Owing to the combined influence of Charteris's strong hand, Gerrard's lavish promises to the army, and what Colonel Antony chose to style the "moderation" of Sher Singh, the succession of Kharrak Singh to his father's throne was effected without general bloodshed. The city was evidently seething with all the possibilities of revolt when the funeral procession entered and passed through the streets, but the army was staunch for the moment—apparently from a sportsmanlike readiness to allow Gerrard to redeem his promises if he could—and one or two attempts at disturbance were ruthlessly put down. The women and the corpse of Partab Singh were got safely into the palace, and Sher Singh, who would have liked to edge in under cover of the confusion, dexterously excluded. The walls were garrisoned by the loyal guard, the disappointed Sher Singh quartering himself with his followers in the house of a reluctant Armenian near at hand, and Gerrard and Charteris spent an arduous night in getting up from the secret treasury an amount sufficient to fulfil their obligations. The heads of the goldsmiths' guild had been warned to be in attendance early in the morning, and they came with a mixture of surly defiance and ostentation of poverty that showed they expected Gerrard's financial expedient to take the form of obtaining a forced loan from them. The sight of the gold ingots softened them wonderfully, and though it would not have been human nature had they failed to exact an exorbitant rate of exchange for their silver, both sides parted well pleased, the money-changers only grieving that they could not discover whether this transaction was a final one, or merely a prelude to further business of the same sort.

The military arrangements for the funeral were made by Gerrard and Charteris, who were quite aware that they and their men, in the character of sympathetic spectators, were in as great danger as Kharrak Singh himself. The army must be entrusted with the duty of keeping the ground, since it was necessary for the guard, with the exception of a small detachment, to remain at the palace and garrison it in case of a surprise attack, and had the army been ill-disposed, it could have swept away both claimants and the small Ranjitgarh force with a single volley. But the army remained unmoved, and Sher Singh walked behind Kharrak Singh as mourner, and guided his hand when he set light to the great pyre of sandalwood dripping with costly perfumes. It was the first time that the body of a Rajah of Agpur had been burnt without the accompanying self-immolation of a number of his women, and troops and Brahmins were alike displeased, while the mob surging outside the lines enlivened the ceremony with taunts and maledictions. The troops made various raids into the crowd to punish the most outspoken of the dissentients, and this may have served to assure the people that there would be no change in the drastic methods of Partab Singh. At any rate, when the dead man's two sons had watched the pyre burn down into ashes, had performed the ceremonies of purification and were returning—on separate elephants, for the Rani had insisted on this—to the square before the palace for the proclamation of the new Rajah, the mob acclaimed Kharrak Singh with ardour.

There was some approach to a riot when Partab Singh's will was made known, appointing the Rani Gulab Kur regent for her son Kharrak Singh, and begging Gerrard to undertake the office of protector to both, and loud cries were raised for Sher Singh; but when it was announced that Sher Singh had consented to refer the question of his appointment as joint-regent to the arbitration of the Ranjitgarh Durbar, the popular wrath was turned against him also. Both he and the Rani were equally committed to what the Agpuris considered a traitorous and unpatriotic reliance on Ranjitgarh and the English, and the stern unbending advocates of independence were for getting rid of both. But at present the executive power lay in the hands of the army, and the army was being placated with gifts of rupees to the rank and file, and of jewellery, swords, shawls, and robes of honour to the officers. The army thereupon decided that the promises made in Kharrak Singh's name had been kept, and that it would be worth waiting to see if he had more largess to distribute before turning against him. The local Durbar, seeing the course things were taking, adapted itself to circumstances with great readiness, and paid its respects to the Rani Gulab Kur through her curtain, having purged itself of the irreconcilables who demanded an instant massacre and an open defiance of the English and of their allies at Ranjitgarh.

No sooner was this peaceful settlement reached, than Gerrard received peremptory orders to leave Charteris in charge at Agpur, and present himself at Ranjitgarh, with all documents and witnesses bearing on the case, that Sher Singh's claim and Partab Singh's testamentary dispositions might be inquired into. If he had been a little inclined to plume himself on the success he and Charteris had achieved, he was now to meet with a wholesome corrective, for Colonel Antony was much displeased with him, and showed it plainly. He had added infinitely to the already overwhelming cares of the Resident at Ranjitgarh, and had brought into close political union with the British power a province which would have been much better left to itself. He should have drawn back at once when Partab Singh showed signs of wishing to cultivate his personal rather than his political friendship, and left the rival heirs to settle things between themselves, instead of allowing himself to be made the tool of an ambitious woman and a doating old man.

So convinced was Colonel Antony of the righteousness of Sher Singh's cause that for once he overbore the opposition of his Durbar. The Durbar considered that Partab Singh's recorded disinheritance of his elder son, and the presumed reasons for it, which were known by hearsay to every story-teller in Granthistan, were sufficient to bar his recognition as regent and heir presumptive; but Colonel Antony thought that the secrecy with which the Prince had been condemned, and the absence of any documentary evidence, rendered it extremely probable that his father had been misled by false information, and condemned him unheard and innocent. Therefore the unwilling Durbar were impelled in the way which they were reluctant to take of their own accord, and Mr James Antony was despatched to Ranjitgarh to interview the Rani through the curtain, and inform her that she was thenceforth to regard her stepson as her coadjutor in the work of government. The envoy expected tears and lamentations, and pathetic attempts to induce the Resident to alter his decision, but the Rajput lady fought with other than women's weapons. In clear cold tones she issued her ultimatum. Sher Singh was to be absolutely debarred access to the palace, and was to make no attempt to communicate with her otherwise than by messenger, and Gerrard was to be appointed Resident at Agpur, with quarters in the fort, and the special task of watching over the safety of Kharrak Singh. Otherwise the Rani would poison herself and her son and every soul in the zenana, and then set fire to the building, that the ashes might remain for ever as a monument to the perfidy of the English.

James Antony tried reasoning and threats, but in vain. The only answer to his remonstrances was an intimation from the Rani that she declined to receive him again until he had referred the matter to Ranjitgarh and could bring her a definite answer. Not, perhaps, wholly unwilling to demonstrate the ill success of his brother's theories, he did as she desired, recommending that Gerrard should become acting-Resident, with the duty of keeping the peace between the two Regents, and serving as a means of communication between them. Colonel Antony was very angry, but Gerrard was so obviously the only possible person for such a post, in view of the confidence reposed in him by Partab Singh, that he gave way, telling him, as Charteris had done before, that the difficulties of the position would in all probability make it more of a punishment than promotion. With this cheering prophecy in his ears Gerrard departed for Agpur, and Charteris, riding out to meet him, saw at once that he was in low spirits. He gave no hint of his discovery, however, until the state entry into the city and the first formal visits were over, and the two were left to themselves at the Residency, which Charteris had employed the interval in fortifying, according to a plan drawn out by Gerrard before he left, so that it formed a kind of minor citadel inside the great palace enclosure. They were sitting on the broad verandah, with its tiled roof supported by solid pillars of masonry, which had served as frame to one of Gerrard's pictures of imaginary bliss, when Charteris broke the silence.

"Well, you are in the blues, my boy, and no mistake! What's the meaning of it? Here are you just returned from the giddy haunts of society and fashion, with a face as long as one of Padri Jardine's sermons, while I, who have seen no European countenance for a month but the rough-hewn phiz of our Mr James, am as cheerful as a cricket."

"Result of having got what I wanted, I suppose Antony would say. Did you indulge a sneaking hope of gaining a little credit on the score of our exploits here, Bob?"

"Hardly. There's a prejudice nowadays against subalterns annexing empires without orders, you know. Precious silly, of course, but one must take it into account."

"Well, I might have been an escaped convict from Botany Bay, by the way Antony jawed me. And other people took their tone from him, naturally, except—— By the way, I dined at the Cinnamonds' one night."

"And was our bright particular star visible?"

"She was. So was a young cub of a civilian—just gone into stick-ups,
I should imagine."

"Dangerous?"

"I think not. Merely having his mind and morals improved, if I am any judge."

"Ah, we know all about that, don't we, old boy? Not that any beggarly civilian is going to join this noble fellowship, is he? The more he keeps his distance the better we shall be pleased. And the lady of our mutual adoration——?"

"She barely spoke to me. At least"—with an effort—"she did ask whether I sent to request your help or whether you came of your own accord. Of course I told her it was that."

"And then?"

"She said it was just what she would have expected of you."

Charteris burst into a roar of laughter. "Oh, poor old beggar! and he ain't jealous, not a bit! Never mind, Hal; when you have pulled me out of a hole, I shall have to praise you up to her, and won't it go against the grain! Ray-ther—just a few! But has the fair lady lent an ear to slander? You don't think she can have heard anything about the Rani?" cautiously.

"What do you know about the Rani?" cried Gerrard furiously.

"Simply that James Antony thought fit to tell me it had struck him that it would be very convenient for the transaction of public business, and very much for the safety of Kharrak Singh, if you or I married the lady. You were the favourite, as in a way marked out by her husband's will. One of our Mr James's witticisms, of course, and in vile taste, as usual."

"His taste is his own affair; what I mind are his abominable practical jokes. Do you know that he said this same thing to the Colonel, but put it as though I had approved, or even proposed, the arrangement?"

"The Colonel is a little apt to jump to conclusions, when they involve the depravity of other people," suggested Charteris. "It's just possible that he misunderstood his brother."

"Then I wish to goodness they would adopt some means of communication that left no room for misunderstanding. There Antony sent for me, and reviled me as if I had been a criminal of the deepest dye; said that Granthistan would stink in the nostrils of all India if these marriages with native women continued, and threatened to send me back to Bengal unless I gave up all thoughts of it at once."

"Alas, poor Hal! And what did you do?"

"Told him that I had got pretty well accustomed by this time to be reprimanded for everything I did, but when it came to being jawed for things I had no thought of doing, and wouldn't do for all the wealth of Delhi, I was hanged if I would stand it. Then I handed in my resignation on the spot."

"And what did he do?"

"Begged my pardon, like a man and a gentleman and a Christian as he is, dear old fellow! Asked me as a favour to withdraw my resignation, and shook hands."

"Well, you have got on his soft side, and no mistake! But what had riled him? Who were your predecessors in iniquity?"

"Oh, you haven't heard. Remember Horry Arbuthnot, big dashing fellow in the Cavalry? He has been and gone and married the daughter of old Murid-ud-din of Bala."

"You don't say so! How on earth did he manage it?"

"Why, he was sent up to help Tika Singh in pacifying the hill tracts—or rather, to keep him from perpetrating a massacre and calling it pacification—and Murid-ud-din's widow and family had taken refuge there. I don't know how the trick was done, but I daresay Tika Singh had a finger in the pie. He had taken a fancy to Arbuthnot, and may have wished to get a hold over him—at any rate, the bold Horace made definite proposals. Then the thing came to Antony's ears—Tika Singh may have had a hand in that too—and the fat was in the fire. He sent up orders—to Tika Singh, mind you—to send Arbuthnot down under arrest forthwith, and so nip his matrimonial project in the bud. Now it so happened—the course of true love running smooth for once—that Antony's letter reached Tika Singh on the eve of a great festival, and of course he couldn't possibly open it. But he took a squint inside, or the messenger told him the drift of it, or something, and by some most regrettable leakage the contents got to Arbuthnot's ears. The fellow is like you, Bob; he don't let the grass grow under his feet. He married the lady that night by Mohammedan rites under the auspices of her mother, who was highly in favour of the match, and they set off post-haste for Gajnipur. Another remarkable coincidence—only the day before Tika Singh had given Arbuthnot a duplicate of his own signet, which would carry him anywhere in Bala. Antony's orders had been confidential, so that they got to Gajnipur and were married by the Padri there before the truth got out."

"I don't envy that Padri," said Charteris.

"Nor I. Antony would have declared himself Pope of Granthistan if that would have enabled him to invalidate the marriage, but the younger Begum is indubitably Mrs Arbuthnot, and means to remain so. So Antony has packed them both back to the hill tracts, with the intimation that Arbuthnot may consider himself permanently relegated to the society of his new relations and his kind friend Tika Singh."

"Which means utter and absolute ruin, of course. Well, I call it uncommon hard."

"I don't know. Suppose Antony had written, 'Return to your sorrowing chief, and all shall be forgiven,' and done the heavy father business when they turned up, and set both Mrs Antonys and Lady Cinnamond to call on the Begum Arbuthnot, what would it have been but an encouragement to other fellows to go and do likewise?"

"Will the fellow find it worth it, I wonder? Funny thing what a difference a woman can make in a man's life."

Gerrard assented with almost a groan. "She plays the very mischief sometimes. Bob, I can't help thinking that perhaps you were right when you suggested we had better agree to give up all thoughts of her, both of us."

The light-brown eyes, which gave a peculiar character to Charteris's red-tanned face, flamed suddenly. "I suggest such a thing?" he cried. "Hal, you are mad. What I said was that I would never, under any circumstances, enter into such an agreement. Give up if you like. I go on until I die or she marries me."

"Or me," said Gerrard, laughing mirthlessly.

Charteris struck his hand upon the table. "Are you trying to provoke me, Hal? I have stood a good deal from you, but there are limits. What's come over you?"

"Oh, forebodings—presentiments, that's all."

"You always were a superstitious sort of chap."

Charteris's passion had faded. "Had this sort of thing before?"

"Oh yes, often."

"And the presentiments always came true?"

"No-o, not always."

"I should think not!" shouted Charteris, with a mighty burst of laughter. "Never was anything like the presentiments I had before going into action the first time, and now I remember it, you were pretty much the same, but we both came out without a scratch. Cheer up, old boy. Who would think it was you that gave Sher Singh the lie to his face, and started calmly to march to certain death? Here, let me mix you a peg. I looks towards you, sir."

"I likewise bows," said Gerrard, with a perfunctory smile. "You don't think me altogether a coward, Bob? There is something evil about the atmosphere of this place. I felt it as I rode in at the gateway."

"I should recommend the estimable Moraes and a blue-pill," said Charteris, yawning. "Coward? nonsense! an overworked conscience sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought is more your number. And now, as I march at a commendably early hour in the morning——"

"I wish you were staying on with me, Bob."

"Oh no, you don't. Think of the evil atmosphere of the place getting hold of me too. Why, we should sit in corners and grind our teeth at one another. You forget the healthy rivalry between us. No, no, you will do bear-leader to the youngster, and keep Sher Singh and the Rani from scratching each other's eyes out, and I'll knock down some more robber castles in Darwan, and demand your help when I stir up a more vicious hornets' nest than ordinary. By the bye, when there was mortar and all kinds of mess about, I took the opportunity of bringing up a little more gold from the treasury—ten thousand rupees' worth or so, as nearly as I could guess—and building it into this wall here," he indicated the parapet of the terrace with his cheroot. "It is behind this bluish stone. You may be glad of it in an emergency."

"You think of everything, old boy. Sorry I haven't been a jollier companion to-night."

They parted the next morning, Charteris riding out to take up again the nomadic life and open-air work that he loved, while Gerrard remained to begin his irksome task of trying to induce the Regents, the Durbar, the army and the citizens to lay aside their differences and aim at the common good. The Rani's one idea was to safeguard her son's position by securing the loyalty of the army at all costs. The faintest sign of discontent among the troops threw her into a frenzy of terror, and brought orders for the instant granting of all demands and a distribution of rupees. As a natural result, the army speedily dominated the whole city, and kept the rest of the inhabitants in subjection, secure of the Rani's favour. The Durbar, composed largely of Partab Singh's old councillors, lifted up voices of protest and lamentation when there were no soldiers about, but maintained a discreet silence in their hearing. Which side Sher Singh took, Gerrard found it difficult to discover. He complained bitterly in private of the arrogance of the army, the supineness of the Durbar, and the unreasonable behaviour of his co-Regent, but he seemed not to be making any attempt to form a party of his own, that might work towards a healthier state of things. Gerrard himself was the butt for every one's ill-humour. The Rani and the troops alike execrated him when he declined to give his sanction to the distribution of a largess demanded without even a shadow of pretext, and Sher Singh and the Durbar sighed reproachfully over his inability to keep the army in its proper place.

The one spot of light in the gloom was the behaviour of little Kharrak Singh, who proclaimed and exercised his royal will in the matter of seeking the society of Jirad Sahib. That the Rani was intensely jealous of his influence Gerrard perceived by many indications, but she could not refuse to be guided by the directions left by her husband, and she was at any rate assured of the boy's safety while he was with him. Surrounded by a small army of guards, they would ride through the muttering streets out into the open country, and there cast off for a few delightful hours the restraints of state. But this happened very seldom, and Kharrak Singh was generally to be found on the Residency verandah, where Gerrard, immersed in business, had to answer his unceasing questions, instil such rudiments of useful information as he could, and generally endeavour to prepare the child for the great future before him. It was clear that the native tutors had no control whatever over their illustrious pupil, and every creature in and about the zenana was his submissive slave, so that Gerrard became seriously exercised as to the development of his character. At times he had visions of obtaining a European tutor for him—an absolutely revolutionary innovation for those days—but the impossibility of bringing the Durbar to see the wisdom of such a course, or of securing proper support for the unhappy man who might be appointed, deterred him. To remove the child from the city, into surroundings mentally more healthy, was of course impossible, and therefore Kharrak Singh continued to come each day to the Residency with his attendants, dismissing all but a favoured few with a regal wave of the hand at the foot of the steps, and climbing on the divan arranged for him, to sit there and talk under the pretence of looking at pictures. Gerrard had sent for his books from down-country by this time, and after long journeying on the heads of groaning coolies, and many vicissitudes by the way, they now graced his meagrely furnished rooms. In the daytime they were useful in teaching Kharrak Singh the bare beginnings of the English language, and in the long evenings they served to mitigate the loneliness of the house which had presented itself as an abode of bliss for two, but was sadly too large for one.