Chapter 4

"THE TREASURES AT KIKAT."

"I, Alfred Carson, M.D., who relate to you this story, do most solemnly swear to you by all a Christian gentleman holds most sacred, that though stranger far than any fiction, it existed in fact, and that the relation of it here set forth--to which my signature is duly appended--is in each and every particular true. At the time these events occurred, I occupied the post of physician to the Rao of Kikat, which was an unconsidered kingdom in the Northern part of India. I say 'was' advisedly, for since the year of the Mutiny it has been absorbed in our Asiatic Empire. But in 1859--the date of the facts herein related--it was still an independent state, reigned over by Rao Singhapetty, it is true, but free and wealthy nevertheless. Still the Rao, in a small measure, was tributary to the H.E.I.C., and it was to release himself from a nominal payment that he engaged to take part in the great rising. To his folly in this respect this story is due.

"In those days, I was young, poor, rash, and ambitious, yet not without, I think, good parts, mental and moral. If I failed to control the one by the other, the blame for such must lie with Michael Trall. He was one of those rascally adventurers who then infested India, in the hope of becoming Nabobs; fertile in resource, of great courage, and one of the most unscrupulous scoundrels who ever played the part of Mephistopheles for the seduction of weaker spirits to ruin and crime. Whence he came I know not. I conclude his past life was too disreputable to be disclosed, but my knowledge of him dates from the year 1857, when he appeared at the Rao's court, and used his impudent arts to secure an ascendency over the mind of that weak potentate. There he came into contact with me, and with Bellairs.

"Mark Bellairs, my dearest and oldest friend, had come out to India with me. He was then in the army, but having quarrelled with his father, his allowance was cut off, and he was forced to sell out. I suggested that he should travel Eastward in my company, and turn his military knowledge to some account at the court of some petty Rajah. As there was nothing for him to do in England, he agreed to try his luck in the East, and together we arrived in Bombay, with no money, and great ambitions. Of our adventures I need not speak, as they have nothing to do with this story; but we wandered here, there, and everywhere, until Fortune brought us to Kikat. Here, as the Rao was in need of a resident physician, he engaged me, and afterwards, finding that Bellairs had been in the English Service, he placed him in command of his small army. I swear that before the meeting Bellairs and I were quite content with our positions. We had power, the salaries were large, and the Rao was our very good friend. In a few years we hoped to make our fortunes, and return wealthy, and honoured to the Mother country. But for Trall, we might have continued in the straight path, but, like the Belial he was, he drew us from it to earn money and lasting shame.

"I must admit that Trall was a most fascinating man. Handsome, strong, clever, full of conversation and tact, he had acquired complete power over Singha. Then, finding that we had no little say in matters of state, he set his clever wits to work for our conquest--not without success. No doubt, it was weak of us to yield, but the man had a tremendous strength of will, and a power of fascination which could control--and did control--all who personally came in contact with him. Remember, both Bellairs and myself believed him to be an honourable gentleman; and it was not until we were well entangled in his nets that he threw off the mask. Then it was too late.

"There is ever an exception to a rule, and an exception to the well-nigh universal popularity of Trall was to be found in the person of the Rev. Manners Brock, a missionary, who had engaged himself in the hopeless task of converting the Kikat heathen. The pleasant manners and simplicity of Brock made him a great favourite with us all; even the Rao liked him, in spite of his Christianizing propensities, and placed no barrier in his way with the people. Brock was candid almost to the verge of folly. He told us how he stood alone in the world, without parents or relatives; made us acquainted with all the details of his early life as a sizar at Oxford, as a poor London curate, and made a frank declaration of his 'call' to enlighten the idolaters of India. I knew Brock's life as well as I did my own, and felt great respect for his principles and zeal. Trall was studiously affable to him, and tried his hardest to fascinate him into obedience, but somehow Brock managed to avoid his snares. He kept out of Trall's company, undermined his influence with the Rao--which was exercised for no good, you may be sure--and altogether showed our Belial plainly that he considered him a rascal. Naturally, Trall grew to hate him, and would willingly have done him an injury, but as Singha protected the missionary, open warfare was out of the question. However, Trall watched his opportunity, and it came at last--the Mutiny with it.

"When all India blazed with fanaticism from north to south, Rao kept himself and his kingdom out of trouble, although he did not go so far as to side with the English. He adopted a neutral attitude, and no doubt would have maintained it to the end, but that Trall, ever at his elbow, persuaded him to revolt. Singha did not declare open war against the foreigners--he could scarcely have done so while an Englishman headed his army--but he tampered with the mutinous princes, corresponded with them, and declared that he wished to be rid of his tributary necessity. With devilish ingenuity, Trall conducted the whole intrigue, and kept urging Singha openly to declare himself. Bellairs and I protested at first, but in some way, I can hardly say how, Trall involved us in his schemes. What would have been the end of it, had the Rao taken the field, I hardly know, but he hesitated, and hung back until it was too late. The Mutiny was suppressed, and puppets at Delhi were driven into exile, and with them, Trall's hopes of becoming the Vizier of an Eastern king. For a while he raged furiously over his disappointment; then, making the best of a bad job, he began to look about him how best to turn the tide of affairs to his own advantage. It is at this juncture that Bellairs and I come into the story.

"The troubles at an end, Singha naturally wished to make his peace with the victors. It is true that he had not declared himself an enemy, but he had intrigued deeply; he had written compromising letters; and what with the knowledge of myself, Bellairs, and Trall, there was evidence ample to have him dethroned and exiled. He grew afraid of what might happen to him, and implored us all to help him. At this critical moment Trall showed himself in his true colours.

"I have mentioned the compromising letters, and treaties with mutinous Rajahs. Well, Trall had kept copies of these, and also possessed some of the originals. If these documents had been shown to the H.E.I.C. or to Sir Henry Lawrence, there is no doubt that they would have ruined the Rao beyond all hope of keeping his kingdom.

"Singha knew this, and so did Trall, so did Bellairs and I, for the letters were shown to us. Trall proposed to blackmail the Rao; we refused, and then it was he unmasked his batteries. The man--as we then discovered--was a skilful forger, and had signed our names to many of these letters, besides the actual signature of Singha. If he was guilty, we were also, and in a worse degree, seeing that, according to the forgeries, we were ready to massacre our own countrymen. It is impossible to explain how deeply we were involved; but Trall showed us clearly, that if we did not work with him, he could, and would, ruin us. The choice lay between ruin and crime, for in no way could we have proved our innocence. Trall had the letters and treaties, with the Rao's real signature, and the false ones of myself and Bellairs; he had provided himself with more than a dozen witnesses to swear that we were renegades to the British cause; he had entangled us in the political criminality of the Rao, and we saw very plainly that our lives were ruined should the documents ever reach the Governor-General. Bellairs and I took a night to choose between our ruin and crime. Next morning--I blush to set down the fact--we chose shame.

"Consider, I pray you, our position. Trall, as I have shown, had us completely in his power. Guiltless, we should have appeared guilty, and would have been punished and despised--perhaps shot by our own countrymen. No declaration of innocence would have done away with the forgeries. The evidence of our guilt as conspirators with the Rao against the H.E.I.C. was down in black and white, and only our word on oath contradicted it. We were--as the saying goes--in a cleft stick--mere pawns shifted on Life's chess-board by an unscrupulous intriguer. There was nothing for it but to obey Trall, if we wished to save our names from the world's knowledge as those of traitors and renegades. The devil and the deep-sea proverb applies to our position.

"Well, as I have said, we gave in, and Trall proceeded to round off his plot. Money was what he wanted, and money he intended to have, even though he were to share it with Bellairs and myself. He saw Singha, and fixed his price for the inculpating documents. The price was three diamonds--famous not only in Kikat, but throughout India. Three stones of the purest water they were, a large gem and two small ones, valued together at some forty thousand pounds, more or less. Trall intended to keep the most valuable gem for himself, and to give us the other two, 'and I should advise you both to clear out then,' said he, 'for there may be trouble.'

"He was as cool in the midst of all this rascality as though he were engaged, like Brock, in missionary enterprise. When he went to have it out with Singha, we expected he would be killed there and then; but Trall, knowing his risk, knew also how to circumvent it. Of course the Rao was furious and amazed when Trall made his statement and demanded his price; and, of course, being an Indian, his first instinct was to kill the man who had deceived him. But Trall was ready with a counter move. He told Singha that the incriminating papers were in the hands of a third person, and that if he killed him these would be sent on to the Government at Calcutta. As this meant ruin, Singha was not fool enough to resort to violence, and seeing no way out of the snare, he gave up the diamonds. They were called the treasures of Kikat, and were guarded by the priests. Then the blackmailer promised that the papers should be sent back to Singha. Two hours later he presented us with our share, and slipped his own jewel into a chamois leather bag. 'Now,' said he, 'you had better skip. I'm off myself.'

"But before he could get away, the Rao made trouble. Afraid lest Trall should not return the papers, he made a clean breast of the whole thing to Brock. The missionary was fearfully angry, and without trusting himself to Trall's mercies, started straight away for Calcutta, there to lay the whole matter before the Government. He promised to get Singha out of his trouble, and have Trall arrested for his wickedness. There was no mention of Bellairs or myself, as the Rao did not know how Trall had been plotting with us. Brock got away, though Trall heard of his mission through his spies, and followed him, determined to stop his visit to Calcutta at any cost should he prove unreasonable. Bellairs and I remained with the Rao, and made up our minds to get away at the first opportunity with our diamonds. We did not know what might happen, and thought it best to be on the safe side and save our skins, at all events. In time, Singha received the papers, and, of course, saw our signatures. He applied to Bellairs for an explanation. I was absent at the time, so Bellairs saw the Rao alone. What took place at the interview I hardly knew, for Bellairs was never very explicit. But it seemed that Singha accused Bellairs of betraying him, and tried to stab him on the spot. The end of the struggle was that Bellairs passed his sword through the Rao's heart, and then came to tell me what he had done. As I saw that everything might come out, I advised immediate flight. That same night we both left Kikat.

"Shortly afterwards we learned how Singha's heir had found his father's dead body and the treasonable papers. Fearing that these, if exposed, might cost him his newly acquired throne, he wisely determined to let sleeping dogs lie. Whether he knew that Bellairs killed Singha or not I cannot say, but he probably guessed that we were implicated, from our disappearance. His measures were prompt and judicious. He burnt the papers, gave out that his father had died of apoplexy, and took possession of the State. As there was nothing to compromise, he made matters right with the Government, and when Singha's corpse was burnt on a pile, in accordance with the Hindoo custom, there was nobody to show the violence of the death. The new Rao did not pursue in case we might get him into trouble. He simply let the matter die out, and commenced his reign with the support of the Government.

"I believe, if the truth were known, he was glad his father was dead. What became of Trall I never heard; but Mr. Brock was not afterwards molested by him. He was probably satisfied with his spoil. Mr. Brock returned to England, and was presented by Bellairs with the living of Casterwell; but before leaving he put the whole facts of the case before those in power. But they, taking into consideration that Singha was dead, and that Trall had decamped, and, moreover, having regard to the then distracted state of the country, decided to let well alone. Thus it was all made very easy for Singha's son. The priests, I believe, made some fuss about the removal of the treasures of Kikat, but the new Rao soon put an end to them. He judged it better to lose the jewels than his throne. And so the trouble ended without in any way inculpating either Bellairs or myself.

"I made up my mind that I must part from my friend--my friend no longer, for I could not forgive the murder of Singha. Nor would I touch the money which had been gained by the price of dishonour and of blood. I gave my diamond to Bellairs, and, turning my back on him, went to live like a hermit in a corner of the Himalayas. That my nerves were shaken by my late troubles I do not deny. And I must also state that Trall's treachery, Singha's death, and Bellairs' wickedness disgusted me with the world. I felt the only life I could endure was one of solitude. Bellairs returned to England, made his peace with his father, and shortly after became the Squire of Casterwell, with Brock as his rector. Trall had dropped out of sight with his ill-gotten gains. He may be dead or alive, rich or poor, I know not; what is more, I do not care. The man ruined my life, soiled my honour, and I hate him.

"Years afterwards I grew weary of my solitude, and married a young Eurasian lady. She died when my son Angus was born, and, alone once more, I devoted myself to the education of the boy. As he grew up he displayed such talents that I reflected seriously how best to advance him in life. He was poor; I was old, and when I died Angus would be penniless. Then it occurred to me how wrong I had been in giving up the diamond. For my boy's sake I resolved to make peace with Bellairs, the more so when I heard that he also was married and was the father of an only daughter. With sudden resolution I wrote to Casterwell, and proposed that my son should marry his daughter, and that the value of the two diamonds should be given to them when they became man and wife.

"To this Bellairs replied that the gems were not so valuable as we had thought. He had sold both for thirty-eight thousand pounds, and this money he had deposited in the bank to accumulate. His father had left him well off, so he had himself made no use of the money. With the interest that had accrued, he said that it amounted to some fifty thousand pounds. He intended to invest this, and would share the income arising therefrom with me; but he refused to let his daughter marry my son. I replied that he was at liberty to retain the income to himself. I told him that I would not touch the money; but that if he did not consent to the marriage, and on the marriage-day give to my son Angus the capital sum of fifty thousand pounds, I would write to the Home Government, and divulge the murder by him of the Rao Singha. On this Bellairs gave in, and consented to the marriage. I drew out the clause relating to the money, which was to be incorporated in his will, and sent it to him. Out of the fifty thousand pounds which Angus would receive on his marriage with Olive Bellairs, he was to allow her a yearly income of a thousand pounds. This I considered was fair, and Bellairs thought so too, for he made his will as I directed.

"The present document I now send to Manners Brock by the hand of my son Angus. I wish him to deal with it in this fashion: If the marriage takes place it is to be destroyed. If Olive refuses, he is to show her this statement, and threaten to publish it unless she consents to the match. Bellairs is now dead, and it is possible he may have tricked me in some way. But I am not to be tricked. Unless my wish is carried out this story is to be laid before the authorities. They will then confiscate the Rao's money, and publish to the world the wickedness of Bellairs. It lies with Olive to save the money and protect the memory of her father by marrying Angus. If she declines--well, she knows what will happen. Brock, whom I admire and respect, will never let my son lose the money that I wish him to have, and, by our old friendship, I conjure him to obey me. Angus knows the story as it is here set forth, and will respect, and aid towards the consummation of my wish. For the rest, I maintain I am more than liberal in allowing my son to marry the daughter of a murderer.

"(Signed), Alfred Carson, M.D."