"Take up your turban, good fellow," said the kotwal, "and do not be angry; you are no child to be quarrelling with decent people. Have you never travelled before, that you should be angry and throw dust on our beards in this manner? In God's name, take up your turban; and do some one of you go and see that the good man gets a place for himself."
The man looked irresolute for an instant, then took up the turban, and walked sulkily out, accompanied by the person desired to attend him. Bhudrinath gave me a sign, and we took our leave. We had scarcely got out, when he said, "That man is ours; now see how I will manage him. I dare say he has but few persons with him, and he will be easily disposed of."
We kept our eye on him and his attendant, and watched him take possession of a shed of wretched appearance, with many symptoms of dissatisfaction. We loitered purposely, till we saw that he was alone, and then went up to him.
"Ram! Ram! Séthjee," said Bhudrinath, addressing him; "what a place is this they have put you into after all, not fit for hogs to lie in! That rascally kotwal, for all his smooth tongue, is an arrant knave, I warrant; and I have heard," continued he, lowering his voice, "that he has in his employ a number of thieves, whose business it is to cut away travellers' saddle-bags from under their heads at night, and when the poor man goes to complain in the morning, he is beaten out of the village. Did we not hear so, Jemadar Sahib?"
"Yes, indeed," said I; "don't you remember the man who met us at the village some coss from this, and warned us of the thieves of Oomerkhér, and said he had been robbed of everything he possessed, and then driven out with scarcely a rag to cover him? It was then that I determined to encamp outside, where we might have our own sentinels, and where, if we were robbed, it would be our own fault."
"God help me! I am a lost man!" cried the merchant; "I know not what to do;" and he beat his head with his clenched hand. "In those bags is all I am worth in the world; I fled from Surat to save myself from oppression, and it appears that the further I fly the worse usage I meet. It was only two nights ago—after watching till my eyes nearly started from my head from want of sleep, and, not being able to sit longer, I lay down and my eyes closed—that an attempt was made to cut my bags from under me; and, as I awoke, the thieves snatched away two of my cooking utensils and the cloth I had about me. What could I do? Had I run after them, some fellow would have been off with my bags; so I sat still, and screamed for help. The villagers were soon assembled about me, and when I told them what had happened, a villain, who called himself the patel, abused me for defaming his village; and I was actually thrust without the gates, and left to pursue my way in the dark, inmomentary dread that I should be pursued, and perhaps robbed and murdered. Oh, my unhappy fate!" cried he; "what will it not lead me to! Fool that I was to leave my own country, to become the sport of unblessed brutes, such as I have met in this wild country."
"Well," said Bhudrinath in a compassionate tone, "you have been used very ill, and you ought to go and complain to the Hakim here; report says he is a just man, although those under him may be thieves and rascals."
"No, no, no!" cried the man; "go and complain! and be fleeced of my last rupee! The great man would require a nuzzur, and every dependent would ask for one; did I dare to refuse, my situation would be worse than it is now. No, no! I have not been robbed as yet, and please God, if I could only get out of this town, I would attach myself to some party of respectable persons going the same road."
Bhudrinath turned to me, and took me a few paces aside. "The bait has taken," said he; "our net is now around him; you must draw it tightly."
"How?"——"By inviting him to our encampment; I will propose it, and you shall pretend to disagree at first, and then, after some persuasion, consent. Do you understand?"
"I do," and we turned back.
Bhudrinath again addressed him, while I turned away. "Séthjee," said he, "you are a man in misfortune, and if we don't help you out of this place you will assuredly be robbed of everything you possess. You must come and put up in our encampment; that is to say, if the Jemadar Sahib will permit it: but the truth is, we are very careful, and allow no one to approach it, as we are escorting a merchant from Benares to Hyderabad, who has a large amount of goods with him."
"For God's sake! for the sake of your father and mother!" cried the poor wretch, "for the sake of your children, intercede for me! do not suffer me to be robbed and murdered here. Ai! Jemadar Sahib," he said to me, catching me by my dress, "you are my father and my mother; a word from you, and I am safe, and my poor merchandize will reach its destination. God knows, if anything happens to me on the road, my house will be made desolate, my employers will seize my wife and children. Jemadar, you can protect me from this; you can save my life from these fears, which make me most wretched, and are consuming my soul!"
"Thooh! good man," cried I, spitting on the ground, "do not be so abject. Inshalla! I am able by God's favour to afford protection to one who is a prince among merchants, and you are too poor to think of. In His name follow us, and we will take care of you; we are going to Hyderabad ourselves, and you can remain among the servants; do you, Peer Khan, bring this man out to us."
Peer Khan remained, and we returned to our camp. On the way we determined that he should die before evening, or when it should become dusk, and we would then go into the town and visit the evening durbar of the Hakim. In a short time we beheld the merchant, and Peer Khan, with another man, driving two ponies apparently heavily laden towards our camp.
"Come, this is more than I hoped for," said my father, "there are two of them; and two ponies well laden must afford something worth taking: we cannot expect this to be as profitable work as the last, but much may come out of it."
The men approached, and the merchant was presented to my father. "To your kindness," he said to me, "I owe all I possess, and if these poor bags might but be allowed to remain along with the rest of the merchandize you are protecting, it would increase the favour and they would be safe."
"Surely," I replied, "you can unload your beasts; and there is the pile of goods, you can put your bags on the top of it."
It was curious to see the behaviour of the men of the band; they appeared to have an instinctive knowledge of the purpose for which the men had been brought into the encampment. They did not evince the smallest savageness of demeanour, as perhaps might have been expected; on the contrary, every one was most civil and attentive to the strangers; one offered to rub down the ponies, another to make a place for cooking, a third to bring grass from the town, or anything they might require for their meal. In a short time weobserved the appearance of care and anxiety on the face of the merchant to give place to a cheerful expression, and long before evening both the men were among a knot of the Thugs, listening to their stories, and themselves relating their adventures. Little did they think what preparations were making, and that in a few short hours they would cease to be counted with the living.
Meanwhile a consultation was held as usual at my father's tent, and the different parts were assigned to us. The office of Bhuttote fell to me, and the merchant was delivered to my hands. I now experienced none of the hesitation which had formerly troubled my mind; I only longed for objects to exercise myself on, to perfect my hand in the peculiar knack it required. I had before me the example of those I most looked up to, and to equal or excel them was my sole ambition. I was determined to excel, and the excitement of the whole system proved a powerful stimulus. In this matter too I had acted a prominent part as a Sotha; and I began to pride myself on my ingenuity in seconding, as I had done, one so completely an adept as Bhudrinath.
We agreed to put the men to death immediately after evening prayer. We had in our camp a boy about twelve years old, the son of one of the Thugs, who sang very beautifully, and his father used to accompany him on the saringee. It was our custom of an evening after prayers to send for the youth and be entertained by his songs; and he sang so well, that he often collected a considerable sum from among us. On this occasion he was called, and when he had begun, a message was sent to the merchant to come and partake of our entertainment. He came, and his servant also; the latter was a fine stout man, whiskered and mustachioed and from the dialect he spoke, I concluded him to be a Rajpoot of Meywar, whose inhabitants are a noble race and brave to a degree. I eyed him, as he sat down in his place, with a half-formed determination to change the merchant for him. Bhudrinath had been allotted to him; and as I reflected on my own powers and his, I felt assured that if he was thought equal to it, I was superior to him, though I might not be considered so. Another thought, and my determination was made; I proposed the exchange to Bhudrinath.
"As you please," said he, in a whisper, "but yonder is a tough fellow; these Meywaree Rajpoots are active as panthers, and to tell you the truth I did not half like the idea of being allotted to him; but there is no help for it, and if I were to fail there are twenty others who would finish him. But do you think yourself equal to him?"
"Yes, I do not fear him; I have, besides, a reputation to win, and do not care running a little risk."
"As you will," he replied; "but you must mention it to your father."
I did so. The merchant was too much absorbed in the boy's song to attend to us, and the servant was in ecstasies, as it was one of his own country. "Are you able to do it? do not try else," said my father; "the man is armed, and has a dagger at his girdle; a sword I do not fear, but daggers are awkward things, and you might be wounded."
"And suppose I was," I replied, "do you think the fear of that deters me? No, no! I have taken this on myself, and I will, with your permission, go through with it."
"As you like, my son, I will not oppose you; you have a name to gain, and you do well to run some risk: I will observe you narrowly, and be ready to succour you should you require it."
The usual phrase, "Pan lao" (bring Pan), was to be the signal; and as we changed places, myself and Bhudrinath, I fancied the servant eyed us with some suspicion; I thought I saw him loosen the dagger in his girdle; perhaps it was fancy, and yet he must have thought there was danger. He stood up and looked round at us: and as I contemplated his brawny form, naked from the waist, his chest covered with hair, and his muscular arms, I thought for an instant I had overrated my strength; but to recede would have been cowardly.The only plan was to attack him standing; I moved towards him, and cast a keen look on my father, by which I intended that he should give the signal as soon as I had taken my post; he understood me. I had gained my place, the man had just turned round to look at me and to get out of my way, and I was just telling him not to move, as I was passing on, when the signal was given.
Was it that I was a moment late, or that he had caught a glimpse of the fate of his master—or that in reality he suspected that all was not right, that he was in danger? I know not; but as I threw the cloth around his neck, he drew his dagger: to have loosed my hold would have been followed by instant death, he would have plunged it into me; and he struggled so much, that, in spite of my great strength, he almost succeeded in getting his other hand between his neck and the cloth. All this happened in less time than I take to say it. My danger was imminent, but as fortune would have it a Thug attempted to seize the hand which held the dagger; this diverted his attention from me for an instant: although half choked, he made an immense effort, which nearly shook me off, and reached the unfortunate man—he plunged the weapon into his heart! The man uttered a loud groan and fell, and the blood spouted forth over us both; but the action had given me a fresh hold, I was able to use my knuckles, and who could live under the strength I put forth? The Rajpoot's dying struggles were tremendous, but I would not quit my hold; my father rushed to me.
"Where is the cord?" he cried; "he will not die in this manner; where is the cord? pass it about his neck, and let two of you pull."
"No, no!" I exclaimed, "he is nearly finished; let me alone, this work is my own, no one shall interfere." Fortunately, having thrown the man on his face, I was able to kneel on his back, and he was soon past the ability to use his dagger. At last there was one convulsion stronger than the previous ones, and he lay still—he was also dead—my second victim! I arose, breathless and exhausted; and as I looked on the prostrate corpse before me, I felt indeed that there had been danger—that I had escaped from a deadly struggle, and that my art had triumphed over strength. Almost beside the body lay that of the man who had aided me, who had received a desperate wound. All had been so occupied with me, that they had overlooked the poor sufferer; he was lying with his face to the ground groaning.
"For God's sake," said I, "turn him round, the wound is in his stomach: can nothing be done for him?"
Some of the men accordingly turned him, but it was plain to see that there was no hope of life; the blood poured in a stream both from the wound and from his mouth; he made several attempts to speak, but in vain; he died almost instantly. While I was engaged in the struggle, I several times fancied that the Rajpoot's dagger had reached me, as I endeavoured to avoid it by screwing my body as far away from him as possible; but the excitement was too great for me to feel the wound, if there was any. Yet now on putting my hand to my side, I found, by the blood on my garment, that I was wounded; the blood too was observed by my father.
"Protection of God! he is wounded!" he cried. "My son, my son, did I not warn thee? Did I not bid thee beware of that Rajpoot? Thou wast no match for him, my son; and now thou art wounded, and what can be done?" and my father sat down, fairly overpowered with his emotions. I felt that the wounds were but scratches, and hastened to open my vest. "There," said I, showing the wounds, "I said he would do me no harm; and what are these? A thorn from a hedge would have caused a deeper and more painful one."
"Shookur Khoda!" exclaimed my father; "you are not hurt after all" (and the old man's eyes fairly ran over with tears as he looked at the wounds); "but I had feared the worst after that horrid sight. Ai, Mahomed! thou wast a faithful servant."
The bodies of the merchant and the Rajpoot were instantly stripped, and removed to the grave which had long before been prepared for them; it was made inside a small tent, where my father, myself, and some others slept, and where it was secure from observation. I never was more struck with the despatch and ingenuity of the Lughaes than on this occasion. I had but delayed to have my slight wounds dressed, and to bathe and cleanse myself from the blood I wascovered with, when I went to see the grave, thinking to find it still open. I was perfectly astonished—there was no sign of the earth having been disturbed; the place where the hole had been dug had been carefully beaten down, plastered over with mud; and, but that it was wet, no one could have told that it had been touched by the hand of man. My father's sleeping carpet and mine were then laid over the place.
"Now," said I to Bhudrinath, "let us put on our best clothes and visit the Hakim. Will you come too, my father?"
"No, Béta (no, my son), I have enough to do to keep all quiet here: some one must remain; and you and Bhudrinath have deserved your amusement, so go and take it. And here," cried he to some of the Thugs, "take your shields and swords, and accompany my son; and see that you look like soldiers, and not like Thugs, for the night."
Six or eight were soon ready, dressed in clean clothes and armed; and by this time, the moon having risen, and it being the hour appointed by the Kotwal for the evening durbar, we set off to the town. Truly, dressed as we were in the handsomest clothes we could select, we looked not only soldiers but handsome fellows. Each of us had given a knowing cock to his turban; and mine, of the richest gold tissue, passing several times under my chin, set off my face, by giving me a particularly martial appearance. My arms were of the richest description; a sword with a hilt inlaid with gold, its scabbard covered with crimson velvet, with a ferrule to it of silver, of an open pattern, which covered nearly half of it. In my girdle, which was a Cashmere shawl, were a pesh-kubs or knife, with an agate handle, inlaid also with gold, and a small jumbea or Arab dagger, also highly ornamented with gold and silver. I carried too a shield of rhinoceros hide, the manufacture of Sylhet, and painted and gilt in the beautiful manner of Hindostan, the bosses being of silver, richly chased and ornamented. My dress was of the finest muslin, which showed my shape through it to the greatest advantage; and rich cloth of gold trowsers completed a dress at once elegant, and calculated not only to impress an observer with my correct taste, but to convince him that I was a person, if not of rank, of respectability.
Bhundrinath's and Peer Khan's appearance was something less showy than mine; but they looked good and true men, and fair seconds to one of my pretensions. So we set off to the town, and passing the gate went to the Kotwal's chouree, where we hoped to meet with him, or with some one who would direct us to the durbar. As it happened, the Kotwal was there; and, relinquishing his employment of caring for travellers, he accompanied us to introduce us. We walked through some of the streets, picking our way through tethered cattle and all the abominations of a Mahratta town, and at last reached a respectable-looking gateway, around which a number of soldiers were standing and lounging. Our friend the Kotwal passed us through them; and after traversing two open courts, we reached the place where the entertainment and assembly was going on. A fine-looking old man questioned us as to who we were, to which the Kotwal replied for us, that we were respectable persons desirous of paying our respects to the Nuwab Sahib; to which I added, that, having heard much of his great name and hospitality, we considered that it would be unpolite to pass through his town without paying our compliments to him, and becoming acquainted with so estimable a person.
"You are welcome," said the old man; "there is nothing pleases the Nuwab Sahib so much as to see strangers, wherever they may come from; and, Inshalla! you will have no cause to regret having taken this trouble."
"On the contrary," I replied, "we cannot think it trouble, but an honour seldom allowed to such poor persons as we are. But pray lead us to the presence."
We ascended a few steps into the hall, where sat the Nuwab, surrounded by a number of persons. Before him were a group of dancing-women, displaying their charms, and entrancing their hearers with songs of Persia and of Hindostan. Our conductor bade us wait for a moment; and going up to the Nuwab, said a few words to him, intimating our arrival.
"Khamoosh" (silence)! cried the Nuwab, and it was repeated by a dozen voices; "let the strangers be admitted."
We were ushered on, leaving our shoes at the edge of the pure white cloth which was spread over the part of the room which led to the Nuwab's musnud. On seeing us he made a polite salutation; and I stepped forward, and enveloping the hilt of my sword in an embroidered scarf I had thrown loosely about my shoulders, I presented it as a nuzzur.
"Kubool hooa," said the old gentleman, placing his hands upon it; "it is accepted; sit down near us. Inshalla! we are much pleased with your appearance, and bid you heartily welcome to this our poor durbar."
To be polite I resisted this civility, protesting that I was by far too humble an individual to allow myself so much honour; but he was not to be denied, and accordingly I seated myself in the most respectful attitude, with my heels under me; and placing my sword and shield before me in the best manner to display their beauty, I turned to the Nuwab, who seemed to be contemplating my appearance.
"Mashalla!" said he to me, "thou art a brave-looking young fellow: now tell me who thou art, and who these respectable persons are that accompany you."
"I beg to represent in your service," I replied, "that I am nothing but a poor soldier, a Syud by birth; I have a few men with me, for whom and myself I am going to Hyderabad to seek service. I am come from Hindostan: my father, who is at our camp, is a merchant going to the city with merchandise. These persons," I continued, pointing to Bhudrinath and Peer Khan, "are two of my associates; and being superior to the rest, I have ventured to bring them to present their nuzzurs to the presence."
"By all means, Meer Sahib; we delight to see good and stout-looking fellows. Any one such is a pearl in the eye of an old soldier like myself. Let them be brought forward," said he to an attendant; and both advancing made the requisite salutations, and presented the hilts of their swords as I had done. The ceremonies of introduction being concluded, the musicians and dancing-women were desired to recommence, and I had a moment's leisure to survey the apartment and the scene before me.
The apartment opened, through three large wooden arches, into the court-yard which we had crossed; and between them were hung large purdahs or curtains of English scarlet cloth, which could be let down as occasion required. The room was lofty, and behind where we sat the walls were ornamented with stucco-work in rich designs. Above, on one side, was a small gallery thickly screened, from whence the inmates of the zenana could observe all that was passing below without being seen. Before us the dancing-girls were moving with their peculiar floating motion, and singing, while they expressed the amorous words of their song by their gestures. Another set were sitting down by their side, waiting for their turn to be called, and both were splendidly dressed and covered with jewels. Nuwab Hoosein Yar Jung Buhadoor, a fine-looking wiry old soldier, polite and courtly in his manner, was a good specimen of the noblemen of the Dukhun; though perhaps not so effeminately polished as those of Delhi, yet he was one whose appearance commanded respect; and his bright keen eye, and the seam of a wound on his right cheek, showed that he had seen battle-fields and was familiar with war. His dress was of plain Dacca muslin; but a string of large pearls round his neck, which he used as a rosary, and the beautiful sword lying before him on the carpet, would prove to the most casual observer that he was a man of rank and consequence. He observed me looking round, and addressed me thus,—
"We are in a poor place here, young man; but what can be done? the duty of the government must be performed, and we cannot carry our house about with us. However, we have made the place as decent as it could be, considering we are in the jungle; and, by the favour of the prophet, we have brought bright eyes and sweet voices with us, and we do not lack amusement. Say, what thinkest thou of our selection? Yonder is Zora, sitting down, second to few in Hyderabad either for beauty of person or sweetness of voice: the other, now singing, is one we picked up on the way hither; but, Inshalla! in a short time she will be fit company for the other, and we shall take her down to the city with us, to astonish our acquaintances."
The dancing-girl Zora, hearing her name mentioned, turned round andlooked towards me. I was instantly dazzled by her beauty. She was not so fair as some of her profession I had before seen; but if she was not so fair, her features were small and regular; and her large antelope-like eyes, when turned full on me, seemed to pierce me through. It was not a quick glance, but one that was fixed slowly upon me, and was not withdrawn. I was then young and modest, and I was fairly abashed. She observed it, and turned round and smiled to one of her companions.
"Come," said the Nuwab smiling, "you are not to steal the hearts of my Tuwaifs. You are a dangerous-looking fellow; and that handsome face of yours will do much mischief, if I mistake not. Tell me the news from Hindostan; report speaks of war in that quarter, and that the Mahrattas and Pindarees are arming."
"Why," I replied, "there are such reports. We heard that there was service to be got either with Sindea or Holkar, and that they and the Feringhees would soon be at war; but we preferred trying our fortune in the Dukhun; for we heard the pay offered by both was very small to soldiers armed as we are, as they place their principal dependence on the troops under the Francese generals, by whom alone the Ungrez Feringhees are to be opposed."
"Ay," said the old Nuwab, "the times of fair fighting are passing away, and the inventions of Europeans are fast supplanting the bravery of the men of Hind. God knows where it will end! Even at Hyderabad the Feringhees have got such a hold of the place, that God knows whether they will ever be driven out. And they train the miserable Kafirs of Telingana to fight in ranks and perform evolutions which are truly wonderful; but the power of Alla is great, and they are in favour with him."
"One comfort, however," said I, "is that the Francese and Ungrez are at bitter enmity; and if there is a fight, one or other, by the blessing of God, must be beaten. Then will be the time for true believers to rouse themselves, and free their country from the yoke of both."
"You talk like a young, hot-blooded boy: this cannot be. We of Hyderabad are too much beholden to the Ungrez Feringhees for freeing us from the demands of the Mahrattas, and the oppression of Hyder Ali and Tippoo, to quarrel with them; and after all I question whether we could do much against them. Tippoo fell, and he had the advice of the Francese in building his fort. God protect me! it was only a mud wall before the Ungrez."
"You saw it then?" I inquired.
"Yes, indeed," said he, kindling, "I saw the whole; and if you had also, you would have wondered to see the soger battalions scramble up the breach like cats, headed by their officers, in the face of a fire of guns and matchlocks which would have scattered the peoplewecall Sipahees like chaff. Truly they are something like men; and if we of India had fought like them, would they have possessed one foot of ground? Inshalla! they would not; but it is no use regretting. And now Sikundur Jah has made a treaty with the Ungrez, and sits in his zenana like a eunuch, leaving them to take care of him and his country."
"Then you think," said I, "that I have no chance of service at the city?"
"By no means," said he; "you are, I think, pretty sure of it. There are plenty of openings for a fine fellow like you, and your appearance will take with some of those who command troops. Inshalla! you might have had it here, but my list is full; and you are not likely to separate from your men?"
"No," said I, "that I could not; the poor fellows would starve in a strange land; and having collected them, I must perform my promise of taking them down to the city."
"Now you must see my pride, Zora, dance," said the Nuwab. "Inshalla! your heart must be hard if she does not make it ache, as she has done that of many a one."
The group, who had hitherto been singing, were desired to be seated, and Zora prepared to stand up. The bells for her ankles were brought, and she tied them on. The musicians to accompany her tuned their instruments, and after a short prelude she stood up. If I had been struck with her appearance sitting, how much more splendid was it now! She was not tall, but exquisitely formed, as far as could be judged from her peculiar dress, which was so loosefrom under her arms as completely to hide her form to her ankles; but it was of the richest description. It was made of a dark lilac-coloured gauze, in bands alternately with gold tissue; the bottom trimmed with gold tissue very broad, as far as her knees, upon which there was rich embroidery in gold thread and seed pearls. Around her she had thrown with extreme grace a scarf of the lightest muslin and silver, of the same colour as her dress; so thin was it, that as she moved, it seemed almost to float away from her in the air caused by her motion. The colour of the scarf round her head, in contrast with her complexion, made it appear much fairer than it really was, and her large soft eyes still more brilliant and swimming.
The musicians began their usual prelude, and with it one of Zora's companions, a pretty girl, the slow movements of the dance. After a few turns she resumed her place, and Zora herself, like the full moon emerging from a cloud, sailed towards us with a slow and graceful motion. How shall I describe to you, Sahib, her exquisite movements! Every turn displayed her form to greater advantage, and I gazed till my soul was fairly entranced. But how much more was I affected when she began to sing! Having performed the dance, both the slow and quick, she ceased; and after a prelude by one of the musicians behind her, she broke out into an impassioned Ghuzul. It was one I was very fond of myself. I listened till I could have fallen at her feet, and worshipped her as a Peri from heaven. My soul was so intoxicated with the blessed sounds I heard, that I was insensible to all around me. She at length ceased; and the Nuwab, who had been observing me attentively, asked me what I thought of the songstress and her dancing.
"Most wonderful is it," I replied; "my liver has become water before her fascinations. It is fortunate for me that I am not to live within their influence, or I were lost for ever. I could forego fame and my profession to lie at her feet and dream away my existence."
"You talk like a foolish boy," said the Nuwab, "and must not give way to such fancies; many a man has been ruined for ever by them. Persons like her are greedy and insatiable of money, as we are told of the sea, which swallows up everything that is cast into it, without showing a sign on its surface beyond that of the transient ripple."
"Cannot they love?" I asked; "are they so utterly mercenary?"
"Utterly. Alas! young man, I have known and felt it—but let us change the entertainment. I have some rare Bhyroopeas with me, who arrived from Hindostan the other day. I have but heard them once, and my sides ached with laughter. You, no doubt, are well acquainted with their style; yet it is somewhat new to me—they shall be produced."
"May your condescension increase, Nuwab," said I; "truly your favour is great on your poor servant, and of which he is utterly unworthy. Nevertheless, he will not fail to make known the fair name and hospitality of Hoosein Yar Jung Buhadoor, wherever his fate may lead him, which is the only return he can make for it."
"You will prosper, I hope," he replied; "young fellows of your appearance rarely fail to make friends. But here come the Bhyroopeas; let us see what new amusement they have prepared for us; something to laugh at, I doubt not."
They were three in number; and twisting their faces into comical expressions, so as to cause the whole assembly to burst into a simultaneous fit of laughter, one of them stepped forward and said, that in the country whence he came there was once a Nuwab, a very wise man, who governed his country as no one had done before, and was a lord victorious in war; and that, if the Hoozoor pleased, his slaves were prepared to relate some of his adventures.
"Go on," said the Nuwab, "we are attending; see that there is nothing indecent, for you are in the presence of the Khanum."
"Asteferalla!" (God forbid!) cried all, making their salutation towards the screen; "may the favour of the Khanum be upon us, and may Alla give her a long life and posterity to bless her. Inshalla! we shall find favour in her sight, and take away our garments filled with gold."
They commenced: one of the men, dressed ridiculously as a child, personated the Nuwab. The story begins with his youth, how he is petted in the zenana; and the two others changing their dresses to those of females, one is his mother,the other his nurse. The young Nuwab is pampered, spoiled, becomes unruly, is declared to be possessed by the Shitan; a Moola is called in, and charms and wonderful potions, prepared by the aid of magic, are administered. The great child screams and roars, kicks his mother and nurse out of the assembly, upsets all about him; and the confusion and noise created by all this, especially among the Tuwaifs, made a scene of fun at which we all laughed heartily. In an incredibly short time the men again made their appearance, and the second act began. The child had grown up to be a youth, and to be fiery and uncontrollable. Women, wine, horses, and arms are his enjoyments; reckless of everything, he plunges into dissipation, sets his parents at defiance, runs into debt, is surrounded by sharpers and parasites, who despoil him of all he possesses; and he had given himself up to harlots and debauchery; and this ends the second part. His father dies—he is now Nuwab; he is the head of a proud house, has men and soldiers at his command, and his territory to manage. He forthwith kicks out his former companions, discards every one he had formerly had near him, good and bad together, gives himself up to a new set of rogues who had preyed upon his father—men with hoary beards, only the greater adepts in villany. He has a quarrel with a neighbouring noble, and the two prepare for war.
The troops are described—how they eat mountains and drink rivers; and the Nuwab himself as going forth like a bridegroom to meet his bride, like the lightning from the thunder-cloud, or river over-running its bounds—terrible, irresistible, before whose glance men quail as before a lion! His horse and arms—the former large of carcass, small of limb, feet large and broad, fleet as the antelope, courageous as the panther. Of the arms, the sword which, wielded by his father, had cut through a buffalo's skin and divided the thickest quilting. He goes forth, and the fight commences; the horses charge, and the Nuwab and his enemy meet (each is mounted on the back of a man). They fight; sword after sword (made of wood) is splintered. One of the horses is killed—it is the Nuwab's! He too is killed! he is at the mercy of his foe! No, he is up again; the fight is renewed; it is long doubtful; fresh weapons are given by attendants; at last he is victorious. Alla Akbar! the victory is won, the enemy is routed.
Then follows the torture of the prisoners, the rifling of the zenana. There is one slave beautiful, small, delicate in form, an eye like the gazelle's, fair as the beauties of Room or the fabled ones of England. She falls at his feet—he is captivated. She conquers, and the Nika is performed. They live happily for some time; but the fame of the beauty of the daughter of a neighbour reaches him. His soul is on fire; his former love is neglected. He proposes marriage; it is accepted; the bride comes home, and a deadly jealousy ensues between the rival wives. The quarrels of the zenana are described; and by the shrieks of laughter from behind the screen, it is easy to believe how naturally all had been described and acted. The Nuwab has reached middle age; he is now a father of a family, a respectable man, a religious man, surrounded by Moolas, who flatter him, and have usurped the places of his former companions. He is as debauched as ever; but it is not known; he passes for a just and good man, and his durbar is described, and his judgments. What was Solomon compared with him? or Hatim Tai, or Lokman the wise? And at each enumeration of his virtues the assembly loudly applauded, and directed their looks to the real Nuwab who sat as the spectator.
Again the Nuwab is shown, old and decrepid, worn out by disease, surrounded by quacks, from whom he demands nostrums to make him young and vigorous. His zenana is fuller than ever of women, who flatter his vanity, tell him he is as young as ever he was, and yet are false to him; but he has a son who promises to excel his father, who is a Mejnoon in form, a Roostum in valour, before whom his father's enemies are scattered like chaff from the grain before the wind. The old Nuwab is growing more and more decrepid and querulous. His fancies and longings are described in a most laughable manner; and as the final event approaches, he sinks into his eternal sleep, sure of the seventy Houris of Paradise, and the eternal youth, which is the portion of true believers. Having concluded, they stepped forward for the largess promised.
"Well, Meer Sahib," said the Nuwab to me, "how like you this?—have the men done ill or well?"
"Ul-humd-ul-illa!" said I; "the works of Alla are wonderful, and assuredly these fellows are of his especial handywork. I have seen many of their caste before, but never any like these."
"They shall be well rewarded," said the Nuwab; "and yet, despite of our having laughed at the whole story, there is much of a moral in it, and much satire. Would that many of the rising generation could receive a lesson from it; they might become wiser and better men."
"Ameen," I replied; "my lord's remarks are just. I did not notice the satire when I heard it; but now I feel it, and it is just."
The night was far advanced; and, requesting leave to depart, I rose to be gone. I was passing the Tuwaifs, when an old woman pulled me by the sleeve, and said, hurriedly, "If you seek an opportunity, there is another who desires one. Be secret; you shall hear more from me." My blood boiled. I slipt a piece of money into her hand, and departed.
I said my blood boiled. Could it be that one so lovely—one who had kept company with the nobles and men of wealth of Hyderabad, had seen aught to admire in me, who was unused to courtly scenes, and was even yet a boy, deficient in manner and address?—could it be that, from my dress and appearance, she thought me rich—one who would squander my substance upon her? These thoughts were passing through my mind, and we had nearly reached our encampment without my having interchanged a word with my companions. The silence was broken by Bhudrinath.
"How is this, Meer Sahib?" said he; "what has tied your tongue?—have you nothing to talk about after our night's entertainment—no remarks to make on the beautiful Kunchinee? By Alla!—though it is a Mahomedan oath—I would almost be content to give up the heaven of Indra, and turn Moosulman, were I sure of being attended in the paradise of Mahomed by a set of Houris just such as she. And to think of her belonging to that old wretch the Nuwab, and to be buried in this hole of a Mahratta village, when she might have half the nobles of Hyderabad at her feet, were she there. By Alla!—I say again—it were worth the while to try and entice her away from the old sensualist; and it would be something to talk about, not to mention her company on the road, and the rare addition she would make to our evening amusements."
"Why," I replied, carelessly, "the girl is, as you say, of surpassing beauty, and no doubt feels herself uncomfortable in this abode of swine; yet to get her away would be no easy task; and what should we do with her when we got her?"
"I shall try and see if her coming with us is any such marvellous difficulty," he rejoined; "and, you know, if afterwards there is any pursuit, she and the rest of her people are easily provided for."
"Now you speak like a cold-blooded Thug," I retorted angrily (for deny it as much as I would to myself, I could not but feel that the dancing-girl had more than interested me); "and I would sooner quit you all, and get back to Hindostan the best way I could, than that a hair of her head should be injured."
"I did but jest, Meer Sahib; you know I am not one who wars with women, except when they come before me in the fair and lawful exercise of my vocation. No, if we get the girl, it must be by fair means; and strait-laced as your father is on many points, he is too fond of a good song and good music to deny us having her in company; so do not mind what I said, and do not go to sleep upon your anger to your poor friend, if indeed you have any."
"I am not angry," said I, "though I certainly felt my blood rise when you alluded to her. We will consider about the rest in the morning; and if we can but persuade my father that the girl comes of her own accord, I do not anticipateany objection; but we must be sure that she will go first; and to this end I have a kind of clue which may guide me."
"How?—did she say aught to you?" he eagerly inquired.
"No," said I; "how could she in that crowd? but you know I understand Persian—thanks to the old Moola, my teacher—and you do not; and from the words of the last plaintive song she sang, and her mode of expressing them, I have a shrewd guess that she is tired of confinement, and of her mate. You know the old proverb, 'Kubootur bu kubootur, bâz bu bâz'—pigeons mate with pigeons, and hawks with hawks."
"Well," said Bhudrinath, "according to that, she is more likely to look to you than to me; and you know I am a Brahmin; therefore I leave her and the matter to your management; I am ready to assist when I can be of use. Inshalla! as you people say, we shall make a corner-stone of the old fellow's beard, and laugh him to scorn."
"Ameen!" said I, "we will try, at all events; and you shall hear from me in the course of to-morrow more upon this subject." We then separated for the night; and I was glad Peer Khan and the rest of the men had been so far behind us as not to have been able to overhear any part of our conversation. I confess that, as I lay down to sleep, I earnestly desired the success of our scheme, though as yet it could hardly be called one; and though I had in some degree struggled with it, I had not been proof against the fascination of the dancing-girl; nor indeed was it to be wondered at, after the words of the old woman.
Soon after the morning prayer the leaders of the band were assembled to see the opening of the bags of him who had died the evening before. My father presided in the assembly; and one by one they were brought from the pile of merchandize. We had indeed got a prize; and it was not to be wondered at that the care of them had cost the man they belonged to so much anxiety. In each of them, among a quantity of old clothes, rags, and old copper vessels, were concealed small boxes filled with precious stones, pearls, small diamonds, rubies, and emeralds; and in two of the boxes were sets of ornaments made up, and set with jewels; and two in particular, a bazu bund, or ornament for the arm, and a sir-pesh, or ornament for the turban, were particularly splendid. My father, who had a good deal of experience in these matters, pronounced the whole to be worth at least fifteen thousand rupees, and offered the band the alternative of distributing the whole in as equal portions as he could, or of waiting till our arrival at Hyderabad, where they could easily be sold for ready money. The latter, after some deliberation, was determined on, as had been the case with the former booty.
I proposed, as I knew that we might perhaps run short of money on the road, especially if we met with no more rich travellers, to offer one of the two ornaments for sale to the Nuwab, and as I had made his acquaintance to take it to him myself. The proposal was agreed to, and I was not without hope that by some lucky chance I might fall in with the old woman who had spoken to me the night before, and might be able to arrange a meeting with her, which should guide us in our future plans; so accordingly about noon I called Bhudrinath to accompany me, and we proceeded to the palace, as it was called by the villagers. By the way we met with our friend the Kotwal; but I cut him short with "Another time, Kotwaljee,"—for it seemed as though we were to have a long story—"another time, my friend, we will pay you a visit; but at present the matter we have in hand is urgent, and it being past noon we are afraid of being denied admittance, and so you must excuse us."
"Of course," said he, "I will not detain you, and I shall not fail to present myself at your camp this evening to receive your further commands."
"That means," said Bhudrinath as we moved on, "that he expects a present. These worthies have been my study for many years."
"Ay," said I, "we must pay him well, and he will be the first to cry up our praises should anything happen; but do you anticipate anything?"
"Not I," said he; "I wish we could always do our work as securely, and get as well paid for it; but here we are at the Nuwab's gate."
An attendant at our request took in our names to the Nuwab, and after a short delay we were again ushered into his presence, and received with thesame civility as we had been the night before. After some desultory conversation, I opened the object of our visit. "Khodawund," said I, "my father pleads an attack of fever and cold, for not attending to present his nuzzur at your feet, and he trusts you will pardon his seeming neglect. In his behalf I have brought a rare piece of jewellery for your inspection, which he hopes may please you; and by its purchase you will not only materially assist him, but it will become the property of one worthy to possess and wear it."
Thus saying I produced the ornament for the turban, and laid it before him. He was evidently much struck with its beauty and the fine water of the precious stones, and after turning it in every position he could to catch the exact light for it, laid it down with a kind of sigh. "It is indeed beautiful, and worthy of the turban of Bundugan Ali himself; but," said he, "I am too poor to buy it: its value must be very great."
"No doubt," said I, "my grandfather must have paid handsomely for it; but times have altered with us, and we have been glad to sell our family property for whatever it would fetch. In this instance, far be it from your slave's intention to put a price upon an ornament without peer in its fashion; yet methinks it would so well become the forehead of my lord that he ought not to let slip such an opportunity of possessing it, to be enabled to show it one day at the court of his prince."
"Thou sayest truly; and if I may, I will but show it in the Mahal, and see how the persons of my household like it. Inshalla! they will approve of it, and then we will see if we can come to terms about it."
"Certainly," said I; "the time has been when it would have been nothing for our house to have presented a tray of such to one of my lord's power and rank; but we are reduced, as I said, and are no longer fit possessors of what we dare not wear."
The Nuwab took the jewel, and went into his zenana: he was absent a long time, but we could see by his face on his return that it had been approved of. "They have looked at it in a thousand ways, and have discovered that there is good fortune to come with it: not that I need any; but you know what a parcel of old women are," said he. "And now I will ask what may be the price: you know we nobles of Hyderabad are not overburthened with money, and you must be moderate in your demand."
"Why," said I, "I am flattered by the opinion of those who have seen it, and can only say, that my grandfather (may his memory live for ever!) paid so large a sum for the jewel that I am afraid to mention it. My lord must observe particularly its exquisite water. He, I say, collected the stones one by one during a long period of his life, and they cost him alone six thousand rupees; the gold around them is somewhat more; but my father will esteem himself fortunate if five thousand rupees be given for it."
"It is too much," said the Nuwab with a sigh: "where have I five thousand rupees to lay out in such a bauble as this? My friends, I have been gratified by the sight of it, but to purchase it is out of the question; the money I have not. Yet stay; allow me to have it valued by a jeweller, and we may perhaps come to terms."
"By all means," said I; "I have told my lord no lie in stating the price of it: but let the jeweller see it; he may fix a smaller sum; and such is our urgent necessity for a little ready money that perhaps we may be induced to take something less."
The jeweller was accordingly sent for, and arrived after a short time. He was shown the jewel; and from the expression of admiration on his countenance, I could see we had not overvalued it. He took it to the light, and putting on his spectacles, examined it in every possible way. At last he returned, and taking the spectacles from his nose, asked the price we had fixed on it. I told him. "At the time this was made up," said he, "no doubt it was worth the sum you mention, for the stones are of rare water; nevertheless, we all know that men cannot afford to expend money as they used to do; and all things considered, perhaps at present four thousand rupees would not be too much, and indeed a fair price."
"It is too little; we must be content to sell other articles to supply our necessities: so Nuwab Sahib," said I, "with our profound thanks for your condescension,we ask leave for our departure;" and I took up the jewel and arose.
"Stay," said he; "I offer you three hundred rupees more: four thousand three hundred, surely that is sufficient."
"Make it five hundred," I replied, "and it is yours." And after much haggling on both sides, the price was fixed at four thousand four hundred and fifty. Of this, two thousand five hundred were paid by the Nuwab's treasurer in money, and for the rest, at my request, a bill was made out by a sahoukar of the village on Hyderabad. And after again offering our thanks to the Nuwab, we took leave of him for ever.
"Not a bad morning's work," said I to my companion as we walked homewards, attended by some of the Nuwab's soldiers, escorting the men who carried the bags of money: "the sight of the coin will gladden my old father's heart; and it will be something to divide among the men, who are really in want of money, and will keep them comfortably till we reach the city, even though we should fall in with no more rich prizes."
"Indeed, you may congratulate yourself on your address and good manners; for without them you could not have carried the matter off in the way you have done," said he. "Now if I, though I am a far older Thug, had tried it, I should have most likely failed for want of a plausible story. The old fellow swallowed the account of your grandfather as if it had been as true as that we are now here. By Krishna, thou art a rare boy!"
"These matters sharpen one's intellect; and though I could not deceive an unfortunate traveller as you can, you see I am of some use at a pinch, Bhudrinath."
"All will come in time," said he; "I do not despair of you after this: and if you accompany me in my work, you will soon excel me, I think."
"We shall see," I returned; "but our errand is not complete; we have not met the old woman."
"Ha! so that plan is still in your head?" cried he; "I warrant it you dreamt of the Kunchinee last night, and your young heart is all on fire."
"No," said I, laughing, "not quite that; but I have some hope, and I shall return to the Kotwal's chowree after a little time, and perhaps the old creature may be in the bazar and may see me."
"Shall I accompany you?" asked he.
"No," said I, "I think it would mar the business; I will go alone; the presence of another besides myself might prevent her, if I meet her, from being communicative."
"As you will," said he; "as you are determined to carry the matter to the utmost, you have a better chance of success than I have, and besides you are a principal, while I could only be an agent."
Thus conversing, we arrived at the tents, and dismissing the soldiers and money-carriers with a handsome present, I had the bags moved into my father's tent, who was asleep. I ranged them before him, and awakening him, pointed to them. He rubbed his eyes, grumbling at being aroused from his slumber; but they were quickly fascinated by the sight of the bags, and I could not help laughing heartily at his astonishment, as he took them up one by one, guessing at their contents.
"What, my son! Ameer Ali, where hast thou got all this? There must be five hundred rupees in each of them! One, two, three, four, five," said he, counting them: "two thousand five hundred! impossible! My son, what hast thou been doing? My brain is in astonishment. Where didst thou get it?"
"There is just what you say, father," said I; "each contains five hundred, or nearly. It is the price of the jewel you gave me to sell, which it seems was worth more than we thought for. I asked at a venture five thousand rupees, and I have brought you four thousand four hundred and fifty, which was as much as I could get: here are hoondees for two thousand, and the rest is in the bags."
"As much as you could get, boy!" cried my father; "why thou hast done wonders. Mashalla! we are rich indeed; this is more than I ever expected." And, his eyes fairly running over with tears, he embraced me warmly.
"Now," said I, "as I have done good service, I have in return a favour to beg, which I hope my father will grant; and it is a matter I dared not settle without his sanction."
"Say on," said my father; "I can deny thee nothing."
"Why," continued I, "there is a Tuwaif of surpassing beauty, who sings like a bulbul, and who is anxious to accompany us to Hyderabad. I dared not allow it without speaking to you."
The old man's visage clouded. "A Tuwaif!" said he; "and dost thou not remember, my son, all the cautions I have given thee against persons of her condition, and hast thou so soon forgotten them as to get into their company on the first occasion which presented itself?"
"I represent," said I, "that neither have I forgotten them, nor have I gone into her company. I saw her at the Nuwab's durbar last night, but did not even speak to her."
"Then how knowest thou that she desires to go from hence?"
"I have heard it," said I, "from one who is attached to her, an old woman, who, I doubt not, will be here before the evening."
My father shook his head. "I do not disbelieve thee, my son," said he; "but I mistrust thy young heart and hot temper; it is a danger too great to be encountered; for once with us, and she would get thee into her toils, and then father, duty, and profession will be alike forgotten, and I should lose thee, my son, which would kill me."
"Do not think so, I pray, my father," said I; "there is not the danger you anticipate; she would follow us, and we should see but little of her, except we desired her presence to sing to us on the dreary evenings of our journey. And grant me this request, I pray you; 'tis the only one I have ever asked, and perhaps I deserve something for what I have done hitherto."
"Thou dost indeed," he replied; "anything else would have been gladly granted without a demur on my part; however, I have confidence in thee, my son, and therefore have it as thou wilt, I will not gainsay thee in the matter." So far, therefore, there was no objection; yet my heart smote me as I thought on the concealment I had made of her being in the pay and service of the Nuwab, and that her connection with him might bring us all into trouble. "However," thought I, "women have sharp wits; and if she truly desires to get away from him, she will take her own measures."
As soon as I could, therefore, I set off to the bazar; and, after loitering along the row of shops, and purchasing articles that were really required by us, I ascended the steps which led to the chowree, and was soon in conversation with the Kotwal, who entertained me with the gossip of the town, and did not fail to endeavour to impress me with a high sense of his power and influence. More than once I was on the point of confiding to him my plan, and offering him a bribe to assist me; but I checked myself on the consideration that he might take my money, and afterwards play me false. As it happened, however, I was not long in suspense, for I saw the old woman in the bazar beneath me, making the best of her way in the direction of the gate of the town by which I had entered; so I took my leave of the worthy Kotwal, begging him to come to the camp in the evening for a reward for his civility and exertions. I had, however, lost sight of the old woman before I got fairly down into the street; and following the direction she had taken, overtook her just beyond the gate.
"Mother," said I, "am I he whom you seek?"
"Ai mere jan! (ah, my soul!) have I at last found thee, my prince? Surely I have not ceased in my endeavours since last night to meet thee; I saw thee enter the palace, but my old limbs would not carry me quick enough to overtake thee." And she threw her hands over my head, and cracked every joint of her fingers by pressing them against my temples.
"Are we secure against observation here?" she continued, "for I have much to say to thee, and that quickly."
"Not here," I replied; "I will go on to our tents yonder, and you can follow me; I will wait for you near them." The old woman hobbled up to me as I stood under a mango tree, secure from observation. Quite out of breath, shesat down: when she had recovered herself, she untied a corner of the cloth about her person, and presented me with a small ring.
"This," said she, "is from her you know of: and for the love of Alla, my soul! do you exert yourself for her: she is dying in this place, and is subject to all the torments the caprice of that unblest Nuwab can think of. She is one day in favour and loaded with kindnesses, another, in a fit of jealousy or rage, he deprives her of every comfort, shuts her up in a lonely room, and will not even allow me to go to her. You, my son, are young and brave; you will not suffer her to continue in this state, she who is the pearl of Hyderabad, who has found favour in the sight of princes and nobles. For the sake of Alla, exert yourself, and she is free, and will accompany you to the end of the world. She has seen you, and your beauty has entered into her soul and is consuming her liver; and between this and her former miseries, she is to-day in a state of madness, so that even I cannot pacify her."
"I am ready, mother," said I: "'tis true I have never been blessed with hearing a word from her, save in her songs: but I can understand them; and there was one she sang which has been ringing in my ears ever since I heard it. Say, had it any reference to me and herself?"
"You have guessed well," she replied: "I told her to sing it, in the chance of its being understood, and blessed be Alla it was not in vain: but the time is passing fast, my son, and what can be done?"
"Nay," said I, "that I wish to hear from yourself, for I know not how to proceed; neither do I know this town, nor the house where she lives, so what can I advise? I am helpless in this matter, yet willing to the utmost."
"Listen then," said the old woman; "I will describe the place, and you must come after me and see it from the outside, that you may know it in the night. The place she is now in, and where she will most likely sleep to-night, is a small tiled house, at the corner of the wall of the zenana toward the street. There are two windows, some distance from the ground, yet not so high but that she might get out, if any one helped her on the outside. There is no other way of her escaping; for it would be impossible for her to get through the zenana, and afterwards through the open courts, which are full of soldiers. Say, will you dare the adventure; or be a coward, a namurd, who would not risk a drop of blood for a woman, and one so fair as she is?"
"I am no coward, I believe," said I, "though I have no deeds of arms to boast of. I accept the risk, and I pray Alla to defend us! Are there soldiers near the place?"
"No," said she, "not one; the only danger is at the village gate, which is always guarded. How will you pass this?"
"If that is all," said I, "trust to me; and Inshalla! we will all laugh at the Nuwab's beard in the morning. But tell me, how do you intend to contrive to accompany us?"
"Ah, I have arranged that already. I am allowed free egress at any hour of the night, upon the various pretences or necessities of my mistress; and I can get out at midnight and meet you anywhere you may determine."
"This is good," said I; "now come and show me the place."
She guided me through the gate we had just passed, and turning down a narrow alley, desired me to mark the various windings as we went along, which I did. We at last reached a street between two high walls, one of which was the Nuwab's zenana; and passing on, we arrived at length under a small tiled house, which answered the description she had given of it. "This is the place," she said; "and that is the window from whence she must descend. It is not very high, as you see, and there will not be much difficulty in her getting out."
"I see none," I replied, "if she has only a stout heart. Tell her to tie her sheets together and drop them over; we will be below, and take care she reaches the ground easily."
"I will," said she; "and now away! we may be seen, and if so, Alla be our help!"
"She sees us!" cried I; "for there is a hand stretched forth from the window."
"It is she!" said the old woman; "and oh! what joy it must be to her toknow that there are persons anxious and willing to serve her! Now, my poor bird, thou shalt no longer have a cage, though it be a gilded one. But away, my soul, away! do not loiter here; a smile from her were dearly purchased now, and to-night you will have thousands, aye with her blessings too."
"I go," said I; "but fail not, nurse; for your life see that all is right; you must meet us at the corner we last passed."
The old woman nodded her assent, and I withdrew as quickly as possible from the spot, though I would have given worlds for one glance, for one approving smile, from the object of my love. As soon as I reached the tents, I summoned Bhudrinath, told him of my success, and unfolded to him the plan as it stood at present. He was rejoiced, and saw nothing objectionable in it.
"I have one thing, however," said he, "to represent, which you may do or not, as you please."
"What is it? say on."
"Why," he replied, "although it will be, as you say, an easy enough matter to get out of the town, I by no means think it so easy to get in."
"By Alla! you say truly," said I; "what advice can you give to aid my plan?"
"You see," rejoined he, "that the gates are guarded; I tried myself to get in last night, before midnight, as I had an affair of my own to look after, and the fair one expected me; but the sons of dogs at the gates (may their sisters be defiled!) swore I was a thief, and after interchanging abuse for a long time they finally shut the wicket in my face, and I was forced to return in the worst of all possible humours. So my advice is, that we go in before nightfall, and take up our quarters in the shop of a Bhutteara with whom I have scraped an acquaintance; the fellow will not suspect anything if we leave his place in the night, as I hinted my bad fortune of last night to him to-day, and he was the one to propose my coming to his place in the evening to go wherever I pleased afterwards. So what say you? shall we go to the fellow, or trust to our wits to get in the best way we can?"
"Your plan is a good one," said I, "and I thank you for your bad luck last night; but for it, we might have gone and knocked our heads against the gate to no purpose; to be sure we might climb over the wall, and I wonder you did not think of it."
"I did," he replied, "and was undecided about attempting it; but some fellow might have seen me, and, taking me for a thief, have thought no more of sending a ball through me than if I were a dog; so I came away."
"Thou hast a wonderful deal of discretion," said I; "now my hot blood would have led me into some scrape, whereas thou hast eaten thy ill-humour."
"And am now at thy service," rejoined he. "So we sleep inside to-night, which I am glad of, and we will get out through the further gate; it will be some way round, but that is better than facing the fellows at this gate, who I suspect know me, or will recognise my voice, for I was too angry to disguise it."
"We will," said I: "and now I must in and eat, for I have fasted since the morning, and an enterprise is ill done on an empty stomach."
After evening prayer Bhudrinath and myself went into the town; and it was well we did so, for the men at the gate knew him perfectly, and good-naturedly joked him about his bad success the night before. "Thou art beforehand with us to-night, my friend," said one fellow; "and thou art wise, for hadst thou come later we should have shut the door in thy face as before."
"You might have been more civil," said Bhudrinath, laughing. "I suppose, though you would not let me in, you will let me out in case I should bring any one with me?"
"Why, that is not against orders exactly, but you would have to pay toll; so, if you have not brought money with you, you had better stay where you are."
"I may find some probably," said Bhudrinath to the speaker, "enough at any rate to fill your hookahs for some days, if there is occasion."
"Agreed," said all the fellows; "a bargain, by Alla! a few rupees, and you may take any one you please, the Nuwab's harem too to boot, though there is not much in it by all accounts."
"Who is your wughyra, your officer?" said I; and one of the men steppedout. "I am he, may it please your nobility, and I can wink at an honest fellow's doings as well as another."
"Provided you are paid for it," said I.
"Of course," said he, laughing; "we are lucky when chance throws gentlemen like you in our way."
"Here then," said I, "are five rupees, to entertain yourselves with; and see that you don't get drunk, or the blame will fall on us."
"May your condescension increase!" cried the whole; "we are your worship's devoted servants."
"Now how do you mean to get out?" asked Bhudrinath as we passed on.
"Not this way," said I, "if I can help it, for there will be a disturbance about the matter; and if we go out here it will give a clue to our discovery. We will try the other gate first."
"I will lay a wager they are all drunk in an hour," said he, "and we may then open the gate for ourselves; but here is the Bhutteara's shop, and those kabobs smell very savoury; I sometimes wish I was not a Brahmin, that I might eat them as you do."
"Ah," said I, "it is well for you to say that; but perhaps they may have proved too tempting at some time or other."
"By Krishna! I swear you wrong me," cried he; "Brahmin I am, and will be; you know my creed tells me that I have been successively transformed through every grade of suffering humanity, and now that I have reached the top, I am not such a fool as to descend to the bottom and undergo the whole pain over again for the sake of a few kabobs."
"You are right," said I; "nevertheless I will try them; I could not eat when I wished at my tent, but their smell has raised my appetite wonderfully." And in a short time my fingers were pretty deep in a smoking dish of kicheree and kabobs, as hot as pepper could make them.
"Friend Bhutteara," said I when I had done, "surely the Shitan himself must visit your shop now and then, for no other could eat those scraps of meat, except he had a mouth of brass."
"I beg pardon," said the fellow, "but I was away on business, and I suspect my daughter must, as you say, have put too much pepper in them; but I can make my lord a cup of sherbet, a poor imitation of what true believers will drink in Paradise, and it will cool his mouth."
"And a hookah, if you please," said I, "then I shall feel more comfortable."