Rujub, the Juggler | Page 3

I doubt whether we have anything that will beat the
Bombay crack on this side; I fancy you will have to lay odds on."
"We shall see," the Rajah said; "I have always been unlucky, but I
mean to win this time."
"I don't think you take your losses much to heart, Rajah," General
Wheeler said; "yet there is no doubt that your bets are generally
somewhat rash ones."
"I mean to make a coup this time. That is your word for a big thing, I
think. The Government has treated me so badly I must try to take
something out of the pockets of its officers."
"You do pretty well still," the General laughed; "after this splendid

entertainment you have given us this evening you can hardly call
yourself a poor man."
"I know I am rich. I have enough for my little pleasures--I do not know
that I could wish for more--still no one is ever quite content."
By this time the party was breaking up, and for the next half hour the
Rajah was occupied in bidding goodby to his guests. When the last had
gone he turned and entered the palace, passed through the great halls,
and, pushing aside a curtain, entered a small room. The walls and the
columns were of white marble, inlaid with arabesque work of colored
stones. Four golden lamps hung from the ceiling, the floor was covered
with costly carpets, and at one end ran a raised platform a foot in height,
piled with soft cushions. He took a turn or two up and down the room,
and then struck a silver bell. An attendant entered.
"Send Khoosheal and Imambux here."
Two minutes later the men entered. Imambux commanded the Rajah's
troops, while Khoosheal was the master of his household.
"All has gone off well," the Rajah said; "I am pleased with you,
Khoosheal. One more at most, and we shall have done with them. Little
do they think what their good friend Nana Sahib is preparing for them.
What a poor spirited creature they think me to kiss the hand that robbed
me, to be friends with those who have deprived me of my rights! But
the day of reckoning is not far off, and then woe to them all! Have any
of your messengers returned, Imambux?"
"Several have come in this evening, my lord; would you see them now,
or wait till morning?"
"I will see them now; I will get the memory of these chattering men and
these women with their bare shoulders out of my mind. Send the men
in one by one. I have no further occasion for you tonight; two are better
than three when men talk of matters upon which an empire depends."
The two officers bowed and retired, and shortly afterwards the

attendant drew back the curtain again, and a native, in the rags of a
mendicant, entered, and bowed till his forehead touched the carpet.
Then he remained kneeling, with his arms crossed over his chest, and
his head inclined in the attitude of the deepest humility.
"Where have you been?" the Rajah asked.
"My lord's slave has been for three weeks at Meerut. I have obeyed
orders. I have distributed chupaties among the native regiments, with
the words, 'Watch, the time is coming,' and have then gone before I
could be questioned. Then, in another disguise, I have gone through the
bazaar, and said in talk with many that the Sepoys were unclean and
outcast, for that they had bitten cartridges anointed with pig's fat, and
that the Government had purposely greased the cartridges with this fat
in order that the caste of all the Sepoys should be destroyed. When I
had set men talking about this I left; it will be sure to come to the
Sepoys' ears."
The Rajah nodded. "Come again tomorrow at noon; you will have your
reward then and further orders; but see that you keep silence; a single
word, and though you hid in the farthest corner of India you would not
escape my vengeance."
Man after man entered. Some of them, like the first, were in
mendicant's attire, one or two were fakirs, one looked like a well to do
merchant. With the exception of the last, all had a similar tale to tell;
they had been visiting the various cantonments of the native army,
everywhere distributing chupaties and whispering tales of the intention
of the Government to destroy the caste of the Sepoys by greasing the
cartridges with pig's fat. The man dressed like a trader was the last to
enter.
"How goes it, Mukdoomee?"
"It is well, my lord; I have traversed all the districts where we dwelt of
old, before the Feringhee stamped us out and sent scores to death and
hundreds to