

E-text prepared by Al Haines



Transcriber's note:

   The name "Lena" appears several times in this book.
   In the original book, the "e" in "Lena" was e-macron.





THE PATH TO HONOUR

by

SYDNEY C. GRIER

Author of
  'The Power of the Keys,' 'A Young Man Married,'
  Etc., Etc.







William Blackwood and Sons
Edinburgh and London
1909


      *      *      *      *      *      *


NOVELS by SYDNEY C. GRIER


Modern East Series.

  The Advanced Guard
  His Excellency's English Governess
  Peace with Honour
  The Warden of the Marches


Balkan Series.

  An Uncrowned King
  A Crowned Queen
  The Kings of the East
  The Prince of Captivity


Indian Historical Series.

  In Furthest Ind
  Like Another Helen
  The Great Proconsul


Balkan Series. II.

  The Heir
  The Heritage


The Power of the Keys


A Young Man Married



Edited by Sydney C. Grier

The Letters of Warren Hastings to his Wife.

      *      *      *      *      *      *



CONTENTS.


CHAP.

     I. "IF IT BE A SIN TO COVET HONOUR----"
    II. HER SIDE OF THE CASE
   III. THE OLD ORDER AND THE NEW
    IV. "A-HUNTING WE WILL GO"
     V. GERRARD FINDS FAVOUR
    VI. THE CROWNING PROOF
   VII. ON GUARD
  VIII. THE SUPERFLUOUS CHARTERIS
    IX. IN SLIPPERY PLACES
     X. THE DOOR IS SHUT
    XI. MURDER MOST FOUL
   XII. THE ONE WHO WAS TAKEN
  XIII. THE ONE WHO WAS LEFT
   XIV. THE IDEAL AND THE REAL
    XV. MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM
   XVI. THE MILD CONCERNS OF ORDINARY LIFE
  XVII. THE ISSUES OF AN AWFUL MOMENT
 XVIII. THE CAMPAIGN OF VENGEANCE
   XIX. AS OTHERS SEE US
    XX. A DAY OF VICTORY
   XXI. FAINT HEART AND FAIR LADY
  XXII. THE TRIUMPH OF THE DEAD
 XXIII. RUN TO EARTH
  XXIV. HONOUR AND HONOURS




THE PATH TO HONOUR.


CHAPTER I.

"IF IT BE A SIN TO COVET HONOUR----"

The time was towards the close of the 'forties of the nineteenth
century, and the place the city of Ranjitgarh, capital of the great
native state of Granthistan, which was not yet a British possession,
but well on the way to becoming one.  This ultimate destiny was
entirely undesired by the powers that were, who had just appointed
Colonel Edmund Antony--a fanatical upholder of native rights, according
to his enemies--as British Resident and protector of the infant prince
occupying the uneasy throne.  The task of regenerating Granthi society
from the top, much against its will, and welding its discordant
elements into a peaceful, prosperous, and contented buffer state (the
thing was known, though not as yet the name) against encroaching
Ethiopia on the north, promised to be no easy one, but Colonel Antony
was undertaking it confidently, with the support of two or three of his
brothers and a picked band of assistants drawn from the army and Civil
Service.  That moral suasion might be duly backed up by physical force,
ten thousand British and Indian troops, under the command of a
Peninsular veteran, General Sir Arthur Cinnamond, were garrisoning the
citadel of Ranjitgarh and holding the lines of Tej Singh in the
suburbs.  The city thus overawed Colonel Antony was wont to call the
wickedest place in Asia, in blissful ignorance of the sins not only of
distant Gamara, but of towns much nearer home.  Its streets were filled
with a swaggering disbanded soldiery that had faced the might of
England and the Company in four pitched battles during the last decade,
shameless women peered from its every lattice, and its defence of
religion took the form of frequent bloodthirsty "cow rows," but he saw
in its wickedness no insuperable bar to the success of his policy.  In
twelve years or so the British would retire, leaving a reformed nation
to govern itself.  Meanwhile, in order to emphasise the transient
nature of the occupation, a Mohammedan tomb served as the English
church, and a single house of moderate size was made to accommodate the
Resident and all his assistants, becoming the scene of as much hard
work and high endeavour as might have sufficed to redeem an empire.

On an inner courtyard of the Residency there looked out a number of
small rooms, each of which was shared by two young men, who had much
ado to bestow themselves and their possessions in the limited space and
the section of verandah that appertained to it.  One room was much like
another, with its camp-beds and table, and its miscellaneous assortment
of camel-trunks and tin cases piled up at the back or serving as seats;
and each verandah was graced by two long chairs, usually to be found in
sociable proximity, with a view to the better enjoyment of the
occupants' brief periods of leisure.  On one particular verandah,
however, the chairs were placed as far apart as space would permit, and
turned away from each other, so that Lieutenant Robert Charteris and
Lieutenant Henry Gerrard, of the Bengal Fusiliers and the Company's
Engineers respectively, might each delude himself into the thought that
he was alone in his glory.  This arrangement was of the newest, but it
was already causing keen delight in the circles which had known the two
young men as inseparable friends.  Born no farther apart than the
Rectory and Hall of a country village, they had learnt together under
Gerrard's father, the Rector, entered Addiscombe together, and passed
out at the same time, Gerrard with an array of medals which secured him
one of the coveted commissions in the Engineers, and Charteris,
undistinguished save by proficiency in games and universal popularity,
slipping contentedly into the Infantry.  Appointed to the same station,
they had seen a certain amount of active service in company, and
continuing to gain the good opinion of those in high places, Gerrard as
a promising scientific soldier and Charteris as a born leader of men,
had both enjoyed the distinction of being selected by Colonel Antony as
his assistants at Ranjitgarh.  But here discord stepped between them in
the fair form of Miss Honour Cinnamond, the youngest daughter of the
General commanding the Division, and after edifying the station for
some time by their ardent rivalry, Charteris and Gerrard were no longer
on speaking terms.  The station regarded it as an excellent joke, but
to Colonel Antony, who took life seriously, it was a scandal and a sin,
to be ended at once and peremptorily.  Knowing his man, he had on this
particular day announced his ultimatum to Gerrard.

"When is this foolishness going to end?" he asked impatiently, after
the two young men had passed each other in his presence without a sign
of recognition--"this breach between you and Charteris, I mean?"

"I don't know, sir.  Perhaps when we get to our districts----"

"I would advise you not to reckon upon that.  I am thinking strongly of
sending Charteris back to his regiment."

"But the disgrace, sir!"  Gerrard was thunder-struck.  "You said
yourself that he was so well fitted for this work.  It suits him too,
and no mistake."

Colonel Antony frowned at the slang.  "Is it possible that you perceive
any good in him?" he asked coldly.

"Why, sir,"--Gerrard was too much perturbed in mind to attempt to
answer the question,--"he could never go back contentedly to ordinary
subaltern's work after this.  He will do something desperate--perhaps
even get transferred to the Bombay side, and volunteer for Khemistan."

He spoke with bated breath, for to the Antony brothers and all their
circle the neighbouring province of Khemistan was a region of outer
darkness, ruled by two fallen angels bearing the names of General Sir
Henry Lennox and Major St George Keeling.  It was a point of honour to
assist their labours by harrying them with a constant dropping fire of
minutes and remonstrances, with an occasional round-shot in the shape
of interference on the part of the Supreme Government, deftly
engineered from Ranjitgarh.  And the pity of it was that the men thus
thwarted with the purest possible motives were carrying on a similar
work, and in the same spirit, as their opponents, but--and here came
the line of cleavage--on different methods.  Colonel Antony's grave
dark face was immovable.

"It is for you to save him if you choose, Gerrard.  What! do you think
that I will allow the work here--the regeneration of the Granthi
state--to be endangered by petty, miserable squabbles between my
assistants?  I have seen too much of support withheld at critical
moments because one man had a grudge against another.  Here we are all
brothers.  If Charteris intends to keep up this enmity, he must go."

"But if he is to blame, sir, so am I," confessed Gerrard reluctantly.

"I am glad to hear you say so.  There can be no difficulty, then, in
your admitting as much to him.  I own I had thought that since you were
more likely to be soon in a position to marry, he was probably the
trespasser on your ground.  The young lady favours him, then?"

"No, sir, neither of us."  Gerrard spoke bitterly, but Colonel Antony
brought his fist down upon the table with a resounding thud.

"What! you stand on the same footing, neither has cause for jealousy of
the other, and yet this miserable alienation continues?  You are indeed
to blame, Gerrard.  Go and ask your comrade's pardon, appeal to the
memories of your youth and his, engage with him to bear this common
disappointment as gentlemen, as Christians!  No man living has more
cause to be grateful for the blessing of a good wife than I, but I
trust I should have been granted sufficient resolution to live solitary
for ever had I perceived that my happiness was likely to mean a
brother's misery, and imperil the hopes of a nation.  You are not
called even to make such a renunciation, since the matter is taken out
of your hands--merely to acquiesce in a decision not your own."

"But if I am to blame, sir, so must Charteris be," protested Gerrard,
feeling, as the Resident's associates not infrequently did, that
Colonel Antony's standard was too high for this wicked world.

"That is quite possible.  He believes that you have injured him?"

"I suppose so, sir."

"And he is conscious that he has injured you?"

