Pahar Singh had been long watching from the window we have before mentioned. There were three descents from the plain above to the village, all within his view; and there were men on each of the bastions also, watching in all directions. He was very restless and moody; not even the gold found in several bags which he had taken to his private apartments—not even the large amount of booty, which had so few light coins in it—could dispel the gloom. He had ordered all about him to be silent, and even Amrut Rao had obeyed him as yet; and his little daughter, who was allowed to sit in the hall when no strangers were present, had nestled to his side, but was afraid to speak.
Ararat Rao knew, however, by experience, that the more his master was allowed to brood over anything in this manner, the harder it was to rally him; and as the account of the money had been made up, he took the paper, trimmed the lamp, and stood in an attitude to read, unchecked by the actual distortion of the chief's face in a repressed fury, at which even his daughter concealed herself, and cowered into a corner, and which soon broke out in violent oaths and abuse.
Amrut Rao bent to the storm, and did not reply. After an interval he read slowly:—
"Twenty-seven thousand two hundred and ninety-three rupees; and the five bags of ashruffees which you took inside—how many were in them?"
"What is that to you? do you want to steal them? By the gods! you are over-familiar to-night, Amrut Rao. Did I not bid ye all be silent, and dare you disobey? you—dare you?" cried the chief, raising himself, while the foam gathered upon his lips, and the veins swelled on his forehead. "Dare you?"
"My lord," replied Amrut Rao, joining his hands, "abuse of a Brahmun, out of a noble mouth, is sin—unfitting to hear. Be reasonable. This is the best booty which we have seen for many a day. If we knew the total of the ashruffees we could add it, and you could sign the day-book, and clear away all the bags. It is getting late."
"Let it be. No, I will not sign the paper," cried Pahar Singh, petulantly. "What need have I with wealth? he will not come now. I will go to Kasee, Jugunath, and Raméshwur; I will give up the world; I have committed much sin, and will have no more of it. I will—— Ha, by the gods! there is a shot on the road," he continued, as the sharp ring of Gopal Singh's matchlock broke the silence without: "another, and another! and a horse's neigh, too; and there were but the three. Can it be they, Maun Singh? speak! by your soul, speak: why are you silent?"
"Let the cloud pass from your spirit, brother: it is they, sure enough. I would swear to Gopal's gun by its ring anywhere."
"Burn a light from the upper bastion—two! it may cheer them down the pass. Quick!" cried the chief; "answer their signal. O Maun Singh! if I said anything bad, forgive me, brother; but I was distraught with care for that boy. Yes, they will see that," as the first blue light glittered over the village. "Burn another, Ranoba—a large one!" he called from the window to the men above; "we may even see them. By the gods! yes, Maun Singh, there they are: the three, and a man on horseback muffled up—a large grey horse—who can it be? Get hot water ready, and enough for all to eat. Bring a goat to kill before him. Tell thy mother, O daughter, to see to this; tell her they are come. How many short rupees were there, Amrut Rao?"
"My lord, it was as I said: the Brahmuns' bellies would be empty if we trusted to short rupees; all we could find were nine doubtful ones."
"Then, count out fifty more—stay, a hundred: will that feed them?"
"You have not told me how much gold there was, Maharaj," continued the Karkoon pertinaciously, not noticing the gift.
"Now, a plague on thee for an obstinate fool, Amrut Rao," replied the chief, laughing; "did I not tell thee not to speak about it?"
"The total of the silver is twenty-seven thousand two hundred and ninety-three rupees," returned the Karkoon; "and the gold must be added to complete the account before we retire."
"Well, then, there were five bags, and fifty Akburi mohurs in each: will that content you? or must you see them?"
"Why couldn't you tell me this at first?" continued Amrut Rao, writing in the account, which he spread on his left hand; "there, at twenty rupees each, another five thousand, that makes thirty-two thousand two hundred and ninety-three rupees. My lord ordered fifty rupees for the dole to-morrow; it might as well be the odd ninety-three."
"Ay, take that, and the two hundred over to boot, good fellow, if thou wilt. Here, some of you, stop him, stop my son, and kill a goat before him at the gate; see that lights are waved over him, and the evil eye is taken off him. Quick! there are the torches flashing in the bazar."
"I have deducted the sum, Maharaj," said the Karkoon deliberately; "now look at the total, and put your seal to it. Thirty-two thou——"
"By Krishna! thou wouldst leave me no peace, Amrut Rao," replied the chief; "here is the seal; seal the memorandum, and begone. Yet stay; thou art a good fellow after all; so take a handsome doopatta, or a pair of dhotees, out of that coin for thyself."
"Not out of the Brahmuns' bellies," retorted the Karkoon; "thank you. I shall have plenty of gifts by-and-by. Here is your seal."
The chief might have answered angrily, had his attention not been diverted at the moment. "Ah, here they are," he cried, looking from the window; "they have brought the man's horse up to the steps, and are taking him off—bound, too! Ai Purméshwar! but there must be much to hear. Why do they delay?"
In truth they had not delayed; for several torch-bearers, stationed at the gate, hearing the shots on the hill, had run forward in the direction of the pass, while the retainers and others from the bazar, crowded up to bid the young man welcome; for the anxiety in the castle had spread over the village. So Gopal Singh and his party entered the gates among many eager faces, lighted up by torches tossing above them, and were welcomed by noisy shouts as the men clustered round them. Then a bevy of village women awaited them, some bearing brass dishes filled with mustard-seed, and small lighted lamps, which were waved over him; others with jars of water, which were poured out before him; and, as othersjoined them, there was quite a procession up to the end of the second traverse.
Farther on, at the gate of the castle, stood a body of the household servants and retainers, one having a naked sword, and a goat before him bleating loudly. As Gopal Singh advanced, the sword flashed in the air, and the headless carcase struggled convulsively as the blood spouted over the sill and step, and trickled down towards the Lalla, who, lifted from his horse, shuddered as he was set down among it.
Again the ceremony of having lights waved over him by some of the women-servants was repeated; and Gopal Singh, bidding Lukshmun and the others search the Lalla carefully and keep what was found, ascended to the court, and was met in a warm embrace by his uncle, and led to the window, where, being seated, all present, including Maun Singh, advanced to salute him in turn.
"What did I say, brother?" cried Maun Singh joyfully. "I knew he would not disappoint us. Yet thou shouldst not have gone alone, Gopal."
"Nay, but I had the hunchbacks with me, and more would have spoiled my small hunt, which, if not so grand as thine, uncle, may yet be important," replied the young man.
"Ah, the boy, the boy!" exclaimed the chief, stroking the young man's face, and kissing the tips of his own fingers; "have I not brought him up since he was the height of my knee? And I thought him lost—Ai Bhugwân, Bhugwân! Ai Purméshwar! He is safe and well—safe and well, O Sri Máta! My heart swells. What did I say for the Brahmuns? Never mind now. Go, bathe and eat, my son, and we will see to everything afterwards."
"Not before that matter is settled, father—that is, about the man I brought with me."
"Yes, I had forgotten—certainly. Light the large lamps," cried the chief to the attendants at the lower end of the room; "let us see what manner of man he is. Who is he, Gopal?"
"That we have to find out, father. They thought him a spy of the Emperor's, and he came from Aurungabad, by Bheer, to Kullianee, to the Gosai's. He changed some bills for gold, and he has got it. I offered escort, but was refused; so I went from Muntalla to the Burr tree at Kinny, for we heard he was going to sleep in the Mutt at Surroori. They were sending him on privately, father."
"Shabash! well done, son. A spy? Well, if we are true to the King's salt, he goes no farther; and he was being sent privately! Ah, the old foxes! Here he is—what a sight!" cried the chief, breaking into uncontrollable laughter. "Who art thou? What have they done to thee? Speak."
In truth the poor Lalla was a show. The order to search him hadbeen literally complied with, and while two stout fellows held his arms wide apart, he was helpless to struggle. Rama and Lukshmun, who would allow no one to touch him, had dived into every pocket, and felt every possible place of concealment, even to the Lalla's hair, which was loosened and hung about his shoulders. His turban had been removed and shaken out, while one end was now fastened to his right arm. The bag of gold, tied round his waist, his bundle of precious papers, his sword, dagger, and waist-shawl, had all been taken from him and made into a bundle, and the articles were deliberately counted by the hunchback as they were deposited, one by one, in the centre of the shawl spread out for the purpose. It was quite in vain that the Lalla entreated, besought, struggled, or resisted by turns; the place, the rough men around him, all forbade hope of pity, and he submitted. Finally, Lukshmun dragging him by the end of his turban, Rama pushing him behind, and several of the others assisting, the Lalla was brought into the presence of the chief, where he sank down, stupidly staring about him.
Where were all the fine speeches he had contrived, which should have carried the chief's heart at once? All the couplets, too, from the Bôstan that he was to have quoted?—All gone. His head was bare, his clothes untied and hanging loosely about him; his boots removed: and his appearance of utter helplessness, and the hopeless, piteous expression of despair in his face, might have excited compassion in any but the hardened men by whom he was surrounded and confronted.
"Who art thou, knave? Speak," cried the chief, sternly, again raising his voice and checking his laughter. "Who art thou?"
"There now, make a salaam to the 'Lion of the Jungle'" (as the chief was called among his people), said Lukshmun, raising the right hand of the Lalla to his head, which dropped helplessly. "Ah, I see he is ashamed, poor man, of his naked head. There, Lallajee," and he wound the turban round his head hastily, giving it a ludicrous cock to one side, increasing, if possible, the grotesque expression of the features—"there now, get up and make your Tusleemât, else my lord may be angry; and he is not exactly safe when he is," he added in a whisper. "Get up, and don't be afraid."
But the Lalla's terror was too great, his mouth too dry to speak. "Amān, amān!—Mercy, mercy!" was all he could gasp.
"Who art thou, knave?" cried Pahar Singh again. "Whence art thou come? Give a good account of thyself. Let go of him, rascals!" he continued to the men who held him; "begone all of ye."
"Maharaj," cried Lukshmun beseechingly to the chief, "here are the Lalla's things; who will take them? Look, Rao Sahib," he continued, to Amrut Rao, "here they are: count them. I havedone with them—for the Lion is getting savage—let me go. Beware, O Lalla! take my advice, and tell all about yourself, else I shall have to kill you somehow. You don't know the Maharaj as I do."
This advice, and the diversion effected by the hunchback, afforded the Lalla a little time for the recovery of his senses; but who could have recognized the bland, accomplished Toolsee Das, in the abject figure before them? Hastily pressing the turban straight upon his brows, the Lalla arose, and, as well as he could, made the ordinary Tusleemât.
"Shabash!" cried the chief. "Well done, that was never learned in the jungle. Now speak truly, and at once, who art thou?"
"Noble sir," returned the Lalla, "I claim your protection. There has been a mistake about my treatment. My property has been taken, and I have been misused——"
"I misuse thee, knave?" cried Pahar Singh, his brow darkening; "who art thou to bandy words with Pahar Singh? I have never seen thee before."
"Beware, Lallajee," said Gopal Singh; "did I not warn thee? Say who thou art at once, or I will not answer for thee. Do not eat dirt."
"Peace, boy!" interrupted the chief angrily; "the fellow looks like a knave—a thief—his is no honest face. Speak; or, by the gods, there will be scant ceremony with thee!"
"My lord, my lord!" cried the Lalla piteously; "mercy, I am no thief; I am a poor Khayet of Delhi, travelling to Beejapoor, on business of my own—a stranger—a poor stranger."
"What business, Lalla?"
"My lord, we are merchants, and have dealings with people there for clothes and jewels. There is a dispute about the accounts, and I have come to settle them," said the Lalla glibly enough. It was one of the stories he had made up by the way.
"Who are the merchants?" asked the chief.
"The Gosais of the Mutt at Kullianee, where I was yesterday; they sent me on," replied the Lalla.
"O, hear!" cried Gopal Singh; "they knew nothing about thee, except that thou hadst a bill on them for a thousand rupees, and the money was given thee in gold. Is not this true? Did I not hear it myself?"
"Thou art no merchant, dog," exclaimed Pahar Singh. "Did ever merchant make an obeisance like that? Ah, we are true testers of gold here; the true and the false are soon found out. Who art thou? speak truly, and fear not."
"By the shrine at Muttra, by the Holy Mother, I am what I say,a poor Khayet, a Mutsuddee only. O noble sirs," continued the Lalla, "give me my property, and let me go. I will seek shelter in the bazar: let me go, for the love of your children."
"I beg to petition," interposed Lukshmun, joining his hands, "that, as I brought him, my share of the gold be given me before he goes. I took care of him on the road—did I not, master?"
"Silence!" roared the chief; "any one who speaks shall be flogged. Who art thou, O liar? Mutsuddee thou art, but whose? Thy speech betrays thee—beware!"
"I have told you, noble sir. Thakoor Das, Preym Das is the name of the firm; my name is Toolsee Das—Lalla Toolsee Das, your slave to command. Ask at Kullianee, and the house will be known there. I—I—am a poor man—a stranger; who knows me?" said the Lalla, now whimpering.
"A fool, a liar art thou, throwing away life," returned Gopal Singh. "This is the second time I have warned thee. We know thou art from the royal camp, and a spy to Beejapoor. Speak, else——"
"And the doom of a spy is death; and thou art a liar too, and a coward to boot. Look at him now, Gopala," said his uncle, interrupting and pointing to the man; "look at his coward face."
The Lalla was trembling violently. His knees shook, and his teeth chattered audibly as he shivered. He could not speak, but looked vacantly from one to another. "I am c-o-o-ld—c-o-o-o-ld," he said faintly; "the wet, sirs, and the long travel. Amān, amān! I am only a merchant, let me go."
"Thou art cold! then we will warm thee," cried the chief grimly. "Yet, speak, O Lalla, ere I give the order. We would not hurt thee without cause—otherwise——"
"Ai Narayun! Ai Rámchunder! believe me, I am no spy. I swear by God I am no spy," he replied earnestly.
"Bind him!" cried the chief furiously. "A liar and a spy. Make torches of his fingers! we will soon hear the truth."
Ere he knew what to do or say, the Lalla was a second time bound with his own shawl; and Lukshmun, tearing a rag into strips, and soaking them in the oil of the lamp, was tying them coolly upon the ends of his fingers, one by one. "I told you, Lallajee," he said, "we are rough people here, and you should be careful. When I light these you will not like the pain, and if you bear that, he will do something worse. When he says 'ch-ck, ch-ck,' you know——"
"Silence, knave! thou art over-familiar," cried Maun Singh; "beware!"
"Nay, but if I can save him from the torches, uncle," returned the hunchback, with a grotesque grin, "he will perhaps be grateful, and give his wealth to me."
"Is it ready?" asked the chief.
"Quite ready, my lord," answered Lukshmun, taking one of the lighted wicks from the large lamp between his finger and thumb, "For your life, speak, good fellow," he said earnestly and under his breath to the Lalla, "and save yourself this torture. One word more from him, and I dare not disobey; few bear it—speak!"
"O, my lord! my lord!" shrieked the Lalla, now comprehending what was intended, and throwing himself prostrate on the ground, "do not burn me alive. I will speak the truth. Why should I tell lies?"
"Very well," returned the chief, on whose lips the ominous foam speckles were now visible. "Very well, get up; it is thine own business. Thou hast not heard of our Dekhan customs, perhaps, else I had not wasted words on thee. Speak, who sent thee? Alumgeer? He cannot help thee now."
"He would have no mercy on me if he knew—if he had me in his power," murmured the Lalla. "Loose me, my lord, I am faint, and cannot speak; yet I will speak the truth. And should all these hear? My lord knows best. Loose me, and have these rags taken from my fingers."
"When thou hast told the truth, Lalla; not till then," said Pahar Singh, slowly. "Dost thou hear? Away, all of ye!" he cried to the attendants, who had crowded round the Lalla. "Keep the torch alight. Now, Lalla," he continued, as the man stood alone below the dais, "speak. Once more, and this is my last warning; if I hear any more lies I will end that coward life of thine."
"Beware!" added Gopal Singh, "I would not be as thou art with that lying tongue of thine—ugh! no, not for lakhs. Remember that he, my uncle, never relents."
"I would rather speak to ye alone," said the Lalla.
"We three are as one. Yet stay," added the chief. "Go thou, Amrut Rao, let him have his own chance for life—but remain without."
"Do any of ye know the seal of the Wuzeer of Beejapoor," said the Lalla, when they were alone, "or do ye know the writing of Sivaji, the Mahratta Rajah?" He spoke with great difficulty, for his mouth was parched and clammy, and his lips white.
"Nay, but Sivaji cannot write, Lalla. This is some fool's story. Beware, too, how thou takest the name of my lord the Wuzeer," said the chief sternly.
"My lord, my lord, with death before me and one chance for life, I cannot lie," returned the Lalla, sadly shaking his head. "My hands are tied; but if one of you will open that bag, there will be truth enough found in it to save me. There, Jemadar," he continued, as Gopal Singh opened the bag, "in the side pocket are two Persian letters, fastened up; look at them first; look at the seals. If I am wrong I am wrong—I am helpless, do as ye like with me; I am helpless."
"It is the Wuzeer's seal, his private seal, uncle," said Gopal Singh excitedly. "Of this there is no doubt; look at it yourself."
"Ai Ram! Ai Seeta Ram! what have we here? It is the seal truly," said Pahar Singh, looking at the impressions on both letters, and rocking himself to and fro.
"Do any of ye read Persian?" asked the Lalla; "if so, read for yourselves. I need not speak; they will speak for me."
"I will try, uncle," said Gopal Singh; "give me the letters. By Krishna, father!" he continued, breaking the silence, and after his eye had glanced over a few lines, "I would rather go into the thickest fight than read treachery like this. Narayun, keep us!"
"Ay, may the gods be merciful, Gopala! But what is it?—what is it?" said the chief eagerly.
"He would sell our kingdom of Beejapoor to the Padshah of Delhi, uncle——"
"People said so—people said so," said Pahar Singh, interrupting; "but I did not believe it. What more, my son?"
"Nay, the style is too courtly for me to make much of it, but both the letters are to the same effect. Where didst thou get these letters, Lalla?"
"Noble gentlemen, if ye are true to your King's salt," exclaimed the Lalla, seeing that he had made an impression on his hearers, "then I deserve naught but good at your hands. I am in the royal service; I saw the papers; I read what danger threatened Ali Adil Shah; I took them; I escaped from the camp with them, to carry them to him, and I am here. O, noble sirs, put me not to loss and shame!"
On the next few words hung the Lalla's life. It were easy to kill him and secure the papers. The Wuzeer had sent several urgent messages to Pahar Singh lately. He had a matter of moment, attended with great profit, to communicate. Was it about these letters? The Wuzeer would give lakhs for them. The very threat of disclosure to the King would extort any terms. Again, if he denied them—and what more easy than to counterfeit his seal, or use it upon forged papers? If he took this course, they would be in a false position: false to the King and to the Wuzeer,—and the King's threats had of late been very menacing. So, as theydeliberated, the Lalla's life hung in the balance, now ascending, now descending, in the eager consultation which the three men carried on in Canarese. The Lalla looked from one to another in piteous supplication, not daring to speak, his mouth parched, and trembling in every limb; for he felt this quick discussion, and the increasingly savage glances of the chief towards him, to be for life or for death.
"And this from Sivaji?" asked Gopal Singh, at length. "What of it, Lalla?"
"It was with the others, and there are some more of older date in the bag," he replied, "and of the Wuzeer's also. Sivaji's letters had to be translated to the Emperor: I had to copy the translations, and thus I came to know their contents. Noble sirs, I am telling no lies; look at the seal. They said in the Dufter it was Sivaji Bhóslay's. I do not know it myself."
"Keep the others close, and show this to Amrut Rao," said the chief. "Here," he continued, as the Karkoon, being called, advanced, "look at this; what dost thou make of it?"
The Karkoon looked at the seal and started. "May I open it?" he said.
"Yes, read it to us," said the chief.
He read it over slowly twice.
"Well, what is it?" asked his master.
"What Moro Trimmul wrote from Tooljapoor—what they asked you, my lord, to join in; and here is your name with five thousand men in figures after it, and the Wuzeer's with a lakh."
"Is it genuine, think you? that is what we want to know," said Gopal Singh.
"Certainly," replied the Karkoon; "there is the private mark on the seal, and the signature 'Hé Venunti'—'this supplication'—is all the Maharaj can write. No one could forge that, it is too crooked. How did that man get it?"
"He stole it, Amrut Rao," said the chief; "and we are discussing whether he ought to live or to die. What dost thou think?"
"As a traitor to the salt he has eaten, he ought to die, master," said the Karkoon, looking at the Lalla, who felt that his fate was in the Brahmun's hands,—"but——"
"That is just what I said! he is not fit to live," interrupted the chief. "Let him die. Ho!"
"But"—continued the Karkoon in Canarese, persistently interrupting the chief, and waving back Lukshmun, Rama, and others, who were advancing—"if I may speak. He says he wants to take them to Beejapoor. Let him have his own way. A bargain may be made with Ali Adil Shah through his secretary the Meerza—not by him" (and he pointed to the Lalla), "but by us. The letters willnot alter the matter one jot, and my lord can act as he pleases afterwards. We can send people with the Lalla."
"Excellently spoken, Amrut Rao; ye have all better brains than I have. Then the papers are valuable?" said Pahar Singh.
"Yes, my lord, if properly vouched for; and the man who stole them can give a better account of them than we can. The King might give any money—a lakh of rupees—for them. He already more than suspects the Wuzeer and Sivaji Bhóslay of being in league with the Emperor, and would rejoice to get such proofs of their treachery."
"Hark ye, Lalla," cried the chief, changing the language to Oordoo, which he spoke well, "what didst thou expect to get for these papers? What is the price of them?"
"My lord," he replied, simpering and putting up his joined hands, "they may be worth lakhs—so the Gosais at Kullianee told me—anything I liked to ask. They will negotiate the matter with the secretary and the King for me; and if my lord would only condescend to assist, I—I—would give—yes, he might be sure of a share."
"I of a share!—of a bribe! Artthoufeeding me with a bribe? O base dog, and son of a dog! Pig! I a share? O Lalla, thou art surely mad, and fated to eat dirt. Enough of this! Ho, without!—Lukshmun!—hunchbacks!—away with him; give him the handkerchief in the outer court. Quick!" roared Pahar Singh, relapsing into fury.
"Uncle! father! not now," cried Gopal Singh, entreatingly, and touching his feet; then rising and stepping forward with joined hands, "calm thyself. Not to-day, when I am safe; not to-day, when I promised him life! Give his life to me for this day; after that, as thou wilt."
"It is valuable, my lord," added Amrut Rao. "These papers cannot tell their own story. Where could we say we got them? He must go with them to authenticate them. Gopal Singh and I can go to the city with him, and, after all, he deserves well of Ali Adil Shah, though he has been a traitor to his own King. Give him to us, my lord; we may get good out of him."
"No," said the chief, after a moment's pause, "no, Rao Sahib, I will go myself. I will see the end of this matter. Thou shalt come with me, Maun Singh; and we can work through thy brother, Amrut Rao. A lakh, saidst thou, O Lalla? Well, I will give thee a share if thou art true. And now I give thy life to thee—buksheesh!—a free gift—a new life, O Lalla. See that thou make good use of it, for what I give I can recall. Go: they will see to thy food and comfort, and thou wilt eat in a Rajpoot's house of the race of the Sun."
The Lalla would have said something about his gold and his horse; the words were in his mouth, and it was well, perhaps, hecould not speak. The revulsion was too great for him, from life to apparently imminent death, and again from death to life. Weary with travel and faint with hunger, he had sunk down insensible, and they carried him away into the court.
"The King has been seeking my life, friends, for some time past," said the chief musingly. "Perhaps it would be well to use these papers—that is—— Yes," he continued, "I have eaten his salt—I and my father—and we eat it now. My heart revolts at this treachery, and we can be faithful with many another. Let us rouse the boy. There should be good stuff in Mahmood Adil Shah's son, and I will try it. As for the Wuzeer, I know what he would have me do, but I will not say it, else should we have been left quiet so long, and the army so near us? Stay ye here, Gopal and Amrut Rao. If he send for me, go to him at Nuldroog; 'tis but a ride. Go and take his money, then come to me at the city. I shall be in the old place; and bring the hunchbacks with you, there may be work for them."
The Lalla recovered as they carried him gently into the open air, and bathed his face with water.
"Ah!" said Lukshmun, who was the most active of his attendants, and was unbinding the shawl, "see what care I take of thee, O Lalla; better your fingers are sound than roasted; better your neck straight than twisted; better have to eat good food here—it is so good—than have thy mouth filled with mud and water in the river yonder——"
"My gold, my gold!" gasped the Lalla, interrupting him, "who has got it? at least get that for me."
"He has got it," replied the hunchback, pointing with his thumb backwards. "Better he, than I or my brother; we should only spend it—he won't. Thy star is bright to-night, Lallajee. When thou art set free do not forget us, that's all. Come."
They conducted him to a small chamber within, where two decently-clad women awaited them—slaves or servants—and informed the Lalla that a bath had been prepared for him, and food would be served to him in the eating-room.
We are assured, therefore, that the Lalla was left in good hands. There was perhaps a shade too much garlic in the cookery, he thought; but he was not particular, and appetite returned with absence of fear. When he had finished, he was summoned to the chief, and it was not without apprehension that he went; but he was now received kindly, though with a rough sort of civility, and motioned to sit near Gopal Singh. So assured, the Lalla's habitual confidence soon returned, and he took his part, with much ability, in the discussion that followed, in which his information in regard to the Emperor's designs was most valuable.
How the consultation ended will hereafter appear in another locality, to which we must now transport our readers.
The Azân, or evening call to prayers, had just ceased throughout Beejapoor. From mosque to mosque, and minaret to minaret, the sonorous and musical voices of the Muezzins had proclaimed the evening invitation to worship. It was still light, though the vivid hues of sunset were fading fast, and the warm red and orange tints, which had rested upon the minarets, domes, and gilded pinnacles of the palaces, mosques, and mausoleums of the superb city, were giving place to a sober grey. Here and there a star already twinkled in the heavens, and a few rosy clouds, on which the sun's rays rested lingeringly, floated away eastwards before a gentle breeze, that rustled among the tall palm trees. For a time the busy hum of the populous city seemed to be hushed, and the stillness and seclusion of the spot we have to describe, prompted those feelings of devotion which the time required.
It was one of those small yet elegant mosques, which are found scattered everywhere about the ruins that now exist, surrounded by enclosures that were once gardens, in which broken fountains and dry watercourses now only suggest visions of their former elegance and comfort, and where low brushwood and tangled grass have displaced the fragrant flowers and useful fruit trees of former days. Here and there a jessamine, now wild, trails over ruined walls and once trim garden terraces, or a long-lived hardy lime tree struggles for existence in the unwatered soil.
At the period of our tale, however, the building was in its full freshness and beauty. A single arch, of low Saracenic form, led into a square room vaulted by delicate groins, leading from the corners to the base of a cupola above. The floor was formed of chequers of black and white marble, highly polished; and the sides of the room, deeply indented by arched niches, were finished with stucco, which rivalled the marble in polish and purity of colour. Around the largest niche, at the end opposite to the entrance, and the arch in which the pulpit stood, were borders of delicate arabesque foliage, into which texts from the Kôrán, in coloured enamel letters, were skilfully and elegantly interwoven; while above the pulpit itself, in gold letters on a black ground, was the Arabic text, "La Alla, il Alla, Mahomed russool Alla;" "There is no God but one God, and Mahomed is the prophet of God." Two plain cotton carpets, striped red and white, had been placed before the pulpit, to be used by those who might come to the evening prayer.
Outside, the front of the mosque was composed of the dark-coloured basalt used in all the buildings of the city, beautifully finished as to the fitting of the stones, on which bold cornices androsettes had been executed round the entrance arch, and about the projecting portion which supported the small minarets. Immediately above the archway, broad stone eaves crossed the face of the building, resting upon deep and richly carved brackets of black basalt, surmounted by a bold cornice, over which were fleurs-de-lis, forming the upper ornament. Under the projecting eaves, and on the crest of the entrance arch, were bright flowers in coloured enamel, bordered by frames of delicate white stucco work, which relieved the rich but monotonous tint of the stone, without disturbing the chaste effect of the whole. In the centre of the terrace, before the mosque, was a small fountain, for the purpose of ablution, which threw up a tiny thread of water to some height in the air, descending in a shower of light spray, and producing a faint, plashing sound, very grateful to the ear.
Above the mosque, and mingling with its slender minarets and thin gilded spires, a few cocoa-nut trees waved their graceful pendant leaves; and with them the heavy foliage of the fragrant moulserry, and the broad leaf of the plantain, with its tender yet vivid green, formed an harmonious contrast. Nearer the terrace was a group of orange trees, some weighed down by clusters of golden fruit, others covered with blossom, which, with the tuberoses around the fountain, and the evening jessamine now opening, gave forth to the cool evening air a fragrance almost overpowering. By day, the sun hardly ever reached the mosque, and it always appeared invitingly cool and quiet; but at this evening hour, shadow was rapidly deepening into gloom, adding a solemn effect which enhanced the beauty of this secluded spot.
Two persons stood by the fountain. They had just performed their ablutions, as the last quivering chant of the Muezzin, "La illa, il Ulla," issuing from the tall minaret of one of the neighbouring mosques, floated to them on the soft breeze: yet they appeared to hesitate ere they entered the mosque for the evening prayer. One of them was an elderly woman, clad as befitted the position of the favourite nurse and confidential female servant of a wealthy house, in a blue cotton petticoat of thick but fine texture, over which, and around her body and head, was a white muslin scarf. Her features were homely, yet good-natured, and she evidently regarded her companion,—who merits a fuller description,—with pride mingled with deep affection.
And, in truth, there were few fairer maidens in Beejapoor, even among the wealthy and high-born nobles, than Zyna, the only daughter of Afzool Khan. Her features might be called irregular, according to any European standard, but they were soft and inexpressibly charming; and in her large lustrous eyes, of the deepest brown, there lurked a world of deep feeling which the excitement oflife would call into action. About her rounded chin and small mouth, whose full and bow-shaped lips had somewhat of a voluptuous expression, there played a thousand charms, which, though they might not disclose themselves or be observed while her features were at rest, yet, as her first timid reserve gave place to the excitement of conversation or passing incident, exercised a strange but irresistible fascination over those about her.
She was very fair for her country. Her mother's bright Georgian complexion was but little deepened in her daughter's richer and browner cast of colour; the skin appeared to possess that transparent softness which gave a bewitching charm to the delicate yet decided features; and her cheeks and neck flushed, under any excitement, with a warmth which told of her southern and more excitable temperament. Whenever she spoke, the upper lip was raised higher than usual, disclosing a rosy mouth, with teeth which glistened like pearls, even and small; and from the absence of any ornament in the nostril, it was evident that, as yet, no marriage rite had been performed. Her age might be fourteen, or even less; but her figure, from its rounded proportions and grace, would have induced a presumption that she was older.
Yet it would have been only a passing thought. One look at that innocent, almost childish face—where, though full of bright intelligence, the world had as yet fixed no stamp of care to check the natural joyousness of her spirit—would have dispelled it instantly; and if the habitual brightness was sometimes dimmed, it was but as the breath upon a mirror—the passing shadow of some gentle disappointment, which enhanced the beauty as it passed away.
There was no mark of rank or wealth about her, except in the solid gold anklets of heavy chainwork she wore, which fitted closely over her high bare instep: a ring of gold hanging loosely about her neck, and a rosary of large pearls usually worn there, but which were now passing rapidly, and apparently mechanically, through her fingers, as if the thoughts that urged them were somewhat agitated. There was, too, a slight knitting of the brow while she idly, and perhaps somewhat impatiently, dabbled with one naked foot in the water which was welling over the rim of the fountain, sending circles of small wavelets over its otherwise unruffled surface, as she looked eagerly to the entrance-door of the garden as if in expectation of some one. As she stood thus upon a step, her foot resting upon the raised rim of the fountain—the vivid scarlet of her satin petticoat, and the white of the fine muslin scarf which, wound about her person, and passed over her head—were reflected in its trembling waters; and, with the mosque and dark trees behind her, and the figure of the old nurse sitting on the step at her feet, a picture was formed such as no man could have looked on without emotion, and admiration of a being so eminently lovely.
"You are my witness, Goolab," she said at length, looking down on the nurse, "that he said he would come to evening prayer, and that I have waited thus long. The time is passing fast, and you know this is the second night he has disappointed me. O, that he may not be careless to God's service! He used not to be so. But I am not angry with him, nurse," she continued, looking down to the attendant; and as she spoke, every trace of displeasure, if it had ever existed, disappeared at once before her habitual good humour and sweet smile; "he never disappointed me, that he had not some very good reason for staying away—and yet——"
"Nay, my soul," returned the woman, "the Azân is but just said, and there is yet ample time for prayer; the carpets have not been half spread in the Jumma Mosque yet. Why should you be impatient? But listen, was I not right? My young lord comes, so think him faithless no longer."
As she spoke the door of the garden court opened, and with a cry of joy Zyna sprang to meet her brother, as with rapid steps he traversed the garden, and ascended the low terrace before the mosque.
Still of tender age, Fazil Khan was already a remarkable figure. The down of youth had not yet hardened upon his lip and chin; but his tall athletic frame, and erect and confident carriage, proved him to have been engaged in the actions, if not the strife, of the world. His animated features strongly resembled his sister's, but with a sterner and bolder cast of expression, while his colour was much darker. A large grey eye, with remarkably long lashes, which he had from his mother, increased their grave, thoughtful, yet tender, and perhaps almost mournful, expression; the same sweet smile as Zyna's played about his mouth as he returned her joyous welcome, while his glistening eye and excited manner proved that something unusual had occurred, not only to delay him, but to cause an emotion he could not well repress.
"Ah, thou art a sad truant, Fazil," said Zyna, as, after their first greeting, he laid aside his sword and shield, loosened his waist-band, and prepared to perform his ablutions; "armed, too, more heavily than usual, while thy face tells me thou hast met with some recent adventure. Thou hast not been in danger.... Fazil, my brother!"
"Danger!" echoed the youth; "if to walk the streets of Beejapoor amidst contending factions, where one can hardly tell a friend from an enemy, be danger, why then, dear sister, I have had my share even now. But, trust me, there is no real danger to me. Come then to prayer, for the Azân is said, and the light already fails us."
So saying, they ascended the mosque steps together. Their carpets were already spread, and they at once engaged in the service of the evening, well known to the youth, but in the performance of which, his sister was as yet only his gentle and docile pupil.
It would seem that their appearance, as they descended the steps of the mosque together after the prayer was finished, and came out again upon the terrace by the fountain, had more than ordinarily attracted the nurse's attention, for she advanced, and passing her hands rapidly over them from head to foot, pressed her knuckles against her temples; and as they cracked loudly, ejaculated a fervent wish for a thousand years' life and prosperity to each. Such acts are common to the privileged native servants of India, and old Goolab had been their faithful attendant since they were born, and had carefully watched their growth. Both loved her warmly, and there was nothing either would have grudged, to soothe the declining years of their old favourite.
"Enough, enough, Goolab," cried Fazil, as, after several repetitions of the ceremony we have just mentioned, she stroked his chin with her fingers, and kissed their tips; "what evil do you think has come to me that you take it on yourself?"
"Alas, I know not!" said the nurse, sighing; and as she spoke her eyes filled with tears; "but my lord said there had been danger, and I would not have it so. And what evil glances may not have been cast on my beautiful child all through the streets to-day?"
The youth made a slight gesture of impatience, but it was lost on the fond old woman. Checking the feeling which had prompted it, he cried cheerfully, "No, no, Goolab, believe me, I meant no more than ordinary danger; are we not always in it? And who can tell the hour of his death?" he added after a pause, and looking reverently upwards; "or whether it is to come by a bullet or a sword-cut, long wasting fever or sudden sickness; nay, here as we stand! When the message comes we cannot stay."
"Hush, say not so, brother," said Zyna, gently laying her hand upon his mouth; "talk not so of death."
"Nay, my rose, he says but the truth," added Goolab; "and who knew it better, than the pure saint your mother, who sleeps yonder? Well, it was God's will, and who shall gainsay it? Meah is right, my pet, but death should not be sent to the like of you; only to the old servant who is ripe for the harvest——"
"We linger," said Fazil to his sister, interrupting her; "and the darkness is fast spreading. I have much to do ere midnight, and I must go to prepare for it. I will meet thee at the evening meal before I start——Yet once more to take leave of thee, O mother!" he said to himself; "there may be danger to-night, and if it should be——Come, Zyna," he resumed, "a few flowers for the tomb, and I must go. Get a light, Goolab—the lamp may as well be lighted now."
"I had placed them before you came, Fazil; but come; again may she look down on her children together," said his sister.
So saying, she gathered a few jessamine and moulserry flowers and, with her brother following, passed to the end of the garden court, where, among some others, stood a high tomb of polished black stone, with a pillar at the back in which was a niche for lamps that were lighted every evening.
Reverently and tenderly were the fresh flowers laid at the head and feet of the tomb by both. One could see no morbid motive in the act, and there were no tears or vain regret. Their creed, imbued as it is with fatalism, had taught them submission, and the offering up of flowers every evening after the Azân, as the lamps were lighted, had become a simple duty, never committed to others. If those two loving and simple hearts believed that their mother's spirit was thus rejoiced, it will account to us for that constant remembrance of the dead which is so affecting, and generally so sincere, among the Mahomedan families of India.
"Come," said Fazil, "we must not delay; though indeed, O sweet mother! I could stay long with thee to-night," he added, touching the foot of the grave gently, and raising his hand to his head. "I kiss thy feet, O mother! may thy blessing rest upon me. Be not far from us, O beloved! Come, Goolab, give me the lamp, and I will place it myself to-night."
"What ails the boy?" said the nurse to herself, as Fazil advanced with the lamp, lighted the others, and placed it in the niche with the customary prayer. "What ails him to-night? Truly there is danger, and he has done all those things himself that he may meet her——If it be the will of Alla, who can gainsay it? but not so, O Protector!" she muttered; "not so. I vow Fatehas at the mosque next Friday if he is spared," she said inwardly, weeping.
Fazil's errand was done, and as he turned he saw the old nurse wiping her eyes. "Ah, weeping, Goolab?" he said. "No, no, that is of no use now."
"No, Meah, truly of no use," she replied; "but memory is often too much for me when I think upon her. Yet I will not weep—of what use would it be?"
"None, old nurse, none; come, get me my dinner, for I have much to do ere midnight."
"Will our father join us?" asked Zyna.
"I think not; I left him engaged with affairs of importance with the King's secretary in the Durbar, and he did not speak of return. I will wait a little for him, but should I not see him, thou must tell him, Zyna, that I am gone on the King's business. But hurry the dinner; I go only to give a few orders, and I will be with thee presently."
So saying he left them, and quitted the garden by another door which led to the outer court, where the guard-houses allotted to theretainers of his father's house were situated. Goolab followed to bar the door after him, which was kept closed on the inside, and, returning to Zyna, said, "Did he tell thee what he was going to do, my life?"
"No," said Zyna sadly; "he would not tell me, nurse, and I dared not ask him. He said he would explain all by-and-by, and he will. I know he will," she added, clapping her hands; "he always trusts me."
"I only hope he is in none of these plots that they say are going on," returned the nurse.
"What plots, Goolab?" asked Zyna with apprehension.
"O, I know not," replied the old woman, with a puzzled air, and passing her hand across her eyes; "only people in the bazar say so; and the Bangle woman, after she had put on your new set the other day, said something about the Mahrattas and Sivaji Bhóslay."
"O, the Kafirs!" cried Zyna, laughing; "I have no fear for them, if that is all. I was afraid of worse. But come, or we shall keep him waiting."
Entering another small court, in which there was a stone porch formed of pillars connected by arches, supporting a dome in the shape of half an octagon, projecting from a side-wall, which served as a private place of audience—Fazil passed through a farther door into one of the large exterior courts of the mansion, which contained an open hall composed of a triple row of pointed arches covering a large space. Generally, it was filled with the better classes of horse-soldiers; Silladars, or cavaliers who rode their own horses and sat there when not on duty; also by the officers and men of the young Khan's own guard: and occasionally was used by his father when were held great ceremonies, festivals, or rejoicings in the house.
On the three other sides of the court were arches or cloisters, slightly raised from the ground, in which lounged or slept soldiers of all classes, on duty or otherwise, generally collected into groups, playing at chess, or pacheese, or cards, singing, or telling stories. Just then, however, most were idle; for the lamps, which stood in niches in the centre of each arch, had not been lighted. The large hall was nearly empty; but in one corner a group of Karkoons, or clerks, sat with a large brass lamp in the midst of them, occupied with accounts, and making fair copies of letters to be despatched by that night's post.
All the men assembled here were strictly the retainers of the house;for the guard of troops belonging to the King had another post in a different court, and were comparatively few in number. Afzool Khan's household force, or Päègah, as it was called, was supported out of royal estates, granted or assigned for the purpose. It belonged strictly to the royal service, but the men looked to their own lord for employment and maintenance, followed him to the field, and were for the most part hereditary retainers, with no claim upon, or expectation from, royal favour. Such was the condition and constitution of the greater portion of native armies at the period of our tale, and such it continues to be in native states where troops are maintained.
Fazil Khan was the idol of his men, both Moslems and Hindus. His martial exercises had begun early, and he had proved an apt scholar. Any of the men who particularly excelled in the use of a particular weapon had, in turn, the young noble for his pupil; and in all field accomplishments necessary to the soldier and gentleman of those days, the young Khan was well skilled. No doubt these, and his daily systematic exercises, had developed a frame always strongly knit; and his broad deep chest, round muscular arms, and thin flanks, amply testified strength and activity.
On horseback with the Mahratta spear or matchlock, it was no hyperbole to say that, at full gallop, he could pick up a tent-peg driven into the ground with the former, or shatter one at a fair distance with a bullet from the other. Such martial accomplishments never fail to gain the respect and attachment of an inferior soldiery; and when to these were added a disposition open and cheerful, somewhat hasty perhaps at times, but in reality generous and affectionate,—a hearty frank manner, which few could resist, and a countenance, not strictly handsome, but which expressed all this and even more,—it will not be thought strange, that the young Khan should have become a universal favourite with his retainers, and the especial darling and idol of a few.
Chief, perhaps, among the latter, was Bulwunt Rao Bhóslay, who held rank in the Päègah as Duffadar, or leader of a small "duffa," or subdivision of men. He was a Mahratta of good, nay, originally noble family—a Silladar, or cavalier who maintained not only his own horse but five others, with which, mounted by dependants of his own, he had originally visited the capital and joined the service of Afzool Khan.
Him, had the young Khan selected as his especial instructor in the use of the sword; for at the annual festivals and games before the King's palace, Bulwunt Rao's feats of slicing betel-nut on the ground, cutting a lime in two on the palm of a man's hand, or a ripe guava on his head, were unrivalled; and their yearly repetition was looked for by the people with great interest, and always rewarded by hearty acclamations.
Bulwunt Rao was worthy of his young lord's confidence. Daring and resolute, he had already led Fazil Khan into the midst of some sharp cavalry affairs with the Moghuls, and brought him forth safe, while he himself had been wounded several times in protecting him from sword-cuts. Wily, yet full of energy, if there were any necessity for action, open and frank in his manner, he had early won his young lord's affectionate regard, which he very heartily returned, while he rejoiced, with all a soldier's pride, to see him growing up as manly and true of heart as his boyhood had promised.
Fazil's arrival among those assembled—so suddenly, and at an hour when he usually withdrew to the zenana and his studies—caused no little excitement among the men, and they eagerly crowded round him for the news which he might have to tell them.
"What tidings hast thou for us, Meah Sahib?" cried a fine bearded fellow of his own tribe of Pathans, also a favourite. "May thy prestige increase! but there should be something by thy look,—a march against those zenana dogs of Moghuls, or a fray over the border against Golconda."
"A hunt of Moghuls!" echoed several. "What better sport, Meah? There are some pickings of Delhi gold to be got in their waist-bands and pockets."
"And what has my lord for his servants to perform?" asked Bulwunt Rao, now advancing with his usual easy yet deferential manner. "Speak but the word, and we are in our saddles directly. Shall I order the Nagara to be beaten, and cry to horse!"
"Not so, Bulwunt," said the young man, taking him aside; "what I have to say is for your ear alone. Come into the private court and listen."
"For me alone, Meah?" returned Bulwunt Rao, laughing. "What brawl have you fallen into? whom have you slain to-day, sir?"
"Let us all follow if ye are going out," cried several others; "don't leave us behind."
"We have had nothing to do for a month," added one.
"And our swords have lost their edges, Meah," shouted several.
"Peace, all of ye," exclaimed the young Khan; "let no one follow us. This is no fighting matter. Am I wont to plunge into street brawls, Bulwunt Rao?"
"We were none of us with you, my lord, to-day," cried several, "and it is not safe for you to be alone in the streets in these times."
"I had others of the King's, and was quite safe," returned Fazil; "but come, Bulwunt, if you are fit to listen to me; I only fear that ganja pipe of yours is at fault, and your brain is hardly clear. If not, I had as well hold my tongue; yet I had rather trust you, old friend," he continued seriously, "than any other."
Fazil's altered tone and manner had their effect upon his companion. "Wait for a moment, Meah," he said, "I will join you instantly;" and so saying, he ran quickly back to the spot where he had left his carpet, seized a brass vessel of cool water, poured some into his hand and dashed it upon his face, then swallowed several rapid and deep gulps, and returned. "Now, I am fit to listen to the words of the holy Krishna himself if he were on earth; therefore speak on, Meah Sahib, and behold your servant ready to think for you, or to fight for you, as you please!"
"Ay, there is some soberness about you now, Bulwunt," said the young man; "less redness about the eyes, and they are looking straight out of your head, instead of rolling about in it. Now, can I trust you not to prate of this matter before the people yonder, or over the ganja pipe——"
"Nay, Meah, be merciful, and pardon me for once," said Bulwunt, closing his hands and putting them up to his forehead; "the ganja has grown on me, but not to the discredit of my faithfulness, Meah; and when I smoke I never talk. Now, say on, I will be silent as death."
Fazil proceeded some paces through the court without replying to his retainer, and tried the garden door, but it was fastened inside. "We must be content here," he said. "Go, shut the door, we shall at least be safe from interruption."
"In the name of all the gods, Meah," said Bulwunt Rao, as he returned and sat down on the step of the porch beside Fazil, "what hast thou to say to me? Why all this need of caution? Has the Wuzeer revolted, or what?"
"Silence," returned Fazil, "hear me. In one word, you are a Mahratta—is Tannajee Maloosray known to you?"
The question seemed for an instant to stun the faculties of the hearer. He passed his hand dreamily across his forehead and eyes, and, pausing, seemed to gasp. Fazil thought it might be a sudden dizziness—the consequence of the strong narcotic he had been smoking—and was about to ask him, when Bulwunt Rao spoke.
"Tannajee Maloosray! Meah? Do I know Maloosray? Ay, truly, Khan; as the wild dog and the wolf, as the wild boar and the tiger know each other, so do I know Tannajee Maloosray. The destroyer of my house, the usurper of my possessions, the plunderer of my ancestral wealth. Yes, there is a feud between us which can be washed out only by blood. Listen, Meah," continued Bulwunt Rao, and he got up and walked rapidly to and fro: "hast thou time to hear a short story about Tannajee?"
"Yes, speak on. I am listening."
"I was a youth," continued Bulwunt, "younger than you are by several years, when Maloosray aimed his blow at my family. Myfather was dead; had he lived, Tannajee dared not have done it. My uncle, Govind Rao, was a timid man, looking only to the farms and to money-making while he lived. At last he died also. But he left another brother, Ramdeo, whom we loved much, and he took care of us all. My younger brother, Seeta Ram—why speak of him, Meah? he would have been as beautiful as thou art—and some of the women and myself, all lived together in the old house. They came at midnight, Tannajee and a band of his Mawullees. I do not remember much, Meah; but look here;" and he took off his turban and showed a deep scar on his shaved head. "That is what I fell from, under a blow of his sword. I don't think," he continued dreamily, "that I have been quite right in my brain since, but it does not matter.
"Next morning there were seven stark corpses in the house, and great pools of blood. My uncle, my grandmother, two servants—how can I say it?—yes, my mother and my little brother, and my mother's sister, who was a widow. One blow of a sword had killed my brother and my mother. He was in her arms, and had clung to her. Enough; who could have done this but Maloosray? There is not a sword in all Maharástra which could have struck such a blow as that was—but Maloosray's.
"When I recovered consciousness in the morning, the women that remained, and some servants, were wailing over the dead, but they were barely alive from terror. Neighbours however came in, and some of our tenants and servants, and the place was cleaned up. In the evening there were seven piles made near the river for the seven corpses, and they were burned. My wound had been sewn up by the barber, and I was carried to perform the last ceremonies, and I then swore upon their ashes to revenge them, and I will yet do it. Now, by thy father's salt, tell me what thou knowest of that villain Maloosray, and how his name comes into thy mouth?"
"And was nothing done for justice, Bulwunt? Was justice dead in that country?" asked Fazil, deeply interested.
"Justice!" echoed Bulwunt Rao, "justice! Ah, Meah, what can the poor do for justice? All the wealth of the house had been plundered. Maloosray had brought a hundred of his brethren in that Duróra, and he had promised them the plunder. His object was my life, but the gods spared it, and I came here to serve the King, till—till Tannajee is dead, or till I kill him, Meah! That is the only justice I want: that, and the land he took from me. I thought to tell thee all some day, and now I have said it; but, by thy soul, tell me how Maloosray's name is known to thee, and why?"
"Should you know him again, Bulwunt, if you saw him?" asked Fazil.
"Know him, Meah—among a thousand—among a thousand. It is years since we met; but, before that quarrel with my father aboutthe land, he came to us often, for he was my mother's relative. He hunted large game on our hills, when I went with him, and I was a great favourite of his. Most of the sword-play I know, he taught me. Know him? Yes. That night I, a stripling, crossed swords with him. I had wounded one of his men, and he heard the cry. He had been seeking for me. What could I do, Meah, a weak boy, among a crowd of screaming women? Yet I crossed swords with him; and there are few alive who would dare to do so. Forget him? No, I should know him among a thousand. His eyes, Meah, his eyes! Hast thou seen them?"
"Nay, I have not seen them yet, Bulwunt; but I think I know where he is to be found," returned Fazil.
"Here, Meah? in Beejapoor? Tannajee Maloosray in the city?"
"Yes, here. You are always rambling about the city at night, and know all the mudud khanas; canst thou guide me to one Rama's shop—Rama of Ashtee? It is in the great kullal's bazar, and near a Hindu temple."
"I know it, Meah; I know it well. Rama sells the best ganja in Beejapoor. Yes, I can take you there, but not in those clothes."
"Not now. Let the night wear on a little; they will not be there till just before midnight," replied Fazil; "and we have to watch the temple, too. Is there one near Rama's, with trees about it? Some people meet there first, and then go to Rama's."
"Yes, Meah, there is the temple of Dévi, in the plain beyond, among the tamarind trees; a lonely place it is, and Byragees put up there. Yes, I know it."
"Then I am right," continued Fazil, "for I saw it myself to-day. Now, as Maloosray is desperate, should we not take some picked men with us? There is Raheem Khan, and——"
"Men?—to take Maloosray?" cried Bulwunt. "O Meah, you are simple to think it. Maloosray will have twenty, aye fifty, spies out, and old Rama is chief of them. One soldier a coss off, and Tannajee would be warned. But why go, Meah?" he continued, after a pause. "I will take my own men and bring him. O," cried Bulwunt, speaking through his teeth and to himself, "for one good chance and a fair field with him now!"
"No, Bulwunt, I must go; it is the King's business," returned Fazil; "besides Persian may be spoken, and you do not understand it."
"Persian, my lord? then this is a Moghul affair?"
"I cannot say, friend," returned Fazil; "all I have discovered is, that Maloosray will be in the temple, or in the mudud khana, and a 'Lalla.' There is no good, I am sure, at the bottom of it, and we must find out what it is. We know the Moghul emissaries are busy, and it is important to check their plots."
"And Sivaji Bhóslay's also, Meah, they bode no good; for mypeople write to me that he and Tannajee have leagued together, and——; in short, they write foolish things, sir."
"Bhóslay? that is your family name, Bulwunt," said Fazil, musing.
"Yes," he replied, "and we are of the same house; but he is rich and I am poor. And now people tell wonderful things of him; how the Mother—that is, Bhowani, speaks in him sometimes, and he prophesies great events. One thing is certain, Meah, Sivaji Bhóslay is no friend to Beejapoor, nor to any Mussulman; and if Maloosray has come here for him, it is with some object which is worth the risk to discover."
"Then they are friends?" asked Fazil.
"Ay, Meah, as thou and I, and nearer still. Maloosray believes Sivaji to be an incarnation of the gods, and would give his life for him. So, too, many another; and the people have begun to write ballads about him, which are sung in Beejapoor even sometimes, and they set one's blood dancing. No wonder the people of the wild valleys love them; wild places, Meah, which ye know little of as yet."
"Yes, it is worth the risk to find out what is doing. One thread of those dark intrigues in my hand and I am not my father's son if I do not discover more," replied Fazil; "but you said we should be disguised."
The Mahratta thought for a moment. "What sayest thou, Meah, to becoming a Hindu for the time? I could paint the marks on thy forehead. Nay," he continued, as he saw the young man shrink from the idea, "they will only be very temporary 'abominations,' as the old Khan calls them, and water will remove them when we return."
"Good," returned Fazil. "I will suffer 'the abominations' in the cause of the Shah and the faith. And, now, begone. I will come to thee here, after the evening meal, and we can dress unobserved. But swear on my neck, Bulwunt, no more ganja to-night."
"No, no, Meah," returned the man, laughing, and touching his young lord's neck and feet; "I swear I will not touch it. We both need cool heads for this work, and I will not fail you."
"Then go," added Fazil. "I will send Goolab to you when I am ready."