CHAPTER II.
Next morning the prisoner was confined to the ante room, and told that on the following day his cell would be changed for one deeper in the heart of the mountain. He knew that the lower he descended, the more cheerless would be his habitation. About sunset an arrow was shot through the loophole of his cell, to the shaft of which was attached a strip of the palmyra leaf: upon this was scratched with a stylus the following words: “Unfasten the twisted thread at the head of this arrow; break off the steel barb, attach it to the end of the thread, and lower it into the valley as soon as darkness shall render it invisible to your guards.”
Soon after the sun had sunk behind the ocean, with a palpitating heart the captive obeyed this injunction, and drew up a strong silken rope, about the size of his fore-finger; attached to which was another strip of palmyra leaf, with the following direction: “Conceal this, and take the first seasonable opportunity to lower yourself from the rock. Despair not—you have friends; be vigilant and cautious—but despise difficulties.” On that night the sky became overcast, and the heat oppressive to such a degree that the air of the prisoners cell was scarcely respirable. There was no star visible throughout the whole expanse of the heavens. The sun had set behind vast masses of clouds, the skirts of which caught his rays, and reflected them in infinitely varied tints upon the summits of the hills. They were of an intensely opaque purple, but fringed with a fiery glow, as if the trains were already fired that communicated with the magazines concealed within their dark bosoms, and about to be ignited to a fearful explosion. The aspect of the skies had been lowering throughout the day. As evening advanced, the gloom had increased; and as the sun was withdrawing his light, which faded from the deepening volumes that hung around his disc, he seemed to glare ominously. He bade this world a sullen good-night, ashe descended behind the grey waters to enlighten other spheres, and leave this to its repose; but the elements were too busy to allow that repose to be universal.
The hurricane roared over the sleepers’ heads, and roused them from their dreams to witness the strife of nature in one of her sublimest conflicts. Long before midnight the tempest howled fearfully above the fortress. The sentinels upon the walls were drenched, and the clouds projected their fires, as if commencing the final conflagration. This was supposed to be the work of the fakeer, who had quitted the fort, muttering menaces of mischief. The storm was appalling. The soldiers shrank from the conflux of excited elements, and sought shelter within the shaft from their pitiless fury. The thunder burst with an explosion that appeared to convulse the whole expanse above. A peal shook the fortress to its foundation. The entire mountain seemed to stagger as if reeling over the chasm of an earthquake: a flash of lightning followed; the bolt struck the rock, and split it almost to the base. The thunder again rolled above, and the immediate silence which succeeded was like the intense silence of death.
The mischief had taken place upon that side of the mountain inhabited by the prisoner. He started from his couch; and so sudden was the effect produced by the thunderbolt, that, upon reaching the loophole, he perceived a huge mass had been struck down by the electric fire, and the side of the mountain so shattered, that by pushing against the fractured body, a large portion of rock which formed the wall of his cell gave way, and rolled with a hideous crash into the valley beneath. The cries of the monkeys inhabiting the trees succeeded to the dull booming sound of the falling rock, and mingled strangely with the furious collision of the elements above. The prisoner stood still awhile, amazed at the awful violence of the tempest, when the soldier who had attended the fakeer again abruptly entered his cell. He started at seeing the opening made by the lightning, and cautiously closed the door behind him.
“You must change your apartment this night; there is too much of heaven’s light here for a state captive.”
“I cannot well exchange for a worse,” said the youth calmly: “conduct me whither you please; I am resigned to my destiny. Paradise hereafter is for the wretched here, but not for those who make them wretched.”
“God is merciful!” ejaculated the soldier; “we are his instruments; he ratifies the punishment of those we doom to trial, and will reward his own instruments who perform their duty conscientiously. I have sworn allegiance to the Emperor, and if he were to command me to cut your throat, I should not only be justified in my obedience, but should receive the divine sanction for doing my duty.”
“This is the casuistry of tyrants; and with such a plea for murder, who can wonder that so many souls are freed from the incumbrance of mortal flesh amid the dark and secret recesses of the dungeon, where no eye can behold the horrible deed, but His to whose vision there is no limit, and to whose knowledge there is no boundary.”
“You say well, but you are too clever to be free. In these perilous times, princes who have wise heads upon their shoulders may be dangerous subjects; therefore, ’tis the policy of courts to keep them from plotting. The hand of Heaven has been here to-night,” said he, approaching the loophole, and surveying the opening which had been left by the thunderbolt: “the whole side of the mountain seems to have been splintered,” he continued, running his hand along the side of the cell where the mischief appeared. “We must try what stone and mortar can do in the morning. But the leap is too high to apprehend escape.”
By this time he had placed himself within the rift made by the lightning. His head was projected forward, and his eyes strained to pierce into the gloomy ravine beneath. This was too tempting an opportunity to be lost. The captive sprang forward, thrust his hands suddenly against the soldier’s shoulders, who with a scream of agony bounded from the edge of the opening, and fell like a plummet into the hideous gloom below. His body dashed through the branches; the chattering of the monkeys was heard for a few moments, and then all was still.
Happily for him who had thus opportunely got rid of a foe, the storm continued so violent that none of the garrison heard the cry uttered by the man as he was propelled from the rock, nor the crash which followed; and as he did not return to his comrades, it was naturally enough surmised by them that he was keeping watch over the prisoner, of whom suspicions of an unfavourable nature had been entertained since the visit of the fakeer.
About two hours after midnight the storm abated. The clouds rolled from the heavens, and left its blue plains studded with stars, which cast a dun dingy light upon the objects around. The air was fresh and balmy. A gentle breeze stirred the foliage, from which it tenderly shook the spray gathered there by the recent tempest. The breath of heaven fanned the prisoner’s cheek, and he felt as if it was kissed by the airs of paradise. He looked through the chasm which the lightning had formed in the mountain’s side upon the far-spreading sky, and his heart leaped with an effervescent and holy joy. The aspirations of freedom went up from his bosom on the wings of gratitude. He saw the means of escape before him, and the flush of hope radiated upon his brow like the moon’s light upon a calm solitary lake, in which its beauty is enshrined as flowers in amber. His thoughts were now free as the breeze which played upon his temples, and seemed as if imbued with the spirit of life. How the soul was tossed within him! but it was in a tumult of the most exquisite fruition.
He took the cord from a nook in which he had secreted it from the prying gaze of intruders. It was slight, but strong; and the hope of freedom subdued his fears of trusting to so slender a security. The difficulties of descending by so thin a rope were not easy to be overcome. The height from the ground on the side of the hill was at least ninety feet; and it would be all but impossible to slide from such an elevation by a rope scarcely more than the third of an inch in diameter, and which, being of silk, was so slippery that a firm hold of it could not be secured.
About twenty feet below the rift grew a thick bush from a fissure in the rock. The prisoner having secured his cord to a large iron ring in the door which closed upon his prison, fastened the silvermouthpiece of his hookah between the twistings, so that it crossed at right angles, and thus gave him a resting-place for his foot. Having made all secure, he slid down, tore the bush from the cleft, and with great difficulty regained his prison. He now continued to place, at intervals of about ten feet, small lengths of the stem and branches of the shrub, as he had already done the mouthpiece of his hookah, thus forming a kind of ladder.
Having prepared his frail instrument, he commenced his descent. He had passed the rope over a projecting crag above, in order to keep it clear from the face of the precipice. When he had descended midway, one of the steps broke, and he was left for a few moments clinging with desperate tenacity to the cord. He could not sustain himself—it flew through his hand; but his progress was fortunately arrested by the next step, which happened to be stronger, and sustained his footing. The shock, however, of his rapid descent gave increased momentum to the rope, which began to turn round with considerable velocity; and this was increased by every effort made to still it.
The prisoner was becoming dizzy with the fearful whirl. He was afraid to move, expecting every moment that he should be obliged to relinquish his hold, and commit himself to the abyss beneath; when happily the cord slipped from the projecting buttress above, and dashed him with considerable violence against the stony face of the mountain. Though severely bruised, he managed to retain his hold of the silken ladder, now no longer agitated; and after pausing a moment to recover his self-possession, he continued to lower himself until his progress was arrested by the branches of a large tree. Upon these he rested, and determined to remain till dawn.
As soon as the first beam of day slanted over the valley in which the escaped prisoner had taken refuge, he perceived that he was in the heart of a thickly-wooded glen, surrounded by a family of monkeys, which began to announce their dissatisfaction at his unwelcome intrusion by the most discordant chattering. Fearing that their din might give warning of his escape to the garrison above, he descended the tree with all possible despatch;when his joy was only equalled by his astonishment at beholding before him the unsightly form of the fakeer.
“Welcome to liberty! God is merciful! Your enemies shall be scattered, and the captive prince enthroned! Retire with me to my dwelling, and you shall know further.”
Saying this, the holy man led the way, followed by the grandson of Jehangire: for he who had just escaped from captivity was no less a personage than Dawir Buxsh, son of Sultan Chusero, and heir to the imperial throne. Beneath the root of a large forest tree, a hole had been dug to the depth of seven feet, which led into a small cavern scarcely two yards square. The mode of entrance and egress was by means of the notched trunk of a small tree, that served as a ladder.
Before he entered the subterranean retreat of his venerable companion, the young prince, aided by the old man, twisted round a tree the cord by which he had escaped from the fortress, and with a stick tightened it until it gave way above, just where it had been chafed by the rough ledge over which it had been thrown to prevent contact with the mountain side. Having taken this precaution, he entered the sacred dwelling of the fakeer.