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Chapter II
THE HOUR AT HAND

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In a shaded room of the palace, the Rani had cast herself upon a low divan to obtain a short period of rest. The rugs of intricate patterns, embroidered hangings, curiously carved and inlaid screens, tables, and taborets, gave to the apartment an atmosphere more of richness, than comfort from the Occidental point of view. She watched reflectively the actions of her waiting woman in placing a smoking paraphernalia at her side.

"Strange, how strange," she murmured, "are the ways of these Foreigners. After all the wrongs they have visited upon me, the insults I have suffered at their hands; they boldly come and demand my influence to maintain such iniquities. They expect, forsooth, that if the door of my prison is opened, I will close it again upon myself. Surely they must think I possess less reason than a creature bereft of its senses. I—I cannot understand them."

She turned her head to notice a stout, little man, salaaming profoundly.

"Well, good Bipin," she exclaimed. "What matter of supreme weight and urgency is it now? Hath an evil minded fox crossed thy path on thy way to the temple, or a crow dropped a tail feather with sinister intent upon thy turban"?

"Protector of thy People," replied Bipin, "your Extraordinary Greatness will be pleased to know, that the illustrious Raja, Sivapuri Prasad Singh, an emissary from the Peshwa, awaits your Highness's command to enter."

The Rani rose to her feet instantly, manifesting intense emotion in her voice and actions, as she cried:

"The Peshwa's messenger at last. Go, good Bipin, bring him to me immediately. There is no one I long to see more than this same emissary from the Peshwa."

She had scarcely spoken when Bipin ushered into the room a Hindu noble of gallant mien, whose attire bore traces of hasty travel through jungle by-paths. He strode hurriedly forward and bowing before the Rani, glanced round with suspicion.

The Rani waved her male servitor from the room.

"Speak, noble sir," she urged reassuringly. "The walls are deaf as well as dumb. Ah, Mahadeva! How anxiously we have awaited thy coming."

"Good news, My Lady Rani," he replied, in an undertone. "The torch has been ignited. To-morrow Dundhu Panth proclaims himself Peshwa, and Cawnpore will fall into his hands. Strike now, for if Jhansi is won, other states, that waver, will follow suit. Such is the Peshwa's command."

"Welcome, most welcome, noble Raja," she cried, in a transport of joyful emotion. She extended her hands in greeting. "Welcome to the palace of the no longer unfortunate Rani of Jhansi."

He took the jeweled fingers of one of her hands in his and bowing low placed them to his forehead. Then he drew himself up and gazed with sudden admiration at the superb form, the beautiful features of the high caste Princess.

In a moment he resumed the conversation, still in a tone of caution.

"Are all thy plans complete, fair Lady"?

"Aye, even over complete, I had feared," she answered. "The hidden guns in the fortress have been disinterred, my retainers armed, guards posted on the highways to prevent the escape of the Foreigners, when the signal is given. All people in Jhansi wait impatiently upon my word."

"It is well," he exclaimed, approvingly. "But how about the Mohammedans? Can they be depended upon"?

"Ahmad Khan moves them at the raising of his hand."

"Aye, but of Ahmad Khan. At the raising of whose hand doth he obey without question"?

The Rani slowly raised her hand and held it outstretched before her.

A dart of racial jealousy pierced the Hindu noble's breast.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "It is perhaps well thus, for the moment."

The Rani's arm fell lightly to her side.

"It is well for all time, so long as we are united," she returned, with significant emphasis.

Prasad moved a step nearer and spoke almost in a whisper.

"What of the Foreigners? Do they suspect a rising"?

"They are in doubt, but rely implicitly upon the fidelity of their Native troops."

"Will their Native troops join us"?

"Every man among them."

"Are you certain"?

"As certain as that the wolf will hunt with his kind."

Prasad paused thoughtfully before putting another question.

"If we succeed what is to be done with the Foreigners"?

"Ahmad has my order to secure them as prisoners. We will hold them as hostages or send them out of the state."

Prasad took the Rani's hand in his and pressed it gently. Already he was a slave to her will. Henceforth the form of Lachmi Bai filled his soul with one aim above all others.

"Ah, my Lord," she cried, turning a radiant countenance toward him. "How long hath my heart pined for this hour—the hour when the scepter which was snatched from my grasp shall be placed in my hand; and the law of the Foreigner be no longer obeyed in Jhansi."

"Surely it is thy right, noble Rani," he replied. "When then can the signal be given"?

"Now, to-night, to-morrow, at any time."

"Then make certain that all is ready to-night, and let the signal be given for to-morrow."

The Rani beckoned her waiting woman to her side.

"Go," said she. "Go swiftly, let it be known that to-morrow at noon, the tigress will break down the bars of her cage."

Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D'Arc of India

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