresh. Indeed the 
 wind sweeping over the Ghaut mountains was sharp, 
 as they flew through the air it lashed their faces like 
 whipcords. Scindia felt the child shiver, he even 
 thought he heard her moan. He turned his head and 
 looked at her. 
 
 "Do the gods weep?" he thought, for down the 
 girl's face tears were streaming fast. He lightly drew 
 his rein and instantly the horse stopped. The question 
 rose in his mind: "What could he do with this crea- 
 ture?" 
 
 Had he been a Western man he would have com- 
 forted her, but an Eastern has no dealings with 
 children — that is women's work. He looked round and 
 about in the hope of seeing some human habitation, 
 but there was nothing but the vast plain, and beyond 
 the mountains rolling one above another, until they 
 disappeared in the clouds. The sky was tinged with 
 a deep crimson hue, veiled by a soft mist, precursor 
 of coming heat. A great stillness reigned over the 
 earth, upon which those two seemed utterly alone. 
 What strange destiny had brought them together?
 
 24 The Silver Hand 
 
 He was on his way back to Poona to gather fresh 
 troops with which to make war on the British and 
 at the same time crush Hyder Ali, when suddenly this 
 white thing - had been thrown in his way. What 
 for? He would not have it; he would rid himself of 
 it. 
 
 He was still at a great distance from Poona. How 
 was he to travel with an unveiled woman — child or 
 goddess — on his saddle? And there she sat, quite 
 still, weeping. It would have been a trying position 
 for a civilized man, but to this barbarian it was in- 
 tolerable. There was nothing for it but to lift her 
 down and leave her. He flung himself off the horse ; 
 but when he went to lay hands on her the horse backed 
 and would not let him approach. 
 
 " Surely some evil spirit has entered into the beast!" 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 "Why an evil spirit?" asked a soft voice, speaking 
 in his own tongue. "May it not be a good spirit, 
 which would prevent your doing an evil deed?" said 
 the same voice. 
 
 "Who are you, and where do you come from?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I cannot tell you who I am or where I come from," 
 she answered. "I must have slept and forgotten. 
 The last thing I remember was a great din, din, and 
 I saw flames of fire. I think I must have fallen from 
 the stars. Perhaps I shall awake to - morrow and 
 remember." 
 
 Scindia listened, wondering at the innocence her 
 speech betrayed. She had forgotten the world whence 
 she had come ! To his Eastern nature there was 
 nothing wonderful in this. The mysteries of life and 
 death were less strange to him than they are to the
 
 Adrift 25 
 
 more material nations of the earth. But he was, never- 
 theless, sorely puzzled what to do with her. 
 
 She slipped off the horse, moved away from him, and, 
 finding herself on the bank of a narrow stream, she knelt 
 down and bathed her face and hands in the clear moun- 
 tain stream. It was deliciously cool ; she filled the palm 
 of her hand and drank of it again and again. Thus 
 refreshed, she noticed that the folds of the white cotton 
 garment she wore had got loose, and she began to 
 unwind it. It was a sari some ten or twelve yards 
 long and two or three broad, the national dress of 
 all Hindu women ; she had evidently never worn it 
 herself, but she had seen it arranged by the natives, 
 so she drew the broad folds over her head and wound 
 them again and again round her slight figure, tightening 
 and knotting it firmly at her waist. It must have been 
 put on her whilst she was sleeping, for it was well 
 folded and she had not much trouble to straighten it; 
 one long piece fell over her shoulders, and she had but 
 to draw it forward over her head to screen her face. 
 Scindia watched her. 
 
 " If she be not of our people she has lived with them; 
 she speaks our tongue and she can clothe herself after 
 the fashion of our women, and with the sari round 
 her no one can see her face, no one will know whether 
 she be white or black. I will take her and leave her 
 in the first village we come to." 
 
 But, strange to tell, he did not do as he was minded; 
 some hand seemed to arrest him whenever he would 
 have put her down. So together those two scoured 
 the land, riding so swiftly that as they passed on 
 their way none could tell who or what sat on the 
 wild horse behind Scindia. 
 
 When the heat of the sun was too great, he would
 
 26 The Silver Hand 
 
 stop and take shelter beneath the great trees of a 
 forest, or under the shadow of a mountain. He 
 carried meal in a bag, which he would mix with 
 water and bake between two stones, and give her 
 a portion. She never murmured, but thanked him 
 with a wondrous smile, took it from his hand, and 
 ate. He watched her kneel down and pray, morning 
 and night, but never questioned her, indeed they 
 rarely spoke. He lit big fires at night to scare away 
 the wild beasts, and she lay down and slept as if it 
 had been on a bed of down. She was neither a 
 woman nor a child to him, but, as the woman had 
 said, a gift from the gods, and so he honoured her. 
 He shot birds, which he roasted, and would have shared 
 with her, but she would not touch flesh of birds or 
 beasts. Fish he also caught in the shallow streams, 
 diving in the clear water, and seizing them with his 
 strong white teeth. Nothing seemed to surprise her, 
 so they travelled on for days and weeks ; when he 
 absented himself, as he did sometimes for several 
 hours, he always left the horse with her; indeed 
 the animal would not follow him if she were not with 
 him. 
 
 It was night, they were riding at full speed, when 
 before the tired eyes of the maiden there arose a 
 great white city with minarets and towers, looking 
 vague and mystical in the shadows of night. Scindia 
 suddenly turned and spoke to her. 
 
 "It is the end; this is the city of Poona. I will 
 take you to my wife and you will serve." 
 
 " I will serve her," answered the maiden. 
 
 They entered a courtyard and rode up to a veranda. 
 He lifted her off the horse, and as she stood on the 
 ground the animal laid its head upon her shoulder,
 
 Adrift 27 
 
 and she whispered in its ear: "Goodbye, dear!" then 
 she followed the master. 
 
 To those who have no especial knowledge of Indian 
 history the question may well arise : Who were the 
 Mahrattas? what interest have we British of the 
 present day in their past existence? The answer is: 
 The Mahratta Confederacy formed at one time an 
 integral part of what we call to-day the great Indian 
 Empire. The Mahrattas proper occupied a large tract 
 of country to the north of Mysore, touching upon the 
 vast Mogul Empire, which it was destined in a great 
 measure to destroy, and upon the ruins of which its own 
 transient greatness was founded. The Mahrattas were 
 also Hindus of the purest extraction. They retained 
 the old Brahminical religion, whereas the inhabitants 
 of the other provinces of India were Mohammedans. 
 They worshipped a horrible god called Siva, and 
 a host of minor deities amounting, it is said, to four- 
 score and ten. That there was something more in 
 this ancient religion than what at first presents itself 
 to our minds is evident to the most casual student 
 of Eastern religions. The legends of Buddha have 
 in them a strange resemblance in many cases to the 
 doctrines preached and taught by our own master 
 Christ. The doctrine of renunciation was especially 
 dwelt upon. To the Brahmin, Buddha is Christ. The 
 mass of the people were ignorant and superstitious, 
 but their priests, the Brahmins, were men of the 
 highest education it was then possible to attain to in 
 India. They had schools and colleges, but they kept 
 all knowledge within their own narrow circle. From 
 this caste the peshwa or chief of the Mahrattas was 
 chosen, and the office had become hereditary. A very 
 mild sort of polygamy existed among the Mahrattas;
 
 28 The Silver Hand 
 
 indeed as a rule they had but one wife, and their women 
 had far more liberty than the Mohammedan women. 
 They wore the sari over their faces when they went abroad, 
 but they did not do this in their dwelling- houses, except 
 when strangers were present. The women, we are told, 
 were frank, open, and generously inclined. The common 
 Mahratta woman worked hard in the fields, but the 
 ladies and princesses were highly educated and often 
 took a prominent part in public affairs. Therefore it 
 was no unusual thing for the female heads of a family 
 to receive envoys, to be consulted by their husbands 
 if anything out of the common occurred. They were, 
 as a rule, better linguists than the men — they had more 
 time to spend in study; besides, they frequently took 
 foreign slave girls to serve them, and from them learnt 
 French or English as the case might be. The head 
 centre of the Confederation was at Poona, but low 
 caste Mahrattas were scattered all over the country. 
 
 The Confederacy grew, as we have said, out of the 
 ruins of the Mogul Empire, till it embraced nearly 
 the whole of India. Its armies consisted of soldiers 
 from all parts of India. Its infantry was not of good 
 quality, but its cavalry was an enormous force, num- 
 bering fully a hundred thousand cavaliers. The horse- 
 men were noted riders, splendidly audacious, riding 
 long distances right into the heart of a hostile country, 
 without any support, striking terrific blows, and then 
 returning rapidly beyond the reach of pursuit. They 
 boasted of having watered their horses in every Indian 
 river from the Kavari to the Indus. When the Con- 
 federation was at its height it numbered nine million 
 people under its control, and formed the largest Hindu 
 sovereignty which ever existed; and yet a Mahratta 
 was almost synonymous with a " highwayman ", which
 
 Adrift 29 
 
 is not surprising- when we consider they existed by 
 plundering - expeditions. This was the people whose 
 disputes England was called upon to settle at the 
 time of our story. 
 
 Driven out by the British from their principal pos- 
 sessions, the French went over in considerable numbers 
 to the Mogul Emperor, Hyder Ali, and taught his 
 native soldiers the tactics of European warfare. The 
 Mahrattas, not to be outdone, adopted French methods 
 also ; but the European system was not suited to 
 their genius, it hampered their movements. The old 
 Mahratta chiefs were greatly displeased when these 
 changes were introduced, and uttered predictions of 
 military disasters which were in the end mo/e than 
 fulfilled. The three combative powers in India were 
 therefore the British, Hyder Ali, and the Mahrattas. 
 The French were only to be feared inasmuch as they 
 gave power and knowledge to the native chiefs, but 
 the British Government knew they had still to reckon 
 with them. 
 
 The Mahrattas were at the present moment divided 
 amongst themselves on the subject of the succession 
 of the peshwa. Some members of the Confederacy 
 sided with Rughoba, others declared that the legitimate 
 right lay with the posthumous son of the late ruler, who 
 had been installed as peshwa when only an infant of 
 forty days old. The British had favoured Rughoba, 
 because Bombay lay in the very centre of the disordered 
 country, and would be exposed to great danger if the 
 faction opposed to Rughoba were to prevail. The 
 British, therefore, decided to send money and troops 
 to the assistance of Rughoba. 
 
 It was at this critical moment that French agents 
 from the court of Louis XVI appeared at Poona.
 
 30 The Silver Hand 
 
 The ship which brought them over had put into a 
 Mahratta port. Their names were Raymond de Senlis 
 and Andre" de St. Lubin. Having found their way to 
 Poona, they presented their credentials, were cour- 
 teously received by the Peshwa, and confided to the 
 care of the great Mahratta chief Scindia. 
 
 Now Count Raymond de Senlis was an old friend of 
 Prince Scindia; indeed it was at the prince's instigation 
 that he had gone to France, and, presenting himself 
 at the French Court with gifts of jewels and precious 
 stones, had represented to the king and his ministers 
 the necessity of minimizing the British power in India. 
 It was some little time before he could gain a hearing. 
 France was already on the eve of her great revolution ; 
 the failures which had attended the French army in 
 ^adia had caused a revulsion of feeling. India was no 
 longer a Golconda, the French East India Company 
 was discredited, and it required all Count Raymond's 
 persuasive eloquence to overcome the prejudices which 
 existed concerning India. There is nothing so fatal as 
 failure, especially to a people like the French. After 
 a time, however, the count obtained permission to 
 recruit for both men and arms, and the result was 
 that many soldiers who had fought in the European 
 wars, whose pay was in arrears, and who felt them- 
 selves ill-used, were willing to try their fortunes in 
 a new country, tempted by the count's descriptions 
 of India and the wealth which it was possible to earn 
 in that far-away land. So the count was fairly suc- 
 cessful in enlisting some two or three hundred picked 
 men, to serve as instructors and examples in the Mah- 
 ratta infantry, which, as we have before said, was 
 defective both in discipline and in knowledge. He was 
 thinking of taking his departure with his men for St.
 
 Adrift 31 
 
 Malo, where he intended to embark, when by mere 
 chance he one day came across a distant cousin, in the 
 second or third degree, the young- Count Andre de St. 
 Lubin. They had never met — St. Lubin was only three- 
 or four-and-twenty, and Count Raymond was well on 
 in the thirties, — but they knew each other by name. 
 St. Lubin belonged to the elder branch, and was con- 
 sidered as the head of the family. Raymond de Senlis 
 was connected by marriage, his mother having been a 
 St. Lubin. But in Brittany the rights of consanguinity 
 are sacred, and, meeting in a public tavern, hearing 
 each other's names, they shook hands and fell to talking. 
 So it was that Raymond learnt that his young cousin 
 was living alone in the old chateau, with much land and 
 no money. His father and mother had died when he 
 was a child, his grandmother had brought him up, and 
 he had gone on living in the chateau with the village 
 cure for his tutor. Now the old grandmother had gone 
 the way of all flesh, and he was alone in the world. 
 That was a year ago, and he had suddenly awakened to 
 the fact that he was wasting his life, and that he would 
 do well to see the world. But, alas! land he had in 
 plenty, food he did not lack — his peasants and farmers 
 paid him in kind, — but of money he had little or none. 
 So with some difficulty he had sold an outlying farm 
 for a quarter of its value, and had ridden on one of his 
 homebred horses to Paris to seek his fortune. He 
 knew no one, he had no prospects for the future, his 
 very name and rank hampered him, and he was well- 
 nigh penniless. Under such circumstances to present 
 himself at Court was impossible. As far as he could 
 see only two paths were open to him, either to enlist 
 as a common soldier, or to return and vegetate in the 
 old chateau. He inclined to the former plan; at least
 
 32 The Silver Hand 
 
 there was room for ambition, and, who could tell, he 
 might have the supreme good luck of distinguishing 
 himself. The St. Lubins had always been good soldiers. 
 Yes, he would be a soldier. It was at this very juncture 
 that he came across Count Raymond de Senlis. 
 
 In the course of an hour the whole aspect of the 
 world had changed for Andre St. Lubin. A trained 
 diplomatist, Raymond de Senlis was not long in acquir- 
 ing a perfect knowledge of his young cousin's position 
 and aptitudes. He had liked him at first sight, but 
 before an hour was over he did more than like him, 
 he was fascinated by his frank, open nature, his un- 
 sophisticated ideas of men and things in general. 
 
 " I'm not going to leave you to be mauled about by 
 the wolves. I'll take you under my wing," thought de 
 Senlis, and so he spoke to him in glowing terms of the 
 opportunities which a life in India offered to an adven- 
 turous spirit. 
 
 "The English are driving the French out of their pos- 
 sessions, but it will not always be so," he said, "be- 
 cause we shall unite with the native chiefs, we shall 
 train them after the fashion of European warriors, and 
 with our united strength we shall conquer the whole 
 country. After all, we are soldiers, whose first object is 
 glory; the English are traders, they seek money, they 
 know nothing of the art of war." 
 
 Then he went on to tell of the great Indian kingdoms, 
 of Mysore, of Oudh, but over and above all he spoke in 
 praise of the great Mahratta Confederacy, of the chiefs 
 Prince Scindia and Prince Houlkar. 
 
 "The Mahratta cavalry can overthrow the English, 
 and has more than once done so. It is magnificent 
 when it charges the enemy," he asserted, adding: "If 
 you have nothing better to do, try your fortune with 

 
 Adrift 33 
 
 me. I will present you at Court, and get you a com- 
 mission to accompany me as agent from the French 
 King to the Mahratta Confederacy. Prince Scindia 
 is a great friend of mine, and will make you welcome. 
 Believe me, it is worth your while. When you come 
 back you will bring gold and jewels enough to rebuild 
 your old chateau, and to live like your ancestors en 
 grand Seigneur." 
 
 It did not take much more than this to persuade 
 Andre" St. Lubin to cast in his fortunes with his cousin ; 
 he had no other prospects. So to Court he went, and 
 kissed the King's hand, and received his commission. 
 He raised a small sum of money on his land, with which 
 he fitted himself out, and then with a light heart set 
 sail with his cousin from the port of St. Malo to seek 
 his fortune. He had a very vague idea as to his new 
 duties, but that did not trouble him. Raymond knew; 
 that was enough. 
 
 (B9*6)
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 An Indian Princess 
 
 We imagine oriental palaces of old to be replete with 
 all kinds of luxury, in fact to be places of infinite beauty. 
 A few there may have been, with marble halls and 
 gilded saloons, but the interior of the ordinary dwell- 
 ings even of men so high in station as Prince Scindia 
 was almost sordid. There was little in the way of 
 home life. Women for the most part neither received 
 nor expected thought or attention from their lords and 
 masters. There were a few exceptions, witness that 
 marvellous tomb erected at Agra to commemorate for 
 all ages the love of a man for a woman. In ordinary 
 cases, however, women lived and died with few of the 
 joys of life, and their houses reflected their lives, cold 
 and desolate : long corridors, small comfortless rooms 
 with white walls and stone floors upon which were 
 strewn cushions and even bedding, none of the cleanest. 
 On these women squatted. Half-naked children rolled 
 on the floor squabbling for a sweetmeat or a fruit; no 
 one heeded them; the women chattered on, and them- 
 selves sucked sweetmeats. 
 
 In a room as bare as even the others in the house, a 
 woman sat, but everything about her bespoke order. 
 Her white linen sari was spotless; it was fastened on her 
 head by gold pins, which also held a bunch of red roses 
 just above her small ears, in which were rings of gold 
 
 34
 
 An Indian Princess 35 
 
 studded with rubies. Dark though it was, it was a 
 very sweet face : the features were delicate and refined ; 
 the large almond-shaped eyes had a world of feeling- in 
 them; her hands and feet were very shapely. Hair as 
 black as a raven's wing fell in two long plaits on either 
 side of her face. 
 
 She was looking up at a small woman standing before 
 her, worn and haggard, so thin that her cheek bones 
 stood out, and her eyes were sunk in her head. Though 
 they were sunken, however, her eyes were preternaturally 
 bright, and shone like coals of fire. 
 
 "You say the prince will be home to-night; how do 
 you know it?" 
 
 " It has been revealed to me, else I should not have 
 been here," answered the woman. Then suddenly she 
 threw herself prostrate on the ground at the feet of the 
 princess. 
 
 " He will come back and bring in his hand a gift of 
 the gods!" 
 
 "What will he bring me?" asked the princess 
 eagerly. 
 
 "A child he found sleeping on the roadside. It is 
 the gift of the gods. When she enters your gates happi- 
 ness and prosperity will come with her. You are sad, 
 princess, because you have no child. You fear lest the 
 prince should take another wife; but Scindia loves you; 
 he will not do so. He will wait, the child will come, and 
 both your hearts will rejoice. Thus shall Scindia crush 
 the Tiger of Mysore, and be the greatest prince in 
 India. He is bringing you only half the gift of the 
 gods; the other half is coming from across the 
 water." 
 
 ' ' You are a strange woman," said the princess ; ' ' you 
 have been only three days in Poona, yet you seem to
 
 36 The Silver Hand 
 
 know all things! Is the child the prince is bringing 
 one of our own people, or is she a feringhee?" 
 
 "She is white as the snow on the mountain tops," 
 answered the woman, "but she has Mahratta blood in 
 her veins. She has neither father nor mother; the gods 
 hold her in their hands." 
 
 "What shall I do with her? If she is not of our 
 caste, where will she live, who will care for her?" asked 
 the princess. 
 
 " I will, and the gods will. I am of no caste. 
 Give her to me, and bid Lord Scindia give me the little 
 house without the walls, and you will come to her 
 and she to you, for you will love each other; it is so 
 ordained." 
 
 " Go ! " said the princess ; "when the prince comes we 
 will see if you have spoken true." Even as she ceased 
 speaking there was a sound of horses coming into the 
 courtyard, a running to and fro, and then voices calling 
 one to the other. 
 
 " It is my lord," said the princess, rising; and under 
 her dark skin there was a deep glow, and her eyes 
 shone like two stars. 
 
 " It is thy lord, and the gift of the gods is with him," 
 said the strange woman ; and she crouched down upon 
 the ground in the farthest corner of the room, drawing 
 her sari well over her face. 
 
 Then the purdah was drawn back, and with quick 
 steps, looking eagerly round him, Scindia entered, 
 and the princess was in his arms. Then they sat 
 down on the cushions, and she curled herself up 
 beside him, her arms about his neck, and whispered 
 softly: "Thou hast been long on the road, my be- 
 loved." 
 
 He laughed. "Thou sayest truly, but it is no fault
 
 An Indian Princess 37 
 
 of mine; I have been burdened. Listen, my soul's 
 comforter, I have marvellous things to tell thee." And 
 then rapidly he told her of that strange companion who 
 had travelled with him. "Whether I would or not I 
 could not leave her behind," he said. "The horse 
 would not move without her. Dost thou not hear him 
 now calling to her?" 
 
 "Yes, I hear," said Princess Laily; "but where is 
 the child?" 
 
 "On the veranda. I bade her stay there till I had 
 told thee. 
 
 " If the women see her they will torment her," ex- 
 claimed the princess; and springing up she ran out into 
 the corridor, just in time to disperse a group of women 
 and children who were crowding round something 
 which clung to the narrow pilasters of the veranda. 
 
 "Away, all of you!" she called out, waving her 
 hands; and they dispersed. To her astonishment the 
 horse had walked up the steps of the veranda and pushed 
 his muzzle into the child's hands. Princess Laily watched 
 her. 
 
 A little, drooping, white thing with such a weary face! 
 The woman's soul went out towards her, and with a sort 
 of motherly instinct she held out her arms to her. In 
 a second the little hands were clasped round her neck, 
 and the sweet, white face was pressed against the dark 
 one. Clapping her hands, the princess waited till the 
 strange woman appeared, and strove to take the child 
 out of her arms. 
 
 "I will take her; I have a room; she will be safe 
 with me. Let me have her!" the woman pleaded. The 
 child's eyes had closed, for she was worn out and 
 weary. As soon as she had felt herself safe in those 
 sheltering arms her strength failed her, and she lost
 
 38 The Silver Hand 
 
 consciousness. The princess loosed her hold of her. 
 " If I give her thee, wilt thou swear to bring- her to 
 me to-morrow at dawn? You say she is a gift of the 
 gods. I would not lose the blessing." 
 
 "Thou shalt not! But to-night thy husband waits 
 for thee. See, here he comes." And as the princess 
 turned her head the woman fled down the steps of the 
 veranda across the courtyard with the child, the horse 
 trotting after her. 
 
 "Who is the woman to whom thou hast given the 
 child?" asked Scindia. 
 
 " I do not know," answered Laily. " She is a strange 
 woman, who came to me and told me thou wast coming 
 and would bring a blessing with thee. And she told 
 me other things to gladden my heart. It seems she 
 has only just come to Poona, but she desires to settle 
 here and take charge of that which thou shouldst bring. 
 She is a strange creature. I do not know who she is, 
 or whence she comes." 
 
 Scindia remained thoughtful for a few minutes, then 
 he said: "Of one thing I am assured. She will not 
 harm the child. It was a woman who gave her me. 
 Who knows, it may be the same. She could not have 
 travelled with the child, so she got rid of her. But 
 how she herself reached Poona before me is a wonder. 
 Well, let things be till to-morrow; when she brings thee 
 the child I will see her. Now I must to the palace to 
 see the peshwa. I was told in the city that two strangers 
 had arrived from the French king. I will see thee again, 
 my dove." 
 
 He left her and went to his own side of the house. 
 The princess returned to her room, wondering at the 
 strange thing which had happened, and the face of the 
 white child haunted her even in her sleep. With early
 
 An Indian Princess 39 
 
 dawn she rose and went out on to the veranda. The 
 woman was sitting - on the steps waiting- for her. 
 
 " Where is the child?" she asked. 
 
 " She is sick. All night she has tossed to and fro, 
 moaning. She will die." 
 
 " She must not die. If the gods have sent her, surely 
 they will heal her. Where hast thou taken her?" 
 asked the princess. 
 
 " To the house I asked of thee. It stood empty, and 
 I carried her thither." 
 
 " Is she lying on the bare ground? Has she no bed?" 
 asked the princess. 
 
 " I knew she was coming, so all yesterday I gathered 
 moss and sweet, dry grass. She lies softly ; have no 
 fear." 
 
 "What is thy name, and whence comest thou?" 
 asked the princess. 
 
 "My name is Krishna. I am a Mahratta born, but 
 I have neither husband nor child, and I have been in 
 captivity. Now I am free. I found this child ; the gods 
 have sent her to me, even as they sent my Lord Scindia 
 on the road where she lay, and I will care for her until 
 her spirit pass into another body and I know her no 
 more. Ask no questions. Strive no more to fathom 
 the mystery of the gods. They have sent her to thee; 
 let that suffice thee. Behold who comes hither!" And 
 she pointed to two figures crossing the courtyard, a 
 man and a youth in European dress, embroidered coats, 
 silk knee breeches, white silk hose, shoes with silvei 
 buckles, and broad felt hats with long plumes. 
 
 "They are the French agents come to seek Prince 
 Scindia," said the princess. "I will go with thee and 
 see the child. They are nothing to me. Come!" And 
 drawing her sari over her face she passed the strangers
 
 40 The Silver Hand 
 
 and went out through the gates on to the highroad. 
 How often is it so in life ! We pass our fate and do not 
 recognize it. The two men who were crossing the 
 courtyard of Prince Scindia's house were the Counts 
 Raymond de Senlis and young Andre^ de St. Lubin. 
 
 The first was a man of about forty years of age. He 
 had served in India many years, had held high appoint- 
 ments under Dupleix, had even accompanied that 
 officer back to France, and to a certain extent compro- 
 mised his own position by his loyal adherence to his 
 chief. He returned, however, to India, and when the 
 French were driven out of Pondicherry he attached him- 
 self to the native princes, anxious for one thing only, 
 to hinder as far as was possible the ever-increasing 
 supremacy of the British. 
 
 It is curious to observe how in the new world, as in 
 the old world, Britain and France were always rivals; 
 they literally trod on each other's heels. In India this 
 was especially the case. The French were the first on 
 the ground, and their position was far superior to that 
 of the British. They came as conquerors, impressing 
 the natives with all the paraphernalia of war, the beat- 
 ing of drums, and the clashing of swords. The original 
 English East India Company was, on the contrary, only 
 an insignificant handful of traders, with no warlike pro- 
 pensities beyond the natural instinct of self-preservation. 
 They actually paid their footing to the native princes, 
 and were content to build for themselves a humble 
 factory near the mouth of the River Hugh. By an act 
 of skill and of kindness they obtained from the native 
 prince the permission to trade with the Hindus. 
 
 The story is told of how a princess of the family of 
 the Emperor Shah Jehan was nearly burnt to death 
 by her dress having accidentally caught fire. Her life
 
 An Indian Princess 41 
 
 was despaired of. An English physician was sent for, 
 and in answer to the appeal, a Mr. Gabriel Broughton, 
 surgeon of an East Indiaman, was dispatched. His 
 treatment of the princess was successful, and the emperor 
 in gratitude asked him to name his reward. He de- 
 clared he required nothing - for himself, but requested 
 the extension of the privileges of his countrymen in the 
 province of Bengal. 
 
 " Let my nation trade with yours," was the English- 
 man's generous reply, and having obtained his request 
 he was sent across India at the emperor's expense to 
 carry out the compact. He rendered a second medical 
 service of high value to the emperor's son. For this 
 he obtained permission to establish British factories 
 at Balasore and Hugh — a fresh step in the growth and 
 progress of the British Empire. 
 
 France had sent out, for the conquest of India, able 
 men and good soldiers. They carried with them the 
 traditions of their nation, chivalry and love of glory. 
 It was commonly said: "The French fought for glory, 
 the English for something more substantial". 
 
 Labourdonnais and Dupleix were generals of renown. 
 Dupleix at one time was the greatest potentate in Hindu- 
 stan. But his power rose and disappeared like a meteor 
 flash. He was recalled to France by his ungrateful 
 country, who would send him neither money nor men 
 to support his position. And, what must have been still 
 more galling to a man of undoubted genius, his Eng- 
 lish adversary, who overthrew his power, was no soldier 
 like himself, but a young clerk to a company of 
 traders, without the slightest knowledge of even the 
 rudiments of war. But Robert Clive was, as Lord 
 Chatham called him, " a heaven-born general ". With- 
 out any instructions he held the fortress of Arcot
 
 42 The Silver Hand 
 
 against great odds ; then followed the battle of Plassey, 
 after which he became virtually ruler of India. The 
 "great Mogul", who bore the proud title of "the king 
 of the world", was nevertheless satisfied to disburse 
 enormous sums of money for the privilege of remaining 
 under British protection. The wealth of India was 
 virtually laid at Clive's feet. He it was, and none 
 other, who snatched India from the hands of the French 
 and founded the British Indian Empire. 
 
 He was, fortunately, succeeded as governor-general 
 by a man of equal genius, namely, Warren Hastings, 
 who also rose to power by his own merits. He 
 gathered soldiers and generals around him as a good 
 workman chooses the best tools which come to his 
 hand; and with their aid he drove the French out of 
 all the principal stations in India. 
 
 The French Government, hampered at home, would 
 not understand that without money or men it was 
 impossible to wage war against both the Hindu and 
 the British armies, so they recalled their generals; 
 their soldiers either returned to France or spread 
 themselves over the country, seeking their fortunes 
 as adventurers. Some of the French officers, rather 
 than return home in disgrace, presented themselves 
 at the courts of those native princes who had not as 
 yet given in their adhesion to the British Government. 
 
 First among these princes was the Nabob of Mysore, 
 Hyder Ali. He was himself a usurper, a Mohammedan 
 soldier of low rank, with no education, who, placing 
 himself at the head of a small body of adventurers, 
 soon proved himself to be a man born for conquest 
 and command. He became the founder of the great 
 Mohammedan kingdom of Mysore, the most formidable 
 enemy with whom the British had to contend. His
 
 An Indian Princess 43 
 
 natural inborn genius taught him the desirability of 
 opposing" the French to the British — he recognized 
 their antipathy to each other; so he welcomed all the 
 discarded French officers to his court, flattered their 
 wounded pride by bestowing on them positions of im- 
 portance, and placing them over his armies as instructors 
 in European principles of war and tactics. He even 
 went so far as to send emissaries to France to obtain 
 mercenaries, as the Mahrattas had done, but with still 
 greater success. At one time as many as nine hundred 
 French men and officers landed and marched into 
 Mysore. It was with these recruits that Hyder had 
 crossed the Ghauts and invaded the Madras Presidency, 
 whilst along the Coromandel Straits French and British 
 ships were continually in collision. Many battles were 
 fought by land and sea, much blood was shed, as must 
 ever be the case when nations war between themselves 
 for supremacy. And the wild Mahrattas scoured the 
 country on their fierce ponies, divided also amongst 
 themselves, to-day on one side, to-morrow on the other, 
 until little by little Scindia's iron hand drew them to- 
 gether and made of them a nation ; but that time 
 had not come yet ; the prophecy had yet to be fulfilled !
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Under a Cloud 
 
 Two young- men were walking on the fortifications, 
 or rather the seawall, of the city of Madras, as it 
 existed in the eighteenth century. 
 
 " I tell you, Frank, it is impossible. I cannot re- 
 main here; it will kill me. You say your mission- 
 work will take you into the interior of the country; 
 let me go with you. Bennett can manage the busi- 
 ness. I have personally lost all interest in it, and 
 if it were not for the thought of Ursula I should get 
 rid of it and leave the country altogether." 
 
 " I can quite understand your feelings, Felix," said 
 Frank Burgess. "At the same time I strongly advise 
 you not to act hastily; you seem to be so fully per- 
 suaded that Ursula is not dead. I am not given to 
 be superstitious, but still there is something in natural 
 instinct which I do not think we ought to ignore; 
 therefore, if I were you, as far as business matters 
 are concerned, I should act just as if I were responsible 
 for Ursula's share, till such a time as you are morally 
 sure of her death." 
 
 "And that I never can be unless I can lay my hands 
 on Krishna," said Felix Carmichael. " Her disappear- 
 ance is what leaves the doubt in all our minds. Sita 
 Raman is sure he saw her with Ursula in her arms. 
 Frank, you can never imagine the horrors of that 
 night; they haunt me still!"
 
 Under a Cloud 45 
 
 "I can quite believe you," answered the Reverend 
 Frank Burgess. 
 
 Mr. Carmichael's nephew had been in India only a 
 few months. He had been educated for the ministry, 
 and had always evinced an intense desire to enter the 
 field of missionary work in India. He had written to 
 his uncle to that effect immediately after his ordination; 
 and though, as a business man, Mr. Carmichael con- 
 sidered it unprofitable, he did not feel justified in oppos- 
 ing his nephew. He had originally offered him a place 
 in his business, but when Frank chose the church he 
 transferred his offer to his youngest brother, Robert, 
 then at school ; and it had been decided that in the 
 course of the following year Robert, with his mother 
 and sister, Susan, should come out to India, Mrs. 
 Burgess to take charge of Ursula, who would by 
 then be sorely in need of some female supervision, 
 and Robert to begin training in his uncle's office. 
 
 Ever since her husband's death, which had taken 
 place shortly after Robert's birth, Mr. Carmichael had 
 taken upon himself the charge of his sister's family, 
 and had acted with great generosity. More than once 
 Mrs. Burgess had hinted that it would be advisable, 
 both for Ursula's health and education, to send her 
 to England ; but this Mr. Carmichael had strenuously 
 opposed. 
 
 "My money is worth nothing to me," he wrote to 
 his sister, "if it does not enable me to keep my child 
 with me. You have carte blanche to bring over with 
 you the best and most experienced governesses — money 
 is no object; and there are hill stations for the hottest 
 time of the year, where you can enjoy mountain breezes. 
 No! Unless I see that the child's health flags I will 
 not let her go. If such were the case, I should throw
 
 46 The Silver Hand 
 
 up everything, give the business over to Felix, and 
 come home with Ursula. 
 
 So the matter had been decided, and Frank had come 
 over alone. For the time being he had accepted the 
 chaplaincy of the one English church in Madras, and 
 had resided with his uncle. The life was very enjoy- 
 able, and he became greatly attached to his little cousin ; 
 he undertook her education — she could do little more 
 than read and write, but he found her mind so fresh, 
 so receptive, that teaching her became a real pleasure. 
 The lesson hours were looked forward to by both 
 pupil and teacher. Ursula's first real religious notions 
 were received from Frank Burgess. Beyond the most 
 rudimentary ideas of Christianity she had received 
 no religious teaching — she had been left almost en- 
 tirely to the care of native servants. Felix had been 
 sent to school in England very soon after Ursula's 
 birth and his mother's death ; when he returned to 
 India she became to him his plaything and his dar- 
 ling. 
 
 "I am only surprised she is not utterly ruined," 
 Frank wrote to his mother soon after his arrival. " But 
 she is not. She must be 'born good'; she is simply 
 delightful. She is what you would call very backward, 
 but still she knows a lot of things, and she is a wonder- 
 ful linguist. Hindustani she has, of course, spoken 
 from her birth, and English also; besides these two 
 languages she speaks French with the greatest facility. 
 You see, there are a great many French people out 
 here, and Uncle Robert's house is open to every nation- 
 ality, so she has picked French up somehow. She is 
 certainly a dear little thing, but quite different from 
 the usual English child." 
 
 " I expect I shall have some trouble to bring order
 
 Under a Cloud 47 
 
 into such a very ill-regulated household," remarked 
 Mrs. Burgess to her daughter, a girl of sixteen, who 
 was just fresh from a fashionable school, and who was 
 looking forward with no little excitement to the prospect 
 of going out to India and being introduced into society 
 by an uncle whose wealth and position ensured her 
 many advantages, not the least of which was an early 
 marriage. Already a sum of money which seemed to 
 her inexhaustible had been sent over to purchase a 
 suitable outfit for mother and daughter. 
 
 "I do not know much about ladies' requirements 
 in the way of clothing, my dear Louisa," Mr. Car- 
 michael had written, "but I do know that I wish 
 you and Susan to have everything you require without 
 stint; so, if I have not sent enough, do not hesitate 
 to draw upon King & Co. for as much as you need. 
 They have received my orders; your credit is un- 
 limited." 
 
 This was written only a few days before the disaster. 
 It was by mere chance that Frank had gone into Ma- 
 dras the previous day to celebrate a marriage, and 
 as it was Saturday, and very hot, he had preferred 
 remaining in the big cool town house to dragging in 
 and out for the Sunday services. He had seen both 
 his uncle and Felix before they left Madras that even- 
 ing, and, with the rumours which were floating about, 
 he had urged them to return to the city with as little 
 delay as possible. 
 
 " Your house is so far out," he remarked. " If there 
 were a raid of the Mahrattas— and people are talking 
 of the possibility — it might be awkward." 
 
 " My dear Frank, you have never seen a Mahratta 
 or you would know it would be rather more than 
 awkward," answered Mr. Carmichael. "Myself," he
 
 48 The Silver Hand 
 
 continued, " I am not inclined to think they will trouble 
 us. We have much more to fear from Hyder Ali and 
 the French." 
 
 When, therefore, he was informed that the presi- 
 dent had sent requesting" Mr. Carmichael's immediate 
 presence, he thought his uncle had judged rightly, 
 and waited for his return with the commission and 
 officers sent to fetch him. We know he waited in 
 vain. The whole town was in an uproar, when a syce, 
 having managed to get a horse out of the Carmichaels' 
 stable, had rushed through the melee, succeeded in 
 gaining the highroad, and so had made his way to 
 the city. The syce was followed at long intervals by 
 other stragglers, all more or less wounded, but no 
 European appeared. This was afterwards accounted 
 for by the fact that the gentlemen were all herded 
 together, and were at once surrounded and killed. 
 
 Frank was the first to ride out; he could not believe 
 but that things had been exaggerated, and that he 
 should find someone on the road. Surely Krishna 
 would have managed to find a hiding place for Ursula ! 
 Strange to say, the Indian woman had taken an intense 
 dislike to Frank. All the jealousy in her nature — and 
 that is not a little thing to reckon with in an Indian — 
 had sprung into existence from the first time she had 
 seen him take Ursula on his knee and begin to teach 
 her. 
 
 "What did the child want to learn for?" she asked. 
 " Everything came to her, and it was hurtful for her to 
 be shut up!" She complained to Mr. Carmichael, but 
 he only laughed. 
 
 "The little sahibah would learn neither more nor less 
 than she chose," he said. So she got no redress, and 
 went away angry, and from that hour it was war to
 
 Under a Cloud 49 
 
 the knife, on her part at least, against Frank. She did 
 everything she could to prevent Ursula and him from 
 being together, till at last one day Ursula stood before 
 her, and spoke to her. Her bath had been late, she was 
 not dressed when Frank called to her, and he had been 
 obliged to go out without giving her her lessons, and 
 Ursula cried and told him how Krishna tried every day 
 to prevent her from learning. 
 
 "Then you must make her understand that you will 
 be a mem-sahib one day, and that there are many things 
 which you must learn ; she will listen to you better than 
 to anyone else, because she loves you, and I am afraid 
 for that very reason she does not love me. Jealousy 
 is a bad thing, little woman, and I am afraid Krishna 
 is jealous." 
 
 "Is she ? What is it to be jealous ?" she asked. 
 "That is a lesson I will not teach you, and I hope 
 you may never learn it, dear," he answered. 
 
 So Ursula spoke to Krishna, and told her she must 
 and would learn what the Sahib Frank had to teach 
 her. Krishna yielded, but with an ill will; and she 
 loved Frank none the better because she had to give in. 
 It was with a heavy heart that Frank rode out that 
 Sunday morning to seek for his friends, and found 
 them not. Only the dead bodies of those who a few 
 hours before had been in the full enjoyment of life lay 
 covered up and cold, waiting to be carried to their 
 graves. His uncle and Eustace Rayner lay side by 
 side, with the commissioner and two young officers. 
 After the murderers had ridden away, one or two of 
 the servants had crept back, and had found that some 
 of the men, though severely wounded, were still alive, 
 amongst them Monsieur Satori. They had removed 
 him to another room, and assisted him as best they 
 
 (B946) 4
 
 5 o The Silver Hand 
 
 could. But though he searched high and low, assisted 
 by servants and friends, who now came flocking out, 
 Frank could find no trace of either Felix or Ursula. At 
 last an idea struck several of the searchers ; the robbers 
 must have carried the brother and sister off as hostages. 
 Frank felt some degree of comfort even in this, as he 
 rode back, almost broken-hearted, to Madras. 
 
 He had not gone far when he was startled by the 
 appearance of a man running out of the wood towards 
 him. He recognized at once the khansamah, Sita 
 Raman, and rode up to him. 
 
 "He lives, Sahib Frank, he lives; but you must be 
 quick, for he is faint with loss of blood." 
 "Who lives?" asked Frank hastily. 
 "Who but the Sahib Felix! I, Sita Raman, saved 
 him. Come!" 
 
 Flinging himself off his hc.se, Frank followed the 
 man, who talked volubly. They had only a few yards 
 to go, and there lay Felix on the ground, with a scared 
 white face. He rose quickly when he saw Frank, but 
 staggered and would have fallen if his cousin had not 
 laid hold of him. 
 
 "Steady, old boy!" he said in a husky voice; but 
 Felix clung to him with his uninjured arm, laid his 
 head on his shoulder, and sobbed. Frank did not 
 try to stay his tears; indeed his own were falling 
 fast. Thus they wept in each other's arms. After a 
 few minutes they recovered themselves. 
 
 "You can sit my horse, can't you?" asked Frank. 
 "The sooner we get you home the better, you know. 
 Raman will walk on one side of you, I on the other; 
 
 come !" 
 
 " Stop one moment," sobbed Felix; "tell me about 
 
 Ursula."
 
 Under a Cloud 5* 
 
 "Five minutes ago I did not know whether you were 
 alive, dead, or a prisoner; you were not among the 
 dead, that was all. It is the same with Ursula, there- 
 fore there is every reason to believe that she has 
 escaped with Krishna; they are both missing." 
 
 "Thank God!" said Felix, and he allowed himself to 
 be lifted on to the horse, and so they returned to Madras. 
 
 Weeks went by, but no news could be obtained of 
 either Ursula or Krishna. A high reward was offered 
 both by the Government and by Felix, but there was 
 not a trace of either of them to be found. Felix was, 
 being of age now, head of the firm of Carmichael & Son. 
 Monsieur Satori had only just been admitted as junior 
 partner, and the shock he had received was so great 
 that he had given in his resignation, and had declared 
 his intention of returning to Europe. Felix persuaded 
 him to remain as sleeping partner; he liked the man, 
 and his father had liked him; he was Italian on his 
 father's side, English on his mother's, therefore he was 
 deeply impressionable. "Go home and come back again 
 later; you will be sorry to have thrown up a good thing; 
 besides, I want you. I shall keep the place open for 
 you," said Felix. So the matter was settled, they shook 
 hands and parted with a mutual feeling of goodwill and 
 friendship. 
 
 It was strange for a young man like Felix to feel 
 himself alone responsible for everything. Over and 
 over again he said to Frank: " If it were not for you, 
 I could not bear it." The cousins were inseparable. 
 Frank was not naturally a business man, but he ap- 
 plied himself to help his young cousin, and his very 
 presence was a comfort. They lived together in close 
 communion, and his naturally thoughtful religious 
 nature comforted and strengthened Felix; besides.
 
 52 The Silver Hand 
 
 Ursula was a strong- link between them. Frank had 
 the same brotherly love for her as Felix had; indeed 
 he knew the child's mind better, and he grieved beyond 
 measure for her loss. He had received several offers 
 of missionary work from different societies, but since 
 the catastrophe he had refused them all ; he felt that 
 his first duty was to Felix. His uncle had acted most 
 generously towards him and his family; the least he 
 could do was to stand by his cousin in his sore afflic- 
 tion. He was accustomed to those sudden bursts of 
 despair, when but for him Felix would have thrown 
 everything up and simply allowed himself to drift. On 
 this especial day he had seen that Felix was in one of 
 his dark moods. After dinner he had persuaded him to 
 take a stroll on the fortifications. There, as he had 
 expected, he had given vent to his feelings, and Frank 
 had answered him with full sympathy. At the same 
 time, he maintained, as he had always done, that it 
 was a man's duty to remain at his post. 
 
 " I have been thinking whether it would not be as 
 well to carry out your father's plan, and let my mother 
 and sister come out and keep house for us. It will help 
 us both, for I assure you, Felix, I believe I am as 
 miserable as you are. They would bring a new ele- 
 ment into our lives. I shall certainly not leave Madras 
 at present; I do not think we have any right to do so. 
 Supposing Ursula were found and brought home, and 
 there was no one to receive her!" 
 
 "I had not thought of that," said Felix. "I am 
 ashamed to say I think more of my own pain than 
 of what that dear child may be suffering. Yes, we 
 will stay here, and you shall send for Aunt Louisa; it 
 will be less desperately miserable for both of us. Do 
 you know, I saw that poor girl Phyllis Rayner to-day ;
 
 Under a Cloud 5 
 
 -> 
 
 she was looking so ill, and she told me her father 
 and mother would not be comforted for the loss of 
 Eustace; they depended so much upon him." 
 
 "Yes, I know all about that," said Frank. "Mr. 
 Rayner is letting the business slip through his fingers 
 from sheer lack of energy. I think you ought to see 
 him, Felix, for, indirectly of course, it was in trying 
 co warn us that Eustace lost his life; and if the busi- 
 ness fails the women will have nothing to live on." 
 
 "What can I do for them?" said Felix, falling back 
 into his old listless tone. 
 
 " Go and call upon them. Mrs. Rayner will soon tell 
 you how matters stand, and before bad becomes worse 
 you may be able to help the man." 
 
 Felix smiled, which was just what Frank wanted, 
 saying, with a touch of humour: " I wonder how many 
 more pensioners you will land upon me?" 
 
 Frank laid his hand affectionately upon his shoulder. 
 "My dear fellow, believe me, it is the only way. In 
 helping others you help yourself." 
 
 " I suppose you are right," answered Felix. " Now, 
 about Aunt Louisa; you wrote by the last mail to tell 
 her what had happened, but you forgot that she will 
 not get that letter for five or six months ; in the mean- 
 time, she was to start a month after the receipt of my 
 father's letter, so she will be well on the road, and will 
 never receive your letter." 
 
 " Of course not," said Frank. " I had not realized 
 how slow the communications between England and 
 India are. After all, it is perhaps as well; it settles 
 matters as far as we are concerned, and it will save her 
 present pain." 
 
 "Just so," answered Felix, "and between this and 
 then, who knows, we may have found Ursula. I am
 
 54 The Silver Hand 
 
 employing native detectives, and they are like blood- 
 hounds if they once get on the scent." 
 
 He spoke more cheerfully than Frank had heard him 
 do for a long time, and, as they retraced their steps 
 homewards, he said : "I feel as if I should sleep to- 
 night; you are very good and patient with me, old 
 fellow." 
 
 "Not at all," answered Frank, "I understand your 
 sorrow because in a great measure it is my own." 
 
 It was a lovely night, the moon was shining over 
 the sea, and the sky was ablaze with stars. Frank and 
 Felix were both young, and, because of the pain they had 
 gone through, sensitively alive to outward influences. 
 
 "It seems a shame to go to bed on such a night," 
 said Frank. "Let us go up on the roof." 
 
 Felix acquiesced, and they went up to the square 
 roofed platform, and threw themselves into the lounge 
 chairs with which it was plentifully furnished. Then 
 they communed together, not of their hopes and fears 
 in this world, but of the great mystery of God's deal- 
 ings with mankind, and of the ultimate end and object 
 of it all. 
 
 "I have often marvelled," said Frank, "more es- 
 pecially since I came to India, at the faith of the three 
 wise men — the Magi — who, looking up, saw a star, 
 and, without questioning, followed it into a far-away 
 country. They left everything— their home, their own 
 people — and went forth to seek a king, and they found 
 only a babe lying in a manger; yet we are not told 
 that they showed any surprise or murmured at the 
 long journey they had taken for apparently such a 
 poor result. They accepted what they found, knelt, 
 and offered their gifts, and tramped home again satis- 
 fied. And we will accept nothing which we do not
 
 Under a Cloud 55 
 
 understand ; we murmur at the roughness of the road 
 which we are called upon to tread, forgetting that the 
 Christ is waiting for us at the end of the journey; 
 not the babe, but the man of sorrows, who trod the 
 same path we are treading of pain and sorrow. It is 
 want of faith ; we pray for many things, but we do not 
 pray sufficiently for faith. It is the most blessed gift 
 of God, bringing with it perfect peace. Fancy what 
 it must be to have no fear, to be assured that whatever 
 happens is well!" 
 
 " It is unattainable," said Felix. 
 
 "With God nothing is impossible," answered Frank. 
 " We can at least pray for it to be given to us." With 
 that he rose, and, without another word, they parted for 
 the night.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 The Great Monsoon 
 
 When the news of the pending- danger of Madras 
 reached Calcutta, in twenty-four hours the Governor- 
 General, Warren Hastings, had decided what was to 
 be done. He made light of the Mahratta incident, 
 though he regretted the loss of life ; but he had reason 
 to believe that the attack was directed more especially 
 against Hyder Ali, and that the real Mahratta chiefs 
 had little or nothing to do in the matter. In any case 
 a peace, even if it were only a temporary one, must be 
 concluded with the Mahrattas, to allow of all possible 
 energy being directed against Hyder Ali. A large mili- 
 tary force and a supply of money were immediately 
 dispatched to Madras with Sir Eyre Coote, who was 
 also to replace, as Governor-General of Fort St. George, 
 the incapable President Whitehall. So rapidly were 
 these measures carried into effect that the reinforce- 
 ments were in Madras before the French fleet, which 
 had so long threatened them, had arrived in the Indian 
 Seas. What Sir Eyre Coote felt was necessary to 
 establish once more British preponderancy, was, to 
 strike a decisive blow and gain a complete victory over 
 Hyder Ali. This was absolutely necessary to check 
 his further progress. So far he had been triumphant 
 all along the coast; the Sepoys in many garrisons 
 had thrown down their arms. The British general 
 therefore profited by a road which Hyder had himself 
 
 5G
 
 The Great Monsoon 57 
 
 caused to be cut through the jungle and sandhills 
 to enable him to make a flank attack on the 
 British. The British troops were only eight thousand 
 in number, and Hyder was at the head of eighty 
 thousand. Nevertheless, without hesitation, Coote 
 attacked. It was a desperate battle, lasting, we are 
 told, six hours; but it ended in Hyder's complete de- 
 feat. A few weeks later Coote inflicted a fresh defeat 
 upon Hyder, and destroyed not less than five hundred 
 of his cavalry in their charge on the British guns. 
 Neither Tippoo nor the French, of whom there was a 
 large contingent under General Bussy, cared to give 
 Coote battle again. They retreated before him. Un- 
 fortunately a victim to ill health, the victorious general 
 was himself obliged to throw up his command and 
 go back to Calcutta. 
 
 The British and French fleets kept up a continuous 
 warfare on the sea, but what more especially affected 
 Hyder AH was a master-stroke of policy on the part 
 of Warren Hastings. He entered into a treaty with 
 the Mahratta Confederacy, which, if carried into effect, 
 Hyder Ali knew would bring the Mahrattas into 
 Mysore ; he therefore hurriedly left his French allies 
 and hastened to Mysore. 
 
 " I must go alone," he said, "against these faithless 
 Mahrattas. I dare not admit the French into my own 
 country." 
 
 This man, who had been the tyrant of India, whose 
 vices and cruelty were only to be equalled by his own 
 son, Tippoo Sahib, was a very old man, and, if we 
 are to believe the chronicles of the time, the most 
 miserable of men. His most familiar friend asked him 
 one day why he started so much in his sleep. He is 
 said to have replied: " My friend, the state of beggars
 
 58 The Silver Hand 
 
 is more delightful than my envied monarchy, for they 
 see no conspirators when awake and dream of no 
 assassins when asleep." 
 
 But the French would not allow him to despair. 
 They had received considerable reinforcements, and 
 felt persuaded they should be able to hold their ground 
 in the Carnatic, and drive the British into the sea. 
 So he consented to continue the war. He was the 
 more easily persuaded to do this as the British ad- 
 miral, Hughes, refused to remain in the Madras roads, 
 but insisted upon going round to Bombay, where he 
 could properly refit his shattered fleet. It was fortu- 
 nate for Hughes that he took this resolution, for had 
 he hesitated, and lingered in the neighbourhood of 
 Madras, he would have probably lost his whole 
 fleet. 
 
 It was the 15th of October, and Frank Burgess was 
 riding back to Madras after paying an early visit to 
 an English workman who had met with an accident 
 and who was in danger of death. It was still quite 
 early, and he was surprised to see groups of natives 
 standing at the corners of the streets, talking and 
 gesticulating. He stopped and asked if anything were 
 amiss. He was answered quickly: 
 
 "The monsoon, sahib. It will be here to-night." 
 
 Vaguely Frank had heard the monsoon spoken of, 
 but he had understood that as a rule it was bene- 
 ficent, watering the land and preventing drought and 
 famine. Now he saw fear imprinted on every face. 
 He hastened to the Carmichael offices, to find anxiety 
 and confusion even there, where everything was usually 
 so quiet and well regulated. Felix and Bennett were 
 deep in consultation. Several of their own ships 
 were expected in the harbour; the question was,
 
 The Great Monsoon 59 
 
 would they get in before the monsoon reached the 
 coast? 
 
 " If they do not we shall have heavy losses. I am 
 told that it threatens to be of unusual violence," said 
 Felix. "Listen!" 
 
 They were standing" together on a parapet which 
 had been built out from the main body of the business 
 house, and which, so to speak, overhung the sea. He 
 leant forward over the balustrade, signing to Frank 
 to do likewise. 
 
 "Do you hear it now?" he asked. 
 
 "Indeed I do," answered his cousin. "It is as if 
 thunder were rolling in the bowels of the earth." 
 
 " The time is most unfortunate. I have three of 
 our largest ships, laden with rice, which ought to have 
 been in yesterday, and are not yet sighted. If they 
 are not in before night, they will be lost; and though 
 I shall be the poorer by several thousand rupees, 
 there is something worse which we shall have to 
 face." 
 
 "And what may that be?" asked Frank anxiously. 
 
 Ever since he had been in India, it seemed to him, 
 disaster had succeeded disaster, a sort of terror reigned 
 over the country. The city of Madras was crowded 
 with poor natives of the Carnatic, who had fled 
 from Hyder and had taken refuge under the guns 
 of Fort St. George. At the best of times they were 
 desperately poor, but under present circumstances 
 they were verging upon starvation. Their staple 
 food was rice, of which there had been a scarcity in 
 and around Madras presidency, and the ships which 
 were now making for the harbour were known to be 
 laden with rice for the garrison, the town, and the 
 army.
 
 60 The Silver Hand 
 
 Felix explained this to Frank, adding - : "If anything 
 were to happen to those cargoes, it would mean abso- 
 lute famine." 
 
 "There's misery enough among the natives al- 
 ready," said Frank. "The city and the suburbs are 
 swarming with beggars. God help us if it be as you 
 say!" 
 
 " Have you thought that your mother and sister may 
 even now be knocking about in the Roads, if only the 
 captain be wise enough to keep well out to sea? 
 Listen!" 
 
 And with a feeling of anxiety almost akin to fear 
 they listened to the ever-increasing roar of the wind 
 and ocean. The sea, like a great leviathan, came 
 rolling in; the ships rose and fell on the huge waves 
 which came dashing on to the shore. It seemed hopeless 
 to imagine that anything could live in such a furious 
 tempest. The noise was deafening. It was impossible 
 to hear what one man said to another; indeed the vio- 
 lence of the wind was such that no one could stand 
 against it. It swept down the streets and round the 
 corners ; trees were torn up, the leads from the roofs 
 fell clattering to the ground, endangering the lives of 
 passers by; animals as well as human beings were 
 driven before it. Frank and Felix managed with diffi- 
 culty to reach their house. Sita Raman was waiting 
 for them anxiously. 
 
 "Ah, sahibs," he exclaimed as he opened the door 
 just wide enough to let them slip in, and then shut and 
 barred it, "it is a terrible affliction! All the ships 
 which are out at sea will be wrecked or swamped, 
 and the rice which was to give life to so many will 
 be scattered on the waters, food for fishes, whilst 
 men will die of hunger." And he wrung his hands,
 
 The Great Monsoon 61 
 
 as did the other servants, who crowded into the hall 
 to see the young- sahibs. 
 
 Frank, standing- in their midst, said: "I am 
 astonished at you, Raman. I thought you were per- 
 suaded that the will of Allah was unquestionably right; 
 at all events there is nothing to be done but for you 
 to pray to Allah, and for us to our Christ. We men 
 cannot stay the winds or the waves. Come, Felix." 
 And the two young men passed through the hall to a 
 room which served them as smoking-room and library. 
 
 " I don't see much use in going to bed to-night; we 
 should not sleep. Did you ever hear such a noise?" 
 said Felix. 
 
 " It is truly terrific," answered his cousin. 
 
 They stood together at the window, watching with 
 awe the battle of the elements. They felt the house 
 shake under the violence of the hurricane, the garden 
 over which they looked was a desert — the trees were 
 uprooted, the flower-beds were swept away, and over 
 all was that awful shrieking of the elements, as if ten 
 thousand devils had been let loose on the earth. In the 
 passages and the halls, wherever they happened to be, 
 the natives lay on the ground moaning; and so it was 
 all over the city, in every house and hovel. No one 
 save the babe at the breast slept that night in the city 
 of Madras or for many miles round, and when the 
 morning dawned the scene which met the eyes of the 
 inhabitants, or at least of those few who ventured out, 
 was appalling. The strand was covered with wrecks 
 or fragments of merchant ships. It was a cruel sight, 
 for, as we have already said, many of these ships were 
 loaded with rice, every bag of which was lost, and 
 there was no possibility of procuring a fresh supply 
 either by land or sea. There was nothing to look for-
 
 62 The Silver Hand 
 
 ward to but famine, war, and pestilence. Both the 
 young- men, worn out with watching, and almost 
 stunned by the noise, had towards morning laid them- 
 selves down on the floor, and so had fallen into a merci- 
 ful sleep; they were both young, and nature claimed 
 her dues. They were awakened by Sita Raman coming 
 in, bringing with him a perfume of coffee. 
 
 "Sahib," he said, salaaming, "there are two sahibs 
 waiting to speak with you. I am afraid they bring evil 
 tidings to your excellence." 
 
 " How can you expect they should bring anything 
 else?" said Felix, rising. "Thank God for an hour's 
 forgetfulness ! " he added, looking at Frank, who had 
 also risen. 
 
 The same thought was evidently in both their minds, 
 but Raman did not move. 
 
 "Drink your coffee, sahibs; ill news on an empty 
 stomach is bad." Like children they obeyed him, or 
 perhaps it was with that instinctive desire to put off 
 the evil hour. 
 
 " Show the gentlemen in, Raman," said Felix, put- 
 ting down his cup, "and see that the baths are ready 
 for us." 
 
 Then he turned to the window; for the life of him 
 he could not have spoken to Frank. Was he about 
 to hear that mother, son, and daughter had been lost 
 in last night's storm? 
 
 The door was thrown open, and Bennett and Rayner 
 entered. 
 
 John Bennett was a man of something over forty. 
 He had been devoted to Robert Carmichael. He was 
 now head manager, and knew everything connected 
 with the firm. He had been, and still was, inconsol- 
 able for his master's death, but the certainty that Felix
 
 The Great Monsoon 63 
 
 could never get on without him had nerved him to 
 make a supreme effort to keep things together. He 
 and the master had worked together to make the 
 business what it was. He would stand by the children 
 to the last. It was now six months since that fatal 
 night, and he was, like Felix, still fully persuaded 
 that Ursula was living. 
 
 Bennett was a tall, spare man, his face burnt almost 
 as brown as a native's. He had come to India as 
 a boy, and had never gone home. His whole soul 
 was wrapt up in the house of Carmichael & Son ; he 
 knew everything concerning it. Robert Carmichael 
 had wished to make him a junior partner, but he had 
 declined. "What is the use of breaking up into por- 
 tions? Let the children have the whole," he said. 
 He was a bachelor, and whatever relations he had 
 were in England, but no one ever heard anything 
 about them. It was rumoured that he had saved a 
 goodly pile; certainly, as the manager of such a firm, 
 he had ample opportunities for so doing. 
 
 "Well, Bennett," said Felix, stepping forward to 
 meet him and holding out his hand, "are we bank- 
 rupt?" 
 
 " It would take more than one monsoon to do that," 
 he answered shortly. " It's pretty bad and is likely 
 to be worse, but I guess we shall pull through. No, 
 I came up especially to relieve your mind about the 
 Sultan ; as far as can be ascertained she's all right ; 
 she's well out at sea still, and if she can weather the 
 storm for the next few days, until the monsoon has 
 gone down, she'll come in with flying colours." 
 
 "Thank you, Bennett !" said Frank, holding out his 
 hand. " It's been an awful night; I hardly dared hope 
 they'd keep clear of the coast."
 
 64 The Silver Hand 
 
 "Well, we've lost three of our best ships, smashed 
 up on the strand, cargoes lost." 
 
 " What of the crews?" put in Felix. 
 
 "Some have gone down, of course, but several of 
 the lads managed to cling to spars and planks and 
 what not. Rayner was down there almost before it 
 was light, and he's got two young fellows in his house." 
 
 "That's good!" said Felix. "But two, what's two? 
 I must go and see after the others. Come on, Frank! 
 Thanks, both of you, for coming up. Make Sita Raman 
 give you your breakfast. I'll meet you at the office." 
 And he was gone, followed by Frank. 
 
 Bennett watched them with a smile. "They'll do 
 double good work now their minds are relieved," he 
 said. "Well, I think we've earned our breakfast, 
 Rayner; we've a heavy day's work before us." 
 
 A call brought Raman, who looked round with a 
 disconsolate air. "The sahibs are gone without their 
 haziri," he exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes. They are young, Raman; they can do it, 
 but we old ones must eat. Will you serve us?" 
 The Indian salaamed and left the room with an air 
 of discontent. Felix was the idol of his life ; he 
 would have died for him ; he was to him as a son. 
 Had he not saved him, the fatherless one? 
 
 So haziri was served to the two gentlemen in the 
 dining-room, but Raman did not put in an appearance. 
 He followed his master through wind and rain down 
 to the strand, to see the damage which the night 
 had left behind it. 
 
 "You did a good thing to take Rayner into your 
 office," said Frank. " If this had happened whilst he 
 was still on his own account, I believe he would have 
 done something desperate."
 
 The Great Monsoon 65 
 
 " I dare say you are right," answered Felix. " I put 
 the matter in Bennett's hands. You know they live 
 in the same house, and Bennett is very friendly with 
 the mother and daughter. I wanted to bolster the man 
 up, but Bennett would not hear of my doing- so. He 
 said that there was nothing- to bolster up, and that 
 the only thing to do was to get rid of the whole con- 
 cern and take him into the office on a fixed salary 
 with profits. He was not a confirmed drunkard ; it 
 was worry that made him drink. He promised that 
 he would see that Rayner had plenty of work to keep 
 him out of mischief, and that the money would go 
 where it ought to. So the matter was settled, and 
 Rayner is a reformed character." 
 
 "The wife and daughter are beyond measure grateful 
 to you," said Frank. 
 
 At the same moment, turning a corner, they came 
 in full view of the sea front. The rain had ceased, 
 but the wind was still blowing, and the sea was tossing 
 mountains high, breaking in surf on the shore, and, 
 alas! bearing with it wreckage of all sorts. Thousands 
 of people had crowded down, and were fighting, strug- 
 gling with each other, to get what they could. There 
 had been an attempt at order, even at one moment 
 there had been a question of calling out the troops, 
 but the idea had been abandoned. Someone had said : 
 " Let them take what they can, it will not save them 
 from starvation." 
 
 It was easier to fight Hyder Ali than pestilence and 
 famine. The town was already overcrowded with 
 refugees, but now they came flowing in from all 
 parts of the country, crying out for food, and there 
 was none. It would be months before rice could be 
 brought round from Bengal, and in the meantime they 
 
 ( B 94C ) 5
 
 66 The Silver Hand 
 
 died by hundreds in the city, and at last the roads 
 which led to the towns were strewn with the dead 
 and dying. Nothing was heard but cries and moans 
 and unavailing prayers for relief, addressed to men 
 who had not a grain of rice to spare, and who might 
 soon be subject to the same want and agony. 
 
 Before the first week was out both Frank and Felix 
 realized the impossibility of bringing Mrs. Burgess 
 and the two young- people into such an awful state of 
 things. Long consultations were held with Bennett, 
 and at last it was agreed that as soon as the Sultan 
 was sighted, Bennett and Frank should go out to 
 the ship, and get them to exchange at once into a 
 ship bound for Calcutta. If necessary Frank would 
 accompany them and return as soon as possible to 
 Felix. The interview would naturally be a painful 
 one, as Mrs. Burgess was entirely in the dark as 
 to even her brother's death. The position was a 
 most difficult one; but, as often happens in this world, 
 it solved itself. The voyag-e had been by no means 
 a successful one. Mrs. Burgess had been unable 
 from the first to leave her berth, and at one time 
 was so seriously ill that there had been some question 
 of putting her on land. We must remember that the 
 accommodation of these sailing- vessels was by no means 
 luxurious, and that they were absolutely subject to the 
 wind and weather. So it came to pass that for six 
 weeks they were becalmed, and then, as fate would 
 have it, they were caught by the changing monsoon 
 and driven on to Arabia Felix. Here they lay for 
 several weeks. 
 
 Another danger menaced them ; the French and 
 British fleets were out, and the risks were great 
 that their vessel might be attacked, in which case
 
 The Great Monsoon 67 
 
 they would all be made prisoners of war, and sent 
 no one could say where. To avoid this, and because 
 his crew was very sickly, and owing- to the delays 
 they had been subjected to they had run short of 
 food, the captain put in to one of the many islands 
 in the Indian Sea, called Johanna Island. Here 
 Mrs. Burgess was able to land, and, though the ac- 
 commodation was anything but luxurious, she was 
 thankful to rest, obtain fresh food, and recruit. She 
 wrote several letters to her brother, which were con- 
 fided to ships likely to touch at Madras ; but not 
 one of them reached its destination. Naturally Robert 
 was immensely excited, and would have given all the 
 world to have left the merchant vessel and gone on 
 board one of the men-of-war which were continually 
 crossing their path. He knew everything that could 
 be gathered concerning Hyder Ali, Tippoo, and the 
 French, and he then and there declared to his sister 
 that nothing would persuade him to go into his uncle's 
 office; he would either be a sailor or a soldier and 
 "lick" both Hyder Ali and the French. Of course 
 he had to restrain himself before his mother, but with 
 Susan he poured out his whole soul. 
 
 "You are a very silly boy," she assured him. "If 
 you go into my uncle's office your fortune is made. 
 Mother has often told me he is the richest man in 
 Madras. Look at all the money he has sent us! No, 
 you must be a good boy and do just as he wishes 
 you. Frank disappointed him by going into the Church ; 
 you must not do anything of the sort." 
 
 Susan was just an ordinary girl, neither better nor 
 worse than the usual run of girl. She had looked 
 forward to her life in India, as it was natural she 
 should, and she had felt glorified by her uncle's wealth.
 
 68 The Silver Hand 
 
 The long- s<;a voyage and her mother's illness had been 
 a sore trial to her patience, and, if the truth were told, 
 she had felt rather aggrieved by so many troubles. 
 Like most girls she had been building castles in the 
 air. She was young and quite good-looking, and people 
 had told her that she would be a great favourite in India. 
 Her mother had more than once hinted that she might 
 marry her cousin Felix, but she made up her mind she 
 would not have him ; it would be too dull. She was a 
 little girl when Felix was in England, and though he 
 was very kind, and gave her beautiful necklaces and 
 bangles, he had paid no further attention to her. So 
 Susan used to look at the stars, and dream of that lover 
 who was to come some day, and of all the good things 
 that she thought ought to be hers. That she was in 
 the world for any high or noble purpose never crossed 
 her mind. Her religion was just a regular routine; 
 she said her prayers, and went to church on Sundays; 
 she never told lies, nor, as far as she knew, did any- 
 thing wrong. It was natural and right, she thought, 
 that her brothers should give up everything to her. So 
 she lived her little life, careless and happy. Are girls 
 better or worse in these days than their little sisters 
 of a century ago? Who shall judge between them? 
 Certain it is that "To whom much is given, of her 
 shall much be required!" And girls to-day have advan- 
 tages far beyond anything that fell to the lot of their 
 grandmothers. 
 
 Such was the situation, then, a situation sufficiently 
 terrifying to even the strongest nerves, and one which 
 allowed but little place for confidence when the men in 
 positions of responsibility bethought themselves of the 
 menace it held for the many women and children in the 
 stricken city. Famine already stalked swiftly towards
 
 The Great Monsoon 69 
 
 them, pestilence must follow in its train, while the danger 
 from armed enemies was to be reckoned with. Well 
 indeed was it for Mrs. Burg-ess and her daughter that, 
 during their long voyage and those weeks on the island, 
 they were spared all knowledge of some events which so 
 nearly concerned them and of scenes in which they were 
 destined to play a part.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Life or Death? 
 
 For many weeks the child Myna, as Krishna had 
 named her, lay tossing on her bed of ferns and moss. 
 The princess came and looked at her and sorrowed, 
 she hardly knew why, but her soul loved the 
 child. She had brought a strange, undefined new 
 feeling into her life — a something which had not been 
 there before; and she would sit by the hour beside 
 her, laying leaves dipped in fresh water on the 
 fevered brow. She brought soft linen to wrap round 
 her, and with her fingers she pressed the juice of 
 luscious fruits into the dry mouth, and the child, 
 though apparently unconscious, showed that she was 
 aware of her presence and loved it. The fountains 
 of pain and joy seemed alike to be dried up — she shed 
 no tears, and her lips never smiled. She grew so 
 thin and weak that at last she lay quite still; only 
 the quick breathing and the wide - open eyes, over 
 which a veil seemed to be drawn, gave evidence of 
 life. A Brahmin, said to be learned in sicknesses of 
 all sorts, was brought to her. He squatted down 
 on the ground beside her, and after a time he made 
 signs over her, muttering incantations; but though 
 he came day after day she grew no better. All the 
 windows in the houses at Poona were either wide 
 open or closed by wooden shutters. Now the one 
 thing the child could not bear was darkness. If, 
 because of the heat, Krishna drew the shutters to, 
 
 70
 
 Life or Death ? 71 
 
 she would moan and fret until they were open again ; 
 so, to screen her a little, they hung- over the window 
 opposite the spot where she lay a screen of green 
 matting. She endured this better; but still she 
 was never really happy when she could not see the 
 sky. 
 
 The two Frenchmen who had arrived at Poona the 
 very same day as Scindia were soon busily engaged 
 reviewing the Mahratta troops and giving the military 
 instruction required. Captain Raymond de Senlis 
 was an experienced soldier, but young Andre de St. 
 Lubin had never seen a battle — he knew nothing of 
 warfare. But he was a good shot. He had lived 
 all his life in the old chateau in Brittany, surrounded 
 by woods, and, with the exception of the few hours 
 he spent in study with the village cure\ he hunted 
 wolves and wild boars, foxes, big and little game, 
 nothing came amiss to him. The seigneurs in the 
 neighbouring chateaux knew they were sure of a full 
 bag and a profitable hunt if they could get St. Lubin 
 to join their party. But he was poor and shy, and 
 after his grandmother's death he had lived a solitary 
 life in the old house with two servants, his old nurse, 
 and her husband. Business took him to Paris, and 
 there he chanced upon Raymond de Senlis. He was 
 only three-and-twenty, a big strong fellow, who had 
 never known a day's illness, longing for a new life, 
 something to carry off the superabundance of energy 
 for which he had no use. No marvel, therefore, if 
 he accepted the first offer which came to him. What 
 mattered it to him whom he served — Mogul or Mah- 
 ratta, they were all the same to him ! And Captain 
 Raymond took care to impress upon him that it was 
 for the glory of France. Besides, as he knew nothing
 
 72 The Silver Hand 
 
 of the tactics of war, he was going- out as a sort of 
 political agent. What that meant he did not enquire. 
 
 Raymond de Senlis was not so ignorant. He knew 
 that it meant the overthrow of the British and the 
 restoration of the French in India. The Mahrattas 
 were essentially unstable — the natural enemies of the 
 Mogul Empire. If they could crush the Mysores by 
 the help of the British, they would not hesitate to 
 become the allies of the British East India Company. 
 This was what Raymond was especially set upon pre- 
 venting. And he had arrived just at the time when 
 Warren Hastings was treating with the Mahratta Con- 
 federacy. It would be his aim and object to prevent 
 this alliance. Scindia was as cunning as the French 
 diplomatist, but he, too, had an object to attain : he 
 did not wish de Senlis and his companion to go over 
 to Hyder AH, which they most assuredly would do 
 if they suspected him of siding with the British. So 
 he fenced with him. He took his guests all over the 
 country, even up to Agra, which was his own especial 
 dwelling place. 
 
 One evening the three were riding past the small 
 wooden house which Krishna had chosen for her dwell- 
 ing place. It was on the outskirts of the town. The 
 sun was setting, and the crimson glow lighted up the 
 dwelling, pouring in at the open windows, showing the 
 minutest details of that bare interior. And yet the 
 three riders instinctively reined in their horses and 
 looked in, for a cry had arrested them, a shrill cry 
 as of a creature in pain, and illumined in the crimson 
 glow of that setting sun they saw the transparent body 
 of a child rise up, and extend towards them hands 
 so small that they might have been an infant's, and 
 the voice called: "Papa! Papa!"
 
 
 WITH THE < IIII. I) [N HIS ARMS HE WIN I AND STOOD A 
 I HE OPEN WIND! »W 
 
 .
 
 Life or Death? 73 
 
 " What is it? Who is it?" asked de Senlis. 
 
 " I wish I could tell you. It is a great mystery. 
 I found that child, or rather she came to me, on the 
 road. She mounted my horse, and I could not get 
 rid of her," said Scindia. "Come away!" 
 
 But still the cry went up: " Papa! Papa!" A woman 
 put her arms round the child as if to quiet her, but 
 in vain. Andre St. Lubin threw himself from his horse, 
 exclaiming: "If she be a living creature she belongs 
 to us, not to you;" and he ran into the house, and, 
 going up to the child, took her in his arms, saying in 
 French: "Little one, what ails you?" She was quiet 
 directly, and when Raymond de Senlis also appeared 
 she smiled, such a wan smile, and stroked the sleeve 
 of his coat. 
 
 "You are right," said de Senlis; "she is no Indian- 
 born child, neither is she French, though she under- 
 stands us. She has been stolen." 
 
 She lay quite still and contented in Andre's arms, 
 her eyes wandering over his half- military, half-civil 
 uniform. 
 
 De Senlis had travelled much, and he recognized at 
 once that she was suffering from low fever, caught 
 probably by the marshy lands through which she had 
 travelled, by exposure, and from shock. It was evident 
 that she did not remember what had happened to her, 
 and yet there was a vague yearning in the eyes, which 
 looked up at him from cavernous depths. It was 
 almost as if she recognized him. After that one 
 piteous cry of "Papa! papa!" she did not speak 
 again — she evidently could not. Krishna came for- 
 ward, and would have taken her out of Andre St. 
 Lubin's arms, but the thin fingers clutched at his coat 
 sleeve and de Senlis, turning to Prince Scindia, said:
 
 74 The Silver Hand 
 
 "Of course I cannot speak with any certainty, but I 
 believe I could do something- for that child. I have 
 a medicine which was given me by a native doctor 
 when I was dying of fever, and after taking it for a few 
 days the fever left me. Of course I was a man, and 
 she is a child; but if you would like me to administer 
 it to her I will do so. If nothing is done for her, in 
 twenty-four hours she will be dead. It is wonderful 
 she is still alive." 
 
 "The child is nothing to me," answered Scindia. 
 "I do not know who she is. Surely she does not 
 belong to our nation. The life of a child is not worth 
 much when she has neither father nor mother to grieve 
 when her spirit departs out of her body. Why hold 
 it back?" 
 
 A feeling of anger, which he could not account for, 
 stirred Andre" St. Lubin. He had never held a child 
 in his arms before. Was it the weakness, the utter 
 helplessness of that frail thing which appealed to him? 
 She had dropped into a sort of sleep ; it might be 
 the sleep of death for aught he knew. Scindia was 
 growing impatient. "Give her back to the woman," 
 he said, "and come away." 
 
 But Andre" answered: "Fetch the medicine, my 
 cousin; I will remain here till you come back." 
 
 "Better not," said Monsieur de Senlis. "If she 
 died, and there is every probability she will, they 
 might say we killed her, and there would be a fine 
 row. You cannot know how such a thing will be 
 taken." 
 
 "Get the medicine, my cousin, I will run the risk," 
 said Andre. 
 
 All this time Krishna had kept silence, as if she 
 did not understand. But she understood quite well.
 
 Life or Death? 75 
 
 She had not lived in Madras ten years without under- 
 standing - French and speaking - a sort of patois. 
 
 So now she laid her hand on de Senlis's coat, and 
 said in French: "Fetch the medicine." 
 
 " Come, prince. I have an idea after all that the child 
 belongs more to my people than to yours. I wonder 
 how you came by her? At any rate I'll give her the 
 medicine, and that as quickly as I can. She's going 
 fast." With that he left the house, Scindia following, 
 scowling at Krishna as he passed her. He had not 
 recognized her as the woman who had forced the child 
 upon him, because, whenever strangers entered the 
 house, she carefully drew her sari over her face. 
 
 When the prince and de Senlis had disappeared, 
 Krishna came close to Andre and said in broken 
 French: "You will save her, and great good will 
 come to you. You will be richer than any of your 
 people, and more fortunate: she is blessed." 
 
 " Who is she?" asked Andre. 
 
 "That I may not tell you," answered Krishna. 
 "But you will know one day, if she lives. And she 
 will live. See how she sleeps, she who has not slept 
 for many weeks!" 
 
 It was truly curious the interest this child had 
 suddenly awakened in this young man, who had had 
 no affections in his life, save for the old grandmother 
 who had brought him up, and the village cure. Once 
 Krishna said: "Shall I take her from you?" but he 
 shook his head. In an incredibly short space of time 
 a lad came in by the open door, put a small packet 
 into Krishna's hand, and ran out again. Not willingly 
 will an Indian linger in the house over which death 
 hovers. Krishna brought the packet to Andre. He 
 read the direction, written in French by his cousin,
 
 76 The Silver Hand 
 
 then looked round the room, which, save for the bed 
 on the floor, and here and there a strip of matting, 
 was quite bare. "Water and a bowl," he said. 
 Krishna disappeared, and returned with a pitcher of 
 water and a wooden bowl. He shook his head. How 
 should he make her drink? Her head had drooped 
 upon his shoulder, like a bird's. It is wonderful where 
 the fount of tenderness springs from ! It is like love, 
 heaven-born ; and Andre, looking down at the dying 
 child in his arms, loved her. 
 
 The Bretons are devout and very religious. They 
 have infinite faith, they believe in the efficacy of prayer, 
 and in miracles ; and Andre had lived all his life in 
 this atmosphere of belief. He, the seigneur of the 
 village, had gone to mass every Sunday, as far back 
 as he could remember; religious doubts had never 
 troubled him; and so now, dipping his finger in the 
 pitcher, he signed the child with the sign of the cross, 
 in the name of "the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost ". " Pauvre petite, no one has thought of praying 
 for her," he murmured, and he said an Ave Maria. 
 
 He had hardly finished when she stirred, opened her 
 eyes, and looked at him. Instantly he took one of 
 the small packets contained in the large one, and 
 dropped the contents into her half-open mouth. Then, 
 holding out his hand: "Water — quick!" he said, and 
 Krishna poured water into the hollow. It was time, 
 for the child could not swallow— her tongue and lips 
 were alike parched. But, drop by drop, with infinite 
 patience, he let the water fall into her mouth, and 
 as he did so he noticed that the white powder dis- 
 solved. At first she made no attempt to swallow, the 
 muscles seemed by degrees to relax, and there was a 
 slight gulp, which increased gradually. Neither he nor
 
 Life or Death? 77 
 
 Krishna ever knew how long a time they spent thus; 
 so engrossed were they that they failed to notice the 
 entrance of the old Brahmin and of the princess, who 
 stood watching the scene in breathless silence. The 
 princess's sweet face was very sad, for, as we have said, 
 she, too, loved the child. There are some creatures 
 born to be loved, from whose very presence love seems 
 to emanate. So it was with this little one. At last 
 Krishna noticed the Brahmin, and instantly prostrated 
 herself before him. 
 
 "Will she die or live, thou holy one?" she asked. 
 
 "Dost thou not see death is passing over her?" he 
 answered. 
 
 The sky was no longer red, but luminous with a 
 silvery sheen, and looking down through the wide-open 
 window was a star, so large and so brilliant it might 
 have been the star of Bethlehem. 
 
 " He has saved her, and she will save him; so have 
 the gods willed it," said the old man, stretching out his 
 arms and bowing his body to the earth. The princess 
 and Krishna followed his example, but Andr£ rose, and, 
 with the child in his arms, he went and stood with her 
 at the open window. He held her high, so that the 
 evening breeze swept round and about her; the white 
 linen sari covered her from head to foot; her face was 
 the face of a corpse. Her eyes were wide open ; she 
 had seen the star; she was smiling at it. The only 
 particle of colour about her was the long, golden hair, 
 which streamed over the man's arms like a shower of 
 gold ; and as he held her thus, he sang in a voice so 
 strong and pure, it floated from earth to heaven. True, 
 the words were in an unknown tongue, in the old Latin 
 of his Church, which he alone understood, Miserere 
 met Deus, but the prayer note was there, and surely it
 
 78 The Silver Hand 
 
 ascended to heaven on the wings of love. When he 
 had finished he carried the child back to her couch of 
 moss and dried ferns, laid her down, and lo! she was 
 asleep with a smile upon her lips, breathing softly.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good 
 
 Thus it came to pass that those who should have 
 formed but one family were scattered far away from 
 each other, ignorant of what was befalling" the one or 
 the other, helpless, with nothing - to do but to wait. It 
 is difficult to conceive such a position in these days of 
 steam and electricity. Patience and silent endurance 
 must have been more easily learnt and far more prac- 
 tised then than now ; long days and months of waiting 
 must have trained the soul. There was not the same 
 rush to and fro; women and girls were found at home 
 sometimes; it was not necessary to have a fixed day to 
 receive one's friends and acquaintances, one did not 
 go from door to door and find them closed — " Madame 
 was not at home ", though a shadow behind a curtain 
 told a different tale. Friendships were possible in those 
 days — to-day friends are few and far between. Still, we 
 have our compensations. What would not Frank and 
 Felix have given to have known that Mrs. Burgess and 
 the young people were safe in harbour. That they had 
 left England they had been duly informed by a letter 
 which had been posted when they touched at the Cape, 
 but since then they had heard nothing, and week suc- 
 ceeded week of such utter public misery in Madras that 
 they at times almost forgot their personal troubles. 
 Almost all the business houses were closed, many of 
 
 70
 
 80 The Silver Hand 
 
 the warehouses were turned into hospitals ; gaunt figures 
 crept about the streets or lay down in some corner to 
 die. A famine in the East, with a mixed population of 
 Hindus, Mohammedans, and Europeans to deal with, 
 is surrounded with difficulties with which the ordinary 
 European mind cannot grapple. The religious question 
 is paramount, the question of loss of caste, of defile- 
 ment, crops up every moment. For the first time in his 
 life Felix felt the powerlessness of wealth. Until the 
 ships came in again gold could not buy the necessary 
 food ; everything that could be done to minimize the 
 evil was done, but it seemed an impossible task, a 
 herculean labour. The military and the civil govern- 
 ment joined hands, public and private charity did their 
 utmost, but in vain. There was no food, therefore men 
 and women had to die. Frank, Felix, and Phyllis 
 Rayner worked from early morning till far into the 
 night. 
 
 One day Phyllis met Frank Burgess and stopped him, 
 which was an unusual thing for her to do, for she was a 
 shy girl. She had a difficult life with an invalid mother 
 and an incompetent father. She had come over to 
 India when she was only sixteen, a pretty, incapable 
 girl — incapable because she simply did not know what 
 to do. She saw that everything was wrong, and did 
 not know how to make it right. A sick mother and 
 a drunken father were enough to dishearten any girl. 
 She knew no one; the only person who noticed her, 
 and guessed at her trouble, was John Bennett. He 
 occupied rooms in the same block as the Rayners, and 
 sometimes they would meet as she crossed the court- 
 yard; and every Sunday she was to be seen in church, 
 but always alone. As time went on, John Bennett 
 saw a troubled look in the blue eyes, which had been
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good 81 
 
 so clear and innocent-looking when she first came from 
 England. 
 
 "It's a shame that such a young thing like that 
 should have trouble," he thought. " She ought to have 
 nothing but play and fun. Precious little fun she has, 
 I'm thinking." 
 
 As he was not married he had no domestic troubles; 
 and had time to interest himself in his neighbours' 
 affairs, and listen to the gossip which his own khidmut- 
 gar was only too ready to pour into his ears. So it was 
 that he learned that Rayner's business was a losing 
 concern, that in consequence he both gambled and 
 drank, neglected his wife and daughter until they had 
 barely the necessaries of life. Then it so happened that 
 for two or three mornings he met Phyllis crossing the 
 courtyard at the hour when he was going to business. 
 She looked happy, and when he bowed to her she 
 smiled, which she had not done of late. So the next 
 morning he ventured to stop her and ask after her 
 mother. A cloud gathered on the young face, and 
 tears came into her eyes. 
 
 "She is very ill to-day," she answered. "Father 
 vexed her last night, and she had no sleep; then I am 
 obliged to leave her. You see, the business is so bad 
 I must do something, so I go to Mr. Dawson's every 
 morning to teach their two little children. I have been 
 very fortunate to get the work. Good morning, Mr. 
 Bennett!" And she went on her way. 
 
 "Plucky girl!" muttered the manager; "I wonder 
 why such a fellow as Rayner comes to have such a 
 daughter ! " 
 
 The same evening he told Frank Burgess of the sick 
 woman, and Frank found his way to the house, and, 
 as it was his duty, he ministered to Mrs. Burgess's 
 
 ( B 946 ) 6
 
 82 The Silver Hand 
 
 spiritual needs and heard her story. "Then," as Felix 
 said with a quaint smile, " Frank turned father, mother, 
 and daughter over to me; and I passed them on again 
 to Bennett, who took charge of Rayner, placed him in 
 his own office, and finally established the whole family in 
 a bungalow just outside the town, reserving two rooms 
 for himself and his own servants, with the right to pay 
 the larger portion of the rent." Matters had gone well 
 for the Rayners ever since. Mrs. Rayner's health had 
 improved, and Phyllis had recovered her good looks. 
 As for Bennett, he was glad to have the semblance of a 
 home and someone to speak to after business hours. 
 
 Such was the state of things when the monsoon came 
 and all the misery it entailed. It is astonishing how in 
 the time of national trouble social barriers are broken 
 down, and a feeling of equality springs up between 
 people who before have almost ignored each other's 
 existence. The British colony, though numerically 
 smaller than the native population, was by its energy 
 and common sense the dominant spirit. The sense of 
 duty and Christian charity caused the Europeans to 
 strive to the best of their ability to assist their more 
 ignorant and suffering fellowmen. In doing this they 
 drew nearer one to another. Meetings were held, 
 consultations as to the best way of distributing what 
 food could be procured, and gradually, very gradually, 
 because it was not customary in those days, women's 
 help was asked. 
 
 There were so many Indian women and children 
 utterly neglected, because of the rules which cut them 
 off from the outside world and hedged them in ! Two 
 or three English women alone answered to the call. 
 
 "We will give what we can, but you cannot expect 
 us to go amongst those dreadful people," was the daily
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good s 
 
 answer Frank received. He had become fairly intimate 
 with the Rayners, and one day he had complained to 
 Mrs. Rayner of the difficulty of getting at the native 
 female population. "You women," he said to her, 
 "will not hold out a helping hand to your poor sisters, 
 because they are not of the same colour as yourselves. 
 Surely this must change some day. The women are 
 dying, and the children are dying, not from starvation 
 only, but from ignorance. We can do something for 
 the men, but the women, we cannot get near them." 
 
 " What would you have us do?" asked Mrs. Rayner. 
 
 He rose, and a strange light came into his eyes, a 
 light which is rarely seen except when a soul is roused 
 to action, to the carrying out of some noble deed for 
 God. Such is the soul of the enthusiast. And Frank 
 Burgess was an enthusiast. "Do!" he exclaimed. 
 "Go into the highways and bid them to come in." 
 He said no more, but took up his hat and went out. 
 He had not seen Phyllis Rayner standing behind the 
 purdah which separated the living room from the 
 vestibule. She had been on the point of entering 
 when his words arrested her; she just caught the 
 light of his eye, the enthusiasm of his words, then 
 she shrank back into herself. 
 
 The next morning she waylaid him. He was looking 
 tired and ill. Indeed, their work and the anxiety of 
 their private lives was telling upon both the young men; 
 more perhaps on Frank than on Felix, because he was 
 unaccustomed to the climate. 
 
 Phyllis noticed how ill he looked this morning, but 
 she only said: " I heard you talking to mother yester- 
 day, Mr. Burgess, and I have been turning over all 
 night in my mind what we could do. It is not easy, 
 you know." She looked up at him frankly. She had
 
 84 The Silver Hand 
 
 lost her shyness now, because she had forgotten her- 
 self. 
 
 " Easy! I should rather think not," he said; " indeed 
 I do not know if it is possible," he added despondently. 
 The enthusiasm of the day before was over. * "The 
 spirit is ofttimes willing, but the flesh is weak." 
 
 Then the woman stepped in. "Oh, yes! I think we 
 might do something; not much, but a little, perhaps." 
 
 He looked at her and smiled. "She is only a girl 
 still," he thought indulgently. " Tell me what you 
 propose." 
 
 "It is very hot out here," she said. "If you will 
 come into the bungalow I will tell you. I talked it over 
 with mother, and she thought something might come 
 of it." 
 
 They were walking under a long avenue of trees, in 
 an opening of which stood the bungalow. A few minutes 
 brought them to it, and Phyllis, to avoid entering upon 
 the real object she had in view, talked of the weather, 
 and the possibility of ships coming in, bringing letters, 
 &c. "I have almost lost hope," said Frank wearily. 
 "It is incomprehensible that we should be so long 
 without news." 
 
 "After all, you have one thing to be thankful for," 
 said Phyllis; " they will escape all we are going through." 
 
 " I repeat that to myself at least half a dozen times 
 a day," said Frank. "It is something to be thankful 
 for. But now tell me what is your plan?" 
 
 They had reached the veranda, which ran round three 
 sides of the bungalow, and Frank let himself fall into a 
 lounge, but Phyllis stood straight up before him, colour- 
 ing slightly. 
 
 " It is such a little thing, now it comes to the telling," 
 she said, " only it struck me you were right, and
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good 85 
 
 that women in this country especially ought to help 
 women. I saw a woman dying" under the trees the 
 other day. She had a child hanging on to her, a 
 wretched little creature, and she held it out to me, 
 muttering some word in her own tongue. I saw she 
 wanted me to take the child ; so I took it, and 
 when she saw it in my arms she gave a ghastly 
 smile, closed her eyes, and died. Oh, it was 
 terrible!" 
 
 "What we see all day and all night," said Frank. 
 "What have you done with the child?" 
 
 " I could not bring it into the house," she said, " so 
 I got a basket, wrapped it up, and made a corner for 
 it in that little shed;" and she pointed to a wooden 
 lean-to. "Then I fed it. I thought it would die; but 
 not at all, it means to live. It is such a queer mite. 
 Will you come and look at it?" 
 
 "No, thank you!" said Frank. "I am no judge of 
 babies, especially black ones. What has this to do 
 with your plan for helping me?" 
 
 "Oh, don't you see?" she answered with a little 
 impatience. "You men are really very dense some- 
 times. I beg your pardon," she added quickly, "but 
 it is so simple. What I have done for one, surely I 
 can do for three or four." Then, forgetful of everything 
 but the new plan, she continued: "There is a long 
 shed a few hundred yards behind Mr. Carmichael's 
 factory. He is not using it now. I asked Mr. Bennett 
 if he would lend it to us; we could easily make it into 
 a sort of nursery for these waif and stray children, 
 instead of letting them lie dying about the streets or 
 in dark corners. What do you think?" 
 
 " Think?" answered Frank. " Why did we not think 
 of it before? I tell you if only you women would exert
 
 86 The Silver Hand 
 
 yourselves you would solve with the greatest ease 
 problems which puzzle us men." 
 
 "Perhaps you might not like it. You might think 
 us rather bold," said Phyllis with a smile. 
 
 "Oh no! we shall not; we shall be very glad," he 
 answered. (Alas, poor man, he did not see into the 
 near future!) And then they began to talk of ways 
 and means. 
 
 " How will you get the food to feed your children?" 
 he asked. " We cannot suffice for our own households, 
 the servants are half-starved. We Europeans come 
 better off than the natives, because we can eat flesh, 
 fish, and fowls ; but it makes my heart ache to see the 
 natives stare at the forbidden food. What will you 
 do?" 
 
 "What is the use of asking? I shall trust, and do 
 my best," she answered. "Only ask Mr. Carmichael 
 for that warehouse and straw; the rest I will see to." 
 
 Frank looked at her, rather astonished at her quiet 
 assurance ; she seemed to have grown suddenly. 
 
 "Very well, I will find Felix at once and tell him 
 of your plan." 
 
 "Not mine, but yours," she answered. "Did you 
 not say the women ought to take charge of their fellow- 
 women and the children? I should not have thought 
 of interfering if you had not said that." 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Rayner, I think you are deceiving 
 yourself. What about the baby you were hiding away 
 in the shelter?" She blushed rosy red. 
 
 "That was nothing," she answered, "just one little 
 child." 
 
 "Well, goodbye!" And he held out his hand, 
 adding, as if it were an afterthought: "Does your 
 mother know?"
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good 87 
 
 "Oh yes! I should not have spoken to you without 
 telling - her." 
 
 "As soon as I have seen Felix I will let you know. 
 There need be no delay. Once more, goodbye, and 
 thank you!" And putting up his big white umbrella 
 he was starting bravely to get back to the town, when 
 a buggy drove up to the bungalow, and who should 
 get out but Felix, so wan and thin and careworn, so 
 unlike the prosperous, wealthy young man of only six 
 months ago! 
 
 " How do you do, Miss Rayner?" he said, holding 
 out his hand. " I heard you were out here, Frank, so 
 came out to take you in. It is much too hot for you 
 to go back to town on foot. You will be getting sun- 
 stroke." 
 
 "It is much too hot for you to think of returning, 
 even in the buggy. You must remain here until sun- 
 set," said John Bennett, coming out. "There is not 
 much to eat anywhere, but we can share and share 
 alike. At any rate you will not be burnt up." 
 
 And so it came to pass the buggy was sent away, 
 and they all made themselves comfortable in hammocks 
 and lounges during those almost intolerable midday 
 hours. As John Bennett had said, there was very little 
 substantial food, barely enough to satisfy a child, but 
 they drank strong coffee, of which he happened to have 
 laid in a good store, and then they talked earnestly of 
 the new plan. At first neither Felix nor John Bennett 
 would entertain the idea at all. The difficulties they 
 raised were innumerable, till at last Phyllis said quietly: 
 "After all, if it were easy there would be no necessity 
 for doing it. Why do we argue at all? Let me just 
 try it. Anyhow, whether it succeeds or fails, it will 
 be according to God's will. Give me the room, Mr.
 
 88 The Silver Hand 
 
 Carmichael, and as much straw and hay, or anything 
 of the sort you have at your disposal, and mother and 
 I will do the rest." 
 
 "You may have the warehouse, and welcome," an- 
 swered Felix, "but I do not believe you will need it 
 for a week." She made no answer. 
 
 In the cool of the evening they all went down to 
 inspect the premises. It was a big, bare room on the 
 ground floor, with shuttered windows, and just outside 
 there was a well, which Phyllis pointed out triumphantly 
 to Frank. 
 
 " I had that well in my eye," she said, " when I asked 
 for the place. You will see that it will answer the pur- 
 pose." 
 
 How it got about they never knew, but the following 
 day the clean straw had scarcely been spread over the 
 floor when there came creeping in women with naked 
 children in their arms, or rather the skeletons of chil- 
 dren, scarcely human in their ugliness. Some of the 
 women just laid them down and went, others snatched 
 at the morsel of bread which was offered them, and 
 cried out for more. 
 
 "This will never do," said Frank; "the women 
 must not be allowed inside, and we can only take in 
 living children, not dead." 
 
 Phyllis had succeeded in enlisting two native women; 
 they were pariahs and had lost caste. One of these 
 they stationed at the entrance to receive the children, 
 and Frank fetched a young English doctor, who certi- 
 fied that at least each child had still a chance of life, 
 and so passed it on. After a certain hour the doors 
 were closed to all-comers. Then, to Phyllis's despair,
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good 89 
 
 there arose from outside cries and moans, prayers for 
 admittance. 
 
 "You must not open," both Frank and the young 
 Dr. Austin assured her. "You have twelve now; you 
 cannot manage more." And reluctantly she yielded. 
 Twelve when there were scores dying on the roadside ! 
 But the men decided that twelve, and no more, should 
 be taken for the present. The great difficulty was to 
 procure efficient help ; the native women were so utterly 
 ignorant, and the European ladies stood aloof. 
 
 At the end of the first day Mrs. Rayner decided it 
 could not be done. Phyllis's heart sank. Tears filled 
 her eyes as she looked hopelessly round on those for- 
 saken scraps of humanity, a few of whom, eased and 
 comforted, were sleeping. 
 
 " We have taken them in ; we cannot turn them out, 
 mother," she said. 
 
 "Something must be done; I cannot have you kill 
 yourself," answered her mother. And, worried and 
 worn herself, she left the place. 
 
 "You see," said Phyllis, "what we women are 
 worth. We cannot hold our own ; we have no power 
 of organization." 
 
 "Because you have not been trained," answered 
 Frank. "You have done wonders to-day, handicapped 
 as you have been." 
 
 " And yet I am to give up. What use is it all?" 
 
 "Wait! As you say, you cannot turn these children 
 out. I think I know a woman, a widow, who would 
 take charge for the night and relieve you. To-morrow 
 we shall do better. I have had two hammocks fixed 
 up in a closet close by. Bennett and I will spend the
 
 90 The Silver Hand 
 
 night there, and the two Indian women must remain. 
 To-morrow we shall, I am persuaded, get others thank- 
 ful to have food. I will go and talk to your mother. 
 You must allow it does not look very hopeful; but 
 I am afraid I put the idea into your head, and both 
 Felix and I have determined to stand by you ; so don't 
 be downhearted, but have faith." 
 
 He had hardly ceased speaking when a cart drove 
 up to the door. Two Indians, evidently belonging to 
 some gentleman's house, got out, and, seeing Frank 
 and Phyllis in the doorway, they salaamed, and pre- 
 sented the latter with a letter, saying: "For the 
 Missy Sahibah Rayner." 
 
 "It is from the mother of my little pupils," she 
 said, opening it. In a minute she lifted her eyes, half- 
 dimmed with tears, to Frank's, saying in a low voice: 
 "You are right, what we lack most is faith," and she 
 handed him the letter: 
 
 "Dear Miss Rayner, 
 
 " I have heard of your venture, and I think 
 you are very brave. I wish I could join you, but I have 
 my husband and children, so it is impossible; but what 
 little I can do, I will. I am sending you parcels of old 
 linen and children's clothes, also flour, and boxes of 
 biscuits, and I have given order that all the scraps 
 of bread and broken meats are to be taken down to you 
 morning and evening. My husband is prepared to 
 help with money, if it is needed ; but I know, alas ! that 
 money cannot buy what you most need. I give you 
 carte blanche to send to me for anything you need. 
 I shall send you a can of milk from our own cows 
 night and morning. I am making your venture known, 
 and I am sure we women, who have our homes and
 
 Out of Evil cometh Good 91 
 
 little ones to see to, will stand by you and give you all 
 the material help we can. 
 
 "Yours very sincerely, 
 
 "E. Dawson." 
 
 Phyllis had turned away from Frank whilst he was 
 reading- the letter, because she could not keep the tears 
 back, but she soon steadied herself, and by the time 
 he had finished he heard her giving - orders for the 
 unpacking of the cart. She came up to him with one 
 of those smiles which spring from the heart, and lighten 
 up lips and eyes. "I am so happy!" she said. At 
 that moment Felix and John Bennett came in, and 
 when they saw what good fortune had befallen Phyllis, 
 they rejoiced with her, and helped to store the goods, 
 whilst Phyllis and the women fed the children with the 
 new milk. It was a pathetic scene, but one which 
 angels surely looked down upon with heavenly joy, 
 and for the time being that woman and those men 
 forgot something of the sorrows which had befallen 
 them, and in their hearts thanked God for His 
 manifold mercies.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The Silver Lining 
 
 Happiness! how we all crave after it, and how seldom 
 we recognize its presence, even when it is with us. 
 "Man never is, but always to be blessed", the poet tells 
 us. Not perhaps till long years have passed over our 
 heads does the memory of certain days and certain 
 hours come back to us, and we sigh with the remem- 
 brance of past happiness. Of course we have all red- 
 letter days in our lives, and we recognize them as such, 
 but they do not last ; the heart could not bear the strain 
 of long-continued joy or the pressure of overmuch 
 sorrow. But it is the quiet striving after right doing, 
 the forgetfulness of self, the love for and of those 
 around us which creates lasting happiness ; the love of 
 God made " manifest within us". 
 
 So it came to pass that in the midst of pestilence and 
 famine those three young people, Felix, Frank, and the 
 girl Phyllis, were happy. They rose in the morning 
 with gladness, and they lay down at night tired, yet 
 with contentment in their hearts and a smile upon their 
 lips. From the day of the opening of the nursery those 
 three were fast friends; they had the same interests, 
 they worked hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. That 
 most beautiful and purest of affections had come to 
 them, friendship. They were three, not two, but it 
 made no difference ; perhaps it was because Phyllis was 
 a girl, and the two men were both united in their 
 
 92
 
 The Silver Lining 93 
 
 chivalrous devotion to her, that she neither felt nor 
 made any difference between them. They worked to- 
 gether like comrades, they talked one with another, 
 and ofttimes they prayed together. So, thus shared, 
 the daily tragedies, the ennuis, the difficulties of life 
 vanished. Of all sublime things true friendship is 
 surely the sublimest. They had been units before, now 
 they were a trio ; there was no more solitude, they 
 talked and walked together and shared each other's 
 burdens, but the wan, weary look was no longer 
 stamped on Felix's face, and Phyllis had lost the care- 
 worn expression which was marring her youth. Yet 
 the task they had taken upon themselves was no sine- 
 cure; by night and by day they laboured against fearful 
 odds, in that nursery of human suffering. Lookers on 
 marvelled. 
 
 To keep the number down to one dozen infants 
 was impossible; the children lay at their door; they 
 had to take them. And, strange to tell, from the 
 first, gifts poured in ; there was no lack of food or 
 clothing. Whence much of it came they did not 
 know. The doors and windows were kept open by 
 day and by night, and in the morning, almost with the 
 rising sun, Phyllis would come down and find big and 
 little parcels lying outside on the ground waiting for 
 her; sometimes it would be a single article of clothing, 
 sometimes fruit or a bunch of flowers; it mattered not. 
 Rich and poor alike gave of their wealth or of their 
 poverty to the children's refuge. After the first, the 
 women never sought to enter, but Phyllis often saw 
 a dark face gazing longingly at the waking and the 
 sleeping children, and she would smile and point, first 
 to one, then to another, untjl the mother's cry of 
 pleasure would tell her she had found the right one,
 
 94 The Silver Hand 
 
 and she would take it in her arms and let the hungry 
 mother hold it to her bosom for a moment. But they 
 never tried to keep them ; they gave their children back 
 into Phyllis's arms, and kissed her hands as she took 
 them. One thing struck everyone, namely, that from 
 the time the children's refuge was opened, not only 
 was the mortality among the children less, but it 
 decreased among the women. That deadly despair 
 had left them, hope had been born again. They no 
 longer lay down to die; they made a last effort; a 
 morsel of food sufficed them. It was as if they said : 
 "The child will live, and so must I." There was 
 food in the refuge which the children could not eat, 
 the women took it in secret, defying the law which 
 forbade them to eat the Christian's food. The men 
 would not so defile themselves, but the women, well 
 — life was sweet, and Allah was merciful. 
 
 "They cannot be much longer; I reckon that, within 
 a week, two of the ships will enter port. What do 
 you say, Bennett?" 
 
 "They certainly ought to," said John Bennett; "but 
 there is no saying in these days. What with the French 
 and the Dutch on the seas, and Hyder Ali and Tippoo 
 on land, we're outnumbered." 
 
 "If only that treaty with the Mahrattas were con- 
 cluded!" said Felix. "I can see no reason why it 
 should hang fire as it does." 
 
 " Shall I tell you the reason?" said Bennett. 
 
 "Certainly, if you can," answered Felix. 
 
 "Because of the fortress of Bednore," said Bennett. 
 " It rankles in the souls of both Hyder and his son 
 that we have possession of the place. The Mahrattas 
 are equally jealous that we hold it."
 
 The Silver Lining 95 
 
 "Then there never will be peace," said Felix. " Old 
 Matthews is not likely to give up his eagles' nest." 
 
 " Certainly not without a struggle," answered Ben- 
 nett. 
 
 "There come Frank and Phyllis," said Mrs. Rayner, 
 stepping out on to the veranda where Felix and Mr. 
 Bennett were sitting. "What a hurry they are in! it 
 is too hot even now to walk so fast." 
 
 "Why do they walk at all?" said Felix. "The 
 buggy was in the shed." As he spoke he rose and 
 went to meet the two. 
 
 " Anything up?" he called out. 
 
 "I should rather think so," was the quick answer. 
 "The ships are sighted." 
 
 "Hurrah!" shouted Felix; and he took Phyllis's 
 hand and shook it until she called out: "Gently, 
 please!" 
 
 "Pardon!" he said, almost with a boyish glee, "I 
 am so happy." And putting her arm in his, he con- 
 tinued: " I do not think you can understand how tired 
 I am of all the misery of the last year; sometimes I 
 think it must be a horrible nightmare, and that I shall 
 wake up to find my father, my little Ursula, and Eustace 
 with us again." 
 
 "Indeed I do understand you," she answered. "One 
 gets so tired of sorrow, it seems so unnatural to be 
 always sad. Never a day goes by but I find mother 
 weeping over Eustace's picture. If only he had not 
 gone out that day!" 
 
 "Fate!" said Felix; "but you see we have drifted 
 back to our 'horribles'." They had wandered down 
 a little path, and were turning back, when they were 
 surprised at seeing a tall youth advancing towards 
 them. At the same moment Frank called out: "Come
 
 9 6 The Silver Hand 
 
 in, you two loiterers, we are going to have some 
 food, and then we will go down and see the ships 
 come in." 
 
 "Frankl" And the boy, for he was little more than 
 a boy, sprang forward, ran up the steps of the veranda, 
 and threw his arms round Frank Burgess's neck. 
 
 "My dear boy, my dear Robert, where have you 
 sprung from?" said Frank; but he did not give the 
 boy time to answer. His usually calm face was work- 
 ing with emotion, and his voice trembled as he added, 
 addressing himself to no one in particular: " Friends, 
 this is Robert, my brother Robert;" then, turning to 
 the lad, he asked huskily: "Where is mother?" 
 
 "At Johanna Island." He paused for a second, 
 then in a low voice added: "You must forgive me, 
 Frank; I could bear it no longer. I ran away." 
 
 "You mean to tell me you ran away and left our 
 mother, Robert?" said Frank sternly. 
 
 "Don't be hard upon him, Frank; let us hear wha<. 
 he has to say for himself first. Come and sit down, 
 Robert; I'm your Cousin Felix, and I'm awfully glad 
 to see you. I'm sure the others can't be far away." 
 
 Robert took his cousin's hand and shook it heartily. 
 " I'm afraid they are, though," he said; "but they are 
 all right, Frank," he added, turning to his brother. "I 
 was really no good to them, and I had a sort of feeling 
 that if I made a move it might be the right thing. 
 I would have enlisted on a man-of-war if it had not 
 been for mother." And he looked at Frank, as well as 
 to say, " and I'll do it yet." 
 
 He was a well-grown lad of seventeen, with a clear, 
 open face, firm chin, and well-cut features. He had a 
 shaggy mane of brown hair, which needed clipping, but 
 he was good to look at, and Frank felt proud of him ;
 
 The Silver Lining 97 
 
 besides, there was the feeling that one at least was 
 given back to him. So his whole soul relented, and 
 his heart went out to Robert. Throwing his arm round 
 his shoulders, he said: " If you assure me they are all 
 right, that is something in your favour, you young 
 rascal; but why on earth did you run away?" 
 
 "Because if I had waited to ask mother I should 
 never have got away at all ; and, Frank, do you know, 
 I heard that you were all dying of pestilence and 
 famine in Madras, and I could not bear it! I felt I 
 must come to you." And he turned and looked into 
 Frank's face with eyes which were very moist. 
 
 "All right, lad!" said Frank, "go on." 
 
 "There was nothing to do in that beastly island," 
 continued Robert, "and I had got into the way of 
 boarding all the ships as they came in, if I got a chance, 
 and finding out where they were bound for; but I had 
 never had the luck to hit upon one going to Madras. 
 You see, Johanna is a little out of the straight road." 
 
 "Look here, Frank, I won't have the lad asked 
 another question till he's rested and has had some 
 food," interrupted Felix. " It's not common hospi- 
 tality, and, if we are nothing else, we are hospitable in 
 India. He assures us that my aunt and Susan are 
 safe; now we must kill the fatted calf for him, after- 
 wards he shall tell us the remainder of his story. For 
 the nonce you are a hero, Robert." And Felix clapped 
 the lad on the back. 
 
 "How awfully good you are, cousin Felix! I am 
 so sorry, I heard " 
 
 " Never mind what you have heard, let us make the 
 best of the present moment; besides, I must be quick, 
 and you too, Bennett; we must be there when the ships 
 come in. I expect you put off, Robert?" 
 
 ( B 'J46 ) 7
 
 98 The Silver Hand 
 
 "Yes, I got the captain to let me come in by the 
 pilot's boat. There were crowds waiting. I heard 
 someone say there would be a row when the unloading 
 began. You see, it is one of your own ships, Felix, 
 with rice and flour, and all manner of stores. I can 
 tell you we have had to run for it; we were very nearly 
 caught by a French cruiser." 
 
 "Only one more question, Robert — why did you not 
 bring mother and Susan?" asked Frank. 
 
 "Because there was no accommodation; the captain 
 would not hear of it, and mother is so awfully ill on the 
 sea, I was afraid to risk it. The captain was awfully 
 good; he just took me because I told him who I was, 
 and how long we had been on the journey. He said 
 you had all had trouble enough, and it might be a relief 
 for you to see me, so he just smuggled me on board, 
 and here I am, jolly glad to be here too." And he 
 looked round on them all, beaming. 
 
 " And we're jolly glad to have you!" said Felix. 
 
 "Now to supper," said Bennett; and they all ad- 
 journed to the dining-room, where Phyllis and her 
 mother had prepared a meal as best they could for 
 so many guests. 
 
 But that is a common thing in India, where everyone 
 more or less keeps open house. The meal was not half 
 through when a messenger came from the town to say 
 that the ship was in port, and that Felix's and Mr. 
 Bennett's presence was immediately required. So with- 
 out delay all the men took their departure. Robert 
 would not be left behind. " I'm only too glad to have 
 found my land legs again," he said. Phyllis drove 
 down with them as far as the refuge, where it was her 
 turn to spend the night. 
 
 " What's that place ? " asked Robert.
 
 The Silver Lining 99 
 
 "Time enough to tell you that to-morrow," said 
 Felix, as he lifted Phyllis down. 
 
 "It is my palace, Robert," she said. "I will invite 
 you in to-morrow. Good night, all of you!" 
 
 She disappeared, and they all drove away with lighter 
 hearts than they had known for many a day. There was 
 a rift in the cloud which had hung so long over them, 
 and they saw a glimpse of a silver lining. They hardly 
 realized what a difference Robert's coming would hence- 
 forth make to them. It was a new element; he had to 
 be thought of, he had to be looked after, and the two 
 young men had their hands already full ; so had Mr. 
 Bennett, but somehow women always seem to have time, 
 and so it came to pass that Robert gradually fell into 
 Phyllis's hands, and she had to find employment for him. 
 He was really a good lad, and fell to following her about 
 like a great big mastiff. He fetched and carried; he was 
 always ready to lend her a helping hand, though at first 
 he was horrified at the work she was doing. 
 
 "Girls in England don't work like this," he said to 
 her one day. "Susan thinks she is coming over to 
 dance and amuse herself. Her fine frocks will not 
 stand this sort of thing." 
 
 " She will not be asked to do it," answered Phyllis. 
 " Let us hope both pestilence and famine will be over by 
 the time your mother and sister arrive." 
 
 " I wonder what mother will say when she hears 
 that uncle is dead and cousin Ursula lost! I'm awfully 
 sorry, you know, and I think Felix a brick, or rather a 
 h ro, going about doing his work, helping everyone, 
 never thinking of himself. He's awfully good to me 
 too; he has never once reproached me for running away 
 from mother, though Frank has. Frank says it was 
 cowardly; but you see, Miss Rayner, mother would have
 
 IOO 
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 wanted to come too, and she really could not; neither 
 she nor Susan could have roughed it on board that 
 boat, and I felt I really could not stand it any longer 
 on that dreadful island ! " 
 
 "Nevertheless I am sure you ought to have stayed 
 with them. What will they do all alone ? " 
 
 "Better than if I had stayed," answered Bob. 
 "Mother will come to some decision because of me; 
 she'll try and get off. But I am really sorry for Felix 
 and Frank when she does come. She'll just fret and 
 fume, and shut herself up in her room, and think herself 
 terribly ill-used; and as for Susan, when she puts on 
 black frocks instead of her pretty new ones, she'll just 
 cry her eyes out. By Jove, it won't be lively ! I hope I 
 shall be a long way off before that happens." 
 
 " Off! Where are you thinking of going to now ? " 
 
 " I don't know," he answered; " but I mean to enlist 
 and be a soldier. I will not go into the office. I know 
 Frank will be angry, but I can't help it." 
 
 " You have not tried," said Phyllis. " I do not think 
 you ought to say that you will not do as you know 
 your brother wishes until you have tried. I know 
 it will vex them both very much, and they have had 
 so much to try them already. You ought to consider 
 that." 
 
 "I suppose I ought," answered Bob, "but what 
 would be the use of wasting time ; they would turn 
 me out, even if I did not go of my own accord." 
 
 "Still, it would be better; you will at least have 
 shown a desire to please them." 
 
 Impatiently Bob turned away, but a few days later 
 Mr. Bennett came back to the bungalow more annoyed 
 than Phyllis ever remembered to have seen him. 
 
 " It's too bad," he said, puffing away at his pipe
 
 The Silver Lining 101 
 
 after dinner; "they are all youngsters together. Mr. 
 Felix has but one idea — to give every man who asks 
 for it a berth. He's sent that young Master Bob 
 into my office to be trained, as if I had not something 
 else to do to keep things going. If this continues we 
 shall be landed in queer street before we know where 
 we are." 
 
 " But perhaps he may turn out all right," Phyllis 
 said. 
 
 "No, he won't. I know the look of the lad. He 
 just hates the whole thing, and he'll chuck it before 
 the month is out." And Phyllis in her heart knew 
 he was right. Still, she was glad that Bob had made 
 the effort.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 The Awakening 
 
 From the hour when Andre St. Lubin laid the child 
 down, and she fell asleep, a change came over her. 
 In the middle of the night Krishna was surprised by 
 the sound of scratching outside the window. Krishna 
 opened the shutter, and there was Andre standing 
 by the ledge. He had discovered that Krishna both 
 spoke and understood French ; so, speaking in that 
 language, he asked: "Is she still sleeping?" Krishna 
 nodded assent. Opening the shutters a little wider, 
 by the light of the silver moon Andre could see Ursula 
 as he had left her. Then he gave Krishna a smaller 
 packet than the one he had administered, saying: 
 " If you can, put it on her lips and moisten them 
 with water, but above all things do not wake her." 
 Having said this he went away, and Krishna did as 
 he had bidden her. Throughout the whole of the 
 following day, and the succeeding night, the same 
 treatment was continued, only instead of water they 
 gave her milk And so the fever left her gradually, 
 little by little, till the dryness yielded to a soft moisture, 
 and the little hands lay quiet on the silken sheet the 
 princess had thrown over her. 
 
 Many were those who came to see her, but neither 
 Raymond de Senlis nor Andre would allow anyone 
 save the princess into the room. "All depends upon 
 her waking," said Raymond. "It is not an ordinary 
 
 102
 
 The Awakening 103 
 
 fever she has had; she has been drugged. " It was 
 to Andre he said this, as he stood looking down upon 
 the child; he had not noticed Krishna standing close 
 behind him, and he did not see the start she gave 
 and the look of fear which came into her face. 
 
 "Drugged! who would drug a child like that?" 
 exclaimed Andre. 
 
 "That I cannot tell," answered his cousin, "but 
 she has been drugged with opium, and so skilfully 
 that she has not herself been aware of it, though 
 she must have been kept under the effect of the drug 
 for a long time. It has acted upon her whole system, 
 but more especially upon her brain. I doubt if she 
 remembers anything in the past ; it may come back 
 to her partially by and by. This breakdown is caused 
 by her having been deprived suddenly of the drug; 
 the want of it brought on the fever, which was acceler- 
 ated by fatigue." 
 
 "And now what will happen?" asked Andre. 
 
 " She will awake in a normal state; the craving will 
 have left her. She will be very weak, but the poison 
 is driven out of her system. But if it is administered 
 to her again in the very smallest quantity, she will 
 die." 
 
 They both turned sharply round, startled by a sudden 
 noise behind them. Krishna had been to fetch water 
 and had let the pitcher fall on the stone floor. It 
 lay broken at her feet, and the water was spilt. As 
 the two men left the room Andre said : " We will come 
 back in an hour. My cousin thinks she will awake soon. 
 Have some warm milk ready to give her." 
 
 To their astonishment, as they went out, the old 
 Brahmin was at the door. He threw up his arms 
 and cried: "Blessed is he who restoreth life; he shall
 
 104 The Silver Hand 
 
 do great things on the earth ; the people shall fall 
 down and worship him." And as he spoke he bowed 
 himself to the earth, touching the ground with his 
 forehead. 
 
 With some difficulty they succeeded in getting 
 through the crowd and finding their way to Prince 
 Scindia's palace. 
 
 " I must really get him to explain to the people 
 that we are not gods, but simply men, who perhaps 
 know a little more than they do, but still are not 
 even medicine men." 
 
 " Do you not think you ought to tell the prince 
 about that child ; she is evidently either French or 
 English. I should say the latter, though she both 
 speaks and understands French," said Andre. "To 
 my mind that native woman knows all about her. 
 Cannot you get Scindia to tell you how exactly he 
 came by her? If that woman drugs her now, she 
 will, you say, kill her. Yet who is to prevent her? 
 She is evidently entirely in her hands." 
 
 "There is nothing to be done," answered de Senlis. 
 " It is neither your business nor mine, and in a month 
 at latest we shall be away from here. The prince told 
 me this morning that he has decided to make an attack 
 on Fort Bednore, and he wants us to accompany him, 
 as the infantry will have the greatest share of work ; 
 he and Hyder AH have for once agreed to drive the 
 English out of the fort." 
 
 " I am glad we are going to see some active service 
 at last," said Andre\ "Do you think it probable we 
 shall unearth the English?" 
 
 "There is a fair chance of so doing," answered 
 de Senlis. "Old General Mathews feels so secure 
 up there, they say he is off his guard." 

 
 The Awakening 105 
 
 "And what has Prince Scindia to do in the matter?" 
 asked Andre. 
 
 "Why, the old Begum of Bednore is some relation 
 of his and lives here in Poona since the English gave 
 her her liberty. She is immensely rich and has promised, 
 ' I am afraid to say how many lacs of rupees to Scindia, 
 if he will get her reinstated. She knows Hyder will 
 never put her on the throne again, but she imagines 
 Scindia will; and he humours her because 1 * of her 
 rupees and the plunder which is still concealed in 
 Bednore, unknown to anyone but herself. So, my dear 
 Andre, you may expect your bapteme de feu in the 
 course of a few weeks." 
 
 They had reached the palace, and were ascending 
 the steps leading to the veranda, when the graceful 
 figure of the princess appeared. She was dressed after 
 the usual fashion, but instead of the sari being white 
 it was in a sort of diaphanous material of the brightest 
 blue, fastened on her head with silver pins. It was 
 wound round her waist and limbs so mysteriously 
 that only those who were familiar with the intricacies 
 of this peculiar garment could tell where it began 
 and where it ended. Half-veil, half-shawl, the wearer 
 could screen her face or show it at her own will and 
 pleasure. Over her shoulders and bosom, reaching to 
 her waist and covering her arms, she wore a sort of 
 jacket, called chathe, handsomely embroidered in silver; 
 altogether she was a very brilliant little person. The 
 sari was thrown across the lower part of her face, 
 but her eyes were visible, and they smiled on the 
 two men as she passed them. 
 
 " I wonder whether it would be against all rules 
 of the country to speak with the princess. I be- 
 lieve she is the only person who could really solve
 
 106 The Silver Hand 
 
 the difficulty. Someone must be set to watch 
 Krishna." 
 
 " I cannot see how it is to be managed," said 
 de Senlis. "You speak so little Hindustani." 
 
 "But you speak it well and fluently; why should 
 you not tell her?" said Andre\ 
 
 "With Krishna always there on guard!" said 
 de Senlis. 
 
 "I will manage that," answered Andre. "If the 
 child is awake when we go back you must find that 
 you have forgotten the medicine; you will then ask 
 permission of the princess to send Krishna to fetch 
 it. The princess is sure to go back and tell Scindia 
 what has been discovered. He will doubtless send for 
 us, and so a watch will be set on Krishna. It is the 
 only thing we can do, unless the child be removed to 
 the palace." 
 
 "That is impossible; it would be against their reli- 
 gious rules. She does not belong to them. She can 
 neither eat nor drink, nor can she dwell, under the 
 same roof with them," said de Senlis. 
 
 "Then we must leave her in the hands of God and 
 the blessed saints," said the young man. 
 
 But there were influences at work of which they 
 knew not. The first part of their plan only was carried 
 out. When they returned to the house the}' found 
 " the child " — for between themselves they called her 
 nothing else — lying wide awake, holding the princess's 
 hand ; and, strange to tell, she was weeping. Slowly 
 the tears ran down the small, pale face, and when 
 Andr£ stooped over her she turned away and would 
 not look at him. Even for the princess she had 
 lost her sweet caressing ways, and looked at her as 
 if she would have asked: "Who are you?"
 
 The Awakening 107 
 
 "Did you not know her before her illness?" asked 
 de Senlis. 
 
 The princess made a sign in the negative. "The 
 prince brought her to me; he found her on the road. 
 I had never seen her." 
 
 "That accounts for it," said de Senlis. "She has 
 come to herself now and she does not know where 
 she is ; her little heart is troubled. Does she know 
 Krishna?" At the name the child turned quickly 
 round with a little cry, but the woman had fled. 
 
 "I thought as much," said de Senlis to Andr£; "I 
 will find her." He lifted the purdah and went out, the 
 child's eyes following him. Crouching in the farthest 
 corner of the long, dark passage he caught a glimpse 
 of Krishna. He went up to her and said in her own 
 language: "Come, I must speak to you; get up." 
 She obeyed with cringing obedience. 
 
 " You have nearly killed that child," he said. " Why 
 did you do it?" 
 
 "I would not kill her; she is my life. I sought 
 to save her," said Krishna. 
 
 "With opium?" he said. "Do you not know that 
 kills?" 
 
 " I know it makes us forget, and gives sweet dreams, 
 and sleep," she answered. 
 
 "Not to a child like that," he said. "What has 
 a child to forget? Where have you stolen her from? 
 Who are her people?" 
 
 Then, looking up with a bold, evil face, Krishna lied. 
 "I do not know," she said. 
 
 "We shall all know soon," answered de Senlis. 
 " Her senses have come back to her; she is remember- 
 ing Listen, she is calling for you." And through the 
 partition they heard the child's voice calling: " Krishna !"
 
 io8 The Silver Hand 
 
 "Let me go to her," she pleaded. "I love her as 
 my own soul." 
 
 De Senlis hesitated; after all there was no hurry 
 about finding out her parentage, the great point was 
 to prevent any further use of the opium. Probably the 
 child would soon speak for herself. So he answered 
 her: "You say you love the child; well, give me up 
 all the opium you possess, or I will have her removed 
 from this house and you shall never see her again. As 
 far as I can judge she belongs to my people, and I will 
 take care of her. There are plenty of honourable 
 French women in Bombay to whom I can give her 
 in charge." He had hardly uttered the words before 
 Krishna was crouching at his feet, holding up a dirty 
 packet. 
 
 "Take it, take it all," she cried, "but do not send 
 the child from me; she does not belong to your people." 
 
 "Then she is English, and you have stolen her; for 
 the present I will take charge of her, and you shall 
 obey my orders. When I want to know more con- 
 cerning her, I shall ask, and you will answer me. 
 At present the chief thing is to restore her to health. 
 She will remember by degrees things of her past life, 
 but you will not encourage her to talk of it. Are her 
 people rich?" 
 
 "Dead, all dead!" she answered. 
 
 De Senlis was silent for a moment, then he said: 
 "Go to her, but remember I am on the watch." 
 
 Krishna rose, drew aside the purdah, and went in. A 
 cry greeted her, and as she bent over her, the child's 
 arms were around her neck, and they crooned together. 
 De Senlis heard the child say: "Where am I, Krishna? 
 Who are all these people?" and she began to weep 
 again.
 
 The Awakening 109 
 
 "Comfort her and tell her she is safe," said de 
 Senlis. Then, bending- over her, he said: Ma petite, 
 tell me your name." She looked at him and answered 
 without hesitation: "Ursula". 
 
 "Then, my little Ursula, you have been very ill," 
 he said, "but you are better; do not ask any questions, 
 but lie still and be happy." She was not to be so easily 
 quieted ; Andre had gone to the window and stood 
 facing her. 
 
 " I know him, I have seen him," said Ursula eagerly. 
 "Take me up and carry me," she begged. And gently, 
 as he had done the night before, Andre lifted her in his 
 arms and carried her to the open window, where she 
 could see the sky. After a few minutes the child's 
 brow puckered. " Why do you not sing?" she asked. He 
 lifted up his voice and sang the "Te Deum Laudamus", 
 and before he had half finished she was asleep again. 
 "That is as it should be," said de Senlis. "She 
 will tell her own story soon." But he was mistaken; 
 Ursula's physical recovery was rapid, but she was 
 perfectly silent concerning her past life. They could 
 not make out whether she remembered or not. She 
 spoke French and Hindustani, but never English. She 
 was sweet and caressing to the princess, but she 
 shrank from the prince. She never really seemed per- 
 fectly happy except with Andre^ and he adored the 
 child. 
 
 De Senlis laughed at him. "I cannot help it; she 
 fascinates and charms me," he said; "I suppose it is 
 from the fact of my never having had any affections. 
 I remember neither father nor mother; my grandmother 
 was a stern old woman, very proud, very poor, bitter 
 against all the world. She never kissed me, she would 
 not suffer me to visit my neighbours because she said
 
 no The Silver Hand 
 
 I had not decent clothes, and that I would disgrace the 
 family. When she died, I found old family jewels and 
 sold them. I also sold outlying portions of the estate; 
 that is what I had been doing when we met, my cousin. 
 I had no companions, no friendships; I had never taken 
 a child in my arms, I had never kissed one, until this 
 child Ursula held out her arms to me, and I took her 
 to my heart. She is lonely and I am lonely ; we are 
 well matched." 
 
 "Who knows, she may prove a golden egg to you. 
 I am persuaded she comes of a good stock. Krishna 
 will speak one day," said de Senlis. 
 
 "As far as I am concerned she may keep silence for 
 ever. Some day, if no one claims her, I shall carry 
 my little sweetheart away to the old castle in Brittany, 
 and she will bring sunshine into those forsaken cham- 
 bers, and the sound of laughter will be heard once more 
 in its halls and passages; she will drive away the 
 ghosts." 
 
 Raymond de Senlis had listened to him with aston- 
 ishment. "Well," he said when Andr6 ceased speaking, 
 " I can only say I think you are mad, the child has 
 possessed you." 
 
 " Why should she not?" said Andrei "She is so pure, 
 so sweet, when I look at her I feel as if God had sent 
 one of His holy angels to dwell among us. I could no 
 more think an evil thought or do an evil deed in her 
 presence than in that of the ever-blessed Virgin. Ah, 
 my cousin, let be! It is a wicked world, you tell me; 
 I have not had much experience ; at the present hour 
 I see no evil, for I look at all things through the eyes 
 of a little child." 
 
 " Well, you must amuse yourself, and she is an inno- 
 cent plaything; I might not say as much if she were
 
 The Awakening m 
 
 a few years older." And de Senlis went out to find 
 the prince, thinking to himself: "Those Bretons are 
 a strange people." 
 
 Andre" remained thoughtful and silent for fully a 
 quarter of an hour after de Senlis had left him. He 
 had lived so much alone, so much with nature, wander- 
 ing sometimes from the dawn of day till sunset through 
 almost impenetrable forests, his dogs at his heels, his 
 gun on his shoulder; he was almost like a primitive 
 man in his solitude. He had wanted food, so he shot 
 hares, rabbits, and birds, and he gathered herbs which 
 were good for man, and they had sufficed him until 
 one day he went out into the world, and the world laid 
 hold on him. But down in the depths of his soul there 
 had remained, from that long indwelling with nature, 
 a love of the beautiful, and an undeveloped tenderness. 
 This child had come to him as a revelation, so he wor- 
 shipped her. Morning, noon, and evening he went 
 to see her, taking her fruit and flowers. She was 
 always glad, and welcomed him, would let him pick 
 her up and carry her in the early mornings, or after 
 sunset, into the open country. Krishna would follow; 
 she never lost sight of the child ; her one fear was that 
 someone would carry her darling away. Strange to 
 say, the only person she was not jealous or afraid of 
 was Andre. Perhaps it was because he never ques- 
 tioned her; he was content to wait for a revelation 
 which he knew must come some day, and which did 
 not signify to him. What matters it to the true lover 
 what his beloved one is or has been? She is herself, 
 and for herself he loves her. By degrees Ursula gained 
 strength ; one day she walked to meet him, laughing and 
 holding out her hands as a child taking its first steps 
 to meet its father. From the first he insisted on her
 
 112 
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 being- treated as a European child; she had full liberty, 
 only she wore the Indian dress, the sari. The princess 
 had brought her many yards of the finest linen, in bright 
 colours, blue and red of different shades, which with 
 her ropes of pearls gave her a certain air of distinction. 
 
 During the great heats Andr<£ would sit beside her, 
 telling her wonderful stories of his old home, quaint 
 legends of fairies which are so familiar in Brittany. 
 There is no country so rich in folklore as old Brittany. 
 Faith still lives in the green valleys and the rocky coast 
 of this ancient kingdom of France, even as loyalty to 
 their rightful king died hard in the chateaux and the 
 cottages. 
 
 They were very happy those two, so happy that the 
 past, which she was beginning to remember, receded 
 more and more into the background of Ursula's memory. 
 She learnt to speak and understand French as if it had 
 been her own tongue. One day Andre brought her a 
 very beautiful missal, richly illuminated, to show her, 
 and to his surprise she pointed out the letters, calling 
 them out rightly. Krishna was not in the room at the 
 time, and, looking up at Andr6, Ursula said: "You 
 taught me that long, long ago." 
 
 "No, Ursula, I never showed you this book before," 
 he said; "I never taught you your letters. Can you 
 read?" 
 
 She looked puzzled. "Yes, you did," she said; 
 " I remember quite well, I sat on your knee and 
 you taught me. Krishna did not like it," she added 
 triumphantly. 
 
 From that day he taught her to read and write. At 
 first she was puzzled ; it was not quite what she had 
 already learnt; she did not know that the difference lay 
 between the French and the English tongues.
 
 The Awakening 113 
 
 Those pleasant days of study, when Ursula rapidly 
 acquired proficiency and Andre played the part of patient 
 and devoted teacher, were destined to be interrupted 
 before long. De Senlis and his friend were soon to be 
 engaged in sterner work. 
 
 (B946)
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Hyder Ali 
 
 The Mahrattas were still vacillating as to whether they 
 should join Hyder Ali or accept the British proposals. 
 Raymond de Senlis was impatient at Scindia's indeci- 
 sion, and threatened him more than once that if he did 
 not make up his mind he would leave him and join his 
 fellow-countrymen who were serving under Tippoo or 
 Hyder Ali. 
 
 But, as often happens in this world, matters settled 
 themselves. One evening there arrived at Poona two 
 messengers direct from Hyder Ali, requesting to have 
 speech with the two Frenchmen who were then re- 
 siding in the peshwa's palace. 
 
 "They are my guests; what do you desire of them?" 
 asked Prince Scindia. 
 
 The messengers refused to deliver their message to 
 anyone save the Frenchmen themselves, so at last 
 Scindia went himself to find de Senlis and Andre, and 
 conducted them into the hall where the messengers 
 were waiting for them. As soon as they appeared the 
 Indians prostrated themselves before them, and from 
 beneath their mantles they drew forth bags of gold, 
 which they laid at their feet, the chief man saying: 
 
 "These are the gifts 'the conqueror of the world', 
 the great and mighty Hyder Ali, King of Mysore, sends 
 to your excellencies, beseeching you to come to him 
 without delay, for he is visited with a sore affliction, 
 
 114
 
 Hyder Ali 115 
 
 and he has heard that you are possessed of much 
 knowledge in the art of healing - . He is in great pain, 
 so that his spirit can no longer rest in his body, but 
 will be driven out. The disease which has taken hold 
 of him is one to which common mortals are not subject, 
 the raj-pora. The medicine-men of our own people can 
 do nothing for him, charms and incantations are of no 
 avail. He has heard that here in Poona there are two 
 strangers who can bring the dead back to life, and can 
 ease the sharpest pain ; therefore he has sent us to fetch 
 you, and, we pray you, come with all speed. Horses 
 are waiting along the road to take you to the king. 
 The gifts he has sent by us are of no account. Ask 
 what you will, it is yours; and if you heal him his 
 treasury will open its coffers and pour forth gold and 
 jewels such as the world has never seen before." 
 
 " And if we fail to heal him we shall be at his mercy, 
 and he will cause us to be tormented and slain," said 
 Raymond. " Everyone knows the vengeance meted out 
 by Hyder to those who fail to accomplish his will." 
 
 "You need not fear. See, we have brought you a 
 safeguard — not papers only, but Hyder's own ring. 
 With that you can travel from north to south, east to 
 west, of the kingdom of Mysore." 
 
 "But we know not the disease you speak of. How 
 shall we cure him?" said Andre. 
 
 The messengers grew fierce with anger, and, looking 
 at Prince Scindia, they said: "If they will not come, 
 Hyder will send out his soldiers, and they will ravage 
 the land and burn and slay whatever comes within their 
 reach." 
 
 "We do not fear you," said Scindia proudly. 
 "Nevertheless I would not have Hyder think I wish 
 him to pass away into the unseen without the help he
 
 1 16 The Silver Hand 
 
 asks for; therefore I will plead with my friends and 
 allies for him." 
 
 Then he turned to Raymond, and begged him to go 
 with the messengers. 
 
 "It is to your own interest," he said, "and to mine. 
 If you will not, Hyder will think I have prevented you, 
 and his anger will be fierce against me. You can, 
 moreover, claim what you will of him, and he will 
 surely give it you." 
 
 "Let us go," said Andre. "Why should we not 
 make hay while the sun shines? Let us take the good 
 things the gods send us." And laughingly he pointed 
 to the bags of gold, adding: "Why, with that alone I 
 could build up the old chateau at home." 
 
 Raymond de Senlis looked at him, smiling. "That 
 is your hobby," he said. "Well, you shall have your 
 way. We will go back with you," he said, turning to 
 the messengers. "When do we start?" 
 
 "Now, without delay," was the answer. "Hyder 
 Ali is watching the sunrise and the sunset on your 
 coming." 
 
 "Good! We will be ready in an hour." And Ray- 
 mond pointed to the sundial in the courtyard. Then 
 he set out with Andre, and the two crossed over to the 
 side of the palace which had been given up to them. 
 Behind them came two servants of Prince Scindia 
 carrying the money bags. 
 
 "This is not exactly what I expected," said de 
 Senlis, "but it is not a bad beginning, and we do not 
 know what it may lead to." 
 
 " I wonder how we got the reputation of being 
 healers?" said Andre. 
 
 "That is one of the wonderful things of this country; 
 everything becomes known," said de Senlis.
 
 Hyder Ali 117 
 
 "Then how does it happen no one can tell, or at 
 least they seem not to be able to tell, whence that 
 child comes?" 
 
 "You use the word 'seem'," answered de Senlis, 
 " and you do well. I doubt their being as ignorant as 
 they seem. Now, what shall we do with all this gold?" 
 
 As he spoke he took up one of the bags, cut the 
 string which bound it, and poured the oontents on the 
 floor where the servants had deposited them. It was 
 a dazzling sight, and the two cousins looked at each 
 other in astonishment. 
 
 "If we had come for gold only, we might set sail 
 for home at once," said de Senlis. 
 
 "True," answered Andrd, "but it would be rather 
 mean to take all and give nothing in return. We'll 
 stay and fight a few battles for them." 
 
 " I am of your opinion," said his cousin. 
 
 "What shall we do with all this?" asked Andre, 
 pointing to the gold. 
 
 " First fill our pockets," answered Raymond, and he 
 proceeded to do as he said. Andre" imitated him. 
 
 "We cannot overload ourselves," he said when they 
 had put a fair amount also into their saddle bags. For 
 a few seconds they both stood looking at the two re- 
 maining bags. Suddenly Andre said: "I will take 
 them to Krishna. She will store them away for us." 
 
 De Senlis shrugged his shoulders. "So it is ever 
 in life," he said; "too much or too little. It will be 
 as safe with her as anywhere." 
 
 "Then I will go at once and bid the little one good- 
 bye. Will you not come also?" asked Andrei 
 
 "I will follow you, but first I must speak with the 
 prince." 
 
 So Andre went alone. When he gave the gold bags
 
 n8 The Silver Hand 
 
 to Krishna he said: " If anything should happen to me, 
 remember my share is for Ursula; and, Krishna, I have 
 never asked you who she is, but if you know, I pray of 
 you to give her back to her own people." 
 
 He made so light of his departure that Ursula did 
 not realize what it meant. "You will be back soon?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " Oh yes!" was the answer; and he kissed her hands 
 and stroked her hair, and when de Senlis came riding- 
 round, with the syce bringing Andre's horse, she bade 
 them both farewell with a smiling face, and as they 
 rode away she stood at the house door and waved her 
 hands until they were out of sight, then, to Krishna's 
 astonishment, she wept. 
 
 In vain she sought to comfort her, but she would not 
 be comforted. Turning away from her, and going into 
 the house, she threw herself on the bed of moss, and 
 lay there, refusing the food Krishna offered her. There- 
 fore the Indian woman went to the princess, saying: 
 
 "She will neither eat nor drink, only weep, so she 
 wi41 be sick unto death again, and there will be none 
 to heal her." And she sat on the floor and wrung her 
 hands. So the princess arose, and, accompanied by 
 Krishna, went down to the house and sat beside Ursula, 
 and in her sweet, soft language she comforted her. 
 
 "He will return," she said, "and it will grieve his 
 great heart if his bird is sick and cannot welcome him. 
 When my Scindia leaves me I also am sad ; it is the 
 lot of every woman, and I weep, but not for long. I 
 make pilgrimages, I offer gifts to the Buddha on his 
 behalf, and so I live and hope, and when he returns I 
 array myself in a soft, new sari, and I bathe in scented 
 rosewater and anoint my hair; and my heart is glad 
 when he tells me I am more beautiful than when he left
 
 Hyder Ali 119 
 
 me. Such is love! Thou art but a little child, but the 
 child's heart and the woman's heart are very near akin 
 if we keep our love pure ; so thou must arise and come 
 with me, and we will make sweetmeats, and thread 
 beads, and wander in the gardens, calling - the birds, 
 and they will come and perch upon thy shoulders and 
 whisper to thee of their mate who has flown away, 
 and of the empty nest, which in due time will be 
 filled again, and then there will be joy. They will tell 
 thee all this, so wilt thou learn to live." And she lifted 
 her up from her couch, smoothed her tumbled sari 
 and her rumpled hair, threw her arm round her, and 
 led her out beneath the trees, and in the cool of the 
 evening they wandered along the river banks with 
 other maidens and little children. For the princess 
 loved children, and offered gifts daily to the gods, of 
 fine wheaten flour, and fruits, praying that a child might 
 be given to her. And so the pain died out in Ursula's 
 heart, and she smiled again, and at night she knelt and 
 said the prayer he had taught her, adding thereto one 
 of her own making, that the dear Christ would watch 
 over her friend and bring him home again ; and so she 
 slept in peace. 
 
 Raymond de Senlis and Andre St. Lubin, when they 
 arrived at the sick man's bedside, were greeted as if 
 their presence alone was sufficient to heal him. That the 
 patient was dying, de Senlis saw at a glance. Hyder 
 Ali was over eighty years of age, and was suffering from 
 a disease called the raj-pora, to which only the high and 
 noble were supposed to be subject. In reality it was 
 nothing more nor less than an enormous carbuncle, in 
 the present case in such a state of decomposition that it 
 was hopeless even to think of recovery. To alleviate 
 the agonizing pain was all de Senlis could hope to do.
 
 !20 
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 "You must keep silence. If you tell him he must 
 die he will kill you," said Hyder's best friend and bio- 
 grapher, Meer Hussein. 
 
 " Nevertheless he will know it, and I do not think 
 he will kill me," answered the Frenchman. Then he 
 dressed the king's wounds very carefully with an oint- 
 ment he had brought with him, in which were strong- 
 opiates. 
 
 When he had finished, the old man looked up at him 
 and said: " I am better." 
 
 De Senlis made no answer. 
 
 " I am better," repeated the king, still fixing de 
 Senlis with his great black eyes, and those around 
 him put on cheerful countenances and said one to 
 another, so that he might hear: "The crab will die, 
 but the king will live." 
 
 Still de Senlis did not speak. 
 
 " I shall surely live, and not die. The pain has left 
 me. Is it not so, stranger?" 
 
 " In the grave there is no pain," answered de Senlis. 
 
 The attendants looked at each other fearfully. 
 
 The fierce eyes of the old man glared angrily. " Fetch 
 i lac of rupees and my collar of emeralds," he com- 
 manded. He was obeyed. They were laid on his 
 couch, within reach of his hand. "They are yours; 
 take them and heal me," he said, looking at de Senlis. 
 
 " I am neither God nor Allah," was the quiet answer. 
 " I cannot give you life when the angel of death calls 
 you." 
 
 " I have not heard him," answered Hyder. 
 
 "He comes like a thief in the night," said de 
 Senlis. 
 
 The old man turned his face to the wall. Suddenly 
 he looked round at Andre. "And you," he said, "can
 
 Hyder Ali 121 
 
 you do nothing? You are young. Have you no new 
 drug which may stay the evil?" 
 
 " I have not even as much wisdom as my cousin," he 
 answered. 
 
 "Then, if you can do nothing for me, why did you 
 come?" asked Hyder. 
 
 " Because you sent for us, and because your servants 
 said you would slay them if they did not take us back 
 with them." 
 
 "And now what prevents my slaying you?" said 
 Hyder. 
 
 "There is nothing," answered de Senlis, "only I 
 do not think you will. I have given you ease, and if 
 you will obey me you will have no more pain, and you 
 will not know when the end comes." 
 
 Hyder stared fixedly at him, then he said: "I will 
 not kill you, and I will make you rich if I die without 
 pain. You hear, Meer Hussein? You will see that 
 justice is done." 
 
 " I will see to it," answered his friend. 
 "Now, what shall I do to meet this foe and not 
 shrink from him?" Hyder asked. 
 
 De Senlis hesitated a moment, and then answered : 
 " Wash and be clean." 
 
 As he gave utterance to these words there arose from 
 all the native physicians and the attendants an ex- 
 clamation of horror, but Hyder, almost meekly, asked: 
 "How can I wash and be clean with running sores. 
 I should die if I were moved." 
 
 "Trust yourself to us," said de Senlis, touched at 
 the helplessness of the old man. "Only order your 
 servants to bring a bath, abundance of water, and 
 clean linen. We will serve you and you shall have no 
 pain, and afterwards you will feel refreshed, and your
 
 i22 The Silver Hand 
 
 senses will come back to you as to a young- man in his 
 prime. 
 
 " Nevertheless I shall die?" he asked questioningly. 
 
 " In peace and comfort, when the time comes, 
 like a child falling- asleep," de Senlis said reassur- 
 ingly. 
 
 "So be it," said the king; and he ordered the bath 
 to be brought, and fresh linen, and he turned everyone 
 out of the room except the two Frenchmen, and they 
 performed their self-imposed task. 
 
 They bathed his limbs, they dressed his wounds, 
 they swathed his whole body in fine linen, then they 
 laid him back in a clean bed ; they cut and combed his 
 hair and beard, and all this they did so rapidly and so 
 gently that the sick man did not once call out, and 
 when he lay propped up on his pillow de Senlis adminis- 
 tered to him a sweet draught. He was content, and 
 said with assurance: " I shall surely live, and not die." 
 Then the two Frenchmen called in the attendants and 
 bade them clean the room. 
 
 When this was done, Hyder's friend and attendants 
 were admitted to see him, and they were astonished. 
 "He is no longer an old man; his youth has come 
 back; he will not die," they said; and Hyder looked up 
 at de Senlis for a sign, but there was no sign; so he 
 lay back on his pillows and repeated prayers and invo- 
 cations on his fingers, and his people did likewise. 
 When he had finished he called the chief men of his 
 army round him, and with much clearness and decision 
 he commanded that two thousand cavalry should at 
 once be dispatched to ravage the country of the Poli- 
 gars, and that five thousand horse should be sent for 
 the like purpose to Madras. Then he took a little 
 mutton broth and lay down to rest. That same night
 
 Hyder Ali 123 
 
 his ever-victorious spirit winged its flight to paradise. 
 So died Hyder Ali, the founder of the kingdom of 
 Mysore. 
 
 At this same time Madras was threatened with serious 
 calamities. The French kept appearing and disappear- 
 ing along the coast; but, strange to say, they remained 
 inactive, and after the famine allowed the town to be 
 in a great measure revictualled from the Cicars and 
 Bengal. A few frigates would have sufficed to compel 
 a surrender through famine, but they let the opportunity 
 slip by. 
 
 The probable cause of this oversight was the state 
 of Hyder's health. Tippoo was engaged in opposing 
 the advance of the British under General Mackenzie 
 on the Malabar coast, so his hands were full. Indeed 
 he was so eager to drive the British out of the country 
 that he attacked them at a small seaport town called 
 Paniany. For this sudden attack Mackenzie was wholly 
 unprepared. He had not had time to put the place in 
 defensive order when the enemy, under the command 
 of French officers, attacked him on four sides at once. 
 The sepoys were driven in and four guns taken at the 
 first attack before the British troops had had time to 
 get under arms. Things were beginning to look badly 
 for the glory of Britain when suddenly, to the sound 
 of pipes and pibroch, the gallant 42nd Highlanders 
 advanced to the charge and drove the French and 
 Mysorians before them at the point of the bayonet. 
 A terrible slaughter ensued, and Tippoo was forced to 
 retreat, leaving only killed and wounded behind him. 
 Almost at the same time Tippoo received the news of 
 his father's death, and though he was the acknowledged 
 heir, he had brothers and cousins, and it behoved him 
 to look after his inheritance. So he turned his back
 
 124 The Silver Hand 
 
 on Paniany and hastened to secure the munsnud and 
 the treasury. 
 
 " There is no reason why we should return to Poona," 
 said de Senlis to Andre a few days after the last 
 honours had been bestowed upon the remains of Hyder. 
 I have just heard that Scindia has removed with his 
 whole household to Agra, his own capital. You do 
 not perhaps know that the Confederacy is divided into 
 several kingdoms, independent, yet united as a whole, 
 and that they make war as they choose. Since Scindia 
 has decided to accept a treaty of peace with the English 
 we have nothing further to do with him. The English 
 are our natural enemies, and we came over as agents 
 of the King of France to destroy their supremacy; we 
 must therefore unite with Tippoo Sahib. He has be- 
 haved very decently to us as regards his father, and 
 has offered me the command of a regiment, with you 
 as captain. I believe we are to be sent against Bed- 
 nore, so we shall be doing under Tippoo what we pro- 
 posed doing under Scindia. It comes to the same 
 thing, and the plunder of Bednore will make it well 
 worth our while." 
 
 Andre saw no reason why he should not accede to 
 his cousin's plans. Life for the French was by no 
 means unpleasant in Tippoo's camp. Besides, they 
 were pretty sure to see some fighting, as the Mysorian 
 army, which Hyder in his last moments had dispatched 
 against Madras, would necessarily encounter a Brit- 
 ish army before long. The French were scattered 
 throughout the Mysorian troops, the officers especially, 
 yet they lived very much together and had many privi- 
 leges not granted to the natives. 
 
 Andr£ also was keen to distinguish himself; his 
 ambition was roused, and before he had been many
 
 Hyder Ali 125 
 
 weeks in the army he was reckoned as one of the 
 smartest of the officers. He was always ready for any 
 adventure; his perfect health, his strong physique, told 
 especially in his favour. Many of his comrades paid 
 their tribute to the climate with attacks of fever and 
 malaria, but he never suffered in that or any other way. 
 The long marches were no trouble to him, indeed they 
 were rather a pleasure. Had he not walked whole days, 
 from early morning till late at night, in his own dear 
 Brittany? For now that he was absent the love of 
 country surged up strongly within him. He found him- 
 self longing for the scent of the woods. He would lie 
 awake at night and think, with strange longing, of the 
 village, the church, the pretty peasant girls, Annette, 
 Louise, and Marie, dancing on the village green, and 
 their pleased shyness when he, their seigneur, asked 
 them for a dance. And then he would console himself, 
 thinking of all the grand things he would do with the 
 money which seemed now so easily won. They were 
 splendid dreams! and interwoven through them all he 
 saw the sweet face of his little friend. He never 
 doubted for one moment but that she would be there. 
 He would fall asleep and dream that they were wan- 
 dering hand in hand through the forest, and so found 
 themselves on the open greensward, where the fairies 
 met and disported themselves. One night they carried 
 Ursula off, and he lost her, and awoke with a great 
 fear at his heart and a great thankfulness that it was 
 only a dream. Oftentimes also it troubled him that he 
 could hear nothing of her; she had so wound herself 
 about his heart that at all times she was more or less 
 with him. His was one of those rare unspoilt natures. 
 He had lived with nature and nature's God so long 
 that the world had no real grip upon him. Yet he was
 
 126 The Silver Hand 
 
 a supreme favourite with his comrades. " Le grand 
 Breton" was the name they had given him. 
 
 Many were the songs he sang on the night marches 
 to cheer the men. Little Breton pastoral songs, so 
 simple, yet so touching that they brought tears to the 
 eyes of these exiles, and made the love of country surge 
 up in their hearts. Andr6 also made friends with the 
 natives, and learnt the language with remarkable 
 rapidity. Seeing his great aptitudes he was quickly 
 raised to a high position, and when Tippoo, having 
 indignantly refused to make terms with the British, 
 hastened to join the main body of the Mysorian army, 
 he insisted that St. Lubin should accompany him. 
 With no fewer than nine hundred French, two thousand 
 sepoys, and two hundred and fifty kafirs they marched 
 against General Stewart. This was to be Andre's first 
 encounter with the British.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 On the Warpath 
 
 "Let me go, Frank; I hate business. If you insist 
 upon my going- into business, I tell you frankly, I 
 will run away." 
 
 " But you are not trained — you know nothing of a 
 soldier's life. You will have to enlist as a common 
 soldier, and you'll find that pretty hard." 
 
 "I shan't! And if I do, you won't hear me com- 
 plain," said Robert. 
 
 " If my uncle had lived I should not so much have 
 minded," answered Frank. "But it is hard on Felix 
 to have this big business on his hands alone, when he 
 always knew that it was his father's intention to make 
 either you or me an active partner. Besides, there 
 are our mother and Susan to be thought of. Who 
 is to support them? Felix, I suppose, as long as he 
 chooses, but if he marries, that may not suit his wife." 
 
 " I thought it was a settled thing that Susan was 
 to marry Felix. I know my mother told me so." 
 
 " I never heard anything about it," answered Frank 
 indignantly. " Is Susan aware of this arrangement?" 
 
 "No, of course not," answered Robert. "Mother 
 told me not to hint at it to her. You see, Susan is 
 very romantic, and she is set upon having lovers and 
 all that sort of thing. It's the way with girls! She 
 imagines she is going to make no end of conquests, 
 and if Cousin Felix wants to marry her, he will have 
 
 127 
 
 -\
 
 i28 The Silver Hand 
 
 to kneel down and kiss her hand, and all that sort of 
 bosh, you know." 
 
 Frank could not help laughing. 
 
 "Well," he said, "I think that rather a cool way, 
 to say the least of it, of settling- our future plans. 
 It simply means that Felix is to marry Susan and 
 keep the whole family." 
 
 The boy looked surprised. " I suppose it does," 
 he said ; then suddenly he went up to Frank, threw 
 one arm round his neck, and said: "Look here, old 
 man, why trouble? You are always preaching that 
 God will take care of us if we walk straight. Well, 
 if I go into the business I am sure I shall go to the 
 dogs. Just let me enlist; I shall have my pay. I 
 know it's little enough, but I'll make it do. Sir 
 Edward Hughes put into Madras yesterday ; he is 
 taking troops out to Bombay. Let me go with him; 
 I don't want to knock about here till mother comes; 
 she'd make such a fuss. Let me go, Franky," he 
 added caressingly. "You'll see me come back a 
 general some day, and then I'll keep you all fine." 
 
 At that moment Felix came in from the office. He 
 was looking excited. "Sir Edward is coming to dine 
 with me to-night. I must get some other fellows to 
 meet him. As soon as he has revictualled his ships 
 he will be off to carry orders to General Macleod." 
 He looked from one brother to the other, and, patting 
 Robert on the shoulder, he said kindly: "Has the 
 parson been lecturing you again, Bob?" 
 
 They were very good friends those two. Robert 
 did not stand in the least in awe of his rich cousin, 
 and the freshness of the English schoolboy pleased 
 Felix. 
 
 Without hesitation Robert answered: "I've been
 
 On the Warpath 129 
 
 telling him, Felix, that I want to be a soldier. I'm 
 quite sure I shall never make a respectable business 
 man." 
 
 "You're about right there, laddie," said Felix. 
 "Bennett said as much to me this morning. I had 
 a fine account of you ! ' His writing's bad, his spell- 
 ing is atrocious, and as for his arithmetic, it's just 
 awful!" And Felix threw up his hands in imitation 
 of old John, as they familiarly called him. 
 
 The two men laughed, but Robert coloured deeply. 
 " I knew it," he said. 
 
 "He promises to behave himself and come back 
 a general if we let him go," said Frank. 
 
 "Then by all means let him go," said Felix. 
 
 A wild hurrah greeted the words. "You dear old 
 man," said Robert, throwing his arms round his 
 cousin's neck, "you are a brick!" And instantly he 
 began executing a war dance. 
 
 "Steady, Robert!" said Felix. "What about the 
 mother?" 
 
 "Of course she'll object; but once the thing is done 
 she'll have to make up her mind to it." 
 
 "Perhaps you ought to wait till she arrives," said 
 Felix. "It cannot be very long now. It's this fight- 
 ing between Hughes and the French which keeps our 
 merchant ships out at sea. But the French admiral 
 has moved off, and Hughes will follow, so my ship 
 will get a chance of slipping in." 
 
 " I want to go with Sir Edward Hughes," said Bob; 
 " it is such a chance." 
 
 '"Well, we will speak to Sir Edward this evening," 
 said Felix. Now, be off! I want to talk to Frank." 
 
 "You won't let him dissuade you, will you, Felix?" 
 asked the boy anxiously. 
 
 (B646) y
 
 130 The Silver Hand 
 
 " I don't think he'll try. Now, be off with you !" 
 
 Madras was slowly recovering - from the bad time it 
 had passed through, but the resources of the country 
 were drained to meet the expenditure of the war, which 
 practically covered the whole country. Nevertheless 
 the power of Britain was making itself felt, and the 
 native princes were beginning to acknowledge her rule. 
 Still, it was an anxious time for those who dwelt in 
 the cities, and for those who ploughed the seas with 
 merchant vessels. Felix felt this acutely. He was 
 young and comparatively inexperienced, and the whole 
 responsibility of a large business was a heavy weight 
 for young shoulders ; besides, he had lost heavily 
 during the late disasters. But the house of Car- 
 michael & Son, as it was still called, had remained 
 steady when others had come to grief, and its reputa- 
 tion stood high in the market. 
 
 " You'll have to let him go, Frank, he'll do no good 
 here," said Felix; "and, after all, I almost wish I were 
 in his shoes. I'm sick to death of this everlasting 
 grind after money. Let him go and be a soldier. We 
 shall be proud of him some day. He's just the sort of 
 lad to get on." 
 
 " He's had no military education. I don't think he 
 has ever held a rifle," said Frank. 
 
 "Neither had Clive at his age; I have often heard 
 my father say as much. You mark my words, Bob will 
 begin at the lowest step of the ladder of fame and he'll 
 climb to the top. I've faith in Bob." 
 
 "To a certain extent I have," said Frank; "but the 
 ways and means must be forthcoming, and it is a 
 shame we should all be dependent upon you. You 
 are a young man, and must think of your own future." 
 
 " If you imagine I am going to load Bob with
 
 On the Warpath 131 
 
 benefits you are quite mistaken. It would be the 
 unkindest thing I could do for him," answered Felix. 
 " He must be the maker of his own fortune. He 
 shall go with Sir Edward as a volunteer to join 
 Stewart. I will give him his kit and a small sum of 
 money, then he must shift for himself. My aunt will, 
 of course, come and keep house for me as my father 
 decided ; and indeed I very much need her. As 
 master I shall be obliged to entertain considerably 
 more than I have done up to the present time. My 
 father frequently said he had let every social duty drop 
 since my mother's death, but he expected my aunt 
 would alter all that. Then I hope you have made up 
 your mind about the chaplaincy, Frank. You are 
 greatly needed in Madras. You must give up the 
 idea of going among the heathen for the present, and 
 be content to minister to us at home. I want you, 
 Frank," he added; "I cannot spare you yet." 
 
 " How neatly you have arranged it all!" said Frank, 
 turning to him. " But do you know, my dear fellow, 
 you are taking up grave responsibilities ; you seem to 
 think of everybody but yourself." 
 
 " It is a mercy I have other people to think of," 
 answered Felix. " My plan of life is mapped out for 
 me; it is intensely uninteresting. I could not contem- 
 plate it if I had not you all to think of. By the by," 
 he continued, "when I saw that Robert would be of 
 no use in the business I sent for Bennett, and told 
 him he must be my partner. I could not possibly 
 drag the ship on alone. The dear old fellow hummed 
 and hawed, but I just gave him the deeds of partner- 
 ship, which I had had drawn up. I sent for Rayner 
 and one other witness, and made him sign it then and 
 there, so now it is Carmichael & Bennett."
 
 132 The Silver Hand 
 
 " I'm awfully glad of that," said Frank. " I'm sure 
 it will be a great relief to you, and he has deserved it. 
 Now he ought to get married." 
 
 "He'll never do that — he's too wrapt up in the 
 Rayners," said Felix. 
 
 The two were silent for a few seconds, then Frank 
 said quietly: "No news, I suppose?" 
 
 Felix shook his head. "And yet," he said, "I am 
 more than ever persuaded that she is living. Sita 
 Raman declares Krishna was seen fully three weeks 
 after the catastrophe, but alone." 
 
 "I am sick of all these surmises," said Frank; 
 "they never go any farther. Well, I must be off. 
 Goodbye, and thank you, Felix!" 
 
 " No need !" was the quiet answer. " You'll come to 
 the dinner; we must have our chaplain to say grace," 
 he added. " It is my first official dinner, remember." 
 
 "I'll be there, right enough," answered Frank, and 
 with a handshake the two friends parted. 
 
 The dinner was a complete success. Robert was 
 introduced to the great man, who promised to take 
 him on board his own ship and land him as near 
 General Stewart's camp as possible. " If I cannot get 
 to Stewart I'll hand him over to Macleod," he said; 
 "he's the better man of the two, to my mind." So 
 in the course of a few days Robert took his departure 
 in high spirits. Frank, Felix, and Phyllis saw him 
 off and wished him God-speed, then they walked back 
 together to the bungalow. 
 
 On his voyage to Bombay Bob won golden opinions. 
 Though he had no settled duties he was never idle, 
 always to hand ready to run commissions for anyone, 
 from Sir Edward Hughes downwards, and in return 
 he learned many things — the handling of the ropes,
 
 On the Warpath 133 
 
 the loosing and the furling of sails, the use of the 
 compass, the handling of the rudder; nothing came 
 amiss to him, even to washing down the deck. He 
 was in his element, and was gloriously happy. 
 
 "The lad did well to chuck business," said Sir 
 Edward one day to his lieutenant; "he'll make a 
 splendid soldier or sailor. It would have been a 
 shame to deprive the country of his services." 
 
 They reached Bombay a couple of days before 
 General Macleod and his companions were to start 
 for Bednore. 
 
 " If I can get them to take you, it will be a fine 
 opening for you under Macleod," Sir Edward said to 
 Robert as they landed. 
 
 " Indeed, sir, it is good of you to think of it for me, 
 and I hope I may do you credit," answered Robert. 
 
 That same evening the admiral said to General Mac- 
 leod : "I've John Carmichael's nephew on board; he 
 wants to enlist and be a soldier. Felix Carmichael 
 asked me to bring him along with me and hand him 
 over to either you or Stewart, if you will take him. I 
 don't think you will regret it. He's as fine a young 
 fellow as I've come across for a long time — so keen 
 for the work. I shall be greatly mistaken if he does 
 not distinguish himself some day." 
 
 "Where is he? Let me see him?" said the general. 
 "We want lads with grit in them." 
 
 " I'll send for him," said the admiral. 
 
 So Robert was called up and questioned. He 
 answered frankly — neither over-boldly nor too humbly. 
 The general was satisfied. 
 
 "Well, my lad," he said, "you shall have your 
 chance. We start to-morrow for Bednore to relieve 
 General Matthews of his command. You shall go with
 
 134 The Silver Hand 
 
 me, and once there, if I am satisfied with you, I will 
 give you your commission. So now be off, and keep 
 yourself in readiness to start." 
 
 Delighted beyond measure, Robert saluted the officers 
 and went his way. 
 
 " I'll be like that jolly old general one day," thought 
 Robert, rubbing his hands. " I'll remember and be 
 good to the lads too." 
 
 It was evening when they left Bombay the follow- 
 ing day. A small vessel had been chartered to take 
 them up the coast, and the three officers and Robert, 
 with the captain and a couple of sailors, set sail on 
 a lovely moonlit night. It was but a short night 
 journey, and they expected to reach the port they were 
 making for on the following morning. It meant, how- 
 ever, skirting a considerable length of coast which 
 bordered on the Mahratta territory, and which was 
 frequently infested by pirates of all nations. Neither 
 the officers nor the captain had taken this into con- 
 sideration. The night was clear, the wind favourable. 
 They looked upon the short voyage they were about to 
 take almost as a pleasure trip. Towards midnight, 
 however, they became aware of a ship much larger 
 than their own bearing down upon them. 
 
 The captain at once recognized it as a Mahratta 
 ship. 
 
 " That won't hurt us," said General Macleod ; " we've 
 as good as made peace with Scindia." 
 
 "Scindia is only a part of a whole," answered the 
 captain. "Each Mahratta state makes war indepen- 
 dently, as it suits its own especial chief; besides, I 
 very much doubt if the ship belongs to the Confederacy. 
 It strikes me it is a pirate ship." 
 
 The captain's surmise proved true.
 
 On the Warpath 135 
 
 " In that case I suppose we shall have a brush," said 
 Major Shaw. 
 
 The pirate ship was now well abreast of them. 
 
 " It is no use attempting- to fight," said the captain, 
 "we have nothing to fight with; we must just run for 
 it." And he gave the order to run full sail before the 
 wind. 
 
 The ships were near enough together for those on 
 board to distinguish one another. It was evident that 
 the pirates were few in number, but they soon gave 
 proof that they were well armed, for when they per- 
 ceived that the British had no intention of fighting, 
 they poured a heavy fire into their little vessel. Major 
 Shaw was killed outright. 
 
 The British returned the fire. What mischief they 
 did they were never destined to know. 
 
 Another volley was poured into the British ship. 
 Mackenzie and Macleod both fell severely wounded. 
 Robert was still untouched. Hardly knowing what 
 he did, he seized a gun and fired into the pirate 
 ship. 
 
 "It is of no use, my boy," said the captain, "we 
 have no stock of ammunition." 
 
 But the fever of a first fight was on Robert. He 
 continued firing. When his ammunition failed he threw 
 down his own musket and seized the general's. The 
 captain followed his example, and for a few minutes 
 the balls fell like hail into the pirate ship, doing as 
 much mischief as if the struggle had been conducted 
 on more scientific lines. Had the captain and Bob 
 only known that, of the five men on board, three had 
 been killed outright and two wounded! But of one 
 thing they did become aware: that whereas their own 
 gallant little ship, favoured by wind and tide, flew over
 
 136 The Silver Hand 
 
 the waters, the pirate ship gradually slackened speed 
 and fell behind. 
 
 On the British boat there were two sailors besides 
 the captain and the mate. One had been hit, and the 
 captain's arm hung helpless by his side. There were 
 therefore only two sound men on board, and Bob, but 
 he had so conducted himself that he had suddenly 
 attained to the dignity of manhood in the eyes of his 
 fellows. Seeing that all immediate danger was over, 
 he knelt down beside his wounded general. 
 
 " What can I do to help you, sir?" he asked. 
 
 "Take my handkerchief and my sash and see if 
 you can stop the bleeding." And he pointed to his leg. 
 Bob obeyed instantly, and though from his want of 
 skill he must have caused the wounded man much 
 unnecessary suffering, he partially succeeded in doing 
 as he was desired. It was impossible to attempt to 
 move the wounded into berths, so mattresses and 
 tarpaulins were brought on deck, and they were laid 
 thereon. The dead man alone was carried aft and 
 covered up. 
 
 "Now make for land quickly," said the captain, 
 we must get these gentlemen attended to as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 "And you yourself, captain, can't I help you?" said 
 Bob. 
 
 "Thank you, my lad, I don't think I'm badly hurt. 
 
 He let Bob strip off his coat, wash the blood from 
 his wound, and bind it up. " I expect the bone's a bit 
 smashed up," he said, "but that is nothing compared 
 to these poor fellows." And he looked sadly at the 
 general and the colonel. "You see they made a mark 
 with their uniforms. It's wonderful how you have got 
 off scot free!"
 
 On the Warpath 137 
 
 "That comes of being - nobody," said Bob. 
 
 For the next three hours he attended incessantly to 
 the general and the colonel, bathing their faces, down 
 which the sweat of agony was pouring. It was his 
 first apprenticeship to pain and suffering, and it affected 
 him deeply. " He's a plucky one," said the mate to 
 the captain, "he'll make a fine soldier, for after all he's 
 only a lad now, and I don't believe he's ever seen fire 
 before." 
 
 "Why, of course not," said the captain, "he's 
 Carmichael's nephew, just come from England. He 
 was to take his eldest brother's place in the business, 
 but he's not one of that sort, so he came down with 
 Hughes to join one of the generals, and as luck would 
 have it Macleod offered to take him to Bednore. He'll 
 not get there now, I'm thinking." A sharp call from 
 Robert stopped the conversation, and brought the cap- 
 tain to Colonel Mackenzie's side. 
 
 " I shall be gone before you get in, captain," the 
 colonel said. "You'll let my wife know. You'll find 
 instructions in case of death in my valise. Goodbye, 
 lad, you'll make a good soldier if you don't get cut off 
 too soon, because you're a gentleman." And he pressed 
 Bob's hand. 
 
 " Oh don't go, sir!" he said, tears pouring down his 
 face, for he was only a lad, and he had never looked on 
 death before ; and putting out all his young strength he 
 raised the colonel in his arms. 
 
 "There's land, sir; we're putting in; you'll be all 
 right when you get a doctor." 
 
 But it was of no use, the colonel's head sank on the 
 boy's shoulder; a quick gasp, and the spirit passed 
 away. 
 
 It was quite a small port which they entered about
 
 138 The Silver Hand 
 
 half an hour later. Of three strong, hale men and good 
 officers who had left Bombay a few hours before only 
 Macleod was landed alive, and he was laid by for many 
 weeks. Robert remained with him of necessity, but in 
 any case he would have done so, because, like a boy, he 
 grew so attached to the general that to be with him and 
 serve him was contentment to him. He had never 
 cared for anyone before so much ; he felt for him that 
 hero-worship which is only possible in early youth, and 
 so he was satisfied to be a prisoner with him for several 
 months in the Mahratta town of Geriah. He never left 
 him by day or by night, bestowing upon him every 
 possible attention. At last they were set at liberty, but 
 by that time Bednore had been reconquered by Tippoo 
 Sahib, and General Macleod went north to join his own 
 army corps, taking Robert with him. 
 
 It were impossible to tell all the battles and skir- 
 mishes in which he was engaged, but that his was a 
 successful career was from henceforth certain. He 
 rose rapidly, and before long he was aide-de-camp on 
 General Macleod's staff. News of him reached Frank 
 and Felix, and they were proud of the boy. 
 
 "He's all right. He said he'd be a general, and, 
 mark my words, he will not fail," said Felix.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 First Experiences 
 
 It is difficult to give more than a very faint idea of the 
 India of the last half of the eighteenth century. It 
 was in truth one great battlefield, a struggle between 
 West and East, as to which should be the master. 
 One feels sorry for those native princes who saw their 
 wealth coveted with greedy eyes, and who, to keep up 
 the semblance of power, had to empty their coffers at 
 the feet of that comparatively insignificant number of 
 white men, who by reason of their greater knowledge 
 and power overcame and conquered the children of the 
 soil. Such is the main fact of the great struggle be- 
 tween two races, which culminated little more than half 
 a century later in the great mutiny which cost Britain 
 so much. Whatever sins as conquerors we committed 
 against a conquered race, surely we paid for them with 
 the agony of brave men and women, and the slaughter 
 of innocent children. And if we look steadily for the 
 cause of all this misery we shall find only one answer, 
 the lust of gold. It is no excuse that those we plun- 
 dered were themselves tyrants, thieves, and liars; we 
 amployed the same cunning and greed to obtain what 
 we coveted, we were no better than the heathen ! 
 
 Situated high up in the western Ghauts stood the 
 fort of Bednore. It was considered impregnable, and 
 yet again and again it had changed masters. Hyder 
 Ali, on some question of succession, had scaled the 
 
 139
 
 140 The Silver Hand 
 
 mountain fortress from ridge to ridge, driving before 
 him the native ranee and her adopted son, until she had 
 reached the highest pinnacle and could go no farther. 
 
 In vain she sought to buy Hyder off with fabulous 
 sums of money. At one time she offered him twelve 
 lacs of pagodas, at another time, as he drew nearer, 
 eighteen lacs, which is equal in English money to 
 ,£864,000, but he refused, knowing full well that the 
 treasure in Bednore was worth much more. Then, 
 having removed all the money and jewels she could, she 
 ordered the palace and treasury to be set on fire when 
 danger from the enemy became imminent. This was 
 done, and the most opulent city in the world was almost 
 entirely destroyed. Even then the treasury was said to 
 contain twelve millions, and the plunder was enormous; 
 but Hyder took possession, and in a few hours his seal 
 was on every door. The ranee was forced to capitulate 
 and was imprisoned for life. Hyder Ali always spoke 
 of the taking of Bednore as the foundation of his 
 subsequent greatness. 
 
 When Hyder was threatening Madras, orders were 
 given by the Governor to besiege and take possession 
 of Bednore. General Mathews had just landed at 
 Bombay, and the task fell to his lot. It was a formid- 
 able piece of work and by no means to his taste. It 
 meant seven miles of stiff climb up the rugged acclivity 
 of the Ghauts, to the city. On the road trees had been 
 felled and, lined with brushwood, barriers and batteries 
 rose to the top of the hill, which was defended by seven- 
 teen thousand men. These men, for some unknown 
 reason, had abandoned the defence of Bednore, which 
 lay still fourteen miles distant. It was garrisoned by 
 three hundred and fifty British sepoys taken in Coro- 
 mandel, who had enlisted in the service of Hyder.
 
 First Experiences 141 
 
 In the dungeons of the fort lay one Captain Donald 
 Campbell, a prisoner in irons. When General Mathews 
 began his attack on the citadel, Campbell was released 
 and sent by Hyder to inform Mathews that Hyder AH 
 would deliver up the fort and the country, and remain 
 subject to the British. The next day Mathews moved 
 forward to the acknowledged command of the capital 
 and the territory of Bednore. 
 
 No one was more astonished than General Mathews 
 himself at his rapid success; he took the city without 
 shedding one drop of blood. 
 
 "To what can it be owing," he exclaimed, "save to 
 the divine will, that an army, without provisions or 
 musket ammunition, should have its wants supplied as 
 it advanced ; for without the enemy's rice and powder 
 and balls we would have had to stop until the army 
 could be revictualled." 
 
 Mathews's conduct after the taking of Bednore was 
 anything but satisfactory. He refused to divide any 
 part of the spoil with the officers and men, and, con- 
 sidering that the men had received no pay for months, 
 this, to say the least of it, was irrational. Complaints 
 had been made to the President of Bombay, and the 
 council had decided that Mathews was to be super- 
 seded by Colonel Macleod, who, with Colonel Mac- 
 kenzie and Major Shaw, made ready to start on their 
 way to Bednore to take command of the city. 
 
 General Mathews, hearing he was to lose his post, 
 behaved like a madman. He scattered his army all 
 over the country in contemptible mud huts. He took 
 up his own headquarters in the city of Bednore, and 
 he afterwards removed to the fort, without laying in 
 any stock of provisions or ammunition ; nor did he 
 attempt to strengthen the fort.
 
 142 The Silver Hand 
 
 Directly after Hyder's death Tippoo determined once 
 more to make himself master of Bednore, and with 
 a large army he marched thither. The French ele- 
 ment was in the ascendant; there were upwards of 
 six hundred French volunteers, besides officers, in 
 Tippoo's army. 
 
 Andre" de St. Lubin was in high spirits. At last he 
 was going to take part in a real campaign ! At Tip- 
 poo's approach the British were forced to retire from 
 the lines surrounding Bednore and to concentrate them- 
 selves in the city and the fort. The siege began on 
 the 7th of April. 
 
 Considering the small number of men in the fort, 
 and the size of the investing army, the possibility of 
 a successful defence was from the first hopeless, unless 
 it was relieved from without, and of that there was no 
 prospect. The besieged had, besides their numerical in- 
 feriority, to contend with the scarcity of food, and must 
 necessarily succumb to starvation if to nothing else. 
 
 Many sorties were made by the besieged, and even 
 Tippoo renders unwilling homage to their energy and 
 bravery. In one of these sorties, St. Lubin, with a 
 handful of men, encountered the British on the ridge 
 of a rock overhanging an unfathomable precipice. 
 There was so little space that it became an almost 
 hand-to-hand fight. Andre and his opponent were 
 well matched. The latter was a tall, muscular Scot, 
 but he was unnaturally thin and gaunt from privation. 
 Nevertheless he succeeded in driving St. Lubin to the 
 edge of the precipice, and under the weight and im- 
 petus of the two men a portion of the rock gave way. 
 Instinctively the Scot fell back, dragging his adversary 
 with him, but St. Lubin, not being aware of his danger, 
 struck out to free himself. The Scot in his turn came
 
 First Experiences 143 
 
 down with his knife upon the uplifted arm. In a second 
 the sword dropped from St. Lubin's hand, and with a 
 cry of agony he stepped backwards, and would have 
 fallen headlong down the rock if the Scot had not 
 caught him round the waist and forced him back. 
 
 "I guess you're my prisoner," he said, as he let 
 him fall at his feet; then he saw the bleeding hand, 
 hanging almost severed from the arm, and the ghastly, 
 unconscious face of the young man. 
 
 The fight was over; the French had been driven 
 back, and were now descending the rock precipitately; 
 the British, not caring or not having the strength 
 to pursue them, were moving slowly back into the 
 fort. 
 
 The Scot and Andr6 were therefore practically alone 
 on the ledge. Looking down upon his prisoner, and 
 seeing the plight he was in, the Scot muttered to 
 himself : 
 
 " I was just a fool to pull him back. If I'd let him 
 gang his own gait he'd have been fine and easy by this 
 time, whereas now he's got to go through it all again. 
 Shall I finish him off, or shall I let him come to?" He 
 shook his head. " It's one thing to kill a man in battle, 
 another to slay him in cool blood. The Almighty must 
 settle whether he's to live or die." 
 
 Stooping, he lifted the bleeding hand, but he dropped 
 it instantly with a shudder. It just hung by a strip of 
 flesh to the wrist. 
 
 "That was a fine stroke, Sandy," he said; "it will 
 never serve him again. He's better without than with 
 it," and with his knife he severed the hand from the 
 bleeding stump. Then he knelt down, and, tearing off 
 a strip of tartan from his scarf, he bound it tightly 
 round the arm to stay the bleeding. "Now I'll just
 
 144 The Silver Hand 
 
 carry him to the fort and let the doctor see to him; 
 he's like to bleed to death." 
 
 He made an effort to lift him up, but St. Lubin was 
 the bigger man of the two, and Sandy was suffering 
 from the effects of famine. He could not raise him. 
 
 Fortunately at that moment a man came round the 
 corner. 
 
 "What have you got there, Sandy, my boy?" he 
 called out. 
 
 "A wounded prisoner, only he's just a bit too heavy 
 for me; I can't take him in." 
 
 "Then let him be," said the other. " What do we 
 want with prisoners? We ain't got food enough for 
 ourselves." 
 
 He looked down on Andre, saw the hand lying apart 
 from the body in a pool of blood, then gave utterance 
 to a long, low whistle. 
 
 " Did you do that, Sandy?" he asked. 
 
 " I maun say I did," was the almost shamefaced 
 answer. " Now be quick and help me to carry the poor 
 laddie in ; whilst we're talking he is bleeding to death, 
 and he's a fine bit of a man, more especially for a 
 Frenchman." 
 
 They lifted him between them, and were moving off, 
 when the Scot said : 
 
 " Bide a bit; who knows, he might wish to see it," 
 and, going back a step or two, Sandy picked up the 
 bleeding hand, wrapped it in a bit of stuff, and put 
 it in his bonnet. Then he took up his burden again, 
 and they moved on slowly, for St. Lubin was a heavy 
 man, and, as we have said, they were not overstrong. 
 
 " He's more than half-dead. What did you bring 
 him in for? You're daft to have done it! His com- 
 rades would surely have come back to look for him
 
 First Experiences 145 
 
 when they missed him. He's no common soldier; he's 
 an officer. Look at his clothes!" 
 
 " Maybe you're right, doctor, but I just hadna the 
 heart to leave him to come to by himself, seeing I 
 had maimed him. If I'd killed him outright it would 
 have been different. Now just do what you can for 
 him, and somehow I'll carry him back to his own 
 people." 
 
 "You'll never get the chance of doing that, Sandy," 
 answered the doctor. "Why, he's lost nearly all his 
 blood. He's going fast." 
 
 " Maybe your mistaken, doctor," answered Sandy 
 in a coaxing tone of voice. " He'd no be so uncivil 
 when I've done my best for him. The French are 
 always polite. He'll not go the long journey without 
 saying: 'Merci!' Now, laddie," he continued, "take a 
 pull at this." And lifting Andre-'s head he put a bottle 
 to his mouth, forced the clenched teeth apart, and 
 poured the good strong whisky down his throat. " If 
 that doesn't bring him to, nothing will," he said. 
 
 "Nothing will," repeated the doctor. "I did not 
 know you had so much of the stuff left, Sandy," he 
 added. " I've dressed his arm, that's all I can do. 
 The bleeding ought to have been stopped sooner. 
 He'll just drop off. What can it matter, one more 
 or less? " 
 
 " I tell you it does matter," said Sandy passionately. 
 "You're not going to let a fine fellow like that slip 
 through your fingers. See! he is comin' to. Now, 
 quick ! Give him something that will keep the life 
 in him." 
 
 " I've got nothing better than your whisky," said 
 the doctor. "Stop a bit, though," he exclaimed sud- 
 denly; "it's a case of kill or cure. I've got an Indian 
 
 (B946) 10
 
 146 The Silver Hand 
 
 drug a native doctor gave me the other day. They 
 say it's good to make a dead man live." 
 
 "Fetch it, there's a good man," said Sandy. "I'll 
 warrant to keep him alive till you come back." And 
 he almost pushed the doctor out of the hut. Then 
 Sandy came back to the side of the wounded man, and 
 bending over him once again administered the whisky, 
 this time with such effect that with a moan Andre 
 opened his eyes. 
 
 "Now, laddie, just lie still," said Sandy, laying 
 his hand upon him to keep him down. You're sorely 
 hurt, and the doctor's gone to get some fine stuff to 
 cure you." 
 
 Not a word of all this did Andre understand ; his 
 first instinct was naturally to move the wounded arm, 
 the result of which was a sharp cry of pain and a 
 lapse into unconsciousness. 
 
 " Perhaps it would be just kinder to let him go," 
 muttered Sandy. "A maimed man is a sorry thing, 
 and it is his right hand too!" 
 
 At that moment the doctor appeared. " Hurry up!" 
 said Sandy. " He's moved his arm and cried out 
 pitifully. Where's your drug?" 
 
 " It will be of no use if he moves," said the doctor. 
 "See! the bleeding has broken out again. I must 
 stop that first, and then he must be strapped down." 
 
 In the midst of the operation Andre came to again, 
 and the doctor, who knew a little French, explained 
 to him that his arm was badly injured, and that he 
 must not on any account move it. Indeed he took 
 every precaution to prevent his doing so; but he did 
 not tell him the extent of his misfortune. 
 
 "It is quite unnecessary," he thought; "he'll not 
 live through the night." Then he administered the
 
 First Experiences 147 
 
 drug, and after a very short space of time Andre 
 fell, not into unconsciousness, but into a quiet sleep. 
 
 Sandy was triumphant. "A man who sleeps lives," 
 he said. 
 
 "Not always," answered the doctor. "He may 
 die in his sleep. I'd advise you to wet his lips now 
 and again with that whisky of yours, and keep the 
 bandages moist with cold water. I warn you, he is 
 so far gone that he may die any moment. 
 
 "Now I'll go and lie down," he added. "It's 
 little food I've had to-day, and I expect there will be 
 less to-morrow, so a man must sleep. Call me if you 
 see any change, and I'll give him another dose of the 
 stuff. If he does not wake for three hours, then put 
 that on his tongue." And he placed a small packet 
 in Sandy's hand, and went out. 
 
 Sandy stood alone and silent beside the heap of 
 straw upon which Andre had been laid. All night 
 he watched beside him, and, to the doctor's astonish- 
 ment, the next morning Andr£ was not dead. Day 
 after day went by, and still he lived. His fever ran so 
 high that he required no food; fresh water from the 
 well sufficed him. 
 
 Before the end of April it became evident that General 
 Mathews must surrender. The fort had become a heap 
 of ruins, and the garrison was starving. The general 
 therefore called a council of war, and then sent a flag 
 of truce to Tippoo with proposals for capitulation. 
 These Tippoo declared to be unfavourable, but he 
 acceded to them on account of the approaching rains. 
 The conditions of capitulation were favourable for the 
 British; they were to go out with the honours of war; 
 but Tippoo was never known to keep his word, and 
 instead of permitting the general and his troops to
 
 148 The Silver Hand 
 
 withdraw to the coast, according to the terms agreed 
 upon, Tippoo bound them with chains or ropes, and sent 
 them into Mysore to be thrown into horrible dungeons, 
 on the pretext that Mathews had purloined some of the 
 treasure which he had agreed to leave in the fort. 
 
 There is abundant reason to believe that Tippoo only 
 sought a pretext for acting thus. The garrison marched 
 out on the 3rd of May in this pitiable condition, and 
 Tippoo gave his first public audience, and ordered a 
 salute to be fired for this his first victory. When the 
 messengers with the flag of truce were sent to Tippoo 
 a letter was also sent to Monsieur le Comte de Senlis. 
 
 The Count had been in great trouble concerning 
 Andre. He knew he had gone on the expedition to 
 the fort, and that he had not returned. He had last 
 been seen fighting a giant on the edge of a precipice. 
 De Senlis had himself scaled the rock with two friends 
 of Andre's to see if they could find any trace of him. 
 They came to the very spot where the struggle had 
 taken place, and at once noticed the landslip. 
 
 "One of them, at least, must have fallen over the 
 precipice ; perhaps both of them rolled over together. 
 It seems probable," said a young man, an especial 
 friend of Andre's. He had insisted upon accompany- 
 ing the party. "Poor Andre!" he added, "if they 
 had taken him prisoner they'd have killed him ; they 
 don't want prisoners up there. They've not got food 
 enough for themselves." 
 
 The Count and his companions agreed that such 
 must of necessity be the case, and sadly they retraced 
 their steps back to the French quarters. When, there- 
 fore, de Senlis received a letter from the enemy's camp 
 he hastened to tear it open without pausing to notice 
 that the address was not in Andre's handwriting; only,
 
 First Experiences 149 
 
 when it lay open before him, he perceived it was in 
 English. He immediately sent for one of the British 
 prisoners to read and translate it for him. 
 
 The man looked at the signature. " Fergusson. 
 That is our doctor," he said. 
 
 "What does he write?" asked the Count. 
 
 The man shook his head. " I don't understand you; 
 I can't speak French," said he doggedly. 
 
 "Tell me in English; I understand enough for that," 
 said the Count impatiently. 
 
 "Well, he says the young man's alive; that it is a 
 miracle; that you may thank Sandy Maclvor and him- 
 self for it after the Almighty. The young man would 
 have written himself, only it's just his right hand which 
 is hurt ; but he's doing finely, and he'll be able to march 
 out with the troops. He's a prisoner, but he's been 
 well treated. That's about all," added the man. " I 
 know Sandy Maclvor; he's a fine fellow." 
 
 "Well, you've earned that," said the Count, his face 
 radiant with satisfaction, and he placed a gold piece 
 in the man's hand, adding: "As for Sandy and the 
 doctor, we'll make it our business to see that they 
 come to no harm." 
 
 The good news soon spread abroad, and there was 
 much satisfaction in the French camp. 
 
 "Only his hand injured; a mere bagatelle!" 
 
 The Count went straight to Tippoo, who congratu- 
 lated him, and promised that as soon as the capitula- 
 tion was signed he should be allowed to enter the fort 
 and claim his cousin. 
 
 But it did not happen thus. The troops in the garri- 
 son received orders on the eve of the 3rd of May to be 
 ready to deliver up their arms and to march out of the 
 fort the following morning an hour after dawn.
 
 150 The Silver Hand 
 
 The doctor, Sandy Maclvor, and Andre St. Lubin 
 were together in the hut which Sandy had shared with 
 Andr6 ever since the night he had brought him in and 
 laid him on that heap of straw. 
 
 For more than a week Andre had been delirious, and 
 when the fever left him his weakness had been so great, 
 and the pain he suffered so excessive, that the doctor 
 would not entertain the idea of his recovery. Still, they 
 continued to administer the drug, and suddenly a change 
 came on the twenty-first day after the accident. If he 
 could then have had food he would have got rapidly 
 well, but there was no food. Sandy had grown gaunter 
 and thinner each day, the doctor was little better than 
 a ghost, and as for Andre, when he attempted to stand, 
 he would have fallen if Sandy had not propped him up. 
 Strange to tell, so far Andre did not know the extent 
 of his misfortune. By all manner of ingenious devices 
 the doctor and Sandy had prevented him from finding 
 it out. The first fortnight it was easy, because he was 
 never quite conscious, and the pain seemed to absorb 
 every other feeling, but at last they saw the day arrive 
 when it would be no longer possible to hide the truth. 
 He began to enquire why he could not feel his fingers, 
 and he insisted on seeing his hand one day when the 
 doctor was about to dress it. 
 
 "Well, you're a man," said the doctor, "and you 
 must know it some day, but I warn you it's a grue- 
 some sight." 
 
 Sandy left the hut and went and seated himself 
 grimly on the outside wall of the fort overlooking the 
 country. It was there the doctor found him, with a 
 face like iron, staring straight before him. He never 
 moved a muscle when the doctor came and sat down 
 beside him, and said quietly:
 
 First Experiences 151 
 
 " He's a brave lad, and a Christian. I don't say but 
 what he shrank and called out at the sight. I thought 
 he was going to swoon, for he's so weak a feather 
 might knock him down, but he pulled himself together, 
 and said in his own tongue : ' The will of the Lord be 
 done! Go on, doctor;' and he held out the stump for 
 me to dress it, but I saw he never looked at it again." 
 
 " Didna he ask who did it?" said Sandy huskily. 
 
 "No, he had no need; he knew it," answered the 
 doctor. " But as I was leaving the hut he called out 
 after me: 'Tell Sandy I want him.' So, my lad, you 
 must go." 
 
 But Sandy shook his head, and walked in the oppo- 
 site direction. 
 
 How they met, and how they made each understand 
 the other's feelings, no one ever knew but themselves ; 
 from that day forth these two were friends in the true 
 sense of the word. 
 
 The following day the doctor found them together, 
 outwardly the same as before, only there was a watch- 
 fulness in Sandy's eyes which almost amounted to 
 tenderness. 
 
 " I'll walk down between you two," said Andre" to 
 the doctor. "Whatever happens to the other men I 
 intend to have your liberty in exchange for my life, for I 
 am your prisoner, you know." And he nodded to Sandy. 
 
 So it came to pass, though not without difficulty, that 
 when the general and his whole army were thrown into 
 irons, and driven prisoners to Mysore, these two men 
 were left behind. They were reckoned as part of 
 Andre* St. Lubin's prize money, only he was ordered 
 to remove them out of the army, as they might other- 
 wise be taken for spies. 
 
 I may as well go also," AndnS said to de Senlis. 
 
 < i
 
 152 The Silver Hand 
 
 " For the present I am of no use. When I have got 
 accustomed to my misfortune I may be able to serve 
 after some fashion. Now I am ill. I cannot throw the 
 fever off, and my arm does not heal as it should do. 
 I must consult another physician." 
 
 "I think you are right; indeed I do not know what 
 else you can very well do," said de Senlis. " Only you 
 are not very fit to travel, and it is a long way to any 
 town where you would be likely to get good advice. I 
 should go to Poona and rest there if I were you." 
 
 " Scindia is gone to Agra, I heard," said Andr6, " and 
 that is a long way north." 
 
 "But not difficult of access; it is on the main road. 
 You could send a messenger to Scindia; he would find 
 means of helping you on your way." 
 
 "What about Sandy and the doctor? I can't leave 
 them behind," said Andre\ 
 
 "Take them with you. Scindia has made peace with 
 the English, so he will not object to harbouring them 
 for a time, and later you can dispatch them to Madras." 
 
 This plan was carried out, and in due time the three 
 started for Agra. 
 
 No one knew, save Andre himself, the depths of 
 despair which at times overwhelmed him. Never to 
 be a whole man again, always to be maimed and 
 dependent on others ! Sometimes, when Sandy put 
 out a hand to help him, he would push him angrily 
 away with inward rage at his sense of impotence. He, 
 who had never required help from any man, to be thus 
 dependent, and with no hope for the future! All his 
 life long men and women would look at him with pity ! 
 No, he could never endure that; he would rather hide 
 himself away in some corner of the earth. But he 
 would see the child again before he disappeared from
 
 First Experiences 153 
 
 the haunts of men. He longed for her. She was only 
 a child ; her pity would not wound him ; and so he 
 started on his journey northwards with a certain satis- 
 faction, a feeling that comfort was awaiting him in that 
 city of which he had heard so much — a city consecrated 
 to love and to death, and whose white marble mauso- 
 leum was said to be a thing of such exquisite beauty, 
 built to record a love which had made the joy of a man's 
 life. 
 
 We will not follow Andr£ on that long journey, but 
 will meet him at the end.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 In Memoriam 
 
 The Frenchmen had not been gone many weeks when 
 certain events in the northern provinces caused Scindia 
 to decide upon leaving Poona and taking up his resi- 
 dence in his own capital of Agra. The Confederacy 
 was, as we have already explained, composed of many 
 different tribes, each having its own chief, to whom 
 alone they were subject. 
 
 They roamed from north to south, quarrelling and 
 fighting one against another, subject to no fixed law. 
 Peace in the land was therefore impossible. 
 
 It was Scindia's ambition to unite all these many 
 tribes and bring them under his own authority. In 
 several cases he had succeeded in accomplishing this, 
 and had chosen for his capital and centre of action the 
 beautiful city of Agra. 
 
 It might well have been called the "city of love", 
 for soaring over and above all the other buildings in 
 the city — and there were not a few of great beauty — 
 is the " Taj Mahal ", a mausoleum built in memory 
 of a woman, the best-beloved wife of a great prince, 
 who, in his desire that her memory should remain for 
 ever in the eyes and hearts of men, built for her re- 
 mains this most beautiful and costly monument, de- 
 siring that when his days were ended his body should 
 be laid beside her. And so there arose, beneath that 
 deep Indian sky, a sepulchre of the purest white marble. 
 
 m
 
 In Memoriam 155 
 
 Artists from all parts of India had been summoned 
 to adorn both the interior and the exterior of this 
 palace of the dead. Love and the symbols of love 
 breathed forth from the very stones. It was, and 
 still is, a veritable "architectural poem". 
 
 To this city Scindia repaired, bringing" with him his 
 beautiful young- wife, the Princess Laily. Polygamy 
 was, to a certain extent, permitted amongst the 
 Mahrattas, but was not common among the higher 
 castes, and Scindia had but one wife. The princess 
 travelled from Poona on a magnificently caparisoned 
 elephant, or, when she was tired, in a palki — a sort 
 of couch, hung round with rich silken curtains, and 
 carried on poles by bearers. She had desired to have 
 Ursula with her, but after a time the child grew rest- 
 less and wearied of the confinement, so she begged to 
 be allowed to ride the horse which had been Scindia's, 
 and which had brought her to Poona. 
 
 The prince, seeing how the animal loved the child, 
 had given it to her for her own, so now her request 
 was granted, and she rode on Mirza beside the prin- 
 cess's elephant. 
 
 Thus they travelled, a long procession, from Poona 
 to Agra. Ursula rejoiced greatly at all she saw. The 
 world seemed very beautiful to her: the high mountains 
 reaching to the skies, the deep valleys, the wondrous 
 lakes. She joyed beyond measure, and her soul grew. 
 She understood, as she had never done before, the 
 beauty of the earth and sky and the glory of the 
 universe. Surely that was the dawn of happiness! 
 
 At last they reached the beautiful city, and Scindia, 
 at his wife's request, bestowed a little palace with 
 lovely gardens upon Ursula; and there she dwelt with 
 Krishna and women servants chosen for her by the
 
 156 The Silver Hand 
 
 princess. Henceforth either she was with the princess 
 in her palace or the princess was with her ; they were 
 inseparable. 
 
 Gradually — no one quite knew why or wherefore — 
 there had grown round Ursula a sort of halo of super- 
 stitious veneration. People looked upon her with awe, 
 as if she were not quite of this world or made of com- 
 mon clay; it takes so little to force the minds of men 
 and women into a certain groove. The slightest word, 
 kind or unkind, for good or evil report, will leave its 
 mark upon the most innocent soul. 
 
 If we realized this more fully we might, perhaps, be 
 more careful how we speak one of another. 
 
 Everyone knew the story of how Scindia had found 
 Ursula on the highroad, and it was said the gods had 
 bidden him take her to his wife the princess. He had 
 done so, and now the princess loved her with a great 
 love. The city of Agra was well suited for romance in 
 friendship or in love. It had also a high religious tone. 
 The whole Hindu population held it in veneration, as 
 the scene of the incarnation of Vishnu under the name 
 of Parasu Rama. 
 
 Crowds of pilgrims came y arly to worship at the 
 Moti Musjid, or Pearl Mosque, so called from its 
 architectural beauty, which was only surpassed by the 
 Taj Mahal. There were many learned Brahmins dwell- 
 ing in the city, also there was a college for the training 
 of priests in the mysteries of their religion. A certain 
 religious element pervaded the whole city. 
 
 Into the spirit of the place Ursula seemed to have 
 entered, yet by some strange instinct she knew she 
 die not belong to this people. Their religion did not 
 appeal to her; she never worshipped after their fashion. 
 From the time when Andre had, so to speak, unsealed
 
 In Memoriam 157 
 
 her mind, certain things had come back to her, and 
 little by little she remembered. 
 
 She had been so young- when the great shock came 
 upon her, and she was so young still. But through 
 the clouds she saw light, and who shall say but that, 
 in loving pity for His forsaken child, God in His great 
 goodness did send His angels in the stillness of the 
 night to whisper in her ear those sacred truths which 
 other children learn at their mother's knee? There is 
 nothing impossible to God in His infinite love. Certain 
 it is that, whatever she had forgotten, light, spiritual 
 light, dawned upon this child's soul. She found her- 
 self repeating the hymns Frank had taught her on 
 Sunday afternoons. Pictures she had seen of the 
 Christ, came back to her memory — the child Jesus 
 and the man Christ; she knew they were one and 
 the same. Intermingled with this knowledge were 
 the legends of saints and angels which Andre" had 
 told her. She had caught from him the Latin version 
 of the Venite, the Gloria, the Te Deum, and she sang 
 as he had sung, not always understanding the words, 
 but exultantly, as the birds sing their song to the great 
 Creator, and the princess would listen to her and re- 
 joice with her. Strange to tell, all the sadness had 
 passed out of Ursula's life; she did not trouble about 
 the past, which she did not understand; she had an 
 inward certainty that all would be revealed to her in 
 due time. So she was happy. 
 
 The princess also taught her many things that were 
 useful for her to know. So she learned to embroider, 
 to thread beads, or, rather, precious stones, at which 
 exercises she soon became quite expert and clever. 
 When one day the princess bore Scindia a son, there 
 was no end to Ursula's joy. And so the days
 
 158 The Silver Hand 
 
 and weeks and months passed, and she had grown as 
 children do at that age, which in India is more rapidly 
 than in England. She looked something- more than 
 the child, yet scarcely the maiden. One day, as she 
 was walking in the garden with the princess, they 
 saw enter the compound an elephant carrying three 
 men, whereupon they both entered the house, and 
 waited to know who the strangers might be. 
 
 Now Ursula had never been subject to the rules 
 of the Hindu women. First of all she was not a 
 woman ; her face was still, like the children's, un- 
 covered, save from habit when she went abroad, and 
 then not always. Krishna had even tried to dress her 
 after European fashion, for there were many European 
 women in Agra, wives of merchants, &c. , but this 
 Ursula would not have. She loved her Indian dress, 
 and it became her well. 
 
 When, therefore, Krishna came and told her that 
 the young Frenchman who had saved her life had 
 come back, she was glad, and, like a child, ran out 
 to him and greeted him, holding forth her hands to 
 take his. In a second, when he held out his left hand 
 only, she understood he was hurt, and tears filled her 
 eyes. 
 
 " You are hurt," she said. 
 
 "Yes, I am sorely hurt," he answered; "and I 
 have travelled all the way up from Bednore to see 
 you, Ursula, my little maid;" and there was a note 
 of disappointment in his voice. He did not know 
 why or wherefore, but it seemed to him as if some- 
 thing had passed away, and he was alone. Where 
 was the little child? But instantly the child look came 
 back to her face, and she took his other hand and 
 said gently:
 
 In Memoriam 159 
 
 M Sit down and tell me all about it. You healed 
 me once, perhaps I shall heal you." 
 
 "That is impossible," he answered. 
 
 "Who can tell?" she said softly. 
 
 Then Krishna came up and whispered something 
 in her ear. Ursula looked surprised, and said: 
 
 " But I must speak with him. Send the men to 
 the men's quarters. Where is the princess?" 
 
 "She is gone to tell the prince; they will return 
 together." • 
 
 "That is well," said Ursula. "But will you not 
 give us coffee and sweetmeats? This is our first 
 guest." 
 
 Krishna clapped her hands and a woman servant 
 answered. Krishna gave the order, and then sat down 
 on the ground and waited. Then Andr£ told all that 
 had befallen him, but he had not proceeded far when 
 Scindia entered with the princess, and after they had 
 greeted one another Andre" continued. Much of what 
 he related Scindia already knew — the taking of Bed- 
 nore and Tippoo's treachery. He was much grieved 
 at the loss Andre" had sustained and for the pain he 
 still suffered. "We have a medicine man who is 
 well reputed for the curing of wounds. I will give 
 you a house in which to live with your two English- 
 men as long as you choose to remain with me, and 
 when you are cured you can teach my men, with one 
 hand, your manner of fighting, as well as if you had 
 two. Now I will go and see your men." Andre" rose, 
 bade Ursula and the princess farewell, and followed 
 Scindia. But his heart was sore within him because 
 the child was taken from him. 
 
 So it happens only too often in life: what we hold 
 to-day we lose to-morrow, and our hearts fail us until
 
 160 The Silver Hand 
 
 we find that each thing has its time and place, and that 
 compensations come to us of which we never dreamt. 
 But we must be patient; and Andre" was ill, and it 
 fretted him that the child which had been a delight 
 to him should be kept under watch and guard by 
 these Eastern women. More than ever he determined 
 to discover her history, and, if possible, to set her 
 free. 
 
 The old Brahmin, who was said to be able to cure 
 any wound, came to him each day with healing balms 
 and herbs, which he boiled down and administered to 
 him. Certainly the effect was all that could be desired : 
 the arm healed and his physical health improved. Dr. 
 Fergusson acknowledged that the cure was wonder- 
 fully rapid, but it was in vain he strove to possess 
 himself of the precious ointment. The Indian applied 
 it himself each day, and burned the cloths which he 
 used. 
 
 "If he were either French or English we might 
 bribe him, but an Indian Brahmin has no needs. 
 Gold and silver are worthless in his eyes," he grumbled 
 to Sandy, who agreed that the receipt for that ointment 
 would be worth a fortune. 
 
 "Try and get it for me, there's a good fellow. You 
 know you're not a canny Scotsman for nothing," said 
 the doctor, and he patted him on the shoulder. Now 
 Sandy, ever since that night when they had between 
 them brought Andr£ back to life, adored the doctor. 
 He followed him about, and was always ready to do 
 him a service, when it did not interfere with what 
 he considered to be his duty to St. Lubin. That 
 was sacred to him, and came before all things else. 
 Had he not maimed him ? Must he not therefore 
 serve him for all the remaining years of his mortal
 
 In Memoriam 161 
 
 life? Upon consideration it appeared to him that the 
 Doctor's request was reasonable, and might prove 
 useful at some future period to his beloved count and 
 others. So he determined to use all his cunning- to 
 outwit the Brahmin and possess himself of some por- 
 tion of the precious balm, which the doctor could then 
 analyse, and so become acquainted with its properties. 
 It seemed a very simple thing - , but it was almost im- 
 possible to accomplish, for when the Brahmin dressed 
 the arm he virtually sealed the bandages after such 
 a fashion that no one but himself could undo them. 
 Andr£ would not have suffered anyone else to touch 
 them. 
 
 One day Sandy watched his opportunity. When 
 the bandage was removed, and thrown for a second 
 on one side, he pulled forth his dirk, and was about 
 to sever a portion of the cloth to which the balm 
 still adhered, when he received a sharp blow on his 
 hand. The dirk fell to the ground, and he stood 
 face to face with the priest and Andre\ The Brahmin 
 poured forth a volley of angry ejaculations, but Andre" 
 only said: "That is a mean trick, Sandy, for a brave 
 man to be guilty of. The secret is his, and he is heal- 
 ing me. Shame on you ! Get you gone out of my 
 sight!" 
 
 And Sandy went out with his head down, a miserable 
 man. 
 
 He had not gone far when he met the doctor. "Well, 
 have you got it?" asked the latter eagerly. Then 
 Sandy broke out in such a passion of indignation and 
 anger that the doctor stood aghast. 
 
 "Weel!" he shrieked, "it's not weel at all. Why 
 
 must ye make an honest Scotsman do your dirty work? 
 
 What do I care for your ointment? If you're beaten 
 (B946) 11
 
 i6a The Silver Hand 
 
 at your own work by a black-faced black-hearted Indian, 
 it's your fault, not mine. Find the secret your ain self; 
 I'll not be called mean for trying to oblige ye." And 
 he was passing on, but the doctor put out his hand 
 and caught him by the sleeve. 
 
 "Come, Sandy, what's up?" he said. "We're too 
 old friends to quarrel." 
 
 A gentle answer turneth away wrath, and Sandy's 
 heart was sore craving for sympathy, so he poured the 
 whole story out to the attentive doctor, winding up 
 with: "And what's most aggravating is that I'd got 
 it safe between my two fingers, and I dropt it." 
 
 "That's a pity," said the doctor. Evidently they 
 had both lost sight of Andre's point of view. 
 
 " He turned me out, told me to be gone," said Sandy 
 in a sorrowful manner. 
 
 "We'll soon make that all right," said the doctor. 
 
 At that moment Andre" appeared himself on the scene. 
 
 "What are you two conspirators up to now?" he 
 asked quickly. 
 
 "Nothing," answered the doctor. "Sandy was tell- 
 ing me you are mad with him for trying to get a sample 
 of that ointment. Well, it was my doing; I left him 
 no peace. I want it, and I must have it, in the cause 
 of science and humanity, young man ; I think that's 
 reason enough!" 
 
 "Not for stealing a man's secret," answered Andre\ 
 " I've had considerable trouble in getting the old man 
 to go on with the cure. I have taken a solemn oath 
 that neither of you shall be in the room when he dresses 
 my wound, or at any time touch my hand until he pro- 
 nounces it cured and unbinds it. So now you under- 
 stand, no more nonsense; eh, Sandy?" 
 
 His voice had softened, for he knew he had hurt his
 
 In Memoriam 163 
 
 faithful friend, whose sense of honour was not quite as 
 delicate as his own. The tone of his voice was enough 
 for Sandy. He came straight up to him. 
 
 "You need have no fear, Count. I'll not meddle 
 with the stuff again. I told the doctor he must do 
 his own dirty work in the future." 
 
 " In the cause of science," said the doctor. "Think, 
 Count, of the agony you were suffering, and I could 
 give you no relief, but that Brahmin did, almost imme- 
 diately, and your arm is a picture for healing. I'd give 
 — well, a fortune if I had it, to know his secret, and 
 I tell you plainly I'll never rest till I do know it, for 
 humanity's sake." 
 
 And therewith he flung himself round and walked 
 away, his head high. 
 
 "Bravo, doctor!" muttered Sandy in a low voice. 
 
 Andre heard him and smiled.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "Suffer the Little Children" 
 
 " I hear that the ship I sent out to Johanna Island has 
 reached its destination, so I expect your mother and 
 sister are on their way. If they steer clear of the 
 French ships, and if the weather continues fine, we 
 may expect them within the month. I must begin to 
 set my house in order." And Felix sighed in that sort 
 of hopeless way which men have when they have no 
 womankind and see a vista of household duties before 
 them. 
 
 " I should not trouble if I were you," answered Frank ; 
 "the place looks all right;" and he cast a rapid glance 
 round the dining-room, in which they were having their 
 meal. It was a handsome room, which Mr. Carmichael 
 had taken a pride in furnishing after English fashion. 
 Indeed he had gone to great expense to have things 
 sent out from England. 
 
 " It's all very well for us men," continued Felix, "but 
 women have all sorts of ideas about home, and, with 
 the exception of our little Ursula, there has been no 
 mistress about the house for the last dozen years. 
 Naturally things can't be 'all right', as you call it." 
 
 "You must remember my mother has never lived 
 in grand style," said Frank. "If it had not been for 
 your father's generosity we should have been very 
 poor." 
 
 164
 
 " Suffer the Little Children" 165 
 
 Felix did not answer him at once. At last he 
 said : 
 
 " I tell you what, Frank, I'll just turn Mrs. Rayner 
 and Phyllis in, and give them carte blanche to do what 
 they think necessary. As you say, I can't see that 
 anything- is wanting - , but there must be. Your mother 
 must have a sitting-room of her own, and the bed- 
 rooms want doing up. When we have dined we'll 
 drive over to the bungalow and have a regular con- 
 sultation." 
 
 Frank laughed. " A good excuse, Felix, but it is 
 true we never know what to do without our women 
 friends. But will it be fair to put extra work on 
 Phyllis? It seems to me the Refuge is as much as she 
 can manage." 
 
 " I'm thinking she ought to give it up," said Felix. 
 "The need for it has ceased, the state of things has 
 become normal, the famine and pestilence have died 
 out; there is therefore no further necessity for its 
 existence." 
 
 "And yet this morning, when I was down there, I 
 saw her take in two emaciated children, and there were 
 at least a dozen others playing and lying about the 
 place. I made some such remark as you have just 
 made, and she turned round upon me quite fiercely, 
 exclaiming: ' What would you have me do with them? 
 Turn them out, I suppose. That's just like you men!' 
 and she went off without deigning to give me even 
 good morrow." 
 
 " Well, she'll have to give it up," said Felix severely. 
 "She's overworked, and must have a rest. I'm think- 
 ing of sending her and her father and mother to the 
 hills for the hot weather. Old Rayner does not pick 
 up his strength as he ought; he fainted in the office
 
 166 The Silver Hand 
 
 yesterday. Besides, there's the question of ways and 
 means ; it costs a good deal to finance the Refuge. 
 People have so far been very generous, but when they 
 realize' that the actual need for it has ceased, they will 
 drop off; and Bennett, I am sure, will not hear of my 
 taking the whole charge on my shoulders. He is 
 always preaching economy. He says there is a pretty 
 heavy deficit in the books this year. I am not sur- 
 prised; we have been losing in everyway: ships foun- 
 dered or taken by the French, the monsoon, war, 
 famine, and pestilence. When one comes to think of 
 it, it is really awful!" 
 
 "And yet you talk of doing up the house!" said 
 Frank. " I really wish you would drop that." 
 
 " My father would have wished it," answered Felix. 
 " He would have done it himself; he was so set upon 
 giving your mother a warm welcome. As it is, it will 
 be a sad home-coming ! Raman, have you ordered the 
 dogcart?" he asked, turning to his faithful Indian 
 servant. 
 
 "Yes, sahib; I heard your honour say he would go 
 to the bungalow to-night. See, there it comes ! Shall 
 I accompany you?" 
 
 " No need, Raman. We shall not be late, and I 
 see Ali is holding the horse. He can jump up 
 behind." 
 
 "Ali no good," said Raman, tossing his head. 
 
 Ever since the Mahratta raid he had hardly suffered 
 Felix out of his sight. He had a fixed idea that danger 
 lurked everywhere, and that he was Felix's especial 
 protector. "The only one left," he would say in his 
 soft, sad voice ; and so, even now, notwithstanding 
 that Felix had negatived his request, he sent Ali off, 
 and himself took the back seat. Felix made no re-
 
 "Suffer the Little Children" 167 
 
 mark as he gathered the reins up, but only smiled at 
 Frank. They both understood. 
 
 Their appearance created no surprise at the bunga- 
 low; they were accustomed there to this coming and 
 going, and were always glad at the familiar sight of 
 the dogcart. 
 
 Phyllis saw at a glance that Felix had come for a 
 purpose, and as they shook hands she looked up at 
 him, saying: "Anything wrong?" 
 
 " Nothing, my little inquisitor," he answered. " Only 
 Frank and I were talking of changes which might be 
 necessary in view of his mother's and sister's arrival, 
 and I proposed we should come and consult with you 
 and your mother. Frank agreed it would be the best 
 thing; so here we are. Good evening, Mrs. Rayner! 
 I've come to throw myself on your tender mercies." 
 
 " I am always glad to do anything in my power 
 for you, sir," said Mrs. Ravner. "How can I serve 
 you?" 
 
 Felix seated himself, and took the cigar Mr. Rayner 
 offered him. Frank followed his example, and they lay 
 back in the lounges in perfect comfort. The evening 
 was not overpoweringly hot, the punkah was still at 
 work, and the gardener was watering the grass and 
 flower-beds with a long hose, and this also conduced 
 to coolness. 
 
 "It's about the house, Mrs. Rayner," said Felix at 
 last. "You see, it's been a bachelor's establishment 
 so long it wants doing up — making fit for ladies, — and 
 I have not the remotest idea how to set about it." 
 
 "It is some time since I was in your house," said 
 Mrs. Rayner, "but from what I remember I think it 
 requires hardly anything done to it." 
 
 "That's right, Mrs. Rayner," said Frank. "Please,
 
 1 68 The Silver Hand 
 
 don't let him throw his money away on it. I am sure 
 my mother will think it palatial." 
 
 Phyllis had listened in silence. She had always 
 considered the Carmichael mansion "palatial", and 
 quite resented the idea that any changes were neces- 
 sary. 
 
 Felix continued. " I want a private sitting-room — 
 ' boudoir ', I think you call it — for my aunt, and the 
 rooms want painting and papering; the veranda also 
 must be smartened up. We are accustomed to it, but 
 I am quite sure newcomers would at the present mo- 
 ment consider it shabby. I want you and Phyllis to 
 brighten it up. I do not wish to go to any extrava- 
 gant expense. I just want to make sure that it is 
 clean and comfortable; in fact, as it should be, for 
 ladies." 
 
 "I understand perfectly," said Mrs. Rayner. "To- 
 morrow Phyllis and I will go into town, examine every- 
 thing, and make a list; then you can decide what you 
 will and will not do. I agree with Mr. Burgess that 
 you ought not to be extravagant. Here comes our 
 mutual friend, Mr. Bennett ; I am sure he will be of 
 the same opinion." 
 
 "Oh, if Bennett has a word to say in the matter, 
 nothing will be done at all!" said Felix in an annoyed 
 tone of voice. 
 
 " What are you talking about?" asked John Bennett, 
 after he had shaken hands with the two young men. 
 Frank told him. 
 
 "Well, I agree with Felix," he said; "the old house 
 wants brightening up, but very little will do that. 
 If Phyllis and her mother take it in hand, they will 
 soon set it right. I don't think they'll run up a very 
 long bill. They know times are hard; but still we
 
 "Suffer the Little Children" 169 
 
 like, when people come from England, to show them 
 that we still know what's what." 
 
 So it was settled that Phyllis and Mrs. Rayner should 
 use their own discretion. 
 
 " By the by, Phyllis, when do you propose giving up 
 the Refuge?" asked Felix. 
 
 " I am not sure I shall give it up," said Phyllis, 
 "unless you require the building, and turn me out." 
 
 "Do you mean to say you contemplate keeping it 
 on indefinitely?" asked Felix. 
 
 "That depends," answered Phyllis. "I had a visit 
 the other day from some of the principal ladies of 
 the English colony; those who have helped me most. 
 They seemed to think that, on rather different lines, 
 the Refuge might, and even ought, to be continued. I 
 have now ten to twelve children who have no parents. 
 How can I cast them out? What would become of 
 them? So, instead of a ' refuge ', as it was in the time 
 of need, we propose making an orphanage of it, and to 
 bring these children up as Christians. You know we 
 cannot reach them in the zenanas, where they are 
 under the authority of parents, but these are waifs 
 and strays. Surely we may take them and bring them 
 into the fold of Christ's Church." 
 
 " I see no reason at all against it," said Frank 
 eagerly. "The Roman Catholics would do it; they 
 are far more zealous in their mission-work than we 
 are. I have often wondered why this is the case. Do 
 they care more? They certainly never let an occasion 
 for making a convert slip by, and we do so only too 
 often." 
 
 " Well, we intend holding on now," said Phyllis. 
 "The ladies are really in earnest. Funds are being 
 raised; it is only a question of room."
 
 170 The Silver Hand 
 
 " That need not trouble you," said Felix. "You may 
 have the warehouse, and welcome. Indeed it is not very 
 suitable for us ; it is too far out. You may have it rent 
 free, and any changes you may think necessary for a per- 
 manent home I am quite willing to make. I can afford 
 that much." 
 
 "How good of you, Felix! We do want kitchens, 
 and partitions for the sleeping-rooms," said Phyllis. 
 
 "All right! I'll send my architect down, and I think 
 we will ask Mrs. Dawson and those other ladies who 
 came to you, Phyllis, to meet us early one morning, 
 and we will have a regular consultation. Don't you 
 think that will be the best way of keeping up their 
 interest?" 
 
 "Most certainly I do!" answered Phyllis, delighted. 
 
 The remainder of the evening was spent talking and 
 making plans. They were all in high spirits, and 
 nothing else was discussed the whole evening as they 
 sat on the veranda. 
 
 It was a great excitement. There had been as yet 
 no attempt at Madras to evangelize the natives. The 
 principle of non-interference with the religion of the 
 people was considered of paramount importance, to 
 avoid friction. But here were these children, forsaken 
 and homeless ; they could not let them slip out of 
 their hands without making an attempt to save their 
 souls as well as their bodies ! 
 
 And so these young people, who had passed through 
 so much sorrow together, consoled themselves by well- 
 doing, and bound themselves together for good works. 
 It came about naturally, not with pride of purpose, 
 but rather because their souls were cast in that 
 mould. 
 
 For the next few weeks they were very busy. The
 
 " Suffer the Little Children" 171 
 
 British colony of Madras threw itself heart and soul 
 into the building and setting up of this first Christian 
 home for native children, and over the porch they 
 caused to be inscribed in Hindustani and in English : 
 "Suffer the little children to come unto Me".
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 Two and three months went by after Andr6 came to 
 Agra. His general health, which had suffered greatly 
 from the effects of his accident, was perfectly re-estab- 
 lished, and the wound had healed; but his spirits did 
 not return. He suffered at times from an overwhelming 
 sense of depression, from which nothing could rouse 
 him. 
 
 At first he saw very little of Ursula, for indeed Krishna 
 would not suffer her out of her sight, and would not 
 let her make the acquaintance of any of the European 
 families in Agra. In fact, Ursula herself was perfectly 
 content to be alone with Princess Laily and the baby 
 prince, though she insisted that Andre should from 
 time to time be permitted to come and see her. Even- 
 tually it was settled that he should be her teacher, seeing 
 he was still an invalid, Ursula so young, and both were 
 of the same nation, as was supposed. 
 
 This gradually became a great pleasure to him, 
 and roused him to a certain degree of energy; more- 
 over, it obliged him to use his left hand. He had 
 to teach her to write, and he could only do so by 
 making the letters himself. At first he was very 
 awkward, but by degrees he learnt to write as well 
 with the left as he had done with the right hand, and 
 
 172
 
 The Silver Hand 173 
 
 Ursula watched his progress as eagerly as he watched 
 hers. 
 
 The lessons always took place out on the veranda; 
 they were confined to reading and writing, nothing 
 more, except the religious stories, which were the 
 delight of Ursula's heart. One day he brought with 
 him a great bunch of flowers, and from that time 
 forth they talked about the flowers, and she learnt 
 many things. Without being aware of the fact, but 
 because of his early life spent in the forest and the 
 country, Andr£ was learned in all things appertaining 
 to nature. The doctor and he would wander out 
 into the country and gather herbs, and many were 
 the discussions which they had on the subject of 
 plants and flowers. 
 
 Neither the doctor nor Sandy was ever permitted 
 to penetrate the precincts of the house and garden 
 which contained, they said, the fairy princess. 
 
 It was a strange language they spoke when they 
 were all together; Andre picked up a considerable 
 amount of English from his companions, and they a 
 smattering of French from him. 
 
 Occasionally the doctor and Sandy would meet 
 Ursula accompanied by Krishna, but the sari was 
 always across her face, brought low down over her 
 forehead, so that only her eyes were to be seen. One 
 day it so happened that the two men were standing 
 in front of the Pearl Mosque when Ursula stepped 
 out. The wind caught the soft white material and 
 lifted the end of the sari, so that her whole face 
 was exposed to view, the soft aureole of golden 
 hair, the deep-blue eyes, veiled by long lashes, and 
 the exquisite smile which parted the child's lips. It 
 was only for the space of a minute, then Krishna's
 
 174 The Silver Hand 
 
 hand drew the veil round her. She had seen the 
 two men, and she had noted the doctor's astonished 
 look; she had also heard his exclamation: "Where 
 have I seen that face before?" 
 
 She hurried Ursula away to a palki which was in 
 waiting for her, and drew the curtains. 
 
 The doctor turned to Sandy and asked: "Do you 
 know whether that is the child St. Lubin goes to 
 see, and talks so much about?" 
 
 "How should I know?" said Sandy; "but if you 
 ask me what I think, I should say it must be she. 
 The Count " (for Sandy always designated him thus) 
 " has mentioned that she was very fair, that she must 
 be either English or French — the latter, he seemed to 
 think, because she understood that language from 
 the first." 
 
 "Well," said the doctor, in his excitement speaking 
 louder than usual, "I tell you she is English, or 
 at least she has an English mother. I know her 
 face quite well!" And he turned away. He might 
 have added: "It is the face of the one and only 
 woman I ever loved." But a man does not cast such 
 words to the winds; and, after all, Sandy was not 
 his intimate friend; circumstances alone had made 
 them comrades. 
 
 So he kept silence and went and shut himself up 
 in the room which had been allotted to him, in a 
 house close to Prince Scindia's palace. 
 
 Throughout that night he lived in the past, searching 
 in his memory for every little detail of things which 
 he had for years diligently put on one side. The 
 child's face was ever present with him, but it was 
 no longer the child's face he saw, it was another as 
 young and fresh and tender as the child's! They had
 
 The Silver Hand 175 
 
 been boy and girl together, Ellen Moore and he. He 
 had called her his little wife when she was in short 
 frocks and he in jackets. Then they had drifted 
 apart, meeting only casually now and again; he elbow- 
 ing his way in the world of men, she — well, he hardly 
 knew what girls did with their days, until suddenly 
 he heard she had gone the way of all girls and got 
 married. There was an end to dream number one! 
 He was told she had married an immensely rich man, 
 who had made his fortune in India, and that she 
 was going out there with him ; after that he asked 
 no further questions. But it so happened he got an 
 appointment as doctor in the East India Company's 
 service, and he went out. 
 
 At a big ball at Madras he came across her. He 
 asked her name, and they met as old friends, just 
 once, and then he went his way. The next thing he 
 heard was that she was dead, and now suddenly her 
 face rose before him again as from the dead. What 
 did it mean? 
 
 He had heard a wonderful tale of how Scindia had 
 found this child on the roadside and brought her to 
 Poona, and that she was considered to be a sacred 
 incarnation. "That is all nonsense," he had said 
 more than once; but now he looked upon the matter 
 in a more serious light. There was something mys- 
 terious in the whole affair, and he, Doctor Fergusson, 
 was not going to be so bamboozled. 
 
 He'd tackle that young Frenchman the very next 
 day — of course he knew all about her, — and if he 
 would not make a clean breast of it, he'd find some 
 other way ; but that child with that face should not 
 be lost to her own people. He never slept all that 
 night. Early the following morning he strolled down
 
 176 The Silver Hand 
 
 to the Jumna and bathed ; then he came back, 
 just in time to meet Andre going for his morning- 
 ride. " If you'll wait till my horse comes round 
 I'll go with you," he said. 
 
 It was only within the last week or two that Andre 
 had begun riding, and it was the doctor who had 
 persuaded him to make the trial, which had proved 
 perfectly successful. The doctor being absent this 
 morning, Andre had still determined to ride, hating to 
 feel he was dependent on the whims of another man. 
 He was just about to start, and was almost disap- 
 pointed at having the doctor forced upon him foi 
 company. However, he had to put a good face on 
 the matter, and they went off together. 
 
 They had not gone far when the doctor observed : 
 " Have you seen your little protegee this morning?" 
 
 "What are you thinking about?" answered Andre. 
 "I go to her after breakfast, just for one hour, and 
 that is a concession." 
 
 " I suppose so," said the doctor thoughtfully. Then 
 he continued, speaking quickly: "What do you know 
 of her? Who is she?" 
 
 "I wish I could tell you!" answered Andre. "It 
 is a mystery I have tried in vain to fathom. I believe 
 the only person who really knows is Krishna. I have 
 tried her by every means in my power. I have even 
 threatened her, but it is of no avail; she is mute." 
 
 "And Scindia?" said the doctor. 
 
 "Of him I am sure," answered Andre. " He picked 
 the child up on the roadside. He says there was a 
 woman with her who declared that the child was sent 
 to bring him good fortune, and then disappeared. He 
 would have left Ursula behind, but, strange to tell, 
 his horse would not move until he took the child up
 
 The Silver Hand 177 
 
 with him. It is that same animal which stands 
 whinnying in the field adjoining the little house she 
 lives in. It brought her all the way from Poona up 
 to Agra. The other women came on elephants, but 
 she rode Mirza. She must have learnt how to ride, for 
 she has a splendid seat, and is perfectly without fear. 
 I cannot imagine what will ultimately become of her. 
 Sometimes I am inclined to carry her away, but where 
 to? — and then she is so well guarded." 
 
 " How old should you say she is?" asked the 
 doctor. 
 
 "Between eleven and twelve," answered Andre. 
 " She has grown a great deal during her illness and 
 since. When I first saw her she was so small and 
 fragile she might have been any age; but now she 
 is quite different, and she is remembering, only I 
 cannot get a chance of questioning her; I never see 
 her alone." 
 
 "Do you think she is French or English?" asked 
 the doctor. 
 
 "Certainly not French," answered Andre. "She 
 hardly understood the language at first, and even 
 now she does not speak it like a French child. But 
 I have never heard her speak a word of English. 
 Hindustani was more familiar to her than either of 
 the other languages." 
 
 "What conclusions have you come to concerning 
 her?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " She has been stolen, of course, and Krishna is 
 at the bottom of it," said St. Lubin. " Ursula knew 
 her from the very first. When my cousin and I first 
 saw the child she had been heavily drugged with 
 opium, so heavily that she was under the influence of 
 it to such an extent that she would have died or 
 
 (B«4t5) 12
 
 178 The Silver Hand 
 
 gone out of her mind if it had not been put a stop 
 
 to." 
 
 "Surely it must be her child; only mother and child 
 could so resemble each other!" exclaimed the doctor. 
 
 "Whose child?" asked Andre\ But the doctor did 
 not answer him at once; he was thinking. 
 
 "Could you get me a free pass from Scindia, by 
 which I might be ensured of a safe journey across 
 country to Madras?" he asked. "Once I was there, 
 I believe this mystery would be cleared up, and the 
 child restored to her own people." 
 
 "It is impossible for Scindia to ensure your safety,' 
 said Andr6; "there are so many petty chiefs, who 
 are to-day friendly with the English, to-morrow up 
 in arms against them. The Mahrattas, though they 
 call themselves a Confederacy, are divided amongst 
 themselves. I am sure Scindia will not wish to de- 
 tain you in Agra, and would doubtless conduct you 
 as far as Delhi, but I doubt if he can do more." 
 
 "Well, I must be content with that," said the 
 doctor. " I dare say I shall manage to reach Madras 
 somehow. Will you see what you can do for me, 
 Count? That child, as you know, must be rescued 
 from her present position before she is much older, 
 or they will be marrying her to one of their own 
 chiefs or rajahs, and then no one can interfere." 
 
 "I am of your opinion," said St. Lubin ; "but 
 will you not tell me the reason for your sudden 
 interest in the little one?" 
 
 The doctor hesitated for a second; he had grown 
 very fond of St. Lubin. The patience with which he 
 had borne his sufferings (and we must not compare 
 the sufferings of wounds to-day to what they were 
 at a time when there were no anaesthetics) had touched
 
 The Silver Hand 179 
 
 him greatly, more especially because he had realized 
 that in this young nobleman the moral pain of being 
 thus maimed was as great as the physical. His pride 
 of race rose in rebellion against the severing of a 
 limb, as if it had been a disgrace. And then he was 
 by nature so courteous. There was no doubt about it. 
 Andre" was a born gentleman, a Christian, and as simple 
 as a child. The doctor and Sandy had a sense of shame 
 for their own indifference to holy things when they saw 
 him, day after day, fulfil his religious duties, say his 
 prayers night and morning, sign himself with the sign 
 of the cross before he broke bread, and all quite natu- 
 rally without affectation or parade. Therefore it was 
 that the doctor felt he was a man to be trusted, and 
 so he, comparatively an old man, was able to speak to 
 this young man, and to tell him of whom the child's face 
 reminded him. 
 
 Reverently Andrd listened to him. Even as he valued 
 his religion, so he knew that love and womanhood were 
 alike sacred things in a man's life. "Of course you 
 cannot be mistaken," he said. " I wish you could see 
 and speak with Ursula. I think you might rouse her." 
 
 He had hardly uttered these words when they found 
 themselves on the border of a small lake, or "tag" as 
 it is called in India, lying between the mountain ridges. 
 A palki, with its bearers, was waiting at a little dis- 
 tance under the shadow of a group of trees. 
 
 This lake was held in high reverence by the inhabi- 
 tants of Agra, because close by there was a holy figure 
 of Buddha carved in stone. It had been found there 
 one morning; how or when it had been conveyed to 
 that particular spot no one knew. It was considered 
 a miracle, and therefore doubly honoured. 
 
 The figure was more than usually large, and stood
 
 i8o The Silver Hand 
 
 forth with a certain grandeur. At the present moment 
 two figures were slowly moving round it. One was 
 evidently a native woman; the other, though she was 
 also in native dress, was clearly a lightly built, slim 
 girl. 
 
 She was walking round the god, examining it closely. 
 Suddenly she stopped, bent forward, and, rising on tip- 
 toe, touched one of the hands ; then she held something 
 up to her companion, which, as the sun touched it, 
 shone. Ursula, for it was she, looked up in astonish- 
 ment, and in doing so caught sight of the doctor and 
 Andre\ She did not hesitate, notwithstanding an 
 attempt of Krishna's to stop her, but came running 
 towards them. The two men instantly dismounted, 
 and, holding their horses, went to meet her. 
 
 "See what I have found!" she exclaimed, holding 
 out her hand; and they saw that she held in hers a 
 silver hand of exquisite workmanship. 
 
 They both looked at it with astonishment. It was 
 a right hand, and when Andre" took it from her tc 
 examine it he noticed that it was exactly the size of 
 his own hand, and that by some interior mechanism 
 the joints moved. A strange feeling crept over him 
 as he handed it to the doctor; but the doctor was 
 looking at Ursula, and took it listlessly. 
 
 "Come and show me where you found it," said 
 Andre\ 
 
 "Ah, but I will not leave it with him!" said Ursula. 
 "It is mine. The gods must have sent it to me for 
 you." And she took it away from the doctor almost 
 angrily. 
 
 Then he recovered from his stupor, and said, still 
 looking at her: "Will you not let me see it?" 
 
 He spoke in English. For a moment she seemed
 
 The Silver Hand 181 
 
 puzzled, tried to answer him, but, instead, burst into 
 tears. 
 
 At that moment Krishna came up, drew her sari 
 across her face, and, turning to the men, said sharply: 
 "What have you done to her?" 
 
 " We have done nothing," said Andre. " She showed 
 us that silver hand, and then broke out crying." 
 
 "Come, Ursula, my little friend, stop crying, and 
 show us where you found this wonderful thing." 
 
 She recovered herself instantly, threw back her veil 
 impatiently, and, like a child, holding out her free hand 
 to Andr6, said: "Come!" and the two went on in front 
 together, the others following.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A Prophecy Fulfilled 
 
 "Here, just here," said Ursula, and together they 
 stood beside the figure of the god. Then she raised 
 herself on tiptoe and placed the wonderful silver hand 
 inside the palm of the god's right hand. 
 
 It was no ordinary figure. The face was well cut, 
 the features almost delicate and of a pleasing expres- 
 sion, the eyelids closed. A sort of pointed headdress 
 lent a completeness to the quiet, happy countenance. 
 The arms were raised to the height of the breast, the 
 left hand supporting the right hand ; the fingers of both 
 were only partially closed; such was the image of the 
 Buddha. Ursula replaced her treasure where she had 
 found it, and she and Andr£ stood looking at it. They 
 were so engrossed that they did not notice that the 
 doctor and Krishna had lingered behind. 
 
 Krishna was standing before the doctor almost bent 
 to the ground. 
 
 " You had better speak at once, and speak the truth ; 
 for if you do not I shall have you taken to the court at 
 Madras and have you judged there, and your punish- 
 ment will be severe — as severe as the laws of England 
 can make it. Rest assured of that." 
 
 "What do you want to know?" she asked in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " Who is the child?" he asked. 
 
 "Why do you ask me?" she answered, lifting her 
 
 182
 
 A Prophecy Fulfilled 183 
 
 head and looking up at him with a cunning expression 
 in her black eyes. 
 
 " Very well," he said; " I will tell you who I believe 
 her to be. If I am wrong, you can tell me; if right, 
 you will hold up your hand; and then I shall require 
 to know why you have brought her here and acted the 
 false part you have done." 
 
 Once again Krishna bowed her head to the earth. 
 
 " I knew the mother of that child. We were boy 
 and girl together," continued the doctor. " She 
 married, and I lost sight of her. I met her at a ball 
 at Madras. I learnt that she was the wife of one of 
 the richest men in the presidency, and that her name 
 was Carmichael. Later I heard that she was dead. 
 To-day I have seen her child, for the girl you call 
 Ursula is her living image. How did she come here?" 
 
 "Pardon me, sahib," said Krishna. "I brought 
 her because I love her. All you say is true. She is the 
 daughter of the Sahib and the Memsahib Carmichael. 
 The Mahrattas attacked and slew all her people, and 
 I fled with her. ' I will take her to my own country,' I 
 thought, ' and watch over her, and she will marry a 
 great prince and be a ranee'; and it was as if the gods 
 were with me. I put her to sleep, and carried her 
 many hours, days, and weeks; and she lost her reason, 
 and when she awoke she had forgotten everything — 
 her own language, her people; she began a new life. 
 The Frenchman taught her, and she learnt. Some- 
 times she would have glimmerings, certain things 
 would seem familiar to her; then again she would 
 forget." 
 
 "Why did you not tell Scindia, or the Count, who 
 she was?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " I was afraid, and she was so well and so content
 
 184 The Silver Hand 
 
 — why should she be disturbed? I waited till she 
 should herself awake and ask me of the past, but she 
 never has. Now, what will you do? Will you punish 
 me? I love the child. You will not take her from 
 me?" 
 
 "Not if you promise to obey me in all things," 
 answered the doctor. 
 
 Again Krishna bowed to the ground, with hands 
 crossed on her bosom, in token of submission. 
 
 " I will obey the sahib in all things," she answered. 
 
 At that moment they saw Andre and Ursula coming 
 towards them. 
 
 "Tell me, is this trick of the silver hand your doing? 
 Do you know anything about it?" asked the doctor. 
 
 "Nothing, sahib. Krishna knows nothing; it is the 
 work of the gods." 
 
 Andre's face was very white as he approached. He 
 was himself carrying the silver hand. Ursula was 
 walking beside him. She was beaming. 
 
 "It is right, quite right," she said. 
 
 "What is quite right?" asked the doctor. 
 
 "The hand," answered Andre; "it is a facsimile 
 of my own hand, and I believe, if it could be fastened 
 on my wrist and be made firm, I should be able to use 
 it. If I wore a glove over it no one would know the 
 difference. 
 
 "Let me see," said the doctor. 
 
 He took the hand and examined it closely. It was a 
 most perfect work of art ; the mechanism was astonish- 
 ing. It was hollow, and fashioned in such a way that 
 evidently, when fastened securely on the arm, the hand 
 and each finger would be responsive to the will of the 
 wearer. 
 
 " It is very wonderful," said the doctor. " How did
 
 LA REPLACED HER TREASURE WHERE SHE HAD FOUND IT 
 
 Pane [82
 
 A Prophecy Fulfilled 185 
 
 the artist — for the maker could be nothing less — be- 
 come possessed of the exact size of your hand and 
 wrist?" 
 
 As he spoke he turned the hand over to examine the 
 inside, and in the middle of the palm he saw an infini- 
 tesimal knob. He touched it. The hand opened out, 
 and showed numerous fine silver threads passing up to 
 the finger tips. 
 
 "Give me your arm," said the doctor. 
 
 Andre held out the injured member. The doctor 
 turned up the sleeve of his coat, placed the silver hand 
 in the right position, then gently closed it. The spring 
 snapped, and without any undue pressure the hand 
 and the arm were united. 
 
 "Well?" said the doctor. 
 
 "It is all right," answered Andre\ "I feel neither 
 pain nor inconvenience of any kind." 
 
 Then slowly he began to move the arm. He found 
 that every articulation was easy ; the wrist bent, the 
 finger joints moved at his will. He held out his hand 
 and took the doctor's, closing his fingers over his. 
 
 "They strike cold," said the doctor grimly. 
 
 " It is extraordinary," said Andre\ 
 
 "Very much so," answered the doctor. 
 
 " Let us ride back to Agra and show it to Scindia. 
 He may be able to throw some light on the mystery," 
 said Andre\ 
 
 " Why should you seek to fathom the works of the 
 gods?" said Krishna. "Do you not fear to anger 
 them? Accept in silence and with thanksgiving the 
 good they send you, and question not, lest you offend 
 them and they take back their gift. That is the 
 ♦Buddha of Bliss'." 
 
 "Your advice is good, Krishna. We will not ques-
 
 1 86 The Silver Hand 
 
 tion ; we will merely make known the good fortune 
 which has befallen us. Shall we call the bearers of 
 your palki? We have remained so long- that the heat 
 is beginning - to be very great." 
 
 In a few minutes the palki and the bearers came up, 
 and, having seen Krishna and Ursula installed therein, 
 the doctor and Andre went together up to the Buddha 
 and examined it. The placid countenance, so still and 
 yet so full of expression, surprised them. Andre showed 
 where the hand had been found. 
 
 "Of course it is not a chance thing; someone has 
 done it, and I would give a great deal to find out who 
 that someone is," he said. 
 
 "I should not try too much," said the doctor. "I 
 expect we have not heard the last of it. I am curious 
 to hear what Scindia will say." 
 
 Then they mounted their horses and rode away. 
 
 When Sandy saw the silver hand he flew into a 
 passion. 
 
 " It is uncanny," he said. " I thought you were a 
 godly man. Cast it from you ! It is the work of the 
 evil one." 
 
 "Nonsense, Sandy!" said the doctor; "it is a very 
 good hand, and very well made." 
 
 "Ay, that's just it," answered Sandy. "Do you 
 think the deil would serve ye with secondhand goods? 
 He's too canny to do that." 
 
 " I'm afraid I cannot make up my mind to do as you 
 desire, Sandy," said Andre. 
 
 They had ridden into the compound in front of 
 Scindia's palace. Sandy had seen them, and come out 
 to meet them. Standing by Andre's horse to help him 
 to dismount, he had immediately seen the hand, and in 
 a few words the doctor had told him how Andre had
 
 A Prophecy Fulfilled 187 
 
 come by it. Then he had spoken his mind. Naturally 
 superstitious, as the Scotch Highlander is, he had 
 resented the whole occurrence. 
 
 " It willna bring you good luck," he repeated. 
 
 The words were hardly out of his mouth when 
 Scindia, accompanied by his uncle, a high-caste 
 Brahmin, who was also a priest, came towards them. 
 Andre rode forward to meet him, holding the reins 
 in his right hand ; as he approached them the Brah- 
 min stood still. Suddenly he prostrated himself on 
 the ground, muttering words in Hindustani so rapidly 
 that neither Andre nor the doctor could understand 
 him. Then he paused, but remained still crouched 
 on the ground, his arms crossed on his bosom 
 and his head in the dust. Scindia appeared deeply 
 moved. 
 
 "What does it all mean?" asked Andr£; "what is 
 he saying? " 
 
 "Dismount and come with me into the palace and 
 I will tell you," answered Scindia. 
 
 Both Andr^ and the doctor obeyed. Every eye was 
 fixed on the silver hand — the Brahmin gazed on it 
 with admiration, Sandy with something between anger 
 and fear, Scindia with veneration. The prince led the 
 way into the great hall, and, standing at the top of 
 the room, he invited all those present to approach. 
 Then, turning to Andr£, he said: 
 
 "It is no common thing which has taken place, 
 but the fulfilment of an ancient prophecy. It is 
 written in our records that two strangers should come 
 and dwell peacefully in the midst of us, that one of 
 these strangers from the far west should be possessed 
 of an invincible silver hand, that he should command 
 our armies, and that thenceforth the Mahratta Con-
 
 1 88 The Silver Hand 
 
 federacy should attain its highest degree of power. 
 Behold, the day has come, the will of God is about 
 to be fulfilled. Have I spoken rightly, my mother's 
 brother?" 
 
 "You have, Prince," answered the Brahmin; "there 
 is no doubt. Behold the man who is to make of us a 
 great nation! Bow down before him, make him the 
 chief of your army, let the people also bow down 
 before him." And, suiting the action to the word, 
 he took hold of Prince Scindia's hand, and together 
 they made obeisance before Andre\ 
 
 He was overcome. " Indeed you are mistaken," he 
 said; "I have but little knowledge of the art of war. 
 I was never in a real battle, and I should not know 
 how to order a battle or to be the leader of men. My 
 cousin, who was with me, knows far more than I do. 
 You must send for him." 
 
 The Brahmin smiled incredulously. 
 
 " If such be the will of your high mightiness it shall 
 be done; we will send for the Count Raymond. But 
 I warn you he cannot take your place; you and you 
 alone can lead our armies to battle. You must show 
 yourself to the people as the ordained of God, the 
 Silver Hand ! We have waited for you for upwards 
 of a hundred years. You are our leader. I beseech 
 you tell me how you came by the holy thing. Did 
 Buddha himself bring it you?" 
 
 "By no means," answered Andre with a certain 
 impatience. "It was brought to me by a little maid 
 whom you all know, the lost child whom Prince Scindia 
 found and in his pity took to his wife that she might 
 care for her. She wandered out this morning beyond 
 the walls of Agra, accompanied by Krishna, her woman 
 servant. When near the tag (lake) she saw the new
 
 A Prophecy Fulfilled 189 
 
 image of ' The Buddha of Bliss ', which appeared there 
 no one knows how or when. The child's curiosity 
 was excited ; she went close up to it, and, standing on 
 tiptoe, she looked into the palm of the god's hands, 
 and there, shining white in the morning sun, was 
 this;" and he held up his hand. Instantly Scindia, the 
 Brahmin priest, and all those in the hall, which had 
 gradually been filling, prostrated themselves. 
 
 "This is dreadful!" said Andr£; "what am I to 
 do?" 
 
 "Nothing!" answered the doctor. "Take what 
 comes to you; if you are to be a great man, play 
 your part well." 
 
 At that moment a cry went up from the crowd : 
 "We would see the holy thing, the gift of Buddha 
 to his people." 
 
 Now Andr6 was an unusually tall man, but he 
 found himself suddenly hoisted on the shoulders of 
 two turbaned Indians, who carried him down the 
 great hall. The people made way for him, and threw 
 themselves on the ground as he approached ; from the 
 hall he passed out into the compound. The news had 
 already spread. The prophecy was fulfilled, the silver 
 hand had been found in Buddha's lap, and lo! it was 
 the stranger's hand. It was he who was ordained to 
 lead them to battle ; they were to be great among 
 nations. The Mogul, the Tiger himself, was to bow 
 down before them. And the air was rent with cries; 
 yells of triumph reached to the far-distant corners of 
 the city, and men, women, and children came run- 
 ning from all parts. A space had been kept in the 
 immediate vicinity of the hero, and round him all the 
 great men, the princes, the chieftains, all who were 
 reckoned worthy of such honour, surrounded him.
 
 190 The Silver Hand 
 
 Gradually there came over Andr6 St. Lubin's soul a 
 feeling that he was no longer himself, but a man 
 who had lived in times past, that now he had come 
 back into the world to do some especial work, after 
 which he would disappear again. 
 
 His face, which had always been so mobile, became 
 set and hard ; he saw the people surging round him, 
 he heard their cries, but they did not move him ; he was 
 petrified, a block of stone even as Buddha himself. 
 
 Thus he was carried all round the city, always with 
 his hand raised (indeed, seeing that he would not be 
 able to hold it aloft, Scindia had taken a place beside 
 him, and with his own hand supported his arm). But 
 Andre" was aware of nothing; like a man in a dream 
 he felt himself carried on. Would it never come to 
 an end? At last the bearers paused before the Pearl 
 Mosque. They mounted the steps and stood in front 
 of the great dome; then something awoke within him 
 a sense of revolt. " I will not enter," he said. " It 
 is enough ; put me down ; " but before they could obey 
 him he had placed a hand on each shoulder of his 
 bearers, and leapt lightly to the ground. To his as- 
 tonishment he felt his arm gripped, and heard Sandy's 
 voice close to his ear saying: "I knew you wouldna 
 worship in the temple of Baal." As he spoke he 
 took off his Scotch bonnet and put it on Andre's 
 head. Andre" never really realized how, but he found 
 himself on the edge of the crowd, running for dear 
 life.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A Surprise 
 
 Phyllis and her mother threw themselves eagerly 
 into the work of preparing for Mrs. Burgess, and the 
 men watched and encouraged them. The restoration 
 of the old house was more important to them for the 
 time being than the news of battles lost or won. 
 After much trouble and considerable danger Mrs. 
 Burgess arrived at Madras, but, alas! she was well- 
 nigh brokenhearted when she was told of her brother's 
 death and Robert's departure for the seat of war. She 
 was naturally inclined to melancholy, therefore it took 
 the greater hold on her. Frank's departure for India 
 had been a grievance, but that Robert should have 
 left her was more than she could endure. She wept 
 incessantly. In vain Mrs. Rayner and Phyllis sought 
 to console her. She was inconsolable. Robert had 
 always been her darling. 
 
 She refused to speak to Frank. His offence was 
 unpardonable; he had no right to let his brother go. 
 And Ursula! she had been sent for purposely for the 
 child, and she too was gone. What was there left for 
 her to do? 
 
 "Why, Aunt Louisa, do you not think Frank and 
 I need looking after? We are a couple of poor 
 bachelors; you must take pity on us. I know it is 
 very different from what you expected, but the worst 
 is over, and Madras is picking herself up. I heard 
 
 191
 
 192 The Silver Hand 
 
 the other day that the officers at Fort St. Williams 
 were talking of giving - a ball. Susan will have to 
 come out. She is the last importation, and will, I 
 expect, have a great success." 
 
 " I cannot understand you, Felix," said his aunt, 
 with considerable dignity and an air of reproach. 
 "I have only just heard of my dear brother's death, 
 the loss of my niece, and Robert's departure, and 
 you talk of balls. It is to my mind scarcely decent." 
 And she turned away. 
 
 "You must forgive me, Aunt Louisa," said Felix, 
 "but if you could only realize how everything has 
 been crowded into so short a time. It seems years 
 since my father and Ursula were taken from me. I 
 cannot believe so much has really happened in little 
 more than one year; when I think of it, it is like a 
 dream. Is it not so, Frank?" 
 
 "It is indeed," answered his cousin. "You can 
 have no idea, mother, what we have gone through, and 
 Felix is so anxious you should not be oppressed by it 
 all. It is his great desire to shield you and Susan from 
 the effects of all that has happened which makes him 
 speak and act as he does. Is it not better for us all 
 that you should take up life where you find us, not 
 drag us back to that past which we would so gladly 
 forget, as far as it lies in our power to forget." 
 
 "You must take your own line of conduct and 
 do as you choose, but I cannot wear a cheerful coun- 
 tenance and go out into the world when my heart 
 is rent with sorrow for the living and the dead," 
 said Mrs. Burgess. And having so spoken she left 
 the room. 
 
 "Why do you pay any attention to mother?" said 
 Susan, who throughout the conversation had kept
 
 A Surprise 193 
 
 silence. "It is all very terrible," and tears gathered 
 in the girl's eyes, "and of course it is a great shock. 
 I am almost tempted to say with mother : ' What is 
 the use of our having come out?' But if you think 
 we can make things better for you, why then it is 
 all right. I will do my best, but you must not ex- 
 pect much from mother; she always has some fancied 
 grievance, and now she has a real one you must 
 just let her air it. If only you had not let Bob go, 
 Frank!" 
 
 "That was my doing," said Felix; "it was better 
 to let him go under authority than to have him run 
 away again, which is what he would have done." 
 
 "I am sure he would," said Susan; "but in that 
 case mother could not have blamed you." 
 
 "I think we can survive it," said Felix. "But I 
 really am sorry; you are likely to have such a bad 
 time of it. Frank and I will do our best for you, 
 and there are some nice people who are sure to call 
 as soon as it is known you have arrived." 
 
 Susan laughed: "You may rest assured that mother 
 will not receive callers for six months at least," she said, 
 "and then only the chosen few. We have our mourn- 
 ing to get; that will be an occupation. Though how 
 we are to wear bombasine and crape in this climate 
 is more than I can imagine!" 
 
 "You must not dream of such a thing," said Felix. 
 " I will drive you out to the Rayners' this evening, 
 and they will tell you how to manage. If you must 
 wear black, it must be of the thinnest. I should have 
 thought something white would have done for you." 
 
 " I am sure I wish it would," she said eagerly. 
 " I have brought such sweet white frocks out with me. 
 I could not help crying this morning when that black 
 
 (B946) 13
 
 194 The Silver Hand 
 
 woman was unpacking- them, and going into ecstasies 
 over them. Suddenly she sank down on the floor 
 and began crying too, calling out: ' Sahibah Ursula!' 
 I suppose she meant my little cousin, and that the 
 white frocks made her think of her." 
 
 "That's about it," said Felix; "but you must not 
 let that trouble you. Ursula was simply adored by 
 the natives, and they mourn for her passionately." 
 
 "I am told you have never been able to find out 
 whether she is dead or alive," said Susan. 
 
 There was something cold in his sister's voice, which 
 jarred upon Frank's nerves. He turned sharply to her, 
 saying: "Susan, we never speak of our darling; we 
 are waiting for her to come back to us;" and with that 
 he left the room. Felix did not resume the conversation 
 for a few minutes — evidently it was a tender subject, 
 — but at last he said cheerfully : 
 
 " I must go to the office, or I shall have Bennett 
 down upon me; the old boy keeps me up to the 
 mark, though it is dull work. I'm afraid we have 
 none of us a real love of business as my father had. 
 As long as he was alive, and there was the home, it 
 was all right, but it has never been the same since 
 his death. There, you see, we always go back to the 
 old sad subject; you must get us out of the habit, 
 Susan. At all events we'll go for a good drive to-night 
 and we'll pick Phyllis up. I want you to know her; 
 she's been so awfully plucky all through the trouble. I 
 hope you will like her." Then he left the room. 
 
 Certainly Felix did not know much about girls, or he 
 would not have made that speech. Left alone, Susan 
 threw herself into a lounge and reflected: "I don't 
 believe I shall like that girl the least little bit. I 
 believe she's the goody-goody sort. I heard Frank
 
 A Surprise 195 
 
 talking- to mother about a Refuge, and what fine work 
 this Phyllis had done during the famine among the 
 Indian children; now I don't mean to be made to 
 do anything of the sort. It is quite enough to have 
 one missionary in the family; in fact I am afraid 
 life is going to be anything but cheerful out here 
 — what between Phyllis the good and St. Ursula! 
 Privately, I believe that child must have been a little 
 horror. Mother always said so. Well, we shall see;" 
 and, partly overcome by the heat, she fell into a com- 
 fortable sleep, from which she was roused by Felix's 
 voice saying laughingly: 
 
 "Who was to be ready to drive with me?" 
 
 "Oh, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, jumping up. 
 "I will not keep you waiting long." And she disap- 
 peared, to return in the space of a quarter of an hour 
 a perfect Hebe of freshness, in white muslin, white 
 ribbons, and white bonnet, all of the last London 
 fashion, which had not yet reached Madras. Felix 
 looked at her with surprise and a certain degree of 
 pleasure. As we have said before, she was not really 
 pretty, but she had all the freshness of an English girl, 
 and her long sea voyage had given her such an ap- 
 pearance of health as was not often seen in India. 
 
 Felix looked at her with admiration, and said 
 laughingly: "Why, Susan, you will make all the 
 ladies of Madras jealous, and I shall make all the 
 men hate me ! There's not a girl in the whole Presi- 
 dency can hold a candle to you." 
 
 Susan blushed and giggled, saying: "I expect 
 you're a long way behind in the fashions out here, 
 Cousin Felix." 
 
 "I guess we are," said Felix; "at all events I 
 have never seen anything like you before." And,
 
 196 The Silver Hand 
 
 taking her hand, he led her to an open carnage, 
 which was waiting for them, and lifted her in, for 
 it was swung on high wheels, and, taking the reins, 
 drove through Madras with considerable satisfaction. 
 
 Susan's good temper returned, especially as she be- 
 came aware that more than one person turned round 
 to look at her. She began to think it was not such a 
 bad place after all, and that it was just possible she 
 might realize some portion of her dream. To be driving 
 with a handsome young man, the observed of all ob- 
 servers, was by no means a bad beginning. This feeling 
 of self-satisfaction was rather increased than diminished 
 when, having jumped down and entered a bungalow, 
 Felix returned with what seemed to her a plain and 
 decidedly shabbily dressed girl. " So that is the won- 
 derful Phyllis!" she thought, and inwardly laughed 
 at the mere idea of such a rival. After all, she was 
 only a clerk's daughter, quite a common person ! 
 But Felix did not seem to think so. He helped 
 Phyllis into the gig as carefully as he had helped her; 
 and all the time, after he had introduced the two 
 girls to each other, he talked to her. It seemed 
 quite natural; they had so much to say to each 
 other. Several times Phyllis turned to Susan, asking 
 her about England and her voyage, telling her how 
 anxious they had all been when no news came of 
 them. "After all," she said, "it was for the best, 
 for it would have been terrible for you to arrive in 
 the middle of that famine." 
 
 Somehow she found Susan anything but responsive; 
 but in her charity she put it down to her feeling 
 strange, and the effect of all the bad news she had 
 heard. 
 
 " She'll be all right in a week or two," she thought.
 
 A Surprise 197 
 
 But in a week or two they were no better acquainted. 
 Indeed Susan had managed to administer two or three 
 sharp remarks, which hurt Phyllis not a little. 
 
 One morning" she had come into town with her 
 father, and, not finding Felix at the office, she had 
 gone on to the house. But he had left early with 
 Frank, and Susan was lounging in the veranda 
 alone, whilst the khansamah was superintending the 
 preparations for breakfast. Phyllis ran up the steps, 
 and, holding out her hand to Susan, said laughingly: 
 " Felix has gained a march on me, and yet I did so 
 want to see him." 
 
 "Is it customary in Madras for young ladies to pay 
 such early visits to their bachelor acquaintances?" 
 said Susan coldly. 
 
 Phyllis flushed crimson. "My father brought me 
 in," she answered, "because the business is of impor- 
 tance and must be seen to at once. Besides," she con- 
 tinued, "we three are rather more than acquaintances. 
 You forget, or you do not perhaps know, Miss Burgess, 
 that Frank, Felix, and I have worked together for over 
 six months ; we are friends. I never thought I was 
 doing anything strange in coming to see Felix on 
 business. I am sorry to have shocked you," she added 
 quickly. 
 
 "Oh I dare say it's all right!" said Susan with a 
 short laugh. "You are very primitive here in India, 
 calling each other by your Christian names; and, after 
 all, your father is only my cousin's clerk. We make 
 distinctions in England." 
 
 Phyllis's eyes opened wide. The vulgarity of the 
 whole thing was so appalling! She felt inclined to 
 laugh, but she restrained herself, and said quite 
 carelessly :
 
 198 The Silver Hand 
 
 " I suppose we are less punctilious than in England. 
 I had almost forgotten; we have gone through so 
 much in the last year that we have grown careless 
 of the little etiquettes of life and the difference of 
 stations. That sort of thing seems so trifling when 
 people are dying round you, and the whole atmosphere 
 is laden, so to speak, with tears. You have never felt 
 like this, so you cannot understand; but it must be 
 my excuse if I have seemed over bold with your 
 brother and cousin. We have been thrown so much 
 together; we have worked and thought and planned 
 together. Even now I cannot do without them; I 
 should be sorry if I could. I must ask you, as I can- 
 not see Felix, to tell him that there is something wrong 
 with the roof at the Orphanage, and I should be glad 
 if he would send a workman to look at it. Goodbye!" 
 
 This time she did not hold out her hand, but just 
 nodded her head, ran down the steps of the veranda, 
 and sprang on to her pony, which a syce had been 
 holding, and so rode away. She soon recovered her- 
 self, and was rather amused than offended with what 
 had just occurred. 
 
 "She's very young, and only a schoolgirl," she 
 thought; "she knows nothing of life. I suppose I 
 do not know much myself! Possibly to a certain 
 extent she may be right. Frank and Felix and I 
 have grown very familiar with each other, but I am 
 sure there is nothing wrong in that; and we have 
 been very happy. I suppose we shall have to pay 
 more attention to our manners, and I shall have to 
 remember that I am only the clerk's daughter! I 
 don't mind that." She gave her head a little toss, 
 touched her pony with the whip, and rode on. If 
 anyone had looked critically at her, they might have
 
 A Surprise 199 
 
 seen that the blue eyes were clouded. She turned 
 a corner sharply, and there, coming- at a quick trot, 
 were both Felix and Frank. They reined up beside 
 her. 
 
 "Anything wrong, Phyllis?" asked Felix. 
 
 "Only something with the pipes and the roof," 
 she answered. " And so I rede in with father to 
 speak to you about them. I wish you would send 
 a man to see after them, Mr. Carmichael." 
 
 "Of course I will; but I'll come round and have 
 a look at them myself first," he said. "But why are 
 you turning your back to the house, and why am I Mr. 
 Carmichael? We are hurrying in to breakfast. Come 
 with us; Susan will be down. It is no longer a 
 bachelor establishment, you know, but a respectable 
 family house." And both he and Frank laughed. 
 
 "Thanks! not to-day," answered Phyllis. "I saw 
 Miss Burgess, and I gave her my message for you. 
 Goodbye!" And, nodding her head, she rode away. 
 
 "Something has gone wrong with Phyllis," said 
 Felix. " I wonder whether the two girls have 
 quarrelled." 
 
 "More than likely," answered Frank. "I noticed 
 that Susan was inclined to be condescending and 
 snappish with Phyllis the other day. After all, we 
 must remember Susan is only just seventeen and a 
 schoolgirl ; her present exalted position may have 
 partially turned her head. I shall have to give her 
 a talking to. I heard her saying to mother: 'Phyllis 
 Rayner; she's only the clerk's daughter, but she gives 
 herself ridiculous airs of familiarity with both Cousin 
 Felix and Frank. I think you ought to speak to 
 her. It is not decent for her to call them plain 
 Frank and Felix.' "
 
 200 The Silver Hand 
 
 "And what did your mother answer?" asked Felix 
 with a note of irritation in his voice. 
 
 " I did not hear properly, only something - about, 
 'She could not really be troubled.' I made up my 
 mind then to give Susan a talking to. We cannot 
 let Phyllis be molested." 
 
 "Certainly not," answered Felix; "and I'm of 
 opinion that she has had a bad time of it this 
 morning. There was a look in her eyes I did not 
 like." With that they both rode on in silence. 
 
 But another event of still greater importance hap- 
 pened a few days later, which threw everything else 
 into the shade. 
 
 Felix was at work in his office one morning, when 
 Raman opened the door and came up softly to him, 
 saying: "Sahib, there is a strange man asking for 
 you!" 
 
 "Well, show him in. What's his name?" said Felix. 
 
 "Dr. Fergusson, he says," answered Raman doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " Fergusson? I seem to have heard the name before. 
 Show him in." 
 
 A second later and a tall man, with grizzled beard, 
 tired face, and travel-stained clothes stood before him. 
 
 "You are Felix Carmichael?" he asked, holding out 
 his hand. 
 
 The young man took it instantly. 
 
 "I am Felix Carmichael," he answered; "and who 
 may you be, sir?" 
 
 "Dr. Fergusson, an old friend of your mother's. I 
 have crossed India to tell you that your sister is 
 living." 
 
 "Ursula!" exclaimed Felix. He had risen to meet 
 his guest. Now he staggered and laid hold of a chair
 
 A Surprise 201 
 
 to steady himself. Unceremoniously the doctor pushed 
 him into it. 
 
 " I am an old fool!" he said. " I might have known 
 it would be a shock to you. But joy is said not to kill ; 
 you will be all right in a few seconds." 
 
 " Indeed I'm all right now," answered Felix. " Pray 
 sit down and tell me all you have to tell me. I do not 
 understand rightly, I fear. Have you really seen Ur- 
 sula?" 
 
 His voice trembled, and there were tears in his eyes 
 as he asked the question. 
 
 Without hesitation the doctor answered him. " I 
 have both seen and spoken with the child. Do you 
 think I would have come half across India if there had 
 been any doubt in my mind as to who she is?" 
 
 So saying he let himself fall into the chair Felix 
 had pushed towards him, and told his story — how 
 he had met Ursula, and how he had recognized her. 
 
 "It is marvellous," said Felix; "it sounds like a 
 fairy tale. Do you really mean to say she has been 
 living all this time at Scindia's Court, and that she has 
 forgotten all about us and her past life?" 
 
 "That is the case," answered Dr. Fergusson. "She 
 must have experienced a very severe shock, and was 
 kept under opiates, which not only destroyed her 
 health, but affected the tissues of her brain. Fortu- 
 nately a very clever Frenchman who has been a long 
 time in India, and had become acquainted with Indian 
 remedies, came across her. I cannot tell you all the 
 particulars now. He administered certain medicines 
 which restored her health, but not her memory, or only 
 partially. Besides, that woman Krishna has been care- 
 ful to keep her as much as possible in the dark, never 
 speaking English to her, or reminding her of anything
 
 >~: 
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 in the past. The Frenchmen (by the by there were two 
 of them), agents from the French king, on the contrary, 
 always spoke their own language with her, and she evi- 
 dently understood them from the first. They are both 
 splendid men, and perfect gentlemen; in fact, men of 
 noble birth, who, like so many others, have been driven 
 to seek their fortunes in India as adventurers. An acci- 
 dent which crippled Andre St. Lubin caused me to be 
 very intimate with them both; indeed it is due to him that 
 we obtained our liberty, and, following him to Agra, dis- 
 covered your sister. I have told you that I knew your 
 mother when she was a girl even younger than Ursula. 
 The likeness is striking; I could not be mistaken." 
 
 "Why did you not bring her away with you?" said 
 Felix. 
 
 "How could I?" answered the doctor. "Krishna 
 told me you had been all killed, and that she had saved 
 the child. I came to see how far this was true. I knew 
 the firm must be still in existence, and there were the 
 child's rights to be considered." 
 
 "Of course," said Felix. "If you will allow me, I 
 will call my cousin, Frank Burgess, and we will consult 
 together. He has been my right hand through all this 
 trouble. Until within the last month or two we have 
 been alone together. Then my father's sister came out 
 with her daughter. She started for India before my 
 father's death, and only knew of our misfortunes after 
 her arrival. It has been a great shock to her." 
 
 " It has been a veritable tragedy," said the doctor. 
 
 "Yes, and all in the space of one short year," said 
 Felix, as he rang the bell. 
 
 Dr. Fergusson had come to the office when from 
 enquiries which he made he found out that the son of 
 Robert Carmichael was living and at the head of the
 
 A Surprise 203 
 
 business. He had only arrived the day before, after 
 a long" and wearisome journev across coun:: 
 
 To the man who had answered his summons Felix 
 said: 
 
 " Tell Mr. Bennett that I want him at once, and send 
 to the house for Mr. Frank Burgess. Ask him also to 
 come without delay.'' 
 
 Bennett was soon on the spot, was introduced to 
 Dr. Fergusson. and heard the tale. 
 
 ••Thank God!" he exclaimed; "our little girl will 
 come back to us : but Krishna, how can she have 
 dared do such a thing?" 
 
 " I think." answered the doctor, 4, her first idea must 
 have been to save the child"s life. Then, her Indian 
 nature gaining the ascendancy, and Scindia coming 
 upon the scene, she thought she would make a great 
 queen or goddess of her. Why she adminstered opium 
 to the degree she did I cannot quite imagine — from 
 ignorance, I should surmise — she could not know the 
 effect on so de. an organization. Of course the 
 
 child must have died or gone mad if it had not been 
 for Count Raymond and young Andre St. Lubin. 
 They saved her, but I warn you she has not recovered 
 her memory, she does not remember her former 1. 
 she is conscious only of all her present surrounding 
 She speaks French and Hindustani, but very little 
 English; indeed I believe that myself and Sandy are 
 the only persons who have spoken English to her. She 
 s generally believed to be French." 
 And you do not think she will know us?" said Felix. 
 
 At that moment Frank came in, and again the story 
 had to be retold. 
 
 "The only thing to be done." he said, "is for you 
 and for me to go and bring her back, Felix. Or
 
 204 The Silver Hand 
 
 course the doctor had no authority to act. They pro- 
 bably would not have let him take her. We will start 
 without delay. You will go back with us, sir?" he said, 
 turning to Dr. Fergusson. 
 
 "You must give me breathing time," he answered. 
 " I have been travelling for over six weeks, and I am 
 wellnigh done up. The difficulties are considerable for 
 travellers in these times. We never know whether we 
 are with enemies or friends, whether the countries we 
 are passing through are favourable to the English or 
 not. Fortunately Scindia sent an escort with me, so 
 we managed to get through. Now it will be the going 
 back again." 
 
 " Will a week's rest suffice you?" said Frank eagerly. 
 
 " We will do all we can for you," added Felix. " My 
 house is at your service. If you will accompany us 
 now I will take you there and introduce you to my 
 aunt; and my own servant, Raman, will see that you 
 lack for nothing. 
 
 " It will take us nearly a week to make our arrange- 
 ments," he continued. "Bennett, I turn everything 
 over to you. It is a good thing you are my partner." 
 
 "I will do my best," said Bennett. "To see that 
 child's face again will repay me for any trouble or 
 anxiety." And he turned away to hide the tears which 
 filled his eyes. 
 
 So the doctor was taken to the house, and there was 
 not an individual who would not have served him on 
 his knees. "He had seen the ' baba Ursula'. He 
 knew where she was, and they were going to fetch her 
 home." The news spread far and wide, the house was 
 besieged with enquiries, but on no account was the 
 doctor allowed to be disturbed. 
 
 Two men of the escort Scindia had given him had
 
 A Surprise 205 
 
 come as far as Madras with him, and would return 
 with them. Every possible arrangement for a rapid 
 and easy journey was made : relays of horses, the 
 Government g"harry-daks were ordered to meet them 
 at every station on the road, letters from the Governor- 
 General recommending' them to the native chiefs and 
 rajahs were procured, and so, in ten days from the 
 time Dr. Ferg-usson first saw Felix, they were on their 
 way to Agra.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Count Raymond 
 
 Andre was now no longer master of his actions. He 
 was installed in a palace of his own; every honour 
 was paid him ; he had troops of servants ; Scindia him- 
 self consulted him on every subject. He was presented 
 to the whole army as their commander-in-chief; the 
 people, as he passed along- the street, bowed down in 
 homage before him ; his every movement was watched ; 
 guards filled his courtyard; he was verily, as he said, 
 nothing better than a state prisoner. 
 
 One thing he had insisted upon immediately, and that 
 was that a messenger should be sent to Count Ray- 
 mond desiring that he would come to him at Agra. 
 With his own hand Andre* had written to him: 
 
 " Dear Cousin, 
 
 " A -wonderful thing has happened. It is im- 
 possible for me to tell it to you by writing, but your 
 presence is absolutely necessary. Sufficient to say that 
 the command of the army of the Mahratta Confederacy 
 has been given to me, and nothing I can say or do will 
 persuade them to understand that I am not fitted for 
 the position. When you receive this do not hesitate 
 an hour, but come straight back with the messengers. 
 Do not trouble about your journey; everything will be 
 prepared for you. Horses or elephants will be at your 
 command. Materially your fortune is made, and mine 
 
 206
 
 Count Raymond 207 
 
 too, if we survive this period of trial. The doctor and 
 Sandy are still with me, but the doctor will probably 
 have started for Madras before your arrival. Sandy I 
 will never part with, though he resents everything, and 
 is mightily angry at the turn events have taken. 
 
 "I will write you no more. I only entreat you to 
 come with all speed. 
 
 " Your cousin, 
 
 "Andr£ St. Lubin." 
 
 And so Count Raymond came with all possible speed. 
 He was hurried on by the messengers sent for him ; 
 relays of horses, elephants, and palkis awaited him 
 at every station. He was served with royal state, 
 but he had to move on. The same feeling grew upon 
 him as Andre" had experienced; he was a part of a 
 cause, he no longer belonged to himself. When he 
 entered Agra all the great men of the city came out 
 to meet him ; he was conducted to Andrews palace as 
 if he too had been a royal personage. 
 
 He was confounded when he heard the story of 
 what had taken place, but his maturer mind seized 
 the position as Andrews could not; and when the two 
 at last found themselves alone, he, as it were, un- 
 ravelled the difficulties which lay before them. 
 
 " It is a splendid thing," he said to St. Lubin; "we 
 have before us opportunities such as we could never 
 have imagined falling to our lot, and we must make 
 the most of them. Scindia has concluded a sort of 
 peace with the English, but it will not last, and then 
 there are all the neighbouring provinces with their 
 rajahs, who envy the Mahrattas, and keep up a sort 
 of petty warfare with them; they must be reduced
 
 208 The Silver Hand 
 
 to submission. Tippoo Sahib is now the great man. 
 He is master since the fall of Bednore and the treaty 
 to which the rulers of Madras have consented as a 
 termination of their struggle with that monster. He 
 has insulted the English commissioners. Such was 
 their fear of him that, after being detained weeks 
 before they could obtain admission to his presence, 
 they planned to escape to the English ships lying 
 in the roads. Now, however, a treaty has been made, 
 and Tippoo has caused the following inscription to be 
 put up on the walls of Seringapatam : • The English 
 commissioners stood with their heads uncovered, and 
 the treaty in their hands, for two hours, using every 
 form of flattery and supplication to induce compliance. 
 The vakeels of Poona and Haidarabad united in the 
 most abject entreaties, and His Majesty, the Shadow 
 of God, was at last softened into assent.' The basis 
 of this treaty was the restoration of mutual conquests. 
 British prisoners were all released, no fewer than 
 1 80 officers, 9000 British soldiers, and 2000 sepoys 
 were rescued from the dungeons of Seringapatam. 
 Their accounts of the treatment they had received 
 are beyond measure horrible. 
 
 "Thus it is that Tippoo Sahib is for the present 
 master, but it will not last. The feeble rulers of 
 Madras will be removed, the English will not stand 
 such humiliation, and there is a man, Warren Hast- 
 ings, who will change the face of all things. We 
 must therefore profit by the present state of things, 
 and crush the King of Mysore. The English want 
 money, they must have it, and they will drain all the 
 petty rajahs of India to obtain it. Scindia will hold 
 his own, and we must help him. That is our policy; 
 do you understand?"
 
 Count Raymond 209 
 
 "I believe I do," said St. Lubin; "I shall depend 
 upon you entirely for counsel. This idea, that I am 
 an ' incarnation ' sent by their gods to lead them to 
 battle and to conquest, obliges me to keep the ex- 
 alted position I have been placed in. I shall be 
 commander-in-chief in name, you de facto. The 
 great thing now is to train these Mahrattas into 
 organized bodies of soldiers. Their cavalry is, we 
 know, magnificent; the English themselves say it 
 is the one great thing they dread ; we must make 
 the most of it. And now," he said, with something 
 of a return to his old self, "it is no use troubling; 
 I feel a different man since you are by me. Let us 
 speak of something which lies nearer my heart. We 
 have found out to whom Ursula belongs, and how 
 she came amongst the Mahrattas, and the doctor 
 has been dispatched to Madras to make sure there 
 is no mistake. She is said to be the daughter of 
 Robert Carmichael, merchant and banker at Madras." 
 And then he told Count Raymond what we already 
 know. "The doctor saw Ursula before he left," he 
 continued, "and he talked to her, speaking of things 
 which he knew must be familiar to her, and by de- 
 grees the past came back to her, not quite clearly 
 evidently, but sufficiently to arouse her feelings. 
 She has not been told that her father was killed; 
 we will leave that to her own people. The doctor 
 was sent by Scindia, accompanied by a troop of 
 horse, as a messenger from him to the Governor of 
 Madras. By this means the doctor's personal safety 
 was secured. No one would touch an ambassador, 
 and so he is sure to reach Madras with speed, and 
 probably will return with some of the family to fetch 
 the child. Scindia has behaved well towards her, 
 
 (B946) 14
 
 210 The Silver Hand 
 
 and this will certainly be to his advantage. Ursula 
 lives in a house outside the walls. At first I had 
 considerable difficulty about seeing- her, and could 
 only do so by becoming her teacher, but now I have 
 no such trouble. She is not looked upon as an ordi- 
 nary Indian girl ; from the first she was surrounded 
 with a strange superstition, as you will remember. 
 She was considered to have been sent to Scindia by 
 the gods. Up to the time of her coming, his wife 
 had borne him no children ; now they have a son, 
 and it is believed that she has brought them this 
 blessing. Then it was Ursula who found this wonder- 
 ful hand of mine, and again it is said that the gods 
 showed it to her. They call her ' The Blessed One '. 
 Scindia fears greatly that the people will rise and will 
 not allow her to be taken from them. Himself he is 
 unwilling to part with her, and when it is spoken of 
 before his wife, the Princess Laily, she weeps and will 
 not hear of it; so I expect we shall have some difficulty. 
 However, if her people are determined to take her, they 
 will have to let her go, or there will be trouble with 
 England. 
 
 " Will you go with me to see her to-morrow morning 
 early, before the people are abroad? Sandy will take 
 care the road is clear; for I can assure you I can 
 hardly move without being followed." 
 
 Thus it happened that Ursula was surprised at an 
 early hour on the following day to see Count Ray- 
 mond, Andre\ and Sandy coming across the com- 
 pound. She had been sitting listlessly on the ver- 
 anda; since the doctor had talked to her and tried to 
 awaken her memory she had often sat thus, striving 
 to reconstruct the past. She found great difficulty 
 in making Krishna speak to her of it.
 
 Count Raymond 211 
 
 "They will take you away," she said, "and you 
 will not be happy. Your life is lovely here; what 
 do you need? If you go back to your own people, 
 it will be cold and dreary, you will have to learn 
 all manner of things which will weary you, you will 
 no longer sit idle amongst your flowers and birds, 
 you will have no beautiful palace to live in, they 
 will part you from the princess and the babe." 
 
 At this Ursula wept, and Krishna continued: "The 
 English hate the French. They will not let you speak 
 with the young Count, and yet he has saved your 
 life; he is your friend." 
 
 "Yes," said Ursula, "he is my friend," and a 
 sweet smile came over her face, and she remained 
 thoughtful. 
 
 That was what she was doing now, still in her Indian 
 dress of glimmering blue and silver, falling in grace- 
 ful folds to her sandalled feet. As we have said, she 
 had grown tall and slim, the child disappearing in 
 the girl ; and, strange to tell, Sandy, who was bitter 
 towards everyone, hating the Hindus, detesting the 
 life he was called upon to lead, loved this child. 
 He was her slave, never content but when he was 
 fetching and carrying for her. He flattered Krishna, 
 offered to do all manner of services for her, brought 
 her choice fruits from the bazaar, and was always at 
 hand to help in the house or the garden, if only he 
 might see his idol. 
 
 When the doctor had left for Madras he thought 
 that Sandy would accompany him, but he did not. 
 
 "Those two young people may want me," he said. 
 "They have got nothing but the darkies about them; 
 an honest white face won't come amiss." And so he 
 had remained.
 
 212 The Silver Hand 
 
 When Ursula saw the three coming, she rose and 
 moved languidly down the steps of the veranda to 
 meet them. She had been very languid of late; the 
 weather was hot, and she felt it, and yet there was 
 no question of going away to higher regions She 
 was so weary sometimes she could scarcely move, and 
 lay whole days on a couch with the punkah giving 
 her what air there was. 
 
 "You are tired, little one," said Andr6, coming up 
 to her. 
 
 "Yes, I am tired," she said, "oh, so tired, 
 Andrei" 
 
 "You must go up into the hills," he said; "I will 
 see to it. Here is my cousin, Raymond." Ursula 
 held out her hand to the Count. 
 
 She spoke French with that delicate intonation 
 of voice which makes a language, of itself sweet, 
 sweeter. The Count bowed over the small, white 
 hand. 
 
 Then they went back to the veranda, and Krishna 
 brought the early breakfast, consisting of coffee, chapa- 
 tees, and all manner of good things, but Ursula once 
 more laid herself down on the couch listlessly, and 
 would not partake of anything but a cup of coffee 
 which Sandy brought her, saying coaxingly: 
 
 "Drink ye this, missie; it will do you good." 
 
 He always spoke English to her, he and the doctor, 
 and somehow, without being aware of it, she under- 
 stood. The doctor had observed this to Andre" one 
 day. "You see," he said, "the knowledge is not 
 gone; it is only dormant. She must have had a 
 great shock, and only what she has heard and seen 
 since has come back to her; but it is all there, as 
 occasion offers it will return."
 
 Count Raymond 21 
 
 o 
 
 "And you think she will remember everything?" 
 said Andre. 
 
 "Not everything, perhaps," answered the doctor, 
 " but most things." 
 
 Count Raymond could not but notice the beauty of 
 their surroundings. The lawns and gardens were ex- 
 quisite; the great trees waved to and fro, creating a 
 natural breeze, scented by flowers. The little house 
 itself was trellised with creeping plants, oriental flower- 
 ing shrubs grew in clumps here and there. And then 
 the stillness ! Save for the singing of the birds it was 
 dreamlike. There seemed to be no world beyond the 
 precincts of that garden. He understood that the child 
 was loath to leave it. She had, so to speak, passed 
 through a cloud, from which she had emerged into 
 light. She had no desire to go forth again ; children 
 seldom have any desire to leave their homes. So he 
 sat down beside her, and spoke to her soothingly. 
 
 "You will be leaving us," he said, "and Andrd will 
 be sad. Why must you go? The people love you; 
 your life is pleasant to you; stay with us." 
 
 "But the doctor says," she answered, "that these 
 are not my people, and that my own have been sor- 
 rowing for me; so if they come to fetch me, I shall 
 have to go." 
 
 "Not of necessity," said Count Raymond. "You 
 have but to say a word to Scindia and he will send 
 you with the princess to one of his other palaces up 
 in the north among the hills, and they will not find 
 you." 
 
 "Then my people will be angry," said Ursula, "and 
 they will make war with Scindia, and there will be 
 battles and bloodshed. Ah!" she said, rising suddenly, 
 " I remember. They came with spears and fire, and
 
 21, 
 
 The Silver Hand 
 
 I saw men fall to the ground wounded, and then there 
 were the flames, and shrieks fell upon my ears, and — 
 and— I forget." She dropped back into her seat and 
 covered her face with her hands. " I will have no 
 fighting," she murmured, "no bloodshed." After that 
 she did not speak again for some time. Then she 
 looked at Andre and said: "Sing to me, Andre. You 
 know, the morning song, the Te Deam." And Andre" 
 sang to her with his full, clear voice, and when he had 
 finished they looked at her, and she was asleep. 
 
 Count Raymond bent over her, examined her face 
 and touched her hands; then, lifting himself up, he 
 said: 
 
 "Let her sleep; it is nature doing its own work. 
 She is struggling and striving, and nature is helping 
 her, but," he added, "she is very fragile. Whether 
 she will be strong enough to bear the struggle is 
 another question. Let her sleep." 
 
 Softly they all left her, and she remained alone on 
 the veranda, and Krishna sat on a cushion beside her, 
 and flicked away the flies, and crooned an old Hindoo 
 ditty, and Ursula slept through the long hours of that 
 day. She awoke for neither food nor drink. 
 
 Where had her soul flown to? And, when it returned 
 to her, would she remember? 
 
 The day was over, the sun was set. Two men in 
 European dress pushed open the great gate leading into 
 the garden. Another man followed them, an elderly 
 man. He touched one of his companions on the arm. 
 
 "There she is," he said. 
 
 The two went quickly forward. A cry escaped 
 Krishna; she sprang from her seat, and ran away, 
 crying: "Sahib Felix! Sahib Frank!" But they both 
 held up their hands. The child was still sleeping.
 
 Count Raymond 215 
 
 Then Felix went forward and bent over her. His 
 eyes were full of tears as he gazed at that beautiful 
 vision. She looked so fragile, as if she would have 
 passed away with a breath; but she was smiling in her 
 sleep. The troubling and the weariness which had 
 been there when she lay down were gone now ; she 
 was rested. 
 
 "My little sister!" Felix whispered, and straightway 
 she opened her eyes. 
 
 He fell on his knees beside her. Still she looked at 
 him. 
 
 "My little sister!" he repeated once more, and she 
 lifted her hands. The smile grew brighter. She said 
 quite clearly : 
 
 "Felix! Dear Felix!" 
 
 Then he took her in his arms and kissed her. 
 
 "Thank God I have found you, Ursula!" he said. 
 
 "Yes, thank God!" she answered. 
 
 With Indian hospitalities Scindia entertained them; 
 indeed he and Felix became great friends. It seemed 
 for the time being as if they had all forgotten their 
 national and political existences and were friends and 
 equals. Count Raymond and St. Lubin fraternized with 
 the newcomers, and naturally they talked not a little 
 of the wonderful things which had befallen St. Lubin, 
 and the position which he had suddenly attained to. 
 
 " I cannot understand it in the least," said Andr6 to 
 Frank, "and I cannot say I like it. There is some 
 mystery which is so far unfathomable. This hand," 
 and he showed him the silver hand, "must have been 
 modelled upon my own ; it is exactly the same. The 
 mechanism is marvellous." He touched the knob in 
 the palm, and removed it, showing him all the strings, 
 which worked so easily. " I can hold my reins, I can
 
 216 The Silver Hand 
 
 guide my horse, I can do anything- now with this hand," 
 he said, "and when I have my glove over it no one 
 would know but that it is my own. Yet I cannot dis- 
 cover who made it, or how it came to be in the place 
 where we found it. Myself I believe that woman 
 Krishna and the Brahmin priest to be at the bottom of 
 it. The whole of the Mahratta army are so fully per- 
 suaded of its power that they will not go out to the 
 smallest skirmish unless I am at their head, and when I 
 am with them there is nothing- they will not dare to do." 
 
 "Then we shall have to reckon with you," said 
 Felix, laughing, "if Scindia turns his arms against 
 us again." 
 
 " Which I will do my best to prevent," said St. Lubin, 
 "at least in so far as the native chiefs are concerned; 
 but of course I am not responsible; I can only go where 
 I am bidden, and personal feelings cannot regulate our 
 actions." 
 
 "Of course not," answered Felix; "but I pray you 
 to remember that if ever you are in any difficulties, and 
 care to apply to me, I will take your case up to the 
 Government and do my best to extricate you. If you 
 are made prisoner by any of the rajahs or nabobs we 
 English have means at our disposal which we will im- 
 mediately use in your favour. I can never do too much 
 after what you have done for my sister." 
 
 "Ah," said Andre\ "you must not say that! She has 
 been like an angel to me, and when she goes out of my 
 life she will be still in my heart. I shall never forget 
 her." 
 
 Very gently Felix and Frank broke the inevitable to 
 Ursula; for, knowing how attached she was to the 
 princess and her surroundings, they feared the effect of 
 parting upon her. But they were mistaken, for when
 
 
 URSULA RIDES OUT OF AGRA ESCORTED BY SCINDIA 
 AND ST. LUBIN 
 
 I .
 
 Count Raymond 217 
 
 they told her that they must return to Madras, she 
 answered them quite calmly: 
 
 " Of course you must go, and I must go with you." 
 
 All her reason had come back to her; her mind, 
 which apparently had been dormant, suddenly awoke. 
 The strong religious influence which Andre had exerted 
 over her showed itself. She picked up her former 
 life with Frank quite naturally, she told him how she 
 had always remembered that the gods of the Indians 
 were not her gods, but that St. Lubin's God and his 
 Christ had always seemed her own. What had ap- 
 peared mystical about her was, in fact, the development 
 of a strong spiritual nature. Frank recognized this; 
 he recognized also in her what exists in few: an intense 
 love of all that was holy, all that was pure. It was an 
 untrained nature, but it was a nature such as God had 
 created it, perfectly unspoilt. Through all the varying 
 changes of her young life she had remained " unspotted 
 from the world ". She knew no evil and she thought 
 no evil; all things to her were good. 
 
 The Indians to her were the same as the Europeans. 
 Had they not loved her and cared for her, and should 
 not she love and care for them? 
 
 But now, without teaching, without telling, there 
 came to her the intuitive knowledge that she must 
 follow her own people. They had come to fetch her, 
 and she was bound to go with them. 
 
 So, though she wept bitterly at parting with the 
 princess and the baby prince, though she clung to St. 
 Lubin, and leaned against him as she had so often done 
 when she was tired, still she did not demur. Their 
 paths lay apart; she must follow Felix. 
 
 The news of who she was, indeed her whole story, 
 had spread quickly throughout the city of Agra, and
 
 218 The Silver Hand 
 
 it came to pass that on the day of her departure a 
 great concourse of people hung about the streets wait- 
 ing to bid her farewell. Had not her coming amongst 
 them been blest? A son had been born to Scindia; she 
 had found the Silver Hand ; the prophecy was fulfilled ; 
 St. Lubin was in their midst to lead them to victory! 
 
 She rode out of Agra on her dear horse, Mirza, and 
 Scindia and St. Lubin rode on either side of her. They 
 accompanied her a whole day's journey, then they bade 
 her farewell. 
 
 Ursula bore herself bravely. If tears filled her eyes, 
 she brushed them away and smiled her au revoir. 
 
 Dr. Fergusson returned to Madras, but not Sandy 
 Maclvor. He would not leave St. Lubin. His motto 
 was: "Faithful unto death!"
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 In the Jungle 
 
 1 he travellers had hoped to slip quietly through the 
 country, but they soon became aware that even during 
 the comparatively short time of their residence in Agra 
 the country had become far more turbulent. A spirit 
 of rebellion had manifested itself among the native 
 chiefs, and the whole country was in a state of rest- 
 lessness and disorder. The principal object of detes- 
 tation was Shah Allum, the great Mogul, and Nabob 
 of Oudh, who was now virtually a prisoner in the 
 hands of these petty chiefs. 
 
 Scindia had known something of this before his 
 friends left Agra, and he had done his best for their 
 protection by giving them a guard of twenty men to 
 conduct them on their way. The doctor, Frank, 
 Felix, Ursula, Krishna, and their personal attendants, 
 brought their number up to thirty. They had tents 
 and all the necessary appliances for camping out. 
 Every precaution had been taken to avoid friction and 
 to ensure their safety; Felix was provided with papers 
 signed by both Scindia and St. Lubin of the "Silver 
 Hand ", for by that name he was now well known. 
 He had also taken the precaution, before leaving 
 Madras, to procure letters of commendation to all the 
 petty rajahs and chiefs through whose dominions 
 they might have to pass. Nevertheless they were 
 aware, especially the doctor, that if a wild band of 
 Mahrattas or of any other hostile tribe were to attack 
 
 219
 
 22o The Silver Hand 
 
 them, these papers would be of little or no use. Besides 
 there were the dacoits to be reckoned with, and pos- 
 sibly a still more dangerous enemy, namely, a people 
 known throughout India as forest and hill tribes, a 
 wandering people, not mingling with others, and speak- 
 ing a dialect of their own. They were something like 
 the European gipsies. 
 
 They were divided into two tribes, Korahams and 
 Korackas. There was very little difference between 
 them, but the Korama considered himself more re- 
 spectable than his brother Koracho. 
 
 They lived in camps consisting of a score or more 
 little huts made of strips of bamboo, with matting 
 stretched over a framework of poles. The whole 
 front was open, and constituted the doorway, out- 
 side which the women had their cooking place. 
 
 Pigs, dogs, and fowls wandered about, making a 
 constant din. 
 
 "Above it all the piercing tones of women's voices 
 rise from time to time, as a fierce battle of words is 
 waged. Quarrels wage all day." 
 
 These gipsies were highway robbers, devil wor- 
 shippers, polygamists, and hardened drunkards. 
 
 Their business was to kill travellers, as did the 
 Thugs. They would get them into conversation, 
 find out if they had any valuables, and, if they had, 
 they would give signs to each other, something 
 would be spoken of, something dropped. Then sud- 
 denly the folds of a woman's cloth would cover the 
 traveller's head, and he would either be strangled or 
 hacked to death by the men's hooked knives. 
 
 This was one of the great dangers of the jungle, 
 to which the doctor knew the party would be especially 
 exposed. For the women's sake they travelled slowly,
 
 In the Jungle 221 
 
 camping" out at night when they could not reach a 
 village or group of houses before sunset. 
 
 As she thus travelled a faint remembrance of her 
 journeying with Scindia came back to Ursula, but 
 with him she had experienced no sense of danger. 
 She had seen camp fires and wild men arid women, 
 but they had not come near to them. At sight of 
 Scindia they had prostrated themselves, and he had 
 passed on. 
 
 But now fear once more took possession of her; 
 from the moment she parted from Andre her soul 
 was troubled. She even doubted Krishna. Frank 
 and Felix were as strangers to her; the doctor's was 
 the only face which was really familiar to her, and 
 him she trusted. 
 
 "Stay by me," she said one night when they had 
 had a more than usually rough journey, and had 
 pitched their tents not far from a gipsy encamp- 
 ment. 
 
 They were in the very heart of the jungle. All 
 day they had at different times heard the growlings 
 of angry beasts, tigers and bears. Once a whole 
 herd of elephants had come tearing and tramping 
 within a short distance of them, tossing their trunks 
 in the air in angry defiance. Every time they had 
 rested to take food, troops of monkeys had gathered 
 round them, jabbering and making faces. 
 
 Ursula hid her face in her hands and wept. 
 
 If only her friend Andrd had been with her! It 
 seemed to her she would not have been afraid then. 
 In vain Krishna tried to make her go into the tent 
 prepared for them ; she shrank away from her. It 
 was then that the doctor spoke to her; he was 
 growing very fond of her for her own sake. The
 
 222 The Silver Hand 
 
 likeness which had at first attracted him was being 
 merged in her own individual charm, and he spoke 
 softly to her. "You must not be afraid," he said; 
 "nothing shall harm you, little one." 
 
 For answer she stretched out her hand and laid 
 hold on him, saying: 
 
 "Stay with me." 
 
 "Do not fear; I will not leave you," he answered; 
 and when Krishna came again, entreating her to take 
 shelter in the tent, he told her to "fetch coverings 
 and pillows; the Missy Sahibah will lie out beneath 
 the stars; it is better so. I will watch over her," he 
 said; and she was fain to obey, though reluctantly. 
 
 The doctor made Ursula lie down on cushions, and 
 covered her up, and talked cheerfully to her all the 
 while. Frank and Felix came also and lay at her 
 feet; and so, surrounded by loving hearts, she closed 
 her eyes and passed into the land of dreams. 
 
 Krishna crept away, anger and rage in her heart. 
 She had striven to keep her away from her own people 
 in the hope of seeing her an Indian princess, but now 
 it was useless. 
 
 She stole to the back of the tent, and out of the 
 shadow of the trees a man stepped forth, and they 
 spoke together. The man was angry, and threatened 
 her, and she gave him gold; but all the time she looked 
 behind her, evidently in great fear. At last she said 
 something which seemed to satisfy the man, for he 
 disappeared, and Krishna fled into the tent. So the 
 evil thought she had conceived was killed in the bud. 
 
 It was still early, but their Indian guides were 
 already preparing for the day's journeying, when 
 they were startled by seeing a company of sepoys, 
 headed by British officers, riding towards them.
 
 In the Jungle 223 
 
 Felix instantly rose and went to meet them. The 
 first officer saluted. "Are you Mr. Felix Carmi- 
 chael?" he asked. "I am," answered Felix. 
 
 The officer held out his hand. "Mr. Warren 
 Hastings, the Governor, heard that you were in the 
 neighbourhood, and has sent us to ask you to come 
 to him. He has been called upon to settle the dis- 
 putes between Shah Allum and the tribesmen, and is 
 now on his way to Lucknow. He thinks that you 
 may help him by your knowledge of the people, and 
 begs you will not delay; we have had considerable 
 difficulty in finding you." Whilst talking, he and 
 the two other officers had dismounted. " I am Major 
 Frith," he said, "and these gentlemen are Lieutenants 
 Carol and Keith." 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," said Felix, shaking hands with 
 them, "before we talk business, suppose you refresh 
 yourselves; you must have had a long ride." 
 
 "We left the Governor's camp last night," said 
 the major; "he is impatient to see you, and would 
 brook no delay. Is it true that you have found your 
 sister?" 
 
 " Quite true," answered Felix; "and here is Dr. Fer- 
 gusson, of the Scottish Highlanders. He and one 
 other man alone escaped from Bednore." 
 
 "That was a terrible affair, a great mistake," said 
 the major. " If you will allow me, I will give 
 orders to my sepoys to pile arms and rest them- 
 selves." 
 
 During the late troubles in Madras both Felix and 
 Frank had distinguished themselves by the active 
 parts they had taken in organizing assistance. Felix 
 was known to have suffered great pecuniary losses, 
 to say nothing of his domestic misfortunes; the brave
 
 224 The Silver Hand 
 
 face he put upon thing's won for him the sympathy 
 of every class. 
 
 The two young men themselves hardly realized how 
 popular they had become. Pecuniarily Felix gave 
 largely of his substance, without taking into account 
 his own losses. Sometimes John Bennett was almost 
 roused to anger at what he called his lavish generosity. 
 "What can it signify," Felix would say, "as long as 
 we keep afloat? there will be always more than I shall 
 require." It was for all these reasons combined that 
 Warren Hastings had decided to send for him. He 
 knew that he had ventured into the lion's den, namely, 
 Scindia's capital of Agra, and he hoped that the ex- 
 perience the young man had gained there would serve 
 them now in good stead. 
 
 After officers and men had rested themselves, and 
 had partaken of what hospitality Felix was able to offer 
 them, there was a grand consultation, and Dr. Fer- 
 gusson proposed they should start for the Governor's 
 camp at sunset. Supposing they rested a couple of 
 hours after midnight, he reckoned they would still 
 reach their destination in the morning, before the 
 heat had set in. There was naturally considerable 
 curiosity with regard to Ursula, but she remained in 
 her tent till it was time to start, and then, mounted on 
 Scindia's horse, Mirza, she rode between Felix and the 
 doctor. Naturally she attracted not a little attention ; 
 her story was so well known, and her beauty caused 
 every man's eye to turn upon her. She was received 
 with respect and honour by the Governor, Warren 
 Hastings, who insisted upon giving up his tent to her. 
 He thanked Felix for turning out of his way to consult 
 with him upon a subject which, after all, did not con- 
 cern him.
 
 In the Jungle 225 
 
 "Indeed you are wrong there, sir; the settlement 
 of the country concerns us Anglo- Indians deeply," 
 answered Felix. He then told him of his visit to Agra, 
 and of the noble character and high courage of the chief 
 Scindia. He also told him of the two Frenchmen, who 
 were virtually in command of the Mahratta army. " I 
 am of opinion that you should take them into your 
 counsel. Scindia's great ambition is to unite all these 
 petty Mahratta tribes into one body under his own 
 governance. Let England help him to this by herself 
 remaining neutral, in return for which Scindia shall 
 agree to leave the English unmolested." 
 
 Many other points were discussed between them, and 
 the Governor was quick to perceive and appreciate 
 Felix's recognition of the many difficulties with which 
 he had to contend. Felix had often heard his father 
 discuss the jealousy and ill-treatment to which Clive 
 had been subjected, so that his sympathies were wholly 
 with the Governor. 
 
 It was therefore decided to send a messenger to 
 Scindia, asking him to meet the Governor at Lucknow. 
 This was done, and proved a most satisfactory con- 
 clusion. Scindia came to Lucknow, and a treaty 
 was signed, by which he agreed to assist and pro- 
 tect the Nabob and the East Indian Company against 
 the hordes of petty chiefs which infested the country, 
 from this time forth Scindia's power increased enor- 
 mously. 
 
 He required neither encouragement nor assistance 
 from the British ; it was quite sufficient for him that 
 they should remain neutral. This they did, leaving 
 to him the power and glory of holding in check all 
 the petty native rajahs. 
 
 At the head of the Mahratta forces, leading them 
 
 (B946) 15
 
 226 The Silver Hand 
 
 to battle, training them in times of peace, were the 
 two cousins, Raymond de Senlis and St. Lubin of the 
 Silver Hand ; the Mahrattas never doubted that it was 
 the presence of that Silver Hand which gave victory to 
 their arms. 
 
 A few weeks later the travellers arrived at Madras, 
 and Ursula stood once more a stranger in her father's 
 house. Her aunt and Susan received her with every 
 token of affection. Her " poor lost lamb " Aunt Louisa 
 called her.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Untrained 
 
 The whole of Madras vied one with another in wel- 
 coming Ursula home. As a little motherless child, her 
 father's darling-, she had been immensely popular, a 
 plaything petted beyond measure. Her brightness, 
 her beauty, had charmed everyone, and now it was no 
 longer the child Ursula, full of play and laughter, who 
 had returned, but a slim maiden, unusually tall for her 
 age, with a far-away expression in her eyes, as if they 
 had looked on strange things and could not forget. 
 She was very gentle, suffered her aunt to caress her, 
 and received Susan's advances quietly, but without any 
 show of pleasure. They attributed this partially to her 
 imperfect understanding of English. 
 
 It was coming back gradually to her, even as she 
 was remembering people and places. She was very 
 happy when alone with Frank and Felix, but she liked 
 best of all being with the doctor. She watched for his 
 coming, she almost wept when he left her. Either 
 Frank or the doctor fetched her every morning, and 
 took her for long drives or rides into the country. But 
 still the happy look did not come back to her face; it 
 was evident she was fretting. 
 
 Mrs. Burgess, or Aunt Louisa as she was usually 
 called, could not manage her at all. She could not 
 understand this nature, as gentle as a dove's but with 
 a persistent determination; she had a will of her own 
 
 227
 
 228 The Silver Hand 
 
 under that quiet exterior. Aunt Louisa realized this first 
 when, about a fortnight after her return, she went into 
 her room with her Indian maid, carrying a little black 
 frock, and, holding it out to Ursula, said, not unkindly: 
 
 " You will wear this, my child; it is right and proper 
 you should do so." 
 
 Now Ursula had not been told of her father's death, 
 and she had not asked. She recognized things and 
 persons when she saw them, but she could not gather 
 up the threads of the past. What she did not see she 
 did not understand. So she pushed the frock away, 
 saying quickly : 
 
 "No, I will not." 
 
 Now, that evening Mrs. Burgess knew some of the 
 fashionable ladies of Madras were coming to congratu- 
 late Felix and to see Ursula, and she had taken great 
 pains to have this frock made after the orthodox fashion 
 for little girls. She had succeeded in getting Ursula 
 to leave off the sari— or, rather, Felix and Dr. Fergus- 
 son had talked to her. Felix had himself bought her 
 a soft, white silk, which had pleased her, and she was 
 wearing it when her aunt brought in the black frock. 
 But nothing could move her. She would not let them 
 touch her. For the first time she grew angry, stamped 
 her feet, and cried out : 
 
 "Take it away, the ugly thing!" 
 
 Frank was passing, heard her, and came in. 
 
 "What is the matter, mother?" he asked sternly. 
 "What are you doing to the child?" 
 
 "Only trying to make her like other children. She 
 must be civilized. You all spoil her so that if I do not 
 take her in hand she will be soon unbearable. She must 
 wear mourning for her father; it is only decent." 
 
 "Hush, mother!" said Frank. "Our Ursula ' un-
 
 Untrained 229 
 
 bearable'! You cannot mean that. Little bear (Ursa)," 
 he continued, using the old familiar nickname, "why 
 are you so naughty?" And he put his arm round her. 
 
 " I am not naughty," she answered, "but I will not 
 wear that — " she hesitated, then added quickly, " thing. 
 She," pointing to her aunt, " is in black always. Susan 
 is in black. I will not; it is ugly. For my father?" 
 she said. "Where is my father?" She passed her 
 hand across her brow, while a strange, puzzled look, 
 almost as if she were in pain, came over her face. She 
 was striving to remember, and it hurt her. 
 
 At that moment Dr. Fergusson came in, and, seeing 
 that something unusual was going on, of which Ursula 
 was evidently the centre, he asked, looking at Frank : 
 
 " Has anything happened?" 
 
 In an instant Ursula was beside him, and, holding up 
 her hands, she said: 
 
 " My father? for my father? Who is he? Where is 
 he? I cannot understand!" 
 
 " Don't try," said the doctor sharply. 
 
 "But I ought to; I must! My father!" She repeated 
 the words slowly. 
 
 " Ursula, you know when I tell you not to think, you 
 must not. You have been ill. I am making you well, 
 or rather the good God through me; but if you trouble, 
 or try to think unless I tell you, you will never get 
 well. Now go and tell Krishna to put your riding dress 
 on. I will order Mirza to be saddled, and we will ride 
 together." 
 
 Obediently she left the room. The doctor turned to 
 Frank, and asked : 
 
 " What have you done to her?" 
 
 "I have done nothing," answered Frank, "but my 
 mother, thinking she ought to wear mourning for her
 
 230 The Silver Hand 
 
 father, bought her that frock, and I suppose they quar- 
 relled over it. Ursula hates it." 
 
 "Naturally!" answered the doctor. "Madam," he 
 continued, turning - to Mrs. Burgess, " I must ask you 
 not to interfere with my patient. She is accustomed to 
 wear white. Let her continue to do so, and do not 
 mention her father to her. I fear you have already done 
 her much mischief." And with that he went out. 
 
 " Now I will take you to see something," he said as 
 he lifted Ursula on to her horse. 
 
 He noticed that the sweet face was unusually sad ; so, 
 as they rode, he told her about Phyllis, and all she had 
 done for the Indian children during the time of famine 
 and pestilence. 
 
 " Have I seen her?" asked Ursula. 
 
 "Yes, she has been to the house two or three times; 
 that tall, fair girl with the bright hair," said the doctor. 
 
 "Oh, I remember!" she answered; "she has a kind 
 face and a gentle voice. I think I could love her." 
 
 " Well, we will go and see her," said the doctor. 
 
 So after a good ride in the surrounding country, long 
 enough to quiet the child's nerves, he stopped before 
 the new orphanage. Felix had improved it greatly, 
 adding a small annexe on to the original building for 
 kitchen and other purposes; also the ventilation had 
 been improved, and partitions made. A porch had been 
 added, which was already covered with verdure. 
 
 As Phyllis heard the horses' tramp she came out and 
 stood in the shade waiting for them, a tall, slim woman 
 with a pale, thoughtful face, and eyes which seemed to 
 be searching in other faces for what they might need. 
 As Ursula's horse drew up before the porch she stepped 
 out and herself lifted the child down and kissed her. 
 
 " It is good of you to come and see me," she said.
 
 Untrained 231 
 
 " I brought her, Miss Phyllis, because she wants 
 comforting-," the doctor called out, as he too dis- 
 mounted and the syce led away the horses. 
 
 "Wants comforting?" repeated Phyllis. "Come 
 and see my babies then." And she put her arms round 
 Ursula and led her into the long, cool room. The 
 wide-open windows were shaded by blinds of scented 
 matting, through which the breeze came, for it was 
 evening time. There were only a few of the elder girls 
 about, tidying up the room, but the children's voices 
 were heard in the compound, playing their last game 
 before bedtime. 
 
 Ursula stood for a moment astonished ; then she said 
 seriously, holding fast by Phyllis's hand : 
 
 "Are they all yours?" 
 
 Phyllis laughed. 
 
 "Yes, they are all mine," she answered, and, picking 
 up a little black urchin rolling on a mat at her feet, she 
 tossed it in the air. 
 
 "They are not white children, and yet you love 
 them?" continued Ursula. 
 
 "Oh yes, I love them!" answered Phyllis. " 1 never 
 think whether they are English or Indian. They are 
 God's children, outcasts from the world." 
 
 "As I was, only I was white; and yet they took me 
 in and loved me," said Ursula, adding: "I will ask 
 Felix to let me come and live with you," And before 
 they knew what she was doing she ran up to one of 
 the Indian girls about her own age, threw her arms 
 round her, and kissed her, saying in pure Hindustani: 
 
 "Take me out there; let me play with you," and she 
 pointed to the compound. 
 
 The girl nodded, took her hand, and ran out with her. 
 
 In a second she was in the midst of the children,
 
 232 The Silver Hand 
 
 playing - as the doctor had never thought she could 
 play, singing snatches of little native songs, and clap- 
 ping her hands in sheer joy. And the children gathered 
 round her and kissed her hands ; some even knelt to 
 her. They could not have told why. It was pure 
 gracious nature. 
 
 Tears filled Phyllis's eyes, and looking at the doctor 
 she saw him brush his hands across his eyes. 
 
 " I told you she wanted comforting," he said. " Chil- 
 dren die for lack of mothering. She is a grown child; 
 she has a big soul; she cannot live without love. She 
 is starved up there at the big house between those two 
 women. She will die if we do not rescue her. Look at 
 her!" 
 
 The prayer bell was ringing from the little turret, 
 silence had fallen upon the children as they ranged 
 themselves by twos and threes and marched into the 
 hall. Last of all came Ursula, between two tiny chil- 
 dren, holding each by the hand. 
 
 A short prayer, a simple little hymn translated into 
 Hindustani, that was the evening service. 
 
 As it died out, a voice, sweet and clear as a silver 
 bell, came floating on the air. The language was 
 strange to their ears, for it was the old Latin version 
 of the Nunc Dimittis: "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy 
 servant depart in peace", &c, which Phyllis and the 
 doctor recognized. They held their breath, listening in 
 wonder, until the last word dropped, as it were, from 
 heaven to earth, and there was silence. Then there 
 arose a murmur of many voices, and the dark children 
 gathered round their white sister, clung to her, knelt 
 to her. 
 
 " Stay with us!" they cried. 
 
 " She will come back to us," said Phyllis, putting her
 
 Untrained 233 
 
 arms round the slim, white figure. " Let her be now, 
 and go to bed, all of you, thanking God for your new 
 friend. Good night, children; good night!" 
 
 And they obeyed her, the women and elder girls 
 taking the little ones. So they dispersed, Ursula, 
 watching them and waving her hands, wished them 
 good night.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A Caged Bird 
 
 " She is as untrained as a savage, and everyone makes 
 such a fuss over her ! I have no authority. What shall 
 I do with her? I am at my wits' end. If we were in 
 England I should send her to school," said Mrs. Burgess 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 "Oh, let her alone, mother! you will never make 
 anything of her," answered Susan. " Felix and Frank 
 are both silly over her, and as for the doctor, I won't 
 say what I think! It is a great pity she was ever found; 
 she was much better with her Hindus." 
 
 " And I think it a great pity we ever came out here," 
 answered her mother. " I have lost Bob, and I do not 
 believe you are making any way with Felix. Yet you 
 ought to get married." 
 
 " How can I when you have refused to go into society, 
 and therefore see so few people? I have not been to 
 a ball yet ! After all, I do not care much. I mean to 
 marry Cousin Felix, and not a poor officer." 
 
 "Well, you had better look out, for that girl, Phyllis 
 Rayner, is a serious rival." 
 
 " Oh no ! " answered Susan ; " I have settled that long 
 ago. She was overbold, so I let her know that men 
 like Felix did not marry their clerk's daughter. Be- 
 sides, she is really too plain." 
 
 This conversation had been carried on in the draw- 
 ing-room, a luxuriously furnished apartment opening 
 
 234
 
 A Caged Bird 235 
 
 out on to the veranda. Ursula was lying in a hammock 
 swung from the roof, but they did not know she was 
 there. She heard only the first part of the conversation 
 concerning herself, then noiselessly she flung herself to 
 the ground, and ran and threw herself on the grass 
 under the shadow of a great overspreading tree. She 
 lay, face downwards, upon her crossed arms. 
 
 Thus Phyllis found her. She did not often come to 
 the house now. Susan had made herself intensely un- 
 pleasant, so she avoided her. Both Frank and Felix 
 suspected the reason why she kept away, but they 
 did not care to remark upon it, fearing to raise a 
 storm. 
 
 Men are cowards where women's quarrels are con- 
 cerned. 
 
 So they just contented themselves by visiting the 
 bungalow more frequently; indeed they felt more at 
 home there than in the big house under present cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 The doctor, however, thought of Ursula more than 
 of anyone else, and spoke to Phyllis about her. 
 
 "The child will die if she is not rescued from those 
 two women," he said. 
 
 So Phyllis plucked up her courage and rode over to 
 see her. She dismounted outside the entrance gate, 
 telling the syce to wait for her there, and she went 
 round by the shrubbery. 
 
 She had not gone far when she perceived something 
 white lying in the grass. She went up to it, and, to 
 her surprise, saw it was Ursula. She sat down beside 
 her on the ground and asked: 
 
 " What are you doing here, childie, and why are you 
 crying?" 
 
 " I want to go back home to my dear princess and
 
 236 The Silver Hand 
 
 her Baba. They loved me," answered Ursula with a 
 sob. 
 
 "We love you also," said Phyllis. "Your place is 
 here, Ursula, because you are an English girl. If you 
 knew how Felix and Frank grieved when you were 
 lost ! They are different men since you have come 
 home, and they are sorry because you are not happy." 
 
 "But they," and Ursula pointed to the house, "wish 
 I had never been found. They do not love me." She 
 did not say: "They hate me", because she did not 
 know what hatred meant. 
 
 "But they will learn to love you," said Phyllis. 
 
 Ursula shook her head. She looked up into her face, 
 and nestled up to her, whispering: 
 
 "Take me with you! If I stay here I shall die!" 
 
 "But I cannot. Your home is here," answered 
 Phyllis. 
 
 "Then I shall die!" repeated Ursula, and she lay 
 down again. 
 
 "Who talks of dying? Surely not my little sweet- 
 heart?" And Felix came forward. At one glance he 
 saw what was wrong, and guessed the cause. 
 
 He and Frank had come to the conclusion that it was 
 hopeless to expect Mrs. Burgess and Susan to under- 
 stand a nature like Ursula's. They had lived in a 
 groove — a most proper groove, — beyond which they 
 had no idea of extending their experience; but it did 
 not reach Ursula's needs, and they were sorely puzzled. 
 They saw the friction increasing day by day, and they 
 could not check it. 
 
 Matters were made worse by the doctor's assurance 
 that, if it continued, Ursula would fall ill again. Krishna 
 scowled at them both, and one day she even ventured 
 to stop Felix and say to him: "Did I not tell you,
 
 A Caged Bird 237 
 
 Sahib, she could not live where the north wind blows?" 
 And then she passed on. 
 
 Now he picked Ursula up, and sat down with her in 
 his arms on the ground beside Phyllis. 
 
 "My little girlie, what do you want? Why cannot 
 you be happy?" 
 
 She put up her hand and stroked his face. 
 
 "I do not know," she answered. "I am afraid. 
 Let me go with Phyllis. She will love me." 
 
 " But you must live with me, Ursula, my little sister. 
 My home must be your home." 
 
 "Not with Aunt Louisa and Susan. I will not live 
 with them. Krishna says she will carry me back to 
 Agra, and I would gladly go, but still I love you, 
 Felix, my brother. I love you, Felix, and Phyllis, and 
 Frank." And she began weeping again. 
 
 "Will you have her, Phyllis?" asked Felix. "I see 
 nothing else for it, at least for a time." 
 
 "Indeed I will; at once, if you like," answered 
 Phyllis, for she was frightened at the deathlike white- 
 ness of the child's face. 
 
 "Very well. It is just like you, Phyllis. You are 
 always there when one needs you. Listen, Ursula. 
 You will stay with Phyllis, and I will go to the stables 
 and order the dogcart; then I will drive you to the 
 bungalow. I saw your horse at the gate, Phyllis, so 
 I knew you were here. I will also warn Krishna to 
 follow with her clothes. Now, keep quiet till I return." 
 
 He put Ursula down beside Phyllis and left them. 
 
 "I will do everything you tell me," said Ursula; 
 " I am not afraid of you, because you will love me!" 
 
 "Yes, I will love you," answered Phyllis, "and 
 I will teach you, and you will become what you really 
 are — an English girl."
 
 238 The Silver Hand 
 
 "Am I very different?" she asked. 
 
 Phyllis smiled, kissed her, and said: " I never knew 
 anyone at all like you, Ursula dear; you are just your 
 own sweet self." 
 
 At that moment Felix drove up in the dogcart. 
 Krishna was with him, radiant. "It is well; all will 
 be well now, my bird," she whispered, as Ursula 
 was lifted into the cart. 
 
 "Quick!" said Felix. " I want to get away quietly; 
 I can explain when I come back." He led the horse 
 to the gate, helped Phyllis to mount, and drove away, 
 as pleased and excited as if he had been a boy getting 
 away from school. 
 
 The inhabitants of the bungalow were not a little 
 surprised at this unexpected invasion, though for 
 some time past they had felt the clouds gathering — 
 John Bennett especially. 
 
 " It can never last," he said to Mrs. Rayner. " If 
 Ursula were like other children it would not so much 
 matter; but she is not, nor ever will be; so there 
 will be a regular breakup one day." But he had 
 not expected it would be so soon. 
 
 Frank undertook to make the necessary explanations 
 to his mother. 
 
 "You do not understand Ursula, mother. She is 
 not like other girls; she has gone through so much. 
 She is a wild bird suddenly caged. When she is tamed, 
 no doubt you will understand each other better; in the 
 meantime she has taken a fancy to Phyllis, and Felix 
 chooses to humour her. We can have nothing to say 
 against his doing as he thinks right. After all he is 
 her legal guardian. 
 
 "The young lady has played her game well," said 
 Susan. "We shall be hearing of a wedding soon."
 
 A Caged Bird 239 
 
 " Not yours, I am afraid, my poor Frank," said 
 his mother. " Miss Rayner will soar higher. You are 
 a poor man ; Felix is rich. Your chances are small, 
 I am happy to say. I should hardly be content for 
 my son to marry his cousin's clerk's daughter." 
 
 "Well, mother, as you say, I do not think I shall 
 have the chance," answered Frank. " In the meantime 
 I should feel obliged if you would be civil to Miss 
 Rayner. She is a girl I respect above all others. She 
 has done splendid work, we have been great friends, 
 and I hope we shall continue on the same footing 
 always. We will talk no more on the subject; what is 
 to be will be." And he went his way. 
 
 But henceforth the position was a strained one. 
 Mrs. Burgess was aggrieved, and she openly complained 
 to her friends. " I came to India at my brother's re- 
 quest, to keep his house and superintend the education 
 of his daughter, and she is taken away from me and 
 given to a stranger. She is a spoilt child, with shock- 
 ing Indian habits, quite untrained, and with a dreadful 
 temper, but both Felix and my own son think her 
 perfect, and humour her every whim. They will not 
 allow her to be contradicted. She has taken a fancy 
 to Miss Rayner, so she has gone to stay with her 
 for a time. Of course it cannot last." Such was 
 the plaint she made to everyone who enquired after 
 Ursula. She herself posed as a martyr. But Susan 
 went further. To her girl friends she more than in- 
 sinuated that Phyllis was playing her part well. 
 
 "Phyllis means to marry Cousin Felix," she said; 
 "and, as mother did not like her being always about 
 the house, she coaxed Ursula to live with her. Naturally 
 both Felix and Frank are continually at the bungalow. 
 It is very dull for us." Thus she also claimed her
 
 240 x The Silver Hand 
 
 share of pity, and the general opinion was that Mrs. 
 Burgess ought to have had the management of Ursula, 
 and that the two young men were simply infatuated. 
 Still, it was agreed Ursula could get only good from 
 Phyllis. 
 
 It was strange, and an unusual thing, that every- 
 one thought well of Phyllis. She had won all hearts, 
 and every voice was raised in her favour. She worked 
 so hard; she was so modest! Her father had been 
 unfortunate, and she had turned to and done the best 
 she could; and though many of the girls would have 
 welcomed Felix or Frank as suitors, they were agreed 
 that Phyllis had the first claim. She had worked with 
 and for them in the time of trouble, and they were 
 all three such good friends! Which of the two would 
 she have? That was the question. 
 
 A year slipped by, and Ursula grew and prospered. 
 She was quite happy now; everyone took such care of 
 her and loved her. 
 
 The doctor taught her, Frank taught her, and for 
 what they could not undertake she had masters. She 
 was so fragile, she was never allowed to tire herself. 
 To all intents and purposes she was like other girls, 
 yet there was a difference, and everyone felt so. There 
 was a spirituality about her, an undefinable something, 
 which lent a wonderful charm to a very marked per- 
 sonality. Every day she accompanied Phyllis to the 
 Orphanage, and taught and played with the little ones, 
 and they loved her. Her beauty was the beauty of 
 a rose leaf! At long intervals a messenger would 
 come from Andr£ St. Lubin, bringing a gift for her; 
 a jewel of great value, perfect of its kind. And she 
 laid it by, unless it were a pearl; that she added to 
 the rope of pearls which had been her father's gift
 
 A Caged Bird 241 
 
 to her as a child, and which she always wore. She 
 had never been distinctly told of his death, but she 
 divined it. A word dropped now and again, his por- 
 trait, all this enlightened her, but she never spoke 
 of him. Only, if his name was mentioned, she would 
 listen eagerly; and to fatherless children she was even 
 more tender than to others. 
 
 Like Phyllis she learnt what love meant in the high- 
 ways and hedges, and among the sick and the forsaken. 
 
 News came from Bob. He was doing well, and 
 loved his life, his chiefs, and the men under him. 
 His name was frequently to be seen in the dispatches 
 which came from different parts of India, where the 
 British were contending for Empire. 
 
 Scindia kept his word. He grew great and power- 
 ful, until even Tippoo Sahib had to retreat before him, 
 and he held the petty tribes under his control. He 
 gained many great battles ; but it was well known that 
 they were due, in a great measure, to the military 
 erenius of the two Frenchmen who were his Comman- 
 ders-in-Chief, Count Raymond de Senlis and Andre 1 de 
 St. Lubin of the Silver Hand. 
 
 (B946) 16
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Her Hero 
 
 Ursula and Phyllis were busily engaged cutting out 
 and preparing clothes for their large family. They 
 were laughing and making merry over it. Krishna 
 was also busy, tacking and putting the garments to- 
 gether. 
 
 Since they had come to live at the bungalow she 
 had been a different creature, content and happy. 
 She was devoted to Frank Burgess, went to church, 
 and attended his classes; but she was very reticent, 
 and kept her future intentions to herself, though Ursula 
 said more than once: 
 
 "She'll be asking you to baptise her one day, 
 Frank." 
 
 "I hope so," answered Frank, and there the subject 
 dropped. 
 
 It was still quite early in the day. Everything worth 
 doing is done in the morning in India; but never- 
 theless Ursula exclaimed, when Felix stood in the 
 open French window, which looked out on to the 
 veranda : 
 
 "Well, you are early, and I can't ride this morning, 
 we are so busy," she said. 
 
 Felix laughed. "I don't want you to; I've come 
 to talk," he said. " Good morning, Phyllis ! " 
 
 " Good morning!" she answered; " what news?" 
 
 " I wish you'd try and guess!" he answered, 
 
 242;
 
 Her Hero 243 
 
 " I never guessed anything in my life," answered 
 Phyllis; "and at this moment, what with gores, and 
 hems, and right and wrong sides, it would be foolish 
 even to try." 
 
 "It's worth trying, though," he said with a twinkle 
 in his eye. 
 
 Phyllis looked up at him. Something in his voice 
 struck her, but what struck her still more was that he 
 was looking so handsome. He had improved greatly 
 in appearance during the last year or two. Naturally 
 fair, the Indian sun had bronzed his face, and, since 
 Ursula had been found, the old happy look had come 
 back ; and so many interests had cropped up round 
 and about him that the terrible days seemed far away. 
 Frank had proved right: in caring for others he had 
 found happiness himself. 
 
 "You won't try, then?" he asked. 
 
 "No," answered Phyllis, and she turned away. 
 
 Ursula had been looking steadily at her brother with 
 those wonderful eyes of hers, which seemed to read the 
 thoughts of others. 
 
 " Shall I try, Felix?" she asked, dropping her scissors. 
 And, going up to him, she put her arm round his neck 
 and sat down on his knee. 
 
 "You! you little witch! I believe you have guessed 
 already!" he answered. 
 
 "Aunt Louisa has decided to go back to England," 
 she said quietly. 
 
 "Just so," answered Frank. "Susan has finally 
 accepted young Philip Dunraven. He is to go to 
 England as representative of the firm of Dunraven 
 & Son. He will probably be absent from Madras 
 for two or three years travelling; and so, as my aunt 
 puts it, she is of no further use here, and will sail 
 
 (B946 16 2
 
 244 The Silver Hand 
 
 with them immediately after the wedding. Hurrah! 
 If she only knew what that means to me!" 
 
 "What does it mean?" said Ursula seriously. 
 
 "Great happiness, for which I seem to have been 
 waiting a very long time," he answered, looking at 
 Phyllis. 
 
 "Poor Felix!" said Ursula. "I ran away, but you 
 stayed on. It was very brave of you. I think we 
 shall all be much happier now." 
 
 "Phyllis, put your scissors down, and get into your 
 habit; I want you. We will ride." And peremptorily 
 Felix took the offending scissors out of her hands. 
 "You will be quick," he said; "won't you?" 
 
 " Are you in such a very great hurry?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, I am," he answered. Without any furthei 
 observation she went. Krishna and Ursula also dis- 
 appeared. Nothing was left for Felix to do but to 
 pace up and down the room. This he did. 
 
 As fate would have it, his back was turned to the 
 door when he heard a voice say: "I'm ready, Felix." 
 In a second he was beside her. 
 
 "To be my wife?" he asked. 
 
 "That is rather sudden," she answered, colouring. 
 
 " Oh no, it is not! You have known my desire this 
 long while, Phyllis; only I could not turn my father's 
 sister out. She is going out of her own accord, so I 
 can ask you to walk in. Will you come, Phyllis dear? 
 You know I love you; and you will bring warmth 
 and love into that cold house, and make it home!" 
 
 " I will try to," she answered, tears filling her eyes. 
 
 But Felix did not let them fall. Then he led her 
 out, lifted her on her horse, and they rode away 
 together, happy, so happy! 
 
 It was agreed between them that nothing should be
 
 Her Hero 245 
 
 said of the engagement until the Burg-ess marriage 
 was over and Aunt Louisa and the happy couple 
 had set sail for England. Only Ursula and Frank 
 were told. Frank was of course prepared for it, 
 and Ursula's delight was great that Phyllis would 
 really be her sister. 
 
 It was not easy to hide their joy from others, and 
 doubtless many guessed at it. Of course, father, and 
 mother, and John Bennett were in the secret; so it 
 was virtually confined to the bungalow. 
 
 At the big house they were so engaged in their 
 own concerns that they had not much time or ob- 
 servation to waste upon others. 
 
 Susan's was a very grand marriage when it did 
 come off. Felix spared no expense. "We can do 
 with less because we have the real thing," he said 
 to Phyllis. And indeed, when the time came for their 
 union, it took place early one morning, with only 
 the doctor, John Bennett, and Ursula as witnesses. 
 
 A month previously Mr. Rayner had died almost 
 suddenly. He had been ailing for some time, and 
 the doctor who was attending him told his wife it was 
 a weak heart, which might carry him off at any mo- 
 ment. This proved true. He passed away in his sleep, 
 without suffering, leaving his wife and daughter penni- 
 less. A month later, as we have said, Phyllis and 
 Felix were married ; and Ursula went home with 
 them to Carmichael House. The settling of Mrs. 
 Rayner's affairs was equally expeditious. The bun- 
 galow was virtually John Bennett's, and he had no 
 difficulty in persuading Mrs. Rayner to remain and 
 keep house for him. The doctor was also growing 
 old, and he asked to be taken in ; and no one ever 
 thought of refusing the doctor anything. There re-
 
 246 The Silver Hand 
 
 mained only Frank to settle. His mother had tried 
 to persuade him to return with them to England, 
 but he would not; he decided to remain for the pre- 
 sent in Madras. He and Felix were like brothers; 
 he had plenty of work to do, and was content. So 
 Mrs. Rayner had to extend her hospitality to him. 
 The bachelor establishment was thus complete. She 
 had the comfort of remaining in her own home, and 
 feeling she was a burden to no one. 
 
 Her health had improved wonderfully. The freedom 
 from anxiety had tended to this, and the interest she 
 had taken in Phyllis's work had roused her, so that 
 she was quite fit to undertake the management of 
 her large household. Indeed they had all passed 
 through rough waters together; now the sea was 
 calm, the sunshine of love and happiness shone down 
 upon them. There was still war and rumours of 
 war beyond, but it did not come nigh them. 
 
 In this atmosphere of love and peace Ursula grew, 
 a tall fair maiden, loving and beloved, adored espe- 
 cially by the Indian population. Somehow she seemed 
 to belong to them. 
 
 Did she not speak their language as if it had been 
 her own? Had not Krishna told them how Prince 
 Scindia and his wife had honoured her? The Hindu 
 population looked upon her with reverence. 
 
 The story of the Silver Hand was familiar to them 
 all. Had not she found it in Buddha's lap? Surely, 
 therefore, she was beloved of their gods. In the 
 Orphanage the little children looked up to her. She 
 was with them every day; she taught, she evan- 
 grelized them. Somehow she reached their little souls 
 as no one else could. Frank said it was marvellous 
 what power she had over them. A word, a look, from
 
 Her Hero 247 
 
 her sufficed to reduce the most refractory to submission. 
 To both Felix and Phyllis she was a necessity; they 
 loved her beyond measure. 
 
 As she grew older there was some talk of her 
 going to England to finish her education, but she 
 only laughed. "The doctor and Frank know quite 
 enough for me," she said. And they were all so 
 happy together; what more could they want? 
 
 So they let her be. A little learning, more or less, 
 was not worth taking into account against the pain 
 it would have given them all to part with her. Some- 
 how they all knew that her heart was with Andre 
 St. Lubin. She did not often speak of him, but 
 when she did, a glow of gladness lighted up her 
 face, and there was a new intonation in her voice. 
 She studied French with delight. Every day a pro- 
 fessor came to her and taught her, not only the lan- 
 guage, but the history of the nation. 
 
 For several months every year they went up into 
 the hills, and so life was made possible for her and 
 for them. Children were born to Felix and Phyllis, 
 and that also was a joy. Each child was another 
 link in the chain of love, and so Ursula grew into 
 a fair maiden ; but she retained her child's soul, 
 which was reflected in a face of ideal loveliness. 
 Truly beloved she was by old and young, by the 
 white and the brown, by all who came within her 
 radius. 
 
 Now and again news would come to them of the 
 Mahrattas, and of the success of the Confederacy; 
 they were, as Warren Hastings said, far more diffi- 
 cult to hold in hand than even Tippoo Sahib. Their 
 army grew in strength and discipline, the names of 
 Count Raymond and St. Lubin with the Silver Hand
 
 248 The Silver Hand 
 
 were a terror to all the petty nations of the north 
 and south. Tippoo Sahib himself retreated before 
 it. 
 
 In Europe the French Revolution was horrifying 
 and astonishing - the nations. Royal and noble blood 
 flowed from the guillotine, deluging the land from 
 north to south. The news penetrated to India. 
 Many were the French who came to seek refuge in 
 the east, and awful were the tales they told : there 
 was no king, no God, nothing left in the land; only 
 a faithful few in La Vendue and in Brittany remained 
 steadfast to their God and to their king. 
 
 It happened that one day Felix was in his town 
 house with only Frank to keep him company — for his 
 wife and children and Ursula were in the country 
 house he had built for them, — when he was surprised 
 to see riding into the compound two horsemen, one, 
 a little in advance of the other, wearing the rich uni- 
 form of a Mahratta commander. As soon as this 
 one saw Frank and Felix he threw himself off his 
 horse, and advanced on foot up the steps of the 
 veranda, leaving his horse in the care of his com- 
 panion. Raising his helmet, he said in French: "Do 
 you not know me?" and in the bronzed face, some- 
 what aged from the rough life of warfare he had led, 
 they recognized Andr£ St. Lubin. They rose at once, 
 and went forward, holding out their hands to greet 
 him. 
 
 In a few seconds he was seated with them on the 
 veranda, servants were summoned, and the horses 
 taken round to the stables. Sandy had accompanied 
 St. Lubin, and was made welcome. 
 
 "You are a great man to-day, and a brave soldier," 
 said Felix, as they shook hands. And so Sandy
 
 Her Hero 249 
 
 Maclvor with quiet dignity took the place he had 
 won for himself by faithfulness and bravery. 
 
 Till late into the night they sat talking. 
 
 "I have thrown up my command," said St. Lubin, 
 " but my cousin has remained behind, and my absence 
 for the present has been kept secret. There would 
 have been an insurrection if the army had known that 
 I was leaving." 
 
 "Why have you done so?" asked Felix. 
 
 "Because I have had a call," answered St. Lubin. 
 
 " My place is not here now, but in my own country. 
 I am a French nobleman, the last of my race, and I 
 am going to shed my blood for my God, my king, and 
 my country." 
 
 "Is it not folly," said Felix; "has not blood enough 
 been shed on the guillotine that you must give yours? " 
 
 St. Lubin smiled. 
 
 " I shall try to avoid the guillotine," he said, "but I 
 will join la Charette and la Rochefoucauld." 
 
 "The white cockade?" said Felix. 
 
 "Yes, the white cockade," answered St. Lubin. 
 4 I wish you all success," said Frank; " it is a noble 
 cause you will be fighting for. France needed reform- 
 ing, and has had it with a vengeance. I trust you will 
 win peace and honour." 
 
 " I am afraid we have not nearly seen the end yet," 
 answered St. Lubin. 
 
 "And you, Maclvor, do you accompany Monsieur?" 
 asked Felix. 
 
 "Yes," answered Sandy, "I have fought too long 
 beside my general to leave him now, and it is, as 
 you say, a good cause, for God and the king." 
 
 They remained talking almost till day dawned. They 
 rested for a few hours, and then rode out to the house,
 
 250 The Silver Hand 
 
 some half-dozen miles in the country, where Ursula 
 and Phyllis spent much time with the children. 
 
 "You will not find Ursula much changed. Will 
 he, Frank?" remarked Felix as they rode. 
 
 "No," answered Frank, "I see no change in her 
 at all; she has only grown a woman." 
 
 " If I remember rightly, hers is not a face to change; 
 her soul is so pure, she will always keep the face of 
 a child," said Andre\ 
 
 "That is just what it is," said Frank. 
 
 So Ursula and Andr£ met again, and it was to them, 
 as it must ever be with true friends, as if they had never 
 been parted. They picked up the fallen links and put 
 them together, and the only difference Andre recog- 
 nized in her was the growth of her mind and her 
 power of thought. In that he saw the budding out 
 of womanhood. Her mind was as clear as the waters 
 of a running stream, all clouds had been swept away, 
 she was what he had always dreamt she would be. 
 He was surprised to find how she had followed with 
 interest the terrible events which had taken place in 
 France, and she quite understood and appreciated his 
 chivalrous expedition. 
 
 "Of course you are quite right; you must go and 
 fight for your king and country, even as your ancestors 
 have done for centuries," she said. 
 
 "lam the last of my race," answered Andre\ " If I 
 fall in battle, or on the guillotine, the old chateau, and 
 the forest and villages which claim me as their seigneur, 
 will pass to strangers, or to my cousin Raymond. I 
 have left them to him, but I doubt whether he will ever 
 forsake his adventurous life here to become a simple 
 landowner in France, even if the chateau and the land 
 remain in the family, and are not confiscated."
 
 Her Hero 251 
 
 Two happy days they spent together, and then he 
 went, for his ship was to sail from Madras. Sandy's 
 adoration for Ursula had not waned ; to him she was like 
 a creature of another world. To Phyllis he confided how 
 he had tried to prevent St. Lubin from taking - this step. 
 
 " I have entreated him to throw up his command 
 in Prince Scindia's army, to come here to Madras, 
 and, if she would have him, take our little lady for 
 his wife; for he has never thought of anyone but her. 
 He answered me: 'When I have done my duty to 
 my God and to my king, then I will think of that. 
 So far in my life I have fought unreasoning battles. 
 I have lived, so to speak, under false pretences with 
 my silver hand. Now I will fight in a cause worthy 
 of a Christian knight, and when it is over I will 
 claim my reward." 
 
 When she heard this, Phyllis wept. She would have 
 so gladly seen Ursula a happy wife as she was ; but the 
 thought never seemed to come to the girl herself. 
 
 St. Lubin was her hero, her knight, her lover he had 
 always been in perfect innocence. So she let him go, 
 as he said, at the call of duty. 
 
 Both he and Sandy, before leaving, had a long con- 
 sultation with Felix, and deposited in his hands large 
 sums of money and jewels of immense value; both of 
 them also made their wills. Felix did not know the 
 contents of either; he simply held them in trust, to 
 be opened by him in case of death. 
 
 As the ship bore them out of the harbour, a group 
 of friends stood watching them, waving their farewell; 
 but Andre's eyes saw only a girl's tall figure in a white 
 gown, her hands folded across her bosom, hiding, he 
 alone knew what — a silver cross of marvellous work- 
 manship, — his last gift to her.
 
 252 The Silver Hand 
 
 During" the next few years, letters came at long- inter- 
 vals from France, telling of the civil war which was 
 rending that unhappy country — the eternal battle of 
 right against wrong. 
 
 It is needless to say that in that distant Indian 
 home news was eagerly waited for, and the letters, 
 when they came, were read with intense interest. 
 
 At last there was a prolonged silence. Except what 
 they gathered from the public papers, and in those days 
 they were few and far between, they knew nothing of 
 what was going on in the Western world. Personal 
 news, or rather individual news, they had none. 
 
 Ursula grew very restless. A far-away look came 
 into her eyes. Had her friend been killed, and so 
 passed out of human ken? If so, surely Sandy would 
 have written. Had he too laid down his life in his 
 master's cause? She remembered the words : "Greater 
 love hath no man than that he should lay down his 
 life for his friend ". So she waited. 
 
 One day a casket was delivered into her hands. 
 It had been packed with great care, and been brought 
 by a French vessel which had touched at Madras. 
 With Phyllis standing beside her, she opened it. 
 And there, lying on a crimson velvet cushion, was — 
 The Silver Hand. 
 
 And Ursula bowed her head over it, and wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 Who soar aloft and sink not? He alone 
 Who has laid hold upon that golden chain 
 Of love, fast linked to God's eternal throne — 
 The golden chain from heaven to earth let down 
 That we might rise by it, nor fear to sink again.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 II 
 
 AA OOO 371 032