Chapter 12
The Straory of Jonathan Small
A very patient man was that ior in the cab, for it was a weary time before I rejoined him. His face clouded over when I showed him the empty box.
“There goes the reward!” said he, gloomily. “Where there is no mohere is no pay. This night’s work would have been worth a tenner ea Brown and me if the treasure had been there.”
“Mr. Thaddeus Sholto is a rich man,” I said. “He will see that you are rewarded, treasure or no.”
The ior s
hook his head despoly, however. “It’s a bad job,” he repeated; “and so Mr. Athelney Jones will think.”
His forecast proved to be correct, for the detective looked blank enough when I got to Baker Street and showed him the empty box. They had only just arrived, Holmes, the prisoner, and he, for they had ged their plans so far as to report themselves at a station upon the way. My panion lounged in his arm-chair with his usual listless expression, while Small sat stolidly opposite to him
with his wooden leg cocked over his sound one. As I exhibited the empty box he leaned ba his chair and laughed aloud.
“This is your doing, Small,” said Athelney Jones, angrily.
“Yes, I have put it away where you shall never lay hand upon it,” he cried, exultantly. “It is my treasure; and if I ’t have the loot I’ll take darned good care that no one else does. I tell you that no living man has any right to it, unless it is three men who are in the Andaman vict-barracks and myself. I know
now that I ot have the use of it, and I know that they ot. I have acted all through for them as much as for myself. It’s been the sign of four with us always. Well I know that they would have had me do just what I have done, and throw the treasure into the Thames rather tha go to kith or kin of Sholto or of Morstan. It was not to make them rich that we did for Achmet. You’ll find the treasure where the key is, and where little Tonga is. When I saw that your launch must catch us,
I put the loot away in a safe place. There are no rupees for you this journey.”
“You are deceiving us, Small,” said Athelney Jones, sternly.“If you had wished to throw the treasure into the Thames it would have been easier for you to have thrown box and all.”
“Easier for me to throw, and easier for you to recover,”he answered, with a shrewd, sidelong look. “The man that was clever enough to hunt me down is clever enough to pi iron box from the bottom of a river. Now that they are scattered o
ver five miles or so, it may be a harder job. It went to my heart to do it, though. I was half mad when you came up with us. However, there’s no good grieving over it. I’ve had ups in my life, and I’ve had downs, but I’ve learned not to cry over spilled milk.”
“This is a very serious matter, Small,” said the detective. “If you had helped justice, instead of thwarting it in this way, you would have had a better ce at your trial.”
“Justice!” she ex-vict. “A pretty justice! Whose loot
is this, if it is not ours? Where is the justice that I should give it up to those who have never ear? Look how I have ear! Twenty long years in that fever-ridden s, all day at work uhe mangrove-tree, all night ed up in the filthy vict-huts, bitten by mosquitoes, racked with ague, bullied by every cursed black-faced poli who loved to take it out of a white man. That was how I earhe Agra treasure; and you talk to me of justice because I ot bear to feel
that I have paid this prily that another may enjoy it! I would rather swing a score of times, or have one of Tonga’s darts in my hide, than live in a vict’s cell ahat another man is at his ease in a palace with the mohat should be mine.”
Small had dropped his mask of stoicism, and all this came out in a wild whirl of words, while his eyes blazed, and the handcuffs ked together with the impassioned movement of his hands. I could uand, as I saw the fury and the passi
on of the man, that it was no groundless or unnatural terror which had possessed Major Sholto when he first learhat the injured vict on his track.
“You fet that we know nothing of all this,” said Holmes quietly. “We have not heard your story, and we ot tell how far justice may inally have been on your side.”
“Well, sir, you have been very fair-spoken to me, though I see that I have you to thank that I have these bracelets upon my wrists. Still, I bear ne for tha
t. It is all fair and aboveboard. If you want to hear my story I have no wish to hold it back. What I say to you is God’s truth, every word of it. Thank you; you put the glass beside me here, and I’ll put my lips to it if I am dry.
“I am a Worcestershire man myself,—born near Pershore. I dare say you would find a heap of Smalls living there now if you were to look. I have often thought of taking a look round there, but the truth is that I was never much of a credit to the family, and I doubt
if they would be slad to see me. They were all steady, chapel-going folk, small farmers, wellknown and respected over the try-side, while I was always a bit of a rover. At last, however, when I was about eighteen, I gave them no more trouble, fot into a mess irl, and could only get out of it again by taking the Queen’s shilling and joining the 3rd Buffs, which was just starting for India.
“I wasn’t destio do much soldiering, however. I had just got past the goose-st
ep, and learo handle my musket, when I was fool enough to go swimming in the Ganges. Luckily for me, my pany sergeant, John Holder, was ier at the same time, and he was one of the fi swimmers in the service. A crocodile took me, just as I was half-way across, and nipped off my right leg as as a surgeon could have do, just above the knee. What with the shod the loss of blood, I fainted, and should have drowned if Holder had not caught hold of me and paddled fo
r the bank. I was five months in hospital over it, and when at last I was able to limp out of it with this timber toe strapped to my stump I found myself invalided out of the army and unfitted for any active occupation.
“I was, as you imagine, pretty down on my luck at this time, for I was a useless cripple though not yet in my tweh year. However, my misfortune soon proved to be a blessing in disguise. A man named Abel White, who had e out there as an indigo-planter, wanted an oversee
r to look after his coolies ahem up to their work. He happeo be a friend of our el’s, who had taken an i in me sihe act. To make a long story short, the el reended me strongly for the post and, as the work was mostly to be done on horseback, my leg was no great obstacle, for I had enough knee left to keep good grip on the saddle. What I had to do was to ride over the plantation, to keep an eye on the men as they worked, and to report the idlers. The p
ay was fair, I had fortable quarters, and altogether I was tent to spend the remainder of my life in indigo-planting. Mr. Abel White was a kind man, and he would often drop into my little shanty and smoke a pipe with me, for white folk out there feel their hearts warm to each other as they never do here at home.
“Well, I was never in luck’s way long. Suddenly, without a note of warning, the great mutiny broke upon us. One month India lay as still and peaceful, to all appearance, as Surrey o
r Kent; the here were two huhousand black devils let loose, and the try erfect hell. Of course you know all about it, gentlemen,—a deal more than I do, very like, since reading is not in my line. I only know what I saw with my own eyes. Our plantation was at a place called Muttra, he border of the Northwest Provinces. Night after night the whole sky was alight with the burning bungalows, and day after day we had small panies of Europeans passing through our estat
e with their wives and children, on their way to Agra, where were the roops. Mr. Abel White was an obstinate man. He had it in his head that the affair had been exaggerated, and that it would blow over as suddenly as it had sprung up. There he sat on his veranda, drinking whiskey-pegs and smoking cheroots, while the try was in a blaze about him. Of course we stuck by him, I and Dawson, who, with his wife, used to do the bookwork and the managing. Well, one fine day the crash came. I
had been away on a distant plantation, and was riding slowly home in the evening, when my eye fell upon something all huddled together at the bottom of a steep nullah. I rode down to see what it was, and the cold struck through my heart when I found it was Dawson’s wife, all cut into ribbons, and half eaten by jackals and native dogs. A little further up the road Dawson himself was lying on his face, quite dead, with ay revolver in his hand and four Sepoys lying across each other in front
of him. I reined up my horse, w which way I should turn, but at that moment I saw thick smoke curling up from Abel White’s bungalow and the flames beginning to burst through the roof. I khen that I could do my employer no good, but would only throw my own life away if I meddled iter. From where I stood I could see hundreds of the black fiends, with their red coats still on their backs, dang and howling round the burning house. Some of them poi me, and a couple of
bullets sang past my head; so I broke away across the paddy-fields, and found myself late at night safe within the walls at Agra.
“As it proved, however, there was no great safety there, either. The whole try like a swarm of bees. Wherever the English could colle little bands they held just the ground that their guns anded. Everywhere else they were helpless fugitives. It was a fight of the millions against the hundreds; and the cruellest part of it was that these men that we
fought against, foot, horse, and gunners, were our own picked troops, whom we had taught and trained, handling our own ons, and blowing our own bugle-calls. At Agra there were the 3rd Bengal Fusiliers, some Sikhs, two troops of horse, and a battery of artillery. A volunteer corps of clerks and merts had been formed, and this I joined, wooden leg and all. We went out to meet the rebels at Shahgunge early in July, and we beat them back for a time, but our pave out, and we had to fa
ll back upoy.
“Nothing but the worst news came to us from every side,—which is not to be wo, for if you look at the map you will see that we were right in the heart of it. Luow is rather better than a hundred miles to the east, and pore about as far to the south. From every point on the pass there was nothing but torture and murder and e.
“The city of Agra is a great place, swarming with fanatid fierce devil-worshippers of all sorts. Our handful of men were l
ost among the narrow, winding streets. Our leader moved across the river, therefore, and took up his position in the old fort at Agra. I don’t know if any of you gentlemen have ever read or heard anything of that old fort. It is a very queer place,—the queerest that ever I was in, and I have been in some rum ers, too. First of all, it is enormous in size. I should think that the enclosure must be acres and acres. There is a modern part, which took all arrison, women, children, stores, a
nd everything else, with plenty of room over. But the modern part is nothing like the size of the old quarter, where nobody goes, and which is giveo the scorpions and the tipedes. It is all full of great deserted halls, and winding passages, and long corridors twisting in and out, so that it is easy enough for folk to get lost in it. For this reason it was seldom that any o into it, though now and again a party with torches might go expl.
“The river washes along the front o
f the old fort, and so protects it, but on the sides and behind there are many doors, and these had to be guarded, of course, in the old quarter as well as in that which was actually held by our troops. We were short-handed, with hardly men enough to man the angles of the building and to serve the guns. It was impossible for us, therefore, to station a strong guard at every one of the innumerable gates. What we did was tanise a tral guardhouse in the middle of the fort, and to leave each
gate uhe charge of one white man and two or three natives. I was selected to take charge duriain hours of the night of a small isolated door upon the southwest side of the building. Two Sikh troopers were placed under my and, and I was instructed if anythi wrong to fire my musket, when I might rely upon help ing at once from the tral guard. As the guard was a good two hundred paces away, however, and as the space between was cut up into a labyrinth of passages and
corridors, I had great doubts as to whether they could arrive in time to be of any use in case of an actual attack.
“Well, I retty proud at having this small and given me, since I was a raw recruit, and a game-legged o that. For two nights I kept the watch with my Punjaubees. They were tall, fierce-looking chaps, Mahomet Singh and Abdullah Khan by name, both old fighting-men who had borne arms against us at Chilian-wallah. They could talk English pretty well, but I could get little
out of them. They preferred to stand together and jabber all night in their queer Sikh lingo. For myself, I used to stand outside the gateway, looking down on the broad, winding river and owinkling lights of the great city. The beating of drums, the rattle of tomtoms, and the yells and howls of the rebels, drunk with opium and with bang, were enough to remind us all night of our dangerous neighbours across the stream. Every two hours the officer of the night used to e round to all the
posts, to make sure that all was well.
“The third night of my watch was dark and dirty, with a small, driving rain. It was dreary work standing ieway hour after hour in such weather. I tried again and again to make my Sikhs talk, but without much success. At two in the m the rounds passed, and broke for a moment the weariness of the night. Finding that my panions would not be led into versation, I took out my pipe, and laid down my musket to strike the match. In an instant th
e two Sikhs were upon me. One of them snatched my firelock up and levelled it at my head, while the other held a great ko my throat and swore between his teeth that he would plu into me if I moved a step.
“My first thought was that these fellows were in league with the rebels, and that this was the beginning of an assault. If our door were in the hands of the Sepoys the place must fall, and the women and childrereated as they were in pore. Maybe you gentlemen think that I am
just making out a case for myself, but I give you my word that when I thought of that, though I felt the point of the k my throat, I opened my mouth with the iion of giving a scream, if it was my last one, which might alarm the main guard. The man who held me seemed to know my thoughts; for, even as I braced myself to it, he whispered, ‘Don’t make a he fort is safe enough. There are no rebel dogs on this side of the river.’ There was the ring of truth in what he said, and I
khat if I raised my voice I was a dead man. I could read it in the fellow’s brown eyes. I waited, therefore, in sileo see what it was that they wanted from me.
“‘Listen to me, Sahib,’ said the taller and fiercer of the pair,
the one whom they called Abdullah Khan. ‘You must either be with us now or you must be silenced forever. The thing is too great a one for us to hesitate. Either you are heart and soul with us on your oath on the cross of the Christians, or your body this night shall
be thrown into the ditd we shall pass over to our brothers in the rebel army. There is no middle way. Which is it to be, death or life? We only give you three mio decide, for the time is passing, and all must be done before the rounds e again.’
“‘How I decide?’ said I. ‘You have not told me what you want of me.
But I tell you now that if it is anything against the safety of the fort I will have no truck with it, so you drive home your knife and wele.’
“‘It is nothing
against the fort,’ said he. ‘We only ask you to do that which your trymen e to this land for. We ask you to be rich. If you will be one of us this night, we will swear to you upon the naked knife, and by the threefold oath whio Sikh was ever known to break, that you shall have your fair share of the loot. A quarter of the treasure shall be yours. We say no fairer.’
“‘But what is the treasure, then?’ I asked. ‘I am as ready to be rich as you be, if you will but show me how it ca
n be done.’
“‘You will swear, then,’ said he, ‘by the bones of your father, by the honour of your mother, by the cross of your faith, to raise no hand and speak nainst us, either now or afterwards?’
“‘I will swear it,’ I answered, ‘provided that the fort is not endangered.’
“‘Then my rade and I will swear that you shall have a quarter of the treasure which shall be equally divided among the four of us.’
“‘There are but three,’ said I.
“‘No; Dost Akbar must have his share. We tell the
tale to you while we await them. Do you stand at the gate, Mahomet Singh, and give notice of their ing. The thing stands thus, Sahib, and I tell it to you because I know that an oath is binding upon a Feringhee, and that we may trust you. Had you been a lying Hindoo, though you had sworn by all the gods in their false temples, your blood would have been upon the knife, and your body ier. But the Sikh knows the Englishman, and the Englishman knows the Sikh. Hearken, then, to what I ha