I followed him for a little distance, and he pointed to a huge pile of rocks at the back of the Karwan and Begum Bazar. "There, do you see a white spot about half-way up on a rock?"
"I do," said I.
"That is the spot," he replied; "it is known but to myself and a few others; whatever I can pick up I put there."
"What do you get?"
"Ah, little enough; sometimes a shawl, a brocade handkerchief, or some gold, anything in fact. But why do you ask? Will you do what I said and join us? there are sixteen of us; one is yonder disguised as a Fakeer, the rest are hard by and will accompany us."
"Dog!" cried I, dashing him to the earth, "dog! dost thou know to whom thou speakest? Here there is no one," (for we had got to the back of the houses,) "and it were an easy task to send thee to Jehanum; one blow of my sword, and that false tongue would cease to speak for ever:" and I half drew it. I knew the effect this would have: there was the same grovelling cowardice he had displayed before! he clung to my knees; I spurned him and spit on him. "Reptile!" cried I at length, wearied by his abjectness, "I would scorn to touch thee: a Syud of Hindostan is too proud to stoop to such game as thou art; lead me to the Sahoukar, for by Alla I distrust thee!"
"Nay, in this matter I have been honest," said the wretch; "the money is sure."
"It will be well for thee that it is," said I, "or I swear to be revenged; lead on, and beware how you go; if I see one attempt at escape I will cut you in two, were it in the middle of the bazar."
"Then follow me closely," said he; and he gathered up his garments, which had become disordered, and we again entered the crowded bazar. We were soon at the Sahoukar's, who awaited us: the money and gold were told out, and a receipt I had brought with me given, and accompanied by the guard of soldiers I took the treasure to my father.
"Meer Sahib, kind Meer Sahib," said the Dullal, as we approached our dwelling, "you will forget all that has passed; Bhugwan knows I was only jesting with you; I love to play such tricks,—nay, I have always been of a jesting disposition:" and he laughed in his terror. "You will not forget my little perquisite, my hundred and fifty rupees, I know you will not."
"Peace!" cried I, "if you wish to get a cowree. Has it not been promised to thee on the word of two of the faithful? Thou shalt get the uttermost farthing."
I dismissed the sepoys with a small present when the money had been lodged in our strong-room, and as they went, the miserable Dullal looked after them as though he thought with them had departed his last chance for existence. It certainly drew to a close. "Give me my money and let me depart," said he in a hollow voice.
"Wait," said I, "till it is counted out for you."
"Ah, I had forgotten the Dullaljee," cried my father; "I will get out his due."
My father counted out the money and handed it over to the Dullal; his countenance brightened as he viewed it, and he made numberless salams and protestations of thanks. "Now you must write a receipt for the money," said my father.
"Surely," replied the fellow, taking a pen out of his turban, "if my lord will give me paper and ink."
"Here they are," said I; "write."
He did so, gave me the paper, and tied the money up in a corner of his dhotee, which he tucked into his waistband. "Have I permission to depart?" he asked; "my lord knows the poor Dullal, and that he has behaved honestly in this transaction. Whenever my lord returns to Hyderabad, he can always hear of Mohun Das, if he inquires at the Char Minar, and he will always be ready to exert himself in his patron's service."
"Stay," said I; "I have somewhat to say to thee;" and I related to my father the whole of the conversation I have just described.
"Is it so?" said he to the miserable being before him; "is it so? speak, wretch! let me hear the truth from thy own lips; wouldst thou have robbed me?"
But the creature he addressed was mute; he stood paralysed by fear and conscious guilt, his eyes starting from his head, his mouth open, and his blanched lips drawn tightly across his teeth. "Thou hast deserved it," continued my father; "I read in that vile face of thine deeds of robbery, of murder, of knavery and villany of every kind; thou must die!"
"Ah, no, no! Die?—my lord is pleased to be facetious; what has his poor slave done?" and he grinned a ghastly smile.
"Thou wouldst have robbed me," said my father, "when I trusted thee with my whole substance; thou wouldst have left me to starve in a strange land without compunction; thou hast robbed others, and cheated thousands: say, art thou fit to live, to prey longer upon the world thou hast already despoiled?"
He threw himself at my father's feet; he grasped his knees; he could scarcely speak, and was fearfully convulsed and agitated by extreme terror. "I am all that you say," he cried, "thief, murderer, and villain; but oh! do not kill me. My lord's face is kind—I cannot die—and my lord has no sword, and how will he kill me?" He had only just perceived that we were both unarmed, and he made a sudden rush at the door. "The Kotwal shall know of this," he cried; "people are not to be terrified with impunity." The door was fastened; he gave several desperate pulls and pushes at it; but I was at his back, and the fatal handkerchief was over his head: he turned round and glared on me—the next instant he was dead at my feet.
"There," cried my father exultingly, "judgment has overtaken him, and the memory of his crimes will sleep with him for ever; we have done a good deed."
"Yes," said I, "a good one indeed; he confessed himself to be a murderer, robber, and knave—what more need you? and so young too for this accumulation of crime!"
"Drag him in here," said my father, "I like not to look on him; and go for the Luggaees; he must be buried at night in the small yard of the house; I dare not have the body carried out in this crowded city."
"It shall be done," I replied; "but think what an escape we have had; had you not told me to go with the wretch, we should have lost our money."
"Yes, my son, and even had we got it, had you not suspected that five per cent. was too much, I should certainly have paid the sum; but I saw your drift, and I think took up the clue admirably. We have cheated the knave both out of his money and his life."
"True," said I, "it has been a good adventure, and amusing withal; besides it promises further advantage."
"From the rock and the Fakeer?"
"Yes; there will be good booty."
"Take care," said my father; "the band may be there, and they will give you a warm reception."
"I will go and consult with Bhudrinath," said I; "the adventure will just suit him and Surfuraz Khan; we will do nothing rashly."
Bhudrinath was at the serai waiting for me. "So, Meer Sahib," said he, "you are still in the humour for a frolic; how many lives will satisfy your worship to-night there is no lack of men in this abode of villany."
"I am in the humour," said I, "but not for what I intended; I have better game in view."
"Ha!" said he, "soyouhave been acting Sotha; and pray what may this game be?"
"One that will require stout hearts, and maybe naked weapons," I replied: "are you willing to accompany me?"
"To death," said Bhudrinath; "but I cannot for my life see what you are driving at."
"Listen," I replied; and I related to him the whole history of the Dullal.
"Cleverly done, very cleverly, indeed, my young jemadar," said he, when my relation was ended; "no one could have managed it better from first to last; the rascal deserved his fate; and now I suppose we must search out these hidden treasures in the rock."
"Exactly," said I; "I would do so this very night if I knew how to go about it properly."
"Let me see," said Bhudrinath musing; "we shall not want many men, six or eight resolute fellows will be sufficient. You and I, Peer Khan, Motee-ram, and four others, are ample; there is no use waiting for Surfuraz Khan, he will not now be back before the morning. But how to get intelligence of the place, and whether any of the rascals are there at night?"
"Can no one personate a Fakeer?" said I; "a kulundur, anything will do. He might go up now, as the spot is close by, and bring us news in an hour or so."
"I have it!" cried Bhudrinath. "Here, some one call Shekhjee to me."
Shekhjee came. He was an old man, with a long beard; but he was an able fellow, and a rare good hand with the handkerchief. "Shekhjee," said Bhudrinath, "sit down, I have something to say to you. You can personate a Fakeer if necessary, can you not?"
"Certainly," replied the old fellow; "Moosulman or Hindoo, all kinds are familiar to me. I know all their forms of speech, and have many of their dresses."
"It is well," said Bhudrinath; "now listen. You must go and disguise yourself this instant; we have an enterprise in view;" and he related our proposed scheme and what had preceded it. "And now," continued Bhudrinath, "you must be wary, and by dark you must return, and tell us of the place, and if there are men there."
"Is the Fakeer who lives there a Hindoo or Moosulman?"
"I saw the impression of spread hands in whitewash on the rock, so he must be a Moosulman," said I.
"Then I know how to act," cried the Thug. "Sahibs, I take my leave, and will not fail you. I shall be with you by the time I am required."
"Will he manage it?" I asked of Bhudrinath. "Methinks it is a delicate business."
"Never fear him," said Bhudrinath; "he is a most accomplished rogue and is a capital hand at disguise, especially as a Fakeer, and once got us considerable booty by enticing five Nanukshaee Fakeers among us who had picked up a good deal of money, and were going to build a well with it. Besides, he is as brave as a lion, and you have seen his other work."
As we were talking Surfuraz Khan came in. "Ours has been a good business," he cried exultingly, "and there is good spoil. We have killed all the men, and the plunder is coming in charge of our fellows."
"That is so far good," said I; "but is there any ready money, or is it all goods?"
"Both, Meer Sahib, both; but methinks you need not be so ready to ask, when we have not seen your face ever since we have been in the city. We might all have been taken and safely lodged in Puntoo Lall's huwélee for all you knew of the matter. I do not like such conduct."
I was enraged at his speech, and was about making an angry reply when Bhudrinath interfered. "Peace!" said he, "no brawls: it is disgraceful, and only fit for drunkards and smokers of ganja; listen to me. Surfuraz Khan, you are no boy, and ought not to let your anger have sway; listen and hear what our young jemadar has been about, and I swear by Bhowanee I think he will yet put us all to shame."
He then related all I had told him, on hearing which Surfuraz Khan's angry feelings gave way in a moment; he rose and embraced me. "I was wrong," said he, "and you must forgive me; and to prove that I am more than ever your friend, I beg you to allow me a place in this adventure, for, by Alla! it promises to be a strange one."
"Willingly," said I; "we thought you would not arrive in time, but now you are come I would not on any account that you did not accompany us."
"So you have strangled the fellows you took out," said Bhudrinath. "Had you any trouble?"
"None whatever," replied the Khan. "We took them out on the Masulipatam road, and found a spot on the other side of Surroonuggur; we threw the bodies into a well and returned by another road. Soobhan Alla! this is a rare place, and we might remain here for years and have some amusement every day. I think I shall stay here."
"You may do as you please about that," said I, "when we have shared the spoil we have got. You will then be free, but I should be sorry to lose you."
In such conversation we continued till it was dusk, and then assembling the men we intended to take, eight in all, and seeing that our arms were in good order, we waited in great anxiety for the return of our emissary. At last he came. "There is no time to be lost," said he. "I went up to the place and found the Fakeer. He is a fine sturdy young fellow, and at first warned me to descend; but when I told him I was hungry and weary, that I had just arrived from Hindostan, and did not know where to lay my head, and begged for a crust of bread and water in the name of the Twelve Imaums, he was pacified, and admitted me into his cave, gave me some food and a hookah, and we sat carousing for some time. I pulled out my opium-box and took a very little; seeing it he begged for some, and has taken such a dose that he will not wake till morning. I left him fast asleep."
"He shall never wake again," said I: "but did you observe the place? Where can the plunder be hidden?"
"He lives in a cave, between two enormous rocks," said Shekhjee. "It was nearly all in darkness, but I saw a corner at the back of it built up with mud and stones, which he said was his sleeping-place, and I suspect it is there that the plunder is concealed."
"Come then," said I; "there is not a moment to be lost; if we delay we may chance to find the rest of the gang. This is just the hour at which they are all out in the bazars, stealing what they can."
We all sallied out, and conducted by our guide, crept stealthily along the foot of the rocks till we gained the narrow pathway by which we were to ascend. We held a moment's conference in whispers, and bidding five of the men stay below until we should tell them to ascend, Bhudrinath, myself, and Surfuraz Khan crept up the narrow track to the mouth of the cave, whither the old Thug had preceded us.
"He still sleeps," said he in a whisper; "but tread softly, lest you wake him. He lies yonder, close by the lamp."
"Mind, he is mine," said I to Bhudrinath: "do you and Surfuraz Khan hold him;" for as I looked on the powerful form before me, I felt this precaution to be necessary. But he slept; how was I to throw the roomal about his neck? Bhudrinath solved the difficulty; he gave the Fakeer a smart blow withthe flat of his sheathed sword upon the stomach, and the fellow started up to a sitting posture.
"What is this? Thieves!" was all he could say; my handkerchief was ready, and now it never failed me—he was dead in an instant.
"Now trim the lamp," said I to Bhudrinath. "Call up three of the men, and let the others remain below to look out."
Bhudrinath tore a piece of rag off the clothes of the dead Fakeer, which he twisted up into a thick wick and put into the oil vessel; its strong glare lighted up the interior of the cave, and we saw everything distinctly.
"Here is the wall which I spoke of," said Shekhjee, "and we had better search behind it." We did so. There were piles of earthen jars in one corner, which we at first supposed to contain grain or flour, and indeed the first two we uncovered had rice and dal in them; the third felt heavy.
"This has something in it beyond rice," said I; "examine it closely." The mouth was stuffed with rags, but when they were removed we beheld it filled with money—rupees and pice mixed together.
"This was not wise," said Bhudrinath; "the Shah Sahib ought not to have mixed his copper and silver, the silver will be tarnished; but we can clean it."
The next pot was the same: the last was the best; it was full of gold and silver ornaments, rings, anklets, and armlets. We shuddered to see that many of them were stained with blood. "The villains!" I exclaimed; "that wretch then told the truth when he confessed himself to be a murderer; the city is well rid of him. But we must not stand talking. Do one of ye tie these things up and be ready for a start, while we look out for further spoil."
But there was nothing else in this corner, no bales of cloth or other articles as we had expected. We were looking about to find any other place of concealment, and had nearly given up our search, when Surfuraz Khan, who had gone outside, called to us. "Come here," he cried; "there is a place here which looks suspicious."
We ran to the spot, and found the hole he had discovered to be between two rocks; it was dark within, and a man could but just enter by crawling upon his hands and knees. "Give me the light," said I; "I will enter it if the devil were inside."
"Better the devil than any of this infernal gang," said Bhudrinath to me as I entered.
I found no one, and the space within, which was so low that I could scarcely stand upright, was filled with bundles. "Neither the devil nor any of the gang are here," cried I to those outside, "so do some of you come in quickly and see what I have found."
I set myself to work, as did also the others, to untie the different bundles, and we were all busily employed. I had just opened one which contained, as I thought, brass cooking-pots and water-vessels, and was overjoyed to find some gold and others silver, when the alarm was given from outside. We all got out as quickly as we could and inquired the cause. "There are two men," said the scouts, "whom we have watched come round the corner of the houses yonder and approach the bottom of the rocks; they do not walk fast, and appear to be carrying loads of something."
"Only two," said I, "then they are easily managed. Put out the light, and conceal yourselves at the entrance of the cave; we must fall upon them as they enter."
We had just taken our posts behind a rock which was close to the mouth, our roomals ready, and two with their swords drawn, when one of the fellows called out, "Ho! Sein! Sein! come down and help us up. Here we are, laden like Pulla-wallas, and thou hast not even a light to show us the way."
"Not a word," said I, "as you value your lives. Let them come."
"May his mother be defiled!" said the other fellow. "The beast is drunk in his den and does not hear us. I will settle with him for this."
I suppose he stumbled and fell, for there was another series of execrations at the Fakeer, the load, and the stones; but in a few moments more they both reached the platform and threw down their bundles, which clanked as they fell. "Where is this drunken rascal!" said one, a tall fellow as big as the one we hadkilled. "No light for us, and I warrant the brute has either smoked himself dead drunk or is away at the Bhung-khana just when he is wanted."
The other sat down, apparently fairly tired and out of breath. "Go inside," said he; "you will find the lamp and cruse of oil behind the wall. I will not stir an inch."
The first speaker entered, cursing and abusing the Fakeer. Surfuraz Khan and I rushed on him and despatched him; but the other, hearing the scuffle, cried out and attempted to escape. He was not fated to do so, however; his foot slipped, or he stumbled over one of the bundles he had brought, and fell, and before he could rise had received his death-wound by a cut in the neck from one of the men behind the rock, who darted out upon him. "Enough of this work," said I; "we had better be off; first, however, let us pay one more visit to the hole and get what we can, and do one of you see what is in the bundles."
We again entered the hole, and each taking a bundle we got out. Those the fellows had brought only contained cooking-pots and a few cloths, so we left them behind, and made the best of our way to the serai laden with our booty. I have forgotten to tell you, Sahib, how many more proofs we discovered in that cave of the bloody trade of these villains. Many of the bundles were of wearing apparel, and most of them covered with blood; one that I opened was quite saturated, and as the still wet gore stuck to my fingers, I dropped it with mingled disgust and horror.
When we returned we had a good laugh over our success. The adventure was novel to us all, and we pictured to ourselves the mortification and chagrin of the robbers, when they should arrive, at finding their stronghold plundered of all its valuables, and their friends lying dead at the threshold, instead of being ready to receive them and recount their adventures of the evening. As a better place of security, I took the jewels and silver vessels I had found to our house, and locked them up in the strong-room, to be disposed of afterwards as best they might be. My father, I need not say, was overpowered with joy, and every new feat that I performed seemed to render me more dear to him. He caressed me as though I had still been a child.
"Wait till these actions are known in Hindostan, my son," said he, with enthusiasm; "I am much mistaken indeed if they do not raise you to a rank which has been attained by few, that of Subadar."
I did not reply to him, but I made an inward determination to venture everything to attain it. I was aware that nothing but a very successful expedition, coupled with large booty and a deed of some notoriety and daring, could raise me to the rank my father had mentioned; but that it could be attained I had no doubt, since others had reached it before me;—and why should not I, whose whole soul was bent upon winning fame through deeds which men should tremble to hear. Two days after our adventure at the robbers' cave, the whole of the Karwan and adjacent neighbourhood were thrown into great excitement from the discovery of the dead bodies by their smell and the number of vultures they attracted. Various were the conjectures as to the perpetrators of the violent deed, and many attributed it to the treachery of some of the band of robbers; however, all agreed that a great benefit had been done by unknown agents. Much of the stolen property was recovered; among it was some of great value which had been stolen from a sahoukar a short time before, and which in our hurry and confusion had escaped us; but, as it was, we had got a considerable booty. All the gold and silver was secretly melted into lumps by one of our men who understood how to do it, and it was valued by weight at upwards of seven thousand rupees.
On a general division of the proceeds of the booty being proposed, which amounted in a gross sum, by the sale of the camels, horses, bullocks, carts, and various valuables, to about fifty thousand rupees, all the Thugs agreed that it had better be reserved until the return of the expedition to our village; and meanwhile twenty rupees were disbursed to each inferior, and fifty to eachjemadar, for their present wants. My father now talked of leaving the city; but I entreated a further stay of ten days, as, in concert with Bhudrinath and Surfuraz Khan, I had laid out a plan for dividing our gang into four portions, one to take post on each side of the city, and to exercise our vocation separately, the proceeds to be deposited as collected in one place, and to be divided when we could no longer carry on our work.
The plan was favourably received by him, and that day it was put into execution. We paid the trifling rent of our house, and on the pretence that we were about to leave the city and return to Hindostan, quitted the Karwan and took up our quarters on the other side, in a suburb which bordered upon the Meer Joomla tank. Bhudrinath and his party went into the Chuddar Ghat bazar, near the magnificent mansion of the Resident, as, being a grand thoroughfare, it was frequented by numerous travellers, and from thence branched off many roads, both to the north and east. Surfuraz Khan with eight men continued at the Karwan, as he was less known than we were. Another larger party took post on the western road from the city towards Shumshabad, under Peer Khan and Motee-ram, who were resolved by their exertions to merit the trust which had been confided to them.
Our plan succeeded wonderfully; not a day passed in which the destruction of several parties was not reported, and though the booty gained was inconsiderable, yet it was probably as much as we could expect, and it was all collected and deposited in our new abode, from whence my father disposed of such as met a ready sale. I pass over my own share in these little affairs. I had thought, when I selected the quarter I did, that there would have been more work than turned out to be the case; I was disappointed in the small share which fell to my lot, in despite of my utmost exertions to the contrary, and entreated Bhudrinath or Surfuraz Khan to exchange places with me; they however would not; they had laid their own plans, and as I had myself selected my station I had no right to any other, nor ought I to have been dissatisfied. It was very early in the morning of the eighth day after we had commenced operations, that Bhudrinath came to me in great alarm.
"We must fly," said he; "the city is no longer safe for us."
"How?" I asked in astonishment; "what has happened? Has aught been discovered, or have any of the band proved faithless and denounced us?"
"I will tell you," replied Bhudrinath; "it is a sad affair—some of our best men are taken and in confinement. You know Surfuraz Khan to be daring, far beyond the bounds of discretion, and that for this reason few hitherto have liked to trust themselves to his guidance; and but for this fault he would ere now have been one of our leading jemadars, for he is a Thug by descent of many generations, and his family has always been powerful."
"But the matter," cried I, impatiently; "what in the name of Shitan have we to do with his ancestors? By Alla! you are as bad as a——"
"Nay, I was not going to make a story about it," said Bhudrinath, mildly, for nothing could provoke him, "so do not lose your temper; but listen. Surfuraz Khan then yesterday evening had got hold of two sahoukars, who were on the eve of departure for Aurungabad; he persuaded them to put up in the serai with him, and they were to start the next morning. They were supposed to be rich, as their effects in two panniers were brought into the serai, and carefully watched by them. By some unlucky chance, just as the evening set in, they were visited by two or three other merchants whom they seemed to know, and who persuaded them to wait for another week, and to join them in their journey up the country. To the extreme mortification of Surfuraz Khan they agreed to the proposal; but as they said there would be danger in removing their bags from the serai at night, they told their friends they would sleep there, and join them in the morning. Surfuraz Khan, I hear, made every exertion by persuasion to induce them to alter their determination, but in vain. So you know there remained but one alternative, which was to put them to death in the serai, and to dispose of the bodies as well as they could; besides, the circumstance of the men being afraid to risk their bags by removal at night, looked as though they were of value. I must own, Meer Sahib, it was tempting; it would even have been so for you or me,—how much more for the Khan! Had he even waited till towards morning, done the business, andstarted, leaving the bodies where they were, he could have got clean off with the booty, which was large, and he could have come round the back of the city and joined you or me; any one of us could have taken his post in the Karwan, and no one would have been at all suspicious. But no, he did not reflect; the men were killed almost immediately after their friends left, and their bags plundered: as it is, we have got some of the spoil in the shape of two strings of pearls, but the best are gone."
"And how was the matter discovered? you have not said."
"Why," continued Bhudrinath, "one of the sahoukars' friends shortly after returned with a message; Surfuraz Khan made some excuse that they had gone out, but would soon return. The fellow waited for a long time; but at last growing suspicious he went away, and returned with the others, who insisted upon a search for their friends. Surfuraz Khan had contrived to bury the bodies in the yard, but some articles were found on his person which the others positively swore to, as also the bags in which they had been; and the upshot of the whole was, that they were all marched off to the city by a guard which was summoned from somewhere or other for the purpose, except one of them, by name Himmat Khan, one of Surfuraz's own people, who happened to be absent."
"It is a sad business truly," said I, "and I do not exactly see what is to be done to extricate them."
"Nor I," replied Bhudrinath; "but this evil comes of not taking the omens, nor attending properly to them when they are taken."
"Nonsense," said I; "you are always prating about these foolish omens, as if success lay more in them than in stout hearts and cunning plans. I believe them not."
"You will rue it then one day or other," said Bhudrinath; "depend upon it you will rue it; I tell you I could mention a hundred instances of the disastrous effects of disregard of omens, and what I say will be readily confirmed by your father."
"Pooh," said I, "he is as superstitious and absurd as yourself; why do you not make your lamentations on my want of faith to him, instead of troubling me with them?"
"I would," he replied, "but that he seems to have given over the charge of the whole expedition to you, and to have forgotten his station as the leader and conductor. Did any one ever hear of a whole band being separated, and each pursuing a separate course, without the omens being taken, or a solemn sacrifice offered to Bhowanee?"
"I thought that you had performed all the rites you seem to think so necessary," said I, sneeringly; "and if you have not, to whom else have we to look but to you, who are the Nishan-burdar? By Alla and his Prophet! Bhudrinath, methinks you have deceived us all; and," said I, my anger rising, "I bid you beware how you speak of my father as you have done; remember that I am able and willing to avenge any word which may be spoken against him, and I will do it."
"Young man," said Bhudrinath, gravely, "you well know me to be one who never enters into idle brawls or quarrels, and these angry words of yours are wasted; keep them, I pray you, for those who will gratify you by taking offence at them—to me they are trifles. Your placing no dependence upon the omens which have been considered by Thugs both of your faith and mine to be essential to our success, is only attributable to your inexperience; the necessary offerings have been neglected by us, and behold the punishment. Though at present it has fallen lightly upon us, there is no saying how soon the whole of us may be in danger; suppose any of those taken are put to the torture and denounce us, how could we escape?"
"Then what do you counsel?" said I.
"I would first propose an offering to Bhowanee, and then such measures for the deliverance of those who have been seized as may be hereafter determined on by us all."
"Perform the ceremonies by all means," said I; "you and my father know how to do so; my ignorance might mar your object, so I will keep away from you till they are over."
"You are right, it might—and I am glad to hear you at length speak reasonably; where is your father?"
"You will find him asleep within," said I, "and you had better go to him."
Sahib, the sacrifices were made, the omens watched, and declared to be favourable. What they were I know not; I cared so little about these ceremonies then, that I did not go near them, or even ask what had been done. It was only in after days that their value and importance were impressed upon me by a series of misfortunes, which were no doubt sent to check my presumption; since then my faith in them has been steadfast, as you shall hereafter learn. My father and Bhudrinath returned to me with joyful countenances. "Bhowanee is propitious," said they, "in spite of this little display of her anger: the truth is, we had in some manner neglected her, but she is now satisfied."
"Since that is the case," said I, "we had better be stirring and doing something for the poor fellows; but what to do I know not. When did you say they were seized, Bhudrinath?"
"About the middle of the night."
"Then they are now in confinement somewhere or other, and it will be impossible to effect their release by day; a bribe I dare not offer, for they say Hussein Ali Khan, the Kotwal, is an upright man. When is it likely they will be brought before him?"
"I know not," said Bhudrinath, "but it can easily be ascertained,"—and he went into the street, and soon returned; "I asked an old Bunnea the question, or rather at what time the Kotwal held his durbar, and he told me in the first and second watches of the night."
"Then," said I, "they must be rescued by force, and I will do it."
"Impossible!" cried both at once.
"But I tell you I will do it," said I; "where is Himmat Khan? with him and six of our best men I will do it, if they will stand by me. Do any of them know the Kotwal's house?"
They were summoned, but none knew it. "Then," said I, "I will go even now and find it out, and will return when my plan is perfected."
"And I will go and bring some of my men," said Bhudrinath; "I will be back by noon."
"See that they bring their swords and shields, Bhudrinath; some of them may volunteer to accompany me."
"I will do so for one, Meer Sahib; I have confidence in you in spite of your want of faith,"—and he laughed.
"I understand you," said I; "you forgive me?"
"Certainly; did I ever quarrel with you?"
"No, indeed, though you had cause; I was foolish."
"Why, what is all this?" said my father; "you have not surely been offended with each other?"
"It is nothing," I replied, "for you see the end of it: but I am losing time, I must depart."
I went into the city, and easily got a person to show me the Kotwal's habitation. It was in a long, narrow street, which did not appear much of a thoroughfare. This exactly suited my purpose, for we could have done little in a crowded place. It seemed very practicable to surprise the men who should escort our friends, and I had no doubt, if suddenly attacked, they would scamper off, and leave their prisoners to their fate. I returned, and laid the result of my inquiries before my father. He was not averse to the undertaking, but was in much alarm at the prominent part I should have to play, and the chance of our being defeated.
"But," said he, "my son, these thoughts are the cowardly ones which affection often suggests, and Alla forbid they should have any effect with you; go, in the name of the Prophet, to whose protection I commend you."
Towards evening, therefore, myself, Bhudrinath, and six others, two of whom were Rajpoots, who swore to die rather than come back unsuccessful, went into the city. We separated, but kept in view of each other, and they all followed me to the street in which the Kotwal resided. There we lounged about for some hours, and I grew very impatient. Would they ever come?had they even before this been tried, condemned, and cast into prison? were questions I asked myself a thousand times. That the durbar was being held I knew by the number of persons who went in and came out of the house, but still there was no sign of our brethren.
I was sitting listlessly in the shop of a Tumbolee, almost the only one in the street, when Himmat Khan came up to me. I saw by his face that he had news, and descended from the chubootra, upon which the man exposed his goods, and turned round a dark corner. "They come," said he, panting for breath from anxiety; "I have been watching one end of the street, and Khoseal Sing the other: they are coming by my end, and will be now about half-way up."
"And by whom are they guarded?" I asked.
"Oh," said he, "a parcel of Line-wallas—about twenty soldiers with old muskets; we could cut through a hundred of them."
"Have they their bayonets fixed?" I inquired.
"They have; but what of that? they are cowardly rascals, and, you will see, will run away."
"Then," said I, "run and tell Bhudrinath, who is yonder; tell him to walk down that side, I will go down this; when we are near them I will give the jhirnee."
My four men had now joined me, as I told them to do if they saw me speak to any one; Bhudrinath was joined by his, and by Khoseal Sing, who had given up his watch at the other end, and arrived at the critical moment. Our parties proceeded down the street exactly opposite to each other. I thought not of danger, though it was the first time I had ever drawn a sword in anger against a fellow-creature, and I was about to precipitate myself into what might be a sudden and desperate combat. Our shields apparently hung loosely and easily on our arms, but they were tightly grasped, and our swords were free in their scabbards. I saw the party approach—they marched carelessly; and had not the arms of my companions been tightly bound, and the whole tied together by a rope, which the leader of the party held in his hand, they might have easily escaped.
Our men joined together in the middle of the street, and when we were close to the coming party, I cried, in a loud tone, "Bahee Pan lao!" It was the signal—our swords flashed from their scabbards, and we threw ourselves on the sepoys. I cut right and left, and two men fell; the others were as successful: I rushed to the prisoners, and a few strokes of my sword, and of those who were nearest, cut their bonds, and they were free. As Himmat Khan had said, the whole of the sepoys fled on the instant of the attack.
"Fly to the gates, my brothers, or they will be shut!" I cried; "fly through these narrow, dark streets; no one will know who you are, nor trouble themselves about you."
We all dispersed in an instant. I cast a hurried look around me as I returned my bloody sword into its scabbard, and saw five poor wretches lying on the ground and groaning. It was enough: I, too, fled down the nearest street which offered, reached the gate I had entered by, and when I got on the embankment of the Meer Joomla tank, I plunged among the gardens and inclosures which are below it, and by the various lanes which led through them soon reached my father's house. The attack on the escort of the prisoners, Sahib, was so sudden, and over so quickly, that I can give you but a faint idea how soon it was made and finished: it occupied less time than I have taken to tell it; and I have often wondered since, that the noise and confusion, not only caused by us, but by a few passengers who witnessed the fray, did not alarm the whole street, and cause the inhabitants to rise on us.
By morning all our companions were present at the different places of rendezvous; but thinking we were no longer safe about the city, my father sent them all out of the way to the camp at Hassain Sagor, where he bid them wait, for we knew that it would never be searched for us. Nothing now remained to detain us, but to dispose of the plunder we had gained during the last ten days, and there was none of much value; a few strings of pearls, several shawls, and some unset precious stones, were the best, and they were soon sold: the gold and silver, as before, had been melted down.
I had now only two matters on my hands; one to discover Zora, if I could, the other to endeavour to get the bills of exchange I had brought with me cashed. Of the first I had but little hope; for since the day I went to her house, although I had constantly men on the watch about it, I could discover nothing of her or of the old nurse; the latter I had bribed handsomely, and I knew if it was possible to convey to me any information of her I loved, she would do so. I had several times passed the house myself, in the hope of seeing Zora by some accident or other, but it was in vain; and at the time I now speak of, I had almost given her up in despair. Had it not been, Sahib, for the wild interest of my trade, I should have sunk into apathy and wretchedness—so fondly, so deeply did I love her. It was this which rescued me from myself, for I could not be behind the rest in seeking adventures; and once that I had a band entirely under my own direction, I was incessantly occupied in finding employment for it, and taking my own part in the catastrophes which ensued.
The day after the rescue of our brethren we held a consultation, at which the principal members of the band were present. I need not relate particulars; suffice it to say, that all agreed in thinking we had remained long enough consistently with our safety, and it was resolved to depart in the course of the next day, or at most the day after. One by one the parties, as they were then divided, were to take the nearest road towards Beeder, which led through Puttuncherroo; and the last-mentioned place was to be the rendezvous whence we should proceed in company. Little time, therefore, remained to me; and as soon as I possibly could, I took Bhudrinath and Motee-ram with me, and we went into the city. We sat down on the steps of the Char Minar. Wonderful, indeed, were the stories we heard of our skirmish with the Kotwal's soldiers; the accounts of the killed and wounded on each side were ludicrously inconsistent, and you may imagine how we enjoyed the various relations we heard, all either from persons who declared that they had been eyewitnesses of the matter, or who had heard it from undoubted authority. But it was not our errand to waste time by listening to idle tales, not one of which contained a word of truth, but to get the money for the bills we had found among the effects of Syud Mahomed Ali, alias Kumal Khan, and we had repaired to the Char Minar as the most likely place to meet with a person who could read them, and without suspicion tell us upon whom they were drawn.
Observing as we sat a miserable half-starved-looking wretch, with a pen stuck between his turban and his ear, an ink-bottle hanging by his side, and a roll of paper under his arm, I fixed upon him as a likely person to suit our purpose. I beckoned to him, and he ran eagerly towards us. "Canst thou read Goozerattee?" I asked.
"Noble sir, I can not only read but write it, for it is my native tongue; what are my lord's commands?"
"Simply," said I, "to read a hoondee—no great matter;" and I handed him one of the bills.
"It is an order, Sahib, drawn in favour of Kumal Khan (my lord's name I presume), by Bearee Mul of Nandair, upon Gopal Chund Bisn Chund of the Begum Bazar, for four hundred rupees, at nine days' sight."
"Is it correctly drawn?" I asked.
The fellow looked at the bill, and turned it round and round, examining every part of it. "Does your worship suspect it?"
"Alla forbid!" said I; "for if it is wrong, I and these worthy associates of mine are ruined, for we have more like it, and for larger sums."
"I see nothing wrong in the bill," said the man; "but let me see the others." I showed them.
"They are all correct," said he; "you have only to take them for acceptance, and you are sure of your money."
"Is the firm upon whom they are drawn well known?"
"They have a great deal of country business in hoondees," said the man, "and are on that account perhaps less known than many of our leading bankers, but nevertheless the firm is most respectable."
"Where did you say they live?"
"In the Begum Bazar. If your worships wish it I will accompany you thither."
"Good," said I, "do so; we are strangers, and might not readily find the house. You shall be rewarded for your trouble."
We went out of the city by a small gate at the end of a street which led down from the Char Minar,—I think it is called the Delhi gate,—and turning to the left, after crossing the river, we were soon in the midst of the populous and wealthy suburb in which the bankers we sought resided. The road through the principal street was almost entirely blocked up by bags of grain, bales of merchandize, tethered bullocks belonging to the grain-carriers, and empty carts; and it was as much as we could do to keep together, both from these causes and the crowd of people. The noise too of the crowd, of the buying and selling in the bazar, the curses and execrations of bullock-drivers and unloaders, the cries of men measuring grain, and a thousand others, made a din and confusion which I had never heard equalled. However, by dint of pushing and elbowing our way, we reached a respectable-looking house, and were introduced to one of the partners by the man we had taken with us.
I put a bold face on the matter and presented one of the hoondees. The Sahoukar was an old man, and taking a pair of spectacles from a fold in his turban, he placed them on the end of his nose and carefully read the hoondee; he afterwards turned it round and round, and examined it most carefully, looking from time to time most suspiciously at me over his glasses. I own this would have been unpleasant had I been alone, but with the two companions I had brought with me I cared not; had it come to the worst, our weapons were ready, and we would have used them for our liberty.
"I wish to speak a few words with you, if you will follow me into the next room," said the Sahoukar, pointing to one which led from that in which we sat. He rose, and I followed him.
"How came you to be possessed of this?" said he, anxiously; "and who are you?"
"It matters not who I am," I replied; "and it must suffice for you to know that I am to receive the money for that hoondee, and for these also;" and I showed him the others.
"Most extraordinary!" he exclaimed after he had examined them. "I cannot understand it. It is most strange that they should be presented by another. Young man, by what authority are you here to receive this money?"
"By his for whom they were drawn," I replied.
"His name, and the Sahoukar's who drew them?"
"Kumal Khan,—and the Sahoukar's Bearee Mul."
"That will not do," said the Sahoukar; "you have blundered in your errand, young man; the drawer's name any one could have told you."
"Perhaps this may enlighten you further upon the subject," said I, and I took from my waistband the seal of the Syud.
He examined it, and going to a box in the room he took from it a bundle of papers. He turned them over rapidly. "Ay, here they are," said he, reading, "'Accounts of Syud Mahomed Ali;' and now, young man, if there is deceit in that seal it can be easily proved, for behold the seal of the worthy Syud himself;" and he showed me an impression on one of the papers.
I confess I had been in much suspense, for had I by any unlucky chance got hold of the wrong seal my detection would have certainly followed; but still I had taken the ring from the man's own finger, and it was not likely that he had any other. The instant I saw the impression, however, I was satisfied that it was the right one.
"Now for the proof," said the Sahoukar, rubbing the seal over with ink andwetting a piece of paper with his tongue. "If you have attempted deceit, young man, your detection is certain. Shall I stamp it?"
"Certainly," said I; "I am innocent of any attempt to deceive you. The worthy Syud gave me the seal in order that you might be satisfied."
He pressed the seal to the paper and withdrew it; the impression was perfect, and exactly corresponded with that on the paper of accounts. "This is correct," he said, at length; "though I cannot read Persian, the letters appear the same, and the size is exact. I cannot, therefore, doubt longer; but still it is most strange."
"I can only say," said I, "that I am the Syud's confidential agent, whom he has sent to you for the money; if you will not pay it, say so, that I may write to him."
"By no means," said the Sahoukar; "the money is here. But why did not the Syud come himself? the bills are made payable to him alone."
"True," said I, "they are; but if you are in his confidence, as you seem to be, you will know that there are good reasons for his absence from the city at present, and as he wanted the money he has sent me for it."
"And where is he?"
"That I cannot tell you," said I; "it can be divulged to no one; suffice it for you to know that when the proper time comes he will emerge from his place of concealment." And I told the truth, Sahib, for will he not rise at the day of judgment? And Ameer Ali laughed heartily at his own conceit.
"Well," said the Sahoukar, "no doubt remains as to your right to the money. When do you want it? the bills are at nine days' sight."
"Now; I have no time to lose, I must depart in the morning. You can deduct the interest for nine days. But stay," I continued, "the Syud told me that if he owed you anything you were to deduct it, and if any balance of his remained in your hands you were to pay it to me."
"Good," replied the Sahoukar; "I will see;" and he turned to his books. "Ah, here is the account. Last balance struck the fifteenth of Suffer, nearly a year ago,—in his favour three hundred and twelve rupees, four annas."
"So much the better," said I; "now pay me the moneys and write a receipt; I will sign it with the seal, which I must take back with me."
The Sahoukar called to a man inside. "Here," said he, "register these hoondees and get the money for them, and make out a receipt. Your name?" said he to me.
"Ameer Ali, an unworthy Syud." The money was duly counted out, a trifling deduction made for interest, and the whole paid to me. I put my own seal as well as that of the Syud to the receipt, and after seeing the balance in the Sahoukar's books duly cancelled there was no longer cause to delay.
"How will you carry all that money?" said the Sahoukar; "this is not a safe place for people to be seen out at so late an hour" (for the evening was now closing fast) "with such a sum in their possession."
"Content yourself," said I; "we are three stout fellows, and well able to defend our charge."
"You had better take two of my men, at any rate, to carry the money."
"I will carry some, if I am permitted," said the man we had brought with us. "Bughwan knows I have eaten nothing to-day and knew not where to get a meal till these kind gentlemen met me; and I may perhaps earn a trifling sum above what they have promised me."
"Good," said I; "how much can you carry?"
"Two thousand rupees," he replied, "if my lord will try me."
"Very well, then take up that bag." The rest we divided between ourselves, and departed. We did not return as we had gone, but avoiding the city, passed by the house of the English Resident, crossed the river below it, and on the other side struck into some close lanes, which led to the suburb we lived in. As we went along, I said to Bhudrinath in Ramasee, which I had now learned, "That fellow must not live; our secret is safe with the Sahoukar, but not with another. What do you say?"
"I agree with you," said he. "We can throw the body into a well; and there is one not far off I think; I bathed there this morning."
"Very well," said I; "when you see the place give the signal. I will settle all our accounts with him for his trouble and carriage of our money."
We came to the well, and the signal was given; I was ready and my victim also, but he struggled hard, as the bag of rupees was on his shoulders, and my roomal had not fair play. He died, however, and we threw him into the well, with a large stone tied in his clothes to sink him. Strange, Sahib, that after protesting his poverty as he had done, we should have found forty-three rupees in his girdle!
You may judge of my father's joy at my success; and to prove his sense of the value of my address and ready wit, he presented me with five hundred rupees out of the sum I had brought. With this at my disposal I determined to make a last attempt for Zora, for I thought that with it I might bribe the old woman who called herself her mother; and late as it was, I pleaded some excuse and set off for the city. I soon reached the now well-known street, and finding the door open I entered, and was ushered into the presence of the old woman and Zora's sister Zenat. They rose on seeing me, and welcomed me kindly. "You have not been with us, Meer Sahib, since the Mohorum," said the old woman as she cracked all her fingers against her temples. "You knew that you would always be our most favoured guest, and yet we have not seen you. Why has there been this estrangement from us?"
I did not like to accuse the old woman of turning me from the door, as I have related before, so I said I had been absent from the city, and having only just returned had come to pay my respects to her. "And now, mother," said I, "where is Zora? Why is the rose separated from the nightingale?"
"Zora!" said the old woman; "why, have you not forgotten that foolish girl? Is there not Zenatbee, who is dying for you, and has raved about you ever since she saw you?"
"Toba! Toba!" cried Zenat, covering her face affectedly. "For shame, mother! how can you speak so? how can you tell such lies?"
"I say the truth, Meer Sahib; I swear the foolish girl's head has been turned by your beauty;" and she stroked my chin caressingly.
What could I do? I saw at once that if I did not affect love for Zenat I should never hear aught of Zora; but I could not forget her so easily, and I hated Zenat for her love. I thought it better to come to terms at once if I could. "Mother," said I, "I am proud of your daughter's love, and to one so young as I am such marks of preference as you say she is inclined to show me are most flattering; nevertheless, I cannot forget Zora; and tell me, by your soul, am I to see her or not? Now hear me; I am not a rich man, not one who could lavish thousands upon her, but what I have is hers for ever, and yours too, if you will give her to me. Will you part with her?"
"What do you offer?" said the old woman. "Methinks you must be one of our nobles in disguise to come here with such a proposition."
"I am no noble," said I, "but a poor Syud. I have five hundred rupees, and they are yours if you make Zora mine for ever; say the word, and to-morrow I will be present; we will send for a Moola, and the nika shall be performed."
"Five hundred rupees!" cried the old woman, and she and her daughter burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. "Five hundred rupees!" continued she at length, when she could speak; "oh, man, thou art either mad or drunk!"
"I am neither the one nor the other," I replied, very angrily; "I am as sober as either of you, nay far more so."
"Then if you are so," said the old wretch, "what, in the name of Alla, has come to you, that you think we would part with Zora for five hundred rupees? Five thousand and twice as much would not be sufficient."
"Then," said I, "you are a pair of the devil's children, and I spit at you. Not content with spurning me from your house like a dog, you now deny me the only happiness I looked to on earth. Women, have you no hearts?"
"Yes," cried the old hag in a fury; "yes, we did spurn you, as I do now. Begone! and never dare to intrude as you have done this night, or I will see ifI cannot bring a few stout fellows together to beat you out with sticks like a dog and a son of a dog as you are."
"Peace! woman," cried I; "beware how you revile my father."
"May his mouth be filled with earth and his grave defiled! May your mother——"
I could bear this no longer. I ran to the door for my shoes, and held one in my hand threateningly. "Now," said I, "another word of abuse, and I will beat you on the mouth."
It did not check her. A fresh torrent poured from her lips, and I was really provoked. I could bear it no longer. I rushed at her, beat her on the face with my shoe, and spat on her. The daughter hurried to the stair-head and raised cries of alarm. "Thief, thief! He is murdering us! Kasim Mahomed Ali, where are ye? We are murdered—we are defamed! Bring your swords, and kill him!"
I had pretty well belaboured the old woman, and thought it high time to be off; so I rushed to the door, and seizing Zenat threw her to the other side of the room with all my force. I saw that she had a heavy fall, and I ran down the stairs: about half way I met a man with a drawn sword; he stood, and was about to make a cut at me, but I seized his arm and hurled him down the steps, and as he rolled to the bottom I leaped over him and was outside the house in a moment. Well, thought I, as I went along, I have not got Zora, but I have slippered the old shitan her mother, which is some satisfaction, and Bhudrinath will laugh rarely when he hears of my exploit.
"For the love of Alla! young man," cried a low and sweet voice as I passed under the gateway of a respectable-looking house; "for the love of Alla, enter, and save my mistress!"
Fresh adventures, thought I, as I looked at the speaker, a young girl, dressed like a slave. "Who are you?"
"It matters not," said the speaker; "did you not pass this way yesterday afternoon, in company with two others?"
"I did, and what of that?"
"Everything; my mistress, who is more beautiful than the moon at its full, saw you and has gone mad about you."
"I am sorry," said I, "but I do not see how I can help her."
"But you must," said the girl; "you must, or she will die; follow me, and I will lead you to her."
I hesitated, for I had heard strange stories of lures spread for unwary persons—how they were enticed into houses for the gratification of wicked women, and then murdered. But the thought was only momentary. "Courage! Ameer Ali," said I to myself; "trust to your good Nusseeb, and follow it up. Inshalla! there will be some fun."
"Look you," said I to the girl, "you see I am well armed; I will follow you, but if violence is shown, those who oppose me will feel the edge of a sharp sword."
"I swear by your head," said the girl, "there is no danger. My lord is gone into the country, and has taken all the men with him; there is no one in the house beside myself but two slaves and three old women."
"Then lead on," said I; "I follow you."
She entered the gateway and conducted me through a court into an open room, where sat a girl, richly dressed and of great beauty; but she covered herself immediately with her dooputta, and cried when she saw me, "Ya Alla! it is he; am I so fortunate?"
"Yes, lady," said I, "your slave is at your feet, and prays you to remove that veil which hides a hoori of paradise from the gaze of a true believer."
"Go," said she faintly; "now that you are here I dare not look on you; go, in the name of Alla! what will you not have thought of me?"
"That your slave is the most favoured of his race," said I; "I beseech you to look on me, and then bid me depart if you will."
"I cannot," said the fair girl, "I cannot, I dare not; ah, nurse, what have you made me do?"
The old woman made me a sign to take the veil from her face, and I did so gently: she faintly opposed me, but it was in vain; in an instant I had removed it, and a pair of the loveliest eyes I had ever seen fixed their trembling gaze upon me—another, and I had clasped her to my heart.
"That is right," said the old woman; "I like to see some spirit in a lover; Mashalla! he is a noble youth;" and she came and cracked her fingers over my head.
"Now I will leave you," said she; "you have a great deal to say to each other, and the night is wearing fast."
"No, no, no!" cried the girl; "do not leave us; stay, good nurse, I dare not trust myself with him alone."
"Nonsense," cried the old woman, "this is foolishness; do not mind her, noble sir;" and she left the room.
"Lady," said I, "fear not, your slave may be trusted;" and I removed from her, and sat down at the edge of the carpet.
"I know not what you will think of me, Sahib," she said, "and I am at a loss how to confess that I was enamoured of you as I saw you pass my house yesterday; but so it was; my liver turned to water as I looked on your beauty, and I pined for you till my attendants thought I should have died. They said they would watch for you, and Alla has heard my prayer and sent you."
"He has sent a devoted slave," said I; "one whose soul burns with love, such as that of the bulbul to the rose: speak, and I will do your bidding."
"Hear my history, and you will know then how I am to be pitied," said the fair girl; "and it is told in a few words. I was the daughter of humble parents, but I was, as you see me—they say I am beautiful; they married me to my husband,—so they said,—but they sold me. Sahib, he is old, he is a tyrant, he has beaten me with his shoe, and I have sworn on his Koran that I will no longer remain under his roof. Yes, I have sworn it: I would have fled yesterday, but I saw you, and I prayed Alla to send you, and he has done so. Now think of me what you please, but save me!" And she arose, and throwing herself at my feet clasped my knees. "You will not refuse me protection? if you do, and your heart is hard towards me, one thing alone remains—I have prepared a bitter draught, and to-morrow's sun will look upon my dead body."
"Alla forbid! lady," said I. "He who has sent me to you has sent you a willing and a fearless slave: fly with me this instant, and I will lead you to a father who will welcome you, and a land far away where our flight will never be discovered."
"Now—so soon?" she exclaimed.
"Ay, lady, now; leave your house this moment; I will protect you with my life."
"I dare not, Sahib, I dare not; ah, what would become of us if we were discovered? you would escape, but I—you know a woman's fate if she is detected in intrigue."
"Then what can be done?" said I. "Alas! I am a stranger in the city, and know not what to advise."
"I will call my nurse; let us leave all to her.—Kulloo!"
The old woman entered. "What are your commands?" said she.
"Listen," said I; "I love your fair charge with an intensity of passion; this is no place for us to give ourselves up to love, for there is danger, and we must fly: I am a stranger in the city, and am on the eve of departure for my home, which is in Hindostan, and whither I will convey her safely; she is willing to accompany me, and your aid and advice are all that is required."
"To fly! to leave home and every one for Hindostan, and with one unknown! Azimabee, this is madness; how know you who he is, and where he will take you? I will not assist you. I was willing that you should have a lover, and helped you to get one; but this is mere madness—we shall be ruined."
"Mother," said I, "I am no deceiver; I swear by your head and eyes I canbe faithful; do but help two poor creatures whose affections are fixed upon each other, and we will invoke the blessings of the prophet on your head to the latest day of our lives. I leave here to-morrow; my father is a merchant and accompanies me; he has ample wealth for us both, and I am his only child: we shall soon be beyond any chance of pursuit, and in our happiness will for ever bless you as the author of it. Ah, nurse, cannot you contrive something? is there no spot on the road past Golconda which you could fix on for our meeting? I can reward you richly, and now promise you one hundred rupees, if you will do my bidding."
Azima gathered courage at my words, and fell at the feet of the old woman. "Kulloo!" she cried, "have you not known me as a child? have I not loved you from infancy? Alas! I have neither mother nor father now; and hashenot beaten me with a shoe? have I not sworn to quit this house? and did you not swear on my head you would aid me?"
"What can I do? what can I do?" cried the nurse; "alas, I am helpless; what can an old woman like me do?"
"Anything, everything," I exclaimed; "woman's wit never yet failed at a pinch."
"Did you not say you had made a vow to visit the Durgah of Hoosain Shah Wullee?" cried Azima; "and did not you say you would take me to present a nuzzur at the shrine of the holy saint, if I recovered from my last illness?"
"Thou hast hit it, my rose," said the nurse; "I had forgotten my vow. Sahib, can you meet us at the Durgah to-morrow at noon?"
"Assuredly," said I, "I will be present. Good nurse, do not fail us, and another fifty shall be added to the hundred I have already promised."
"May your condescension and generosity increase!" cried she. "Sahib, I have loved this fair girl from her infancy, and though it will go sorely against my heart, I will give her into your hands rather than she should be further exposed to the indignities she has already undergone."
"Thanks, thanks, good nurse, I believe you; but swear on her head that you will not break your faith."
"I swear," said the old woman, placing her hands on Azima's head, "I swear she shall be thine."
"Enough," I cried, "I am content; now, one embrace and I leave you. I shall be missed by my father, and he will fear I am murdered in this wild city."
We took a long, passionate embrace, and I tore myself from her. "To-morrow," I cried, "and at the Durgah we will meet, never again to part. So cheer thee, my beloved, and rouse all your energies for what is before you. To-morrow will be an eventful day to us both, and I pray the good Alla a prosperous one."
"It will, it will," cried the nurse; "fear not for anything. Nurgiz is faithful, and shall accompany us; the rest are long ago asleep, and know not you are here. But now begone; further delay is dangerous, and Nurgiz will lead you to the street."
She called, and the same slave who had ushered me in led the way to the door. "By your soul, noble sir, by your father and mother, do not be unfaithful, or it will kill her."
"I need not swear, pretty maiden," said I; "your mistress's beauty has melted my heart, and I am hers for ever."
"Then may Alla protect you, stranger! That is your road, if you go by the one you came yesterday."
I turned down the street and was soon at home. My father was asleep, and I lay down; but, Alla! Alla! how my heart beat and my head throbbed! A thousand times I wished I had carried off the beautiful Azima; a thousand times I cursed my own folly for having left her, when by a word from me she would have forsaken home and every tie and followed me; but it was too late. In the midst of conflicting thoughts and vain regrets I fell asleep; but I had disturbed dreams. I thought her dishonoured lord had surprised us as we tasted draughts of love, and a sword glittered over his head, with which he was about to revenge his disgrace. Again I fancied one of the Moolas of theDurgah to be him; and just as she was about to depart with us, and was stepping into a cart, he rushed to her and seized her, and I vainly endeavoured to drag her from him. I woke in the excitement of the dream, and my father stood over me.
"What, in the name of the Prophet, is the matter with you, Ameer Ali, my son?" cried the old man. "It is the hour of prayer, I came to awake you, and I find you tossing wildly in your sleep and calling on some one, though I could not distinguish the name; it sounded like a woman's—Azima, I think. What have you been about? Had you any bunij last night?"
Bunij was the cant phrase for our victims, and I shuddered at the ideas it called up. "No, no," I said, "nothing. Let me go and perform my ablutions; I will join you in the Namaz. It will compose my thoughts, and I will tell you."
Our prayers finished, I related my adventures of the past night. He laughed heartily at my relation of the scene with Zora's mother, and declared I had served her rightly; but when I came to that with Azima, his countenance was changed and troubled; however, he heard me to the end without interruption, and I augured favourably from it. I concluded all by throwing myself at his feet and imploring his sanction to our union.