I followed him to his room, for something in the story had revived a memory.By dint of much persuasion I dragged from the somnolent George various details.The family in question were Beharis, large landholders dwelling near the Nepal border.He had known old Ram Singh for years, and had seen him twice since his return from England.He got the story from him under no promise of secrecy, for the family drug was as well known in the neighbourhood as the nine incarnations of Krishna.He had no doubt about the truth of it, for he had positive proof."And others besides me," said George."Do you remember when Vennard had a lucid interval a couple of years ago and talked sense for once? That was old Ram Singh's doing, for he told me about it."Three years ago it seems the Government of India saw fit to appoint a commission to inquire into land tenure on the Nepal border.Some of the feudal Rajahs had been "birsing yont," like the Breadalbanes, and the smaller zemindars were gravely disquieted.The result of the commission was that Ram Singh had his boundaries rectified, and lost a mile or two of country which his hard-fisted fathers had won.
I know nothing of the rights of the matter, but there can be no doubt about Ram Singh's dissatisfaction.He appealed to the law courts, but failed to upset the commission's finding, and the Privy Council upheld the Indian judgment.Thereupon in a flowery and eloquent document he laid his case before the Viceroy, and was told that the matter was closed.Now Ram Singh came of a fighting stock, so he straightway took ship to England to petition the Crown.He petitioned Parliament, but his petition went into the bag behind the Speaker's chair, from which there is no return.He petitioned the King, but was courteously informed that he must approach the Department concerned.He tried the Secretary of State for India, and had an interview with Abinger Vennard, who was very rude to him, and succeeded in mortally insulting the feudal aristocrat.He appealed to the Prime Minister, and was warned off by a harassed private secretary.
The handful of members of Parliament who make Indian grievances their stock-in-trade fought shy of him, for indeed Ram Singh's case had no sort of platform appeal in it, and his arguments were flagrantly undemocratic.But they sent him to Lord Caerlaverock, for the ex-viceroy loved to be treated as a kind of consul-general for India.But this Protector of the Poor proved a broken reed.He told Ram Singh flatly that he was a belated feudalist, which was true; and implied that he was a land-grabber, which was not true, Ram Singh having only enjoyed the fruits of his fore-bears' enterprise.Deeply incensed, the appellant shook the dust of Caerlaverock House from his feet, and sat down to plan a revenge upon the Government which had wronged him.And in his wrath he thought of the heirloom of his house, the drug which could change men's souls.
It happened that Lord Caerlaverock cook's came from the same neighbourhood as Ram Singh.This cook, Lal Muhammad by name, was one of a large poor family, hangers-on of Ram Singh's house.The aggrieved landowner summoned him, and demanded as of right his humble services.Lal Muhammad, who found his berth to his liking, hesitated, quibbled, but was finally overborne.He suggested a fee for his services, but hastily withdrew when Ram Singh sketched a few of the steps he proposed to take on his return by way of punishing Lal Muhammad's insolence on Lal Muhammad's household.Then he got to business.There was a great dinner next week--so he had learned from Jephson, the butler--and more than one member of the Government would honour Caerlaverock House by his presence.With deference he suggested this as a fitting occasion for the experiment, and Ram Singh was pleased to assent.
I can picture these two holding their meetings in the South Kensington lodgings where Ram Singh dwelt.We know from James, the second footman, that they met also at Caerlaverock House, no doubt that Ram Singh might make certain that his orders were duly obeyed.I can see the little packet of clear grains--I picture them like small granulated sugar--added to the condiments, and soon dissolved out of sight.The deed was done; the cook returned to Bloomsbury and Ram Singh to Gloucester Road, to await with the patient certainty of the East the consummation of a great vengeance.
II
