Chandrashekhar (Mullick)/Part2/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII.
GALSTAUN AND JOHNSON.
WHEN Ramcharan had gone away with Shaibalini, and Protap had left the boat, the Telinga sepoy who was sitting on the roof with his arm disabled by Protap’s blow, slowly got up on the bank. He took the way of Shaibalini’s palanquin, and keeping at a safe distance, marked and followed it. He belonged to the Mahomedan persuasion; Bakaullah Khan was his name. The Indian troops that accompanied Clive in his first expedition to Bengal had come from Madras (Telingana), hence all the Indian soldiers belonging to the British army in Bengal at that time were called Telingas. Many up—country Hindus and Mussalmans had enlisted in the British army since then. Bakaullah’s home was near about Gazipur.
Bakaullah followed the palanquin unperceived to Protap’s lodging, and saw it enter the house. He then bent his steps to Amyatt’s quarters. He found a great excitement there.
Amyatt had heard all about the barge incident. Bakaullah was told that Amyatt had promised a reward of thousand rupees to any one who would bring him information about the offenders. Bakaullah then went to Amyatt, and gave him the whole history, adding, “I can point out the house of the bandit.” Amyatt’s face brightened up, the pucker of his eyebrows relaxed, and he ordered four sepoys and a sergeant to accompany Bakaullah, enjoining on them to bring the miscreants arrested to him. "In that case,” suggested Bakaullah, “send two Englishmen with us. Protap Roy is the very devil incarnate, the natives of this country will not be able to cope with him.”
According to Amyatt’s orders, two Englishmen by name Galstaun and Johnson accompanied Bakaullah armed.
When they were about to start Galstaun asked Bakaullah————
“Had you ever been inside the house?”
“No,” said Bakaullah.
Then addressing Johnson, Galstaun said, "In that case take some candles and matches with you. Hindus do not burn oil for expense.”
Johnson took some candles and matches in his pocket.
Then they began to step the public highway in the solemn tramp of a British march. No one spoke a word. Four sepoys, the sergeant and Bakaullah, brought up the rear. The city watchman shrank away in fear on their appearance. Galstaun and Johnson together with the sepoys silently approached Protap’s house and gave low knocks on the door. Ramcharan got up and came to answer the door.
Ramcharan was a peerless servant. In shampooing, in anointing the oil, he was a finished hand. In plaiting the wearing cloth, in getting up the toilet, he was extremely clever. In looking after the lights and furniture, he had no match. In striking a bargain, the like of him was rare. But these were his minor qualifications. He was well-known all over Murshidabad for weilding the club; many Hindus and Mussalmans had measured the ground under the charm of his arm. How quick he was with his gun, and of what unerring aim, had been written with the blood of Foster on the waters of the Ganges.
But above all, Ramcharan had yet another seasonable qualification—his cunning. He was cunning as a fox, but at the same time of unparallelled faith and devotion to his master.
On his way to open the door he thought, who should be knocking at the door at this time of the night? Is it the ascetic? Not unlikely! Whatever that might be, we have done some mischief; I should not open the door without making sure.”
With this decision he quietly came and stood at the door for a while and listened. He heard two persons whispering in a foreign tongue. Ramcharan designated it as Indil Mindil; now people call it English. He said to himself, “Wait my boy! If I should at all open the door I must have my gun in hand. Dub me a wife’s brother,[1] if you catch me trusting Indil Mindil! ”
“I am afraid one gun will not do,” further thought, Ramcharan, “let me call the master.” With this idea he turned back to call Protap.
By this time the Englishmen’s patience had been lost. “Why do you wait?” cried Johnson, “kick away. the Indian door cannot resist the British kick.”
Galstaun gave a kick. The door shock and rattled. Ramcharan begun to run. The noise had reached Protap’s ears, and he came down the steps. The door did not give way now.
Then Johnson gave another kick. The door burst away and fell down.
"Thus,” said the Englishmen, “let all India tumble down at the British kick,” and they triumphantly entered the house. The sepoys followed.
Protap met Ramcharan on the stairs. Ramcharan whispered to him, “Go hide yourself in the dark, the Englishmen have come, perhaps from Ambat’s[2] factory.” Ramcharan used to pronounce Amyatt, as Ambat.
“What is the fear?"
“There are eight men.”
“If I am to hide myself, what will become of the women who are in the house? Go, fetch my gun.”
If Ramcharan had known the English well, he would not have advised Protap to hide himself. By the time the above conversation had been going on, the house was suddenly filled with light. Johnson gave a burning candle into the hand of a sepoy. In the light of the candle the Englishmen saw two men standing on the steps.
“What, are these the men?” asked Johnson of Bakaullah.
Bakaullah could not exactly make out. He had seen Protap and Ramcharan in a dark night, consequently he could not clearly recognize. But the pain of his broken arm had become insufferable; some one must pay for it and he said, “Yes, they are the men,” without any further hesitation.
Then like a tiger the Englishmen bounced up the stairs. When Ramcharan found that the sepoys were following, he flew headlong up the steps to fetch Protap’s gun.
Johnson saw it, aimed his pistol, and fired. Shot in the leg, Ramcharan lost his locomotion, and he plumped down on the ground.
Protap was unarmed but loath to run away; moreover he saw what happened to Ramcharan in the attempt.
“Who are you?” quietly asked Protap, “What brings you here?”
“Who are you?” asked Johnson in return.
“I am Protap Roy,” answered Protap. Bakaullah remembered that name. Gun in hand, Protap had proudly held forth on the barge, “Listen, my name is Protap.” At once Bakaullah cried out, “Master, that man is the ringleader.”
Johnson caught Protap by one arm, Galstaun took the other. Protap found that resistance was useless. He quietly bore all. The sergeant had the handcuffs with him, and he fastened them on Protap’s hands. Pointing at the prostrate Ramcharan, Galstaun said, “Why do you leave that fellow?” Johnson ordered two sepoys to take him also, and they dragged Ramcharan along.
The tumult had roused Dalani and Kulsam from their sleep and put them into a great fright. With the door of their chamber slightly ajar they had been peeping out and observing everything. Their sleeping-room adjoined the stairs.
When the Englishmen descended with Ramcharan, the light from a candle in the hand of a sepoy, suddenly fell through the slightly parted door on the sapphire eyes of Dalani. Bakaullah saw those eyes and at once cried out, “There, there is the mistress of Mr. Foster!”
“Exactly so, where is she?” asked Galstaun.
Pointing at the aforesaid door, Bakaullah said, “There, in that room.”
Johnson and Galstaun entered the room and observing Dalani and Kulsam said, “You must come with us.”
In terror and bewilderment Dalani and Kulsam followed them.
Shaibalini was left alone in the house. She too had seen everything.