The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [262]
‘Good,’ said Ash, surprised at this swift capitulation.
‘I would have spoken long ago, Sahib, had I dreamt that you might suspect me. But such a thought did not enter my mind, so when my servant, Karam, confessed all and threw himself upon my mercy, and I learned that no grave harm had been done and no complaints raised, I foolishly agreed not to betray him – though you must not think that I did not punish him. I assure you I did, most severely. But he told me – and I believe him – that he never intended to steal the gun; only to borrow it so that he might shoot kala hirren' (black-buck) ‘who come out to graze at night; there being those in our camp who eat meat and will pay good money for it. He had meant to replace the gun before it was missed, but in the darkness he mistook the Sahib for a buck, and fired, and on discovering his mistake was overcome with terror, for he said that until you leapt upon him he thought that he had killed you; and when at length he escaped from you, having dropped the gun and left a piece of clothing in your hands, he said nothing of all this but gave out that he had been injured in a fall. I myself would never have learned of it had it not been that only the day before I had given him an old coat of mine, forgetting that I had left an earring in one of the pockets, and when I realized what I had done I asked him for it, and it was then that he confessed all. Sahib – you may imagine my horror!’
He paused as though in expectation of some comment, and when Ash offered none, sighed deeply and shook his head over the recollection of that moment. ‘I should have hauled him before you on the instant – know it,’‘confessed Biju Ram magnanimously. ‘But he begged me with tears to be merciful; and as you, Sahib, had made no report of the matter and by good fortune had been unharmed, I acceded to his request, and did not find it in my heart to denounce him. He promised, too, that he would find and return my earring, but had I known that he would search your tent for it, or that you had recognized the coat as mine and suspected me of being the culprit, I would have come to you at once and told you the truth, and you would have given me my earring and all would have been well. The fault was mine – admit it – was too lenient with my rascal of a servant, and for that I ask your pardon. But had you been in my place, and the offender one of your own men, would you not have done the same? I am sure of it! And now, Sahib, having told you all, I would beg leave to return to the camp. Tomorrow my budmarsh of a servant shall present himself before you to make full confession of his fault and receive whatever punishment you think fit. This I can promise you.’
‘Yes, I am sure you can,’ said Ash dryly. ‘And I can also be sure that he will repeat what you have told me, word for word; because he will not dare to do otherwise. Also I imagine that you will see that he is well rewarded for acting as scapegoat.’
‘The Sahib wrongs me,’ protested Biju Ram, injured. ‘I have spoken only the truth. Moreover, there are many who can bear witness that I did not leave my tent that night, and –’
‘And that on the following morning your face showed no signs of cuts or scratches,’ finished Ash. ‘Of course. Though I think I have heard otherwise. But no matter – even if that could be proved I am sure that you and your friends would have some plausible story to account for it. Very well then. Since it seems that you can produce so many witnesses to swear that you speak truth, let us pretend that it was not you but one of your servants who stole my gun and tried to shoot me with it while wearing, by chance, a cast-off garment that you had generously given him only a day before. But what of the earring? Have you witnesses to prove that it is indeed yours?’
The moonlight betrayed the sudden, startled widening of Biju Ram's eyes, and Ash saw it and knew that