No More Learning

It is an irrelevant detail, but in
spite of Orde's reminders, fourteen months elapsed before the work was
finished. Business over, Bishen Singh hung about, reluctant to take his
leave, and at last joining his hands and approaching Orde with bated
breath and whispering humbleness, said he had a petition to make. Orde's
face suddenly lost all trace of expression. "Speak on, Bishen Singh,"
said he, and the carver in a whining tone explained that his case
against his brothers was fixed for hearing before a native judge
and--here he dropped his voice still lower till he was summarily stopped
by Orde, who sternly pointed to the gate with an emphatic Begone!

Bishen Singh, showing but little sign of discomposure, salaamed
respectfully to the friends and departed.

Pagett looked inquiry; Orde, with complete recovery of his usual
urbanity, replied: "It's nothing, only the old story, he wants his case
to be tried by an English judge--they all do that--but when he began
to hint that the other side were in improper relations with the native
judge I had to shut him up. Gunga Ram, the man he wanted to make
insinuations about, may not be very bright; but he's as honest as
daylight on the bench. But that's just what one can't get a native to
believe. "

"Do you really mean to say these people prefer to have their cases tried
by English judges? "

"Why, certainly. "

Pagett drew a long breath. "I didn't know that before. " At this point a
phaeton entered the compound, and Orde rose with "Confound it, there's
old Rasul Ali Khan come to pay one of his tiresome duty calls. I'm
afraid we shall never get through our little Congress discussion. "

Pagett was an almost silent spectator of the grave formalities of
a visit paid by a punctilious old Mahommedan gentleman to an Indian
official; and was much impressed by the distinction of manner and fine
appearance of the Mohammedan landholder.
When the exchange of polite
banalities came to a pause, he expressed a wish to learn the courtly
visitor's opinion of the National Congress.

Orde reluctantly interpreted, and with a smile which even Mohammedan
politeness could not save from bitter scorn, Rasul Ali Khan intimated
that he knew nothing about it and cared still less. It was a kind of
talk encouraged by the Government for some mysterious purpose of its
own, and for his own part he wondered and held his peace.

Pagett was far from satisfied with this, and wished to have the old
gentleman's opinion on the propriety of managing all Indian affairs on
the basis of an elective system.

Orde did his best to explain, but it was plain the visitor was bored
and bewildered. Frankly, he didn't think much of committees; they had
a Municipal Committee at Lahore and had elected a menial servant, an
orderly, as a member. He had been informed of this on good authority,
and after that, committees had ceased to interest him. But all was
according to the rule of Government, and, please God, it was all for the
best.

"What an old fossil it is! " cried Pagett, as Orde returned from seeing
his guest to the door; "just like some old blue-blooded hidalgo of
Spain. What does he really think of the Congress after all, and of the
elective system? "

"Hates it all like poison. When you are sure of a majority, election
is a fine system; but you can scarcely expect the Mahommedans, the most
masterful and powerful minority in the country, to contemplate their own
extinction with joy. The worst of it is that he and his co-religionists,
who are many, and the landed proprietors, also, of Hindu race, are
frightened and put out by this election business and by the importance
we have bestowed on lawyers, pleaders, writers, and the like, who have,
up to now, been in abject submission to them. They say little, but
after all they are the most important fagots in the great bundle of
communities, and all the glib bunkum in the world would not pay for
their estrangement. They have controlled the land.