CHAPTER IX

As Atmâ drew near to the confines of Kashmir he trod a secluded vale, and followed the windings of a broad stream whose banks were thickly wooded. As he pursued his way through a thicket he heard voices in gay converse, and stayed his steps until, peering through the heavy foliage, he descried below the overhanging river-bank two dark-eyed girls. They were seated on a broad stone, and one laved her feet in the water and bent over the swift current; but the head of the other, wreathed in scarlet blossoms, was uplifted, and in the bright face half turned towards him he recognized an attendant of Moti. She listened as if suspecting his approach, but soon apparently satisfied, she resumed her light chatter with her companion. Atmâ heard his own name, and gathered that they sought him. He made himself known, and the elder, who was Nama, the Maharanee's trusted servant, related how her mistress greatly desiring a sprig of White Ak, a tree of great virtue in [Pg 59]incantations, had commissioned her to obtain it in the forest near by. She had also been charged, she said, to meet Atmâ Singh, and bring her illustrious mistress tidings of his welfare.

Although, as a true Sikh, Atmâ worshipped an Idea, and held in scorn all material semblance of the supernatural, he knew that magic was largely practised by professed adherents of the Khalsa, and so heard her errand without surprise, though guessing that its timely performance had in view some other purpose concerning himself. This became certain when Nana made known to him that she was not then to return home, but to linger here and in the neighbourhood of the Sacred Well, spoken of by the Ranee, for an indefinite time, while the girl beside her at once returning, would bear to Ferazpore as well as to the house of his uncle tidings of his present safety. As Nama spoke, Atmâ fancied once that the little maid standing by sought to engage his attention by a mute sign, but, ere he could be sure, she desisted and became engrossed in the adjustment of the crown of scarlet flowers with which she had bedecked her head. A dim suspicion of treachery rose in his breast, a vague misgiving. He rapidly recalled to mind the affec[Pg 60]tionate language of his kinsman, the promises of the Ranee, and perhaps stronger than all rose the dear vanity of royal youth, which cannot believe itself scorned. Were not all the high hopes of his life at stake? It is not possible that when youth hazards all, the venture should fail. But the foreboding remained. It was akin to the shudder which tells us that some one steps on the sod beneath which we are to lie. The analysis of these subtle melancholies is hard to read. A breath may summon them and they linger unbidden, and whether they point only to the dim shadows they invoke from the past, or whether their warning be of the future, we cannot say. Even as I write a sadness oppresses me, born of I know not what.

As Atmâ approached the city of Jummoo he found himself again by a river-side, and seeing a small boat he entered it and was soon gliding with the current. It was night when he floated among the trees of the Palace gardens. Thousands of lights glittered through the foliage. The air was burdened with perfume. High above the sombre umbrage rose slender snowy spires, around which the moonbeams lingered lovingly. He left the little skiff and trod the terraced ascent. A meandering brooklet, tributary of the larger stream, was spanned by fairy-like bridges. He hesitated among the intersecting ways, mazy, enchanting, and flower-bordered. The living air was full of subdued sound. [Pg 62]Bubbling water, tinkling bells, and the mingling of many voices made music which was borne on perfumed winds. This was the fairest spot in all sunny Kashmir, where the nightingale sings perpetually in groves of citron, magnolia, and pomegranate.

He reached the splendid portico which was the chief entrance of the Palace. Its carven and gilded roof was supported by alabaster columns. It had been a day of pomp and festival, and courtiers still in their yellow robes of state reclined here, languidly enjoying the cool night air. Atmâ ascended the broad steps where officers of state were marshalled in lines, gold-hilted swords at their sides, and their gorgeous attire glittering with jewels. Here he requested an audience of the Rajah, and, preceded by a servant bearing his credentials, he passed through lofty and magnificent chambers to an ante-room where he rested until summoned to the presence of Golab Singh, whom he found in an inner court lit by rose-hued lamps. The air was cool, delicious and fragrant, the stillness and the softened light were in pleasing contrast to the dazzling splendour of the halls and room he had traversed. Here in an alcove were seated three or four men. The Maharajah received him with [Pg 63]affability, and made gravely courteous enquiries for the health and well-being of Junda Kowr. He welcomed her envoy, and would know of the difficulties and dangers of his journey thither, and added graceful flattery to his commiseration. Then, after much courteous discourse, he confided the young Sikh to the care of attendants, with many injunctions regarding his comfort and refreshment. And Atmâ went out from the august presence with heart elate, for he had instantly observed in the turban of Golab Singh a gem which by its size and hue he knew must be none other than the Sapphire of Fate, whose magical renown might yet in his true hands rally a degenerate Khalsa until such time as the disciples of Nanuk might again know good from evil, and reverence Truth alone.

An hour later, as he left the sumptuous baths where obsequious slaves had attended him, an officer of state approached him with a message from the Rajah.

"Atmâ Singh, there are within these walls Englishmen who hold command in the British army. As a true friend and servitor to the Ranee, and the Maharajah's esteemed guest, do not divulge nor let them [Pg 64]suspect that you had lately audience of her highness."

For Golab Singh, notwithstanding the cruelty of his administration, was friend to all, Christian, Musselman, Brahmin, or Sikh, and did not love to be suspected of an undue sympathy with any, not even when such sympathy might wear the cloak of patriotic loyalty.

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