Page:Braddon--The Trail of the Serpent.djvu/223

Rh "The history of your faithful Mujeebez there is a singular one, is it not?" asks the student, rising from his books, and advancing to the window.

"A very singular one. His master, an Englishman, with whom he came from Calcutta, and to whom he was devotedly attached"

"I was indeed, sahib," said the Indian, in very good English, but with a strong foreign accent.

"This master, a rich nabob, was murdered, in the house of his sister, by his own nephew."

"Very horrible, and very unnatural! Was the nephew hung?"

"No. The jury brought in a verdict of insanity: he was sent to a madhouse, where no doubt he still remains confined Mujeebez was not present at the trial; he had escaped by a miracle with his own life; for the murderer, coming into the little room in which he slept, and finding him stirring, gave him a blow on the head, which placed him for some time in a very precarious state."

"And did you see the murderer's face, Mujeebez?" asks Monsieur Blurosset.

"No, sahib. It was dark, I could see nothing. The blow stunned me: when I recovered my senses, I was in the hospital, where I lay for months. The shock had brought on what the doctors called a nervous fever. For a long time I was utterly incapable of work; when I left the hospital I had not a friend in the world; but the good lady, the sister of my poor murdered master, gave me money to return to India, where I was kit-mutghar for some time to an English colonel, in whose household I learned the language, and whom I did not leave till I entered the service of the good Captain."

The "good Captain" laid his hand affectionately on his follower's white-turbaned head, something with the protecting gesture with which he might caress a favourite and faithful dog.

"After you had saved my life, Mujeebez," he said.

"I would have died to save it, sahib," answered the Hindoo. "A kind word sinks deep in the heart of the Indian."

"And there was no doubt of the guilt of this nephew?" asks Blurosset.

"I cannot say, sahib. I did not know the English language then; I could understand nothing told me, except my poor master's nephew was not hung, but put in a madhouse."

"Did you see him—this nephew?"

"Yes, sahib, the night before the murder. He came into the room with my master when he retired to rest. I saw him only for a minute, for I left the room as they entered."