THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 ROMANCE OF HISTORY. 
 
 INDIA.
 
 THE 
 
 ROMANCE OF HISTORY 
 
 INDIA 
 
 BY 
 
 THE REV. HOBART GAUNTER, B.D. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 C. ARTHUR PEARSON, LIMITED 
 
 HENRIETTA STREET 
 
 iSqg
 
 'PR 
 
 P R E F ACE. 
 
 THE Romance of the History of India is one of a series oJ 
 historical tales founded on the histories of England, France, 
 Spain, Italy, and India, which obtained great popularity when first 
 published. 
 
 The copyright of them having passed to the present Publishers, 
 hey have been induced to reproduce them in a compact form — 
 complete in a single volume — in the belief that by so doing they 
 will be adding to the literary pleasure of another generation. 
 
 PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION. 
 
 The success of the several series of " Romance of History " 
 already published has induced the Publishers of that work 
 to extend it in order to embrace a portion of history generally 
 considered extremely exuberant in romantic features. The present 
 series will be confined to the Mahomedan conquests in India, in 
 the records of which are to be found numerous events o-f signal 
 and stirring interest, which, while they develope the character of 
 a distant people in a remote age, serve also to confirm many fine 
 axioms of moral truth by exhibiting how, under all the variations 
 of clime and fluctuations of circumstance, the great result of 
 human actions is everywhere the same. 
 
 This being a portion of history with which the general reader is 
 less familiar than with that embraced in the preceding series of 
 this work, the choice has been made under the impression that it 
 may lead to a more extended reading of those annals which con- 
 tain some of the most interesting facts to be found in the records 
 of ages. 
 
 But while I feel that the subject is an important one, I have 
 not been insensible to the difficulties with which it is encompassed.
 
 w PREFACE. 
 
 and in proportion to the success of those volumes already before 
 the public hais my consciousness of these difficulties been raised, 
 for, feeling that I have had greater impediments i;o success to 
 overcome, I cannot but be less sanguine in the expectation that I 
 have realized what has been so well done by my predecessors in 
 a similar field. 
 
 Romantic as are many of the events which the Mahomedan 
 annals supply, they are nevertheless all of one tone and colouring. 
 They want the delightful blendings and tintings of social circum- 
 stances. Their princes were despots, their nobles wamors, their 
 governments tyrannies, and their people slaves. The lives of their 
 most eminent men, who were distinguished chiefly for their deeds 
 in arms, present little else than a series of battles. Their principal 
 amusement was the chase, in which similar perils to those pre- 
 sented in war were courted for the stern glory which followed 
 desperate achievements. 
 
 If, therefore, in the following tales tne variety should appear 
 less than in those found in the volumes of the same work which 
 have preceded these, the cause, and consequently the excuse, must 
 he in the materials. Besides this, those beautiful features of 
 domestic life so frequently witnessed in our western world have 
 little or no existence in the land to which the present volumes are 
 devoted. Women confined in harems, and not admitted to the 
 tender and endearing enjoyments of family intercourse, degraded 
 below the dignity of their nature and of their reason, treated as 
 secondary beings, as mere instruments of pleasure, and as created 
 for no better purpose than to perpetuate the human race, are no 
 longer objects either for the rich colouring of romance or the 
 graver delineations of moral narrative. 
 
 Great variety of character is not to be found among those iso- 
 lated beings who are so well calculated to cast a glory upon the 
 human pilgrimage, — not that variety of character does not exist, 
 but it is not developed. All the pictures of life, therefore, among 
 such a community will necessarily possess a certain sameness 
 inseparable from their very nature. I have, however, endeavoured 
 to vary the materials as much as was consistent with the regime of 
 the history, though I sometimes found them very intractable. I 
 can scarcely hope that I have succeeded in a labour of no common 
 difficulty, but trust, nevertheless, that this last series of "Romantic 
 Tales of History " may not be found undeserving of public 
 patronage.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Traveller's Dream 
 The Idol of Somnat 
 The Royal Merchant , 
 The Abyssinian Slave . 
 The Rajpoot Marriags . 
 The Mahomed an Nimrod 
 The Rival Brothers 
 The Siege of Gualior . 
 The Pariah 
 
 The Defence of Chittore 
 The Light of the World 
 The Prince and the Fakeer 
 The Omrah's Daughter 
 The Revolt of the Fakeers 
 The Mahratta Chief . 
 
 3 
 23 
 
 71 
 
 lOO 
 
 125 
 
 167 
 203 
 240 
 
 266 
 304 
 
 335 
 393 
 424 
 45b 
 474
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 H^S- 35^' (a.d. 962.) — Aluptugeen, governor of Khorassan, broke out into 
 open rebellion and marched to Gliizny, which he subdued, and there established 
 an independent power. Munsoor, King of Bokhara, hearing of this defection, 
 conferred the goverrnrent of Khorassan upon Abool-Hussun Mahomed, son 
 of Ibrahim Sunjur Toorkoman, and thrice sent armies to attack Aluptugeen, 
 which were on both occasions defeated. Aluptugeen retained his independence 
 fifteen years, during which his general Subooktugeen frequently defeated the 
 Indians. 
 
 Heg. 365. (975.)— Aluptugeen died, and was succeeded by his son Aboo 
 Isaac, who survived his accession but two years. 
 
 Heg. 367. (977.) — Subooktugeen was unanimously proclaimed king of 
 Ghizny by the nobles and chiefs. lie had married the daughter of Aluptugeen, 
 and became as celebrated for his justice in the administration of his govern- 
 ment as for the extraordinary popularity he acquired among his subjects of all 
 conditions. During the first year of his accession, Subooktugeen conquered 
 the province of Candahar. Resolving on a war with India, he marched in that 
 direction, and having taken certain forts, caused mosques to be built, and then 
 returned with considerable spoil to Ghizny. 
 
 Jeipal, a powerful prince of India, of the Brahmin caste, raised a numerous 
 body of troops to oppose the Mahomedans, and brought together a gre,;ii 
 number of elephants, with a design to attack them in their own country ; but 
 the King of Ghizny, sending an army to oppose the Indian chief, the hostile 
 forces came in sight of each other on the confines of Lumghan. Here some 
 smart skirmishing ensued, and Mahmood, the son of Subooktugeen, afterwards 
 celel)rated as the conqueror of India, though then but a boy, gave proofs of 
 that valour and conduct which so eminently distinguished his future life. 
 
 Jeipal's troops having suffered from a dreadful stcim of hail which killed 
 the cattle of the army and several thousand soldiers, their general made 
 proposals for peace, which, contrary to the advice of Mahmood, were accepted 
 by the King of Ghizny. 
 
 Jeipal, on reaching his capital, refused to fulfil the conditions, and Subook- 
 tugeen again marched his forces towards Lahore. The Indian general advanced 
 to meet and give him battle. The Hindoos were everywhere defeated, and 
 
 INDIA. -B
 
 2 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 pursued with prodigious slaughter to the banks of the Neelab. By this victory 
 the conqueror acquired immense wealth, and a considerable accession of 
 territory, causing himself to be acknowledged king over the conquered country, 
 and appointing one of his officers with ten thousand horse to the government 
 of Pishawur. 
 
 About this time died Munsoor, King of Bokhara ; he was succeeded by his 
 son Nooh, against whom a formidable rebellion was raised by a chief named 
 paik. Nooh having formed an alliance with the King of Ghizny, the rebel was 
 attacked and defeated by the latter, for which signal service the sovereign of 
 Bokhara conferred upon Subooktugcen the title of Nasir-ood-Deen, Hero of 
 the Faith ; and upon his son Mahmood that of Syf-ood-Dowla, Sword o 
 the State. 
 
 The rebel Faik having again collected his forces, attacked Mahmood un- 
 expectedly and defeated him, taking his baggage. The father healing of his 
 son's disaster, marched to his relief, routed the insurgents a second time, and 
 thus completely quashed the rebellion. 
 
 Heg. 387. (997.) — Subooktugeen fell into a lingering disorder. Being at 
 this time at Bulkh, he determined to try change of air, and accordingly com- 
 menced a journey to Ghizny. He had travelled only a few miles when he was 
 obliged to stop at Toormooz, a towm not far from Bulkh, where be expired, 
 his remains being can-ied to Ghizny for interment.
 
 %^t ^xMhx'u ga^^am. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN the forests of Candahar, a solitary traveller was pursuing his 
 way. Overcome by the heat of noon he sat down on the 
 margin of a small stream that gurgled through the thick under- 
 wood, allowing his horse to crop the fresh herbage upon its banks. 
 The scene around him was gloomy but imposing. So thick was 
 the growth of the jungle that the sun's rays could not penetrate, 
 except here and there, where patches had been cleared by the char- 
 coal-burners or for purposes of fuel ; and these were comparatively 
 few. Some of the trees were of a growth so stupendous as to im- 
 part a character of sublimity to the whole aspeqjt of the forest. 
 Many of them reached the prodigious height of a hundred and 
 thirty feet, presenting a straight branchless stem, which rose like a 
 colossal pillar from the ground to the altitude of twenty yards 
 without a single branch or even a sprout upon its surface. Under 
 the vast leafy canopy which spread out above it, the wild elephant 
 frequently reposed, and seemed, by comparison with the stately 
 growth beside which it rested, but as some ordinary animal. 
 
 It is far from the haunts of men, amid the deep recesses of the 
 forest, or on the summit of the distant mountain, that nature is 
 seen to develop the noblest features of her beauty. The stillness 
 that reigns around, the solemn repose of the scene, not broken in 
 upon by human associations, nor interrupted by the voice of human 
 intercourse, enhance the impression of grandeur produced by the 
 sight of objects which cannot fail to elevate the soul to pious adora- 
 tion of the great and illimitable God of the universe. 
 
 The stranger was impressed by the somewhat painful novelty of 
 
 V 2
 
 4 THE TEA VELLER 'S DREAM. 
 
 his situation, and solemn thoughts were awakened in his heart. 
 He sat cahnly gazing upon the brook as it bubbled before him, 
 when his attention was suddenly roused by a crashing of the 
 bushes, immediately accompanied by a loud roar, and in another 
 moment his horse was prostrated by the paw of a huge lion. The 
 traveller started from his seat, drew his sword, and coming behind 
 the ferocious visitor, cut the sinews of its hind leg, and before the 
 animal could turn, repeated the stroke on the oiher, and thus com- 
 pletely disabled it. The savage instantly relinquished its prey, 
 but so tremendous had been the stroke of its paw and the succeed- 
 ing laceration so extensive, that the poor horse rolled upon the 
 streamlet's bank in the agonies of death. The lion roared with 
 appalling iwxy — its eyes glared — its mane bristled — but it was 
 unable to resent the injury it had received. It dragged itself 
 fonvard upon its fore-legs with a vain endeavour to retaliate. Its 
 vanquisher approached fearlessly, struck it across the skull with 
 his sword, and, repeating the stroke, laid it dead at his feet. 
 
 The loss of his steed was an untoward event, and as he would now 
 have to make his way through the forest on foot, — as, moreover, 
 the sun had long passed its meridian, he determined to pursue 
 his journey without further delay. 
 
 Strapping to his shoulders a kind of wallet which had been 
 fastened to his saddle, he commenced threading the thicket. His 
 journey was long and arduous, but on emerging into an open 
 space, he saw a doe grazing with her fawn. The latter had just 
 been born, and the traveller coming suddenly upon them, secured 
 the little one, while the affrighted dam fled in terror. Pleased with 
 his capture, he bound the fawn's legs, and placing it under his arm, 
 ;)roceeded on his way. 
 
 He now quitted the cleared space, and plunged again into 
 the jungle, satisfied at having procured something to relieve his 
 tunger, should he be obliged to pass the night in the forest. When 
 ne had at length reached a convenient spot where he might pre- 
 pare a meal, he placed the fawn beside the tiomk of a blasted tree, 
 and having kindled a fire by the friction of tvvo dry pieces of 
 wood, he wa-"^ about to sacrifice the little animal, but perceiving
 
 THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. S 
 
 the mother at a short distance gazing upon him with an expression 
 of the deepest distress, he paused. The tears rolled down her 
 cheeks — her head was raised, and her eyes intently fixed upon the 
 stranger's countenance. They next turned upon her innocent 
 offspring that lay bound at the root of the tree, unconscious of 
 its danger, but still yearning for its parent. She gradually advanced 
 within a few yards of the spot on which the traveller stood. He 
 retired several paces ; the anxious dam immediately sprang towards 
 its young, lay down by it, and caressed it with an intelligible joy. 
 On the traveller's approach she quitted her fawn with a bound of 
 terror, but still retreated only a few yards, manifesting the strongest 
 symptoms of maternal suffering. 
 
 It was an affecting sight — an irresistible appeal to human 53^1- 
 pathy. The heart of the stranger was moved to pity, his bosom 
 heaved with generous emotion, and under the impulse of a fervid 
 and holy exultation he released the fawn from his captivity. The 
 tender creature instantly ran to its mother, which, with a cry of 
 joy, passed forward towards the thicket; but before she was 
 secluded from the sight of him who had delivered her young from 
 death, she turned round as if with a look of grateful acknowledg- 
 ment, and plunged with her delicate offspring into the close cover 
 of the forest. 
 
 This was an act to gladden the heart of a good man. Life is 
 the blessed boon of Heaven, and the greatest of its gifts : to the 
 mere animal, the loss of it is the loss of all ; and yet how wantonly 
 does man trifle with the life of animals, to which it is an object of 
 such high enjoyment ; for dumb creatures, having no apprehension 
 of pain, possess the highest sense of mere corporeal fruition, so 
 long as they are not actually suffering. 
 
 The release of the fawn had softened the stranger's sympathies 
 and impressed his feelings. Taking from his wallet a small quan- 
 tity of rice, which had been already boiled, he made a homely but 
 grateful meal, and determined to pass that night on the si)ot, 
 endeared to him by the consciousness, which it kept alive, of having 
 performed a benevolent action. 
 
 It was a heavenly night. The light of a clear moon peeped
 
 6 THE TRAVELLER'S DREAM. 
 
 through the trees, and seemed to dance in ten thousand phos- 
 phoric corascations, as the slender branches, agitated by a gentle 
 evening breeze, diverted its course for the moment, or trembled 
 in its gentle beams. The forest gloom contrasted solen^nly with 
 the silvery light of the deep azure expanse above, and the general 
 repose of nature, at that still hour when man retires to rest 
 from the stir and bustle of day, added an additional tone of 
 solemnity to the scene. The beast of prey was abroad, and, as it 
 prowled, its occasional roar was a sort of diapason to nature's 
 imposing harmony. 
 
 The traveller having collected some dried leaves strewed them 
 under the broad foliage of a tree, the branches of which formed a 
 thick canopy within six feet of the ground, and casting himself 
 upon this easy woodland couch, courted that slumber which his 
 fatigue had rendered welcome. His reflections were peaceful. He 
 reverted to the occurrences of the day, and though the loss of his 
 steed was a subject of uneasy recollection, yet it was more than 
 countervailed by the happy remembrance of that little episode in 
 the brief chronicle of his life, which he never afterwards reverted 
 to without satisfaction — the restoration of the fawn to its bereaved 
 dam. 
 
 He lay for some time pursuing the quiet tenour of his contem- 
 plations, occasionally lapsing into a state of half-consciousness 
 and then reverting, by a sudden impulse of the mind, to perfect, 
 self-possession. At length, overcome by the active process of his 
 thoughts and fatigue of body, he fell into a profound sleep, in 
 which some of the most striking events of the past day were pre- 
 sented to his imagination, combined with new associations, and 
 invested with new hues and a more varied colouring. He dreamed 
 that he was visited by the Prophet, who approached him in 
 shining garments, from which a glory was emitted so dazzling that 
 he could not gaze upon it, and said — "The generosity which you 
 have this day shown to a distressed animal has been appreciated 
 by that God who is the God of dumb as well as of rational crea- 
 tures, and the kingdom of Ghizny is assigned to you in this world 
 as your reward. Let not your power, however, undermine your
 
 THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 7 
 
 virtue,but continue through life to exercise that benevolence towaras 
 man which you have done this day towards the bmte." Having 
 uttered these words, the celestial messenger disappeared, and the 
 stranger awoke. 
 
 The moon was still bright in the heavens, but he could not 
 again close his eyes in sleep. The vision was too strongly im- 
 pressed upon his waking senses to allow them to yield to the 
 gentle solicitations of slumber. He arose, and watched the clear 
 "pale planet," through the trees, as it slowly marched towards the 
 horizon to make way for the brighter dawn. 
 
 The dews fell heavily, and a thin silvery mist began to rise 
 and invest every object with an ashy tint, as the moon gradually 
 faded in its far descent behind the distant hills. The grey dawn 
 at length broke slowly over the plain, but was not perceptible to 
 the traveller's eye until the valleys were flooded with the young dewy 
 light. The mist had thickened. The leaves of the trees dripped 
 with their liquid burthen, and every spot that was not protected 
 by a mantle of thick foliage, presented a bloom of moisture from 
 the atmosphere, that seemed tinted with hues from fairy-land. 
 Each blade of grass curved under its watery load, bending its deli- 
 cate neck as if proud to bear the pure deposit of the skies. Every- 
 thing was clothed in the same soft drapery, which was shaken off 
 by the morning breeze, when each object resumed its natural 
 variety of hue, and harmonious conformity of light and shadow. 
 
 The traveller gathered together the leaves on which he had 
 slept, kindled them, and taking a small cocoanut hookah from his 
 wallet, smoked his chillam ; then, making a scanty meal from the 
 cold rice, refreshed himself with a draught of the dews which he 
 had allowed to drip during the night into a plantain leaf doubled 
 up in the form of a cup. 
 
 Although his repast was a spare one, it was taken with a pure 
 relish, and having once more strapped his few articles of baggage 
 upon his shoulders, he prepared to resume his journey ; but first 
 taming his face towards the holy city, he offered up his devotions 
 with pious fervour, and supplicated the protection of Heaven 
 through his wanderings.
 
 t THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 
 
 As he pursued his solitary way through paths to which he was a 
 perfect stranger, he could not help recalling the vision which had 
 haunted his sleep. It had come so vividly before him that he more 
 Ihan half persuaded himself it must have been intended to be a direct 
 revelation from Heaven, and yet, that a man without a name, 
 without a home, a stranger in the land, should become the monarch 
 of a powerful empire, seemed one of those impossibilities only to 
 be dreamed of, but never realised. 
 
 To his calmer reflections, the night-vision appeared nothing 
 more than the lively operation of a fancy excited by sleep, and 
 which had been rendered the more keenly alive to impressions 
 from certain peculiar coincidences of events that had deeply in- 
 terested him, and from those reflex images presented in slumber 
 in consequence of the strong feelings which those coincidences 
 had awakened v/ithin him. Nevertheless, in spite of the apparent 
 unreasonableness of the thing promised, the utter improbability of 
 such an event taking place, and the force of his arguments upon the 
 folly of harbouring such a thought, he could not expel from his mind 
 the singular revelation of that night. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE traveller now pursued his way through the intricacies of 
 the jungle, with much difficulty and equal patience. He 
 had not long quitted the spot of his last night's repose, when, 
 entering a small glade where the wood had been cleared, he per- 
 ceived a group of eight men, seated round the glowing embers of 
 a fire, some smoking, and others apparently devouring the last of 
 their morning's meal. Knowing that retreat would be of no avail 
 to secure him from their hostile intentions, if they were enemies, 
 he boldly approached, and inquired his way to the nearest hamlet. 
 One of the men rose, and meeting him, said with a significant 
 laugh, 
 
 " Perhaps you wouldn't mind ending your journey here ?*'
 
 THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 9 
 
 "Indeed but I should. If you can direct me on my way, well; 
 if not, I have no tune for parleying." 
 
 " Good ! but travellers that pass through these woods are in the 
 habit of paying for safe-conduct." 
 
 " I require no guide, and therefore must decline the tribute." 
 
 " Hark'ye ! Do you think your single arm a match for eight 
 pair? Be advised, and lower your tone. We live here by our 
 good wits, levying contributions when the opportunity invites, and 
 living on what the forest provides, when such opportunities fail us. 
 We must have what you carry upon your shoulders, your money, 
 and your provender, if you have any. When we make our de- 
 mands, remember we take no denial." 
 
 " Then I am in the presence of robbers ?" 
 
 " Ay ! and what then ?" 
 
 " This, that I shall not submit to your exactions, though you had 
 a hundred, instead of seven, to back you !" 
 
 The robber laughed; and, turning to his comrades, said, " Here's 
 a fellow that wont be plucked without fluttering ; we must try 
 blows to bring down the game, if he chooses to be deaf to per- 
 suasion. Come," said he, turning to the traveller, "get rid of 
 that unsightly hump upon your shoulders, and show how straight 
 a man you are when you stand upright, without an incumbrance." 
 
 ** Life," repHed the traveller, " is only to be valued at its worth; 
 and I am ready to relinquish mine, if it be Allah's will, in defence 
 of my property. 'Tis no great matter for a man to die, who has 
 known little else than crosses in this world, and has nothing better 
 to look forward to. Take heed then, though you be robbers, and 
 such are seldom merciful, how you impede the progress of a des- 
 perate man." 
 
 Saying this, he retreated towards a tree, against which he placed 
 himself, and drawing his sword, declared his determination to 
 lesist to the death. 
 
 The robbers paused, surprised at the determination to oppose 
 himself against such palpable odds ; but, in order to prove how 
 the heio had miscalculated his chances, one of the men discharged 
 an airow, and transfixed his sword-arm, pinning iT. *o the tree.
 
 lo THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 
 
 The traveller immediately snapped off the shaft, and raised his 
 arm to strike, but it fell powerless beside him. He was instantly- 
 overpowered and disarmed ; but upon examining the contents of 
 his load, great was the disappointment of the bandits. They scat- 
 tered its contents upon the ground, deriding the stranger's risk of 
 his life for property so valueless. 
 
 " Well," said the robber who had already spoken, *' as he keeps 
 no purse, we must make one out of him. His limbs are of the 
 right mould, and your purchasers of slaves will give something for 
 a sturdy labourer. We'll bid you good-bye when we can provide 
 you a master who knows how to pay for being furnished with a 
 brawny pair of shoulders, that he may lay his own load upon, 
 without carrying them under his own head. Come along ; you 
 shall rest quietly till that awkward puncture in your arm is healed, 
 and then you shall be shown the way to the next hamlet." 
 
 The stranger's arms were bound with his turban, and he was 
 forced to proceed between two of the bandits. They entered the 
 thicket, and after a walk of about five minutes, stood before several 
 rude huts, formed in one of the closest recesses of the forest 
 These hovels were constructed from various growths of the jungle, 
 a small square spot having been cleared in front, where the outlaws 
 smoked, cooked their curries, and held their councils. Each hu\. 
 accommodated a family, for all the men were married. 
 
 As there was no spare dwelling for the stranger, one was im- 
 mediately constructed by a couple of the robbers, and completed 
 in about two hours. It consisted of a few slight bamboos, driven 
 into the ground at intervals of a foot, under the foilage of a low 
 tree, which formed the roof These bamboos were crossed with 
 smaller canes, and the interstices filled with broad leaves and 
 dried grass : the turf being cleared from within, the habitation was 
 complete. 
 
 On the third day after his capture, the traveller was commanded 
 to prepare for a change of condition. His wound was doing well, 
 but the arm continued useless. His hands had not been released 
 from the bandage by which they were confined when he was made 
 captive. He was brought out into the area before the huts.
 
 THE TEA VELLER 'S DREAM. ii 
 
 *' Now/' said the principal bandit, addressing him, " what say 
 you to a change of \ik, in the mode at least ? We are robbers ; 
 our business requires quick heads and stout hearts. You are a 
 brave son of a good mother : v/hat say you to a union of interest? 
 with those who, as you see, know how to live, and when pro- 
 visions get scarce, are not over nice in appropriating them without 
 purchase ?" 
 
 " I fear," replied the prisoner, "that I have too quick a con- 
 science for a robber. You had better not trust me : I should 
 betray you," 
 
 " We'll run the risk ; a brave man never can discredit his 
 courage, and to skulk in the track of treachery is the choice only 
 of cowards. We'll trust you," 
 
 " You would act then with a fool's discretion ; for brave men 
 should be honourable, and 'tis an honourable act to proclaim 
 rogues, who are the bane of society : — not to proclaim them would 
 be an act of treachery against honest men." 
 
 " In truth, I did not take thee for an honest man, though I did 
 for a brave one ; but I suspect thee to be neither, and only fit to 
 rub a horse's crupper, and perform the slave's drudgery. So be it, 
 thou shalt soon know thy vocation," 
 
 " These bonds are thy security," said the traveller, raising his 
 hands, which were still tied with the turban. " Cowards are always 
 brave, when they are beyond the reach of danger. Does itbecom*' 
 thy manhood to insult a maimed and unarmed man ?" 
 
 This appeal, though it galled the pride, roused the better spirit 
 of the robber, and he said: — "Well! our notions of valour may 
 be like our notions of honesty ; therefore, let both be a divided 
 question ; but, since you decline joining your fortune with ours, 
 you must settle our demand for home and nourishment, and as you 
 seem to have no gold of your own, we must turn you into a dis- 
 posable commodity, and get something for our trouble and care 
 of you," 
 
 The stranger now proceeded with his captors, and, after a march 
 of some hours, they reached a village bordering upon the forest. 
 It consisted of a few miseiable huts, and its inhabitants were of the
 
 la THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 
 
 lowest class. Shortly after their arrival, a merchant made his appear- 
 ance, who purchased the prisoner from the robbers ; and he was left 
 with a stranger in the new and unenviable character of a slave. This 
 was anything but a realization of his dream ; it however satisfied 
 him, if he harboured a different conviction before, that dreams are 
 the mere fantastic creations of an excited brain, and he felt 
 ashamed of having allowed so flimsy an illusion to obtain one 
 moment's influence over his mind. 
 
 There was nothing to be gained by despondency, and he resolved 
 to submit to his destiny, with a secret trust in God, and a deter- 
 mination to direct the tenour of his life according to the pure 
 suggestions of a rigid and inflexible conscience. So soon as he 
 had become the merchant's property, the latter examined his wound, 
 and, having carefully dressed it, as carefully felt his chest and limbs, 
 in order to form some idea of the texture of his muscles. This 
 preliminary settled, he expressed himself well satisfied with his 
 purchase. The merchant was a little shrivelled man, with a lio-ht 
 brown complexion, exhibiting a dull ochreous tinge, as if in him 
 the whole biliary structure were placed in his head. He had a 
 thm straggling beard, so scattered over the corrugated surface of 
 his sharp-pointed chin, as to give him the appearance of a senile 
 hag, rather than that of a venerable slave-dealer. He was accom- 
 panied by several athletic attendants, who amply made up in bone 
 and sinew for the deficiency of their master in both particulars. 
 
 Having asked his new slave a few questions respecting hij 
 former habits of life, and thus ascertained that he had been accus- 
 tomed to those hardy exploits likely to have inured his body to 
 endurance, calculating that he should make a handsome profit by 
 his bargain, the thrifty cliafferer ordered him to be carefully 
 attended to. After a day's rest at the village, the merchant 
 directed his route towards Khorassan, whither they arrived, after 
 a laborious journey. The slave was lodged at the house of his 
 purchaser, who fed him well, and used him with sufficient kind- 
 ness, in order to bring him into the best possible condition for sale. 
 He took care to have it rumoured that he had a stout handsome 
 fellow to dispose of, such as could not be matched in all Persig ;
 
 THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 13 
 
 in consequence, many persons, A'illing to purchase, came to see the 
 marvel ; but, finding that the description was not exactly borne 
 out by the reality, and the sum demanded being more than they 
 could afford, or were willing to pay, they declined entering upon 
 B bargain. 
 
 The merchant began to grow impatient ; and, as he was daily 
 S^icurring an expense without profit, he thought it would be better 
 to abate something of his demand and conclude an immediate 
 sale, than to throw away more money upon the doubtful chance 
 of obtaining a better price. An expedient, however, struck him. 
 Conceiving that bondage could be desirable to no man, it occurred 
 to him that the object of his anxiety and late disappointment might 
 have the means of purchasing his own freedom. When this bright 
 conclusion came across his mind, delighted with the excessive 
 novelty of the thought, he argued that a man ought to pay more 
 for his own liberty than another for the privilege of withholding it 
 from him, because it was a far greater benefit to the one than to 
 the other ; and he consequently determined to raise his demand in 
 proportion. With a portentous smile quivering upon his features, 
 he approached the object of his anticipated gain, and said — 
 
 "Would you not be glad to enjoy your freedom?" 
 
 *' You may as well ask a starving man if he loves rice." 
 
 *' Are you willing to pay for it ?" 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 " In money." 
 
 " No. I am not disposed to buy what is the blessed boon of 
 Heaven, and of this you have no more right to deprive me than I 
 have to cut your throat, which you well deserve, for being the 
 encourager of knaves and the supporter of brigands." 
 
 The old man's countenance collapsed like a death's head, and, 
 without uttering a word, he tottered from the presence of his 
 incensed captive, as if stung by a scorpion. 
 
 From this time he treated his prisoner with much more rigour 
 than he had hitherto done, and at length came to the resolution of 
 putting a collar round his neck, and forcing him to perform offices 
 of drudgerj' for a daily compensation. It however fortunately
 
 THE TRA VELLER S DREAM. 
 
 happened that Aluptugeen, Governor of Khorassan, hearing a 
 favourable account of the slave, desired to see him. He accor- 
 dingly made his appearance, and was immediately purchased by 
 the governor, to the no small gratification of the slave-merchant. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE purchase being completed, the slave was removed to the 
 Governor's palace. Here he was placed among the house- 
 hold servants ; but Aluptugeen, soon perceiving in him the promise 
 of better things, had him about his person, and he shortly became 
 an obvious favourite with his master. This flattering impression 
 continued to increase, and he was at last advanced to a post of 
 some distinction in the state. Seeing in his slave such superior 
 endowments, Aluptugeen one day inquired of him concerning his 
 birth. The slave replied ; — 
 
 " My history is brief. Though in bondage, I have done nothing 
 to disgrace my parentage. I was born free, though in poverty ; I 
 am lineally descended from Yezdijerd, the last of the Persian 
 monarchs, who, as you no doubt well know, when flying from his 
 enemies, during the Caliphate of Othman, was murdered at a 
 water-mill near the town of Murv. His family, being left iij 
 Toorkistan, formed connexions among the people, and his da 
 scendants have become Toorks. I am now a Toork. 
 
 " I was brought into the world amid poverty and destitution ; but 
 the very wants to which my youth was subjected forced me to 
 exert the energies with which the Omnipotent had endowed me, 
 and I became at an early age skilled in the sports of the field, of 
 a hardy frame and daring temperament, with the determination of 
 seeking and securing my own fortune. My father, a man of in- 
 formation and letters, in spite of the pressure of penury, did not 
 neglect to instil into my mind the obligations of virtue, and store 
 it with the seeds of wisdom ; I may therefore be said to have been 
 better educated thaa many who figure in the courts of princes.
 
 THE TRA VELLMR S DREAM. 15 
 
 "From my earliest days, I had entertained a presentiment that 
 the poor Tooikoman's son was born for something better than to 
 pass his Hfe in indigence and obscurity. Under this impression, 
 false as it has hitherto proved, I quitted my father's house in my 
 nineteenth year, and was on my way to join the armies of Ghizny, 
 when I fell into the hands of robbers, and have in consequence be- 
 come the slave of a most generous master." 
 
 Aluptugeen was pleased with the history of his dependent, whom 
 he soon raised to still higher honours under his government. The 
 favourite did not disgrace his freedom, but rose rapidly into favour, 
 until at length was conferred upon him the distinguished title of 
 Ameer-ool-Omrah, chief of the nobles. He became now the first 
 man in Khorassan, and was finally placed at the head of Aluptugeen's 
 armies. He brought them to a state of the highest order and 
 discipline, led them on to conquest, and was the idol of the troops. 
 The enemies of his master were awed into submission by the 
 superior genius of his general, and peace and prosperity prevailed 
 throughout the empire. His rise to distinction was as signal as it 
 was rapid, and he could not help frequently reverting to his dream 
 in the forest, which appeared gradually advancing towards its ac- 
 complishment. His father lived not to see the exaltation of his 
 son, but that son had his mother conveyed to Khorassan, where 
 she enjoyed the happiness of seeing him hailed by the public 
 voice as a greaV and good man. 
 
 What a singular change had come over the destiny of the 
 stranger within the lapse of a few years ! The bondsman, who 
 had bent the knee to his superiors, was now bowed to as a great 
 and glorious being. He was the favourite of the Governor of 
 Khorassan ; he directed his master's councils, commanded his 
 armies, and was the oracle of his cabinet. He was constantly 
 with the Governor, and nothing of moment was undertaken with- 
 out his advice. He was now the happiest of the happy. Be- 
 loved by his ruler, the idol of all subjected to his control, the 
 terror of those neighbouring potentates who were hostile to the 
 government of his kind patron — he had scarcely a wish to gratify, 
 and he felt that the clouds which had hung upon the dawn of his
 
 «6 -fHB TRA vn.iLLER 'S DREAM. 
 
 career had rendered the succeeding brightness only more vivid 
 and joyous. 
 
 Ahiptugeen had a beautiful daughter, whose affections were 
 courted by the most powerful nobles of Khorassan ; but she con- 
 tinued deaf to their advances. She was a woman of rare endow- 
 ments, and therefore an object naturally coveted by such a 
 thouglit themselves in a condition to woo her. She was not to be 
 won. ]\Iany, with whom her father would have gladly sought 
 an alliance, were rejected, and the beautiful Zahira remained un- 
 wedded. Her coldness was the universal topic of expressed 
 surprise ; still she listened not to the voice of the wooer. She 
 was lier father's only child ; and he felt naturally anxious, through 
 her, to perpetuate his race : the disappointment therefore saddened 
 him. But there appeared no remedy, as he did not choose to in- 
 terfere with the antipathies or predilections of a beloved daughter. 
 
 As the Ameer - ool - Omrah resided in her father's palace, 
 Zahira had continual opportunities of seeing him. They fre- 
 quently met — they frequently conversed — and such meetings 
 and such conversations begat mutual good-will. The quondam 
 slave soon perceived that he was not despised; his admira- 
 tion for the daughter of his patron' grew at length into a warmer 
 feeling, and he became conscious that he loved her. He 
 was aware of the splendid offers that had been made to her, 
 which she had refused. He knew the extreme fastidiousness of 
 her approbation, yet was he disposed to think, or at least to hope, 
 that she might be won to return the ardour which glowed in his 
 bosom towards her. j 
 
 It was impossi])le they should frequently meet, without that 
 optical revelation which is invariably made where two hearts throb 
 in unison ; and v;hen he was satisfied, by the eloquent exchange 
 of a certain tenderness not to be mistaken, which the eye so 
 legibly communicates when it is really and evidently felt, that his 
 passion for the lovely daughter of Aluptugeen was returned in full 
 force, he no longer hesitated to declare his passion, which de- 
 claration was received with an approbation that excited him to a 
 perfect delirium of joy.
 
 THE TRA VELLER 'S DREAM. 17 
 
 "Lady," said the Ameer-ool-Omrah, in avowing his passion, 
 ** though once a slave, I am Hneally descended from a long race 
 of kings ; your purity of blood will not therefore be tainted by 
 an alliance with one who, from the lowest degradation of bon- 
 dage has attained to the highest condition of freedom," 
 
 "Noble," replied the lovely Zahira, "in the choice we make 
 of those who are to guide our destinies, we should look rather 
 to the moral qualities of the man we select, than to those adven- 
 titious circumstances which may either make him a sovereign or a 
 beggar. To choose a wealthy man is easy ; to choose a man of 
 birth and distinction in the courts of princes is not more difficult. 
 I have had the choice of both ; but to select a virtuous man, is 
 one of the few auspicious occurrences of our lives." 
 
 " Lady, I pretend to no virtue, beyond those of the nobles 
 who compose the brilliant assemblage of your father's court. 
 There is, that I know of, but one main diflerence between us ; 
 they have inherited rank and opulence — it came to them with- 
 out effort ; mine, though descended from a line of kings, has 
 been obtained with the point of my sword." 
 
 " I am content to share with you," said Zahira earnestly, " the 
 happiness or misery of a united lot, provided my father withhold 
 not his consent ; for I have no will, whatever wish I may enter- 
 tain, apart from his. Duty to a parent is only exceeded in in- 
 tensity of obligation by duty to a husband, and she Avho would 
 fail to perform the one, would not be very likely to perform the 
 other." 
 
 " I will immediately seek the Governor, and make known to 
 him our mutual desires. He esteems me highly, as I have 
 reason to believe ; but how far his pride may struggle against his 
 friendship, is a circumstance to be ascertained." 
 
 On that very day, the Ameer-ool-Omrah sought an audience 
 with Aluptugeen, and declared his passion for the daughter oi 
 that prince. The Governor expressed no surprise, but said, " You 
 know Zahira is my only child — a sweet blossom, that now for 
 sixteen summers has blown round my heart with a purity and a 
 fragrance that has rendered life to me a scene of enviable enjoy-
 
 i8 THE TRAVELLER'S DREAM. 
 
 ment. It is my duty, therefore, no less than my wish, to rende? 
 that girl happy. She has already been solicited in marriage by 
 four different princes, who possess each an extensive dominion 
 and wide political influence ; but she has rejected them. Several 
 nobles of my court have made advances to her with like success. 
 In such a solemn matter I shall neither bias nor direct her. You 
 must, therefore, win her consent before you can obtain mine." 
 
 " I have avowed my passion, and your daughter has conde- 
 scended to accept my vows. She waits but your decision. If you 
 are averse to our union, my doom is sealed ; if you approve of it, 
 my happiness is secured." 
 
 " If you have her consent I shall not withhold mine, and may 
 the blessing of that great and good Being under whose sanction 
 marriages are ratified, attend your union ! She has at least fixed 
 her heart upon a worthy man, and I am satisfied." 
 
 The marriage was almost immediately solemnized with great 
 pomp and splendour; and though some of the rejected nobles 
 looked with envy upon the happy bridegroom, it was nevertheless 
 an event that diffused joy throughout the whole district of Kho- 
 rassan. Shortly after this union, on the death of Abdool Mulhk 
 Samany, who reigned over Transoxania, the nobles sent a deputa- 
 tion to consult Aluptugeen regarding a successor. The dynasty 
 of Samany was very powerful. Its power extended over Khwaruzm 
 Marvur-ool-Nehr, Jourjan, Khorassan, Seewustan, and Ghizny, 
 The Kings held their court at Bokhara. When the deputation 
 arrived from Bokhara, Aluptugeen hesitated not to express his 
 opposition to the accession of Prince IMunsoor on the plea of his 
 being too young, recommending that his uncle should for the 
 present assume the reins of government. 
 
 Before this answer reached the capital, a party had placed 
 Mvmsoor upon the throne ; consequently, when the young King 
 sent a summons for Aluptugeen to show himself at court, the 
 latter, apprehensive that mischief was intended, made excuses, 
 and did not appear. In the year of the Hegira, 351, and 962 of 
 our era, Aluptugeen raised the standard of rebelUon and marched
 
 THE TEA VRLLER 'S DREAitf. ig 
 
 to Ghizny, which was subdued by the bravery and conduct of his 
 son-in-law, and there estabUshed an independent power. 
 
 Munsoor, hearing of this defection, conferred the government 
 of Khorassan on a noble of his own court, and sent armies to 
 attack Aluptugeen, which were successively defeated by the hus- 
 band of his daughter. This raised the latter still higher in the 
 love and confidence of the troops. His arms were everywhere 
 \actorious. The power of Munsoor was abridged, and he began 
 to tremble for the security of his kingdom. 
 
 During fifteen years, Aluptugeen retained his independence. 
 He was frequently engaged in war with the Indians, in which his 
 troops were invariably successful. He lived to a good old age, 
 and died a.h. 365, a.d. 975, regretted by his subjects. He was 
 succeeded by his son Aboo-Isaac, who immediately upon his 
 accession proceeded to Bokhara, accompanied by his brother-in- 
 law the Ameer-ool-Onirah. Aboo-Isaac was well received by 
 Munsoor, who granted him a formal commission as governor of 
 Ghizny. His general was likewise appointed by the King as his 
 brother-in-law's deputy and provisional successor. 
 
 Aboo-Isaac survived this event but a short period, when the 
 husband of Zahira was unanimously acknowledged King of 
 Ghizny by the chiefs and nobles. Thus was the dream fulfilled — 
 the quondam slave became a powerful sovereign, and was no less a 
 man than the celebrated Subooktugeen, father of the still more 
 celebrated Mahmood Ghiznevy, who may be termed tlie first 
 Mahomedan conqueror of India 
 
 c 2
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 3S7 (a.d. 997). — On the death of Subooktugeen, his second son 
 /smaeel, who had prevailed on his father in the latter's last moments to appoint 
 him his successor, ascended the throne of Ghizny. Mahmood, though an 
 illegitimate son, disputed his brother's right of succession ; and a battle ensuing 
 between their respective armies, Mahmood prevailed. Ismaeel vi'as imme- 
 diately confined in a fort in Joorjan ; where he remamed until his death, and 
 his victorious brother ascended the throne. 
 
 Heg. 390 (1000). — Mahmood defeated Khuluf, governor of Seestan. He also 
 marched into India and made himself master of several provinces. 
 
 Heg. 391 (looi). — The king of Ghizny obtained a victory over the army of 
 Jeipal, who, together with fifteen sons and near relations, was taken prisoner, 
 five thousand of his troops being slain on the field of battle. Among the spoils 
 were sixteen necklaces inlaid with jewels, one of which, belonging to Jeipal, was 
 valued at a hundred and eighty thousand dinars, the dinar being about the 
 value of nine shillings sterling. Jeipal, having resigned his crowTi to his son, 
 in compliance with the customs of his race, ordered a funeral pile to be prepared; 
 and setting fire to it with his own hands, perished in the flames. 
 
 Heg. 392 (1003). — Mahmood again marched into Seestan and brought 
 Khuluf, the governor, prisoner to Ghizny. 
 
 Heg. 395 (1004). — Rajah Beejy Ray, governor of Bhateea, having refused 
 to pay tribute to Anundpal, the son of Jeipal, on whom he was dependent, 
 Mahmood took Bhateea by assault ; two hundred and eighty elephants, 
 numerous slaves and other valuable spoils were obtained in the town, which 
 the conqueror annexed, with all its dependencies, to his o\\'n dominions. 
 
 Heg. 396 (1005). — Elik Khan, king of Kashgar, and father-in-law of Mah- 
 mood, invaded the latter's territory. Mahmood was returning from the siege ol 
 Moultan when the nev/s reached him. He immediately hastened to meet the 
 invader, and a desperate battle was fought near Bulkli, in which the king ol 
 Kashgar was entirely defeated. This year the king of Ghizny likewise deleated 
 Sewukpal, who had thrown off his allegiance, and made him prisoner. The 
 rebel was compelled to pay four hundred thousand dirhems, about eight 
 thousand three hundred pounds sterling. 
 
 Heg. 399 (1008). — Mahmood made himself master «^C the fort of Bheem.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. a» 
 
 There, on account of its vast strength, the Hindoos had deposited the treasure 
 consecrated to their idols, so that the booty obtained by the conqueror was pro- 
 digious ; the specie alone, independent of plate, bullion, and jewels, is said 
 to have amounted to upwards of three hundred and thirteen thousand pounds 
 sterling. 
 
 Heg. 401 (loio). — Mahmood defeated the prince of Ghoor, and annexed his 
 countiy to the dominions of Ghizny. 
 
 Heg. 402 (101 1). — Mahmood reduced Tahnesur, a holy city of the Hindoos, 
 about thirty miles west of Delhi, which he plundered, broke the idols, and sent 
 the principal idol Jugsoma, to Ghizny, to be trodden under foot. A ruby is 
 said to have been found in one of the temples weighing four hundred and fifty 
 miskals ; a size altogether incredible. 
 
 Heg. 404 {1013). — The fort of Nindoona, situated in the mountains of Bulnat, 
 was reduced by the king of Ghizny. 
 
 Heg. 406 (1014). — Abool Abass Mamoor, king of Khwaruzm, obtained 
 Mahmood's sister in marriage. 
 
 Heg. 407 (1015). — Abool Abass Mansoor fell by the hands of conspirators, 
 but his death was revenged by his brother-in-law, who put the murderer to death. 
 
 Heg. 409 (1017). — The king of Ghizny took the fort of Mutra, in which he 
 found immense treasures. He next invested the fort of Rajah Chundpal, which 
 surrendered almost immediately. Having likewise defeated Chundur Ray, he 
 returned to Ghizny loaded with spoil, with which he built a magnificent mosque, 
 known by the name of the Celestial Bride. In iti neighbourhood the king 
 founded a university, which was supplied with a vast collection of curious books 
 in various languages It contained also a museum of natural curiosities. For 
 the support of this establishment he appropriated a large sum of money, besides 
 a sufficient fund for the maintenance of students and proper persons to instruct 
 them in the arts and sciences. 
 
 Heg. 410 (1019). — The king of Ghizny caused an account of his exploits to 
 be written and sent to the Caliph, who ordered it to be read to the people ol 
 Bagdad, making a great festival upon the occasion, expressive of his joy at 
 the propagation of the faith of Islam. 
 
 Heg. 412 (1021). — Mahmood defeated Nunda Ray, who had slain his ally 
 the Rajah of Canowj, securing considerable treasure, besides four hundred and 
 eighty elephants. His general also reduced Nardein, in which was a famous 
 temple containing a stone with curious inscriptions, and, according to the Hindoo 
 traditions, forty thousand years old. 
 
 Heg. 415 (1024). — Mahmood marched to Somnat, which he finally took, 
 and destroyed the celebrated Idol, in the belly of which was discovered a 
 quantity of diamonds, rubies, and pearls of immense value. Among the sp&sls 
 of the temple was a chain of gold weighing two hundred mauns, or about four 
 hundred pounds weight. It hung from the top of the building by a ring and 
 supported a great bell, which called the people to worship.
 
 S3 
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 417 (1026). — Mahmood returned to Ghizny after an absence of two 
 years and six months. This year he marched against the Juts, destroyed four 
 thousand, and according to some eight thousand, boats. Few of the Juts 
 escaped destruction : those who did, fell into the hands of the conqueror. 
 
 Heg. 418 (1027). — Mahmood died at Ghizny in the sixty-third year of his 
 age. He reigned thirty-five years, and was buried by torch-light with great 
 pomp and solemnity in the Kesr Firozy at GhizDy. This celebrated monarch 
 was in person about the middle size, but well made, and strongly marked with 
 the small-pox. His son Mahomed succeeded to the throne.
 
 %lt IbiDl d Sxrmna*. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SHORTLY after the sun had risen, a beautiful Hindoo was 
 washing her graceful limbs in the crisp waters of the sea, 
 which gently curled over a smooth pebbly beach, a short distance 
 from the fortifications of Somnat. This town was situated on the 
 neck of a peninsula washed on three sides by the ocean, and forti- 
 fied with great strength. There was only one approach to it. It was 
 reported that the Ghiznivites, under Mahmood their sovereign, 
 were on their march towards the town in large force, at which the 
 infatuated Hindoos affected to rejoice, proclaiming in the frantic 
 wild n ess of their enthusiasm, that their great idol, to whom all 
 things upon earth were obedient, had dra^vn thither the Mahome- 
 dans to blast them in a moment and to avenge the destruction of 
 the various gods of India. Upon this vain-glorious boast they 
 appeared to rely. 
 
 The town was crowded with inhabitants who seemed determined 
 to resist to the last gasp of life the threatened assault of their foes. 
 Nevertheless, they tnisted more to the imagined supremacy of 
 their idol, than to their own efforts of resistance. Though the 
 fortifications were strong for the period, when cannon were not 
 employed in sieges, and even the battering-ram was but seldom 
 resorted to, yet, being only of mud, they were not impregnable to 
 the assaults of a brave and resolute foe. They were defended, 
 moreover, by a host of fanatics, thousands of pilgrims, and crazy 
 visionaries who crowded to worship the celebrated idols contained
 
 -HE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 within their walls, forming the uncertain instruments of defence, 
 against which the hardy and resolute troops of Ghizny, inured to 
 ;arfare and accustomed to conquest, had to contend. 
 
 The inhabitants of Somnat were confident in their numbers^ 
 and this being increased by their expectation of divine interposition 
 through the influence of their stone divinity, they hailed with 
 derision the approach of their foes, observed their festivals ^\^th 
 increased acclamations, as if the menaced hostility promised rather 
 to be scenes of pastime than of devastation. 
 
 The threatened siege did not in the slightest degree interrupt 
 the daily observances of the Hindoos. The women went to the 
 sea-shore to bathe as usual, perfectly unapprehensive of danger 
 from the advancing army of Mahmood. 
 
 The beach on one side of the town was very retired, and, 
 beyond the battlements landward, flanked by a thick wood. 
 Hither the women repaired to perform their matutinal ablutions, 
 and being considered a spot sacred to this purpose, it was seldom 
 or never intruded upon, except on chance occasions by the 
 
 stranger. 
 
 Here, as I have already said, according to her invariable practice, 
 about the period of sunrise, a beautiful young Hindoo mother was 
 performing those lustrations imposed by her religion, and which, 
 apart from any spiritual consideration, are indispensable in a tropi- 
 cal region. The beach sloped gradually into the sea, in which she 
 stood up to the shoulders, her long black hair streaming like a 
 silken fringe upon the rippling waters. Her eyes were frequently 
 bent downward, as if in reverential abstraction, after which she 
 ' would raise them to the clear blue sky, rich with the pure tints of 
 heaven, and brightened by the fresh genial radiance of the morn- 
 ing sun. She was only dawning into womanhood though a mother, 
 her age not being yet sixteen. Her child was lying on the beach 
 wrapped in a small coverlet, and basking in the young sunlight. 
 The babe was but a few weeks old, and the youthful mother felt 
 for it all the yearning of a parent for her first child. She looked 
 at it occasionally from the place where she stood, draining the 
 water from her streaming tresses, and d'^aning them with a care
 
 THE IDOL OF SCMNA T. 35 
 
 (hat showed a consciousness of their beauty^ and her eye glistened 
 with a parent's pride as she gazed upon the earHest fruit of her 
 wedded love. 
 
 The infant was laid upon the dry soft sand, a few yards above 
 where the water reached at high tide. Several other women were 
 at this moment bathing at some short distance from the young 
 mother, who now quitted the water, having first carefully arrayed 
 her hair, and in a short time was wrapped in that loose becoming 
 drapery which sets off to such advantage the slender, but round 
 and graceful forms of the Hindoo women. Her bust was enclosed 
 in a vest of bright crimson silk, fitted closely to the shape, and 
 covering the arm midway from the shoulder to the elbow. A long 
 piece of fine muslin encircled her head, falling over her neck and 
 shoulders behind, and passing the lower parts of the body in 
 a variety of elegant undulating folds peculiar to the taste of 
 oriental beauties. Standing a few yards from her babe, she 
 arranged her dress with a neatness and precision which sufficiently 
 indicated a consciousness of the becoming. She had just com- 
 pleted this necessary arrangement of her toilet, and was about to 
 turn towards her tender offspring to proceed homeward, when a 
 wolf darted from the neighbouring thicket, seized tiie unconscious 
 infant, and was retiring with all speed towards the wood. The 
 distracted mother gazed for an instant in speechless agony, but 
 quickly recovering herself, she sprang after the beast with the 
 swiftness of an antelope, screaming the while with an energy that 
 made the forest re-echo her cries. 
 
 The wolf was encumbered by the weight of its burden, and the 
 cloth in which it was wrapped trailing upon the ground, as the 
 animal ran, greatly impeded its progress. Her companions 
 gazed after the anxious mother, as she followed wildly in pursuit 
 of her infant ; without making the slightest effort to assist her. 
 They stood with open mouths, but neither a sigh of sympathy 
 escaped their bosoms, nor did even an aspiration for the bereave- 
 ment of the young mother rise to their lips. 
 
 The wolf had nearly reached the thicket with its prey, and the 
 wretched parent was about to yield herself up to the wild impulse
 
 z5 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 of despair, when a horseman emerged from a path in the wood, 
 and seeing the distress of a young and beautiful woman, the 
 cause of which became instantly evident, he urged his steed 
 forward, and reaching the wolf before it had time to enter the 
 jungle, struck it on the back with his sword. The blow was given 
 from so sinewy an arm as almost to sever the brute in twain. It 
 immediately dropped its prey, writhed for a few moments, and 
 died. The eager mother threw herself frantically on the body of 
 her first-born, and began to bewail its untimely fate with piercing 
 shrieks of loud and bitter agony. Supposing that it was dead, 
 she clasped it to her bosom and called upon her idol to restore 
 the joy of her life ; but the stone divinity, dumb and insensible 
 as the earth on which she had prostrated herself, heard not her 
 lamentable cry. The huge image of Somnat, adored by millions 
 of enthusiasts, and enriched by the perpetual offerings of wealthy 
 devotees, standing within the walls of a gorgeous temple, which 
 might have vied with the proudest palaces of Egypt's kings in 
 the brightest days of their renown, heard not the tender supplica- 
 tions of one of its devoted adorers, but stood in its grim ma- 
 jesty inaccessible to the appeal which might have melted any 
 stone that had not been employed to fashion a divinity. 
 
 The child, feeling the pantings of its mother's bosom, uttered a 
 cry that in a moment subdued the mental anguish of its parent. 
 Her lamentations ceased — she gazed upon it — unfastened the 
 cloth in which it had been tied — examined it with an expression 
 of excited anxiety, and finding that it was uninjured, gave a scream 
 of joy, and clasped it with fervency to her breast. 
 
 The wolf had seized only the wrapper in which the infant had 
 been secured, so that when released from the monster's jaws, the 
 babe was without a scratch. The youthful mother was ^vi]d with 
 transport. She fixed her beaming eyes upon her preserver with 
 a look between amazement and exultation, but without uttering a 
 word. 
 
 By this time the stranger, beneath whose sword the wolf had 
 died, stood near, apparently enjopng the rapture of the young
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. Vj 
 
 Hindoo. For a few moments, he left her to the feelings in which 
 her ardent heart was evidently revelling, forbearing to interrupt 
 an enjoyment second only to the fruition of paradise. He beheld 
 her beauty with fervent admiration, a beauty seldom paralleled, 
 and heightened by the tender excitement under which she was at 
 that moment labouring. Having recovered from the shock of 
 agony produced by the apprehension of her child's peril, her 
 thoughts were now sufficiently collected to acknowledge her 
 obligations to its deliverer. She again turned upon him her 
 large dark liquid eyes with an expression of melting gratitude 
 which could not be mistaken. 
 
 The Strang er approached. She shrank from him, in spite of 
 the obligation which he had placed her under, because he was of 
 another creed. The tie of his jumma or tunic proclaimed him 
 a ]\Iahomedan, and she almost shuddered as he came near and 
 bent over her. She could not smother her deeply-rooted preju- 
 dices against the enemies of her race, and the blasphemers of 
 her gods. 
 
 " I am happy," said the stranger, "in having been the instru- 
 ment of preserving your infant from the ravening wolf Though 
 our creeds differ they ought at least to concur in the natural law 
 of reciprocal benefaction. I rejoice to have saved the child of 
 one who has been taught to look upon me, and those who pro- 
 fess a similar faith, as fit to hold intercourse only with the scum 
 and off-scouring of human society, and trust that while such an 
 act offers an appeal to your gratitude, it will convey a lesson of 
 wisdom. I would that you should not only look upon me as the 
 saviour of your babe, but put me on the footing in social dignity 
 ^vith those of your own belief in matters concerning the life 
 which is to succeed the present, and think not that all virtue 
 expires when not fostered by the warm atmosphere of Hindoo 
 superstition." 
 
 " Stranger," replied the mother, looking tenderly upon her child, 
 now drawing from her the maternal nutriment, " I cannot gaze 
 upon this dear object without being sensible that, apart from all
 
 ■9 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 prejudices raised by tiiose conventional laws which different creeds 
 impose, I am your debtor for the greatest enjoyment which this 
 world can realise. You have restored the infant to its longing 
 mother, and whatever the restraint by which I may be repelled 
 from welcoming the saviour of my child with those outward ex- 
 pressions of acknowledgment which I might be permitted to show 
 to a member of my own faith, believe me I shall never forget that 
 the greatest debt of my life is due to one who is considered 
 the enemy of my country's gods, but whom I have found to be the 
 most signal and magnanimous of friends." 
 
 '• Perhaps the enthusiasm of your gratitude will subside when 
 you know to whom you have been indebted for the salvation of 
 your ofispring." 
 
 *' No ! — such knowledge cannot alter the fact of my obligation. I 
 may indeed regret the spiritual and social bar which lies between 
 us, but I never can forget the act which has restored to me a life 
 that I value far more dearly than my own. But may I ask to whom 
 I am indebted for such a signal act of magnanimity ?" 
 
 "To Mahmood of Ghizny, the most inveterate foe of your race, 
 who despises your gods, and is at this moment preparing to hurl 
 your gigantic divinity, installed in yonder gorgeous temple, from 
 its proud pedestal, and make its worshippers ashamed of having 
 so long prostrated themselves before a block of stone." 
 
 The lovely Hindoo shrank from her interlocutor when he de- 
 clared himself to be the greatest enemy of her nation's gods. She 
 trembled for the moment, but her high sense of moral obligation 
 bore down the weak fences of prejudice, and 'oUe assured him that 
 the preserver of her child could never merge in the enemy of her 
 race. 
 
 " Prepare," said Mahmood, " to behold me shortly enter those 
 walls in triumph ; but be assured of your own safety, and you may 
 yet live to know that the sovereign of Ghizny never professed a 
 kindness which he did not rigidly perform."
 
 CHAPTER ir. 
 
 THE Hindoo mother, having made her acknowledgments lo 
 the deliverer of her child, entered the walls of Somnat, and 
 sought her home. She related the adventure of the morning to 
 her husband, at this time lying ill of fever. He was a man of high 
 caste, and entertamed all the prejudices of his national super- 
 stitions in an eminent degree. This tendency was aggravated to 
 a morbid excess by his present illness- The relation greatly dis- 
 tressed him. The idea that his infant had been snatched from 
 death by a worshipper of gods which his nation did not recognise, 
 agitated him to a paroxysm of excitement. He raved, and cursed 
 the chances that had exposed his offspring to such pollution. He 
 would rather the woli had devoured it, than that it should have 
 owed its preservation to the arm of a Mussulman, and he the 
 greatest enemy of the Hindoos and their religion. 
 
 The Hindoo father was a young man of about thirty, handsome 
 and amiable, but a rigid observer of the national superstitions. He 
 was affectionate to his wife, in a degree seldom equalled by Hindoo 
 husbands, and she returned his tenderness with a pure and ardent 
 attachment. In spite, however, of his fondness, like all husbands of 
 his tribe he was not only a master but a tyrant. The wife was sub- 
 servient to an extent that rendered her domestic life a slavery ; but 
 being impressed with a conviction that such subserviency was the 
 proper sphere, because it was the destined lot of woman, she sub- 
 mitted without a murmur. Still she was relatively happy ; for, by 
 comparison with the generality of Hindoo wives, her social comforts 
 were considerable. She felt conscious of possessing her husband's 
 attachment ; and, though his general conduct towards her was autho- 
 ritative, it was seldom harsh. Had it been otherwise than authoritative, 
 she would have despised him as descending from the dignity of his 
 manhood, and foregoing the especial immunities of his privileged sex. 
 
 Upon the present occasion, harassed by suffering of body and 
 anxiety of mind, the sick man treated his young and lovely consort 
 with a severity which he had never before exercised.
 
 so THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 " The vengeance of Siva will be directed against this house foi 
 the folly of a woman. The god of Somnat has seen the pollution 
 offered to the offspring of one of his worshippers. Take heed 
 that the fiery gleam of his eye does not blast thee, when thou next 
 offerest thy oblations at his holy shrine." The youthful mother 
 raised her head ; the long lashes that fringed her soft but intensely 
 bright eyes were moistened with the dew of sadness. It gathered 
 gradually, until the weight of the liquid gem was too great a burden 
 for the trembling lashes to support, and then trickled slowly down 
 her clear brown cheek. She uttered not a word, but clasped her babe 
 with greater fervour to her bosom. The husband saw her emotion, 
 and was moved ; nevertheless, he bade her quit the apartment and 
 leave him to his repose, which, alas ! came not, for the excitement 
 had only aggravated his malady. ' He was scorched with fever ; 
 and, in the course of that night, his peril was imminent. The 
 tender partner of his home and of his love did not quit his side 
 for a moment. She saw his danger ; and the gloomy thought of 
 her own death came with the chill of a night-blast upon her soul. 
 The awful customs of her tribe forbade that she should outlive 
 him ; and the honible manner in which her death would be con- 
 summated seemed to freeze the very fountain of life as she thought 
 upon it. To be cut off by the appalling process of cremation, ere 
 the sweet fragrant blossom of existence had fairly opened into 
 womanhood, was a sad and bitter thought. Still, the sufferings of 
 the man she loved recalled her from these sad reflections, and she 
 gazed upon him with an interest in which, for the moment, all her 
 prospective sufferings were absorbed. He spoke not, but the 
 thought of that contamination, which he capposed to have passed 
 upon his child by the contact of on': of another creed, evidently 
 remained the paramount irapicssion on his mind; for when the 
 mother presented him her infant for a paternal caress, he turned 
 from it with a shudder, and refused to allow it to be brought 
 into his presence. 
 
 Hou: after hour the tender consort watched by his side, sub- 
 mittiiig without a murmur, or even a look of dissatisfaction, to 
 the petulance induced by his disease. She watched him as he
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 31 
 
 lay upon his rug— anticipated his wishes — soothed his sufferings — 
 prepared whatever he took with her own hand — but all her atten- 
 tions seemed likely to be bestowed in vain. The full, rapidly 
 throbbing pulse, the burning brow, the dry palm, and the brown 
 furred tongue, upon which the cool liquid was evaporated the 
 moment it came in contact with it, all proclaimed the jeopardy in 
 which the invalid lay. 
 
 The native physician by whom he was attended ordered him 
 decoctions, prepared from some lenitive herbs ; these had not the 
 slightest effect upon his disorder. When this arrived at a certain 
 height, and the medical visitor saw that all material remedies were 
 useless, he impressed upon the wife the necessity of immediately 
 repairing to the temple of Somnat, and supplicating the divine in- 
 tercession of its idol, promising her that her husband's health 
 would certainly be re-established, if she could only prevail upon 
 the stone divinity to listen to her supplications. 
 
 "All that art can do," said he, "I have done to restore this un- 
 happy man, who must soon yield up his spirit to be the inhabitant 
 of another body, unless the deity of our temple raise him up at 
 the intercession of a pious heart. Go, and may your prayer be 
 heard !" 
 
 This was no very encouraging expectation. The unhappy young 
 creature now felt assured that her husband could not live, unless 
 restored by superhuman means. The creed in which she had 
 been reared taught her to trust in the efficacy of such means, and 
 to believe that they would be accorded to a pious solicitation ; 
 she was therefore determined to offer her supplications in the 
 temple, in the hope of averting her husband's death, which, in 
 fact, would involve her own. At this moment a Brahmin, and 
 one of the officiating priests of the sanctuary, entered the sick 
 man's apartment. He was a sanctified man, with a gross, misshaj^en 
 body, gross from indolence and indulgence, and bearing about 
 him the unequivocal marks of the coarse bloated Sybarite. His 
 shorn scalp bore not indeed the frost of age, but the deep cor- 
 rugations by which the forehead was crossed showed, in characters 
 too legible to need interpretation, that time had already prepared
 
 3^ THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 the furrows for the seeds of death. The old man's countenance 
 was haggard, though placid ; but it was placid rather from in- 
 sensibility, than from the access of elevated feeling. The eye was 
 sunk beneath a projecting brow, that hid much of its expression, 
 and its faded lustre spoke not that mute language of passion which 
 his heart frequently prompted, but which the eye was too lustreless 
 to betray. His legs were shrunk to the bones, and seemed scarcely 
 able to bear the burthen of obesity which laziness and indulgence 
 had imposed upon them. He hobbled to the couch of the dying 
 man, looked at him for a moment, doubled his legs under him as 
 he seated himself upon the floor, desired the cocoa-nut hookah to 
 be brought, and, having inhaled the sedative luxury for a few 
 moments, said, with an air of the utmost unconcern, " Thy soul 
 is about to assume a new body ; what are thy hopes ?" 
 
 The invalid said faintly — " I have not lived an unholy life, and 
 therefore hope that I shall be advanced one step towards ab- 
 sorption* into Bhrim, when my spirit throws off the vile crust by 
 which it has been encumbered here." 
 
 " Then you are prepared for the change — you are tired of this 
 world?" 
 
 " No," said the dying man with energy, " I would fain live, 
 because there is a dark uncertainty in the future that clogs my 
 spirit and weighs it down. It is an awful thing to die, and I would 
 if possible escape death until age should no longer encourage a 
 desire of life." 
 
 " Dost thou think old men wish to die ?" 
 
 " If their lives have been virtuous, why should they desire to 
 live, when their capabilities of earthly enjoyments are past?" 
 
 " Because to them there is the same uncertainty in the future as 
 to thee. In life there is positive enjoyment to the last ; with the 
 end of life what guarantee have we for the joys of a future exis- 
 tence ? — they may be visionary." 
 
 * The belief of the Hindoos generally is that, after a course of progressive 
 changes, through each of which the soul advances to a Iiigher state of purifica- 
 tion, it is finally absorbed into the Deity, which is, as they conceive, the per* 
 feet consumnaation of bliss.
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 33 
 
 " But the blessed Vedas teach us otherwise ?" 
 
 " Ay, the blessed Vedas ! they cannot be gainsaid ; they are 
 the voice of the divinity : Krishna speaketh through them, but 
 then they are the sealed oracles, which only we of the sanctuary 
 can expound ; and they promise that reliance upon the minister^ 
 of our temple will be rewarded in the metempsychosis. There is 
 still hope of thy release from this perilous malady. Let thy wife 
 visit the temple, and bow before the image — the deity of our race, 
 and thou shalt have thy health return to thee." 
 
 He continued smoking for a few moments, during which not a 
 voice inten-upted the silence. Having swallowed a large pill of 
 opium, he rose, and taking the invalid's wife on one side, said to 
 her, in a low, husky whisper — " The hand of death is upon thy 
 husband ; nothing short of divine interposition can save him. If 
 he dies, you know that his widow must accompany him to the 
 swerga." 
 
 " I am prepared for the sacrifice. Fear not that I shall degrade 
 my lineage by shrinking from performing that solemn obligation 
 which the most perfect of all religions imposes upon the bereaved 
 widow. It is her blessed privilege ; I shall not forego it." 
 
 " But would you not willingly evade the consummation of so 
 dreadful a sacrifice ?" 
 
 " No ; I would, under no consideration, evade the performance 
 of an obligation as sacred as it is awful, and obligatory in propor- 
 tion as it is sacred." 
 
 " Nay, these are not your real sentiments ; you need use no 
 disguise with me. I can save you from the necessity of dying 
 upon the pile, if you'll make it worth a priest's while to risk the 
 peace of his own soul in that strange land of darkness or of light — 
 who shall say which ? — whither thy husband is rapidly hastening !" 
 
 " Save me ! Why would you save me from a sacrifice which I 
 deem an immunity from mortal cares ? In this life, a woman's 
 condition is one of endurance, of slavery, of pain ; I would be 
 glad to enter upon an existence where each and all are unknown." 
 
 " You speak indeed like a feeble woman. Do you not know 
 that, if your body is consumed with your husband's on tlie funeral 
 
 INDIA. - D
 
 34 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 pile, your soul will follow his to whatever destiny it may be ap- 
 pointed ? This is a sad hazard, for he dies in the prime of man- 
 hood, when the blood is warm and the senses are all full of the 
 glo^\ing warmth of young and vigorous life. He has had no time 
 to expiate, by penance the miscarriages of youthful years. The 
 mellowing hand of age has not yet taught him experience, nor the 
 penalties of indulgence wisdom. Thou art too lovely to follow 
 \im to a future doom that befits thee not." 
 
 By this time the opium was beginning to act upon the aged 
 debauchee, and his eyes emitted the fire, and his limbs the elas- 
 ticity of youth — so potential is that debasing drug. The lovely 
 Hindoo was shocked ; but it was dangerous to offend a Brahmin. 
 Advancing, he laid his shrivelled hand upon her shoulder, and 
 said — " Daughter, come to the temple this night, and bring thy 
 offerings to the idol ; be assured thou shalt not want an intercessor. 
 Think no more of burning. When thy husband dies, thou mayst 
 yet be happy. The multitude must think that the sacrifice is per- 
 formed, but trust to me, and feeble as this arm may seem, it will 
 prove an arm of might in thy protection — it shall snatch thee from 
 the flames." 
 
 " Leave me," said the unhappy wife ; " one who knows her duty, 
 and how to perform it, needs no adviser but her conscience. I 
 shall endeavour to propitiate the divinity, by presenting my obla- 
 tions before the presiding deity of our holy temple, and there lay 
 my hopes." 
 
 " This evening we shall meet," said the Brahmin, as he retired 
 with an alacrity peculiar alike to robust youth and opium. 
 
 The faithful, though unhappy wife, crept softly to her husband's 
 side, and gazed upon him with a glance of anxious inquiry, but 
 spoke not, fearing to disturb him. Overcome by his exertion of 
 talking with the Brahmin, he had fallen into a deep but disturbed 
 sleep.
 
 35 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE sun went down in glory, and smiled upon its own land 
 when it withdrew behind the ocean, as if unwilling longer to 
 look upon the griefs with which the world that had so lately glowed 
 with its pure vivid light was encumbered. Evening suddenly flung 
 her shadows over the city of Somnat, but the stars sparkled in the 
 purple concave of heaven like children of joy, imparting a beautiful 
 relief to the grave solemnity of night. 
 
 At rather a late hour the melancholy wife quitted the side of 
 her husband, whose malady had not abated, and repaired to the 
 magnificent temple of Somnat, at that time the most celebrated in 
 Hindostan. It stood upon an elevated part of the town, and 
 covered a vast space of ground. It was a ponderous edifice, exhi- 
 biting that elaborate detail of ornament combined with massive 
 grandeur peculiar to the early Hindoo temples. Within, it consisted 
 of one vast aisle several hundred feet long, the roof supported on 
 either side by magnificent columns, ornamented even to superfluity 
 with sculpture, each column detailing an episode from the Maha- 
 barat. Every pillar was cut from a single block of granite, elaborated 
 with an accuracy of touch, and a justness of proportion, not 
 exceeded by any monuments of ancient art, save those of Greece. 
 The light was admitted through a vast dome in the centre, beneath 
 which the huge idol stood like a Colossus, casting one unvarying 
 expression of grim insensibility upon its prostrate but humble 
 adorers. The figure was of stone, clumsily wrought into a mon- 
 strous form. The head was ornamented with gems of prodigious 
 value, similar gems being likewise fixed in every pillar of the temple. 
 Its eyes were formed of two rubies of such transcendent lustre as 
 to inspire the worshippers with a holy awe when they prostrated 
 themselves before this hideous image. 
 
 There were no lights used in the temple at night except one 
 pendent lamp, the light of which being reflected from the jewels 
 in the idol's head, and from those fixed in the various columns 
 that adorned the sacred edifice, spotted the whole area with 
 
 D 2
 
 35 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 a dazzling gleam which appeared the effect of superhuman 
 agency.* 
 
 The most costly offerings were daily made to this factitious 
 divinity, but the depository of its immense wealth was a secret, as 
 the Brahmins pretended, known only to the deity to whom it had 
 been dedicated. On two sides of the temple were various apart- 
 ments occupied by the functionaries of the sanctuary, which no 
 persons were permitted to enter, save those to whose habitation 
 they had been especially appropriated. Strange and mysterious 
 events were said frequently to take place within those secret and 
 forbidden retreats, supposed to be hallowed by the holy lives of 
 their spiritual occupants. 
 
 The Brahmin who had recently visited the invalid had an apart- 
 ment near the shrine, and was one of the officiating priests in this 
 fane of superstition, where, under the mask of religion, the most 
 revolting abominations were nightly practised. Like the Eleusinian 
 mysteries, they were hidden from the public eye, as only fit to be 
 witnessed by those whom it would seem to have been thought 
 that vice had sanctified. 
 
 With a resolved but throbbing heart the beautiful Hindoo wife 
 entered within the black narrow portal of this gorgeous but gloomy 
 structure. The lower part of the edifice was involved in a shadowy 
 light which imparted a cavernous solemnity to this house of a most 
 unholy worship. The huge idol rose amid the distance surrounded 
 by a blaze of light that filled the dome in which the colossal image 
 stood, but did not extend far enough to pierce the distant gloom. 
 
 As she stalked forward with a measured pace, the monstrous 
 figures surrounding the columns seemed to glare upon her from 
 their granite pedestals like so many petrified ogres. Her heart 
 throbbed with emotion. The object of her visit at this dark hour of 
 night rose to her memory with an impetuous impulse, whilst the asso- 
 ciations of the gloom of the grave, and that of the consecrated edifice 
 which she had now entered for the purpose of propitiating a deaf 
 and dumb idol for the benefit of a departing soul, and to arres^ 
 
 This is stated in the Zein-ool-Maasir,
 
 THE IDOL OP SOMNA 1\ 37 
 
 the summons of death, sent a chill through the whole mass of her 
 blood which seemed to reach and congeal the very fountain of life. 
 When she reached the dome there was not a person but herself 
 that she could perceive in the sanctuary. The light of the solitary 
 lamp hanging from the centre of the dome was reflected from 
 thousands of brilliant gems which cast a radiance around the 
 figure of intense and dazzling brilliancy. She prostrated herself 
 before the image, and poured the full tide of her heart's emotions 
 in a prayer for the restoration of her husband. 
 
 A general belief prevailed among the Hindoos of that part of 
 the country that souls after death were summoned before the Idol 
 of Somnat, which transported them into other bodies according to 
 their merits in this life, where he became a sort of Hindoo Rhada- 
 manthus, resembling that infernal justiciary, however, in nothing 
 less than in the rigid impartiality of his justice. It was also 
 declared by the Brahmins belonging to this celebrated temple, that 
 the ebb and flow of the tides represented the reverence paid by 
 the ocean to this shrine. 
 
 Having paid her devotions, the supplicant approached the base 
 of the idol, and laid a handful of gold upon it ; for her husband 
 was wealthy, and the god of Somnat never heard a vow that was 
 not accompanied by an offering. She prayed that her husband 
 might be spared to her ; or, if the slender thread of his destiny 
 was already spun, that his soul might be transferred into a nobler 
 body, and be thus advanced one step nearer to that final and 
 beatific state of absorption so anxiously desired by all faithful 
 Hindoos. As she concluded, there was a strange unearthly sound 
 heard from within the image ; the eyes seemed to glow with more 
 intense brightness, ah^ when she rose from her posture of prostra- 
 tion, to her surprise the aged Brahmin who had lately visited her 
 husband stood before her. She looked upon him, however, with- 
 out apprehension, feeling herself in the presence of an omnipotent 
 agent, and not entertaining a thought, in the innocence of her pure 
 heart, that the altar of deity could be polluted by the most licen- 
 tious impurities. 
 
 **Thc divinity is propitiated," said the sanctified impostor.
 
 38 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 " Yoiu prayers have been heard, and you are favoured wiih the 
 especial notice of one, in whose term of life the Maha Yug* is no 
 more than a single instant, by comparison with this earth's dura- 
 tion. Prepare to meet the god at midnight." 
 
 "You mock me. Does the deity condescend to become incar- 
 nate, and reveal himself in a mortal body to his worshippers ?" 
 
 " Yes : where it is his will to favour those whose homage he 
 approves, he reveals himself to them in the likeness of his creatures, 
 generally assuming the form of some devout priest, whose minis- 
 trations he especially approves, and thus signifies his approval. 
 You will see him this night, under the similitude of a favourite 
 Brahmin. He has determined to grant your supplications." 
 
 She was astonished at this communication. The reverence in 
 which she had been accustomed to hold the character of the priest- 
 hood — the wild solemnity of the scene around her — the dazzling 
 light that seemed supernaturally to float over the ponderous image 
 — the excitement under which she laboured, from her anxiety for 
 her husband's welfare and the issue of her appeal — the promise 
 that her supplications had been favourably heard — all tended to 
 throw her into such a tumult of agitation, that she became 
 bewildered ; and, under the impulse of superstitious enthusiasm, 
 consented to meet the god at midnight. 
 
 Guileless as the mother dove, she did not dream that danger 
 could accrue from her meeting a spiritual being who merely con- 
 descended to assume the garb of mortal flesh, in order to render 
 himself intelligible to mortal faculties ; and as, according to the 
 impure creed in which she had been reared, gods had occasionally 
 united themselves to mortals in an alliance of love, her heart's 
 purity was not shocked at the idea which the Brahmin broadly 
 hinted, of the divinity of Somnat favouring her by such especial 
 predilection. She was aware also that her husband, as well as 
 herself, would look upon it as a signal mark of distinction, and 
 
 * The Maha Yug, or great Divine Age, is the longest of the Hindoo 
 astronomical periods, containing a cycle of four milliau tiuree hundred and 
 twenty thousand years-
 
 THE IDOL OP SOMNAT. 39 
 
 feel himself honoured at his wife's exaltation by so eminent a 
 token of divine preference. 
 
 The wily Brahmin, however, knew his victim too well to suppose 
 that, notwithstanding her visionary impressions, she would fall an 
 easy prey ; and it was only whilst he could keep up the delusion 
 under which she then laboured, that he would find her a submis- 
 sive votary at the shrine of the most odious superstition which has 
 ever degraded the sacred name of religion. In order to maintain 
 the excitement by which she was at that moment actuated, and 
 strengthen the impressions to which she was expected to become 
 a prey, some of those abominable mummeries were performed, so 
 commonly practised at the altars of Hindoo gods. A number of 
 dancing girls were introduced, who went through various obscene 
 antics before the idol, in which several Brahmins joined, with all 
 the apparent enthusiasm of an absorbing devotion. 
 
 The beautiful Hindoo looked on without a blush, under the 
 persuasion that these were sacred ministrations peculiar to the 
 divinity of Somnat, and she came to the conclusion that such 
 were the pleasures in which that divinity delighted to revel. 
 After these orgies had been gone through, and the temple of 
 religion made a scene of revolting indecency, the lamp was sud- 
 denly extinguished, and the imniense edifice involved in profound 
 darkness. The young wife was confounded. She heard the 
 laughter of those who, like the Greek bacchantes, had been per 
 forming the grossest scenes in the very presence of their deity, and 
 shouts of joy seemed to issue from a thousand throats. She 
 stood mute, between astonishment and apprehension. Her awe 
 had given way to momentary terror. She was preparing to retreat 
 toward the portal through which she had entered, when a soft 
 but repulsive voice caught her ear : 
 
 " Come to the embrace of the god ; he awaits thee ; 'tis mid- 
 night, and he is impatient to meet thee." 
 
 Her heart palpitated ; she was struck with a sudden suspicion. 
 The voice was evidently disguised, but, to her quick ear, could 
 not be mistaken : it was that of the Brahmin. Her brain flashed 
 with instant conviction, as if the deity had lighted up her sod
 
 40 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 with a positive revelation. The impulse was irresistible. The 
 illusions of superstition vanished, and she felt herself in the 
 meshes of the betrayer. She gasped for breath ; she spoke not ; 
 she groped for a resting-place, and her arm fell upon the pedestal 
 of the idol. 
 
 " Come," said the voice, in a gentle whisper; " why this delay? 
 The god is impatient, and he is not used to be slighted : where 
 he honours, he expects obedience. Come !" 
 
 " Avaunt ! deceiver," she cried. " You have marked me for 
 your victim. I am betrayed. Why should the divinity of Somnat 
 assume tlie form of an aged and deformed Brahmin, when he 
 might clothe himself in the fairest garb of mortal flesh ? My 
 dream is past. I am your dupe. Away, and leave me. Never 
 will I submit to pollution by one who makes religion a pander to 
 his odious passions. A light has broken upon me. The deity 
 has indeed heard my supplication, and saved me from the machi- 
 nations of one who will swell the ranks of the Asuras, amid the 
 darkness of Lohangaraka."* 
 
 The Brahmin, finding himself foiled, quitted his expected 
 victim in a fury of disappointment. 
 
 She stood alone, leaning on the image, rapt in a trance of 
 painful abstraction. Suddenly she felt the idol totter ; a noise 
 was heard from within, like the hissing of ten thousand serpents, 
 immediately after which fire issued from the nose and mouth of 
 the image, and fell in thick showers around. The whole temple 
 was illuminated, and the door instantly became visible to the wor- 
 shipper. She darted forward in spite of every impediment, and 
 11 length succeeded in gaining the entrance. She felt the pure 
 breath of heaven upon her burning brow, and rejoiced in her 
 escape. Reaching her home at length, in a tumult of hope and 
 anxiety, she found that her husband had gone to that land where 
 " there is time no longer." 
 
 * The last of the thrice seven hells of the Hindoos. Lohangaraka signifies 
 hot iron coals.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IMMEDIATE communication was made to the relations of 
 the defunct, that the deity of Somnat had heard the 
 prayers of his relict, and he that was transported to a higher region, 
 to be subjected to a change in the course of his transmigration 
 that would bring him nearer to the final bliss of absorption into 
 [he universal Bhrim. The various connexions of the deceased 
 vv^ere all summoned, and the neighbourhood immediately resounded 
 with cries of lamentation, and those frantic ululations invariably 
 heard at Hindoo funerals. The women stood screaming over 
 the body with dishevelled hair, beating their breasts and rolling 
 themselves upon the floor like so many wild beasts, whilst the 
 disconsolate widow sat apart, abstracted by the thoughts of her 
 own approaching sacrifice. She moved not ; her eye was fixed 
 on the ground, but the fountains of her grief were dry. Not a 
 tear came to her relief — not a sigh escaped her bosom. The one 
 awful image of death, in its most appalling form, absorbed her 
 whole mind. 
 
 The Brahmin, before spoken of, appeared to officiate upon this 
 melancholy occasion. He whispered in the widow's ear words of 
 consolation and hope, but she heard him not. He talked of her 
 rescue from the fiery death about to be prepared for her; she 
 disregarded him, and turned from the aged sensualist with an ex- 
 pression of disgust. His eyes gleamed in their hollow sockets 
 with a deep leaden glare, and the blood rushed a moment to his 
 flaccid cheek. He turned from his anticipated victim to proceed 
 with the obsequies. When everything had been provided, the 
 spiritual functionary, having previously bathed, took a narrow slip 
 of a certain herb, and binding it round one of the fingers of the 
 deceased, sprinkled upon the floor a quantity of lustral water, 
 obtained from the sacred river,* a libation to the god?, whom he 
 
 * The Ganges.
 
 <3 THE IDOL OF- SOMNA T. 
 
 invoked with numerous prostrations, and a variety of wild gestures. 
 The people assembled joined in a prayer for the future repose of 
 their relative's souL 
 
 When this part of the ceremony had been performed, in the 
 s,trictest manner prescribed by their formularies, fire was brought 
 from the temple, where it had been purposely kindled, and certain 
 herbs, consecrated to this solemn purpose, were disposed near thfe 
 body in four different places. Some relatives of the deceased cast 
 into the fire a quantity of dried cow-dung pulverized. During this 
 portion of the preparatory rites, the officiating Brahmin was occu- 
 pied in prayer, but paused in the midst of his orison, to perform 
 an essential part of the funeral solemnities. A cow, adorned with 
 flowers, was introduced at this auspicious juncture, and presented 
 to the minister to prevent the defunct from being unhappy in his 
 mutation, which the venerable hierophant promised, without any 
 reservation, that he should not be, in consequence of the Brahmin's 
 prayers. Several off"erings of a different kind, but no less valuable, 
 were made to this disinterested priest before the obsequies were 
 completed. 
 
 The ceremony of the Prayatchitam, cr expiation of sins, was 
 next performed. It consisted of prayers, after which the soul of 
 the deceased was evoked, and certain astrological calculations 
 made respecting the constellation under which he expired. 
 
 The body was now washed. On the forehead was marked the 
 sigh of the caste, with a compost of ochre, fine clay, and oil ; it 
 was then arrayed in the funeral robe, and a piece of areka-nut 
 forced into its mouth. A small fillet of linen was next torn into 
 strips over the face ; with those strips the two thumbs were tied, 
 and the corpse being rubbed with a piece of sandal-wood, which 
 emits a very strong and fragrant odour, was laid upon a palankeen 
 coverea Witn rea cicjin, .^e Hindoo pall, and ornamented with 
 
 flowers. 
 
 A large aperture was now made in the wall of the house, which 
 had no second story, and through this the body was conveyed in 
 a sitting posture to the pile, the aperture being closed up the 
 moment the corpse had been carried through.
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 43 
 
 When the procession had reached the gate of the court fronting 
 the house, it was preceded by two men nearly naked, bearing each 
 a long trumpet, the mournful sound of which, as dissonant as it 
 was loud, blended with the noise of tomtoms, finger-drums, 
 cymbals, and various other noisy instruments, produced a din 
 sufficient to scare the living into the condition of the dead. To 
 this portentous clamour the numerous relatives of the deceased 
 united their wild wailings, more Hke the baying of dogs than the 
 lamentations of rational beings. Some cried, others screamed and 
 tore their hair, whilst several sang the praises of the defunct in a 
 hoarse monotonous chant. The dress of these energetic mourners 
 consisted simply of a single piece of cloth wrapped round their 
 bodies, hanging from the head to the knees. 
 
 When the procession reached its destination, the palankeen was 
 placed upon the ground, four furrows were traced towards the four 
 cardinal points and oblations of gengeli and rice were offered to 
 those aerial spirits supposed to inhabit the mansions of the dead, 
 in order to propitiate their goodwill. 
 
 The nose of the defunct was now pinched, to ascertain if there 
 remained any signs of life; for the Hindoos suppose that the dead 
 may be resuscitated, though no such fact is recorded by their 
 fabricators of marvels. Water was next poured upon the head of 
 the corpse, and the noise of tomtoms and trumpets was redoubled, 
 to awaken the dead man should he happen to be in a trance. It 
 being at length ascertained that the spirit had quitted, and not 
 returned to the insensate clay, the body was again placed on the 
 palankeen and carried close to the spot intended for the funeral 
 pile, the immediate vicinity having been first purified with Gan- 
 getic water, and cleared of every particle of dirt supposed to 
 convey defilement. This portion of the ceremony ^as accom- 
 panied with numerous prayers and prostrations. 
 
 All these forms having been scrupulously observed, the corpse 
 was placed upon a stone always erected near the Chodelet, which 
 is the place appointed for cremation of the deceased. This stone 
 represents Aritchandren, a virtuous king, who, becoming slave to 
 *lie chief of the Pariahs, was employed by his master to take care
 
 tHR IDOL OF BOM NAT, 
 
 of the Chodelet, and receive the taxes to be paid on burning the 
 dead. After various fantastic mummeries and vociferous sup- 
 plications, some pieces of copper money were buried before 
 Aritchandren, together vvith a small bit of new cloth and a handful 
 of rice, by way of a burial fee. One of the Pariahs, whose office 
 it was to look after the fire, then approached the stone, and in- 
 formed Aritchandren,* that, having received the regular tribute, 
 he must permit the body to pass. The palankeen was now sent 
 Z)ack, the hair and nails of the defunct were carefully cut, and the 
 funeral pile was prepared. Branches of the sandal tree were made 
 use of for this purpose, it being imagined by all pious Hindoos 
 that this tree has more virtue than any other, save the mango, in 
 promoting the happiness of the deceased, both being trees con- 
 secrated to their gods. Branches of the ficus religiosa and of the 
 banian tree are occasionally used, but only by those who cannot 
 afford to purchase the more costly wood of the rarer trees. 
 
 The pile being at length prepared, the corpse was placed upon 
 it. The nearest relation performed this melancholy office, and 
 prepared the last repast for the dead. In order that the departed 
 might go into the other world with sufficient food for his journey, 
 butter, rice, and curds were put into the hands, mouth, and ears 
 of the corpse. 
 
 Thus ended this part of the ceremony.f It was a long and 
 tiresome process, but nothing could divert those engaged in it 
 from performing the minutest thing prescribed in their formulary. 
 On the morning of the Hindoo's death, alarm had been spread 
 through the town of the approach of Mahmood's army, which 
 report was shortly after confirmed by his investing the fort with 
 thirty thousand men. This did not in the slightest degree interrupt 
 the obsequies. Not a creature present seemed to bestow a thought 
 upon the danger of being threatened by a large besieging army, 
 headed by a great prince and a successful warrior. They relied 
 
 * The Greek Charon and this Hindoo toll-taker would appear to be identi- 
 cal ; but the Greeks have been indebted to Hindoo superstition for manyothel 
 notions, the parallels of which are too strong to be mistaken. 
 
 t See Sonnerat, vol. ii., on Hindoo funerals.
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. /JS 
 
 apon the protection of their idol, which they imagined could blast 
 the enemy with the lightning of its wrath, and rescue them from the 
 threatened peril. They heard the din of battle while engaged in 
 performing the funeral rites, but it diverted them not from their 
 solemn purpose. The name of Mahmood the victorious was 
 shouted without the walls, and re-echoed within them with a general 
 acclamation of defiance. Thousands of unarmed fanatics crowded 
 the ramparts, confident of divine interposition, and loaded the air 
 with curses upon the followers of a new faith. 
 
 During the performance of the funeral rites, the beautiful widow 
 had remained apart, absorbed in the solemn intensity of her own 
 thoughts. The death of a husband whom she tenderly loved shook 
 her heart with a severe pang, and the thought of the awful sacrifice 
 which his death imposed upon her dilated her bosom with a deep 
 and palpable terror ; still she resolved to die. With her the high 
 sense of duty was paramount over every selfish consideration, and 
 she braced her resolution to undergo one of the most fearful 
 sacrifices which the madness of bigotry has imposed upon the 
 credulity of devout but imbecile minds. 
 
 The body of her husband was already upon the fatal pyre, and 
 all things were ready for her to consummate that act of devotion, 
 which, as she had been taught to believe, should secure her an 
 eternal communion with her consort in paradise. The Brahmin 
 approached her to announce that she was waited for. He 
 advanced towards her alone, and bade her be of good cheer. 
 
 " Thou shalt not perish," he cried ; " trust to me and I will save 
 thee, to reap the harvest of joy in an earthly paradise, before you 
 ascend to one of brighter promise mdeed, but of more remote 
 certainty." 
 
 " What mean you? IMy doom is fixed. I must join my husband 
 upon the funeral pile, that our souls may ascend together to that 
 sphere which his spirit is destined to enter." 
 
 *' But would you not rather evade this fiery death?" 
 
 " Why should I ? Is it not imposed upon us by a wise and 
 immutable will ? — how then can I evade it ?" 
 
 ^* Would you rather live ?"
 
 4« THE IDOL OP SOMNAT. 
 
 " Not if it be my duty to die." 
 
 " You are not bound to perish unless you desire it. The deity 
 will absolve you from the obligation upon certain conditions." 
 
 " What are they ?" 
 
 " That you will reward with your love his vicegerent here, 
 whose ministration he has approved, and to whom he has im- 
 parted superhuman power, as the reward of a life of faithful homage. 
 I will bear you to a retreat where no sorrow shall visit you, and 
 where every moment of your life shall be gilded with a blessing." 
 
 " Mocker ! — this is no time for delusion : bear me to the p>Te, 
 and you shall see how a Hindoo widow can die." 
 
 " But why would you court death, when happiness is within 
 your grasp !" 
 
 " Because death with a beloved husband were a blessed boon 
 compared with life with an aged and sensual Brahmin. Priest, I 
 despise thee : — lead me to the pyre." 
 
 The Brahmin was silent. He folded his arms, and fixed upon 
 her a look of deep and implacable malice. 
 
 " I fear thee not," she cried, rising ; " conduct me to my doom ; 
 the gods will applaud what their priest may scorn ; but I reverence 
 the one and despise the other." She beckoned to her women, 
 who approached, and declared to them that she was ready to 
 ascend the pyre, upon which her husband's body had been already 
 some time laid. The ministering priest did not utter a word, and 
 made ready to commence the initiatory ceremonies. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE unhappy widow now prepared herself to perform the 
 dreadful sacrifice which was to free her from the cares of 
 this world and exalt her to the Swerga bowers, or Hindoo paradise. 
 She was stationed before the door of the house of mourning in a 
 kind of rostrum, which was profusely and extravagantly ornamented; 
 tomtoms, trumpets, and cymbals continuing their deafening clangour
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 47 
 
 as before. She placed a small piece of areka-nut between her almost 
 motionless lips and softly aspirated the name of Somnat's idol. 
 She next adorned her head, neck, and arms with all her jewels, 
 arraying herself in sumptuous apparel, as if about to appear at the 
 marriage ceremony, instead of a funeral solemnity. 
 
 The array of her person being concluded, she proceeded toward 
 the place nf sacrifice, accompanied by numerous friends, to the 
 sound of those instruments which had already preceded the pro- 
 cession of her husband's body. Several Brahmins, including the 
 hierophant, walked by her side encouraging her with assurances 
 that she was going to enjoy eternal felicity in regions where there 
 is no misery known, and where she would become the sita* of some 
 god who would espouse her as a reward for her constancy and virtue. 
 They further promised her that her name should be celebrated 
 throughout the earth, and sung in all their future sacrifices. This 
 proves a strong stimulus to some women, who go to the pile 
 voluntarily, and with an enthusiasm truly astonishing ; for there is 
 no legal obligation to perform the suttee. 
 
 A cup was now handed to the unhappy victim of the most bar- 
 barous superstition that has ever stained the black annals of 
 fanaticism. She drank of it without the slightest emotion. In a 
 few minutes the effects of this draught were visible. Her eyes 
 glistened ; she erected her frame to the full height of her stature, 
 and looked around her with a flushed cheek and stern severity of 
 purpose which sufficiently showed that the fever of enthusiasm was 
 beginning to circulate rapidly through her veins. As the aged 
 Brahmin approached her, she looked at him with a glance of 
 defiant scorn, and pointing to the pile on which the corpse 
 of her husband had been laid, said, with a raised brow and flash- 
 ing eye — • 
 
 " Dost thou think I would escape that fiery passage to ever- 
 lasting repose ? Thou wouldst withhold me from my glory. My 
 soul shall ascend on wings of flame to the abodes of those who 
 never die. I see the beckoning spirit in yonder cloud waiting to 
 
 Bride.
 
 48 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 bear mine to its eternal home. Thou wouldst tear me from my 
 bliss. Away, away !" 
 
 She immediately grew calm and began to prepare for the sacri. 
 fice with a truly sublime solemnity. Her relations came to her, 
 with an alacrity that showed how gratified they felt at the oblation 
 she was about to offer. The place was surrounded by an immense 
 concourse, upon whom the victim occasionally cast a glance of 
 pity mixed with triumph at the approaching consummation of her 
 her destiny. The music, if such it might be termed, had ceased 
 while the preliminaries of the sacrifice were taking place, and an 
 intense and awful silence reigned among the assembled multitude. 
 
 The beautiful widow now advanced to the foot of the pyre, 
 prepared to consume that exquisite frame in the early freshness 
 of its blossoming youth. The Brahmins crowded round her, en- 
 deavouring to sustain her fortitude to endure the coming trial by 
 songs in which they artfully introduced the most fulsome eulogies 
 of her heroism. This appeared to elevate her courage amid the 
 awful array of death. It was now announced to her that the fatal 
 moment had arrived when the flames were to embrace one of the 
 most perfect bodies that Nature had ever moulded. She did not 
 quail at the summons. Her eye dilated, her nostrils expanded, 
 her lips parted, and her whole countenance was lighted up wuth a 
 sublime energy of expression that recorded, with the mute but 
 soul-stirring voice of an oracle, the deep and solemn purpose 
 which engrossed her soul. She stood a few moments as if in 
 prayer. Her babe was brought and placed within the arms of 3 
 once yearning mother. The feelings of nature revived. She spoke 
 not, but pressed it tenderly to her bosom. Tears streamed do-vvn 
 her cheeks in a flood, still not a feature quivered. The palpita- 
 tions of her heart were perceptible under the slight muslin drapery 
 that covered her bosom. It heaved beneath the suppressed throes 
 of her emotion, but the countenance betrayed not the internal 
 struggle. Her tears gradually ceased to flow. Her eye cleared 
 and resumed its former expression of solemn determination, and 
 she waved her hand as a signal that she was ready. 
 
 Two Brahmins now advanced with lighted torches. Having
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 49 
 
 fervently kissed her infant, she placed it in the arms of an atten- 
 dant, and it was instantly removed from her sight. At this 
 moment her nearest relations approached ; to these she bade a 
 tender adieu. Having distributed her jewels among them, she 
 embraced them severally, when they retired and left her alcne 
 with the ninisters of death. 
 
 Not a breath stirred among the multitude as she prepared to 
 ascend the pile. Hundreds stood agape with awe at witnessing 
 the solemn spectacle. Having performed certain preliminary 
 rites, a signal was given by the chief Brahmin, when she raised 
 her dark but bloodless brow towards heaven, sprang upon the 
 pile, embraced her husband's corpse, and in a few moments was 
 enveloped in flames and smoke, which hid her from the sight of 
 those who had assembled to behold this dreadful sacrifice. 
 
 No sooner was the fire kindled than the notes of innumerable 
 instruments were heard, shouts and acclamations rent the air, in 
 order to prevent the sufferer's screams of agony being heard. 
 Ghee was poured upon the burning pyre to accelerate the horrible 
 process of destmction, and the flames raged with such fury that 
 in a short time not a vestige remained but the ashes of the dead. 
 The crowd then quietly dispersed, rejoicing at having witnessed 
 so acceptable a holocaust. 
 
 While this dreadful act of superstition was performing, the town 
 of Somnat was in a state of siege ; still the turbid stream of fanati- 
 cism was not diverted from its course. When the IMahomedans 
 invested Somnat, the citizens had flocked from all parts and 
 crowded the ramparts to repel the enemy ; but so soon as they 
 saw their formidable airay, the discipline of their troops, and the 
 fearless manner in which they mshed to the assault, the astonisl^ed 
 Hindoos, alarmed for their own safety, thronged to the temple by 
 hundreds, prostrating themselves before their favourite idol, and 
 supplicating deliverance from their foes. Many, drowned in tears, 
 vowed to perform sundry dreadful penances in case the Mahomc- 
 dans were repelled from their walls ; but the idol returned no 
 answer to their petitions. 
 
 Mahmood, perceiving the ramparts almost deserted, ordered 
 
 INDIA. E
 
 go 7HR IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 his troops to advance to the walls and apply the scaling-ladders, 
 which was instantly done ; and they commenced to mount the 
 lamparts, shouting aloud " Allah Akbar !" God is great ! Thos* 
 Hindoos who remained upon the battlements, offered a spirited 
 resistance. With the wild energy of despair they rushed upon the 
 Mahomedan soldiers as they ascended, and threw them headlong 
 from the ladders. Hearing the noise of the assault, and the 
 enemy's war-cry, those citizens who had quitted the walls in order 
 to jDropitiate their divinity by prayer, returned to the ramparts in 
 vast numberS; and opposed themselves to the besiegers. These 
 latter, no longer able to retain their footing, wearied with their 
 exertions, and dispirited by such unexpected opposition, fell back 
 on all sides, and were at length obliged to retire. 
 
 Next morning the action was renewed with no better success, 
 for as fast as the besiegers scaled the walls they were cast down 
 backward by the besieged, who now gaining confidence from the 
 advantage obtained on the preceding day, resolved to defend their 
 city to the last. They imagined that the divinity who presided 
 over Somnat had heard their prayers, and would not permit their 
 foes to triumph over them ; and under this impression they fought 
 with a resolution that bore down all opposition. They poured 
 into the temple after the repulse of their enemies with offerings to 
 their idol, which were of course accepted, to their great joy and 
 that of the divinity's ministers, who undertook to dispose of those 
 offerings in a manner worthy of the liberality of the devotees who 
 presented them. 
 
 Mahmood was perplexed beyond measure at the disastrous 
 issue of the siege. He saw his army daily diminishing in an 
 undertaking upon which he had set his heart. He determined 
 however to accomplish his object, or perish before the walls of 
 Somnat. 
 
 For some days he made no attempt against the town, but 
 remained quiet, in order to restore the confidence of his troops, 
 which had been greatly shaken by the unsuccessful issue of the 
 late assault. 
 
 '^4ieir success against the beseigers had greatly elated the citi*
 
 THE IDOL OP bOMNAT. 51 
 
 zens, and they began to despise the foe which they had so mucli 
 dreaded. In order to show his contempt for the Mahomedans, 
 a devotee let himself down by a rope from the rampart, and ad- 
 vancing towards the enemy's camp, stood before the king's tent, 
 braving Mahmood with his late failure, and prophesying that every 
 Mahomedan would be blasted by the breath of Somnat's idol 
 before the rising of another sun. He was at first looked upon as 
 a madman, but some of Mahmood's soldiers being at length 
 •ncensed at his audacity, seized him, and brought him before their 
 sovereign. Upon being asked why he had quitted the town, he 
 replied he came to warn them that they would be all swept from 
 the face of the earth by the vengeance of a god who would not 
 spare them for their attempt to profane his holy shrine. 
 
 " I come to defy you, — to show how impotent you are to im- 
 pose injury upon anyone claiming especial protection of the divinity 
 worshipped by all pious Hindoos. You are all under the ban of 
 our idol. You are doomed to destruction. I go to prepare the 
 scourge that shall sweep you from the face of this globe." 
 
 " You will never return," said Mahmood, '* to accomplish youi 
 contemplated plan of retribution ; but I will show yonder fanatics 
 how little reliance is to be placed upon the god of an idolater. 
 What say you to hanging in the sight of your city's battlements ?" 
 
 '* You dare not provoke the vengeance of an enemy which has 
 already convinced you of its might. I despise your threats — I 
 fear not hanging — death has no terrors for me — violence towards 
 one whose penances have purified his spirit for a higher gradation 
 of existence in another life, will only bring the curse of retribution 
 upon you, while to me it secures blessings which you will never 
 have an opportunity of enjoying." 
 
 " Soldiers," said Mahmood to some of his military attendants, 
 "hang that madman upon the n-earest tree." 
 
 The Hindoo smiled as he heard the order given. 
 
 " My death will be avenged," said he, " though you send me to 
 Paradise. You may deprive me of life, but you cannot withhold 
 from me the power of defying and scorning the race of Islam." 
 
 At a signal from their sovereign, several soldiers seized the 
 
 E 2
 
 Sn THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 fanatic, and hung him upon a tree within sight of the ramparts. The 
 man died uttering expressions of triumph at his martyrdom. He 
 was seen from the walls by his countrymen, who imprecated curses 
 upon the heads of his murderers. The body was cut down as 
 soon as life was extinguished, the head severed from the trunk, 
 and flung over the battlements of Somnat. The citizens bore it 
 to their temple in triumph. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHEN the Hindoo widow ascended the pile, the straw by 
 w^hich it was surrounded was immediately ignited, and 
 having been previously wetted in a slight degree, a smoke was 
 raised which enveloped the whole fabric, and completely con- 
 cealed the victim from view. She was wrapped in a holy trance, 
 and it was some moments therefore before she became sensible 
 that the fire had not reached her. To her surprise she felt herself 
 gradually sinking amid a gloom so cavernous that the first idea 
 which flashed upon her mind was that death had done its work 
 upon her body, and that she was descending into those regions of 
 everlasting darkness where the wicked expiate their crimes in this 
 world by unmitigated and eternal penalties. She, however, per- 
 ceived that the dead body of her husband was still beside her, and 
 this restored her to consciousness. In a few moments the descent 
 of the platform was arrested ; she was suddenly seized and lifted 
 from it ; the frame instantly rising with the corpse, which was con- 
 sumed without the horrible sacrifice of a living body. 
 
 The widow was confounded at her situation. The effects of 
 that stimulating potion which she had taken to sustain her through 
 the awful rite about to be consummated, had subsided, and she 
 trembled at the apprehended terrors in store for her. She was 
 encompassed by a gloom so profound that she could not dis- 
 tinguish a single object. She heard not a sound, save a breathing 
 almost close to her ear, which satisfied her of the juxtaposition oi
 
 THE IDOL OB SOMNAT. 53 
 
 some living being. She did not stir, but endeavoured to collect 
 her scattered thoughts. Her natural energy of character overcame 
 the more violent impulse of alarm, and in a calm, collected tone, 
 she said, " Why am I thus torn from the embrace of my dead 
 husband, with whom I was about to proceed to the bowers of 
 Paradise ?" 
 
 No answer was returned to her inquiry. She heard only the 
 shouts of the multitude above, who were exulting at her imagined 
 immolation, with the frantic transports of demons loosed from 
 their eternal prisons, to wander awhile in the freedom of crime 
 beyond the confines of their own dreary habitations. 
 
 After some time, hearing no sound near her, not even of a res- 
 piration, save her own, she began to grope around. The intensity 
 of the darkness had somewhat subsided, and her eye had become 
 sufficiently familiar with it to be enabled to obtain a dim percep- 
 tion of objects. She proceeded cautiously fon\^ard until her 
 progress was arrested by a wall. Following the course of the 
 masonry she perceived that she was in a small circular chamber, 
 from which there was a passage through a low, narrow portal. The 
 floor of the apartment consisted of earth, covered with dried cow- 
 dung, which was perceptible to her as she trod the chamber with 
 naked feet, having cast off her sandals before she ascended the 
 funeral pile. She had already strung her mind to the necessary 
 chmax of determination which had enabled her to brave death in 
 its most horrid form, and was consequently not terrified at the 
 idea of dying under circumstances less appaUing. 
 
 She was on the floor, her mind filled with images of death, when 
 suddenly a light was seen approaching through the dark passage 
 opposite to which she happened to be lying, and a bright figure, 
 enveloped in light, appeared to enter the portal. Every part of 
 the figure was illumined ; and yet the light did not appear to 
 radiate from it, for all around was darkness. It was about the size 
 of a man, and exactly resembled the huge idol of Somnat. The 
 widow started to her feet as the singular object approached. It 
 advanced to the centre of the apartment, and remained stationary. 
 
 The phosphorescent figure, instead of illuminating tlie apart-
 
 54 THE IDOI OF SOMNAT. 
 
 ment, seemed to attract to itself every particle of light, rendering 
 the gloom around it so intense that nothing else was visible. It 
 glared upon the astonished widow from eyes fixed in their sockets, 
 like diamonds riveted into the living rock, with a lustre so un- 
 earthly that she was obliged to seek relief in the darkness from a 
 sight of the hideous phantom. She drooped her head and re- 
 mained in a state of agonizing suspense as to the issue of this ter- 
 rifying visitation. She began to question her vitality. And yet 
 the strong perception of her senses — the tangible evidence of life 
 in her own movements — the hearing of her own breath — the 
 feeling of her heart's pulsation — all convinced her that she was 
 alive. Could this be a visit from the idol as promised by the 
 Brahmin? She would judge by the issue. And yet could the 
 deity have rescued her from the performance of an oblation uni- 
 versally held by all devout Hindoos to be so welcome to him ? 
 Can he abrogate his own laws. The thing appeared impossible. 
 By whom then had she been rescued from death ? 
 
 In spite of the natural tendency of her mind to superstition, a 
 secret misgiving occasionally invaded it that she was about to 
 become the dupe of some spiritual juggle. The overtures of the 
 Brahmin recurred to her mind, and the anxiety he had expressed 
 to save her from performing the suttee. She began to dread that 
 she was in his power ; and yet the strange supernatural shape at 
 this moment before her seemed strong evidence that she was in 
 the presence of something unearthly. 
 
 Several female figures, all of the same lustrous description, as if 
 radiant with their own inherent glories, next appeared to enter the 
 vault, and surround the representative of Somnats Idol. They 
 prostrated themselves before it, and then such an exhibition of 
 indecency was represented as caused the widow to turn with a 
 feeling of sickening disgust towards the wall in order to exclude 
 from her sight the revolting objects. The blood mantled to her 
 very temples : it was now manifest to her reason that she could 
 not be in the presence of her god, but that she had been made a 
 dupe of the basest artifices. She had no difficulty in suspecting 
 the author of her present imprisonment.
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 55 
 
 Whilst these thoughts were passing rapidly througn her mind, 
 her ear caught a voice which, though feigned to imitate something 
 superhuman, she instantly recognised as that of the Brahmin, 
 towards whom she entertained sentmients of unqualified disgust. 
 
 "The deity of Somnat visits thee with his especial predilection. 
 Thou most favoured of thy sex, hail the coming of the god with 
 joy, and receive him to thy embrace." A hand was laid upon her 
 arm ; she shrank from the touch as if it had been the contact of a 
 torpedo. 
 
 " Man of infamy," she said calmly, " I am not to be deceived 
 either by your wiles or by your sorceries. Scenes to which you 
 tvould invite me but ill become the purity of heaven, where they 
 alone abide who are free from carnal defilements. When the 
 ministers of religion convert her sacred temple into a place of 
 revelry and unchaste joys, the words of spiritual blessing can no 
 longer proceed from such polluted lips. A light seems to have 
 broken upon my soul, and to have imparted to it a new sense of 
 perception. I know not how, or why the revelation has come 
 upon me, but I feel that I have been a dupe — that your religion is a 
 scandal — that by you the deity is vilified, his altars defiled, and 
 his temple desecrated — that I am betrayed, and that you are a 
 villain." 
 
 No answer was returned. She heard footsteps slowly retreating, 
 and fancied she could distinguish the dim outline of a figure 
 through the gloom. The silence and mysterious conduct of her 
 persecutor surprised her. She feared to quit the cell, knowing not 
 whither the passage might lead, and detennined to perish in her 
 present solitary prison rather than consent to anything which her 
 heart did not sanction. 
 
 Beginning to feel drowsy from the effects of the draught which 
 she had taken before ascending the pile, and fearful lest, if she 
 allowed herself to be overcome by sleep, some base advantage 
 might be taken of her, she paced the vault rapidly in order to 
 dissipate the effects of the narcotic, the influence of Avhich had not 
 entirely subsided. In a short time some one again entered the 
 apartment, and the same voice informed her that a curry had been
 
 S5 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 prepared, and a jar of Gangetic water provided for her j neither 
 of which she felt any incHnation to touch. It occurred to her 
 that the food might contain some treacherous drug; she therefore 
 determined not to taste it. 
 
 Her heart now reverted to her infant with all a mother's longing. 
 When she thought of its being in the hands of comparative 
 strangers, who could not feel towards it a parent's tenderness, her 
 anxiety became vehement. It was her only tie upon earth, and 
 the big tear filled her eye as she reflected that she had probably 
 beheld it for the last time. Having at length walked off the effects 
 of the potion, the excitement of her mind dispelled all desire to 
 sleep, and she seated herself upon the floor of her gloomy apart- 
 ment, determined to wait with patience the issue of her odious 
 captivity. 
 
 She was not long allowed to enjoy the solitary quiet of her own 
 thoughts. This was soon interrupted by a strange sound like the 
 roaring of flames within a narrow flue, and shortly after the vault 
 was filled with a pale dusky light which gave a horrible aspect to 
 everything around. It illumined the chamber, which she now 
 perceived was a small circular cavern, with a domed roof, in the 
 centre of which was a square aperture that passed upward beyond 
 the reach of the eye, emitting no light, and through this it was 
 clear that she had been lowered immediately after she ascended 
 the pyre. 
 
 The sudden glare which had succeeded to the intense darkness^ 
 produced such an oppression upon the sight that she was obliged 
 \o close her eyes for several moments. When she opened them, a 
 scene was presented to her view, which, though it excited her 
 terrors, could not subdue her constancy. The chamber appeared 
 filled with shapes of the most horrible description; these approached 
 her, and standing by her side, seemed to deride her with demo- 
 niacal ferocity. She heard no sound, but the objects presented to 
 her view were appalling. She saw women in every conceivable 
 state of mutilation, writhing under the infliction of demons, who 
 grinned with ferocious delight at the agonized contortions of their 
 victims. Creatures of monstrous form and lineament with hideous
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 57 
 
 countenances rushed towards her, threatening torments too horri- 
 ble to describe. 
 
 One figure, representing a sort of hippogriff, armed with a 
 weapon of torture, from which branched a great number of barbs, 
 was seen standing over a prostrate female, into whose bare bosom 
 he continually thrust the instrument, while she appeared to be 
 convulsed with agony beneath the frightful infliction. Upon the 
 head of this monster was a square tablet of Palmyra leaf, on which 
 was traced in fiery characters, " Such is the doom of those who 
 despise the favours of Somnat's god." 
 
 The sight of this object recalled the widow's terrors. The con- 
 viction instantly came that she beheld a mere juggle, and her 
 alarm at once subsided. What she saw might be the effect of 
 sorcery, but it was clear to her that the farce was got up in order 
 to terrify her into a participation of guilt, at which her pure soul 
 revolted. The voice of the odious Brahmin recurred to her 
 recollection, and the illusion at once vanished. 
 
 She determined to perish rather than become the willing dupe 
 of a being, the thought of whom inspired her with ineffable abhor- 
 rence. Gazing calmly at the mummery, which after a while sub- 
 sided, she was again left in darkness and to the welcome solitude 
 of her own reflections. It was indeed a relief, for the continual 
 excitement to which she had been exposed rendered quiet a luxury, 
 even amid the impenetrable gloom of a dungeon. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ALTHOUGH Mahmood had been so severely foiled in his 
 attempts upon the city of Somnat, still he resolved not to 
 abandon the enterprise. Their success in repelling the besiegers 
 had elevated the courage of the Hindoos to the highest pitch of 
 enthusiasm. They persuaded themselves that the power of their 
 idol had been exerted in favour of his worshippers, and that their 
 caemies would perish to a man. Several fanatics singly quitted
 
 ;8 THE IDOL OP SOMNA T. 
 
 the fort, to cast defiance in the enemy's teeth, and crave death, 
 which the Mahomedan sovereign inflicted upon them, with un- 
 daunted resolution worthy of a better cause. They appeared to 
 glory in their martyrdom, as scarcely an hour had passed, since the 
 first repulse of the besiegers, in which these executions had not 
 taken place in sight of the ramparts. 
 
 The Hindoos, confiding in their numbers, and in the protection 
 of their idol, determined upon a sally, which, with the blind fury 
 of zealots, they made about noon, under the glare of an intensely 
 ardent sun, reflected with augmented ardour from the high battle- 
 ments of their city upon the adjacent plain, on which the Moslems 
 were encamped. On a sudden the gates ^-ere opened, and out 
 poured a multitude of ill-armed and undisciplined troops bent upon 
 slaughter. They rushed forward, shouting like maniacs, but were 
 embarrassed by their numbers. They did not- appear to have 
 calculated upon the regular and steady discipline of their enemies, 
 who had been inured to warfare, and accustomed to conquer, 
 under the conduct of their warlike monarch, but expected to 
 overwhelm them by the mere force of numbers, backed by the 
 potent aid of their stone god. 
 
 Mahmood drew up his troops behind the tents, which broke the 
 furious onset of his foes, and enabled him to attack them in 
 separate bodies. The first rush of the Hindoos was checked by 
 the steady valour of the besiegers, who scattered destruction 
 among their ranks, and in a short time the plain was strewed with 
 the dying and the dead. The Hindoos did not continue the 
 struggle; they were quickly repulsed. A rout followed, which 
 ended in a tumultuous flight. They were pursued to their very 
 walls by the Moslems, but the gates were closed, both against 
 the pursued and their pursuers. 
 
 The idolaters from the ramparts beheld the rout of their troops 
 with dismay. They pressed again into the temple, prostrated them- 
 selves before their idol, made piaculaiy offerings, and supplicated 
 his aid to chastise the murderers of his true worshippers. The 
 deity was deaf to their entreaties. Shouts of the victors and cries 
 of the vanquished were wafted by the gentle breeze to the sane
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 59 
 
 tuary, but its stony idol was unmoved. They repaired again to 
 the ramparts, CKpecting that the Ghiznivites, flushed with success, 
 would storm the city. The frantic Hindoos, however, were deter- 
 mined to defend their wails to the death. They saw the enemy 
 •uishing forward ; they heard their shouts of triumph ; the scaling 
 iadders were already applied, when une.Kpected succour was seen 
 advancing along the distant plain. It was an army of their coun- 
 trymen, marching to the relief of Somnat. Arriving before the 
 Ghiznian camp, they presented themselves in order of battle. 
 Mahmood, determined to frustrate this attempt to reinforce the 
 garrison, recalled his troops from the pursuit, and, having left a 
 portion of his army to keep the garrison in check, advanced with 
 the remainder towards the Hindoo forces. These were fresh, 
 having performed but a short and leisurely march, while the 
 Mahomedans were fatigued with their late exertions, and flushed 
 with the excitement of victory, which rendered them too confiding 
 and careless. They, moreover, entertained a contemptible idea of 
 their enemies, and thus gave them an advantage, of which the 
 latter did not fail to avail themselves. 
 
 The Hindoo army was composed of troops very different from 
 those fanatics who had hitherto defended the walls of Somnat, 
 being chiefly formed of regularly-trained soldiers, who had fre- 
 quently been opposed to the Moslem arms, Mahmood, heading 
 his victorious Ghiznivites, pressed forward to the attack with an 
 impetuosity that caused the enemy to recoil, but quickly rallying, 
 they maintained their ground with a resolution that astonished the 
 Mahomedans, and rendered the victory doubtful. The battle 
 raged with great fury, yet neither party gave way. For a long time 
 the balance of advantage did not appear to vibrate in favour of 
 either. The idolaters, looking upon the struggle from the battle- 
 ments of their city, cheered their countrymen with loud acclama- 
 tions, at the same time invoking their idol to cast the foes of their 
 country and of their religion into the sea. Women were seen upon 
 the walls, holding up their infants to infuse new energy into those 
 troops which had marched to raise the siege of their beloved city. 
 
 Among the Hindoo forces were some Rajpoots, who fought
 
 6o THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 with a desperation which nothing could resist ; and if the whole 
 army had been composed of these, it would more than probably 
 have turned the scale of victory against the Moslems. They were, 
 however, cut off to a man. The Hindoos at length began to waver, 
 but fresh troops coming to their assistance, the struggle was still 
 maintained on both sides with desperate determination. The 
 shouts from the battlements seemed to inspire the Indian army 
 with unwonted resolution, while it depressed the energies of their 
 enemies. At length, however, by a vigorous onset, the Maho- 
 medans caused the foe to vibrate. Mahmood, seeing his advantage, 
 ordered his troops to advance and complete the rout, when his 
 ardour was checked by the arrival of new enemies. Two Indian 
 princes joined their countrymen, with considerable reinforcements, 
 and the battle raged with renewed fury. 
 
 The Mahomedans began now to waver in their turn. The 
 Hindoos being inspired with fresh courage advanced to the charge 
 with an impetuosity which caused the Ghiznivites to recoil ; 
 Mahmood, at this momejit perceiving his troops about to retreat, 
 leaped from his horse, and prostrating himself raised his eyes to 
 heaven, and in an attitude of the humblest supplication implored 
 the divine aid. Then mounting his horse, he took his principal 
 general by the hand, by way of encouraging him and the troops 
 under his command, and advanced on the enemy. The solemnity 
 of his manner and of the act which he had just performed filled 
 the soldiers with holy fervour. They expected that the prayer oi 
 their sovereign, so piously offered, would be heard, and gazed upon 
 him with the enthusiasm of men determined to conquer or perish. 
 Ashe advanced he cheered them with such energy that, ashamed 
 to abandon their king, with whom they had so often fought and 
 bled, and who had always led them on to conquest, they with one 
 accord gave a loud shout and rushed forward. In this charge, 
 made with an impetuosity which nothing could resist, the Moslems 
 broke through the enemy's line, and fighting with that confidence 
 which this advantage inspired, soon left five thousand of their foes 
 dead upon the field. The rout became general, and the van- 
 quished Hindoos fled on all sides.
 
 The idol of somnat. ei 
 
 The garrison of Somnat beholding the defeat of their companions 
 gave themselves up to despair, abandoned the defence of the city, 
 and issuing from the gate to the number of several thousand em- 
 barked in boats, intending to proceed to the island of Serindip, 
 the modern Ceylon. This attempt, however, was frustrated by the 
 vigilance of the king, who having secured several boats left in a 
 neighbouring creek, manned them with rowers, together with a 
 detachment of his best troops, and pursued the fugitives, on which 
 occasion he took some and sank others of their flotilla, so that 
 very few escaped. 
 
 Having now placed guards round the walls, and at the gates, 
 Mahmood entered Somnat, accompanied by his sons, a few of his 
 nobles and principal attendants. He found the city entirely de- 
 serted by the troops, but there remained within the walls an almost 
 infinite number of pilgrims and devotees, who were in the daily 
 habit of offering their devotions before the celebrated idol. Many 
 of the inhabitants were persons of great wealth, upon whom the 
 Mahomedan king did not hesitate to levy such contributions as the 
 conquerors of earher times never failed to impose upon the rich 
 who happened to be among the vanquished. 
 
 Mahmood had not forgotten the beautiful Hindoo widow whose 
 infant he had rescued from the wolf ; and one of his first objects 
 upon entering the city was to ascertain the place of her abode. 
 He soon learned that she had followed her husband to that 
 unknown land which can only be reached through the dark valley 
 of the shadow of death. He was deeply affected. Her beauty 
 had excited his admiration. The scene in which he had become 
 with her so principal an actor had left a deep impression on his 
 mind, and a tear rose to his eye as he heard the sad tidings of her 
 death. He demanded to see the child. It was brought before 
 him. He took it in his arms, in spite of the horror with which its 
 rigid guardians looked upon the profane act. The infant smiled 
 in his face, as if it recognised the obligation which it was under to 
 him. It put its little hand upon his cheek. He was moved. I'he 
 stem but generous warriw felt his heart swell. Giving it to an 
 attendant —
 
 62 THE IDOL OF SOMNA T. 
 
 " This shall be the child of my adoption," he said. " It is 
 indebted to me for its life, and I shall take upon me the direction 
 of its future destiny." 
 
 The relatives were amazed. They expostulated; they imprecated 
 the vengeance of their god upon the unsanctified mortal who 
 should dare turn from his faith the son of a Hindoo. Mahmood 
 smiled at their objurgations, and dismissed them, but retained 
 •■be infant. 
 
 He commanded to be brought before him the Brahmins who 
 had urged the widow to commit herself to the flames, and had been 
 present at the odious sacrifice. All answered the summons except 
 the chief who officiated upon that melancholy occasion. He was 
 nowhere to be found. The conqueror sternly inquired why they 
 had induced the widow to consummate such an act of infernal 
 superstition. 
 
 " Because," said the elder among them, " it was our duty to 
 secure her soul a place in Paradise, rather than suffer it to be 
 doomed to everlasting penalties, by failing to perform that solemn 
 oblation which the god of the Hindoos requires of all pious 
 widows." 
 
 " Thou shalt follow her to Paradise, then," said Mahmood, with 
 a bitter smile, and he ordered the speaker to be instantly cast over 
 the battlements. The rest were allowed to retire, with a cautioL 
 never again to exercise any rite of their religion that should involve 
 a human life. 
 
 The Hindoo child was sent into the king's harem and placed 
 under the charge of a nurse. Meanwhile the sovereign issued 
 orders that the chief Brahmin who had officiated at the late suttee 
 should be sought after, being determined to make a severe example 
 of him, and then proceeded to the temple. 
 
 Having entered the gorgeous edifice, he approached the huge 
 image and struck it with his mace by way of contempt ; then 
 ordered two pieces to be broken off and sent to Ghizny, that one 
 might be thrown at the threshold of the public mosque, and the 
 other at the principal entrance of his own palace. This was 
 accordingly done.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE circumstances related in the last chapter took place 
 during the occurrence of those which happened to the Hindoo 
 widoWj from the period of her husband's death. She still remained 
 in the vault. After the exhibition of infernal agents had taken 
 place, she was left a short time to the more agreeable solitude of 
 her own reflections, but this was finally interrupted by her old 
 tormentor. She heard his slow and stealthy tread ; she could just 
 perceive the dim outline of his figure, as he entered the vault, and 
 it was now rendered the more distinguishable by being covered 
 with a plain wrapper of ashy-white linen. He advanced under the 
 cover of darkness, still flattering himself that he should not be 
 recognised. The widow was at this moment seated on the ground. 
 Groping his way, the aged debauchee put his hand against her 
 face, and having thus ascertained his propinquity, he said in the 
 same counterfeit tone of voice which he had hitherto assumed — 
 
 " Is the condescension of the god of Somnat still slighted by 
 the refractory widow? Know that he has power to annihilate 
 -thee, or — what is far worse — to doom thee, through all the changes 
 of thy metempsychosis, to ineffable sufferings, which nothing can 
 remit or modify : but he has likewise the power to exalt thee to a 
 participation with himself to endless beatitude, in which thy 
 vbedience to his desires will inevitably terminate !" 
 
 " Blasphemer !" she exclaimed, in a tone of calm but intense 
 bitterness, " I know thee ; thou art no god, but one of the vilest 
 ministers of evil. Thou profanest the sanctuary of him thou 
 servest with impure and unholy rites, such as no deity can approve. 
 The spiritual nature of the great Being whom we adore, and whose 
 image stands within the walls of that hallowed pile, which thou hast 
 so basely polluted, cannot defile itself by any corporeal taint. The 
 vices which gods condemn cannot be approved by them, and tv'hat 
 they disapprove their pure and essential natures connot practise." 
 
 " You are uttering blasphemies," replied the Brahmin, now 
 assuming his natural voice, perceiving he was discovered, " The
 
 54 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 gods delight to reward their pious ministers, and the divinity which 
 you have all your life served, and to whom I have ministered 
 during the longest period of mine, has yielded thee to the embraces 
 of one who adores thee." 
 
 " If this be true, why hast thou assumed the character of that 
 divinity, and in the pretended identity of his august person, 
 presumed to address me with thy unholy love ? Why have I been 
 tormented with thy odious juggles or sorceries ? Why am I 
 confined in this cavernous prison? Is it under the sanction of 
 that Being who is the perfection and concentration of all good — 
 the hater and antagonist of all evil ?" 
 
 " But what you call evil is good, and encouraged by the divinity. 
 The enjoyment of holy men is desired by the Deity, because it is 
 not evil. It is essentially good ; it is the reward of faithful 
 services and arduous labours ; it leads to happiness. How then 
 can it be evil ? What you call my sorceries were representations, 
 caused by the idol which you have despised, of what those may 
 expect who presume to provoke his wrath. Know, too, that the 
 god of Soranat has visited you, and in me you now behold him. 
 He has assumed the form of his minister whom he honours, to 
 bestow eternal dignities upon a woman he adores." 
 
 He threw his arms round her. She rose and flung him from her 
 with a force that cast him upon his back. 
 
 "Wretch!" she cried, with the dignity of subdued emotion, 
 " think not to lead me blindfold into guilt, by assuming the 
 character of a Being who is unable to endure the stains of thy 
 pollution. Quit me, I command thee, and leave me here to die ; 
 for know that I would rather perish by the slow process of starvation 
 than submit to the moral defilements with which you would encrust 
 my soul." 
 
 The old man rose with difficulty, muttering curses, and hoblled 
 from the vault. Unappalled by the prospect of the vilest perse- 
 cution, or, with perhaps more probability, of a horrible death, the 
 lovely Hindoo calmly resigned herself to her destiny, resolved to 
 perish, under whatever aspect death might approach her, rather 
 than become the victim of her odious persecutor. Her mind was
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 65 
 
 agitated by a tumult of conflicting thoughts. She had been made 
 sensible of having lived hitherto under the delusions of a false 
 faith. Her conclusions upon the nature and quality of Deity 
 became vague and undefined, and she knew not on what to repose 
 her trust. Still her soul was impressed with the one vast idea of 
 omnipotent agency, and she felt that she was under both its 
 dominion and its power. The purity of her own conscience gave 
 her confidence that she should not be deserted. 
 
 She had not been long balancing the issues of life and death, 
 when two female devotees, in the habit of attending upon the 
 idol, and familiarized with scenes of the grossest vice, entered the 
 vault, one of them bearing a lamp. They were dressed in the 
 meretricious attire peculiar to their vocation, and employed all 
 their arts of persuasion to induce the youthful widow to dismiss 
 her absurd prejudices, as they termed her virtuous resistance, and 
 submit to the will of their god, who, they assured her, was a 
 tender and indulgent divinity. She repelled their arguments witli 
 lofty scorn. Finding that persuasion was lost upon her, one of 
 them said— 
 
 " Well, use your own pleasure ; but since you refuse the offers 
 of your spiritual guardian, you must no longer pollute with your 
 presence the secret sanctuary, where he condescends to visit those 
 whom he honours with his preference. Follow us.'* 
 
 "Whither would you lead me?" 
 
 " You will shortly know." 
 
 " I shall not stir from this spot in such company." 
 
 The women set up a loud laugh, and one of them, approaching,' 
 the widow, said with a gesticulation of vulgar ferocity, " Follow 
 us quietly, or, by the chackra* of Vishnoo, you will be dragged 
 like a refractory beast. Think a moment before you determine 
 to resist." 
 
 The widow replied not, but by a movement of her hand signi- 
 fied her consent to follow. One of the women went before with 
 
 • A sort of missile discus, with which the divinity Vishnoo is alwa}^ rcpro* 
 •ented armed. 
 
 INDIA, F
 
 66 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT, 
 
 the light, and the other behind. They passed through a long 
 narrow passage, vaulted overhead, and evidently undergi-ound. 
 There was no outlet on either side. It was terminated by a 
 straight staircase, so narrow that only one person could ascend at 
 a time. Upon reaching the top, there was a small square landing- 
 place, with two doors at opposite sides. 
 
 " Here you will enter," said the foremost woman, pointing to 
 one of the doors. 
 
 '• Whither does it lead ?" 
 
 " Into the bosom of the idol. There you will meet the god, 
 there you will be advanced to endless honours, there one who 
 adores you awaits your coming." 
 
 " I am not to be deluded by these profane pretensions. Here 
 let our conference end. Open, if I am to enter, and let me know 
 at once the worst that is to befall me." 
 
 A small silver bell was now rung by one of the women, when 
 the door slid sideways through a groove and presented a narrow 
 portal. The widow entered fearlessly and the door instantly 
 closed behind her. She was at the bottom of a short flight of 
 stone steps, at the top of which appeared a brilliant light. She 
 ascended with desperate resolution, determined to ascertain at 
 once the full extent of the mischief to which she was to become a 
 victim. On gaining the top of the stairs, she entered a circular 
 chamber, about six feet in diameter. The floor was covered with 
 a beautiful Persian rug, and the light was so intense as for the 
 moment to be extremely painful. It was reflected from an invisible 
 source by means of reflectors composed of gems. The walls of 
 the apartment were decorated with jewels of immense size and 
 brilliancy, and gems were likewise strewed in heaps upon the floor. 
 The treasure displayed was prodigious. It appeared like a scene 
 of enchantment. The wealth of a universe seemed to be con- 
 centred in that one spot. 
 
 The widow had not long gazed upon the vast wealth before her, 
 when a small door which she had not hitherto perceived, slowly 
 opened and the old Brahmin entered. There was an expression 
 of triumphant malignity in his de(r^^• dull eye. He closed the door
 
 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 67 
 
 carefully behind him. "Now," said he, approaching his victim, 
 "for the consummation at once of my pleasure and of my ven- 
 geance. Hei e resistance will be vain. My ministers are at hand. 
 Those women who conducted you from the vault are within call, 
 therefore be advised. Consent to be the bride of Somnat's idol, 
 in the bosom of which you now stand, and the wealth which you 
 behold is at your disposal ; refuse, and the idol's curse will follow 
 you through the world to the place of everlasting retribution." 
 
 '• You know not a woman's resolution," replied the young widow 
 firmly ; " I will never consent to the degradation you propose. 
 Do your worst." 
 
 " Be it so, then," cried the Brahmin, and seizing a staff, he was 
 about to s-trike a gong that hung from an iron bar which crossed 
 the chamber about six feet from the floor, when a strange noise 
 was heard without, and the image vibrated to its very foundation. 
 The Brahmin trembled, and sank upon his knees. The beautiful 
 Hindoo gazed on him in silence and without emotion. The 
 noise increased, the walls of the chamber oscillated. With the 
 calm confidence of speedy deliverance she looked forward to the 
 result. Her companion was still upon his knees overcome by the 
 stupefaction of terror. 
 
 Voices were now distinctly heard, and one smote on the widow's 
 ear like familiar music. It was Mahmood's. He had entered the 
 temple of Somnat just as the lovely widow had ascended into the 
 hollow bosom of the image. Having seen his orders executed upon 
 the colossal frame, a crowd of Brahmins, perceiving their god in 
 jeopardy, rushed forward and besought the king's attendants to 
 intercede with their sovereign to spare it, offering Mahmood a large 
 sum of money, to be instantly paid down, if he would desist from 
 further mutilation. His officers endeavoured to persuade the king 
 to accept the money, urging that as the destruction of one idol 
 wo-Lild not put an end to idolatry, it could not serve the cause of 
 true religion entirely to destroy the image ; but that the sum 
 offered miglit be distributed among the faithful, which would be a 
 meritorious act. 
 
 The monarch acknowledged there might be much truth in what 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE IDOL OF SOMNAT. 
 
 they said, but, nevertheless, declared that he would not consent to 
 a measure which would place him before posterity as Mahmood 
 the " Idol-seller ;" whereas it was the height of his ambition to be 
 known as Mahmood " The Destroyer of Idols." 
 
 Having finally delivered his determination, he ordered his 
 troops to proceed with the work of destruction. The gigantic 
 image tottered beneath their strokes. It was at length split ; the 
 next blow laid open its hollow body, and to the surprise of the 
 king and his officers its immense wealth was exposed to view ; but 
 (heir astonishment was infinitely increased when upon enlarging 
 the opening, the Hindoo widow appeared standing in the centre 
 of the cavity with the aged Brahmin kneeling beside her. The 
 king instantly recognized her. She rushed towards him and ex- 
 claiming, " My deliverer !" fell into his arms. 
 
 " You have saved me," she cried hysterically, " from pollution 
 and from death. Yonder is my persecutor. In another hour I 
 should have been what I shudder to contemplate." 
 
 The Brahmin was dragged from his den of infamy. He shrank 
 from the gaze of the scornful Mahomedan. His own companions 
 slank out of the temple and left him to his fate. He was instantly 
 hanged from one of the pillars of the sanctuary which he had so 
 frequently profaned. The beautiful widow became INIahmood's 
 favourite queen, which event immediately followed upon her un- 
 expected deliverance from the " Idol of Soranat."
 
 ''li>' *1 
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 421 (A.D. 1030). — A conspiracy was formed in favour of Prince 
 Musaood, the king's brother. Mahomed was surrounded in his tent by the 
 conspirators and his person seized. The refractory nobles immediately joined 
 Musaood and swore allegiance to him. Mahomed was deprived of sight and 
 cast into prison. 
 
 Heg. 422 (1031).— The king raised Altoon Tash, one of his own domestic 
 sweepers, to the viceroyship of Rye in Persia. 
 
 Heg. 423 (1032). — Khwaja Ahmud, the vizier, died. 
 
 Heg. 424 (1033). — This year was remarkable for a great drought and famine 
 in many parts of the world. The famine was succeeded by a pestilence, which, 
 in less than a month, swept away forty thousand persons from Ispahan alone. 
 In Hindostan whole countries were depopulated. 
 
 Heg. 425 (1034). — The Ghiznivite general Boghtudy was defeated by the 
 Suljooks. 
 
 Heg. 427 (1036). — A new palace was finished at Ghizny. In it was a golden 
 throne, studded with jewels, erected in a magnificent hall : over the throne 
 was suspended by a golden chain a crown of gold, weighing seventy mauns 
 or a hundred and thirty-five pounds, and emitting lustre from numerous 
 precious stones. This formed a canopy for the king when he sat in state to give 
 public audience. 
 
 Heg. 431 (1040). — Musaood, being defeated by the Suljooks, and deserted 
 by his generals, his subjects restored his brother Mohamed, whom he had 
 blinded, to the throne. 
 
 Heg. 433 (1042). — Musaood was assassinated in the fort of Kurry. Modood, 
 his son, marched against his uncle, and defeating him, put him and all his sons 
 to death. About this time the Toorkomans of Toghrul Beg made an incursion 
 into the Ghiznivite territories by the way of Boost, against whom Modood sent 
 an army which gave them a signal defeat. 
 
 Heg. 438 (1046). — Toghrul Beg began ta entertain treasonable designs 
 against his sovereign, but upon his treachery being discovered, his adherents 
 deserted him, and he was obliged to fly from the king's dominions. 
 
 Heg. 440 (1048}. — Modood conferred the royal dress, drums and robes upon 
 his two eldest sons, Mahmood and Munsoor. 
 
 Heg. 441 (1049). — Modood died, having reigned upwards of nine years. He 
 was succeeded by his brother Abool Hussun Ally, who married tlic late king's 
 widow ; but was deposed two years after by Sultan Abool Rusheed, according 
 to the most auUcntic accounts, a son of the Emperor Mahmood. He was
 
 70 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 assassinated a year after his accession by Toghrul Hajib, and Furokhzad, a son 
 of Musaood, raised to the throne. 
 
 Heg. 450 (1058). — The king became afflicted with dysentery and died, after 
 a reign of six years. 
 
 Heg. 450(1058). — Furokhzad was succeeded by his brother Ibrahim, who 
 sent an army into India and conquered many provinces in that country which, 
 had not yet been visited by the Mussulman arms. It was during this reign 
 that Eiz-ood-Deen returned from India, where his father had been an 
 exile, married a princess of the house of Gliir.ny, and was restored to the 
 principahty of Ghoor. 
 
 Heg. 472 (1079). — Ibrahim took the towTi of Dera by assault. 
 
 Heg. 492 (1098). — Saltan Ibrahim died, and was succeeded by his son 
 Musaood, who after a reign of sixteen years, without domestic troubles or foreign 
 wars, died in the latter end of the year of the Hegira 508. 
 
 Heg. 508 (11 18). — Arslan, son of the late king, ascended the throne of 
 Ghizny, and imprisoned all his brothers except one, who avoided by flight a 
 similar fate. This latter prince having collected an army, defeated his brother, 
 and ascended the throne. Arslan, after a short reign of three years, suffered a 
 violent death. 
 
 Heg. 511 {1121). — Sultan Beiram became king of Ghizny. 
 
 Heg. 512 (1122). — Beiram having defeated and taken prisoner Mahomed 
 Bhyleem, governor of Lahore, who had rebelled against his government, 
 pardoned him, on his swearing allegiance, and returned to Ghizny. Mahomed 
 Bhyleem again rebelled, was defeated and slain. Beiram having executed 
 Kootb-ood-Deen Mahomed Ghoory Afghan, to whom he had given his daughter 
 in marriage, was attacked and defeated by AUa-ood-Deen, brother of the 
 murdered prince, and obliged to fly from his domi>:ions. 
 
 Heg. 547 (1152). — Sultan Beiram died after a reign of thirty-five years. 
 He was succeeded by his son Khoosrow, who reigned seven years and died at 
 Lahore, and was succeeded by his son Khoosrow Mullik. 
 
 Heg. 576 (1180). — The kingdom of Ghizny was invaded by Shahab-ooJ- 
 Deen Mahomed Ghoory, son of Eiz-ood-Deen. He finally evacuated the 
 kingdom, carrying with him Mullik Shah, the king's son, a child only four years 
 old, as a hostage. 
 
 Heg. 580 (1184). — Mahomed Ghooiy made an attempt upon Lahore, whither 
 the Emperor had removed his court, but being foiled, subjected the countiy to 
 devastation by fire and sword. 
 
 Heg. 582 (1186). — The prince of Ghoor again returned to Lahore with a 
 large army and took the city. The Emperor, seeing no means of escape, threw 
 himself upon the mercy of his enemy. Mahomed Ghoory demanded mstant 
 possession of Lahoi-e. The gates of the city were accordingly thrown open to 
 receive him, and the empire passed from the house of Ghizny to that of Ghoor. 
 Sultan Khoosrow Mullik reigned twenty-eight years.
 
 Cfjje |?J3^nv! Pmljani 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BOY," said Sam to his son Eiz-ood-Deen, " I'm sadly tired ol 
 this banishment. One's own country, after all, is the 
 only paradise upon earth, and to be exiled from it is a sad penalty 
 to a patriotic heart." 
 
 *' But," replied the son, " you entered this land of strangers 
 under poverty and bereavement ; you have here raised yourself to 
 distinction and wealth ; your adopted country has been more 
 favourable to you than your fatherland ; why, therefore, should you 
 seek to quit these hospitable shores for those from which you were 
 once spurned a beggar and an outcast ?" 
 
 " Because the yearnings of nature are too strong to be resisted. 
 Besides, there I am known to belong to the blood of her kings j 
 here I am looked upon as a mere trafficker in merchandise, upon 
 which, indeed, I have grown rich, but in a manner that ill becomes 
 the offspring of royalty." 
 
 " I have been too long accustomed to consider this as my native 
 land to desire to seek another home ; but the desires of the son 
 ought to yield to those of the father : I am, therefore, content to 
 quit it whenever you may deem it fitting." 
 
 The merchant Sam was, in truth, son of the king of Ghoor, a 
 mountainous region, which finally became tributary to Ghizny, 
 and had been obliged to fly from his country on the death of his 
 father, who, while attacking a fort, was killed by an arrow, which 
 entered his eye. The son fled into India, and finally settled at
 
 72 THE ROYAL MERCHANT^ 
 
 Surat, a city ol considerable commercial importance, about twelve 
 coss from the sea. Being of an enterprising turn of mind, he 
 assumed the business of a merchant, and, in the course of a few 
 }ears of successful traffic, became a man of great wealth. 
 
 Although he found few Mahomcdans at Surat, there were a 
 number of old Parsee families, who had fixed their abode in a 
 certain quarter of the city. With these he freely associated, as 
 they were not so backward in holding social intercourse with 
 strangers as the native inhabitants, among whom the exclusive pre- 
 judices of caste were maintained generally with extreme rigour. 
 The Parsees being a mercantile people, the royal merchant found 
 that they very much advanced the success of his ventures, and 
 with them, therefore, he dwelt upon terms of mutual good-fellow- 
 ship. Having, however, reaped the full harvest of his industry, 
 he was anxious to return to that exaltation in his native land which 
 he had forfeited by his flight, especially now that he possessed the 
 means of maintaining a dignity which his ambition rendered him 
 eager to enjoy. His son, though he yielded to the wishes of his 
 father, had other views. When he had left his native mountains, 
 he was too young to retain any endearing impressions of home or 
 of country ; he, therefore, felt no desire to quit a spot which was 
 endeared to him by other ties than those of a long residence. 
 
 Eiz-ood-Deen was in the habit of visiting the family of a Parsee 
 who had an only daughter, a beautiful girl in her thirteenth year. 
 She was the pride of her father, and he watched over her with a 
 vigilance only equalled by his fondness, being anxious to keep her 
 from the view of suitors, as he had betrothed her to the son of a 
 wealthy Parsee merchant in Bombay, to whom she was shortly to 
 be married. It happened that she felt an invincible repugnance to 
 the young man to whom she was betrothed, but had never dared to 
 express this repugnance to her father, knowing the extreme severity 
 of his resentments when his purposes were crossed, and being well 
 assured that even his parental affection would give way before the 
 fierceness of his anger, if she should dare to rebel against liis 
 authority. 
 
 She had frequently observed Eiz ood-Deen, when he called upon 
 her parent, through the Venetians of her window that overlooked
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 73 
 
 the street, but which she had never ventured to raise. She was 
 much struck with the easy elegance of his person, and tne Hvely 
 intelHgence of his countenance, which had a sprightUness and 
 characteristic amenity of expression far more attractive than mere 
 exclusive beauty. He was in his nineteenth year, vigorous and 
 well formed, and altogether an interesting rather than a handsome 
 ptrson. She could not help contrasting him with the object of 
 her father's choice, who was a short fat youth, with an ungainly 
 countenance, and pitted with the small-pox. 
 
 The sight of the Mahomedan rendered her more than ever 
 averse to the Parsee, and she soon became silent and desponding. 
 Her father perceived the change, but could not draw from her the 
 cause of her depression. He never, for a moment, imagined that 
 it could arise from any antipathy to the object of his choice for 
 her, because he was firmly persuaded that she had no choice in 
 the matter, his fiat being the rule of her will. He was uneasy, 
 however, at the change, as his affection for her was surpassed only 
 by his desire to see her the wife of a wealthy husband, which she 
 would have in the son of his friend, the Bombay merchant. 
 
 Eiz-ood-Deen had heard much of the beauty of the Parsee's 
 daughter, but had been in the habit of visiting at his house for the 
 best part of a year without having once seen her. She, however, 
 kad indulged herself, by seeing him enter and quit the house 
 almost daily for several months, and the first favourable impression 
 which his person made upon her in no degree subsided ; so far 
 from it, that she felt for the first time the two extreme passions of 
 love and hate glowing in her bosom at the same moment — love 
 towards the Mahomedan, and hatred towards the Parsee. She 
 frequently pondered upon the misery of her lot, in being doomed 
 to wed a man whom she loathed, and debarred, by the difference 
 of creeds, from marrying one with whom she fancied she could 
 realize her fairest dreams of happiness. She became at length so 
 excited by anxiety, that she determined to brave all hazards, and, 
 in defiance of her father's anger, reveal her passion to the object 
 of her love. It was some time before a safe opportunity occurred. 
 
 One morning her parent was suddenly called from home, and, 
 to her joy, F-iz-ood-T)ccn appeared in the court. She raised the
 
 74 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 Venetians as he approached the door, and exposing her young 
 glowing countenance, upon which the bkish mantled like the 
 opening tint of the vernal rose, told him her father was not within. 
 He stopped a moment to gaze upon her, but overcome with the 
 novelty of the act she had committed, she withdrew her head, and 
 dropped the Venetian frame. The Mahomedan was riveted to the 
 spot. He was so overcome by astonishment at the unexpectft 
 sight of so much beauty, that he had not the presence of mind to 
 utter a word. At length the sudden impulse of surprise subsided, 
 and he recovered his self-possession. As her apartment faced the 
 court which was seen from the street, he knew it would expose 
 the lovely girl to the worst suspicions if he remained under the 
 window j he therefore entered the house, as if ignorant that the 
 Parsee was from home. He here encountered an old woman who, 
 as he soon ascertained, was an attendant upon the young mistress 
 of the mansion. She was a low-caste Hindoo, and, knowing the 
 sordidness of the class to which she belonged, he had no difficulty 
 in bribing her to bring him into the presence of her young mistress. 
 They met on tliat very morning. Vows of perpetual love were 
 interchanged, and the beautiful girl agreed to fly with him to his 
 native country, in order to avoid a union against which her heart 
 revolted. 
 
 Interviews were from this time almost daily contrived between 
 the lovers by the old woman who watched for them, who would 
 have hazarded her soul for gold ; it was this only that kept her 
 faithful, but her fidelity was known by those who purchased it to 
 be held by so slippery a tenure that they were both anxious to be 
 beyond the influence of treachery. 
 
 " My father," said Eiz-ood-Deen one evening, " when are we tc 
 quit this land of the stranger ?" 
 
 "Why, my son, I thought thou didst not seem inclined to quit 
 it; therefore, on thy account, I dismissed it from nay thoughts." 
 
 " Nay, my sire, a parent's wish is law to a dutiful son, and I 
 trust you have never found me so wanting in filial obligation as to 
 oppose, even by a thought, the desire of one to whom I owe nox 
 only my being, but the blessings of a happy life. 
 
 "Well, my son, I have long been prepared to visit the land of
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 7S 
 
 my fathers, and, if you concur, we'll take ship at the full of the 
 present moon, when we shall enjoy the blessing of heaven's light 
 by night as well as by day." 
 
 Everything was immediately prepared for their departure, and 
 Eiz-ood-Deen congratulated himself that the lovely Parsee would 
 be the happy companion of his voyage. That night his thoughts 
 were so full of joy that he could not sleep. He lay pondering 
 upon the bliss which appeared to be in store for him. He was the 
 only child of a parent, no less indulgent than wealthy, and beloved 
 by a beautiful girl, with whom he anticipated that he should pass a 
 life of unmixed enjoyment : but alas ! how seldom are the soberest 
 expectations realized ! Disappointment almost invariably follows 
 the glowing dreams of enthusiasm. 
 
 The next day he repaired to the Parsee's house ; the door was 
 closed upon him. He saw no one but a menial, who told him 
 that his master was desirous he should never more project his 
 shadow over his threshold. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this ?" inquired Eiz-ood-Deen, with 
 a beating heart and quivering lip. 
 
 " Think a moment," replied the man, " and you will be at no 
 loss to guess." 
 
 This was an unexpected shock. He sickened as he thought 
 upon the melancholy consequences that might arise to the object 
 of his fondest affections, and quitted the house with a sad presenti- 
 ment of mischief It was clear they had been betrayed. The old 
 woman no doubt, in the hope of reaping a richer harvest, had re- 
 vealed their visits to the inexorable parent, and the consequences 
 of his anger would no doubt be extreme. 
 
 During the whole of that day he could obtain no tidings of the 
 Parsee's daughter. Many dark hints were thrown out by some of 
 his tribe, whom Eiz-ood-Deen knew, which led him to apprehend 
 some fearful consequence , but he could ascertain nothing positive. 
 He returned to his father's house. The worthy merchant was 
 surprised to see the gloom with which his son's countenance was 
 overcast, and inquired the cause ; but an evasive reply silenced his 
 questions, though it did not hush his suspicions. 
 
 The following morning Eiz-ood-Deen was walking beyond the
 
 76 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 suburbs of Surat, and bent his steps towards the cemeteiy of the 
 Parsees. It was a circular inclosure, protected by a wall about 
 four feet high. Within was a deep vault, covered by an iron 
 grating, upon the top of which the bodies of the dead were placed, 
 and there left to corrupt, the bones finally falling into the recep- 
 tacle below, whence they were removed at certain periods, and 
 cast into the sea. Reaching the wall, he sat on it, in order to rest 
 himself or to give free scope to the sadness of his thoughts in 
 the immediate vicinity of so solemn a spot. Looking towards the 
 grating, he saw a body which had been that morning placed upon 
 it. Urged by an irresistible impulse, he leaped into the inclosure, 
 and approaching the vault, was horror-struck at beholding the 
 disfigured corpse of the Parsee's daughter. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EIZ-OOD-DEEN returned to his father's house stunned with 
 the shock he had received at the Parsee cemetery. It 
 struck his mind with the fiery quickness and impetuosity of the 
 thunderbolt that the fond girl had been murdered — murdered be- 
 cause she loved him — murdered for his sake. This was a dreadful 
 reflexion. There was no interfering with the domestic habits of 
 the Guebres. They were governed by their own laws, with which 
 the native authorities at Surat presumed not to interfere ; he had, 
 therefore, no means of instituting an inquiry into the death of his 
 beloved. He was the most wretched of men. The blast of deso- 
 lation had swept over his heart, and he looked upon himself as a 
 seared and blighted thing, which the sun of joy could no longer 
 warm into blossoming life. He was now as anxious to depart 
 from Surat, as he had once been to remain. 
 
 The only thing that pained him at quitting the scene of his 
 misery was the thought of leaving unrevenged the death of that 
 tender girl whom he had so fondly loved. But how was he to 
 prove that she had been sent out of the world by violence } Be- 
 sides, had he not been guilty of an act of deep moral obliquity in
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. ^7 
 
 carrying on a clandestine intercourse with the daughter of a diffe- 
 rent tribe, corrupting her father's servants, and meditating her 
 final abduction ? He felt upon what tottering ground he trod, 
 and therefore soon abandoned all thoughts of revenge. His 
 father could not account for his agitation ; attributing it, however, 
 to those capricious sallies of youth which are frequently the mere 
 sudden eruptions of passion arising from trifling disappointment, / 
 \° did not take the trouble to inquire very minutely into the 
 cause, but occupied himself about preparing for his voyage. As 
 the transfer of property to any great distance was impracticable, 
 he turned a large portion of his wealth into jewels, which were 
 less difficult to be disposed of, could be easily secreted, and occu- 
 pied little room. These preparations engaged him for some days, 
 during the whole of which period Eiz-ood-Deen was a prey to the 
 severest grief He scarcely uttered a word. His father now 
 imagined that his sorrow arose simply from the circumstance of 
 his being about to quit a spot endeared to him by the strong and 
 linking associations of youth, but felt no doubt that when the first 
 ebullitions after departure should subside, new scenes and new 
 objects would soon absorb his attention, and win him from his 
 partialities to the scenes of his boyhood. 
 
 Having made the necessary preparations, the old man pur- 
 chased a vessel, which he manned with Hindoo sailors, for tlie 
 best of all possible reasons, because no other were to be had. 
 The vessel was a large clumsy boat, carrying about sixty tons, 
 with no deck, save a kind of poop, under which there was one 
 small cabin. She was manned by fifteen native seaman. Every- | 
 thing being put on board, the merchant Sam, with his son Eiz- j 
 ood-Deen, set sail from Surat with a favourable breeze. The old | 
 man's heart bounded as he quitted those shores which had been ' 
 the place of his exile for years, and although he had filled hif 
 coffers with money in this strange land, his predilection for that 
 of his birth had never been once stifled ; it was still glowing. He 
 was anxious to lay his bones among those of his forefathers, and 
 he tried to rouse the spirits of his son to the same level of grati- 
 fication with his own ; but the image of death w-is too vividly
 
 78 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 impressed upon the mind of Eiz-ood-Deen to be so readily 
 effaced. He could not banish it. It seemed as if a fiery hand 
 had seared it upon his brain with an impress so deep and glowing 
 that the finger of death only could obliterate the tracing. His 
 heart sickened when he reverted to the repelling reality. 
 
 " Nay, my son," said the glad father, " you seem as if you 
 grieved at a parent's joy. Why this gloom ? Is there no other 
 country upon the globe's wide surface which can yield us as glad 
 a home as that which we have quitted. Why do you repine? 
 What have you relinquished? Were we not living among com- 
 munities which despised our religion, and held us unfit to be 
 admitted to the privileges of social intercourse ? Were we not 
 rather tolerated than welcomed by those idolators whom our reli- 
 gion has taught us to despise ?" 
 
 " Then why, my father, have you made their country your home 
 for so many years ? They admitted the exile among them, and 
 surely those people are not to be depised who received him whom 
 his own countrymen had abandoned. But you mistake the cause 
 of my sorrow. I grieve not at quitting the land of my father's 
 exile ; on the contrary, I rejoice at it : but there are griefs which 
 weigh heavy on my heart, and never shall I remember the city 
 which we have quitted but with a pang that must lacerate my 
 bosom." 
 
 The merchant was astonished. Absorbed in the pursuits of 
 trade, he had allowed his son to have so much his own way, 
 that he knew little or nothing of his pursuits, and had been 
 altogether ignorant of his acquaintance with the beautiful Parsee ; 
 he was, therefore, not a little surprised when Eiz-ood-Deen related 
 to him his attachment towards the Guebre's daughter and the 
 lamentable issue of it 
 
 "Alas ! my boy," said the old man, "there is little doubt but 
 your suspicions respecting the end of that poor girl are correct. The 
 strictness of the Guebres in maintaining the purity of their women 
 is so severe that even the slightest suspicion subjects them to 
 certain death. The power of inflicting summary punishment upon 
 often ders of this kind is in the hands of the carent, and pardon
 
 THE ROVAL MERCHANT. 79 
 
 leldom passes from the domestic tribunal for those sins to which 
 death is awarded. The poisoned bowl has sent that innocent 
 victim to the land of shadows, where our spirits shall everlastingly 
 wail or rejoice." 
 
 The son concurred in the probability of this having been the 
 fact, as he recollected the swollen and blackened state of the 
 corpse. The conversation becoming painful, he relapsed into his 
 former mood of silent abstraction. 
 
 It happened that among the property which the merchant had 
 put on board the vessel was a large royal tiger, so fierce that it 
 was placed in an iron cage, secured at the stern. The merchant 
 had purchased it some short time before he quitted Surat, intending 
 to present it to the King of Ghizny, who, as he had ascertained, 
 possessed an extensive menagerie, and was particularly fond of 
 collecting wild beasts. The tiger had been caught in a trap, and 
 never, therefore, having been tamed, was excessively ferocious. 
 
 They had been but a few days on their voyage, when the 
 weather began to assume a threatening aspect. The sun was over- 
 cast, and the heat became almost suffocating. Not a breath of air 
 stirred. The water had a gentle swell, and was as smooth as a 
 mirror ; but there was a dull greenish tint on the surface, which 
 looked like a skin in the human body tinged with the morbid hue 
 of disease. Not a ripple agitated the lazy mass, which undulated 
 with a slow sluggish movement as if its natural principle of motion 
 were impeded. The vessel laboured through the glassy but pon- 
 derous waters with a lumbering uneasy roll, that rendered it 
 difficult to maintain an easy position either within or without the 
 cabin. 
 
 The haze thickened and lay upon the sea, which it shrouded 
 with a thin vapoury veil, through which, when the clouds rolled 
 from before his orb, the sun occasionally glared with a fiery and 
 portentous glow. The Hindoo sailors were silent and looked 
 grave, seating themselves by the ribs of the vessel and looking 
 into the sky with a foreboding gloom that did not much tend to 
 cheer the heart of the venerable merchant. They appeared, how- 
 ever, to take no precautions against the approach of a hurricane.
 
 do THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 The boat had been under easy sail the whole day, and she was 
 now left almost to take her own course. The navigators began to 
 chew opium and to lie listlessly upon their rugs, as if anxious to 
 put themselves in a state of enviable oblivion as fast as possible. 
 The man at the helm fastened it in a certain position, and followed 
 the example of his companions. Soon after noon the wind 
 freshened ; the sun more frequently looked from behind his 
 curtain of dusky vapours, scattering through the mist a red 
 ochreous glow upon the sluggish waters. Clouds, deepening in 
 intensity as they gathered, rose rapidly from the horizon, and over- 
 spread the heavens with their rolling masses, which seemed to hang 
 over the sea like a pall. 
 
 The sun at length went down in darkness. Some of the clouds 
 upon the horizon, as he sank behind them, were tinged with a dull 
 fiery tint, resembling the hue of hot iron immediately after the 
 first red heat has subsided. The wind was now blowing a gale, 
 and the wrack flew over the heavens as if the winged messengers 
 of the skies were hurrying to collect the elements for the work of 
 devastation. The vessel was old and leaky ; her seams opened 
 to the assaulting billows, which had now cast off their sluggishness, 
 and hissed and foamed around her with a fierce activity of motion 
 that darkened the countenances of the native seamen, and appalled 
 the two passengers. The merchant looked upon the troubled 
 heavens, and his heart sickened. The fearful presentiment oi 
 death passed over his excited mind with the fierce rush of the 
 whirlwind. He dropped upon his knees : his prayer was in- 
 coherent ; it was broken by the frightful images presented to his 
 mind. The son was less agitated. His late sorrows had softened 
 "ihe terrors of the scene, and the memory of that hapless girl who 
 had died — and perhaps a death of agony — for his sake, who now 
 appeared about to follow her to the last home of the blessed, 
 subdued his alarms. He soon grew calm. In proportion as the 
 peril increased, he braced his mind to meet the coming shock, but 
 the poor old merchant was fearfully excited. He had looked forward 
 still to years of enjoyment in his native land, to which he was 
 attached by a link as strong as human sympathy could forge. He
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. bl 
 
 fontlnited to pray, but his aspirations seemed not to rise beyond 
 his Hps : they were stifled in the terrors which gave them their first 
 impulse, but cmshed them in the soul as they struggled to get free. 
 
 With the darkness the hurricane rose to a climax. The boom- 
 ing waves, gleaming with that pale phosphorescent light whicli 
 seems to make the gloom of a tempestuous night only more 
 hideous, broke over the vessel's bow, heaving into her undecked 
 hull a body of sparkling water that threatened every moment to 
 swamp her. Still she rushed onward thuough the foaming ocean, 
 leaping over the billows with a sort of convulsive energy tha; 
 shook every timber in her frame, and opened her seams to th(j 
 assailing element. The tiger roared, dashing from one side to thj 
 other of his cage, which he threatened every instant to shake in 
 pieces. His bowlings were continued with scarcely any inter- 
 mission, and added another feature of terror to the storm. 
 
 The Hindoo sailors were perfectly passive. The vast quantities of 
 opium they had swallowed stupefied them so completely that they 
 appeared utterly unconscious of the surrounding peril. The 
 vessel was allowed to take her own course, and she was urged 
 towards the shore. The rudder was torn from her stern, and she 
 lay like a huge log upon the convulsed bosom of the ocean. Not 
 a hope of escape remained. She was nearly filled and on her 
 beam ends. She rocked and heaved under the lashings of the 
 storm, like a creature in the throes of death. Her sails were rent, 
 and fluttered in the gale in thin strips, clattering amid the roar of 
 the tempest to the answering groans of the masts, that bent and 
 quivered like the tall thin stalk of the young bamboo. 
 
 Midnight passed, but the storm did not abate. The air was 
 loaded with pitchy masses of rolling vapour, which hung so low 
 that the vessel's masts almost seemed to pierce them as she rose 
 upon the circling crests of the billows ; they spread like a pall 
 over the Heavens. There was no light but what arose from the 
 sea, and the intense darkness rendered the aspect of the tempest 
 still more terrific. During the whole night it continued without 
 intermission. The dawn revealed a wide expanse of waters agi- 
 tated into frightful commotion ; the wind howling tlirough the air 
 
 INDIA. G
 
 8a THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 with a vehemence that seemed at once to shake the earth and con- 
 vulse the sea ; the Heavens overspread with an interminable tract 
 of deep blue vapour which the eye could not penetrate. The vessel 
 now began to reel and stagger under the weight of water which 
 she had frequently shipped from the heavy seas that had dashed 
 over her. She laboured with difficulty through the rolUng surges. 
 
 It was evident that she could not wear out the storm. Every 
 moment she rose less buoyantly. Her rudder gone, she was 
 tossed at the mercy of the billows. The merchant Avrung his 
 hands in agony ; tears streamed down his cheeks, and his eyes 
 were fixed upon the convulsed ocean with an expression of horror. 
 Eiz-ood-Deen, on the contrar}', gazed with a sullen calmness on the 
 terrifying scene. He spoke not ; he put up no prayer to Heaven ;^ 
 no silent aspiration rose from his heart to his lips, but he looked 
 with a stern apathy at the death which he every moment expected. 
 
 A sudden reel of the vessel now brought her up against a wave 
 which dashed with a terrific shock over her bov/, that made her 
 whole frame vibrate. The shock was so great that it forced up 
 the lid of the tiger's cage, and left the terrified animal to its free- 
 dom. Alarmed at the tremendous concussion, it leaped from its 
 prison, and, bounding forward, seated itself upon the roof of the 
 cabin ; but the vessel taking a sudden lurch, and at the same 
 moment another huge billow dashing over its bows, with a loud 
 roar of terror the affrighted beast sprang into the deep. The crisis 
 had now come. Another wave struck the vessel on her quarter, 
 a lengthened crash followed, her seams divided, and, after one 
 heavy roll, she went down with a hiss and a gurgle, as the yawning 
 vortex opened before her, that mingled fearfully with the shrieks 
 of her despairing crew while they were drawn into the abyss which 
 closed over them, the clamorous elements singing their requiem 
 as they sank into one common grave. 
 
 A spar had separated from the vessel as she went down, and 
 floated free upon the waters. The merchant and his son had both 
 leaped into the sea, and after a few desperate struggles each 
 grasped the spar, but the old man's exhaustion prevented him 
 from holding it securely. The water bore him from his hold, and
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 83 
 
 the agonized son saw him straggle in vain to reach it. Quitting 
 the spar, he swam towards his father. The merchant threw out 
 his arms with desperate energy to keep himself above the surface, 
 but every wave covered him. He shrieked, the water filled his 
 mouth ; again he shrieked, again the fierce waters stopped his cry, 
 another and another struggle — there was a stifled moan. At length 
 his arms fell, his senses faded, he became still. 
 
 At this moment the son reached him, but too late. He had 
 begun to sink. There was no object on the surface. The spar 
 rolled again near Eiz-ood-Deen, and he grasped it with the clutch 
 of desperation. He was nearly exhausted, but with an instinc- 
 tive desire of life, which they only can apprehend who have beheld 
 death before them in an array of horror, he lashed himself to the 
 spar with his turban, hoping that, should the storm abate, he might 
 be rescued from his peril by some vessel, or cast on shore ; for 
 though the density of the mist prevented the eye seeing objects 
 beyond a it\v yards, yet he felt satisfied that he could not be far 
 from the coast. Perilous as his situation was, hope did not desert 
 him ; and he who had looked at the approach of death with in- 
 difference while there appeared a reasonable chance of escape, 
 now shunned it with a fierce instinct of preservation, when its 
 triumph seemed almost reduced to a certainty. He had not been 
 long lashed to the spar when, through the uproar of the tempest, 
 he heard a strange noise behind him, and turning his head, to his 
 consternation beheld the tiger makino; its way towards him through 
 the raging waters. It snorted ana panted with its exertions ; 
 still it raised its noble head amid the waves, rising above them with 
 a buoyancy beautiful to behold, in spite of the painful apprehensions 
 with which it was accompanied. In a few moments the tiger reached 
 the spar, and placed its fore paws upon it, close by the side of the 
 merchant's son. It offered him no violence, but, looking wildly in 
 his face, seemed to eye him with an expression of sympathy, as if 
 acknowledging a fellowship of suffering. Emboldened by the for- 
 bearance of the noble animal, Eiz-ood-Deen laid his hand gently 
 upon its head. The tiger depressed its ears, gave a loud kind of 
 purr, and crept closer to the side of its comj)anion. 
 
 a 3
 
 84 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 Though frequently covered by the billows, Eiz-ood-Decn had 
 lashed himself to the spar too securely to be shaken off, and the 
 strong claws of the tiger kept it from a similar contingency. After 
 being tossed about for upwards of three hours, at the imminent 
 peril of his life, the merchant's son and his feline associate were 
 dashed on shore near the mouth of the Indus. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EIZ-OOD-DEEN was so exhausted on being cast upon the 
 strand, that when he had disengaged himself from the spar 
 and crawled up the beach beyond the reach of the surf, he fell into 
 a profound sleep. When he awoke, the tempest had almost entirely 
 subsided ; and to his astonishment he found the tiger at his side with 
 one of its paws upon his breast and looking steadfastly in his face. 
 The recollection that they had been companions in peril, and the 
 favourable manner in which the ferocious creature had received his 
 caress upon the spar amidst the turbulence of the excited ocean, 
 abated his apprehensions of the animal's hostility, which seemed to 
 have forsaken its natural instincts, and he laid his hand fearlessly 
 upon its head. The tiger instantly purred, rolled upon its back, and 
 exhibited marked symptoms of delight, rubbing its broad forehead 
 against Eiz-ood-Deen's face, and spreading out its capacious tongue 
 as if to show him the tenderness of a tiger's caress. This was an ex- 
 ceedingly welcome indication of good fellowship to the merchant's 
 son ; nevertheless he could not help fearing that when hunger 
 should remind the voracious beast of the necessity of appeasing 
 its natural longing, it might take a fancy to him for its first meal. 
 
 He was so bruised by the spar to which he had been attached 
 when cast upon the beach, and moreover his strength was so 
 reduced by his long and arduous struggles, that he could not pro- 
 ceed in search of some friendly habitation ; he therefore bent his 
 way towards the nearest jungle, to which the tiger leisurely fol- 
 lowed, being determined there to pass the night and seek out an 
 asylum the following day. As evening advanced, he crept into a
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 85 
 
 thicket, and heaping some dry jungle-grass under a tree, threw 
 himself upon it. The tiger quitted him ; and he concluded that 
 having found a congenial retreat, it had gone in search of a 
 supper, which he hoped would prevent him from being distin- 
 guished by so flattering a preference as he had apprehended. 
 
 He had now time to reflect upon his bereaved condition. All 
 his father's property had been put on board the vessel, and all had 
 therefore gone to the bottom, save a few jewels which the wary 
 merchant had caused him to secrete about his person for the sake 
 of security, in case the crew should turn pilferers and practically 
 illustrate the doctrine of appropriation. The old man had stowed 
 his most valuable gems within the folds of his own turban, which 
 went to the bottom with him ; so that of all his immense wealth a 
 trifling wreck only was preserved by the son, who was now a 
 comparative beggar in a strange country, with the habits of which 
 he was not familiar, and towards the inhabitants of which 
 he felt no symjDathy. His future prospects were none of the 
 brightest. Although he had escaped death under its most fearful 
 aspect, he possessed nothing in his own estimation to render life 
 desirable. He had been cut off from all that was dear to him in 
 the world, and there remained nothing to enhance the world to 
 him. He thought upon his parent's lamentable end, and wept. 
 The dreadful fate of the Parsee girl rushed like the simoon blast 
 across his heart and wrung it with intense agony. He wondered 
 why he had not courted death amid the howling storm, and could 
 scarcely account for his having used such endeavours to preserve 
 a worthless and miserable existence : but he felt that he was called 
 upon to struggle through the difficulties by which he was beset ; 
 and the pride of resistance at length rousing his spirit, he resolved 
 to rise superior to his destiny, and exert all his energies to lift 
 himself from the depression into which a course of concurrent but 
 hostile circumstances had plunged him. 
 
 He arose as soon as the broad light had made its way through 
 the thick growth of the forest, when to his surprise he found the 
 tiger again at his side. Its jowls were streaked with blood ; and, 
 from the roundness which its flanks exhibited, it was evident to
 
 86 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 him that it bad not gone without its evening meal. It fawned 
 before him with a fondness that won his interest for the noble 
 beast, which wagged its tail, advanced into the thicket, then 
 stopped and looked back, as if inviting him to follow. There way 
 an earnestness in the animal's motions which determined the 
 merchant's son to see whither it would lead him. Perceiving him 
 prepared to follow, the tiger bounded forward with a suppressed 
 roar. After passing through a portion of the forest where the 
 growth was unusually thick, his dumb guide suddenly stopped, and 
 Eiz-ood-Deen advancing perceived the tiger standing over the 
 mangled body of a buffalo recently slain. A portion of it had been 
 eaten — the whole of the intestines : but the most fleshy parts 
 remained entire. Eiz-ood-Deen drew a sharp double-bladed dagger, 
 which he always carried in his cummerbund ; and cutting off a slice 
 from one of the haunches, returned to the spot where he had 
 passed the night. Having kindled a fire, he broiled the meat ; and 
 climbing a cocoa-nut tree that grew near the beach at the edge of 
 the jungle, he gathered several nuts, which afforded him a refreshing 
 beverage, and was thus considerably refreshed by his morning's 
 repast. The tiger lay at his feet and slept. Instead of feeling any 
 terror in the presence of this powerful and ferocious creature, he 
 was animated by a confidence that tended much to quiet the 
 morbid anxieties of his mind. He felt a security against aggression, 
 which gave a stimulus to his determination to grapple manfully with 
 circumstances ; and he began to think that he was still born to be 
 a distinguished man. 
 
 As soon as he felt his body sufficiently recruited to proceed, 
 Eiz-ood-Deen commenced his journey towards Ghizny. He had 
 a long and dreary way before him, but was supported by the 
 consciousness that, having been preserved from the tempest and 
 from the natural ferocity of the tiger, he was destined to sustain a 
 character in the world. There was an excitement imparted to his 
 thoughts by the singular peculiarity of his condition, and the 
 shadows of despondency began to dissipate before the active 
 energies of his mind. A new field of speculation appeared to be 
 suddenly open before him ; and when the loss of those who were
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 87 
 
 clear to him, and of his father's treasure, passed like shadows over 
 his braiPj they were repelled as by a sunbeam by some elevating 
 ■mpulse of thought, and he pursued his way through the forest 
 ft'ith a comparatively unburthened heart. The tiger continued to 
 /ollow him, as if loth to relinquish the companionship of one who 
 had been its associate in peril, and towards whom its natural instincts 
 of ferocity seemed to subside into those milder ones which belong 
 to the gentlest of the dumb creation. It frolicked before his path, 
 and fawned at his feet when he rested, exhibiting the sti-ongest 
 symptoms of delight when he patted its sleek broad back, purring 
 under the pressure of his hand, relaxing its large bright eyes into 
 an expression of gentle satisfaction, protruding its huge tongue, 
 and passing it over its formidable jaws, at once showing its powei 
 and its docility. 
 
 It was a strange thing to see a creature of such prodigious 
 physical energies, and with a disposition to exercise them when- 
 ever opportunity might present itself, throwing off the habits of its 
 nature, and, as if by some supernatural transformation, exhibiting 
 the very opposite qualities to those which are innate with all its 
 race. The circumstance appeared to the merchant's son a happy 
 omen of his own future success, and in the strength of this expec- 
 tation he proceeded on his way. As he was walking leisurely 
 through a beaten path in the forest, he heard something strike a 
 tree just before him, and raising his eyes perceived that an arrow 
 was sticking into the bark. He turned his head, but there was 
 no person visible, and he paused in some uneasiness. Whence 
 the arrow had proceeded, or from whom, were alike a mystery. 
 That he had been the object of the archer's aim he could not for 
 a moment imagine, as the shaft had struck in the trunk of the 
 tree at least three feet above his head, and he knew too well the 
 dexterity of Indian bowanen, whether warriors or robbers, to sup- 
 pose that so false an aim could have been taken by anyone accus- 
 tomed to the use of this weapon. He was perplexed ; he knew 
 not what to think. At length he saw the eyes of the tiger fixed as 
 if upon some object in the thicket. Drooping its ears and gently 
 undulating its (ail, it dropped a moment on its belly, then bounded
 
 88 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 forward, and was in an instant lost in the thick undergrowth which 
 nearly covered the whole face of the jungle. 
 
 After a few moments a cry of agony was heard, which was 
 answered by a stifled roar not to be mistaken. Eiz-ood-Deen 
 rushed forward in the direction of the sound. He heard a low 
 mumbling as he neared the spot, and making his way into a patch 
 of small wood and jungle-grass, he there saw the tiger standing 
 over a man's body, which was dreadfully lacerated. Its paw was 
 on the breast, into which the claws were fixed, the bone being in 
 several places perfectly bare. The skull was crushed nearly flat, 
 and the ferocious animal stood growling over its victim as Eiz- 
 ood-Deen approached. A strung bow was lying by the side of the 
 corpse, from which it was natural to conclude that this was the 
 body of the man who had discharged the arrow into the tree. 
 
 The tiger began voraciously to devour its prey ; and when Eiz- 
 ood-Deen approached, and placed his hand upon it, the creature 
 gave a quick short growl, raised its paw suddenly, and struck him 
 down. He was stunned a moment with the force of the slwck, 
 but, rising instantly, he retreated a few yards, and found to his 
 extreme gratification, that the tiger's claws had not been protruded 
 when it struck, as there was no wound. 
 
 The merchant's son made no further attempt to interrupt the 
 creature's meal, which it was proceeding to despatch with charac- 
 teristic voracity, when, on a sudden, several arrows were fixed in 
 its body. Raising its head, it tore the shafts from its flanks ; then 
 with glaring eyes and erected fur, darted forward in the direction 
 whence the arrows had been discharged. Its career was almost 
 immediately arrested. It staggered and fell dead. As it advanced, 
 there had been a second discharge of arrows, three of which 
 entered its brain. 
 
 Eiz-ood-Deen saw with regret the noble creature lying prostrate 
 in death, remembering the peril they had shared in the late tern- 
 pest, and the tiger's consequent gentleness towards himself. 
 While he was gazing at the body of the prostrate beast, several 
 men advanced from the thicket and surrounded him. "Who are
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 83 
 
 you," said one of them, " that the brii.dled savages of the forest 
 seem thus to respect ?" 
 
 "A poor traveller on his way to Ghizny, which he hopes, 
 tlirough your kind succour and direction, to reach." 
 
 " But how comes it that yonder grim brute, which so uncere- 
 moniously banqueted upon our companion, who lies yonder with 
 his eyes to the broad heavens, whither his spirit will never enter, 
 did not make a meal of thee ? He seems to prefer flesh that 
 has been forest-fed to the tough and dry product of the town." 
 
 *' My history with reference to that beast is a strange one. We 
 were hurled into the sea from the same ship, and clung to the same 
 spar for preservation. The creature was near me in peril, and 
 when we were cast on shore together, fawned before me instead of 
 exercising upon me the savage propensities of its nature. Animal 
 instincts are as inexplicable as they are wonderful," 
 
 " A likely story, in truth ! but whether true or false, our com- 
 panion has been killed and you must supply his place. A tall 
 sinewy fellow of your growth and bulk is sure to make an apt as 
 well as a comely robber." 
 
 "I am afraid you will find me but an awkward practitioner in a 
 profession which I so little understand." 
 
 " Ay, I suppose you are what those fools who affect to be good 
 and wise among us, call an honest man— whose whole life is only 
 one broad varnished lie. Honesty is a mere term for a purpose. 
 Where are there greater rogues than they who would be teachers 
 of their fellows, and under the veil of religion commit the vilest 
 abominations, and dub them with the name of honesty ? We'll 
 soon teach you a different lesson. We pretend not to be honest, 
 for thieving is our craft, and we glory in making the pampered 
 pay for our civility when they happen to cross our path. You'll 
 quickly learn to get rid of your qualms, for with us hunger is a 
 frequent visitor, and you've no notion how eloquently it persuades 
 men to become rogues. But you must go with us, whatever may 
 be your antipathies." 
 
 There was clearly no use in contending; with a set of despera-
 
 90 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 does, who had evidently made up their minds to have their own 
 way ; the merchant's son, therefore, followed them, without 
 attempting the slightest expostulation. 
 
 The robbers conducted him into a deep recess of the jungle, 
 where there was the ruin of what appeared to be an ancient temple. 
 It was low, not more than a few feet above the common level of 
 the forest, and was entered by a narrow portal which led inta- 
 several small dark chambers, inhabited by the bandits, of whou" 
 there were upwards of thirty. 
 
 Eiz-ood-Deen was refractory, and did not choose to enrol him- 
 self among this marauding company. They treated him with con- 
 siderable harshness ; he nevertheless continued firm in his resolu- 
 tion to remain their captive, rather than unite with them in their 
 practices of plunder. 
 
 It happened that the robbers had received intelligence of a party 
 of troops being on their way, with supplies, towards the camp of 
 Sultan Ibrahim, sovereign of Ghizny, who had invaded India with 
 a numerous army. As their route lay through a part of the jungle, 
 the robbers determined to attack the detachment in a narrow pass., 
 where they would be unable to act effectively, and plunder the 
 waggons. This was accordingly attempted, and with some suc- 
 cess. They partially robbed one of the waggons, and bore off 
 an officer who defended it. In the evening they brought their 
 prisoner to their forest dwelling. Dissatisfied with the issue oi 
 their expedition, they determined to attack the waggons again on 
 the following day ; and in order to effect this with greater security, 
 they put to their captive certain questions, which he refused to 
 answer. Every temptation was offered to induce him to make 
 disclosures, but he declined giving the slightest communication ; 
 this so incensed the robbers that they shot him to death with 
 arrows. They were not, however, suffered long to triumph in their 
 cruelty. On that night their haunt was assailed by the troops 
 which they had so recently attacked, and the greatest part of the 
 band weic made prisoners. 
 
 r-
 
 9« 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EIZ-OOD-DEEN was made prisoner with the rest or the 
 - robbers, who were severally put in irons, and finally marched 
 to Ghizny, where they were cast into separate dmigeons. The 
 merchant's son now looked upon his doom as sealed. Taken up 
 as a robber and murderer, he saw little chance of escape, and 
 began to look forward with dreadful apprehensions to undergoing 
 an ignominous death. How was he to prove his innocence when 
 he had been taken in the very den of those criminals who had 
 conniiitted the murder, and was declared by them to be one of 
 their party ? He could bring forward no proof of his innocence 
 to countervail such strong presumptive evidence of his guilt. His 
 mere declaration would scarcely be listened to, it being well known 
 that the guilty almost invariably declare themselves innocent. He 
 paced his prison with a restless and impatient step. It seemed as 
 if the doom of destiny were upon him. Since the death of that 
 guiltless girl, whom he had hoped to make his wife, he had known 
 nothing but misfortune. The conviction smote upon his heart that 
 he had been saved from destruction, when the hurricane stirred 
 the elements into frightful combination, and threatened every 
 moment to engulf him amid the raging billows, only to meet a more 
 dreadful doom upon land. He now regi'etted that he had not 
 perished amid the turbulent waters which bore his father to the 
 abode of spirits, or that the tiger had not struck him dead when it 
 raised its paw against him in the jungle. What was to be done ? 
 There was no evading the doom which awaited him. He must 
 die a degraded criminal, his body would be thrown to the vultures 
 and to the jackals. It was a fearful thought ! To have his 
 bones whiten in the sun, and his flesh furnish a banquet for beasts 
 of prey ! 
 
 I'he robbers were severally tried, all found guilty, and executed. 
 Their heads were placed upon the walls of Ghizny. His trial 
 came last. The day preceding he endeavoured to prepare himself 
 for the fate from which he concluded there could be no escape ;
 
 92 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 but \it could not brace his spirit to that pitch of resolution which 
 defies the terrors of death, and renders the condemned man 
 capable of going through the awful details of a public execution, 
 not only without dread, but with perfect tranquillity of spirit. 
 Every one of the robbers — for he had been taken from his dun- 
 geon to witness their execution — had met death with that sullen 
 resolution peculiar to fatalists, for such were they; but Eiz-ood- 
 Deen, entertaining a different faith, felt that he was not Hkely to 
 meet it with equal resolution. The night which preceded his trial 
 was one of dreadful mental excitation. He had no rest ; the fever 
 of anxiety was on his brow, and the phantoms of terror flitted round 
 him as he courted a transient oblivion of his woes. 
 
 The morning dawned upon his disturbed slumbers, and the dim 
 light which reached his dungeon through a narrow aperture in the 
 wall roused him from the damp earth upon which he had cast 
 himself for the last time. He arose feverish and unrefreshed. His 
 hands were cold as the stones by which he was surrounded, but 
 his temples were painfully hot, and tlirobbed almost audibly. He 
 tried to summon resolution to appear before the court with com- 
 posure, but nature mastered all his energies, and he gave way at 
 length to a violent burst of emotion. The remarkable manner of 
 his escape from destruction during the storm and its accompanying 
 circumstances had endeared life to him, and he felt unconquerably 
 loth to relinquish it, although at one time he had really persuaded 
 himself that death would be a boon. 
 
 The summons at length came, and he prepared to follow the 
 messenger into the presence of a fallible judge, who, he was per- 
 suaded, would pronounce upon him, though innocent, the dreaded 
 penalty of the law. He entered the court with a tottering step, d 
 drooping eye, and a bloodless cheek. The trial was summary, and 
 the sentence speedily passed. He was adjudged to have his head 
 struck from his body and placed upon the city walls, the trunk to 
 be cast to the vultures. The execution was ordered instantly to 
 take place, and, as little sympathy is shown for criminals in 
 countries where despotism renders public executions occurrences 
 of mere daily routine, Eiz-ood-Deen was bound without the
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 93 
 
 slightest compassion being shown by those who had heard his trial 
 and condemnation. His turban was rudely stripped from his 
 head, and while the heartless official was binding it round his brow 
 to cover his eyes, in order that he might not witness the descending 
 stroke of death, he raised a piteous lamentation, calling upon the 
 Deity to attest that he was innocent, and accompanying his cries 
 with such strong appeals to the humanity of his judge, that even 
 the executioner was at length moved, and paused for a moment 
 in his work of preparation. 
 
 The prisoner was desired to state what he had to urge in his 
 defence, and say how it happened that he had been found asso- 
 ciated with robbers who had committed a murder upon one of 
 the subjects of Sultan Ibrahim. Eiz-ood-Deen commenced his 
 defence by stating the principal events of his life, which he did in 
 a manner so simple and circumstantial, that the magistrate, who 
 had condemned him unheard, at length believing him innocent 
 suspended his execution, and immediately petitioned the sovereign 
 in his favour. 
 
 On being brought before the Sultan, the merchant's son acquitted 
 himself with such modesty and eloquence that he was pardoned, 
 and taken into the sovereign's service. This was, in truth, an un- 
 expected issue to the dilemma in which he had so unwittingly 
 fallen, and his prospects thus suddenly brightening, he felt more 
 than ever impressed with the idea that he had been spared for a 
 better destiny. He rose rapidly in the royal favour, and was 
 finally advanced to one of the highest offices in the state. 
 
 One day as he was following the chase with several of the nobles, 
 a boar charged the horse of a prince of the royal house of Ghizny, 
 and having inflicted a frightful wound in its flank, the wounded 
 beast fell, and the foot of its rider being under its body, he could 
 not extricate himself The enraged boar dashed towards him, 
 and in a few seconds more would have placed him in the same 
 condition as his horse, when Eiz-ood-Deen spurred forward, met 
 the hog in its impetuous career, received it upon his spear, which 
 entered the heart of the furious animal, and it fell dead beside its 
 intended victim. The victor immediately dismounted, and going
 
 94 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 to the prince's rescue, released him from his jeopardy. This little 
 incident naturally produced an intimacy, and Eiz-ood-Deen soon 
 became a welcome visitor at the prince's palace. 
 
 The latter had three daughters, one of whom was reputed to be 
 a girl of great beauty and accomplishments ; nor did she belie the 
 character which report had given her. Her father was justly proud 
 of her. She was already betrothed to one of the wealthiest nobles 
 in the Sultan Ibrahim's dominions. It had been an arrangement 
 of interest, not of affection, and one in wliich the princess had 
 acquiesced rather in obedience to the wishes of her father, whom 
 she tenderly loved, than to the suggestions of her own choice. 
 When she met the preserver of her parent's life immediately after 
 the event just related, the natural impulses of her heart drew from 
 her expressions of gratitude so ardent and earnest, that Eiz-ood- 
 Deen was deeply moved at the eloquent declaration of her feelings. 
 He listened to her with breathless delight. There was no resisting 
 the earnestness which was so much enhanced by the corresponding 
 influence of her beauty. But she was betrothed, and therefore to 
 admire her was dangerous — to love her criminal ; and yet to see 
 her, under such a provocative both to admiration and love, and 
 not give way to those strong tendencies of our nature roused into 
 vigorous action, when that pure passion is awakened by which 
 alone the fruits of our earthly paradise are matured, was all but 
 morally impossible. The merchant's son, now raised to the dignity 
 of a noble, and whose ambition therefore led him to think that he 
 might aspire to the highest alliance, could not behold the beauty 
 of this high-horn maiden with insensibility. He soon felt that his 
 heart had received an impression which had completely effaced 
 the scar left upon it by the sad disappointment of a former love ; 
 yet he dared not avow it. 
 
 The two elder sisters were neither handsome nor agreeable, and 
 had passed that period of rich and vivid freshness which impart? 
 to the beauty of woman its best charm. They were rapidly ad- 
 vancing to the staid season of existence when the buoyancy of 
 youth begins to decline, and you are continually reminded that its 
 beautiful bright star has culminated. It happened tliat they had
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. q"? 
 
 been both struck with the fine person of Eiz-ood-Deen, and 
 manifested their partiaUty in a manner too obvious to be longer 
 equivocal. The object of their mutual affection treated their 
 advances with provoking disregard ; but they, imagining that he 
 was withheld by their rank from declaring his passion, each resolved 
 in secret to take the earhest opportunity of letting him know that 
 he was beloved by a princess of the house of Ghizny. Before, 
 however, they could put their determination into practice, Eiz- 
 ood-Deen had declared his admiration for the younger sister, who 
 had answered his declaration by avowing a reciprocal attachment. 
 This almost immediately came to the ears of the two elder sisters, 
 who were outrageous at the discovery of his entertaining what 
 they deemed so degrading a preference. 
 
 This discovery, however, did not abate the passion of these two 
 tender maidens, and each resolved personally to declare her 
 sentiments to the object of her affections. One evening, Eiz-ood- 
 Deen received a message, through one of the attendants of the 
 palace, from the youngest of the three princesses, as was repre- 
 sented, to meet her in the palace gardens an hour after sunset, as 
 she had some special communication to make. Delighted at the 
 idea of encountering the object towards whom his heart bounded 
 with unceasing emotion, he repaired to the place appointed, ex- 
 pecting to see one whose presence was rapture. He entered the 
 gardens and sprang towards a female already there awaiting his 
 arrival, when to his surprise and mortification he stood before the 
 eldest daughter of the prince whom he had rescued from death. 
 The interview, however, was short. She began by declaring her 
 passion ; but he soon silenced her unwelcome avowal by telling 
 her that his heart was fixed upon her youngest sister. Having 
 made this declaration, he quitted the garden, and the princess 
 sought her apartment, burning with rage and disappointment. 
 
 Both the elder princesses meditated revenge ; and in order to 
 effect this, they took an opportunity of rousing the jealousy of the 
 Omrah to whom their younger sister had been betrothed, by 
 telling him that his affianced bride had bestowed her affections 
 upon Eiz-ood-Deen, at the same time rousing his hostility by the
 
 96 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 
 
 vilest insinuations. The fiercest passions of the noble were roused, 
 and he determined to take speedy and signal revenge. Shortly 
 after this disclosure, while they were enjoying the pleasures of 
 the chase, the jealous lover resolved to avail himself of the oppor- 
 tunity to destroy his rival, at a moment when he was separated 
 from the hunters. Eiz-ood-Deen had paused, to give his steed 
 breath after a severe run. On one side of him was a precipice, 
 and on the other the jungle from which the quarry had been 
 roused. The enraged noble, armed with a strong spear, urged 
 his steed forward ; but the animal springing at the goad of its 
 rider's spur, suddenly turned to the right, and bounded towards 
 the precipice. There was no arresting its career. It reached 
 the brink — snorted, reared, and plunged into the abyss. Both 
 rider and horse were killed upon the spot. 
 
 The two elder daughters of the prince were grievously vexed at 
 this mischance ; and their jealousy of the younger sister was 
 carried at length to such a height that Eiz-ood-Deen determined 
 to delare himself without further delay. The object of his attach- 
 ment had received and approved of his addresses ; nothing there- 
 fore remained but to obtain the father's consent. Thesuitof the mer- 
 chant's son, who had been raised by the Sultan to an appointment 
 of high dignity in his court, was backed by his royal master. 
 Knowing that he was of the blood royal, Ibrahim urged that the 
 princess should be united to him. Eiz-ood-Deen was consequenly 
 married to this beautiful scion of the house of Ghizny, and shortly 
 after put in possession of the principality of Ghoor, over which 
 his ancestors had reigned until the flight of his father into India. 
 By the princess of Ghizny Eiz-ood-Deen had seven sons. These, 
 when the father died, separated into two divisions. They were, 
 by way of distinction, called the seven stars. One of these 
 divisions gave its origin to the dynasty of kings at Bamyan, called 
 also Tokharistan and Mohatila ; and the other to the Ghoory 
 dynasty at Ghizny. Of the latter race was Kootb-ood-Deen 
 Mahomed, called King of the Mountains. He married the 
 daughter of Sultan Beiram, king of Ghizny, and having founded
 
 THE ROYAL MERCHANT. 97 
 
 the city of Feroozkooh, made it his capital. In the vicinity of 
 this place, having enclosed with a wall a spot of ground about two 
 parasangs* in circumference as a hunting park, he assumed all 
 the dignities of a sovereign. At length he was induced to 
 attack Ghizn)\ Sultan Beiram, obtaining intimation of his inten- 
 tions, contrived to get him into his power, and eventually poisoned 
 him. This was the origin of the feuds between the houses of 
 Ghoor and Ghizny.f 
 
 * The parasang varies from three to four miles. 
 <■ See Brigg's Translation of Ferishta, vol. i. p. 167. 
 
 INDIA M
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 582 (a.d. 1186). — The empire of Ghizny having passed from its native 
 sovereign to the house of Ghoor, Gheias-ood-Deen became sovereign of all the 
 Mahomedan conquests in India. His brother, Mahomed Ghoory, whom he 
 had appointed general-in-chief of his armies, having settled the provinces of 
 Lahore, retired to Ghizny. 
 
 Heg. 587 (1191). — Mahomed Ghoory marched into Hindostan and took the 
 town of Bitunda, but v.-as obliged to retreat to Ghizny, having been defeated by 
 the combined armies under the command of Pithow-Ray, Rajah of Ajmeer 
 and Chawund Ray, Rajah of Delhi. In a second battle, however, Mahomed 
 completely routed the combined armies. Proceeding in person to Ajmeer, he 
 took possession of it, put a thousand of the inhabitants, who opposed him, to 
 the sword, and reserved the rest for slaves. Having returned to Ghizny, MuUik 
 Kootb-ood-Deen Eibuk, took the fort of Merut and the city of Delhi from the 
 family of Chawund Ray ; and it is from this circumstance that the empire of 
 Delhi has been said to be founded by a slave. 
 
 Heg. 589 (1193). — The general-in-chief marched to Benares, broke down the 
 idols of above a thousand temples, which he purified and consecrated to the 
 worship of the true God. He then returned to his brother's dominions. 
 
 Heg. 592 (1195). — Mahomed Ghoory returned to Hindostan, took Byana ; 
 and the strong fort of Gwalior fell into the hands of Buha-ood-Deen Toghi-ul, 
 after a long siege. The king of Ghizny dying, Mahomed Ghoory succeeded to 
 the throne without opposition. Having attempted the conquest of Khwaruzm, 
 he was surrounded by the enemy, who advanced to the relief of its sovereign. 
 Almost the whole of his army being destroyed, Mahomed cut his way through 
 the enemy and arrived in safety at the fort of Andkhoo, a short distance from 
 the field of battle. Here he was besieged ; but upon engaging to pay a large 
 ransom and to abandon the place, he was suffered to return to his own dominions. 
 His entrance into Ghizny was opposed by Yeldooz, a slave ; this opposition 
 obliged him to continue his route to Mooltan, where he was opposed by Zeeruk, 
 a powerful chief, who had rebelled against him. Being joined by many of 
 his friends and some Indian allies, he quelled the insurrection and returned 
 to his capital. This year the Ghoorkas were converted to the faith of 
 Islam. 
 
 Heg. 602 (i2o6). — A band of twenty Ghoorkas conspired against the king's 
 life. Mahomed Ghoory being encamped at a small village on the banks of 
 the Indus, the assassins entered his tent and he fell under their hands pierced 
 with twenty-two wounds. The treasure whith this piince left behind him was
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 9$ 
 
 incredible ; he is said to have possessed in diamonds alone four hundred pounds* 
 weight. He was succeeded by his general Kootb-ood-Deen Eibuk, who was 
 trowned king of Ghizny. 
 
 Heg. 603 (1206). — After his accession, the new king abandoned himself to 
 all kinds of sensual pleasures ; in consequence of which the citizens of Ghizny 
 rebelled against him, and he was obliged to retire to Lahore. Becoming 
 sensible of his folly he repented, and thenceforward governed his kingdom 
 with remarkable justice, temperance, and morality. 
 
 Heg. 607 (1210). — Kootb-ood-Deen was killed by a fall from his horse, in a 
 match at Chowgan,* and was succeeded by his son Aram, who tlie sanv 
 year was deposed by Shums-ood-Deen Altmish, his brother-in-law. 
 
 Heg. 612 (1215). — Altmish defeated Taj-ood-Deen on the plains of Narain, 
 
 Heg. 622 (1225). — Shums-ood-Deen united under his dominions the pro- 
 vinces on the Indus, having routed the forces of Nasir-ood-Deen, by whom 
 they were possessed, and who was drowned in attempting to cross the 
 river. 
 
 Heg. 624 (1227). — Altmish reduced the fort of Runtunbhore. 
 
 Heg. 626 (1229). — The king's eldest son, whom he had made prince of 
 Bengal, dying, the father conferred the title upon his younger son, whom he 
 invested with the government of that province. 
 
 Heg. 629 (1231). — Altmish reduced the strong fort of Gwalior, which sur- 
 rendered after a year's siege. He also took the city of Oojein, in which he 
 destroyed a magnificent temple, dedicated to Mahakaly, formed upon the same 
 plan with that of Somnat. This temple is said to have occupied three hundred 
 years in building, 
 
 Heg. 633 (1236). — Shums-ood-Deen Altmish falling sick on the road to 
 Mooltan, was obliged to return to Delhi, where he died the same year and was 
 succeeded by his son Rookn-ood-Deen Feroze, who dissipated the public money, 
 and excited by his excesses the general disgust of his subjects. 
 
 Heg. 634 (1236). — Ruzeea Begum, the king's sister, advanced with an army 
 against Delhi, which she entered in triumph, deposed her brother, who died in 
 confinement, and ascended the throne. 
 
 Heg. 637 (1239). — The queen excited the indignation her nobles by raisin" 
 to the post of Ameer-ool-Omrah a favourite slave named Yakoot. She 
 married Mullik Altoonia of the Toorkey tribe of Chelgany, governor ot 
 Bituhnda, in consequence of which her subjects revolted. Altoonia raised an 
 army and marched against them, — 9. battle ensued, in which the queen and 
 Altoonia were slain. 
 
 * The game of Chowgan, like our football, consists in two opposite parties 
 endeavouring to propel a ball beyond certain bounds. The parties in this 
 game, however, are on horseback, and the players use bats, like our rackets, 
 to strike the ball. — See Brigg's translation of Ferishta, vol. i. p. 199. 
 
 H 3
 
 f Ij« ^Ibnsstnhtit <^labi. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 JN consequence of the licentiousness and cruelty of Rookn-ood- 
 Deen Feroze, King of Delhi, he was deposed, and his sister 
 Ruzeea Begum raised to the throne. On her elevation great 
 rejoicings prevailed throughout her dominions; and she gave 
 splendid entertainments and public shows for several days, in 
 order to impress the people with an idea of her munificence. She 
 was a woman of masculine understanding, great energy of charac- 
 ter, and much was expected from the administration of a sovereign, 
 of whom her royal father had said, not long before his death, 
 when asked by his officers why he appointed his daughter regent 
 of the kingdom during his temporary absence, in preference to his 
 sons, — " My sons give themselves up to wine and every other 
 excess ; I think, therefore, the government too weighty for their 
 shoulders ; but my daughter Ruzeea Begum, though a woman, has 
 a man's head and heart, and is better than twenty such sons." 
 
 The last day of the public rejoicings on the Sultana's accession 
 to the throne of Delhi was distinguished by wild-beast fights and 
 gymnastic sports, in which the most celebrated competitors in her 
 dominions exhibited their skill. 
 
 During the games, a wild buffalo, which had been kept withoul 
 food for two days, in order to render it more savage, was driveq 
 into the arena, and a large leopard, suffering under similar absti 
 nence, opposed to it. The conflict was short but decisive. The 
 leopard sprang upon its adversary, which received it upon its
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLA VE. lOl 
 
 homs, flung it into the air with fatal force, and then finished the 
 work of destruction by goring it until it was dead, without receiving 
 a wound beyond a few superficial scratches. The animal, proud 
 of its victory, pawed the ground in triumph, and roared as if 
 challenging another competitor. It galloped round the enclosure, 
 raising the sand with its hoofs, scattering it in the air, and plung- 
 ing with all the fury of frantic excitement. 
 
 The Queen sat in the balcony of a building erected for the 
 purpose of enabling her to witness the sports without risk. She 
 was surrounded by her women, who appeared to take no common 
 pleasure in the sanguinary pastime. Among them was the daugh- 
 ter of an Omrah, an extremely pretty girl, to whom her mistress 
 was much attached, and who, by way of distinction, sat at her feet 
 on the present occasion. She waved her handkerchief with all 
 the energy of girlish delight as the victorious buffalo was careering 
 round the area, when a champion appeared before the spectators, 
 causing a hush of breathless suspense as he advanced towards the 
 enraged animal, and declared aloud his determination to encoun- 
 ter it. He was a man singularly handsome, with the frame of a 
 Hercules cast in the perfect mould of graceful proportion. He 
 was tall, but robust ; broad, but compactly formed ; every muscle, 
 for he was naked from his waist upward and from the knees down- 
 ward, sweUing from the surface of his body with an undulation 
 of symmetry that appeared the very perfection of manly beauty. 
 The calm but intense gleam of his eye, which did not for a 
 moment relax, was a legible record, not to be misinterpreted, of 
 his steady drift of purpose and indomitable resolution. His lips 
 were gently compressed, his head was slightly inclined upon the 
 right shoulder, his step was deliberate but firm, and his whole 
 bearing such as could not be mistaken for anything but that of a 
 man of the highest physical endowments. He was armed with a 
 short broad sabre, which he grasped in his right hand, and a 
 heavy-bladed dagger was stuck in his belt. 
 
 The buffalo roared as its adversary advanced, pawed the ground, 
 bent its head, and rushed furiously towards the stranger, who 
 leaping on one side with great agiUty, the infuriated beast con-
 
 to2 THE AB YSSINIA N SLA VE. 
 
 tinued its career for several yards. It however soon returned to 
 the charge, and with a celerity which required all the wary caution 
 and cool activity, so eminently possessed by the champion, to 
 avoid. It was again foiled, but it became only the more enraged, 
 and pursued its enemy with such vigour that he had great 
 difficulty to evade the intended mischief. At length, seeing 
 that the danger was heightening as the animal was in full 
 career towards him, he sprang out of its path, and striking forw^ard 
 with his sword, broke off one of its horns close to the head. The 
 wounded beast bellowed with agony, and turned suddenly round 
 upon its adversary, who, evading a contact with the same dexterity 
 as before, struck his dumb antagonist so powerful a blow upon the 
 neck as nearly severed the head, and the buffalo rolled at his feet 
 in the pangs of death. He then coolly bowed to the Sultana, and 
 retired. 
 
 " Who is that ?" she inquired of an officer who had the direction 
 of the sports. 
 
 " An Abyssinian slave, most potent Queen, celebrated alike for 
 the beauty of his person and his prodigious strength of body." 
 
 " His name ?" 
 
 "Yakoot." 
 
 " To whom does he belong ?" 
 
 " To the mighty Sultana, whose empire is as extensive as the 
 spiritual dominion of the Prophet." 
 
 " Let him be summoned before me at the conclusion of the 
 sports." 
 
 " What a charming man !" said Bameea, the Queen's favourite, 
 CO one of the ladies of her mistress's court ; " and a slave too ! 
 Those limbs of his were never formed for manacles, nor that back 
 for a scourge : what think you ?" 
 
 "That iine limbs and a handsome frame are only outward 
 tokens of beauty, and may conceal more deformity than the 
 greatest monster exhibits to a mere superficial scrutiny. Fruits of 
 the richest colour contain the deadliest poison ; and they tell u9 
 of some, exquisite to the eye, that yield only ashes." 
 
 " Ah ! you are one of those cautious beauties, Zophra, that will
 
 THE AB \SSIN!AN SLA VE. sos 
 
 take nothing upon trust. You would look into a diamond to see 
 what it is made of; but I am content with its brilliancy, and seek 
 not to know whether it is a mineral or vegetable, or a houri's t<;ar. 
 Look at that man again, and say if he is not beautiful in his 
 bondage — if he is a fit object for slavery." 
 
 The Abyssinian had again come forward to exhibit his strength 
 and skill in another encounter of quite a different character from 
 the first. He was now about to wrestle with a gigantic man, dull 
 in aspect and ungainly in his motions, though of colossal dimen- 
 sions and prodigious muscularity of limb. They stood before 
 each other, and immediately commenced the struggle. The 
 larger competitor seized his adversary by the shoulder with such a 
 vigorous grasp as left the impression of every finger. The Abys- 
 sinian soon, however, disengaged himself, and laying hold of his 
 opponent by the waistband of his trousers, threw him foi-ward with 
 astounding force upon his face. The fallen champion rose actively 
 to his feet, and with a flushed countenance again placed his hand 
 upon the shoulder of his opponent, and, striking him at the same 
 moment just below the knee, cast him to the earth ; but as he fell 
 upon his side the victory was not obtained, it being necessary that 
 the vanquished man should be thrown upon his back. 
 
 The slave rose deliberately, with a faint smile upon his lip, but 
 a defiant expression in his eye, that told, m,ore intelligibly than 
 words could utter, a resolution to show what he could do under 
 the apparent disadvantages of superior strength and stature. He 
 advanced slowly towards his huge competitor, stood before him in 
 an erect position, his left arm extended and his right close to his 
 breast, watching with the eye of a lynx an opportunity for making 
 his favourite movement. The colossal champion walked round 
 him, every now and then striking his hands upon his own body, 
 producing a sharp, loud smack, and adopting various evolutions to 
 distract the attention of him to whom he was opposed. At length, 
 with the swiftness of thought, the Abyssinian darted upon his 
 adversary and hit him with his open hand upon the throat, at the 
 same instant striking his feet from under him with a force which 
 nothing could resist. The man fell upon his back with so terrific
 
 104 THE ABYSSINIAN SLAVE. 
 
 a shock, that he was borne senseless from the enclosure. The 
 victor, with modest gravity, again made his obeisance to the 
 Sultana and retired. 
 
 The lovely Bameea was perfectly delighted with the slave 
 Yakoot, and began to feel more than a woman's curiosity to know 
 something of his history. She was anxious to persuade herself 
 that he could not be an ordinary person ; and although Abyssi- 
 nians were at the best little better than barbarians, yet was it 
 certain that there were always exceptions to every general rule, 
 and Bameea felt quite satisfied that Yakoot was one of those 
 exceptions. Besides, she had ren,arked the countenance of het 
 royal mistress as the latter regarded the two last encounters, and 
 she observed an expression of satisfaction which confirmed her in 
 the conclusion she had come to in the slave's favour ; for she could 
 not a moment entertain the thought that Sultana Ruzeea Begum 
 would condescend, even by the faintest expression of her illus- 
 trious features, to indicate a favourable impression of any man 
 who was not worthy to be admired by all the ladies of her court. 
 
 The concluding feat of the day was a conflict with wooden 
 swords between the Abyssinian slave and an Indian, a Catti 
 Rajpoot, who had been taken prisoner in a late invasion of some 
 of the provinces of Hindostan. The Catti, as all his race are, 
 was considered pre-eminently skilled in the use of the sword. 
 The wooden weapons with which the combatants stood armed 
 were made of a heavy wood and were long and broad. 
 
 The onset was commenced by the Catti, who displayed a skill 
 and activity which at first somewhat confounded the slave, the 
 latter doing as much as he could in parrying the strokes of his 
 adversary without attempting to make a return. The vigour, how- 
 ever, of the Catti, gradually abated \ and finding that his blows 
 were so successfully parried, and that he was wasting his energies 
 to no purpose, he began to be more wary. The Abyssinian now 
 occasionally became the assaulter, but his efibrts to hit the Raj- 
 poot were foiled with equal skill. 
 
 Each of the champions had received slight blows, and appeared 
 to be so equally matched, that it was difficult to decide which had
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLA VB. los 
 
 the advantage. The Catti at length grew impatient and lost his 
 caution. His attack was more impetuous and reckless. In pro- 
 portion as he became heated the slave was cool; and taking 
 advantage of his opponent's precipitation, just as the latter had 
 raised his arm to strike, Yakoot hit him suddenly above the elbow 
 with such force that the bone of his arm instantly snapped, the 
 fractured member dropped powerless by his side, and the 
 wooden sword fell from his relaxed grasp. 
 
 This concluded the sports. The Rajpoot walked from the 
 arena in sullen disappointment, whilst the victor was borne in 
 triumph upon the shoulders of four men in a car, decorated with 
 flowers. The Queen quitted the balcony, and the gentle Bameea 
 thought more ardently than ever that the slave was in every re- 
 spect a marvellous man. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EARLY the next morning Yakoot was at work in the palace 
 garden, which was watered by a thousand fountains, and 
 seemed to be the abode of all the beautiful genii which preside 
 over the operations of vegetation. Flowers of all hues and fra- 
 grance decked the slopes and parterres; shrubs of every description 
 to which horticulturists have attached value for their beauties or 
 rare qualities, were here displayed in lavish profusion ; trees of 
 every kind, celebrated for their fruits or for some singular intrin- 
 sical production, were bountifully scattered over this earthly 
 paradise. Fish sported in the marble fountains which terminated 
 the walks ; birds of various feather and accomplishment warbled 
 their gentle notes of love from the embowering foliage ; doves 
 cooed from the arbours, and rabbits grazed upon small enclosed 
 plats especially dedicated to their enjoyments, but beyond which 
 they could not trespass, in consequence of a wire wall which de- 
 barred them from passing the circles appropriated to them. 
 
 Amidst this scene of earthly beauty Yakoot was sad. He re- 
 membered with emotions of stern regret the savannas and forests
 
 io6 THE ABYSSINIAN SLA VB. 
 
 of his native home, where the wild beast prowled and the hand of 
 man was frequently lifted against his fellow with the deadliest 
 purpose. He eyed with solemn composure the gorgeous blending 
 of nature and art, by which he was at this moment surrounded , 
 but it conveyed no gratification to his heart. His predilections 
 were of a different temperament. He sought delight in the 
 rugged and the severe, and therefore laboured with a smile of cold 
 contempt amid the luxuries brought from almost every quarter of 
 <he world by the munificence of eastern regality. He had heard 
 the applause of men, won by his prowess in the sports of the 
 preceding day, but they moved him not. The approbation of the 
 Sultana, which had been conveyed to him with a mandate that he 
 was to appear before her on the following morrow, administered 
 no joy; but amid the gloom of his condition, a light broke in 
 upon his soul when he remembered the smile dancing upon the full 
 pulpy lip of the beautiful Bameea as she applauded his feats of 
 prowess in the arena. He had gazed upon her with an earnest- 
 ness which called the blood into her cheek ; and for the first 
 moment during his captivity, which had only been one of a few 
 short weeks, he felt his bosom glow towards an object with that 
 mysterious sympathy which binds the heart, although in a silken 
 fetter, yet with a security more lasting than links of iron. There 
 was no accounting for the sudden impulse that almost instantly 
 seemed to overmaster the rugged severity of his nature, and draw 
 his kindly affections forth in bland and assauging emotions. But 
 who was he that entertained thoughts of so pure and holy an in- 
 tercourse as that which Heaven sanctions, when hearts are united 
 and ^vishes harmonize ? Was he not a slave ? Could the high- 
 bom and refined look upon a bondman but with feelings of 
 repugnance? And yet, while his lips muttered these querulous 
 doubts, there was an antagonist presentiment within which repu 
 diated them. 
 
 He was at one end of the garden, his eye wandering over the 
 fairy scene around him, when it caught the shadow of a female 
 figure advancing along one of the walks. His breast throbbed: 
 the shadow so truly represented the outline of a form which of aU
 
 THE AB YSSINIAN SLA VE. joj 
 
 Others he desired to behold, that he could not be mistaken. He 
 kept his eyes fixed upon the spot that was in a moment to reveal 
 an object upon which it would be rapture to gaze; and, ere he 
 could finish the expiration which mingled surprise and delight had 
 suspended, the interesting Bameea stood before him. He bent 
 his head as she approached, and touching the ground with his 
 fingers, placed them upon his brows. 
 
 " Ha ! Yakoot," said the timid girl, returning his salutation, 
 "I bring you joyful intelligence. You will not long have to toil 
 in these gardens under the scorching sun to rear flowers and trim 
 shrubs. The prowess which you exhibited yesterday has won the 
 admiration of your royal mistress, and she has declared her inten- 
 tion of having you numbered among her household." 
 
 " I desire not, lady, so near a contact with sovereigns. Slaves 
 are foils to those poor worms of might, and I seek not to illustrate 
 one of the extremes of high and low." 
 
 " But you v/ill find her an indulgent mistress, if you do your 
 duty." 
 
 " That is, if I do not thwart her royal will. The tawny lion will 
 purr under your touch if you cram his ravenous maw, and leave 
 him the fierce liberty of his instincts. Sovereigns are never kind» 
 lady, either from humanity or compassion, but merely to gratify 
 their own selfishness ; I therefore despise royal favours, and would 
 rather labour in this garden under the fierce glow of a meridian 
 sun, with such an object near me, to inspirit the dull hours of toil, 
 as my eyes are now permitted to gaze upon, than be the fantastic 
 puppet of a queen's bounty." 
 
 *' Well, but you will be summoned shortly before the presence," 
 said Bameea, reddening; "and — and — I trust you will throw no 
 impediments in the way of being near the Sultana, because " 
 
 " Why that pause ?" 
 
 " Oh ! because " 
 
 " Nay, my decision will depend upon your answer, lady." 
 
 " Because, I think you would be pleasant company sometimes, 
 when our royal mistress lacks amusement, and our wits are dull, 
 and cannot furnish it. Believe me, you'll find agreeable com
 
 xo3 THE ABYSSINIAN SLAVE. 
 
 panions." Saying this, she tripped Hghtly off, as if she feared 
 something from his reply that she would rather avoid hearing. 
 The Abyssinian watched her receding figure as she glided down 
 the path, until she was lost amidst its sinuosities, the walk being 
 bounded on either side by tall shrubs. 
 
 Yakoot mused upon the past event. Bameea had not been sent 
 to summon him. Why then did she come to apprise him of the 
 Sultana's intention. No such intimation was necessary. It was 
 evidently given at the suggestion of her own wishes. The slave 
 ivas a man of ready penetration, and with instinctive sagacity 
 peculiar to eastern nations in all matters concerning a reciprocation 
 of the senses, he began to think that he was not an object of indif- 
 ference to the interesting girl who had just quitted him. This was 
 a sunlight to the darkness that had lately clouded his soul, and 
 the fountain of life seemed again to gush fresh and sparkling 
 within him, as if animated with new energy. Slavery might be a 
 boon instead of a bane, and his soul was comforted. 
 
 Not long after Bameea's departure, Yakoot was summoned to 
 attend the Sultana. He instantly followed the messengers, and 
 passed into the royal presence. Ruzeea Begum was seated upon 
 a fine cashmere shawl spread over a thick rug woven from the 
 same wool, and worked in the richest devices. Behind her stood 
 Bameea, waving over her mistress's head a beautiful bird of 
 Paradise. Beside the latter was a gold ewer containing perfumes 
 which produced around her an atmosphere of delicious fragrance. 
 Her hookha, sparkling with gems, stood on her left hand, the 
 highly decorated tube resting on a brocaded cushion. Her slippers, 
 formed of the finest Bagdat tissue, worked in gold and embroidered 
 with pearls, were placed beyond the rug upon a costly japan tray. 
 A small circular mirror of burnished steel in a silver frame, and 
 having a handle of the same metal, lay upon her lap. This she 
 occasionally raised in order that she might ascertain if the henna 
 had been properly applied to her eyelids, or if the various cosmetics 
 employed in her toilet had produced their proper effects. 
 
 The Sultana's dress consisted of fine white muslin worked in 
 gold, disposed round her body in loose flowing drapery, and
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLA VE. 109 
 
 covering trousers of the palest sky-blue silk, fastened at the 
 ankles by bands of woven gold. On her head she wore a plain 
 turban, loosely twisted round her high broad forehead, and com- 
 posed of white cashmere. When the Abyssinian entered, she 
 beckoned him to approach, without raising her eyes from the 
 mirror upon which she had at that moment fixed them. He ad- 
 vanced with manly reverence, but not in the smallest degree 
 awed by the presence of the sovereign, whose voice was a fiat, and 
 her will an ordinance. 
 
 Ruzeea Begum was a woman of commanding person, handsome 
 but repelling, and exhibiting in her countenance the somewhat 
 stern and decisive tone of her mind. 
 
 "Slave," said the sovereign, still keeping her eye upon the 
 mirror, " you have won the approbation of your royal mistress, 
 who intends to advance you to the dignity of an appointment in 
 her household." 
 
 The slave was silent. 
 
 ♦' Do you prefer the drudgery of bondage to the lighter labours 
 of attendance upon your Queen ?" 
 
 " I am a bondsman, at the will of a mistress which must be to 
 me a law ; I have therefore no choice ; wherever I may be placed 
 I shall know how to do my duty." 
 
 "Does the approbation of your sovereign give you no satis- 
 faction ?" 
 
 "Much, because it assures me that I deserve it, for the 
 approbation of sovereigns is seldom bestowed unless it be fairly 
 won." 
 
 "To show you that mine has been won, from this moment you 
 are free ; and may your future conduct show that I have not dis- 
 graced my confidence !" 
 
 " My conduct will never be influenced by obligations, however 
 nobly conferred. I have a conscience upon which is recorded, in 
 characters stamped by the hand of Heaven, my rule of life — that 1 
 shall obey." 
 
 Bameea hung down her head. She feared that this bold 
 bearing might rouse the excitable temper of the haughty Queen ;
 
 XIO THE AB YSSINTAN SLA VE. 
 
 but Ruzeea Begum did not appear in the slightest degree dis- 
 turbed, and answered with unusual mildness : 
 
 "I shall calculate upon an honest servant ; for surely he upon 
 whom a queen has conferred her favour cannot fail to be faithful. 
 Your feats of yesterday satisfied me that you are one amorg the 
 few upon whom princes may lean for security in the hour of peril. 
 Such men are rare, and should be cherished when they come 
 before us. I have no more to say. You are free, and will shortly 
 receive your appointment from the minister. See that you do not 
 belie my judgment." 
 
 Yakoot retired; apartments were prepared for him in the 
 palace; and for some days he continued about the sovereign's 
 person, receiving from her very distinguished marks of favour. 
 
 Rumours soon began to spread of the Sultana's criminal par- 
 tiality for the Abyssinian slave. Some of the nobles expressed 
 their disgust, and others retired from court. Within a month 
 after he had obtained his freedom, Yakoot was advanced to the 
 dignity of master of the horse. In consequence of this exaltation 
 several of the nobles rebelled ; the favourite was sent against them 
 with a well-appointed army, and soon reduced them to obedience. 
 The Queen's partialities were now becoming offensive to the 
 Abyssinian. There was no mistaking her wishes ; nevertheless, he 
 treated his royal mistress with a frigid respect, which, though it 
 mortified her deeply, only increased her determination to render 
 him the slave of her passion ; but his heart had a different bias. 
 He had already declared his love to Bameea, who returned his 
 affection, and they exchanged vows of mutual fidelity. Of this 
 the Sultana knew nothing ; but, resolved to win the heart of the 
 Abyssinian, she raised him to the dignity of Ameer-ool-Omrah, the 
 highest station in the state next to princes of the blood royal
 
 ut 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE Sultana was not long in discovering the mutual attachment 
 which subsisted between the Ameer-ool-Omrah and Bameea. 
 Her anger knew no bounds. She summoned the Abyssinian, He 
 appeared before the presence of his sovereign, not without some 
 suspicion of what was about to take place. Bameea stood behind 
 the Queen. She saw by the scowl upon the royal brow that no 
 good was intended towards the object of her love. The eye of 
 Ruzeea Begum was restless, and her fingers trembled as she 
 dipped them into the ewer of perfume that stood beside her. 
 Her full expressive mouth was closed with a compression that 
 indicated suppressed emotion, and the full undulating lip occa- 
 sionally quivered. Her head was raised haughtily as the Ameer- 
 ool-Orarah entered, and she fixed upon him her large penetrating 
 eye with so searching a scrutiny that it seemed as if it would have 
 reached the very core of his heart. He met her gaze with calm 
 reverence ; and having made his obeisance, stood before her with 
 the unbending dignity of a man who has secured the approbation 
 of his own conscience. For several moments the Sultana did not 
 speak, and in her presence no one of course ventured to break 
 the silence. Bameea trembled as she perceived the rising agita- 
 tion of her sovereign, which was evidently increased by the un- 
 perturbed demeanour of the person whom she had summoned. 
 Ruzeea Begum at length finding the ebullition rising to her throat, 
 by a sudden effort suppressed it, and passing her hand gently 
 across her brow, as if to dispel the cloud which for a moment 
 overshadowed it, she said, in a tolerably calm tone, 
 
 " Yakoot " — but her voice slightly trembled, and she eagerly 
 swallowed a copious draught of sherbet. 
 
 " Yakoot," — she had now regained her self-possession — " say, 
 what does that man deserve who, having been raised by his 
 sovereign from the lowest to the highest station, slights that 
 sovereign's favour ?" 
 
 ** Death, if he slight a favour which it becomes his sovereign to
 
 Ilfi THE ABYSSINIAN SLA VE, 
 
 grant and him to receive ; the praise of all good men, if he slight 
 a favour that would degrade his sovereign, and dishonour him." 
 
 " You have treated your Queen with the basest ingratitude." 
 
 " I have done my duty, and if that is not consistent with the 
 station to which a criminal partiality has advanced me, I am 
 ready again to become the slave of the Sultana, instead of her 
 Ameer-ool-Omrah. I courted not the distinction, and will nevei 
 maintain it at the price of my virtue." 
 
 The eye of Ruzeea Begum flashed fire. 
 
 " Slave !" she cried, " thy virtue is but the mask of hypocrisy. 
 There is the cause of all thy disloyalty ;" and she pointed with a 
 quivering lip towards Bameea, — "there is the rebel who has 
 seduced thee from thy allegiance ; but there shall come a day of 
 retribution — a day of vengeance — and remember that the revenge 
 of monarchs is not the sudden irruption of the whirlwind, but the 
 wide-spreading devastation of the hurricane." 
 
 Bameea shrieked as she heard this fearful denouncement, and 
 buried her brows in her small delicate hands. 
 
 " Bear her from my sight," said the angry Queen : " hencefor- 
 ward I dispense with her services. But you," turning to the 
 Abyssinian, who stood before her in the same attitude of un- 
 ruffled self-possession — " you may look for punishment when you 
 least expect it. You have many enemies, and yet fancy yourself 
 secure in the supremacy of your own valour ; nevertheless, though 
 you possessed the bravery of our holy prophet, and were endowed 
 with a supernatural power of locomotion, there is no spot upon 
 «arth or in heaven where the vengeance of an insulted queen 
 would not reach you." 
 
 " Hear me, before I quit your presence for the last time," said 
 Yakoot, solemnly. *' I am threatened with your vengeance ; it is 
 right I should tell you that I shall do my best to anticipate and 
 to repel it, whenever and wherever it may appear. From this 
 moment I revoke my vows of fealty to the daughter of Shums- 
 ood-Deen. When monarchs become tyrants, from that instant 
 they cease to be accredited sovereigns, and lose all right to the 
 allegiance of good men. Had I forfeited my claim to yom
 
 fHE A6VSSINIAN SLA VB. 113 
 
 tespect by an act dishonourable to my name or title, I were con« 
 tent to suffer the heaviest penalty which human laws award to 
 human offences ; but, as my integrity has remained untarnished 
 in your service, I feel that you have now heaped upon me a 
 wrong of which I am not deserving, and from this moment I quit 
 your presence as a foe." 
 
 The Sultana was silent ; she dared not speak lest the current 
 of her rage should burst forth into a torrent, and the Abyssinian 
 retired from her presence with an unruffled brow. 
 
 That night he was passing towards his home, without a guard 
 and unarmed. The street was dark and narrow. Towards the 
 end there was a ruin used for the purposes of stalling cattle, where 
 all the homeless and vagrant of the city congregated. He passed 
 the ruin, but saw not a human soul, nor heard a sound. Musing 
 upon the unpleasant occurrences of the morning, he walked 
 leisurely onward. His heart was stirred to a quicker pulsation as 
 he reflected upon what his beloved Bameea might undergo from 
 die criminal jealousy of her royal mistress. On passing a house 
 supported by a projecting buttress, the drapery of his loose dress 
 caught in a fractured stone, and his progress was thus for the instant 
 impeded. As he stopped, he fancied he heard the stealthy sound 
 of footsteps, and, turning round, soon perceived three figures at a 
 short distance cautiously approaching. They paused when they 
 saw that he no longer advanced. The recollection of the Sultana's 
 threat immediately struck upon his memory like a flash of light 
 There was something so sinister in the movements of the three 
 men that determined him to be upon his guard. He placed his 
 back against the wall, having his left side protected by the pro- 
 jecting buttress. The men advanced, and upon reaching the place 
 where the Ameer-ool-Omrah was stationed, sprang upon him 
 simultaneously, and attempted to pierce him with their daggers. 
 With a sweep of his muscular arm he levelled two of them to the 
 earth, and raising his foot, impelled it with such quickness and 
 force against the body of the third that he fell senseless. One of 
 the assailants who had been struck doAvn was almost instantly on 
 his legs, and nished fonvard with his dagger raised to strike ; but, 
 
 INDIA. I
 
 114 f'HE ABYSSINIAN SLA VE. 
 
 Stumbling over his prostrate companion, the Abyssinian caught 
 him in his arms, lifted him like a cushion in the air, and dashing 
 him on the ground, left him there stunned. Releasing the weapon 
 from the grasp of his fallen foe, he approached the other man who 
 had been first prostrated by the sweep of his arm ; buried in his 
 heart the instrument with which he had just armed himself; and 
 taking their turbans from the heads of the other two assassins, 
 bound their hands and feet together, and in this painful situation 
 left them to the charities of the casual passenger. 
 
 Next morning, the report of a man having been murdered spread 
 through the city, and the two individuals, who were found tied by 
 the wrists and ankles, having been examined, feared to fix the 
 charge upon their intended victim, lest it should lead to a discovery 
 of their criminal assault ; but, whilst they were under examination, 
 to their astonishment the Abyssinian appeared before their judge, 
 and detailed all the circumstances of the attack made upon him 
 by the prisoners, ?Jid how he bafiled them in their murderous 
 design. They were immediately led forth to execution, lest they 
 should betray who had employed them. Suspicion fixed upon the 
 Sultana ; but, as she did not interpose her authority to rescue the 
 assassins from death, the suspicions of the many were silenced, 
 though they were still harboured by the few, as it is too common 
 a practice for tyrants to abandon their instruments when failure 
 has laid them open to the chance of discovery. 
 
 The Queen aftected great concern at what had occurred, and 
 sent a messenger to Yakoot to congratulate him upon his escape 
 from the murderous assault of his foes. He received her deputy 
 with cold formality, but did not even return a message. She was 
 outrageous at her condescension, being so openly slighted by a 
 slave, as she still called the man whom her own voice had declared 
 free, and whom she had raised to the dignity of Ameer-ool-Omrah. 
 The smothered flame did not immediately burst forth, but, while 
 it smouldered, gathered strength for a fiercer conflagration. 
 
 Yakoot, however, took no measures of precaution, although it 
 was evident that the elements of mischief were at work and rising 
 into active combination. He resolved to counteract the perfidious
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLA VE. I15 
 
 designs of the Queen. The spirit of disaffection against hei 
 government had already begun to show itself Her brother Beiram 
 had won the affections of the troops, indignant at being under the 
 dominion of a woman, and disgusted at the impure life which the 
 sovereign was reputed to lead. Many of the nobles, too, were 
 strongly disaffected against her ; at the head of these was MuUik 
 Altoonia, of the Toorky tribe of Chelgany, governor of Bituhnda, 
 and tributary to the Queen. Yakoot, disgusted at Ruzeea Begum's 
 rancour towards him, fomented the disaffection of that powerful 
 noble by pointing out the flagrant enormities of the Sultana's 
 government ; and, as a measure of precaution, secretly joined the 
 councils of the rebels. The hostility of Ruzeea Begum knew no 
 bounds, and she determined that he should expiate with his life 
 the crime of having slighted her favour. 
 
 A few days after the late attack upon the Ameer-ool-Omrah, he 
 was hunting the wild boar in a forest not far from the city. Many 
 nobles of the Queen's court were likewise enjoying this animating 
 sport. A vast concourse of people had assembled, as in Eastern 
 countries they always do upon similar occasions. Carried by the 
 ardour of the chase beyond his companions, Yakoot passed a cover, 
 from which a huge boar darted, directing its course across the 
 plain. The Abyssinian instantly dashed his heels into the flanks 
 of his steed, and it bounded off after the game ; but scarcely had 
 it cleared the thicket, when an arrow, discharged by an unseen 
 hand, struck its rider in the fleshy part of the upper arm, and 
 remained crossed in the wound. Snapping the shaft, and drawing 
 out the reed, he continued his career, and, in spite of his wound, 
 succeeded in slaying the boar. 
 
 It was too evident now that his life was aimed at by secret 
 enemies ; and, without expressing his suspicions, but affecting to 
 look upon the murderous attempt of the morning as a mere acci- 
 dent, he resolved immediately to quit the city and retire to 
 Bituhnda. The Sultana's government was becoming more and 
 more odious every day, and it was clear to him that she had 
 employed assassins in two several instances to take away secretly 
 the lif*? which she dared not openly attack. On llui^ night he 
 
 1 2
 
 ti6 THE AB YSSINJAN SLA VE. 
 
 quitted the capital, and joined MuUik Altoonia, with several of the 
 disaffected nobles. The moment Ruzeea Begum heard of their 
 flight, she placed herself at the head of a considerable army, and, 
 meeting the rebels half-way between Delhi and Bituhnda, a battle 
 ensued, in which the royal forces were defeated by the conduct of 
 Yakoot, who commanded the disaffected, and the Queen was made 
 prisoner. She was sent to the fort of Bituhnda to MuUik Altoonia, 
 who, being seduced by her beauty and affected distress, shortly 
 after married her. Upon this, the Abyssinian retired in disgust to 
 Delhi, and engaged in the service of Prince Beiram, who had been 
 elevated to the throne. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN consequence of the marriage of Ruzeea Begum with Mullik 
 Altoonia, her brother Beiram, who had been elevated to the 
 empire of Delhi, was securely seated upon the musnud. The 
 disgust excited by the conduct of their queen had weaned from 
 her the hearts of those among her subjects who had hitherto 
 maintained her cause, and she had become an object of universal 
 odium. Bold and enterprising, however, she determined not to 
 submit patiently to the loss of a throne, and assembling an army 
 under the command of her husband, prepared to vindicate her 
 rights. Beiram, meanwhile, collected forces to oppose the threat- 
 ened invasion, and placed them under the command of the quondam 
 Abyssinian slave, whose injuries were likely to urge him to employ 
 his best energies to foil the efforts of a resolute and accom- 
 plished foe. 
 
 The recollection of the fierce determination with which Ruzeea 
 Begum had sought his life, was incentive sufficiently strong to urge 
 the general to devote his talents and energies to a cause which 
 impelled him by a double motive — retribution, and a desire to rid 
 the people among whom he had been naturalized from the dominion 
 jf a tyrant. A still stronger motive remained behind. Upon his 
 return to the capital, Yakoot discovered that the late favourite had
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLAVE. 117 
 
 been removed from the palace, and knowing the Sultana's impla- 
 cable passions, he had everything to fear for Bameea's safety. He 
 had been able to ascertain nothing satisfactory respecting her, and 
 his apprehensions were roused in proportion to the suspense which 
 he was forced to endure. It was a sad thing to be divided from the 
 object of his affections through the criminal passions of a woman 
 whose power enabled her to be cruel, and whose malice urged her 
 to exercise that power. 
 
 Although the Sultana was at a distance from Delhi, it soon 
 became evident that neither had her vengeance slumbered, nor 
 was she without tools to execute her will. The secret assassin 
 once more attempted the life of the detested Abyssinian, who 
 again frustrated the sanguinary intention. Finding that she was 
 still so active in putting measures into operation for his destruc- 
 tion, he determined to march without a moment's delay, and by a 
 decisive battle settle the question of her enmity for ever. 
 
 The evening before he marched, Yakoot retired to rest at an 
 early hour. He had not been long upon his couch, when placing 
 his hand beside his head, it came in contact with something cold 
 and slippery. Starting from the bed, he saw a large venomous 
 snake which had raised itself and spread out its hood, and was in 
 act to strike when he retreated beyond the reach of mischief. 
 Upon examining the apartment, he discovered two of these mon- 
 sters concealed under the palampore. Taking them by the tails, 
 he summoned his attendants, who were all ignorant how the 
 reptiles could have invaded the sanctuary of their master's apart- 
 ment. It was however recollected that a snake-charmer had been 
 employed to get rid of those noxious reptiles on the preceding 
 day. He was immediately summoned, but denied all knowledge 
 of the intruders; however, upon the torture being applied, the 
 confession was extorted from him, and he was immediately 
 punished by being flung over the battlements of the city ; after 
 which the forces under the Ameer-ool-Omrah marched from tl:e 
 capital. 
 
 When Ruzeea Begum quitted Delhi on her journey towards 
 BJtuhnda, she took with her the unhappy Bameea, whom she
 
 ii8 FHE An YSSINIAN SLA VE, 
 
 treated with extreme rigour upon discovering the attachmsnt 
 which existed between her and the Abyssinian. She had confined 
 her a prisoner in an apartment of the palace, and allowed her only 
 the most homely food, debarring her even from the indulgence of 
 an attendant, and exposing her to every mortification which her 
 inveterate malice could suggest. 
 
 On the day after Yakoot's last audience with the Sultana, 
 Bameea was summoned to the royal presence ; and all the atten- 
 dants being commanded to withdraw, the former said, " Woman, 
 when menials interpose between sovereigns and their pleasures, it 
 is the habit of princes to prevent them from countervailing their 
 wishes either by imprisonment or death. Thou art too poor a 
 thing to die ; but nevertheless, when we forbear to tread upon the 
 worm, we take care to remove it from our path. How didst thou 
 become acquainted with the Abyssinian slave ?" 
 
 "We met in the garden of the palace. The same brilliant 
 achievement in the arena which won the Queen's admiration, won 
 also mine. We met, our vows were interchanged, and he has 
 remained faithful to his love." 
 
 " And despised his sovereign for a toy which she could crush 
 with the blast of her nostrils. Now, hear me — I love that 
 foreigner. Never would he have been raised from the debasing 
 condition of a slave to the dignity of Ameer-ool-Omrah, if he had 
 not made a deep impression upon his mistress's heart. Monarchs 
 do not advance menials to the highest office in the state, unless 
 they entertain towards them more than a common feeling of 
 approbation. His queen was entitled to his gratitude when she 
 stripped from him the badge of slavery and raised him to a level 
 with the nobles of her court. His ingratitude has been as signal 
 as her favours : but he shall live to experience that a sovereign's 
 hatred can debase him as greatly as her love has raised him. You, 
 who have been the cause of the mortification of your royal mis- 
 tress, can expect no further favour at her hands, and you may con- 
 gratulate yourself with the loss of liberty, when your offence might 
 have been visited with the loss of life. We shall meet again. 
 Gol"
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLA F/jI. 1x9 
 
 The Sultana struck her hands together, and several attendants 
 entered, who were ordered to conduct the trembling Bameea to 
 prison. She entered it with a painful apprehension of what the 
 jealousy of the Begum might prompt her to put in operation 
 against the Abyssinian, towards whom it was evident that the gal] 
 ()f her malice was overflo\ving. 
 
 When Ruzeea Begum quitted Delhi, she took with her the unv 
 happy Bameea, who, on their arrival at Bituhnda, was subjected to 
 a still more rigid captivity than before. The poor girl's situation 
 was deplorable. She was now apprehensive of never again behold- 
 ing the object of her heart's affection, and began to yield to the 
 saddest apprehensions. The hatred of her royal mistress was of 
 too fierce a nature ever to give way to compunction, and she saw 
 nothing but misery before her. Her days were long intervals ot 
 bitterness, and her nights seasons of disturbed and unrefreshing 
 sleep. She grew thin, and wasted to a shadow ; — hope was 
 banished from her bosom ; — she looked forward to death as a 
 release from miseries which now seemed to crush her with the 
 weight of a mountain ; — she felt that death would be a relief, but 
 this was a mercy which suited not the purpose of her tyrant, who 
 took delight in seeing her victim suffer. 
 
 Bameea thought of escape, but this appeared impracticable. 
 As an almost forlorn hope, she tried the integrity of an occasional 
 attendant, who was admitted to clean her apartment. The woman 
 seemed to listen willingly to the tempting promises of reward made 
 by the captive, if she would facilitate her flight. A bribe was 
 placed upon her " itching palm." She clutched the gold with a 
 miser's eagerness ; the doors of Bameea's prison were opened, but 
 she was discovered before she had quitted the palace, and borne 
 back again to her captivity. She had been betrayed. The bribe had 
 been received, and the prisoner denounced. Her confinement 
 was now more than ever rigid. She was removed to a small 
 apartment in which there was no outlet save the door, and this was 
 so massive as to stifle all expectations of escape. 
 
 The poor girl now abandoned herself to the strong impulse of 
 despair. To her surprise she was visited by the Begum, who up-
 
 X20 THE ABYSSINIAN SLAVE. 
 
 braided her with having attempted to corrupt the woman admitted 
 to her apartment. ^' There is no guilt/' said Bameea, with 
 earnestness, "in using any means to escape the inflictions of 
 tyranny. All things are lawful to evade the oppression of those 
 who make their passions the medium of their actions. Your 
 cruelty has rendered my life a bane, and I am prepared to relinquish 
 it whenever your malice shall suggest the sacrifice." 
 
 The Sultana smiled bitterly. " I would not take your life ; 
 that would not satisfy my vengeance. If you were dead, you 
 could no longer sutler the punishment which my ill-requited 
 affections — and of these you are the cause — demand as a just 
 expiation. I intend to punish the wretch who has injured me 
 through you, and he shall yet live to curse the day that he treated 
 with indifference the affections of Ruzeea Begum." 
 
 " But why should you longer feel his disregard when you have 
 now one to whom those affections are sacred, and to whom you 
 have rehnquished the sole right to possess them ?" 
 
 " Political alliances have little to do with the warm emotions of 
 the heart. It is enough that I loved the slave who has despised 
 me, and he shall feel my vengeance. But you may obtain your 
 liberty upon one condition. Relinquish the affections of the 
 Abyssinian by entering into a conjugal alliance with a noble whom 
 I have selected for you, and who entertains towards you a warm 
 attachment. Consent to become his wife, and the doors of your 
 prison shall be instantly unbarred." 
 
 " Never !" cried the agitated girl with energy. " You may keep me 
 lingering through a life of wretchedness within a dungeon, but you 
 cannot rob me of my soul's freedom. My love will only expire 
 with my death, and I will never purchase my liberty at the sacrifice 
 you demand." 
 
 The Sultana's eyes flashed fire, and she quitted her victim with- 
 out uttering a word ; but there was a volume in her glance. That 
 very evening Bameea's food was changed. A curry was placed 
 before her which had been prepared, as it appeared, with more 
 than usual care. She eyed it apprehensively. Suspicions of the 
 darkest description instantly took possession of her mind. She
 
 THE ABYSSINIAN SLAVE. 121 
 
 could not forget the Begum's glance of fury as she quitted her 
 prison : the curry, therefore, remained untouched ; for though 
 death would have been a welcome visitant, yet she resolved to 
 avoid any but that which nature brings, so long as the choice was 
 left her. A small quantity of the homely food upon which she 
 had been accustomed to feed since her captivity remained, and 
 upon this she relieved the demands of nature. 
 
 That night was passed in sleepless agony. She looked forward 
 to the dawn with a presentiment of terror. Phantoms passed 
 before her mind which almost convulsed her frame to madness. 
 She arose and looked at the refection which she suspected to be 
 poisoned : she laid her hands upon the dish, and had all but re- 
 solved to brave the penalty of tasting it, when her better feelings 
 prevailed, her excitement subsided, and she sank into a state of 
 transient insensibility. It was short. She was roused by a 
 stranger. He brought her tidings of great joy. On the afternoon 
 of the preceding day, a battle had been fought betwixt the 
 forces of Mullik Altoonia, headed by himself and his consort, 
 and those of the Sultan Beiram, commanded by Yakoot 
 The former had been routed, and the Sultana and her husband 
 slain. The shouts of victory soon reached the ears of Bameea, and 
 these were shortly followed by a sight of her lover. 
 
 The happy pair were immediately after united ; the Abyssinian 
 was confirmed by Beiram in his office of Ameer-ool-Omrah — the 
 nation prospered under his sage councils, and the loves of Yakoot 
 and Bameea became the subject of many an Eastern legend.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 637 (a.d, 1240). — Moiz-ood-Deen Beiram ascended the throne of Delhi, 
 b»it was deposed by his vizier and cast into prison, where he almost immediately 
 suffered death, after a reign of two years, one month, and fifteen days. 
 
 Heg. 639 (1241). — Alla-ood-Deen Musaood, son of Rookn-ood-Deen Feroze, 
 was raised to the musnud, which, after a reign of four years, one month, and a 
 day, he was obliged to relinquish. His excesses and cruelties having disgusted 
 his ministers and friends, he was cast into prison, where he passed the rest i>i 
 his life. 
 
 Heg. 644 (1247). — Nasir-ood-Deen Mahmood, the youngest son of Shums- 
 ood-Deen Altmish, succeeded the late king, who had been deposed by his 
 nobles. This was a prosperous reign of twenty years and upwards, the king 
 dying a natural death. He was succeeded by his brother-in-law and vizier, 
 Gheias-ood-Deen Bulbun. 
 
 Heg. 685 (1286). — The king's son Mahomed, a prince of great promise, was 
 sent against the Moguls who had invaded Moultan. Having defeated them in 
 a pitched battle, and being too eager in the pursuit of them, as they fled before 
 his victorious arms, he was beset by a party which lay in ambush, and slain. 
 The old king, now in his eightieth year, never recovered this shock, which 
 threw him into a melancholy, and he died shortly after in the twenty-second 
 year of his reign. His grandson Keikobad, immediately ascended the throne 
 without opposition. 
 
 Heg. 687 (1288). — The king, having excited the disgust of his subjects, 
 was cut off by assassins as he lay sick at Kelookery. The ruffians found him 
 lying on his bed in a dying state, deserted by his attendants. Having beat 
 out his brains with bludgeons, they rolled him up in the bedclothes, and 
 flung him out of the window into the river. Julal-ood-Deen Feroze Khiljy, 
 one of his ministers, who had been the cause of the late king's assassination, 
 ascended the musnud, and was cut off by the treachery of his own nephew, 
 Alla-ood-Deen, after a reign of seven years and some months. 
 
 Heg. 696 (1297). — Alla-ood-Deen Khiljy was raised to the musnud after 
 some opposition. His first care was to secure the favour of the troops ; and 
 after having defeated the queen-dowager, and the Prince Kudder Chiin, he 
 ascended the throne in the ruby palace.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 123 
 
 Heg. 697 (1297). — Kowla Devy, wife of the Prince of Guzerat, fell into the 
 hands of the king's brother. She was a woman of remarkable wit, beauty, 
 and accomplishments, by which Alla-ood-Deen was so much captivated, that 
 he took her into his harem. This year was rendered memorable by the death 
 of Zuffur Chan, the greatest general of his time. His bravery became so 
 proverbial among the Moguls, who had so frequently felt the force of his arm, 
 that when their horses started it was usual among them to ask if they saw the 
 ?host of Zuffur Chan. His death was a severe loss to Alla-ood-Detn, who, 
 fiowever, feared him, and therefore expressed no regret at his death. 
 
 Heg. 699 (1299). — Rookn Khan, Alla-ood-Deen's nephew and brother-in- 
 law, having aspired to the throne, attempted to assassinate the king while he 
 was enjoying the pleasures of the chase. Alla-ood-Deen was pierced by two 
 arrows, and he lay on the ground insensible. The Prince Rookn Chan drew 
 his sword, and ran to cut off the king's head ; but being told that he was quite 
 dead, he deemed it unnecessary to sever the head from the body. Proceeding 
 immediately to the camp, he was proclaimed king ; but Alla-ood-Deen, re- 
 covering his senses, appeared m his capital, was welcomed by the citizens, and 
 the usurper immediately deposed and executed. 
 
 Heg. 703 {1303). — After a siege of six months, Chittore was reduced, and 
 the rajah made prisoner. The government was conferred upon the king's 
 eldest son, the Prince Khizr Chan, after whom it was called Khizrabad. At 
 the same time Alla-ood-Deen bestowed regal dignities upon the prince, who 
 was publicly proclaimed successor to the throne. 
 
 Heg. 704 (1304). — Ray Ruttun Sein, Rajah of Chittore, escaped from 
 Delhi. Alla-ood-Deen, having received an extravagant account of one of the 
 rajah's daughters, agreed to grant the father his release, upon condition of his 
 giving up this daughter for the king's harem. The rajah, tired of a very 
 rigorous captivity, reluctantly consented to this odious proposal ; but when 
 his family heard of it they concerted measures for poisoning the princess, in 
 order to save the reputation of their house. But the rajah's daughter adopted 
 a stratagen, by which she obtained her father's release, and preserved her own 
 honour. Having selected a number of faithful adherents, she concealed them 
 in litters, used by women only when they travel in the East, and proceeded to 
 Delhi with her ordinary retinue. Arriving at night, by the king's especial 
 permission the litters were allowed to be carried into the prison, supposing 
 they contained the female attendants of the princess. No sooner, however, 
 were they within the walls, than the armed men, leaping from the litters, put 
 the king's guard to the sword, and carried off the rajah. 
 
 Heg. 706(1306). — Dewul Devy, daughter of the beautiful Kowla Devy, 
 fell into the hands of one of the king's generals, and was brought to Delhi. In 
 a few days after her arrival, the beauty of Dewul Devy inflamed the heart of 
 the Prince Khizr Chan, to whom she was eventually given in marriage. 
 
 Heg. 709 (1309). — MuUik Kafoor defeated the allied rajahs, who had com-
 
 X24 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 bined to make him raise the siege of Wurungole, which he carried by assault 
 after a vigorous siege of several months, and returned with his army and 
 immense treasure to Dellii. On his approach to the city, the king hin. self 
 came out to receive him near the Budaoon gate, where the conqueror laid all 
 the spoils at his royal master's feet. 
 
 Heg. 710 (1310).— Mullik Kafoor defeated and took prisoner Bilal Dew, 
 Rajah of the Carnatic. 
 
 Heg. 71 1 (131 1). — This year was rendered memorable by the massacre of the 
 newly-converted Mahomedan Moguls. Fifteen thousand lay dead in the streets 
 of Delhi in one day, and all their wives and children were enslaved. 
 
 Heg. 712 (1312). — The Rajah of Dewgur was inhumanly put to death by 
 Mullik Kafoor, with the consent of Alla-ood-Deen, 
 
 Heg. 716(1316). — Alla-ood-Deen died, after a reign of twenty years and 
 some months, not without suspicion of having been poisoned by Mullik Kafoor, 
 who aimed at getting the reins of government into his own hands.
 
 ®&^ S^jpoo^ gjarrmig^ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE beautiful Jaya ;vas on her way to join the relatives of her 
 father, who had lately been made prisoner by the sove- 
 reign of Delhi. She was in a close hackery, accompanied by a 
 numerous guard and several female attendants, being the daughter 
 of Ray Ruttun Sein, Rajah of Chittore. The captivity of her 
 father rendered her silent and thoughtful. The tear stood in her 
 eye, and filled the cavity in which it had gathered, but fell not 
 over the fringed boundary that con*ined it. She was a Rajpoot, 
 and would not for the world have allowed the gush of sorrow to 
 stream over her cheek in the sight of her women. It was repelled 
 therefore at the source, but her heart was big with grief, and struck 
 with a dull heavy throb against the walls of its beautiful prison. 
 
 Jaya was a young Rajpootni now only in her fifteenth year; 
 but, though so young, she had attained the perfect maturity of 
 womanhood. Her form was slight, her every muscle had its due 
 and exquisite proportion, and the whole compact was harmonized 
 to the perfect roundness and undulations of beauty. Her Hmbs 
 were small, but exquisitely moulded; and whenever she spoke, 
 every member appeared to exhibit a sympathetic energy, which 
 made the gazer admire with how many modes of expression, both 
 silent and vocal, nature had gifted this rare Hindoo. Her eyes 
 were of the deepest black, but so soft amid their radiance, that it 
 seemed as if they had looked upon the things of paradise, and 
 borrowed the celestial blandness which everywhere reigns in that
 
 126 THE RA J FOOT MAURI A GE. 
 
 region of supernal repose. Her skin had the rich blooming brown 
 of the ripe hazel-nut, and under it the sanguine streams circulated 
 with a healthy freedom, that carried life in its free young impulses 
 through ten thousand channels, over every part of her exquisite 
 frame. The mouth appeared as if it had been kissed by the lips 
 of a cherub, and had stolen its gentle delicate bloom, over which 
 her breath came like an exhalation. She was beautiful and tender 
 as the mother dove, yet inheriting all the firmness of her race, 
 which could both endure and act when the energies requisite for 
 endurance and action were demanded. 
 
 All with whom she came in contact loved her for her gentleness 
 as much as they admired her for her beauty, and she was the idol 
 of her father's heart. Her mother died in giving her birth, and 
 he reared her with a care proportioned to the fondness which she 
 inspired. She had been for some time affianced to a youth of her 
 own tribe, son of the Rajah of !Moultan ; between him and Jaya 
 there existed a strong and abiding affection. Her prospects had 
 been all blighted, for the moment at least, by the captivity of her 
 father, who had been removed by the conqueror to Delhi. Under 
 the impressions which her reflections upon these unhappy events 
 caused, she was silent and absorbed. Two of her women rode in 
 the hackery with her, but they did not persume to interrupt the 
 sacred silence of her sorrow, which she could not conceal, though 
 she forebore to express it. It was deep and bitter. 
 
 As the cavalcade proceeded, a violent storm came on, and there 
 was no village or hamlet near. The covering of the hackery was 
 very slight, and therefore afforded but an imperfect protection 
 against such a mischance. The rain began to fall heavily, and the 
 distant lightning to gleam, followed by the low muttering thunder 
 which rapidly approached. A ponderous mass of vapour, of a dull 
 slate colour, rolled heavily onward, and very soon excluded the 
 sun, producing a gloom as deep as twilight, and investing every 
 object with the same dusky tint. The rain at length fell in torrents, 
 And the cloud above poured from its dark womb a stream of fire, 
 which burst through the shower, and was reflected by the large 
 falling droDS in ten thousand vivid scintillations. At every flash
 
 THE RA yPOOT MARRrA Gh-. 127 
 
 the whole region round was flooded with a blaze of ghastly 
 light. 
 
 By this time the tremendous crashings of the thunder were 
 awful in the extreme ; and these blending with the loud hissing of 
 the rain, produced a din which, though it was the music of the 
 spheres, proved anything but " a concord of sweet sounds " to tlie 
 ears of our travellers. 
 
 The beautiful Jaya heeded not the storm ; but her women 
 crowded more closely towards their mistress, hid their heads in their 
 hands, and gave expression to fearful lamentations. The tempest 
 heeded not their terrors, but raged with redoubled fury. The frail 
 covering of the vehicle in which they rode was soon soaked 
 through, and the rain was begining to drip upon the heads of 
 those within. Palampores were spread over it, which seemed for 
 a time to keep out the intruding water ; but they soon became 
 saturated, and the rain at length forced its way so copiously into 
 the hackery, that it was found expedient to stop and seek shelter 
 somewhere from its pitiless fury. 
 
 It fortunately happened that not far from the spot, at the foot of 
 a small hill, there was a cavern known to one of the escort, who 
 conducted the party thither with some reluctance, as the place was 
 reported to be infested by noxious reptiles of all kinds, and the 
 resort of wild beasts and desperate bands of robbers. The party 
 however taking courage from their numbers, proceeded to the 
 cavern, thinking that any change of situation must be for the 
 better, as the conflict of elements was still maintained with un- 
 abated fury. 
 
 The entrance to the cave was lofty and rugged, the sides having 
 been broken away, and the angles splintered, as if great manual 
 violence had been employed to disfigure what the severe labour of 
 man had originally executed with no little attention to nicety of 
 proportion and simplicity of effect. Dilapidated as it was, the 
 portal was not devoid of beauty ; but without staying to enjoy thfe 
 pleasure of admiration, the whole party passed anxiously into the 
 cavern. Fires were immediately kindled, and many noxious 
 reptiles and large bats ejected, before the place was considered
 
 128 THE RAJPOOT MARRtAG^. 
 
 safe, even as a temporary refuge from the storm, which continued 
 to rage with undiminished violence. 
 
 Towards evening the rain ceased, but it was then considered by 
 the travellers too late to renew their journey, and Jayawas content 
 to pass the night within the gloomy cave where she and her atten- 
 dants had found sanctuary. The hackery was wheeled in, the 
 bullocks unyoked, and the lovely Rajpootni entered the vehicle, 
 round which the drapery was closely drawn, where she resigned 
 herself to repose, her attendants lying upon rugs round a large 
 fire which had been kindled in the centre of the cavern. The 
 apartment was of considerable magnitude, hollowed out of the 
 mountain, exhibiting a square area of about sixty feet on all sides, 
 and five yards high. No light was admitted but through the door. 
 The original purpose of the excavation was mere matter of con- 
 jecture, but it had evidently not been lately the resort of human 
 beings. The ceiling was crowded with large bats, measaring 
 nearly four feet from the extremities of the wings, having heads 
 like small foxes, and bodies larger than rats. They clung to the 
 roof of the chamber ; but, scared by the flames which had been 
 kindled underneath, frequently dropped into them, scattering the 
 fire in every direction in their fierce struggles to escape, to the 
 great peril of the travellers. When seized, they bit the venturous 
 hand to the bone, and thus greatly disturbed the repose of the 
 Rajpootni's followers. These creatures, however, were not the 
 most formidable disturbers of their rest. 
 
 Before they had composed themselves to sleep, a stranger 
 entered the cave, and looking round him for a moment, suddenly 
 made his retreat. He was a Mahomedan. His appearance gave , 
 considerable uneasiness to the Hindoos, They began to fear the 
 proximity of a foe, and were neither in sufficient force nor properly 
 armed to repel aggression from a superior or even from an equal 
 number, Jaya was not aware of what had passed, but it was 
 remarked that the stranger's attention had been particularly 
 directed towards the hackery. The King of Delhi's troops were 
 known to be in the neighbouring province, which he had lately 
 subdued, and a surprise was seriously apprehended.
 
 The RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 429 
 
 A man was sent forth as a scout, to bring word if strangers 
 Were approaching the cavern, in order that the Hindoo travellers 
 might have timely notice, and thus secure their retreat. The man 
 had not been absent above a few minutes when he ran breathlessly 
 back with the alarming intelligence that a detachment of Mahome- 
 dan troops was within a hundred yards of the cave. The informa- 
 tion was instantly given to the unhappy Rajpootni, who calmly 
 ordered the oxen to be yoked to the vehicle into which she had 
 retired for the night, and declared her intention of immediately 
 t"esuming her journey. "Mahomedans are men," she said, "and 
 will not molest a woman. Let us proceed ; they no doubt seek a 
 place of refuge after the storm. We will resign this chamber to 
 their convenience, since the Hindoos and the despisers of their 
 gods cannot lie down together on the same floor." 
 
 " But they are troops of the enemy, lady," said the leader of 
 the escort, •' and will probably force us to make our beds beneath 
 the same shelter with the profaners of our altars." 
 
 " We are under the protection of One," said Jaya solemnly, 
 *' to whom mortal might is as the spider's web against the fierce 
 rush of the tempest. If they use violence, let us trust to Pollear, 
 the Hindoo traveller's god, who will interpose on our behalf, and 
 baffle their wicked designs towards those who seek his protection 
 and pay him homage." 
 
 The lovely Hindoo had yet to learn that there was just as much 
 divinity in her venerated Pollear, as there was truth in the factitious 
 oracles of the prophet of Mecca, venerated by her enemies : but 
 with a calm affiance in the protection of a very unsightly stone 
 image, daubed with red ochre, and often stuck up by the road- 
 side to court the homage of half-crazy devotees, she awaited the 
 entrance of the expected enemy. She was not kept long in sus- 
 pense ; for scarcely had she closed her lips after expressing her 
 confidence in the protection of one of the ugliest gods of her tribe, 
 than a numerous detachment of AUa-ood-Deen's troops entered th.e 
 cavern. 
 
 The officer who commanded ordered them to halt just within the 
 entrance, seeing that the place was occupied. The fue had been 
 
 INDIA- K
 
 130 tHR RAJPOOT MARRtAGR. 
 
 nearly extinguished the moment the approach of an enemy was 
 announced, so that there was only a very imperfect light emitted 
 by the rapidly expiring embers of the fire which had been kindled 
 in the centre of the cave. The officer stepped forward, and raking 
 the still glowing ashes together, excited them into a gentle flame 
 with his breath, lit a torch, and looking inquisitively round the 
 gloomy chamber, said to the chief of Jaya's escort, " Whom have 
 we here ?" pointing to the hackery in which the lovely Hindoo 
 still sat, secluded from the profane gaze of her Mahomedan foe. 
 
 The Hindoo was silent. 
 
 " Tell me," said the Mussulman, " whom you have here, or I 
 shall tear down these trappings and take the liberty of looking. 
 Are you willing to say what is your companion ?" 
 
 " A woman." 
 
 " I guessed as much, for men don't go cooped up behind cotton 
 or silk walls. You are so communicative that I shall trouble you 
 with no more questions, but judge for myself" 
 
 Saying this, he laid his hands rudely upon the curtains of the 
 hackery, and attempted to draw them aside, when the Hindoo, 
 angry at this violation of a woman's sanctuary, seized him by the 
 arm, and attempted to drag him from the spot. The enraged 
 JMussulman instantly drew a short sword and cut him down. 
 Jaya, hearing the stroke and the groan which succeeded it, sprang 
 from her place of refuge, and stood before her enemy in the peer- 
 less eminence of her beauty. 
 
 " I am Jaya," she cried, " the daughter of Ray Ruttun Sein, 
 Rajah of Chittore, whom your sovereign holds in bondage," The 
 astonished Mahomedan dropped his sword. j 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE Mahomedan officer had been quite struck with amaze- 
 ment at the sight of the beautiful Rajpootni, and he bent 
 the knee with gallant homage. He was, however, delighted to find 
 that the very object whom his sovereign was desirous of obtaining
 
 tHE RAJPOOT MARRIAGS.. 13J 
 
 had fallen into his hands. The charms of Jaya had been heard of 
 at Delhi, and the king was anxious to behold the celebrated 
 daughter of his prisoner, but she had hitherto eluded his emis- 
 saries. Her having now so opportunely crossed the path of one 
 of his officers, was a subject of congratulation to the latter, as he 
 had reason to expect that he should not only receive his sovereign's 
 approbation, but be advanced to some more lucrative post than 
 that which he now enjoyed. These reflections passed rapidly 
 through his mind, as he gazed upon the transcendent beauty of his 
 captive. 
 
 " Lady," he said, " this is a fortunate meeting. We have been 
 looking for you daily. Your presence at Delhi will be welcome to 
 the king, and no doubt to your father, who will be restored to 
 liberty so soon as you are placed in the harem of our munificent 
 sovereign." 
 
 " I am affianced," said Jaya, with mild dignity, " to one of my 
 own tribe, and if your monarch have the befitting attributes of a 
 king, he will never violate the generous feelings of the man. I 
 have been taught to look with horror on the creed Avhich you 
 profess, and confess to you that I never could ally myself, by a 
 sacred union of the heart, with one who is an enemy, not only to 
 my country, but to that country's gods. Why then should Alla- 
 ood-Deen seek an alliance with one who cannot respect him ? 
 Be you generous, and permit me to proceed on my way." 
 
 " A man's duty is paramount over his inclinations. I have no 
 discretion, lady. If I were to permit you to depart, I should be a 
 traitor to my king, an enemy to you, and unjust to myself These 
 are weighty motives why I should not listen to your request." 
 
 "A man's first duty, is justice. You can have no right to 
 deprive a free woman of her liberty. The laws of tyrants are not 
 binding upon honest natures, and where it is a sin to obey, it must 
 be a virtue to refuse obedience." 
 
 "We will discuss this question further on the morrow," said the 
 Mussulman, with sinister courtesy. " Meanwhile you must make 
 up your mind to pass the night in good, if disagreeable company.'* 
 
 "Then I am to consider myself your prisoner?" 
 
 K 2
 
 *32 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 " As you will, lady." 
 
 The Rajpootni entered her hackery without farther urging her 
 departure ; and the Mahomedan having ordered his men to 
 kindle a fire, and take up their station for the night apart from 
 the Hindoos, prepared for his repose, taking the previous precau- 
 tion of placing four sentinels at the door- way of the cavern. The 
 Hindoo whom he had cut down, was tended by his countrymen, 
 who bound up his wound, which, though severe, was not mortal ; 
 and the two parties, contrary to their respective prejudices, lay 
 down upon the same floor in undisturbed slumber together. 
 
 The unhappy Jaya was the only one among them whose eye- 
 lids sleep did not visit. She had now a melancholy prospect 
 before her. She should probably see her father indeed, but under 
 what circumstances ? — he in captivity, and she in the harem of a 
 Mahomedan prince ! The thought was agony. Not only the 
 prejudices in which she had been reared taught her gentle soul to 
 revolt from an alliance with a man by whom the idols which she 
 had been instructed to adore were considered mere senseless 
 wood and stone ; but she had a tenderer motive for shrinking 
 from a union which would render her life a burden, and her 
 thoughts a torture. She could not bear to think that fine link of 
 association should be snapped which had combined two hearts in 
 the willing fetters of a most holy love, and the dews of terror 
 moistened her clear brow as she thought upon the probable issue 
 of this melancholy day. She could not rest. The night stole on 
 sullenly and slow, and when the first grey tint of morning pierced 
 through the darkness in which the cavern was wrapped, Jaya was 
 still awake. She looked under the curtains of her prison-house, 
 and saw all around her sunk into profound repose, save the stern 
 sentinels at the portal who kept reluctant watch and stalked to 
 and fro like the ghosts of departed warriors. 
 
 The light now advanced rapidly, and before the apartment was 
 filled with the bright dewy hues of day, the soldiers of th6 
 enemy were awake, and seated upon the floor, passing the luxu- 
 rious tube to each other, and inhaling the narcotic fumes of that 
 weed which has now become an enjoyment in every country ip
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 133 
 
 the world. Having kindled a fire, they began to prepare their 
 morning repast, which consisted chiefly of curries ; while that ot 
 the Hindoos, who were by this time busy with their early meal, 
 was composed simply of boiled rice, mixed with a few split peas, 
 the whole saturated with ghee, which is a butter, called clarified, 
 but commonly so rancid as to smell almost as bad as train-oil. 
 The Hindoos ate their rice in silence, looking on with the utmost 
 apathy at what was passing around them, and seeming not to feel 
 the slightest interest in the fate of their companion who had been 
 cut down the preceding evening, and lay among them, suffering 
 grievously from the torment of his wound. This apathy was the 
 subject of jest among the Mahomedans, who devoured their 
 messes with a greediness worthy of the old Roman gluttons, and 
 chatted upon the subject of their last night's adventure with merry 
 and facetious vivacity. 
 
 The Hindoos heard their jokes without the movement of 3. 
 single muscle ; but no doubt the thought passed in their minds, 
 that, should the harvest of revenge come, they would not fail to 
 reap it with a delight as characteristic as their apathy. 
 
 While these necessary preliminaries to their journey were in 
 progress, Jaya was not disturbed. She refused to taste of the rice 
 and kabobs which had been prepared for her, but merely took a 
 few inspirations through the richly-studded mouth-piece of her 
 hookha, and awaited in silent resignation the will of her captor. 
 She had made up her mind, with that high spirit of resolve peculiar 
 to her tribe, to perish rather than become the wife of a man of an 
 opposite creed to her own. Death, however, was a final resource, 
 and she determined to see the issue of events, hoping that some 
 auspicious diversion of their current might restore her to her friends 
 and to hapi)iness. 
 
 The order was given to march. The bullocks were immediately 
 harnessed to the hackery, and the party quitted the cavern. The 
 Hindoos marched in couples, having been previously disarmed, a 
 Mahomedan being placed on either side of every couple as a 
 guard. The Rajpootni's vehicle was so strongly guarded as to 
 remove all chance of escape. Before it marched a detachment of
 
 134 THE J? A J FOOT mARRIA GE. 
 
 six men armed, and behind it a similar number. The bullocks, 
 uneasy at the clattering of arms and the unusual restraint imposed 
 upon them, — for the Hindoo driver had been replaced by a Mus- 
 sulman, who applied the lash with considerable severity, — became 
 restive, and at length refused altogether to proceed. The more 
 they were urged by the application of the whip, the more they 
 kicked and plunged, and they were at length obliged to be 
 unyoked and led forward. In this dilemma the leader of the 
 Mahomedans approached the hackery, and without removing the 
 curtains addressed himself to his beautiful captive and said — 
 
 " Lady, there remains no alternative but walking until the oxen 
 have recovered their good humour, and will consent to bear the 
 loveliest burthen in Hindoostan. They will be of better courtesy, 
 no doubt, by-and-by, when you can resume the conveniency of 
 the carriage. Rough roads, I know, are not very congenial to 
 delicate feet ; but war, lady, is a sad leveller of distinctions, and 
 there is such a thing as necessity for the Brahmin as well as for 
 the Pariah. You must dismount for awhile." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Jaya composedly, "you are not aware that we 
 Rajpoots never hesitate at dying when urged to do that against 
 which our hearts recoil and our principles revolt. I am willing to 
 bear the shocks of destiny so long as they do not urge me beyond 
 the boundary line of my own conscience ; but no earthly power 
 shall force me to an act which that conscience forbids. I am a 
 woman, it is true, and a weak one ; but know that the weakest 
 Rajpoot that ever breathed would not shrink from death to escape 
 degradation. I tell you now solemnly, in the ears of Him who 
 knows all secrets, that should you force me from the vehicle, you 
 shall not bear me alive from this spot. I have the means of 
 destruction which you know not of,* and will employ them the 
 instant you attempt to force me to an act that, to me, would be 
 an act of pollution." 
 
 The Mussulman was too well aware of the fierce determination 
 
 * Poison, of so subtle a nature as to produce almost instant death, has I een 
 frequently concealed in rings, or other trinkets, in order that it might be re- 
 torted to upon any sudden emergency.
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 133 
 
 of her race, when urged to desperation, not to fear that she would 
 do as she had threatened if compulsion were used to enforce 
 obedience ; he therefore replied with mild civility, 
 
 " But, lady, we have no alternative, save of tarrying here, or of 
 walking forward for a short distance, until the bullocks shall have 
 been rendered tractable." 
 
 " Then I embrace the first alternative ; here shall I remain until 
 you are in a condition to proceed. Do as you will, my resolution 
 is taken, and you may as well attempt to give rotation to those 
 stars v/hich are fixed in the everlasting firmament, as strive to 
 divert me from my unalterable purpose. You have heard my 
 resolve, and I now claim from your courtesy no further parley. 
 I would be left to the best consolations I can derive from my own 
 thoughts." 
 
 The Mahomedan, seeing that it would not be a wise stroke of 
 policy to push matters to extremity, gave orders that the bullocks 
 should be again yoked to the hackery, hoping, as they had been 
 released from the harness for some time, that they would proceed 
 quietly. He was, however, disappointed. The moment the 
 refractory animals were urged forward, they showed their 
 determination not to proceed, and commenced snorting and 
 kicking with great fury. No coaxing could induce them to 
 advance, and the application of the whip only seemed to exas- 
 perate their obstinacy. They were sleek and well fed, having been 
 accustomed to gentle treatment ; the rough driving, therefore, of 
 the stranger by no means suited their wayward tempers. The 
 man, becoming angry at this determined opposition of the rebel- 
 lious cattle, began to whip them with great severity, under the 
 notion of illustrating practically the dominancy of man over the 
 brute ; but in this instance his illustration was the reverse of bene- 
 ficial, for it recoiled upon himself, to his extreme annoyance and 
 mortification. The more ardently he applied the whip, the more 
 vehemently the oxen plunged; and their violence at length became 
 so great that they overturned the hackery, from which the mortified 
 Jaya and her two women were precipitated with considerable force. 
 The calm but indignant Rajpootni instantly rose, dropped a veil
 
 * ^6 THE RA J FOOT MARRIA GE. 
 
 over her mantling face, and, reproaching the officer with having 
 purposely ejected her from the vehicle, expressed her determina- 
 tion not to advance another step with the Mahomedans. 
 
 ** If I proceed it shall be with my own followers only ; and if 
 you use compulsion, I will defy your power by instantly releasing 
 myself from your tyranny." 
 
 " Nay, this is making a mock at contingencies with a vengeance. 
 If I could control yonder refractory cattle, I should have the 
 greatest satisfaction in doing so ] but since they choose to have 
 their own way, you must blame them that you will be obliged to 
 walk— not me. We must proceed, lady ; we have already delayed 
 too long." 
 
 Anticipating the Rajpootni's purpose, who was in the act of 
 raising her hand to her mouth, the Mahomedan officer suddenly 
 grasped her by the wrists, and, having secured her arms, said 
 somewhat sternly — 
 
 " You force me to this. I have one immediate purpose to 
 fulfil, which is to bear you safely to Delhi, and that I must do in 
 spite of your opposition. You have despised my courtesy ; you 
 must now, therefore, consent to march in bonds. When the oxen 
 c ease to be refractory, you shall again be restored to the comforts 
 of your hackery ; in the mean time you must walk." 
 
 The indignant girl did not utter a word. Her dark eye gleamed 
 with a brightness that expressed unusual excitement, but she did 
 not condescend to expostulate. She marched hurriedly forward, 
 guarded on either side by a soldier, her women following guarded 
 in a similar manner. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 JUST as the party with their lovely captive had turned from a 
 naiTOw path into an extensive plain, they perceived a large 
 body of horsemen in full career towards them. The Maho- 
 medan instantly halted his men, and forming a hollow square, in the 
 centre of which he placed his prisoners, calmly waited the onset
 
 THE RA J POO T MA RRIA GR. 137 
 
 It soon became evident that the strangers were a squadron of 
 Rajpoot cavalry. They swept across the plaui Hke a tempest, 
 headed by a youthful warrior, who rode a beautiful white Arab, 
 every vein of which might be traced through its skin as it pawed 
 the ground, when its rider halted to array his troop for the onset 
 of death. When his order of battle was made, he sent a trooper 
 to summon the Mahomedans to surrender themselves prisoners or 
 abide the issue of an encounter in which they must look for 
 extermination at the point of the sword. This summons wa^ 
 received by the adverse party with shouts of defiance, and the 
 onslaught commenced with terrible energy on the part of the 
 assailants, who were received with great firmness by their foes. 
 
 The Rajpoots were more numerous than the Mahomedans, and 
 by their headlong valour and the desperate impetuosity of their 
 charge, they broke through the enemy's line, reached the centre 
 of the square, and scattered instant confusion through their ranks. 
 The conflict was short but decisive. The Mahomedan com- 
 mander was slain by the Rajpoot leader in a struggle hand to 
 hand, the latter being mounted. This produced instant conster- 
 nation among the enemy. The moment they saw that their chief 
 had fallen they wavered, and the rout became general. 
 
 Brief as the conflict was, it had been extremely sanguinary ; 
 for the Rajpoots being mounted, soon overtook those who fled 
 and instantly slew them. The Mussulman detachment was cut 
 to pieces, and thus a signal vengeance was taken by the Hindoos 
 upon the scoffers of their gods. 
 
 Jaya had stood in the midst of the carnage gazing with an 
 anxious eye upon the scene of death ; and although in the leader 
 of her rescuers she traced the well-known features of one who was 
 as dear to her as the first-born to its yearning mother, she uttered 
 not a crj , but calculated the probable issue of the contest with a 
 throbbing heart, whilst her outward demeanour appeared per- 
 fectly undisturbed by any inward emotion. Jeipal leaped from 
 his horse, which he left to its own freedom, and sprang towards 
 his beloved. 
 
 ♦' My sita," he cried, " you are recovered What anxious
 
 138 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 moments have I endured since I heard of your sudden departme ! 
 I instantly followed with these soldiers to protect your flight. This 
 morning I heard that a party of the enemy were close upon your 
 track : but you are restored, my sita ; and I shall now, with these 
 brave companions, bear you company to Jesselmere." 
 
 " Jeipal," cried the delighted Jaya, " your presence has been my 
 salvation. I may now bless the insolence of yonder chief, who 
 has gone to undergo the everlasting doom of the wicked ;— it haf 
 saved me from an awful separation. I attempted my own life t4 
 save myself from dishonour, but his violence frustrated the one, 
 and your presence has prevented the other." 
 
 The Hindoo prisoners being now set at liberty repaired to a 
 grove of trees, under which they squatted themselves, chewed 
 their betel-nut and chunam, smoked, and flung little balls of rice 
 down their throats until filled almost to the uvula ; then rising with 
 the greatest apathy, as if nothing had happened to inteiTupt their 
 composure, snapped their joints, adjusted their turbans, and 
 declared themselves ready to proceed. The bullocks were once 
 more yoked to the hackery, and, being driven by one with whose 
 voice they were familiar and accustomed to obey, they went 
 leisurely forward without the slightest reluctance. Jeipal rode 
 beside the vehicle, the curtains of which, in accordance with 
 Eastern usage, were still kept down ; but the lovers found no 
 difficulty in carrying on their conversation through them. The 
 Rajpootni had now less time to think of the sorrows arising from 
 her father's captivity, her mind being occupied by one to whom she 
 ever lent a willing ear ; her countenance therefore recovered its 
 brightness and her voice its vivacity. 
 
 There were no more interruptions to their journey, and they 
 reached Jesselmere without any further adventures. Jeipal having 
 delivered his affianced bride to the charge of her relations, to her 
 surprise, declared his determination to proceed to Delhi. 
 
 " To Delhi !" said Jaya, her countenance rather expressing alarm 
 than pleasure : " why should you repair to the enemy's capital ?" 
 
 " Is not your father a prisoner there, and do you not desire his 
 release ?"
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 139 
 
 " Yes, truly ; but how can your single arm avail to break through 
 the bars of his prison, surrounded as he is by guards, who are as 
 vigilant as they are cruel ?" 
 
 " Circumstances may arise which we cannot foresee, to render 
 my single power available in effecting an object interesting to me, 
 in proportion as its accomplishment is desired by you. Think that 
 I am upon a mission of love, and be happy. You will at least 
 hear of something before the horns of the young moon unite into 
 a circle." 
 
 '• You go on an enterprise of danger." 
 
 "And are not such enterprises dear to the soul of a Rajpoot? 
 I should be unworthy of your love, if I hesitated to venture my 
 life to secure your parent's liberty." 
 
 " There are perils which the brave may shun, because it is 
 prudent to avoid them." 
 
 " But when a man listens to the suggestions of prudence before 
 the appeals of duty, his bravery is as questionable as his virtue." 
 
 "Go, Jeipal, I would not withhold thee from such deeds as 
 constitute man's nobility. Bear my love with thee." 
 
 " That will be a talisman which shall protect me in the hour of 
 peril. Love is the root of all virtue ; the love of good alone makes 
 man happy. When this principle is dead within his bosom, he at 
 once becomes a monster." After the lapse of a few days Jeipal 
 quitted Jesselmere for Delhi. 
 
 When AlIa-ood-Decn was informed of the Rajpootni's rescue 
 from the detachment of his troops which had made her captive, 
 his rage knew no bounds, and he resolved to carry a war of exter - 
 mination into the fertile provinces of Rajpootana. His anger, 
 however, at length cooled, when he considered that, having the 
 father a prisoner in Delhi, he might still get the daughter into his 
 power. He had heard so much of her beauty, that he determined 
 to possess her, at whatever cost; and this determination had 
 induced him greatly to abate the rigours of her parent's imprison- 
 ment. He was treated with considerable lenity, and permitted 
 such indulgences as were seldom known to be granted to the 
 prisoners of despotic princes.
 
 140 7 HE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 Shortly after the rescue of the Chittore Rajah's daughter, as 
 already detaileyd, the king ordered Ray Ruttun Sein, who had now 
 been some weeks in confinement, to be brought before him. The 
 Rajpoot entered the imperial presence with a lofty deportment, and 
 stood before the Mahomedan sovereign, awaiting the royal com- 
 munication. 
 
 "Rajah," said Alla-ood-Deen, mildly, "you would no doubt 
 desire to obtain your liberty ?" 
 
 " Every man," replied the Rajah, " being born free, looks upon 
 captivity as the withholding of nature's highest immunity. The 
 fortune of war has made me your prisoner, but generosity is the 
 brightest jewel in the king's sceptre." 
 
 " The generosity of princes is only bestowed when merited. It 
 is no longer a virtue when unworthily dispensed : generosity 
 therefore without discretion is an evil." 
 
 "Sophistry, prince, is at all times a lame argument. Virtues 
 never can become vices, employ them how we may. The mask 
 is not the face, neither is the pretence to virtue anything more 
 than just what the mask is to the countenance. I am too hack- 
 neyed in the world's juggles to become the ready dupe of fair 
 words which only cover evil thoughts." 
 
 " Rajah, this is all beside the purpose for which you were sum- 
 moned before the sovereign of Delhi. Are you willing to obtain 
 your freedom ?'' 
 
 " I am." 
 
 "At what price?" 
 
 " At any that will not commit the honour of a Rajpoot" 
 
 " You have a daughter?" 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 " I would make her the partner of my throne." 
 
 " Proceed." 
 
 " Summon her to this city, and you shall be no longer a 
 prisoner." 
 
 " If this is the generosity of princes, such can be no longer a 
 virtue ; it must tlier^fore be a virtue to despise it. To be the
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 141 
 
 pander of kings is no honour ; but for a father to bring pollution 
 upon his child is the most flagrant enormity." 
 
 " Then you refuse the offer of liberty ?" 
 
 " Upon any other terms than those which a clean conscience 
 may accept." 
 
 " Enough ! Guards, bear him back to his prison. A less 
 luxurious regimen than has been allowed him may give different 
 colourings to vice and virtue, when surveyed through the medium 
 of his futvu'c reflections. Away with him !" 
 
 The Rajah was conducted back to the strong apartment in which 
 he had been confined since his captivity, but on the following day 
 he was removed to one of the dungeons of the state prison. 
 
 His confinement now became extremely distressing. Every 
 indulgence hitherto accorded to him was withdrawn, and he was 
 subjected to the extremest rigours of privation. The soul of a 
 Rajpoot generally scorns to shrink from endurance, however 
 severe. With him a contempt of death, of danger, and of suffering, 
 is the noblest exercise of human virtue ; but Rajah Ray Ruttun 
 Sein possessed not these characteristics of his race in an eminent 
 degree. He was fond to excess of those luxuries which his con- 
 dition in life gave him the privilege and imparted to him the 
 means of enjoying. He was an Eastern epicurean, and therefore 
 the privations which he was now doomed to endure were to him a 
 source of extreme distress. Everything that was not subsidiary 
 to his love of indulgence had no firm resting-place in his heart. 
 He had a high veneration for honour in the abstract, but he had a 
 still higher for those animal enjoyments in which he especially 
 delighted to indulge. He loved his own daughter well, but he 
 loved his own pleasures better. He possessed the haughty inde- 
 pendent spirit of his caste, but lacked their qualities of determined 
 endurance and rigid self-restriction. He was brave when the 
 impulse of the moment roused his energies ; but as soon as tlie 
 impulse subsided, the strength of his passions overcame him, and 
 he sank into the imbecility of the mere sensualist. His bearing 
 had been bold and determined before the king, whose prisoner he
 
 14* THE RA'jPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 Iiad become; but no sooner was he cast amid the dungeon's 
 gloom, than the strong bias of his nature prevailed, and he became 
 irresolute, querulous, and despairing. 
 
 Every day he felt the rigours of confinement more and more 
 irksome, and at length thought that he had been imprudent in so 
 resolutely opposing the king's will. He began to persuade himself 
 that a dutiful daughter should make any sacrifice for the advantage 
 of her parent, and under this impression proceeded to argue that 
 she ought, if called upon, to sacrifice her honour to his comfort. 
 Besides, to be the object of a sovereign's affection was not a thing 
 to be regarded lightly. The political influence of Alla-ood-Deen 
 might, by such an alliance with him as that monarch proposed, 
 place the petty Rajah of Chittorc at the head of the princes of his 
 country. Such an alliance might be the stepping-stone to dis- 
 tinctions that should raise his family to the highest elevation of 
 temporal distinction. After indulging in similar reasonings at 
 different times, he finally made up his mind that he had been too 
 rash in so peremptorily rejecting the proposal of the Mahomedan 
 sovereign, and determined to let him know, at the earliest op- 
 portunity, the change which had passed over his thoughts like a 
 pestilential exhalation, and that he was disposed to concur in the 
 king's wishes. Having come to this determination, he lay down 
 upon his rug and slept. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JEIPAL reached Delhi not long after Alla-ood-Deen's proposal 
 to the father of the beautiful Jaya, and his first object was 
 to see the captive Rajah ; but this was a matter of no little 
 difficulty, as Jeipal was obliged to assume the disguise of a Jew, in 
 order to disarm suspicion. He soon ascertained that Ray Ruttun 
 Sein had been removed to a less commodious prison, in conse- 
 quence of having given offence to the sovereign ; but what that 
 offence was did not appear to be known. 
 
 Having formed his plans, he obtained an interview with the
 
 TttR RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 143 
 
 keeper of the Rajah's prison, and represented to him that he was 
 anxious to be introduced to Ray Ruttun Sein, who had some 
 jewels which he was anxious to dispose of, and which the fictitious 
 Jew declared himself ready to purchase. In order to induce the 
 keeper of the prison to accede to his proposal, the counterfeit 
 Israelite offered to give him ten per cent, upon the value of the 
 purchase, which he said would probably exceed a lac of rupees. 
 The rapacious functionary agreed to admit the pretended dealer to 
 the Rajah's prison, provided the door were not closed during the 
 transaction. This was finally acceded to ; it was therefore arranged 
 between the prison official and Jeipal, that the former shoul'5?;. 
 remain in sight, though not within hearing, while the latter agreed 
 upon the terms of sale with the captive prince. 
 
 Early the following morning after this arrangement had been 
 made, Jeipal was admitted into Ray Ruttun Sein's cell. It was 
 a small square apartment, extremely low and ill-ventilated, having 
 no aperture but the doorway, which was secured by strong bars 
 crossing the entrance on either side of the wall, about four inches 
 apart. These bars were inserted into iron sockets, so constructed 
 that the bolts could only be removed from the outside when en- 
 trance or egress was to be obtained. 
 
 As Jeipal reached the Rajah, the latter cried suddenly, " Are 
 you from the King ?" 
 
 " Gently ! Jeipal stands before you." 
 
 "Jeipal ! how came you hither?" 
 
 " We have but a short time for parley. I have obtained ad- 
 mission in the disguise of a Jew, and under pretence of purchas- 
 ing your jewels. My object in coming hither is to apprise 
 you of my being near, and to ascertain the cause of the king's 
 severity." 
 
 " He made me an offer of liberty if I would give him my 
 daughter to grace his harem, but I rejected his proposal, perhaps 
 too haughtily, and you behold the issue." 
 
 " We must be revenged " 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " I came not here to be an idle spectator of the Mahouiedan's
 
 144 2'HE R Ay FOOT MARRIAGA. 
 
 tyranny. You may yet be free. His death would put ah end to 
 your captivity." 
 
 " But how can your single arm accomplish this, when he is sur- 
 rounded by guards, and you are alone and unbcfriended in this 
 great city?" 
 
 " An arrow may reach a man's heart, although surrounded by ten 
 thousand guards." 
 
 " Well I care not what you do, so long as you obtain my free- 
 dom. To me the means are indifferent. If all other means fail, 
 the tyrant must have my daughter." 
 
 " Never !" 
 
 At this moment the keeper of the prison perceiving Jeipal's 
 energy, and suspecting that something more than mere bargaining 
 was passing between the captive and his visitor, came forward and 
 reminded the latter that it was time to close their conference. 
 Jeipal retired, bui his soul was stung at what he had heard. The 
 thought of his beloved Jaya being delivered up to a Mahomedan 
 prince in order to become an inmate of his harem, almost mad- 
 dened him. He rushed from the prison to the astonishment of 
 the bewildered keeper, who now began, too late, to think that he 
 had been imposed upon. Finding however that his prisoner was 
 secure, he resolved to be more vigilant in future, and thus the 
 chances of the Rajah's escape were considerably diminished. The 
 Jew never again appeared before his dupe. 
 
 Jeipal saw that it was high time to adopt some measures to 
 frustrate the king's determination of obtaining possession of Ray 
 Ruttun Sein's daughter. It was evident that her father, already 
 disgusted with his confinement, was prepared to yield to the 
 sovereign's commands, and this the lover was resolved if ]jossible 
 to frustrate. He would willingly have sacrificed his own life to 
 save her from pollution ; for he considered that even by becoming 
 the wife of a Mahomedan sovereign^ he would receive a moral 
 stain which nothing but the death of the polluted and the polluter 
 could wash out. 
 
 The yonng Rajpoot lived apart from the bustle of the town, 
 lookins: silently but vigilantly at passins events, and watching any
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 145 
 
 opportunity that seemed to promise success to the purpose which 
 now engrossed his thoughts. The loss of Jaya would be worse 
 than death ; and he resolved, at all hazards, to make an effort to 
 prevent the accruing of so melancholy an event. He had left her 
 with the relatives of her father at Jesselmere, and promised, when 
 he quitted her, that he would shortly return and make her the 
 beloved partner of his future life. The idea that the fulfilment of 
 his promise might be frustrated by the pusillanimous impatience 
 of her father under the privations of captivity, was wormwood to 
 the young Rajpoot's haughty spirit ; and the thought of securing the 
 lovely girl from the passions of Alla-ood-Deen, was never a moment 
 from his mind. Even in his slumber, images to which this painful 
 thought gave an impalpable but veritable form crowded upon his 
 excited brain, and he had not a moment's repose. The oppor- 
 tunity which he had been so long seeking, at length came. 
 
 It was announced that the King, accompanied by all the nobles 
 of his court, would on the follov/ing week, proceed on a hunting 
 excursion to a forest within about eleven coss, or twenty-two 
 English miles, of the capital. This was an announcement which 
 made Jeipal's heart leap within him. His plan was instantly 
 formed. Hope danced before him like a young fliir cherub from 
 the skies, and he hailed the phantom as the harbinger of his future 
 bliss. 
 
 Upon the day mentioned in the royal proclamation, Delhi poured 
 forth her multitudes to join their sovereign in the chase. A long 
 line of elephants followed the King, and thousands of horsemen 
 brought up the rear. The sight was one to excite enthusiasm in 
 the breast of the most indifferent. The living sea flowed forward, 
 undulating like the ocean when the breeze slumbers upon its 
 bosom and it only gently swells with its own buoyancy, as if proud 
 of its burden, rising to meet it with a gush of quiet transport. 
 Howevel joyous the scene, there was one sad heart tX least among 
 the delighted concourse ; but he mingled with the merry throng, 
 and the plant of bitterness which grew at that moment within his 
 bosom was imperceptible beyond the secret sanctuary in which it 
 was enshrined. 
 
 iNDIA. ^
 
 r46 THE RAJPOOT MARRrAGR. 
 
 The chase began, and continued for three days, during which 
 period hundreds of animals of all kinds were destroyed, from the 
 fierce royal tiger to the timid hare. The King enjoyed the sport 
 during the whole three days on horseback. Towards the close of 
 the third, in his eagerness of pursuit after a leopard, he was sepa- 
 rated from his nobles, and spurred his panting steed after the 
 beautiful beast for some time alone. The animal at length 
 escaped; and Alla-ood-Deen, being fatigued with his exertions, 
 quitted his horse, and, fastening it to a tree, ascended a spot of 
 rising ground which gave him a command of the suiTOunding plain. 
 Here he seated himself alone, gazing at the distant sportsmen who 
 were enjoying the pleasures of the chase below. The scene was 
 animating, and his entire attention was absorbed by the various 
 objects presented to his view. 
 
 Wliilst the King was thus engaged, an arrow entered his body 
 from behind ; and this was followed by another, so rapidly dis- 
 charged, that he fell forward upon his face before he could discover 
 from what quarter the treachery proceeded. He lay for some time 
 insensible, and, when he recovered, found that his wounds had 
 been stanched by some Pariahs, who had their miserable abode 
 in the jungle, and who discovered him insensible and weltering in 
 his blood. With their assistance he crawled to one of the huts of 
 these wretched outcasts, where he remained several days, until hif 
 wounds were sufficiently healed to enable him to move. He was 
 afraid to make the Pariahs acquainted with his rank, lest the 
 assassins who had aimed at his life should be still near the spot, 
 and his Avretched benefactors be induced to betray him. His horse 
 having been removed, he could not stir until his wounds were in 
 a state to enable him to walk. 
 
 When it was found that the King did not return to the capital, 
 the citizens made lamentation for him as for one dead, and had 
 already raised to the throne his nephew Rookn Chan. The 
 customary prayers were read from the Koran ; the Khootba was 
 formally pronounced in the name of the Rookn Chan, and the 
 public criers were ordered to proclaim his accession. The Prince, 
 now d^'^'^'^nding from the throne, proceeded towards the harem ;
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. x^ 
 
 but the chief eunuch with his guard stopped him at the door, 
 protesting that until he showed him the head of AUa-ood' 
 Deen, the Prince should not enter while he had life to oppose 
 Vim. 
 
 Meanwhile Alla-ood-Deen, having quitted the abode of the 
 hospitable Pariahs, walked to a neighbouring hamlet, where he 
 procured a horse, and mounting it with great difficulty, raised a 
 white canopy over his head, which he had caused to be made at 
 the village. Declaring that he was the King, whose life had been 
 attempted during the late sports, he was joined by straggling 
 parties as he advanced, until his followers amounted to five hun- 
 dred men. The army being encamped without the walls of Delhi, 
 the King asc^ided an eminence where he could be seen by the 
 whole force. Attracted by the white canopy, the soldiers imme- 
 diately crowded by thousands to his person. Rookn Chan, now 
 supposed to have been privy to the attack made upon his uncle's 
 life, was almost immediately deserted. In this dilemma he 
 mounted his horse, and fled towards Afghanpoor. Alla-ood-Deen 
 proceeded to the royal pavilion, and, ascending the throne, gave 
 public audience, sending at the same time a body of horse in 
 pursuit of his nephew. This party shortly came up with him, 
 severed his head from his body, and laid it at the King's feet. 
 
 When Alla-ood-Deen was perfectly recovered, he sent for the 
 Rajah of Chittore, and again proposed to restore him to liberty 
 upon the conditions which he had before offered. 
 
 " Your daughter," said he, " cannot be dishonoured by the 
 /fections of the most powerful monarch of the East." 
 
 " Our faith forbids such a union." 
 
 " But if I am not actuated by the difference of creeds, why 
 should you ? Can you think I revere religion less because I re- 
 fuse to be bound by the manacles forged by superstition ? One 
 only alternative remains to you; within sixty days, if your 
 daughter be not delivered up to me, you shall suffer by a i)ublic 
 execution. Comply with my wishes, and you shall not merely be 
 restored to your government, but be advanced to the highest 
 dignities in nay kingdom." 
 
 L 2
 
 UB THR RAJPOOT MARRIAGR. 
 
 " \Vliat will those dignities avail me if I am despised by my 
 
 nation ?" 
 
 " Cast off the trammels, then, which priestcraft has woven to 
 enthral you, and become a convert to the faith of Islam, and you 
 will find that those dignites will avail you much. What say you ?" 
 
 "That I will never relinquish my faith ; but as my daughter is 
 secondary in my estimation to that faith, I consent that she shall 
 be yours upon condition that I receive my liberty. I shall im- 
 mediately summon her to your capital. She will not refuse to 
 obey the mandate of her father. Within forty days she shall be 
 delivered to your protection. It is a parent's severest sacrifice." 
 
 He was conducted to his prison to prepare the parental summons. 
 Meanwhile Jeipal had quitted Delhi and arrived at Jesselmere. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHEN Jeipal reached Jesselmere, he confided to Jaya the 
 secret of having attacked the king's life. He immediately 
 quitted Delhi, after having shot AUa-ood-Deen, whom he con- 
 cluded was dead. He had entirely escaped suspicion, and was 
 congratulating Jaya and himself upon the fortunate issue of his 
 enterprise, when a summons came from Ray Ruttun Sein, desiring 
 •his daughter immediately to proceed to Delhi, to become the wife 
 of its sovereign. This was a severe shock to the hopes of the 
 lovers ; but Jeipal determined that his plighted bride should never 
 enter the walls of Delhi for such a purpose, and they both 
 agreed to embrace the sad alternative of dying by their own hands 
 rather than obey the parental command. Jaya's relatives were 
 greatly alanned lest pollution should fall upon their house, and 
 they proposed that the young Rajpootni should offer herself up as 
 a victim in one of their temples, in order to escape the miseries 
 with which she was threatened. 
 
 " Nay," said tlie beautiful girl, " it is time enough to die when 
 no other means of escape remain ; but wliy should I leave those
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 149 
 
 wlio are so dear to me, so long as I am enabled to continue with 
 th;m, — and why should I seek death as a release from misery yet 
 at a distance, while the means of enjoyment are so near? I pro- 
 mise you I will perish rather than submit to pollution ; nevertheless, 
 I will live so long as my beloved Jeipal can be by to protect me 
 with a husband's arm, and to cheer me with a husband's blessing." 
 
 It was agi-eed that their marriage should instantly take place. 
 This was assented to by the relatives, among whom was Jaya's 
 mother ; but they determined to poison both bride and bridegroom 
 at the wedding feast, in order to prevent the possibility of the 
 pollution which they apprehended, as they felt confident the mar- 
 riage of the parties would not prevent the King of Delhi from still 
 demanding the lovely Rajpootni. Preparations were accordingly 
 made for the wedding. 
 
 On the day appointed, Brahmins poured in from all parts of 
 the country, to the number of six thousand. These were main- 
 tained during the whole period of the marriage ceremonies, which 
 lasted a week, at the expense of the young votaries of Pollear.* 
 Each Brahmin received a pagne, which is a kind of dress bestowed 
 upon these occasions. 
 
 Upon the day when the marriage was solemnized, the bride 
 and bridegroom sat beside each other in an apartment of Jaya's 
 mother's house. Before them were placed several earthen pots 
 full of water, ranged in a circle. Among these were two large 
 jars, disposed on either side of the young couple. In the middle 
 of the circle formed by the water-pots, there was a raised platform 
 of wood. The two large jars were covered with capitals of earth 
 in the form of a column, to be removed immediately after the 
 marriage ceremony. The apartment was lighted by a number of 
 lamps, representing Agni, the god of fire, which cast a dull lurid 
 light upon the various objects around. 
 
 The preliminaiy arrangements being made, the officiating 
 Brahmin prayed that Vishnu and Lakshmi would descend into the 
 two large vessels upon which the earth had been piled, and that 
 
 ♦ The Hindoo Hymen.
 
 t3» THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 they would force the Devatas, or inferior deities, to occupy the 
 smaller pots, which had been ranged in a circle. The Homan or 
 sacrifice was then made. A fire was lit upon the earth with those 
 peculiar woods used at sacrifices, of which there are twelve kinds. 
 While the flame was kindling, the hierophant, commenced reciting 
 certain prayers in a dialect understood by none but the priesthood, 
 and frequently not even by them. Whilst reciting these unin- 
 telligible supplications, he continued to keep up the sacrificial 
 fire of the Homan, by pouring butter upon it, and supplying it 
 with fuel. So soon as the prayers were ended, he approached one 
 of Jaya's uncles, who, being nearest of kin, represented her father, 
 upon this solemn occasion, placed him by the bride, and instructed 
 him in several little particulars required to complete the ceremony. 
 
 After having received the necessary instructions, the paternal 
 representative put upon his niece's palm a number of plantains, 
 together with a small coin of gold. He next placed the right- 
 hand of the bride within that of the bridegroom. The mother 
 now advanced, and having poured water upon their hands, the 
 young couple were finally united. The Brahmin then took the 
 tali, or marriage symbol — equivalent to the ring in Christian mar- 
 riages — presented it first to the gods, then to the bride and bride- 
 groom, and finally to the guests, all of whom put their hands 
 upon it. This being concluded, the tali was given to the hus- 
 band, who tied it round the bride's neck ; which completed the 
 ceremony. 
 
 After the marriage rite had been solemnized, the matrimonial 
 benediction was bestowed as follows : The husband swore before 
 the fire, the officiating Brahmin being present, that he would take 
 care of his wife so long as he lived. He then took her by the 
 little finger of the right hand, and in this way they walked three 
 times round the platform raised within the circle of jars. Near 
 this was placed a flat stone, u?ed for pounding ingredients with 
 n-hich the curries were to be prepared for the marriage feast. 
 When they came near this stone, the bridegroom passed one of 
 his wife's feet over it, as a token of the new obligation into 
 which she had entered, of subserviency to her husband. The
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 151 
 
 platform having been encompassed three times, large basins of 
 rice were brought and laid before the newly-married pair. The 
 officiating Brahmin then took a small quantity of turmeric, and 
 mixing it with the rice, repeated several prayers during the 
 process. Now filling both bis hands with rice from a large platter, 
 he flung it first over the husband's shoulders, and next over those of 
 the wife. All the company present immediately rose, and then 
 the same ceremony was repeated. This, among Hindoos, is the 
 universal matrimonial benediction. 
 
 About three hours after noon, the marriage feast was provided 
 for an immense number of guests, who had assembled from all 
 quarters upon this joyous occasion. Every luxury which the most 
 fruitful of climates afforded was produced. The relatives of Jaya, 
 however, amid this scene of general festivity seemed grave and 
 dissatisfied. Not a countenance but theirs was saddened. 
 Jeipal was at length blest. His wishes were consummated, and 
 he felt no longer any apprehension of being torn from the partner 
 of his earthly joys, now that she had become legally and morally 
 his. The thought of her father's captivity was the only interrup- 
 tion of his and the bride's happiness, but he still resolved to 
 leave nothing unattempted to restore Ray Ruttun Sein to his 
 family. " Something must be devised," said he to the anxious 
 Jaya, " to rescue your parent from that odious thraldom to which 
 he is likely to fall a victim if not speedily released, and, whatever 
 the hazard, it has now become my duty to risk my life in securing 
 his freedom." 
 
 A short time before the parties assembled to partake of the 
 marriage-feast, Jaya had gone into a small apartment to deck 
 her beautiful brows with some gems, in order that she might 
 appear with the greatest possible lustre before her guests. This 
 room led into a larger chamber, being separated only by a thin 
 plaster partition. She had not been long occupied in arranging her 
 jewels, when her uncle and his wife entered the outer apartment, 
 and cautiously closing the door, Jaya overheard the following 
 conversation : 
 
 " Where is the newly-wedded ?" inquired the uncle.
 
 tS3 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 " In the veranda with her happy Jeipal," 
 
 " Are you certain ?" 
 
 "A very short time has elapsed since I saw them together, 
 and they were too happy to separate." 
 
 " What think you of this marriage ?" 
 
 " It is an ominous union. She must not live. The Mahome- 
 dan will never relinquish his desire to obtain her while she is 
 alive, and our house shall not be degraded whilst we have the 
 means of obviating it." 
 
 " Then both must perish, for Jeipal would visit the destroyer 
 of his bride with terrible retribution." 
 
 " Ay, he's a true Rajpoot ; death with him is as commonplace 
 a matter as eating his curry — 'tis no great sacrifice for such a 
 man to die." 
 
 " But how is their death to be accomplished ?" 
 
 " Thus. I will prepare two dishes for them especially, which 
 shall be placed before each at the feast. I know what is most 
 grateful to both, and will take care that they shall be provided 
 with a mess which will secure us from future apprehension. In 
 order to escape all chance of suspicion, I propose that the same 
 dish precisely shall be placed before you, only yours will contain 
 no poison. Elated as they now are they will not apprehend 
 danger, and thus we are secure." 
 
 Jaya was so agitated at what she heard, that she could scarcely 
 support herself, and fearing lest the base plotters against her life 
 should enter her apartment, she got under a small charpoy* which 
 stood in a comer, having first thrown upon it a palampore, that 
 hung down over the side, and thus effectually concealed her. It 
 was a fortunate thing that she took this precaution; for her 
 uncle, in order to be sure that his conversation with his wife 
 had not been overheard, looked into the room, but seeing nobody, 
 and not suspecting that any one could be hidden under the 
 charpoy, he quitted the apartment with his partner in iniquitj?. 
 
 * A bed-frame.
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. .53 
 
 both being perfectly satisfied that their murderous plan was a 
 secret which could transpire only in its consummation. 
 
 When all was clear, Jaya crept from her place of concealment, 
 and stealing warily out of the chamber, joined her anxioui 
 husband, to whom she related what she had just overheard. His 
 indignation was raised to such a pitch at discovermg the horrible 
 purpose of his wife's relatives, that he was about to denounce 
 them, and inflict upon them summary chastisement. He was, 
 however, withheld by his more cautious bride, who besought him 
 to take no notice of what had passed, but make the guilt of her 
 uncle and his equally cruel partner recoil upon their own heads. 
 She had some difficulty in appeasing him ; at length the appeal of 
 a beautiful woman, and that beautiful woman his virgin bride, 
 subdued his ire, and he listened to her proposal of obviating the 
 menaced destruction, which was as follows : — 
 
 She suggested that he should take the opportunity, when the 
 guests were engaged before the feast commenced, of exchanging 
 the dish prepared for him, placing it before her uncle, and taking 
 his. " I," continued Jaya, " will not taste mine, and thus the 
 poisoned mess will be eaten by the husband of her who prepared 
 it. In case of his death she will be obliged to follow him to the 
 funeral pile ; thus shall we be fully revenged." 
 
 Jeipal embraced his sita, and consented with ready satisfaction 
 to her mode of punishing the atrocious designs of her relatives : 
 they fancying their secret secure, and confident of the success of 
 their scheme, mingled smilingly .among the guests, and affected 
 extreme kindness towards the young wedded pair, who received 
 their caresses with repugnant formality at the hazard of raising 
 their suspicion. Those entertainments which were precursors of 
 the feast being introduced, tomtoms, viols, serindas, vinas, and 
 various other instruments, struck up their singular melody, and 
 " ravished the ears" of those who loved such music as would be 
 little grateful to the fastidious refinement of European taste. 
 Nautch girls were first ushered in ; they performed their graceful 
 evolutions, tinkled their tiny silver ankle-bells, and did their best
 
 rs4 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 for the amusement of the company. Jugglers with their snakes 
 likewise appeared, showing their mastery over those venomous 
 creatures, which they grasped by the neck, tied round their throats, 
 even while their jaws were armed with those instruments of death 
 with which nature had provided them. Their feats of legerdemain 
 were next exhibited, to the general satisfaction of all present ; but 
 that which most excited the amazement of the company was the 
 following : — The jugglers " produced a man, whom they divided 
 limb from limb, actually severing his head from his body. They 
 scattered these mutilated members along the ground, and in thisf 
 state they lay for some time. They then extended a sheet ot 
 curtain over the spot, and one of the men putting himself under 
 the sheet, in a few minutes came from below, followed by the in- 
 dividual supposed to have been cut into joints, in perfect health 
 and condition, and one might safely swear that he had never 
 received any wound or injury whatever. 
 
 " They next caused two tents to be set up at the distance of a 
 bow-shot the one from the other, the doors or entrances being 
 placed exactly opposite. They raised the tent walls all round, and 
 desired that it might be particularly observed they were empty. 
 Then fixing the tent walls in the ground, two men entered, one 
 into each tent. Thus prepared, they said they would undertake 
 to bring out of the tents any animal the company chose to mention, 
 whether bird or beast, and set them in conflict with each other, 
 Jeipal, with a smile of incredulity, required them to exhibit a battle 
 between two ostriches. In a few minutes two ostriches of the 
 largest size issued, one from either tent, and attacked each other 
 with such fury that the blood was seen streaming from their heads. 
 They were at the same time so equally matched, that neither could 
 get the better of the other, and they were therefore separated by 
 the men, and conveyed within the tents. Jaya's uncle then called 
 for the Neilahgao, and immediately were seen to issue from their 
 tents two of these untameable animals, equally large, fat, and 
 fierce, which likewise commenced a furious combat, seizing each 
 other by the neck, and alternately forcing one another tiackwards 
 and forwards for the space of nearly two guhrries of time, alter
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 455 
 
 which they were also separated and withdrawn into the tents. In 
 short, they continued to produce from either tent whatever animal 
 the company chose to name, and before their eyes set them to 
 fight in the manner above described."* 
 
 When the jugglers had withdrawn, the guests commenced the 
 .more substantial enjoyments of the table. Jeipal and Jaya marked 
 where their respective dishes were placed, towards which they 
 were finally conducted by a sort of master of the ceremonies. 
 During the first bustle, Jeipal contrived to remove his own dish, 
 and substitute that of Jaya's uncle before the latter had taken his 
 station. The confusion was so great, caused by the various move- 
 ments of such a number of persons, that the change of dishes was 
 a matter of no great difficulty. 
 
 Jeipal began to eat of the mess before him in order to give 
 encouragement to his wife's relation, who was placed by his 
 side. The latter unsuspiciously ate of the poisoned food, and in 
 a very short time had consumed the whole contents of the fatal 
 dish. Jeipal, meanwhile, was not backward, but followed the 
 example of Jaya's uncle, and soon saw the bottom of his platter. 
 Jaya had not tasted hers, which being remarked by her aunt, the 
 latter pressed her with extreme urgency to eat, but her solicitations 
 being firmly resisted, she expressed great anger. " Is it thus you 
 serve your guests, to refuse partaking of your own wedding ban- 
 quet, as if you were not willing that they should enjoy it, or 
 begrudged what has been provided ?" 
 
 " I don't like the appearance of this dish," said Jaya calmly ; 
 " it has an unnatural smell, too. In short, I shall not taste it.'" 
 
 " It was prepared on purpose for you, and of those very ingre- 
 dients of which you have always expressed yourself so fond." 
 
 " I know it has been prepared for me, and therefore decline it ; 
 but to show you how little selfish I am in partaking of anything 
 especially prepared for me, I resign it to you with the greatest 
 
 • See the Autobiographical Memoirs of the Emperor Jehangire, translated 
 by Major David Price. From this singular memoir I have extracted the two 
 passages marked with inverted commas, merely altering the names and a word 
 or two, in order to make them harmonize with the narrative.
 
 *Sfi THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 cheerfulness — pray eat it, and I shall be much better satisfied than 
 ta.king the indulgence myself." 
 
 The woman shrank back with a consciousness that she had been 
 detected. In a short time the poison began to operate upon her 
 husband. His cheeks became blanched, his lips closed with a 
 convulsive compression, his whole body stiffened, and he fell upon 
 the floor. The poison was of so potent a nature, that within a few 
 minutes he was a corpse. Considerable confusion prevailed ; the 
 body was removed ; but such is the characteristic apathy of the Hin- 
 doo, that the banquet was concluded without further interruption. 
 No inquiry was made as to the cause of the man's death. It was 
 looked upon as a sudden visitation for some secret crime. No 
 pity was expressed for the sufferer, but for one it was an event 
 to be deeply deplored. The wife had the awful prospect of ex- 
 piring amid the flames upon the body of her deceased husband. 
 
 The guests separated, and this wretched woman was left to the 
 dreadful companionship of her own fierce repinings. On the 
 morrow her husband was to be consumed upon the pile amid the 
 flames of which she would be doomed to expire. It was a fearful 
 thought. She was not prepared to die, and the very idea of death 
 was at once a dread and an agony. 
 
 The day of sacrifice dawned. The noisy tomtoms and harsh 
 brazen trumpets warned her of the solemn obligation which she 
 was called upon to fulfil. The shouts of thousands of mad enthu- 
 siasts rent the air; but she was reluctant to answer their acclama- 
 tions by exhibiting herself as a willing oblation. The Brahmins, 
 perceiving her fears, administered opium in such quantities that 
 she soon became stupefied ; still, nothing could remove her ex- 
 treme horror of death. 
 
 The opium at length took such an effect upon her, that she 
 scarcely knew what she did, and was finally induced to accompany 
 the Brahmins to the pile. The sight of it renewed her terrors. After 
 a while the effects of the opiate had somewhat subsided, and 
 when within the area in which the fatal pyre had been reared, she 
 positively refused to ascend it ; but it was now too late — she had 
 gone too far to retract. The Brahmins surrounded her — the torn-
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 157 
 
 loms began their din, the trumpets their clamour, and she was 
 forced upon the fatal platform. Fire was instantly applied. She 
 raised herself amid the flames, but was forced back by the 
 officiating Brahmins with long bamboos. Her hair streamed upon 
 the breeze — her arms were a moment raised with the violent 
 action of agony — her eyes almost started from their sockets — but 
 the flames rose higher and fiercer. Being struck in the temple 
 with a bamboo, she fell backward into the devouring element, and 
 was no more seen. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE only thing that now remained to complete the happiness 
 of Jaya was her father's liberty. It happened about this 
 time that Ray Ruttun Sein was taken alarmingly ill. Fearing that 
 his former summ^ons might not be attended to, and more than ever 
 anxious to obtain his freedom, he sent to his daughter to entreat her 
 to visit him that he might see her before he died. Alla-ood-Deen 
 had promised the Rajah, that the moment the beautiful Jaya ap- 
 peared within the walls of his capital her father should be restored 
 to liberty. The latter evidently preferred his own personal ease 
 to his daughter's honour ; nevertheless she determined to accede 
 to his wishes, but at the same time resolved that her presence in 
 Delhi should be the means of her parent's escape. In reply to 
 his communication she wrote, that she should shortly appear at 
 the Mahomedan capital, in obedience to his and the King's 
 wishes, and when she had made the necessary preparations for 
 her journey she would let him know the day on which he might 
 look for her arrival. She had devised a plan for her father's 
 escape, which, with the concurrence of her husband, she prepared 
 to put into practice without further delay. Alla-ood-Deen was 
 beyond measure elated when he heard that the lovely Jaya had at 
 length consented to become the pride and glory of his harem. 
 He immediately ordered the rigours of her father's captivity to be 
 iibated. He was removed to a conunodious apartment where
 
 1S8 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 everything he required was provided, and his disorder began 
 gradually to subside. The King went to visit him in person, but 
 Ray Ruttun Sein could not meet cordially the man who had 
 treated him with such wanton indignity, and forced him to an act 
 against which his conscience rebelled. 
 
 " Rajah," said the King, " you have at length consented to make 
 me happy. When the possession of your daughter is secured t(> 
 me, you have only to name the price of her dowry, and it shall be 
 paid into your hands. You may look to be raised to the highest 
 office under my government." 
 
 ** I had rather be supreme in my own little principality than 
 second even under so great a sovereign as he who sits on the 
 throne of Delhi. All I desire is my freedom, and I only regret 
 the nature of the ransom which your tyranny forces me to pay." 
 
 " Alliances with Kings are cheaply purchased upon any terms ; 
 and why should you grieve at your daughter becoming the wife of 
 a powerful monarch ?" 
 
 " Because she has already a protector, and consequently can 
 never occupy a place in your harem but as a degraded wife. 
 However, I have commanded her presence here, and daily expect 
 her j but you may prepare to encounter the vengeance of an in- 
 jured husband ; and I need not tell you that a Rajpoot foregoes 
 his revenge but with his death." 
 
 "I laugh at the vain efforts of a puny youth, who will have 
 brought what you call his wrongs upon himself He married youi 
 daughter when he knew that I had made overtures to possess 
 her." 
 
 *• She had been pledged to him from infancy." 
 
 " But the will of kings sets aside such idle pledges ; they, there- 
 fore, should not have been fulfilled." 
 
 " Our destinies are not dependent upon the will of kings. It 
 has been hers to marry Jeipal, and all the powers of your exten- 
 sive regality cannot sunder the mystical link which unites them. 
 You may separate them from each other, but that conjunction of 
 soul in which they are mutually joined is beyond your control — 
 you cannot annul it."
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 159 
 
 " But I will tear them asunder in spite of it ; and let me tell 
 you that while I live no power I possess shall be spared to secure 
 the one great object of my wishes, which is the possession oi 
 your daughter Jaya." 
 
 "That I have promised you, and the word of a Rajpoot is a 
 sacred bond, forfeited only with life." 
 
 Alla-ood-Deen quitted his presence with some lurking appre- 
 hensions that it was the Rajpoot's intention still to evade his 
 demands ; he was therefore daily urgent to know the day which 
 his daughter had fixed for her appearance at his capital. A week 
 elapsed, but no communication had been made by the wife of 
 Jeipal, and her father began to suspect that she had no intention 
 of fulfilling her promise. On the following morning, however, he 
 received a written communication from her, in which she stated 
 that on the tenth day following she should be at Delhi ; at the 
 same time detailing to him a plan which she had devised, in con- 
 currence with her husband, in order to effect his escape. He was 
 delighted with the scheme, and prepared to advance its accomplish- 
 ment to the best of his power. The idea of escape from the odious 
 thraldom to which he had been subjected, gave such an impulse 
 to his spirit that he soon shook off the lethargy of disease, and within 
 a week was perfectly restored to his usual state of health. 
 
 The king, delighted at the near prospect of possessing the 
 lovely Jaya, commanded that .her entrance into Delhi should be 
 distinguished by the strongest tokens of his affection. A guard 
 was ordered to receive her at the gate, and pay her military 
 honours as she passed through. She had requested her father to 
 obtain the king's passport for herself and retinue to proceed by 
 slow marches towards the capital without interruption. Alla-ood- 
 Deen had immediately granted her request, and given orders at all 
 the towns and villages that she and her attendants should be 
 exonerated from the ordinary scrutiny to which all travellers 
 were subjected. 
 
 Ray Ruttun Sein waited with impatience for the day when hb 
 should welcome his daughter's arrival at the Mahomedan capital. 
 Allo-ood-Deen was no less impatient to behold the woman tP
 
 i6o THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 whom report had ascribed such singular personal endoAAinents. 
 His harem was fitted up for her reception with extraordinary 
 splendour ; and he lavished his treasure with a profiise liberality 
 in preparing to welcome this Hindoo beauty in a manner worthy 
 of his princely munificence. 
 
 On the morning named by Jaya for her entrance into Delhi, a 
 numerous cavalcade was seen approaching the city gate. It con- 
 sisted of a number of litters, in which women are accustomed to 
 travel in Eastern countries, covered with cloth draperies that 
 entirely concealed from view those within. The litters were ac- 
 companied by about a hundred unarmed followers on foot. Each 
 litter was borne on the shoulders of four men, and they severally 
 passed through the gate, that which headed the cavalcade being 
 honoured with a military salute from the guard. As had been 
 previously agreed, they were borne towards the prison in which 
 Ray Ruttun Sein was confined. This was a large house sur- 
 rounded by a court and enclosed by a high wall. Into this 
 court the litters were carried, and, when all were set down, the 
 gates were closed and fastened on the outside. 
 
 There was a strong guard within the court. No sooner were 
 the litters deposited, that the curtains of the principal one were 
 drawn aside, and Jaya stepped out. Giving a signal, an armed 
 warrior started from every litter ; then, putting arms into the hands 
 of their bearers, they attacked the . guard, whom in a few minutes 
 they slew to a man. Jeipal, who headed the party, now rushed 
 into the building, cutting down all who opposed his progress until 
 he reached the apartment of Ray Ruttun Sein, the locality of 
 which had been previously indicated to him by the Rajah, in 
 reply to his daughter's last communication. Ray Ruttun Sein 
 was already prepared for the rescue. Hearing the noise caused 
 by his son-in-law's approach, he opened the door of his chamber, 
 and met him at the threshold. Jaya followed close behind, and 
 springing into her father's arms embraced him passionately. 
 
 " Come," said Jeipal, " we have not a moment to lose. The 
 alarm will be given, and a detachment sent to reinforce the guard 
 outside the gate. Horses await us at a village a coss from the
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. j6t 
 
 city. We must fly for our lives, for the pursuit will no doubt 
 be hot." 
 
 " We have done our best, my father," said Jaya : " if wc should 
 be pursued and overtaken, we have the Rajpoot's courage and 
 can die. I wear a dagger which will remove us both beyond the 
 reach of pursuit, should we be likely to fall into the enemy's 
 hands. Let us begone," 
 
 They moved hastily from the house into the court-yard. The 
 sentinels who stood outside the prison wall, hearing the bustle 
 within, had unbarred the portal to ascertain the cause. Jeipal 
 and his followers immediately despatched them, and made good 
 their exit. Getting again into their litters, they proceeded to the 
 city gate, which they passed through without the slightest sus- 
 picion. The work of slaughter had been so speedily executed 
 that n© alarm was raised, the house in which it had taken place 
 being a solitary building in the outskirts of the city. 
 
 As soon as they reached the village where their horses were 
 waiting for them, they instantly mounted, and were off with the 
 speed of the wind. Their flight was soon discovered, but not 
 before they were some miles on their way. When Alla-ood-Deei\ 
 was infomied how he had been outwitted, his rage knew no bounds. 
 He raved like a madman, bit his own flesh with fury, and swore 
 an oath of deep and implacable revenge. His violence brought 
 on a disorder which threw him on a sick bed. He raved per- 
 petually, and such was the intensity of his excitement that he 
 became perfectly frantic. He ordered several citizens to be put 
 to death whom he chose to suspect, without the slightest ground, 
 had been privy to the escape of the fugitives. There were no 
 bounds to his rage, and his violence increased to such a degree 
 that he was obliged to be tied down to his bed. 
 
 Meanwhile the Rajah and his followers pursued their flight, 
 and halted only for a few minutes until they fancied themselves 
 beyond the reach of pursuit. They had ridden forty coss by noon 
 the following day. Their horses being somewhat lamed by the 
 severity of their journey, they were obliged to rest for the day; but 
 
 INDIA. M
 
 i«a THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 
 
 fancying there was no longer anything to apprehend from pursuit, 
 they fairly congratulated themselves upon their escape. 
 
 The village at which they halted was situated on the slope of a 
 hill ; and in order to guard against an enemy, Jeipal commanded 
 his little band of twenty armed followers to keep alternate watch, 
 half of them only sleeping at a time, in case of surprise. 
 
 There was a bright moonlight. About two hours before mid- 
 night one of Jeipal's scouts apprised him of the approach of pur- 
 suers ; — he had calculated their number at about eighty men. 
 These would no doubt be followed by speedy reinforcements. 
 There was no time for hesitation. Jeipal placed six of his followers 
 in ambush at the base of the hill, ^\dth orders to keep the enemy in 
 check, while Jaya and her father pursued their flight with all speed. 
 They again mounted their horses, somewhat recruited by their 
 day's rest and good feeding, and were off towards Chittore with 
 the swiftness of thought. Jeipal, having seen them safe on their 
 journey, descended the hill ^^^th the rest of his little band, com- 
 manding them to follow within reach of a signal. As he arrived at 
 the ambuscade where his six men, armed vdth bows and arrows, 
 were concealed, he perceived the enemy in full career across the 
 plain. The moon was in mid heaven, pouring her soft and tender 
 light upon the advancing squadron. As it neared the bottom of 
 the mountain, Jeipal discharged an arrow and shot the leader 
 dead. Another and another followed ; and before the party could 
 imagine that they were assailed by a secret foe, ten of them wert 
 either killed or disabled. This checked their career ; they halted, 
 and retreated a couple of hundred yards beyond the ambush. 
 
 After a short pause they advanced at full gallop, and reached 
 the base of the hill in a few minutes, with the loss of another ten 
 men, killed or desperately wounded. Jeipal now gave the signal, 
 and was joined by the rest of his followers, who, rushing down the 
 steep, sent their arrows among the Mahomedans at the moment 
 they were dismounting from their horses. They were thrown into 
 confusion at this fatal discharge, and, before they had recovered 
 from their consternation, were attacked sword in hand by the 
 furious Rajpoots. The slaughter was terrible. Encumbered by
 
 THE RAJPOOT MARRIAGE. 163 
 
 their horses they could not act in unison, and their leader being 
 killed, they were dispirited. In a few minutes half of them were 
 slain ; and the rest, remounting their steeds, galloped back across 
 the plain, where they were soon joined by a second party from 
 Delhi, which came to a halt beyond bowshot from the mountain. 
 
 Jeipal in this short but fierce conflict, had lost only four fol- 
 lowers. He had received a severe sabre-cut upon the forehead, 
 round which he bound his turban tightly to stanch the blood, and 
 mounting his horse, he and his faithful Rajpoots followed the 
 fugitives. He overtook them early on the following day. They 
 had now ten hours' start of their pursuers, who had halted during 
 the night on the plain. 
 
 The Rajah, with his daughter, her husband, and their com- 
 panions, eventually reached the hilly country, Avhere they for the 
 present determined to remain concealed until the heat of pursuit 
 should subside. Shortly after, they heard of the death of Alla-ood- 
 Deen, who never recovered from the attack consequent upon Ray 
 Ruttun Sein's flight. His death restored Jeipal and his lovely 
 bride to their security : the Rajah returned to Chittore, where he 
 was welcomed with rejoicings, and the rest of his life was passed 
 among his children and grand-children in freedom and in joy. 
 
 M 2
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Ileg. 716 (a.d. 1316). — On the death of Alla-ood-Dcen, his youngest son, 
 Oomm- Chan, was raised to the tlirone by Mulhk Kafoor. This prince was 
 deposed and imprisoned after a reign of tliree months and some days. 
 
 Heg. 717 {13 1 7). — Moobarik Khiljy ascended the throne on the seventh 
 Mohurrum. 
 
 Heg. 721 (1321). — The king was cut off by a conspiracy, and Mullik 
 Khoosrow, the cliief conspirator, raised to the tlirone ; but he was put to death 
 after a reign of only five months by Glieias-ood-Deen Toghluk ; and with his 
 death terminated the second Tartar dynasty of the kings of Delhi. 
 
 Heg. 721 (1321). — Gheias-ood-Deen Toghluk was the first of the ^hird 
 Tartar dynasty of the kings of Delhi. When he ascended the throne he 
 regulated the affairs of the government in a manner so satisfactory as to obtain 
 genera! esteem. He declared his eldest son heir-apparent, with the titk- of 
 Aluf Chan, and conferred upon him the ensign of royalty. 
 
 Heg. 722 (1322). — This year the new citadel at Delhi was completed, to 
 which the king gave the name of Toghlukabad. 
 
 Heg. 724 (1323). — The king^ after having appointed his son, Aluf Chan, 
 governor of Delhi, marched in person towai'ds Bengal to stop the oppressions 
 committed by the Rajahs of Luknowty and Soonargam. On his return to- 
 waids his capital the king was met at Afghanpoor by his son and the nobles of 
 his court, who advanced to congratulate him upon his safe return. Here Aluf 
 Chan had erected, in the short space of three days, a temporary wooden 
 building for his father's reception. When the entertainment was over, the 
 king ordered his equipage to proceed. Everybody hastened out and stood 
 ready to accompany him, when the roof of the building suddenly fell, and the 
 king and five of his attendants were crushed to death beneath the ruins. 
 
 Heg. 725 (1325). — Aluf Chan ascended the throne by the title of Mahomed 
 Toghluk. He was the most eloquent and accomplished prince of his time ; 
 and his letters, both in Arabic and Persian, display so much elegance, good 
 taste, and good sense, that the most able secretaries of later times study them 
 with admiration. 
 
 Heg. 727 (1327). — The king caused a copper coin to be struck, issued it at 
 an imaginary value, and, by a royal decree, caused it to pass current throughout
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Hindobtan. This was the cause of great distress, the bankers and m. 
 alone beJ-jefiting at the expense of the sovereign and his people. 
 
 H^- 73S (1337)- — Mahomed Toghluk conceived the idea of conquer^ 
 China, and sent an army of one hundred thousand horse into Ncpaul and tlst 
 countries on either side of the Himalaya mountains. The expedition utterly 
 failed, nearly the whole army having perished in those mountainous regions. 
 
 Ileg. 741 (1340). — The king obtained possession of the strong fort of 
 Kondhana, the modern Singur, near Poma, which he starved into a surrender. 
 He removed his family to Dowlutabad, which he resolved to make his capital, 
 leaving the noble metropolis of Delhi a resort for bats and a dwelling-place foi 
 the beasts of the desert. 
 
 Heg. 742 (1 341). — Mahomed Toghluk laid heavy contributions upon Dow- 
 lutabad and the neighbouring provinces, which caused an insurrection ; but his 
 numerous and well-appointed army soon reduced the insurgents to their former 
 state of slavery. This year the king nearly fell a victim to a pestilence which 
 broke out in his camp with such violence that it swept off a great part of his 
 army. Having lost one of his teeth, he ordered it to be buried with much 
 ceremony at Beer, and caused a magnificent tomb to be raised over it, which 
 still remains a monument of his vanity and folly. 
 
 Heg. 743 (1342). — Mullik Heidur, chief of the Ghoorkas, slew Tartar Chan, 
 the viceroy of Lahore, 
 
 Heg. 744 (1344). — The confederate Hindoos seized the country occupied by 
 the Mahomedans in the Deccan and expelled them, so that within a few months 
 Mahomed had no possessions in that quarter except Dowlutabad. 
 
 Heg. 747 (1346). — The king promoted several persons in the meanest 
 stations to the rank of nobles, which occasioned the hereditary Omrahs to 
 revolt ; but their leader Azeez, upon the king's troops advancing to attack 
 him, becoming panic-stricken, fell from his horse, was made prisoner, and 
 suffered a cruel death. His forces were totally routed. 
 
 Heg. 748 (1347). — Dowlutabad fell into the hands of the insurgents, who 
 put the king's officers to death and divided the public treasure. 
 
 Heg. 752(1351). — Mahomed Toghluk, having eaten to excess of fish, was 
 seized with fever of which he died, after a tyrannical reign of twenty-seven 
 years, and was succeeded by his cousin Feroze Toghluk. 
 
 Heg. 755 (1354). — The king built the city of Ferozabad, adjoining that of 
 Delhi, and on the following year dug a canal forty-eight coss in length. He 
 likewise constructed another canal between the hills of Mundvy and Surmore, 
 from the Jumna, into which he conducted seven minor streams, which all 
 nniting ran in one channel through Hansy, and from thence to Raiseen, where 
 he built a strong fort, which he called Hissar Feroza. 
 
 Heg. 762 (1360). — The king sent the celebrated image of Nowshaba to 
 Mecca, to be thrown upon the road, that it might be trodden under foot by the 
 pilgrims.
 
 I66 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 776 (1375). — The celebrated Mujahid Shah ascended the throne of the 
 'Deccan. In his fourteenth year, in a struggle with his father's spice-beaier, 
 >Ioobarik, a man of great strength, he threw him and broke his neck. 
 
 Heg. 779 (1378). — He was assassinated after a reign of not quite three years. 
 Hajy Mahomed Kandahary states that he received his death-wound from the 
 •on of Moobarik the spice-bearer. 
 
 Heg. 781 (1379). — Kurgoo, the Zemindar of Kutehr, invited to his house 
 Syud Mahomed, governor of Budaoon, together with his two brothers, and 
 basely murdered them. Enraged at this treachery, Feroze Toghluk instantly 
 marched and took severe vengeance on the associates and kindred of the 
 Zemindar, putting them to the sword, and levelling their houses with the 
 ground. The murderer made his escape to the mountains of Camaoon, and 
 was protected by the Rajahs of those parts. Feroze ordered a detachment of 
 his army against them, and nearly twenty thousand of those mountaineers were 
 made prisoners and condemned to slavery ; but Kurgoo contrived to elude the 
 vigilance of the king's general. 
 
 Heg. 790(1388). — Feroze Toghluk died, after having reached the almovj 
 patriarchal age of ninety years.
 
 ^&^ Ulaljomciraji Uimr0!tr» 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MUJAHID, the son of Mahomed Shah, sovereign of the 
 Deccan, was remarkable for his courage and amazing 
 strength of body. He was tall of stature, prodigiously muscular, 
 yet, in dignity of demeanour and general majesty of aspect, sur- 
 passed all the princes of his race. In valour and fortitude he stood 
 without a rival. Such was his strength of constitution, that he 
 was affected by change neither of climate nor of atmosphere : 
 whether the season were wet or dry, hot or cold, healthy or sickly, 
 it was alike to him. He spoke the Toorky language fluently, 
 which he acquired from his favourite companions, who were for 
 the most part either Toorks or Persians. He was fond of archery 
 from his infancy, and all his conversation tended to military sub- 
 jects. His whole soul was absorbed by deeds of arms, or of 
 hazard in some shape. When a boy, he was the terror of his 
 youthful associates. Whoever offended him was sure to feel the 
 weight of his resentment, and such was his known determination, 
 that they were afraid to unite against him, lest his single arm 
 should prove sufficient to break their confederacy and punish them 
 all ; for he was repelled by no sense of danger from resenting 
 injury. Still he was a beneficent youth, and beloved by them 
 generally. There was nothing he would not do for them, so long 
 as they did not wantonly thwart his projects, which were some- 
 times of a nature to be discouraged; but even when he engaged 
 in any mischievous adventure, it was more from exuberance of
 
 i68 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD, 
 
 animal spirits, and that love of enterprise which he could not sup- 
 press, than from depravity of heart. 
 
 One day calling his companions together, he proposed that they 
 should go and hunt the tiger in some distant forest, where that 
 animal was reported to abound. But a difficulty arose : many of 
 them had no horses, and it was necessary that they should be sup- 
 plied in order to accomplish the wishes of their young prince. 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 *' We must go," said he, " at any rate, and you shall be supplied 
 with necessaries." 
 
 " But how," asked one, "are we to get them without money?" 
 
 " While there is a rupee in my father's treasury, as I live you 
 shall not go without horses. We will hunt the tiger at all 
 hazards." 
 
 None of his comrades could imagine how Mujahid intended to 
 introduce himself into his father's treasury, which was protected 
 by a strong door, secured by three huge bolts. These appeared 
 much more than sufficient to baffle the efforts of a youth of four- 
 teen, for that was precisely the age of Mujahid at this period. 
 But he laughed at the idea of impediments to any enterprise dear 
 to his heart ; and, calling together the youths by whom he was 
 generally attended, he desired they would accompany him to the 
 treasury. It was guarded by a sentinel ; but the prince, pretend- 
 ing to send him upon a message of some importance, promised to 
 take his place until he should return. 
 
 No sooner had the soldier quitted his post, than Mujahid, 
 rushing against the door which contained his father's treasuie, 
 shook it from the hinges, and opened a way to the means of pro- 
 curing horses for his contemplated excursion. Taking several 
 bags of gold, he divided the money among his youthful followers. 
 They immediately repaired to a mart, and supplied themselves 
 with steeds, and other necessaries for the chase. 
 
 When the sentinel returned he found his post abandoned, and 
 that he had been duped by the young prince. Knowing the 
 penalty of having quitted his charge, he immediately left the spot 
 and fled beyond the reach of danger. The treasurer, discovering
 
 THE MA HOMED AN NIMROD. 169 
 
 the door broken down, and no sentinel on the spot was amazed ; 
 but he had no difficulty in tracing the act to the king's son. The 
 habits of Mujahid were too well known for suspicion to be 
 diverted from him ; and, when taxed by the treasurer with the 
 theft, he did not deny it. 
 
 The sovereign, enraged at the vicious propensity of his son, 
 sent his spice-bearer, Moobarik, to summon the prince before 
 him. Upon entering his father's presence, perceiving by the king's 
 manner that he had been made acquainted with the robbery of 
 his treasury, Mujahid, when asked if he knew why he had been 
 summoned, remained silent. " What could induce you," said the 
 sovereign, " to commit such a trespass against the laws, and such 
 an act of violence against the authority of your father ? What do 
 you deserve ?" 
 
 Mujahid still continued silent, feeling justification impossible. 
 
 "Boy," said the father, sternly, "it is necessary that such a 
 violation of the common laws of honesty as you have so wantonly 
 committed should be punished with due severity, in order that my 
 people may see I do not palliate or overlook the delinquencies of 
 my son. What expectations can you hope to excite of your honour 
 and justice when raised to this throne, of which you are the right- 
 ful heir, if you indulge thus in the vulgarest of all vulgar crimes ? 
 Such tendencies are unbecoming a prince, and must be subdued." 
 
 The king now ordered Mujahid to be stripped, and taking a 
 whip, scourged him severely with his own hand until the shoulders 
 of the youthful offender were covered with blood. The prince 
 was then ordered to be imprisoned in the palace. 
 
 This galled him much more severely than the stripes he had 
 received ; they were only the infliction of a moment ; but the 
 restraints of imprisonment were vexatious to his haughty spirit. 
 He was mortified, too, that his projected expedition had been 
 frustrated, attributing his punishment to the officiousness of Moo- 
 barik, against whom from this time he harboured a deep and 
 implacable enmity. 
 
 His mother visited him in his confinement, and he complained 
 to her with great bitterness of Moobarik,
 
 '70 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 " Nay, my son," said the queen, " the servant wc'^ AOt in fault ; 
 he only did his duty. He did not acquaint your father with your 
 act of youthful indiscretion, it was the treasurer." 
 
 - " But if the spice-bearer had informed me that the affair at the 
 treasury had been discovered, I could have evaded my father's 
 wrath, made you my intercessor, and thus have escaped the visi- 
 tation of his anger." 
 
 "That will subside, my son. I can still be your intercessor." 
 
 " But the punishment has been inflicted, — my back still bears 
 the marks of stripes ; and, though these may be effaced from my 
 skin, they will never be obliterated from my memory. Those 
 are wrongs, mother, which can neither be forgotten nor 
 forgiven." 
 
 " Would you harbour a spirit of revenge against your father ?" 
 
 " No ; but against the man who has caused that father to visit 
 me with bodily chastisement my hatred will be inextinguishable." 
 
 " Nay, this is the working of unsubdued passion, — the feeling 
 will abate, Your cool judgment may convince you that Moobarik 
 has not been in fault, and you will be pacified." 
 
 Mujahid m?de no reply ; but the lowering of his brow sufficiently 
 indicated the deep-settled hostility that had already stirred the 
 slumbering passions of his soul, — the fiercest and least tractable. 
 
 At the mother's intercession, after a week's confinement, the 
 prince was set at liberty ; and, at her especial request, he forebore 
 to exhibit any marks of enmity against the spice-bearer; but he 
 wore a mask upon his countenance that disguised the rage working 
 at his heart. He summoned his youthful playfellows around him, 
 and seemed occupied by the amusements common to his age ; 
 but, with the eye of a lynx, he only watched for an opportunity to 
 signalize his revenge upon the man who had aroused his hatred. 
 This he sought to accomplish without involving himself in an act 
 of legal criminality. The son of Moobarik was one of his comrades, 
 and to him he showed marks of unusual attention, in order to 
 blind him to the one dark purpose with which his own young 
 heart was teeming. 
 
 It happened that a discussion took place one day among the
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 171 
 
 boys with whom the prince associated, upon the respective merits 
 of difterent wrestlers who had distinguished themselves in the 
 arena upon occasions when public sports had been exhibited 
 before the kinsr. In the course of the conversation the son of 
 Moobarik mentioned his father to be so strong and skilful in the 
 manly exercise of wrestling, that he had several times thrown 
 some celebrated players. 
 
 "Ay," said Mujahid; "I should like to have a trial of skill 
 with that sturdy father of yours. Do you think he would fear to 
 encounter the strength of a boy of fourteen ?" 
 
 " Nay," said Musaood Chan, with a good-natured laugh, " the 
 king's spice-bearer could have no objection, I should fancy, in 
 proving his strength to the king's son." 
 
 " It will be an unequal game — youth against manhood ; yet I 
 think I could make the spice-bearer turn his eyes to the sun 
 without measuring my own length beside him." 
 
 This freak of the prince excited the merriment of his juvenile 
 friends ; they expected to see their daring companion somewhat 
 roughly handled in the grasp of Moobarik, who was generally 
 reported a person of great strength; having been raised by 
 the sovereign to his present dignity on account of his feats in 
 arms. 
 
 Mujahid threw himself in the spice-bearer's way, and after 
 offering a courteous greeting, said, with a jocular air, 
 
 "Your son tells me you have so sinewy an arm that few 
 champions in the wrestling-ground would be able to stand against 
 you, if you were to condescend to encounter them in a trial of 
 strength and skill." 
 
 " My son says indeed true. I have on more than one occasion 
 thrown the strongest men in the king's army, and my arm has 
 yet lost none of its vigour." 
 
 " Are you willing to put it to the test?" 
 
 " I can find no worthy rival among my equals, and I should 
 scarcely degrade my nobility by entering the arena against the 
 hirelings of the king's pleasures." 
 
 " You need not fear to find a competitor of your own rank ;
 
 178 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMkOD, 
 
 for I am vviriing to try my powers and skill against yours, if you 
 do not doubt your chances of victory. '' 
 
 "I can have no objection to a friendly contest with my master's 
 son ; but he must not be vexed if he should happen to be some 
 what roughly handled, for wrestling is no lady's game." 
 
 " I am prepared for what may ensue Though but a boy, you 
 must remember that I broke open the door of my father's 
 treasury; you will not, therefore, have a mere boy's strength 
 to try." 
 
 On the following day it was agreed that the prince and the 
 spice-bearer should wrestle before the king. The preliminaries 
 were settled, the spectators assembled, and the competitors entered 
 the hall of the palace, which was strewed with sand in order to 
 break the force of their falls. Both the champions appeared 
 naked to the waist. The tall, muscular frame of Moobarik con- 
 trasted singularly with the round smooth limbs of his youthful 
 adversary, who was exceedingly robust, and the size of his sinews 
 hidden under a round surface of healthy flesh. At the first onset, 
 Moobarik grasped his antagonist by the shoulders, raised him in 
 the air, and was about to cast him on the floor, when the prince 
 adroitly passed his leg behind the spice-bearer's knee, and threw 
 him on his back in an instant, falling upon him with considerable 
 force. The spectators were astonished ; but there being a dispute 
 as to the fairness of the fall, both parties consented to another 
 struggle. This was not much longer than the last. After a little 
 shifting to make good his intended grasp, Mujahid seized his 
 opponent suddenly by the waistband of his short trousers, and, 
 raising him in his anns, flung him on the ground with such force 
 that he lay senseless. He had pitched upon his head ; and, upon 
 examination it was found that his neck was broken.
 
 «73 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE death of Moobarik afforded a subject of conversation for 
 several weeks at the court of Mujahid's father. It was a 
 matter of extreme surprise that a mere boy should have so easily 
 foiled a man of such great strength, and have so rapidly and fatallj 
 concluded the contest. He was from this time looked upon as a 
 prodigy. Musaood Chan, however, from that moment enter- 
 tained an implacable hatred against the destroyer of his father. 
 He dared not openly manifest his hostility; nevertheless, it burned 
 within him with a smothered, indeed, but still with an unextin- 
 guishable, flame. He heard the general applause bestowed upon 
 the courage and prowess of the prince with silent yet fierce repug- 
 nance, which he was obliged to mask under the exterior of a 
 suavity that seemed like self-mockery. 
 
 Mujahid treated him with kindness and with confidence; and 
 being of an open unsuspicious temper he did not for a moment 
 harbour a thought of Musaood's sinister feelings towards him ; 
 as the former neither expresssd anger, nor evinced the slightest 
 symptom of resentment at his father's death. 
 
 As Mujahid advanced towards manhood, he became the terror 
 of the neighbouring potentates. He commanded his fathers 
 armies, and invariably led them to conquest. The son of Moo- 
 barik witnessed his success with envy, and the fires of vengeance 
 still smouldered in his bosom. He had a beautiful sister, whose 
 detestation of the prince was no less ardent than his own ; she 
 could not wipe from her memory the cause of her father's death ; 
 but she, as well as her brother, dissembled her resentment, and 
 received Mujahid courteously when they happened to meet. 
 
 The prince had conceived a passion for her, which he shortly 
 avowed, and she encouraged. Hoping that it would forward the 
 opportunity of revenge so ardently desired by her brother and 
 herself, she pretended a reciprocal attachment, and listened to hi?, 
 unholy declarations of love, at first without any expressions of 
 shame, and finally, with apparent pleasure. His passions were
 
 174 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD, 
 
 roused ; but under various pretences, the artful siren delayed 
 gratifying those passions which her seeming acquiescence had 
 provoked. 
 
 Musaood was pleased at seeing his intended victim gradually 
 drawing towards the toil which he was preparing for him. The 
 prince never for a moment imagined that the children of Moobarik 
 attached to him the guilt of having purposely destroyed their 
 father. Taking it for granted that they looked upon his death as 
 a mere accident, he did not conceive that there could be cause for 
 the slightest hostility towards him, and the daughter's apparent 
 affection confirmed this impression. His love for the sister caused 
 him to repose the greatest confidence in the brother. The latter 
 became privy to all the prince's designs, encouraging Mujahid's 
 favourable feelings towards him by aftecting a fervent zeal for his 
 welfare. 
 
 Mujahid's love for the wily daughter of his father's late spice- 
 bearer at length knew no bounds, and she was obliged to adopt all 
 the resources of her woman's art to keep him from proceeding to 
 extremities. She tantalized him with promises, which she evaded 
 fulfilling by the most ingenious artifices. It was found at length 
 necessary to withdraw him for a while from the object of his 
 passion, in order to rescue her from a dilemma which was daily be- 
 coming more difficult to elude. 
 
 Musaood, therefore, proposed a few days' excursion into the 
 woods to enjoy the pleasures of the chase, of which he knew the 
 prince to be so fond that even his love of woman yielded to his 
 love of killing lions and tigers. It might, too, chance that in the 
 forest an opportunity would arise so long and so ardently sought. 
 The prince accordingly repaired to the jungles, accompanied by 
 his young friends, and for several days with his single ann 
 destroyed many of its fiercest inhabitants. 
 
 One morning he was infonned that an enormous elephant was in 
 the neighbourhood. The huge beast was said to have committed 
 dreadful ravages, and to have killed so great a number of people 
 who had ventured near its place of usual resort, that travellers had 
 discontinued passing by that road for fear of encountering the
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 175 
 
 savage animal. Nothing could be more gratifying to Mujahid than 
 the idea of encountering an enemy which every one else shunned ; 
 and without loss of time he proceeded to the spot where the 
 elephant was reported to have taicen up its abode. It turned ou( 
 to be a solitary male which had been expelled from the herd ; and 
 when this happens, it always renders these animals extremely 
 savage. 
 
 Mujahid found the colossal beast in a part of the wood where 
 the growth was more than usually scanty, tearing down with 
 eager voracity the tender branches of the young trees which were 
 growing around him. At the sight of intruders it stopped, raised 
 its trunk, gave a shrill cry, and approached them at a rapid pace. 
 The prince deliberately placed an arrow on the string of his bow, 
 pulled it to the head, and sent it on its way with the force of a 
 shot from an arquebuse. The steel head struck the elephant on 
 the breast, and the whole shaft was buried in the animal's body; 
 the very feather being dyed with its blood. The gigantic creature 
 dropped instantly dead. 
 
 All were amazed at the force with which the arrow had been 
 sped. Mujahid ordered the elephant to be opened, that he might 
 see the direction which his arrow had taken. This was accordingly 
 done, and it was found that the shaft had passed directly through 
 the animal's heart. The murmurs of astonishment rose into a 
 great burst of acclamation ; but in proportion to the triumph of 
 the King's son the envy of Musaood increased. 
 
 Among the persons present upon the occasion was a Tartar. 
 This man was deeply in love with the late spice-bearer's daughter, 
 who returned his affection ; he therefore felt that hatred towards 
 the King's son which ardent lovers generally entertain towards 
 their rivals. The hot blood of this Tartar was roused at the 
 thought of the object of his pure and fervent attachment being 
 pursued with sentiments of unholy love ; and he was prepared to 
 execute any desperate act by which he might rid the world of a 
 wicked prince, and himself of a dangerous rival. Musaood was 
 well aware of his feelings, and likewise of tfcs reckless fierceness 
 of his character; and, thinking that now was a favourable time to
 
 '^ THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 attack the prince's life when he was reposing in full security upon 
 the fidelity of his friends, he persuaded Tuglook Beg to attempt 
 the assassination of Mujahid during the chase on the day after the 
 latter had destroyed the elephant. 
 
 During the morning the sport had been great ; and Mujahid, 
 stopping upon the bank of a small rivulet, quitted his horse in 
 order to bathe his temples in the cool refreshing waters. He gave 
 the reins into the hands of an Afghan, named Mahmood, who held 
 them while his master alighted. At this moment the Tartar ap- 
 proached unperceived through the hollows and broken ground 
 along the banks of the stream, and was in the act of charging the 
 prince at full speed. The cry of some of his attendants exciting 
 Mujahid's attention, he raised his head, and observed Tuglook Beg 
 advancing towards him at a gallop, evidently with the design of 
 cutting him down, his sword being bared and raised as in the act 
 to strike. The prince immediately seized the reins of his horse, 
 and making a sign to Mahmood Afghan to interpose himself be- 
 twbct his master and the assassin, sprang into his saddle. The 
 faithful armour-bearer advanced to meet Tuglook Beg; but his 
 steed rearing, owing to the inequality of the ground, it fell, and 
 gave the adversary a momentary advantage. It was a critical 
 moment ; the Tartar came on with the speed of a whirlwind ; but 
 Mujahid, being now prepared to encounter him upon equal terms, 
 spurred his horse forward, Tuglook Beg, however, made a stroke 
 at the prince, before the latter had time to put himself fully upon 
 his guard ; the blow fell upon his turban, which, being folded very 
 thick and hard, in order to protect his head from the ardent rays 
 of the sun, the sword did not penetrate, though it struck the turban 
 from his brow, and left it exposed to the chance of a more suc- 
 cessful blow. Mujahid, however, having recovered his position, 
 rose in his saddle, and bringing his heavy cimeter upon the Tartar's 
 shoulder, clove him to the chine, and he instantly fell dead from 
 his horse. Having replaced the faithful Ivlahmood Afghan upon 
 his charger, the prince joined his friends amid shouts and acclama- 
 tions, in which Musaood Chan was the foremost to join. 
 The fate of Tuglook Beg only embittered the hatred of his
 
 THE MAHOMETAN NIMROD. 277 
 
 friend towards his destroyer, and strengthened his determination 
 of vengeance. His sister received the news of her lover's fate 
 with that tearless grief which bespeaks intense suffering, or the 
 counteraction of a purpose stronger than the sorrow to which it 
 becomes subservient. 
 
 Fortunately at this time the prince was called to oppose 
 Krishin Ray, Rajah of Bejanuggur, who laid claim to some 
 forts belonging to Mujahid's father, which saved the object 
 of his passion from coming to an open rupture with him, ere 
 she and her brother found means to revenge their parent's 
 death by accomplishing the destruction of him who had been 
 the cause of it. 
 
 As the prince advanced, Krishin Ray retreated before him. 
 Afraid to meet so formidable a foe in the field, but hoping to cut 
 him oif by stratagem, the Rajah fled from place to place, and was 
 pursued by Mujahid for weeks without coming to an engagement. 
 At length the good fortune of the latter prevailed. The health of 
 Krishin Ray and his family became affected by the pestilential air 
 of the woodS; and they were warned by their physicians to quit 
 them. But the Rajah, hoping that his enemy, unaccustomed to 
 the deleterious atmosphere, would fall an easy prey, resolved to 
 continue where he was, until he saw his expectations realized upon 
 the foe. Mujahid's constitution, however, was proof against the 
 pestilential air by which his enemy thought he would be destroyed ; 
 and Krishin Ray was himself the first to suffer ; several of liis 
 family died, and he became himself so ill that he was obliged to 
 retreat by secret paths towards Bejanuggur. Mujahid despatched 
 an anoy in pursuit of him, while he laid waste the country. 
 Having broken down many temples of the idolaters, and destro3'cd 
 numerous idols, he returned flushed with victory to his father's 
 capital. 
 
 It now appeared to Musaood and his sister that their hated 
 enemy was destined to triumph in all his undertakings, and 
 that they were doomed to suffer the utmost severity of di.s- 
 appointment. 
 
 It was nevertheless their policy still to dissemble; and the artful 
 
 INDIA. ti
 
 ty8 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 siren received her detested lover with gracious smiles of welcome, 
 that were like oil poured upon the flame of his passions, which 
 hitherto had been only tantalized, and now raged with redoubled 
 fury. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IN order to avoid the importunities of Mujahid, the sister of 
 Musaood was obliged to feign illness, that she might not give 
 him umbrage by opposition. The chase was again her brother's 
 resource to withdraw his royal friend's thoughts from the indulgence 
 of more criminal passions. 
 
 In a mountain some few miles from the capital was a cave, re- 
 ported to be the haunt of wild beasts. This information had been 
 privately conveyed to Musaood, and he determined to take ad- 
 vantage of the prince's ignorance of this fact to accomplish the 
 long-cherished purpose of his soul. Mujahid made no objection 
 to another expedition into the forests in search of the lion and 
 tiger, since that was a pastime perfectly congenial with his adven- 
 turous spirit. With him excitement was a vital principle. The 
 announcement of peril was music to his ear. He was accompanied 
 by his favourite, Mahmood Afghan, who always attended him in 
 his excursions, whether of war or of pleasure. He went as usual 
 armed with his bow, a well-filled quiver, and his cimeter, which 
 had been tried in many a rough encounter with foes, in whose 
 blood it had been frequently steeped. 
 
 Musaood had lost nothing of the prince's confidence : so ad- 
 mirably did he mask his feelings, that not a creature save his sister 
 knew, and no one suspected his deadly hostility to the son of 
 Mahomed Shah. Nothing could exceed his apparent 2eal in 
 seeking to administer to the enjoyments of the prince, who was a 
 perfect slave to his pleasures ; and Mujahid acknowledged the 
 professed fidelity of the late spice-bearer's son with especial marks 
 of favour. 
 
 Upon approaching the forest where the pleasures of the chase
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 179 
 
 tvere to be enjoyed, the skies began to lower, and to threaten one 
 of those violent elemental conflicts occasionally witnessed within 
 the tropics, and of which even the Alpine storms in Europe can 
 afford but a faint conception. It soon became too evident that a 
 hurricane was to be expected, and the only thing which now 
 occupied the thoughts of the party was where they should find 
 shelter. 
 
 The prince was at this time separated from his followers, being 
 accompanied 'only by Mahmood, Musaood, and a menial attendant 
 This had been purposely contrived by his foe, to whom, however, 
 not the slightest suspicion of any sinister design attached. 
 
 The sun soon became veiled by a succession of coppery clouds 
 which rapidly overspread the sky, opening at intervals in different 
 places, and emitting momentary flashes of lightning. The rain 
 quickly began to fall upon the broad smooth leaves of the trees ; 
 the birds flew to the foliage, and chirped dolefully. Snakes and 
 lizards crawled from beneath the bushes, where they had been 
 basking in the genial sunshine, and crept into the tufts of high 
 grass with which the jungle abounded. A gloom passed over the 
 earth, like the sudden setting in of night, and the distant bowlings 
 of the forest community gave a strong feature of dreariness to the 
 scene. 
 
 The storm was every moment increasing, and the party were 
 by this time anxious to obtain a shelter. They had advanced 
 considerably up the hill. Musaood had taken care to be informed 
 of the exact locality of the cavern, to which he led the way, the 
 prince and his companions following. The ascent was rather 
 steep, and, from there being no regular pathway, not easy to climb. 
 Their anxiety to escape from the pelting of the storm enabled 
 them to overcome all impediments. 
 
 They had fastened their horses under trees in a small glen at 
 the hill's base, as the ascent was too steep to render the attempt 
 on horseback practicable. After about a quarter of an hour's toil 
 they reached a natural recess in the mountain, within which was 
 the entrance to a cave, no doubt the same that had been described 
 to Musaood. The opening was low, and so narrow that not more
 
 i8d The mahomrdan nimkod. 
 
 than one person could squeeze in at a time. It was about fout 
 feet high, and scarcely more than two wide. Within the darkness 
 was so intense, that the eye could not penetrate to the extremity. 
 Scarcely was the party safely sheltered, when the hurricane poured 
 down with prodigious fury. The rain fell in a confluent stream, 
 forming little cataracts, which gushed over the slope of the hill 
 between the rocks, adding to the rush and roar of the tempest. 
 The entire horizon appeared every moment illumined, and the 
 lightning streamed like a fiery deluge upon the earth. There was 
 the least imaginable pause between the flashes. A large tree in 
 front of the cavern was struck, the trunk severed from the root, 
 as if cleft with an axe by an omnipotent arm, and it fell with an 
 awful crash down the side of the mountain. The thunder rolled 
 with scarcely an interval between the peals, and occasionally burst 
 with such deafening crashes, that the ear could not endure the 
 sound without a positive sensation of pain. Snakes and other 
 reptiles were washed from their coverts, and crawled for shelter 
 into the cavern, as if awed by the fierce convulsion of the elements. 
 They exhibited no signs of reluctance at the propinquity of human 
 beings, of whom they have ar ^nstmctive fear, but appeared as if 
 they had laid aside their natura; instincts under the terrors by 
 which they were assailed The savage cobra closed its hood and 
 slunk into a corner of the cavern, as if glad to hide itself from the 
 terrors of the storm. After a while, the lightning flashed less 
 continuously ; there were longer intervals between the peals of 
 thunder; it became gradually more remote, and at length the sun 
 glimmered through the clouds, which, rapidly dissipating before 
 its beams, left a beautiful expanse of clear blue sky above 
 the hill. 
 
 The gloom of the cavern had now considerably abated, though 
 nothing was distinctly perceptible at the extremity. 
 
 As soon as the deafening noise of the tempest had subsided, a 
 singular sound was heard at the end of the cave, like the loud 
 purring of a cat. Mahmood and the attendant groping their way 
 towards it, shortly returned with something in their arms, whicl\ 
 when exposed to the light, proved to be the cubs of a lioness.
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. i8i 
 
 The ferocious parents were evidently abroad, but this discovery 
 was not at all calculated to beget an assurance of safety. 
 
 " We had better," said the attendant, " immediately quit our 
 retreat, or we shall be visited by the parents of these young savages 
 before we have time to escape. They will, no doubt, return now 
 the storm has abated, and we may look for their presence every 
 moment." 
 
 " Well !" said the prince, " you don't fear to encounter a lion ? 
 This will be somewhat reversing the sport ; instead of seeking the 
 game, it will seek us ; but, upon second thoughts, it will not do 
 to let them come upon us before we are prepared ; we shall be 
 cramped in this cave ; we must have room to ply our arms. It 
 the lions make good their entrance before we have secured our 
 retreat, we shall stand but a sorry chance for our lives." 
 
 " Suppose," said Musaood, '' I go and climb yonder tree, which 
 commands a view of the entire side of the hill. Should anything 
 approach I can give you a signal ; you will have plenty of time to 
 mount the rock just beyond where we now stand, and from that 
 elevation, with the prince's unerring aim, the lions will prove but 
 contemptible foes." 
 
 "Nay," said Mahmood Afghan, "I hke not this mode of getting 
 hedged by dangers ; let us quit the cavern at once, and encounter 
 our enemies in an open field, if they come upon us. I need not 
 tell you that these animals are always the more furious when 
 disturbed near the lair in which they have deposited their cubs." 
 
 " That's just what I should desire," said Mujahid; " the more 
 furious the quarry the greater the sport. You say, however, well, 
 Mahmood ; let us go and meet these tawny strangers." 
 
 During the raging of the tempest the prince and Mahmood had 
 flung down their bows and quivers upon the floor of the cave ; 
 when the attendant took them up in obedience to the command 
 of his master it was found that the cubs had been amusing them- 
 selves with the anows, and had snapped every reed except two. 
 This was a mortifying discovery. It was now held advisable that 
 .he party should not seek an encounter with the lions, as they 
 were no longer in a condition to face them, but make the best of
 
 x8a THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 their way down the hill, obtain a fresh supply of arrows, and 
 return on the following day. 
 
 By this time Musaood had quitted the cavern, and climbed a 
 lofty tree not far off, as he had proposed. The prince, with his 
 armour-bearer Mahmood, and the menial attendant, were about to 
 quit their place of refuge, when a huge lion appeared advancing 
 stealthily towards its den, which they had occupied in its ab- 
 sence. 
 
 " Hah !" said Mujahid, " we have no chance now, I see, but to 
 struggle at a disadvantage. The foe has taken us by surprise, and 
 we must use the best means of defence which such an emergency 
 has left us. He shall have a warning, however, that we are not to 
 be intruded upon with impunity." 
 
 The prince placed an arrow on the string of his bow, and dis- 
 charged it as the lion advanced. It struck him in the shoulder, 
 the steel head fixing in the bone. The wounded beast gave a 
 savage howl, tore the shaft from its body, and bounded forward 
 with a roar that made the mountains ring. 
 
 Meanwhile the party had rolled a huge fragment of rock, which 
 lay within the cave, before the entrance, and thus excluded the 
 ferocious visitor. Reaching the opening, the lion paused a moment, 
 repeated its roar, and sprang against the stone. This vibrated 
 with the animal's weight. It repeated its spring, but the prince 
 placing his back against the piece of rock, managed by his im- 
 mense strength to prevent the lion from forcing an entrance. The 
 savage creature put its paws upon the stone, and thrust its nose 
 into the aperture left between the top of the fragment and that of 
 the entrance. Sensible that enemies had invaded the sanctuary of 
 its home, its howls were terrific, its eyes glared with portentous 
 rage, and it repeatedly rushed against the opposing barrier, in 
 order to force a passage to its offspring. All its attempts, how- 
 ever, were foiled. 
 
 " Mahmood," said the prince, as the enraged beast was standing 
 with its paws upon the stone, licking its rapacious jaws, now 
 covered with foam, " take thy bow, and discharge the arrow which 
 remains into the lion's eye. You are so close that you may make
 
 rnS MAHOMEDAN N/2lTirfO 183 
 
 sure of your aim, and if well taken the steel will enter its brain, 
 and give us a safe delivery." 
 
 Mahmood took the bow ; his hand trembled with anxiety, not 
 with fear. He was visible to the lion, which glared upon him with 
 an expression of terrific fury. Its eye was open to the utmost 
 extension. Mahmood placed the barb of his arrow within a few 
 inches from the rolling orb, and hurriedly drew the string. At the 
 instant it escaped from his finger the lion raised its head, and 
 received the shaft through its tongue. Maddened by the pain, it 
 bounded a moment from the opposing rock, and rolled upon its 
 back, snapping the reed with its teeth, and returning with renewed 
 fury to its former position. The foam now dropping from its 
 mouth was dyed with blood. It protruded the lacerated tongue, 
 &om which the gore copiously dripped, part of the reed still 
 sticking in the wound. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE situation of the prince, his friend, and attendant, was be- 
 coming every moment more critical. The lion seemed deter- 
 mined to remain stationary at the entrance of the cave, and to admit 
 it was certain death. Mujahid, however, resolved to remove the 
 stone from the cavern's mouth and take the chance of a conflict 
 with the ferocious beast. He and Mahmood had their swords ; 
 one of them therefore might escape, though, from the darkness 
 and lowness of their place of refuge, the chances were doubtful. 
 
 Musaood had at first secured his safety in the tree, from which 
 he descended while the foe was eagerly engaged with those who 
 nad so unwittingly intruded into its den, and succeeded in making 
 his escape. Having reached the bottom of the hill, he mounted 
 his horse and galloped off" in search of the prince's followers, 
 hoping that rhe slayer of his father would now meet with deserved 
 retribution. 
 
 As Mujahid was about to remove the fragment of rock from 
 the cave's mouth, Mahmood proposed that they should try to
 
 i84 777^ MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 Strangle the lion with a strong silken cord with which he had 
 come provided ; a sort of lasso, which he was very skilful in throw- 
 ing, and with which he was in the habit of securing smaller game. 
 
 " No," said the prince, " that were an ignoble and cowardly 
 mode of destroying the regal beast ; I have a kindred feeling 
 which repels me from such a dog-like method of killing a lion. 
 Besides, the thing is impracticable, you will never be able to get 
 it over the creature's head." 
 
 " I will try, however," said Mahmood, " since I have no kindred 
 feeling about the matter, and would as soon strangle a lion as a cat." 
 
 Mujahid, in spite of his prejudices against casting a stigma upon 
 regality by attempting to inflict a degrading death upon the 
 " monarch of the woods," yielded at length to the expostulations 
 of his armour-bearer, who attempted to cast the noose of the lasso 
 over the lion's head. The aperture above the stone was so small 
 that he had not room to fix it ; and while he was making the at- 
 tempt, with a fearful growl the enraged animal seized the rope be- 
 tween its teeth, sprang from the opening, drew it from JMahmood's 
 grasp, and left liim without a resource in his peril. 
 
 " Well," said the prince, " there is now no alternative between 
 trying which will be the longest starving, ourselves or our brindled 
 guard, or allowing it to enter and boldly trying our strength 
 agamst it. We are three to one, and that is fearful odds." 
 
 " But the darkness and disadvantage of this low cave reduces 
 our chances and increases those of the enemy." 
 
 "We must then bring him to battle on the outside of his den." 
 
 " Alas ! before we can squeeze ourselves through this narrow 
 entrance, the savage will have made good its spring, and the first 
 stroke of its paw is certain death." 
 
 The attendant now proposed as a last resource that they should 
 strangle the cubs and throw them out to the lion. This was in- 
 deed a desperate experiment, but Mujahid consented that it should 
 be tried. The attendant accordingly unwound the turban from 
 his forehead and twisted it tightly in the form of a rope. The 
 cubs were found asleep in a corner of the cave ; but though so 
 yoimii. their strength was such as to render the process of strau-
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 185 
 
 gulation a thing of some difficulty, A noose was made in the 
 centre of the twisted turban, and being passed over the cub's head, 
 was pulled at either end by Mahmood Afghan and the attendant, 
 the prince meanwhile applying his vast strength to keep the lion 
 from displacing the stone from the entrance. 
 
 Both the cubs being at length strangled, were forced through 
 the aperture, and flung before the enraged parent. The moment 
 it saw its offspring, the Hon quitted the stone, stood over the cubs, 
 and begun to purr, licking their heads for a few moments with the 
 greatest tenderness. After a while, seeing they did not move, it 
 turned them over gently with its paw, erected its ears, and looked 
 at them intently for an instant ; and then, as of a sudden becoming 
 conscious that they were dead, erected its head, raised its nose in 
 the air, and howled with a piteous expression of agony. The 
 wounded tongue hung over its jaws, still suffused with gore, and 
 tears filled the eyes of the noble beast as it again bent down its 
 head to gaze upon the work of destruction. 
 
 Its emotion soon subsided, and was succeeded by the most 
 frightful rage. It dashed against the barrier with increasing fury, 
 and its roarings were continued without intermission. It now 
 required the whole strength of the prince and his two companions 
 to keep the stone from giving way under the furious assaults of the 
 lion. After a while, as if exhausted with its energies, it retreated 
 a few feet from the aperture, lay down upon its belly beside the 
 dead cubs, raised its head towards the skies, as if invoking a 
 silent curse upon the destroyers of its offspring, and sent its voice 
 among the surrounding echoes, which multiplied it into one fear- 
 ful and prolonged evocation of blended fury and distress. In a 
 short time it started to its feet, waved its tail, and looking forward, 
 ceased its horrible roar. Upon turning his eyes toward the spot, 
 the prince perceived another lion advancing at a rapid trot in the 
 direction of the cavern. 
 
 " This," cried Mahmood, " is no doubt the mother of the cubs, 
 and we have, if possible, more to dread fram her fury than from 
 that of the male savage. We have now no chance of our lives 
 but by continuing where we are until the lions shall retire. They
 
 »86 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROh., 
 
 will probably drag the cubs away after the first burst of grief for 
 the loss of their young shall have subsided." 
 
 "I like not this imprisonment," said the prince, "and shall 
 only forbear forcing a retreat a short time longer. I am deter- 
 mined to try my chance of escape while my strength remains un 
 abated." 
 
 Mahmood, however, prevailed upon his impatient and daring 
 master to await the issue of the second beast's approach, before 
 he rashly determined upon an encounter, which it was now appre- 
 hended must infallibly terminate in the death of each of them. 
 
 The lioness advanced eagerly, with her ears erected ; and 
 having reached her cubs, she turned them over for a moment with 
 her paw, and, instantly perceiving they were dead, rushed towards 
 a tree that grew near, sprang upon the trunk, and, stripping off 
 the bark, began to tear it in pieces with the greatest violence. 
 She now united her roars with those of her consort ; then fixing 
 her eyes upon the den in which she had deposited her young, 
 bounded with foaming jaws towards the opening. Infuriated 
 by opposition, she darted to and fro before the cave, springing at 
 the trees, fixing her claws in the bark, and stripping their trunks 
 bare to the root. Again she assaulted the stone which prevented 
 entrance into her lair. 
 
 While she was exhibiting these paroxysms of exasperation, the 
 male, probably exhausted by its previous exertions, lay doA\m be- 
 side the cubs, placed its two fore-paws upon their bodies, and^ 
 resting its head upon the ground bet\veen them, kept up a low an^ 
 continuous moan. The lioness, at length fatigued with her un- 
 availing efforts to retaliate upon the destroyers of her young, 
 walked deliberately up to the lion, and after again turning over the 
 bodies of her cubs, she seized one of them in her mouth, and 
 plunged with it into the thicket. The lion took up the body of 
 the other in the same way, and immediately followed her. After a 
 while the party in the cavern heard their roarings in the distance, 
 and began now to think seriously of making good their retreat. 
 
 "Our danger," said the attendant, "is by no means at an end. 
 Those animals are never-failing in their instincts j they know that
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMRGD. 187 
 
 the destroyers of their offspring are in this cave, and they will not 
 quit the neighbourhood until they have had their revenge. Their 
 vigilance is not to be evaded." 
 
 " But," said Mahmood, " did you not hear their roarings in the 
 distance ?" 
 
 " Nevertheless they will return immediately upon their steps. I 
 have seen much of the habits of these ferocious creatures. They 
 have disposed of the bodies of their dead cubs under some shrub 
 or tuft of grass, and covered them with dried leaves ; they are now 
 on the watch for us ; it is utterly impossible we should escape." 
 
 *' They shall feel the sharpness of this sword's point, however, 
 if they do come upon us," said the prince, rising, and stretching 
 his cramped limbs. " Our chance will be greater beneath the 
 fair light of the sky, with plenty of iightmg room, than cooped 
 up in this dismal den, where we can't distinguish a lion from a 
 
 shadow." 
 
 " It is clear," said Mahmood, " there is no safety for us here j 
 we have, consequently, only a choice of evils, and it will therefore 
 be the greater prudence to choose the least. The lions are now 
 out of sight, and in spite of their cunning, we may be fortunate 
 enough to baffle it." 
 
 "Then we had better descend the mountain," said the at- 
 tendant, " in the opposite direction to that taken by our watchful 
 enemies, else we must give up every chance of evading them." 
 
 " But there is no practicable path," said the prince ; "and evep 
 if there were, our chances are much the same, whatever road we 
 take, provided what thou sayest of the vigilance of these creatures 
 be true." 
 
 The stone was now rolled from the cave's mouth, and the prince 
 pushed his body through the narrow opening, followed by his 
 armour-bearer and the attendant. No enemies were visible, and 
 their roarings had by this time ceased to echo among the hills. 
 Approaching the tree into which Musaood had climbed upon the 
 first apprehension of danger, Mujahid looked up, and called upon 
 his friend to descend ; but perceiving that he was not among the 
 branches, the prince said with a smile.
 
 i88 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 "Musaood has tried the speed of his heels. If the lions 
 should have crossed his path and wreaked their vengeance upon 
 him, they will probably be satisfied ; but if he has escaped, there 
 is at least an equal chance for us. Grasp your swords and follow 
 me." 
 
 " I have no doubt," said Mahmood, " he has made good his 
 retreat ; I saw him descend the tree while the first lion was en- 
 gaged in assaulting the rocky fragment which we had laid across 
 the entrance of the cavern. He's a wary youth that Musaood : I 
 know of no one who likes so little to get into danger, or who 
 knows so well how to extricate himself out of it." 
 
 "That is not the lion's instinct," said the prince, smiling. 
 
 " Nay, but it is part of the wise man's discretion." 
 
 " Then, Mahmood, thy master is a fool ; for he never was yet 
 remarkable for his prudence in getting out of a scrape." 
 
 " But valour," replied Mahmood, with a respectful salaam, " is 
 not an attribute of wisdom ; that, therefore, would be prudent in 
 the brave man, which would be folly in the wise," 
 
 " Then we bold fools, Mahmood, may be justified in cutting the 
 throats of lions for the preservation of our own lives ; while your 
 sages, in conformity with their characters of wise men, would, as 
 a matter of course, bow their heads under the lion's paw, and die 
 like philosophers." 
 
 Mahmood smiled, made another salaam, and remained silent, 
 as if assenting to the truth of his master's observation. 
 
 The party proceeded slowly onward, on account of the narrow- 
 ness and ruggedness of the path, which would not admit of two 
 going abreast. In a short time, however, they had overcome the 
 most difficult part of the descent without interruption from their 
 dreaded foes. They were already congratulating themselves with 
 having escaped, when a cry from the attendant, who was a few 
 yards behind his master and Mahmood, caused the two latter to 
 stop and turn. The cause of that cry of alarm was soon explained. 
 The two lions were seen making their way down the side of the 
 mountain at a very rapid rate, their ears depressed, the hair on 
 their tails erected, and exhibiting other signs of fury not to be
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. •»''9 
 
 mistaken. It was impossible to avoid them as the path was still 
 narrow and rugged. 
 
 The prince, drawing his cimeter^ placed himself in front of his 
 two companions, and undauntedly awaited the threatened onset. 
 The male lion was several paces in advance of the lioness, and, 
 bounding fonvard, stopped suddenly within about thirty feet of its 
 intended victim, and crouching a moment crawled a few yards 
 upon its belly, then rising with a quick motion sprang with the 
 rapidity of lightning towards Mujahid. He had been prepared 
 for this ; and when he saw the body of the angry beast propelled 
 towards him, as if urged by that Almighty force which wings the 
 thunderbolt, he leaped actively on one side, raised his weapon, 
 and urging it with all his force as the foe descended, struck it in 
 the mouth with the full impulse of an arm that, by a similar stroke, 
 had frequently severed the head of a buffalo. The sword crashed 
 through the jaws, forced its way into the throat, opening so 
 hideous a wound that the lion fell forward, writhed a few moments, 
 and died. 
 
 The lioness, which had crouched several paces behind while her 
 consort was making its spring, seeing the issue of the contest, 
 leaped forward with a roar, and coming up to the prince before he 
 had recovered his guard, placed its paws upon his breast, and at- 
 tempted to gripe him by the throat. Mujahid grasped the savage 
 by the windpipe, and keeping it at arm's length, prevented it from 
 effecting its purpose ; but it still kept its claws fixed in his breast, 
 which it lacerated in a frightful manner, and at length seizing one 
 of his hands crushed it dreadfully. Still he managed to keep its 
 head from his body. 
 
 Mahmood, seeing the peril of his master, struck the ferocious 
 beast with all his might upon the back with his sword, which was 
 very keen and heavy. This assault induced the lioness to relin- 
 quish her hold and turn upon Mahmood ; but her spine had been 
 so injured from the stroke of the cimeter, that she was unable to 
 spring. A second blow from Mahmood's ponderous weapon upoa 
 the skull, instantly seconded by another from that of the attendant, 
 soon brought her to the ground, when she was easily dispatclied ,
 
 190 THE MAHOMEDAN NtMROD. 
 
 though not before she had left terrible marks of her fury upon the 
 prince's body, who, reeking with his blood, stood gazing at his 
 vanquished foes. The effusion was great, and the lacerations so 
 extensive as to exhibit a fearful aspect of fatality. 
 
 Mahmood, being well skilled in the virtues of herbs, gathered 
 some from the hill-side, and bruising them formed a styptic which 
 he applied to the wound, and arrested the heemorrhage. The 
 prince declared himself able to proceed, the application of the 
 lierbs having somewhat subdued the irritation of his wounds. He 
 was obliged to bare his body to the waist; and in order to prevent 
 the sun from incommoding him, Mahmood and the attendant 
 skinned one of the lions, and fixing the hide upon four bamboos, 
 formed a sort of canopy under which Mujahid managed to creep 
 down the remainder of the descent. 
 
 When they reached the bottom of the hill, they found their 
 horses securely tied to the trees, as they had left them. Mujahid 
 felt himself unable to proceed : the attendant, therefore, rode oft 
 in pursuit of some of the followers, whom he happily found at no 
 great distance pursuing the pleasures of the chase. Among these 
 was Musaood, who had refrained from mentioning the state ot 
 peril in which he had left his companions on the hill. Upon 
 hearing that the prince had been wounded in the breast by his 
 tawny foe, he concluded that the consummation of his revenge was 
 nigh. A calm smile passed over his features ; but he warily sup- 
 pressed the feelings which rose with the warmth of a kindly emotion 
 in his bosom, and elated his heart. Affecting to commiserate 
 the condition of Mujahid, he proceeded, accompanied by several 
 of his followers, to the spot where the prince lay in a state of 
 great suffering stretched upon the lion's skin ; but, smiling as 
 Musaood approached, he said — 
 
 '* You had a better instinct than I, Musaood. Had I taken to 
 the tree I might have escaped these scratches, which will keep me 
 from the chase for some weeks, and, what is worse, from thy sister; 
 but the cause of so long an absence will furnish my excuse." 
 
 " There's no pleasure, pnnce, without its pain, and in your 
 sufferings all your friends participate."
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 191 
 
 " Then they are great fools. It is enough that one should suffer 
 in a matter of this kind, and you ought all to rejoice that you have 
 had the good luck to escape. These are the little contingencies 
 of lion-hunting, but I shall not be the worse for it when my 
 scratches are healed." 
 
 A litter was now made, in which the prince was laid, and carried 
 slowly towards his father's capital. The faithful Mahmood walked 
 by his side, anticipating all his wants, and attending upon him with 
 affectionate earnestness. In spite of the styptic, his wounds bled 
 so copiously that when he reached the end of his journey he was 
 in a state of extreme exhaustion. For some weeks he was in con- 
 siderable danger, which spread a general gloom through the 
 city, but, after a severe struggle, hit; constitution triumphed, and 
 he at length completely recovered. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHEN Mujahid had recovered from his wounds he renewed 
 his addresses to the sister of Musaood, who, finding that 
 she could no longer delay the gratification of the jDrince's desires 
 without a direct breach of promise, determined to bring the thing 
 to an immediate issue. She had for some time encouraged his pro- 
 posals of dishonourable love ; she had done this for a sinister pur- 
 pose, and was still loth to give up the hope of seeing the slayer of 
 her father meet with that retribution in this world which she thoucht 
 he deserved. She cared not how her own reputation was 
 endangered so long as she could see the man punished by whom 
 she had been deprived of a parent she tenderly loved. She did 
 not forget, too, that his hand was stained with the blood of her 
 lover, and although this was done in self-defence, it nevertheless 
 did not abate in her judgment the odiousness of the deed. 
 
 Toghluk Beg had been long attached to her, and it was this 
 attachment which urged him to risk his life against the valour and 
 personal strength of a man notorious througla his father's kingdom
 
 i^J THE MAHOMEDAN NiMROD. 
 
 f(H the invincible force of his arm. The daughter of MoobaHl? 
 could not forgive the double injury which she had received at the 
 hands of the king's son, and in order the more securely to effect 
 the purpose so long entertained by herself and her brother she 
 finally came to the resolution of admitting Mujahid to the enjoy- 
 ment which he sought, indifferent to consequences, save the 
 accomplishment of her revenge. 
 
 When next she saw her brother, " Musaood," she said, " the 
 enemy seems to have a charmed life ; no sword can reach him, . 
 and he is even proof against the claws of the lion." 
 
 " My sister, his time will come yet." 
 
 " So you have said for years, and yet he is abroad in his might, 
 and the world appears to fall prostrate before him. How is this 
 colossus to be upheaved ?" 
 
 " By constant dripping water will wear down the mountain to a 
 level with the valley." 
 
 " But we cannot wait so slow a process, brother. Can you 
 suggest no means of a speedier vengeance ?" 
 
 " He loves you, my sister." 
 
 " Well, that won't kill him." 
 
 " No ] but you return his love with hatred, and that may." 
 
 " Hatred is of itself passive." 
 
 " Still it may instigate the hand to urge the dagger home." 
 
 " Then I must yield to his passions, an act against which my 
 soul recoils." 
 
 *' His death were worth any sacrifice. Had I a thousand repu- 
 tations I would relinquish them all to see him dead before me." 
 
 " You sanction, then, my infamy ?" 
 
 " It will be neutralised by the event. If it bring retribution 
 V.pon the head of our father's destroyer it will be a filial obU 
 ion, and do you everlasting honour." 
 
 " The sacrifice shall be made, and may the desired issue be 
 speedy ! It is, however, a hard thing to dissemble in the presence 
 of an object whom the heart loathes ; how shall I endure the 
 caresses of such a man ?" 
 
 " As sick men take bitters, for the cure they bring. It will heal
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NlMROD. 193 
 
 tliy hatred, sister, by removing the cause of it, and will not that 
 be your sufficient reward ?" 
 
 " It is like making one pass to paradise through a path of fire." 
 
 " Remember that when the paradise is gained you have all joy 
 and no more suffering." 
 
 " What part do you intend to play in this sanguinary drama?" 
 
 " Do you but make the opportunity, and I am ready to drive 
 the dagger home to his heart. I must, however, do it where even 
 the winds cannot murmur an alarm." 
 
 " Agreed ; I will sacrifice my fair fame to the retribution we 
 owe to a father's spirit." 
 
 Thus was the foul conspiracy against the prince's life hatched 
 by the brother and sister. They brought over to their purposes 
 two disaffected nobles, who entertained an inveterate animosity 
 against Mujahid because he had punished their cowardict with 
 disgrace during his expedition against Krishin Raj. 
 
 The prince, unsuspicious of treachery, visited the siren who had 
 won his affections with a full conviction that his passion was 
 returned with equal warmth. He provided for her a splendid 
 mansion and a numerous retinue, devoting most of his time to 
 the society of his enchantress. She feigned affection so artfiill)i 
 that he imagined himself the idol of her heart ; but Mahmood, 
 who suspected her sincerity, though he had no suspicion of Iici 
 treachery, frequently told him that he was deceived. This rather 
 begot a coldness in the prince towards his faithful armour-bearer ; 
 the latter, however, did not abate an atom of his attachment 
 towards his master, whom he looked upon as the dupe of an 
 artful woman, and whose interests he watched with a vigilance 
 which fully showed that they were no less dear to him than ],ir 
 own. 
 
 '* Fair one !" said Mujahid one day, "am I deceived in thin' ing 
 uiat you love me ?" 
 
 " Why this question ?" 
 
 " Nay, that is no answer." 
 
 " But surely I am justified in seeking to know why my affection 
 
 INDIA. O
 
 194 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 is suspected. Tell me candidly, have I ever given you just cause 
 to suspect it?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then you wrong me by your suspicions. Some enemy has 
 attempted to poison your mind, and it is but fitting I should know 
 who that enemy is." 
 
 "You can have no enemy, my sweet flower, except the blights; 
 and they will not pass over thee yet." 
 
 " Sooner than you may dream of, if I am to be doubted by one 
 for whom I have sacrificed so much. Remember that the flower is 
 prostrated by the sun when his scorching rays fall on it, as well as 
 by the tempest ; so love may be as completely subverted by sus- 
 picion as by the fiercest hatred : it cannot exist but in an atmo- 
 sphere of mutual confidence." 
 
 Convinced by her specious manner that he was beloved, whatever 
 suspicions might have previously existed soon passed from his mind. 
 
 About this time his father dying, he succeeded to the sovereignty 
 of the Deccan. His accession was solemnized with great re- 
 joicings ; but the secret conspiracy against his life was not quelled, 
 only retarded, by this event. He lavished immense sums of money 
 upon the favourite who was secretly plotting his destruction, nor 
 would he listen to a suspicion breathed against the fervency of her 
 attachment, of which the faithful armour-bearer still ventured occa- 
 tionally to express his doubts. 
 
 Musaood's duplicity was now redoubled. His apparent zeal for 
 the interests of the king blinded all but Mahmood, whose distrust 
 became excited in proportion as the apparent earnestness of the 
 other for his master's welfare was displayed. It happened that he 
 one day overheard part of a conversation which passed between 
 the brother and sister, that confirmed his suspicions of intended 
 mischief; and he resolved to acquaint the king, in defiance of the 
 royal interdiction not to introduce the subject again in his presence. 
 
 Appearing one morning before the sovereign, he said, "A good 
 subject must not fear to incur the displeasure of a kind master, 
 where danger is likely to accrue to the one, which the other, by a 
 timely warning, may avert."
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. ic,5 
 
 " What means this, Mahmood ? Annoy me not with any of 
 your silly suspicions ; you know I have forbidden you to speak of 
 them in my presence." 
 
 " I know it ; but my love for a good king and generous master 
 will not allow me to be silent when I have reason to apprehend 
 that danger is near him." 
 
 " What grounds have you for so supposing ?" 
 
 " Musaood and his sister are frequently closeted, and I over 
 heard the former say to the latter, but a few days ago, ' Our re- 
 venge has been long bafifled, but the consummation draws near.' " 
 
 " Why should you apply this to me, when I have secured the 
 affection of the one and the fidelity of the other ?" 
 
 " Professedly you have, but kings are not always the best skilled 
 in reading human hearts ; they too frequently mistake the mask 
 for the countenance." 
 
 The king smiled. " Mahmood," said he, " how long have you 
 been a decipherer of the unwritten records of human character ? 
 Do you not think that you may chance to be mistaken as vv^ell as 
 other men?" 
 
 " Beyond question : but no one can deny the policy of being 
 upon one's guard, even in a state of the greatest apparent secu- 
 rity. The profoundest calms are frequently the precursors of 
 violent tempests ; and what is seen in the natural may likewise 
 occur in the moral world." 
 
 " But would you have me live in a state of perpetual suspicion, 
 with that void in my heart arising from the absence of confidence, 
 which is one of the most grievous penalties of our existence ?" 
 
 " No ; but I would not have you too rashly trust, and, indeed, 
 never until you have well weighed the characters whom you admit 
 to your friendship," 
 
 •' And have I not done so ? Have you not won my confidence ? 
 and have I ever found reason to regret having bestowed it upon you?" 
 
 Mahmood was rather staggered; he felt the truth of the ob- 
 servation ; but still determined not to allow the king to remain 
 blind to his insecurity, without striving to put him upon his guard, 
 he said, " Men must be judged by their actions." 
 
 o 2
 
 igS The MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 
 
 " Precisely so ; and Musaood has never given me cause to 
 suspect his fidelity." 
 
 " What has he ever done to render him an object of trust ?" 
 
 " Nothing, at all events, that should render him an object of 
 suspicion." 
 
 " My sovereign, I do not suspect upon slight grounds ; I have 
 seen fi-equent and secret meetings ; I have heard ambiguous words 
 uttered, and am willing to risk my head upon the truth of what 
 I assert, that your royal safety is not secure from secret machina- 
 tions. Having put my royal master upon his guard, my duty is 
 performed." 
 
 Mujahid Shah, though he had the strongest reliance on the in- 
 tegrity of his armour-bearer, and a sincere esteem for him, yet 
 looked upon his suspicions as chimerical, and took no measures to 
 counteract any plots that might at that moment be ripening against 
 his life. His passion for the sister of Musaood was unabated, and 
 he treated her with distinguished regard. 
 
 He one day declared to her his intention of passing the night 
 in the house she occupied, at which she expressed herself extremely 
 flattered, and immediately communicated the information to 
 Musaood. 
 
 " My brother," said she, "the king sleeps here to-night, and the 
 opportunity so long sought after may be now embraced." 
 
 " What do you propose ?" 
 
 ** That Mujahid should die this night by your dagger." 
 
 " If you will show me that his death can be safely accomplished, 
 I am ready to become the instrument." 
 
 " Go and seek your two confederates, and introduce them into 
 the house ; I will let you into the king's chamber at midnight ; — 
 the work is then easy." 
 
 "But does not his armour-bearer always sleep in an adjoining 
 apartment ?" 
 
 " Yes : he, however, will be easily disposed of I will prepare 
 his evening meal : he shall be deaf to the cries of his master when 
 ?hey come," 
 
 " Could you not contrive to remove his arms?"
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 197 
 
 " What will signify arms to a man who has not the power of 
 using them ? Do you quail, Musaood ? Don't be shamed by a 
 woman ! Such an opportuity does not occur every day. Embrace 
 i<", or let it pass, as you please : upon your choice depends whethei 
 we ever again meet as brother and sister. You need not be told 
 that kindred foes are the most deadly." 
 
 This peremptory insinuation immediately decided Musaood. 
 It was arranged that he should repair to the house, with his two 
 confederates, so soon as night closed in. 
 
 In the evening Mahmood's curry had been prepared for him ; 
 but labouring under an excited state of mind, and having a pre- 
 sentiment of evil which he could not repress, he did not taste 
 it. Flinging himself upon his couch, he lay feverish and rest- 
 less. 
 
 About two hours after he had retired to rest, hearing a noise in 
 the adjoining room, he rose and listened. He could distinguish 
 voices in a whisper, but not a word reached his ear. There was 
 sufficient light to discern the dim outlines of three persons at the 
 entrance to the royal chamber. He was not kept long in suspense, 
 for after the lapse of a few moments a female figure opened the 
 door, and the three men entered. Mahmood, drawing his sword, 
 instantly followed. Upon reaching the door of his master's room, 
 he saw Musaood and his two companions armed with daggers. 
 The king was lying asleep upon his couch, and the treacherous 
 confederate of the assassins standing, with a lamp in her hand, 
 near his head. 
 
 Without an instant's pause Mahmood cried, in a loud voice, 
 " Rise, Mujahid Shah ! you are beset by murderers 1" at the same 
 time cutting down one of the assassins. The sovereign, awakened 
 by the noise, started from his bed, just as Musaood was about to 
 plunge a dagger into his body. The blow had already descended, 
 but Mujahid caught it upon his arm, receiving a severe wound. 
 He instantly laid hold of the assassin by the wrist, wrenched the 
 dagger from his feeble grasp, and buried it in his heart. 
 
 The third confederate, seeing the fate of his two companions, 
 rushed from the chamber. Mahmood, seized his lasso, which was
 
 iqs the mahomedan nimrod. 
 
 at hand, pursued the criminal, and casting the cord round his legs 
 as he quitted the house, tripped him up, and brought him to the 
 ground. He was immediately secured, and conducted before the 
 king. 
 
 "At whose instigation did you attempt the life of your 
 sovereign ?" 
 
 *' My ov/n !" answered the noble firmly. 
 
 "What was your object?" 
 \ " To get rid of a tyraut !" 
 
 "Was that woman your accomplice?" asked Mujahid Shah, 
 pointing to the siren who had placed his life in jeopardy. 
 
 " No ; she is innocent." 
 
 The wretched woman, who had stood pale and abashed before 
 the royal presence, immediately recovered her composure, and 
 affected to repel the suspicion with indignation. 
 
 The accomplice of her brother did not betray her. He would 
 reveal nothing, but made up his mind to die with that sullen 
 resolution so frequently Avitnessed at public executions. The 
 king, summoning two attendants, ordered them to take the traitor 
 into an adjoining apartment and strangle him. This was accord- 
 ingly done, and his body thrown from the window. By the time 
 Mujahid Shah quitted the house in the morning, nothing but a 
 skeleton was seen upon the spot where the strangled corpse had 
 been cast the preceding night. 
 
 The sovereign having so narrowly escaped, was reminded by 
 the faithful Mahmood of the policy of withdrawing himself from 
 the woman who had obtained so entire an ascendancy over his 
 heart ; but such was his infatuation that he could not believe her 
 guilty. She had been pronounced innocent by the confederate of 
 her brother ; and so complete was her empire over him, that he 
 would not allow himself to suppose her implicated in the con- 
 spiracy against him. She affected to curse her brother's memory, 
 not only for the murderous act of lifting his arm against his 
 sovereign's life, but likewise for involving her in the suspicion of 
 having been an accomplice in so wicked a design. 
 *' Make your mind easy," said the king, in reply to her assevera-
 
 THE MAHOMEDAN NIMROD. 199 
 
 tions of inocence ; " my confidence in your affection is not to be 
 shaken. A woman does not hate out of mere wantonness the man 
 to whom she has reHnquished all that is most prized by her sex. 
 Great sacrifices are only made for those we love, and for me you 
 have made the greatest," 
 
 " I fear I have an enemy in your armour-bearer," said the artful 
 siren ; " and cannot but feel apprehensive that he will eventually 
 tear me from your heart ; this fear is a perpetual sting in my 
 bosom. I have never given him any cause of offence ; and yet 
 he continually pours the poison of prejudice into the king's ear." 
 
 Mujahid Shah was silent. He could not but feel the force of 
 this observation, and it struck him that Mahmood's prejudice was 
 altogether unjustifiable. In spite of his late gallantry in defend- 
 ing his master's life, the king was angered at the hostility which 
 his armour-bearer evidently entertained against the object of the 
 royal affections, and he treated him with unusual coldness, some- 
 times even with asperity, 
 
 Within a few months after the late attack upon the life of 
 Mujahid Shah, Musaood's sister had completely steeped his heart 
 in the infatuation of dotage. He felt perfectly secure of her 
 affection ; and finding that all suspicion had subsided, she deter- 
 mined to perpetrate with her own hand the deed of blood which 
 her late brother had failed to accomplish. 
 
 One night, when she retired to rest with the sovereign, con- 
 cealing a dagger under the bedclothes, she awaited with tremulous 
 impatience to see her victim lulled in slumber. His senses 
 gradually faded into unconsciousness, and he slept heavily. She 
 drew the weapon slowly from its concealment. Her hand trembled. 
 She cautiously bared the king's chest, and, compressing her lips, 
 plunged into his heart the instrument of death. Mujahid started 
 from his sleep ; he saw the night-dress of his murderess stained 
 «vdth blood, and her hand still upon the dagger. FeeUng his 
 senses fast failing, he grasped her by the throat, held her a few 
 moments in his death-grip, flung her with his last effort of expir- 
 ing strength upon the floor, strangled, and fell dead beside her.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 790 (A.D. 13S8). — Feroze Toghluk was succeeded on the throne of 
 Delhi by his grandson, Gheias-ood-Dcen Toghluk, who was murdered, after a 
 reign of only five months and a few days. 
 
 Heg. 791 (1389). — The late king's murderers raised to the throne Aboo 
 Bukr, another gi-andson of Feroze Toghluk ; he was deposed after a reign 
 of eighteen months, and succeeded by his uncle, Nasir-ood-Deen Mahomed 
 Toghluk. 
 
 Heg. 793 (1390). — Mahomed, after having silenced all opposition, entered 
 Delhi in the month Rumzan, and ascending the throne, assumed the title of 
 Nasir-ood-Deen Mahomed. 
 
 Heg. 794(1391). — The Vizier Islam Chan was condemned to death for a 
 projected revolt, on the evidence of his own nephew Hajoo, a Plindoo, who 
 swore falsely against him, in consequence, as it is supposed, of his uncle having 
 embraced the faith of Islam. 
 
 Heg. 795. (1392). — The king was taken ill of a fever, at Mahomedabad, 
 and became delirious for some days. 
 
 Heg. 797 (1394). — Mahomed, having suffered a relapse of the fever, died, after 
 a short reign of six years, and was succeeded by his son Humayoon, who took the 
 name of Secunder, but was suddenly cut off, forty-five days after his accession 
 to the throne, when Mahmood, a younger son of Nasir-ood-Deen Mahomed 
 succeeded him. 
 
 Heg. 799 (1396). — Gheias-ood-Deen ascended his father's throne in the 
 Deccan, and, having given offence to one of the household slaves, was dethroned 
 by him, and confined in the fort of Sagur. 
 
 Heg. 800 (1397). — Shums-ood-Deen, brother to the deposed king, was 
 raised to the throne, but was dethroned after a reign of five months and sevey 
 days ; the slave being put to death by Gheias-ood-Deen, whom he had deposed 
 and blinded. 
 
 Heg. 801 (1398). — Ameer Timoor, commonly called Tamerlane, arrived 
 on the banks of the Indus, took the town of Bhutnere, ravaged the whole country, 
 and having, in different encounters with the idolaters, made nearly a hundred 
 thousand prisoners, ordered them all to be massacred. The conqueror made 
 himself master of Delhi, where he caused himself to be proclaimed Emperor,
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. aoi 
 
 and the usual titles to be read in his name in all the mosques. The fine 
 mosque, built by Feroze Toghluk, on the stones ol which he had inscribed the 
 history of his reign, was so much admired by Timoor, that he carried the sam« 
 architects and masons from Delhi to Sarmakand to build one there upon a 
 similar plan. Having given up the city to a general pillage, and committed a 
 dreadful massacre of the inhabitants, the conqueror commenced his retreat to 
 his own country. After a while, those who had quitted the city returned to 
 their homes, aud Delhi in a short time assumed its former appearance of 
 populousness and splendour. 
 
 Heg. 8ii (1408).— Mahmood Toghluk returned to Delhi. 
 
 Heg. 814 (14 1 2). — The king, indulging too eagerly in the diversion of hunting, 
 caught a fever, of which he died. With him fell the kingdom of Delhi from 
 the race of Toorks, the adopted slaves of the Emperor Shahab-ood-Deen 
 Ghoory, who were of the second dynasty of the Mahomedan princes of India. 
 The disastrous and inglorious reign of Mahmood Toghluk continued, from 
 first to last, twenty years and two months. 
 
 Heg. 815 {1412). — Dowlut Chan Lody, an Afghan by birth, was raised to 
 the throne by general consent of the nobles, after the death of Mahomed 
 Toghluk ; but was deposed and put to death by Khizr Chan, after a nominal 
 reign of one year and three months. 
 
 Heg. 817 (1414).— Khizr Chan ascended the throne of Delhi, and was the 
 first of the fourth dynasty of her kings. In the first year of his government, 
 he sent Mullik Tohfa with an army towards Kuttehr, which place he re- 
 duced. Nursing Ray was driven to the mountains, but upon paying a ransom, 
 his territories were restored to him. This year a band of Toorks, the ad- 
 herents of Beiram Chan, assassinated Mullik Ladho, governor of Surhind, and 
 took possession of his country. 
 
 Heg. 821 (1418). — A conspiracy was formed against the king's life; but 
 having detected the conspiracy, Khizr Chan commanded the household 
 troops to fall upon them and put them to death, 
 
 Heg. 824 (1421). — The king died in the city of Delhi, and, as a token of 
 respect for his memory, the citizens wore black for three days.* The nobles 
 having assembled, elevated Moobarik, the son of Khizr Chan, to the vacant 
 throne. 
 
 Heg. 825 (1422). — The king, having marched to Lahore, ordered the ruinc<l 
 palaces and fortifications to be repaired, and returned to Delhi. 
 
 Heg. 826 (1422). — The king deposed Mullik Secundur from the vizierat, 
 and raised Suvuur-ool-Moolk to that office. 
 
 Heg. 830(1426). Moobarik laid siege to Byana for sixteen days, but, on 
 I lie desertion of part of the garrison, Mahomed Chan, the governor, sur- 
 rendered at discretion, and with a rope about his neck was led into the royal 
 presence. ______^___ 
 
 * The Mahomedans as well as Christians v/ear black for mourning.
 
 eoa HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 832 (1428). — The king inarched to Mewat, and entirely subdued that 
 country, (ximpelling the inhabitants to pay him tribute. 
 
 Heg. 833 (1430). — Ameer Sheikh Ally having made himself master of 
 Toolumba in Moultan, plundered the place, and put to death all the men able 
 to bear aims. He likewise burned the town, and carried the wives and 
 children of the inhabitants into captivity. 
 
 Heg. 835 (1432). The king deprived his vizier of the government of 
 Lahore. 
 
 Heg. 839 (1435). — Moobarik ordered a city to be founded upon the banks 
 of the Jusuna, which he called Moobarikabad, and made an excursion towardi 
 Surhind, in order to take the diversion of the chase. On the way he received 
 advices that Surhind was taken, and the head of the rebel Folad was presented 
 to him, after which he returned to the new city. 
 
 According to custom, on the ninth of the month, Rujub ^Moobarik went 
 to worship in a mosque lately built in the new city, with only a few 
 attendants, and was put to death by a band of Hindoos clothed in armour, 
 who entered the sacred edifice while the king was performing his devo- 
 tions. The vizier immediately raised to the throne Mahomed, one of the 
 giandsons of Khizr Chan. One Ranoo, a slave of the vizier, being- 
 nominated collector of the revenues of Bayana, endeavouring to obtain pos- 
 session of the fort, was opposed and slain by Yusoof Chan Lodi. 
 
 Heg. 840(1436). — Thevizier, aided by several conspirators, broke into the royal 
 apartments with drawn swords, in order to put the king to death. The latter, 
 however, having intimation of their design, placed a guard in readiness to 
 counteract it, which, on a certain signal, rushed out upon the conspirators, 
 who fled. The vizier was killed as he was passing the door, and the other 
 conspirators, being afterwards taken, were publicly executed. 
 
 Heg. 849 (1445). — The king's power decaying rapidly, the Zemindars of 
 
 Bayana placed themselves under the government of Sultan Mahmood Khiljy, 
 
 of Malwa, and Syud Mahomed falling sick, he died a natural death, leaving 
 
 behind him the character of a weak and dissolute prince. He reigned twelve 
 
 , yeai s, and was succeeded by his son Alla-ood-Deen, 
 
 i Heg. 854 (1450). — Alla-ood-Deen, having adopted Bheilole Lody as his 
 son, formally abdicated the throne in his favour, on condition of being per- 
 mitted to reside without molestation at Budaoon. Alla-ood-Deen dwelt a*- 
 Budaoon until his death, which happened A.H. 883, a.d. 1478, his reign at 
 Delhi being seven years, and his retirement at Budaoon nearly twenty-eight.
 
 f Ij^ liibal ^wi^iit^. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GHEIAS-OOD-DEEN, a young and handsome youth in his 
 eighteenth year, was attended by a slave who was scat- 
 tering perfume round the spot upon which his master sat. This 
 youth had just ascended the throne of his father, late king of the 
 Deccan, and gave promise of being a popular sovereign. In con- 
 formity with the practice of his predecessor, he behaved very gra 
 ciously to all the members of his court, remembering the zealous 
 supporters of his family, and distinguishing them with especial 
 marks of favour. He raised several of his most deserving nobles 
 to places of distinction, and rewarded his late father's faithful do- 
 mestics with offices of trust. This greatly excited the jealousy of 
 Lallcheen, principal Toorky slave of the household, who not only 
 aspired to obtain his freedom, but to be advanced to some post of 
 honour. He was now in the presence of his young sovereign, 
 towards whom he had frequently evinced his dissatisfaction by 
 certain marks which, though they apparently expressed nothing, 
 were nevertheless sufficiently intelligible. 
 
 " Lallcheen," said the young king, *' why do you appear thus 
 dissatisfied ? My conduct, since my accession to the throne of my 
 father, seems to have diffused general content, and why should you 
 be an exception ?" 
 
 " Slaves have no great cause for satisfaction under any condition 
 of bondage ; but when faithful servants are not rewarded, tliey 
 \iave just grounds for complaint."
 
 ao4 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 " They can have none whatever, so long as the master is not 
 unjust. Slaves cannot expect to be treated like princes." 
 
 " But they can expect to be treated like men who have minds 
 to appreciate, and hearts to feel the difference between justice and 
 tyranny." 
 
 " But I think it an act of injustice to place a slave upon a level 
 with a free man. By the condition of his destiny, the fetters of 
 slavery have been cast upon him, and he must wear them. I do 
 not approve of elevating bondmen to posts of honour." 
 
 " Has the sovereign forgotten that the queen-mother was ori- 
 ginally one of that degraded class which the king thinks it unjust 
 to dignify ?" 
 
 " No woman is degraded by her condition, because she is the 
 mere instrument in the Deity's hands for perpetuating the human 
 race. The son derives neither rank nor degradation from the 
 mother ; — it therefore matters not whether she be a slave or a 
 princess." 
 
 " The king reasons like a profound casuist," said Lallcheen, widi 
 an ill-disguised sneer ; " and I feel how utterly impossible it is for a 
 slave to beat down the lofty fences of royal logic." 
 
 " You do not, however, seem very heartily convinced by it ; but 
 of this I would have you in future assured — that it will be one of 
 the principles of my government not to place my bondmen upon 
 a level with free men." 
 
 Lallcheen had been a favourite with the late king, whose memory 
 his son held in great reverence ; he therefore bore v/ith the liberty 
 of the servitor who during the last reign had received a sort of 
 licence to express his thoughts without reserve, being a person of 
 considerable intelligence and of an active inquisitive mind. 
 
 Lallcheen was exceedingly mortified at the sentiments expressed 
 by the young king. They were scored upon his mind with literal 
 fidehty, and he secretly meditated revenge, though he did not show 
 it openly. He had sprung from a race of bold haugh ty barbarians, 
 who held freedom to be the pole-star in the firmament of human 
 glory ; and the friction from the fetters of bondage seemed to rub 
 against the very core of his heart. He panted for liberty as ^
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 205 
 
 drowning man does for the air which the waters exclude from his 
 hps ; and the disappointment with which the sovereign's definitive 
 resolution was charged came over his spirit with a crushing burden 
 that for a moment seemed to weigh it down to the lowest level of 
 degradation. His fierce passions, however, which had long slum- 
 bered under the assuasive kindness of his late master, rose to his 
 relief, casting off the burden from his soul as with an arm of might 
 and lifting it where it could soar unincumbered from the trammels 
 of its griefs, devise new motives of action, and nerve itself to high 
 and important resolves. 
 
 The slave had a daughter, the fame of whose beauty had reached 
 the ears of Gheias-ood-Deen. She was as celebrated for her wit 
 as for her personal attractions, and her skill in music was so perfect 
 that she eclipsed all the regular professors of the capital. There 
 was not an accomplishment of which she was not mistress. Her 
 celebrity had already gained her many admirers, and the king ex- 
 pressed a desire to see her. 
 
 Lallcheen was not sorry at the opportunity which this circum- 
 stance might afford him of mortifying the sovereign, or of punishing 
 him more effectually, and therefore determined to throw the lovely 
 Agha in his master's way in the palace gardens, to which the slave 
 had free access. 
 
 The king was one morning walking in the gardens with liis 
 brother Shums-ood-Deen, a remarkably beautiful boy in his six- 
 teenth year. 
 
 "Who is that yonder, brother," asked the latter, "by the 
 marble tank?" 
 
 " I know not ; but, by the gait and figure, something to admire." 
 
 " She retires : I fear we shall lose the opportunity of ascertaining 
 who she may be, for handsome strangers are not wont to visit the 
 private gardens of the palace." 
 
 " Go quickly and bid her stop ; — say the king desires a word 
 with her." 
 
 Shums-ood-Deen bounded forward, and overtook the stranger 
 as she was retiring behind an arbour through a path which led to 
 a back entrance into the gardens.
 
 200 THE RIVAL BROTH ERf. 
 
 " Stay, damsel," said the prince ; " the king desires a word 
 with you." 
 
 The stranger turned, and exhibited to the wondering eyes of 
 the royal youth features and a form of such extraordinary beauty 
 that he gazed in speechless admiration. Agha, for it was she, 
 stood before him with a demeanour of undisturbed modesty 
 without uttering a word, awaiting the sovereign's approach. Gheias- 
 ood-Deen was no less amazed than his brother with the houri 
 form upon which his eyes, as he approached, instantly became 
 riveted. 
 
 " Do I," said he, " behold the marvel of my capital, to whom 
 report has ascribed such unrivalled perfections ?" 
 
 " The king beholds the daughter of his slave," said Agha, with 
 her eye fixed somewhat proudly on the youthful monarch. 
 
 " He is henceforward free for the daughter's sake," said the 
 sovereign, approaching and offering to take her hand. 
 
 She retired, and said gravely, " I am an intruder here; may I 
 be permitted to withdraw ? It shall be my care not to intrude 
 again upon the king's privacy." 
 
 " Such intrusions are blessings for which the proudest monarchs 
 of the earth would barter their sceptres. Talk not of intruding, 
 Queen of the Graces ! — not only these gardens are henceforth free 
 to thee, but every part of the palace. The sunshine of thy smile 
 will produce a harvest of delight wherever it glows." 
 
 "The daughter of a slave is but an abject thing at best; but 
 the king's mockery tends to remind her how complete is her 
 abjection." 
 
 Saying this, she withdrew, leaving the two brothers in a state of 
 blended admiration and amazement Shums-ood-Deen, in the 
 ardour of youthful enthusiasm, had he a throne to offer, felt that 
 he would willingly make her the partner of it on the instant ; but 
 Gheias-ood-Deen was influenced by a less sanctified passion. He 
 thought that the offspring of a slave could not for a moment object 
 to be the concubine of a king ; nor did he imagine that the slightest 
 impediment would be raised to the proposal, which he contemplated 
 the instant he saw the exquisite beauty of Lallcheen's daughter.
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. ao? 
 
 "What think you, brother, of this girl?" asked Gheias-ood- 
 Deen. 
 
 " That until now I liad no idea of the beautiful inhabitants of 
 Paradise. I feel my soul elated ! Oh ! with such a creature ] 
 could enjoy more than happiness in this lower world ! Had I a 
 throne, she should be my queen." 
 
 ".Silly boy!" said the brother, pettishly; "the daughters of 
 slaves do not become thrones." 
 
 " But, brother, the daughter of a slave is at this moment the 
 mother of a king." 
 
 " A bad precedent is not to be followed ; therefore no more of 
 this. You must discourage your raptures for the child of Lall- 
 chcen ; she must become part of my household, I love her, but 
 as monarchs love menials — for their pleasures, and my purpose 
 must not be crossed, Shums-ood-Deen." 
 
 This was said with a deliberate emphasis of tone that implied a 
 threat, if obedience did not follow the injunction. It greatly 
 mortified the prince. He was silent, but nevertheless resolved to 
 eontravene the designs of his brother, whose impure intentions 
 towards Agha were to him like a profanation of the sanctuary. 
 His youthful enthusiasm was on fire, and he determined, if pos- 
 sible, to counteract the king's purposes by immediately making 
 honourable love to the slave's daughter ; for he could not associate 
 the idea of degradation with anything so perfect. It seemed to 
 him as if the finger of Allah were especially to be traced in thai 
 fair work of his creation, and that therefore she ought to be 
 elevated to the highest earthly dignities, instead of being allowed 
 to wither in an atmosphere of social degradation. He lost no 
 time in seeking Lallcheen, whom he found a ready listener to his 
 sallies of enthusiastic admiration for the beautiful girl who had 
 that morning captivated his youthful heart. The slave's hostility 
 towards his master made him attend with greater readiness to the 
 proposals of the prince, who at once declared his readiness to 
 marry the lovely Agha. 
 
 " But, prince," said Lallcheen, " what will the king say to such 
 a connexion as you propose ? He thinks that bondmen ought to
 
 ao8 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 live in their fetters ; he will never, therefore, sanction your alliance 
 with slaves." 
 
 " I am free," said Shums-ood-Deen, " to marry whom I will ; he 
 has no right to control me in that which essentially regards my 
 domestic happiness. I have resolved to choose for myself, and 
 only await your consent to make me happy." 
 
 " Prince, it will not appear flattery to say that I honour your 
 liberal sentiments — that is a matter of course. If you can secure 
 my child's consent, you have mine upon one condition, that I 
 obtain my freedom ; for it would ill become the dignity of Shums- 
 ood-Deen to be the son-in-law of a slave." 
 
 " This I promise. Your freedom is a boon which the king will 
 scarcely fail to grant to a brother's supplication. Your daughter 
 would be cheaply purchased at the price of an empire." 
 
 The wily father saw that the greatest advantage was to be drawn 
 from the boyish enthusiasm of Shums-ood-Deen ; and his hopes of 
 casting back upon the king the odium which he had made to fall 
 so lieavily upon his bond-serv^ant, rose rapidly to their meridian as 
 he listened to the declarations of attachment towards his daughter 
 from the lips of his master's brother. He sought his child, and 
 prepared her for the visit of Shums-ood-Deen, at the same time 
 relating to her his earnest professions of honourable attachment. 
 She received the communication with undisguised pleasure, for 
 she had beheld the prince with more than common satisfaction. 
 His youthful beauty, untainted by the habitual exercise of gross 
 passion, had made a favourable impression upon her ; and she felt 
 gratified by the undisguised expression of delight which passed over 
 jiis glowing countenance the moment he beheld her. 
 
 " Now, my child," said the father, " you have made a flattering 
 conquest. It is no common thing to find a prince entertaining 
 honourable intentions towards those looked upon by the world 
 as excluded from all society but the lowest : appreciate this as it 
 deserves." 
 
 " I shall, my father ; but withal, flattering as such approbation is, 
 it may prove the mere effervescence of passion in a youthful bosom, 
 that \vill pass away with the occasion. At all events, be assured
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 2oq 
 
 I shall never give my consent to a union with any man upon whom 
 T nave not first bestowed my heart," 
 
 With this understanding Lallcheen prepared to introduce the 
 prince, who had declared his intention of visiting her father's 
 house that evening. 
 
 The lovers met in Agha's apartments, axid were mutually 
 charmed with each other. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ALTHOUGH a slave, Lallcheen was possessed of considerable 
 wealth, and his house would not have disgraced the dignity 
 of a nobleman. On the day Gheias-ood-Deen had seen his slave's 
 daughter, he summoned the father to his presence. 
 
 "I have been considering thy services, Lallcheen, and shall 
 reward them ; from this moment thou art a free man." 
 
 " I accept the royal boon with a bondman's gratitude. But I 
 marvel at this sudden change in the king's sentiments." 
 
 " Thou hast a daughter." 
 
 "True." 
 
 " For her sake, I recall my resolution of the morning, and give 
 thee freedom ; but thou must pay the price." 
 
 " Name it ; I am wealthy." 
 
 " I only demand a single jewel." 
 
 " If I possess it, the sovereign has only to signify his wish. 
 What jewel does the king demand?" 
 
 " Thy daughter." 
 
 '^' Ha ! thy slave must feel the honour deeply ; but will not 
 the monarch of the Deccan be dishonoured by wedding a slave's 
 daughter ?" 
 
 " Ay, in truth, he would, Lallcheen, if he were weak enougla to 
 wed a slave's daughter ; but of that he dreams not. If I give 
 thee liberty, the lovely Agha must be mine upon my own terms." 
 
 "King, I am your bondman, but not your pander. I despise 
 liberty upon the terms you offer it. My child would scorn an 
 
 INDIA. P
 
 8IO THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 impure alliance even with a mightier monarch than Gheias-ocd* 
 Deen. She has suitors of proud lineage, who woo her with 
 honourable love." 
 
 "Then my offer is refused ? 'Tis well ! the power that governs 
 an empire is not to be slighted with impunity. You will repent 
 this rash decision, — retire." 
 
 Lallcheen did retire more than ever incensed against his royal 
 master. He was stung deeply at the insult oftered to his child, in 
 the supposition that she would barter her purity for her father's 
 freedom. He felt himself, moreover, grievously ^\Tonged by his 
 royal master harbouring the thought that he could be base enough 
 to sell his daughter's honour at any price. It was an injury neither 
 to be forgiven nor forgotten. He quitted the royal presence with a 
 throbbing heart and burning brow ; — the blood had receded from 
 his cheek and lips when he entered the apartment of his child. 
 He found her singing an air in a voice that would have enchanted 
 the nightingales of Cashmere, or drawn a tear of sympathy from 
 the eye of a Peri. It was a strain of exquisite tenderness : the 
 parent's emotions were calmed at the sound of her celestial voice ; 
 but the blood returned not to those channels from which the .'-.ilent 
 struggles of passion had banished it. 
 
 " My father," said Agha, as he entered ; " why so pale ?" 
 
 " I have been disturbed, my child, by the king." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " He would give me freedom.** 
 
 "Well, would not that be a blessed deUverance?" 
 
 " At the price of my child's honour ?" 
 
 Agha's cheeks flushed, — they were overspread with an intense 
 crimson. The blood seemed to ebb rapidly from her heart, 
 which fluttered for a moment; but the reflux almost instantly 
 came and poured in upon it a tide of womanly indignation. She 
 continued silent, but the base proposals of one brother imparted 
 by contrast in her thoughts a beautiful colouring to the honourable 
 intentions of the other; and she was already half prepared to love 
 Shums-ood-Deen, and detest his royal relative.
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. an 
 
 "Well, Agha, what answer shall I return to the master who 
 honours his servant by loving that servant's daughter ?" 
 
 " Does my father require that I should frame an answer ? Could 
 not his own heart suggest it ? My answer would be precisely 
 such as I should return to a snake, were it to ask if I would per- 
 mit it to sting me." 
 
 " I have anticipated your feelings, my child, and given the 
 sovereign no hopes. He threatens violence ; his evil purposes, 
 therefore, must be counteracted by artifice. You must feign 
 acquiescence with his wishes. Having once hushed him into 
 security, I will invite him to a banquet, under the promise of re- 
 signing you to his possession, and he shall then see that impunity 
 is not the indefeasible right of kings." 
 
 In obedience to this determination, Lallcheen affected to con- 
 cur with his master's views ; but prevailed upon him on some 
 plausible pretence to delay enforcing his claim to Agha for a few 
 weeks, promising implicit obedience to his wishes at the end of a 
 specified period. 
 
 Meanwhile Shums-ood-Deen had been daily admitted to the 
 presence of Agha, upon whose young heart his generous affection 
 had made a deep impression. She could not help contrasting his 
 disinterested and honourable attachment with the selfish and 
 debasing passion of his brother ; and in proportion as her respect 
 for the one declined, her love of the other increased. The father 
 M'as gratified at witnessing this growing fondness ; it roused his 
 parental ambition : he was proud of his daughter, and longed tc 
 see her elevated to that distinction which he considered her born 
 to adorn. Shums-ood-Deen was heir apparent to the throne of 
 the Deccan. He might reign, and the beautiful Agha become a 
 queen. These thoughts roused her father's soul and stirred his 
 passions to fiercer hostility against his royal master, who, as he 
 considered, had so deeply injured him. Though the king waa 
 popular among his nobles, yet by some he was much disliked, and 
 those who were hostile to the claims of the elder brother would 
 willingly encourage the elevation of the younger. 
 
 P 2
 
 txa THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 Lallcheen took every opportunity which offered of making 
 himself acquainted with the feehngs of the nobles. Those who 
 had not been raised to posts of honour and emolument in the 
 state, were dissatisfied and ripe for a change of government ; but 
 were kept in awe by the large majority of the well-affected. The 
 sovereign fancying himself secure in the affection of his subjects, 
 took no care to subdue the murmurings of such as he considered 
 unworthy of the royal patronage ; he had, therefore, a greatei 
 number of enemies than he was aware of. 
 
 Lallcheen's plot rapidly advanced towards maturity, and he at 
 length invited the king to an entertainment, promising that he 
 would resign his daughter to him. Gheias-ood-Deen received the 
 invitation with a thrill of passionate satisfaction. Agha not being 
 privy to her father's treachery, he had taken care on that day to 
 remove her from the house on some plausible pretence, in order 
 that she might not interfere with the execution of his scheme. It 
 had been already arranged that she and the king's brother should 
 be married at the beginning of the ensuing year. 
 
 With Gheias-ood-Deen were also invited his chief Omrahs, who 
 were all much attached to his person. At an early hour the royal 
 party arrived, and were welcomed by the slave with extravagant 
 marks of loyalty. The nobles, astonished at the splendour of the 
 entertainment, freely expressed their surprise that a bondman 
 should possess so much wealth. 
 
 " Wealth," said Lallcheen, " will not purchase freedom, if it does 
 not please the monarch to grant it." 
 
 " What can compensate for the sacrifice of honest sers-ices ?" 
 said Gheias-ood-Deen, with a condescending smile j " I value them 
 more, Lallcheen, than your gold." 
 
 "But not more than my daughter, king," said the slave, 
 significantly. 
 
 "No, no ; all things have their price. I set yo ar ransom high j 
 you will, therefore, value your freedom according to the price paid 
 for it." 
 
 The guests placed themselves at the banquet. Every luxury 
 which the country produced was there in generous profusion.
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 213 
 
 The rarest wines sparkled in golden chalices, and freemen waited 
 upon the guests of the slave. The wine went round, and the king 
 anticipating the joy of being presented to the beautiful Agha, 
 drank liberally of the enlivening beverage. He began to be 
 exhilarated. 
 
 Nautch girls were introduced to heighten the pleasures of the 
 entertainment : they swam through the mazes of the dance with a 
 light, floating motion, tinkling the silver bells which hung from 
 their delicately small wrists and ankles, waving their arms with a 
 graceful undulation that gave exquisite elegance to the curving 
 motions of their bodies ; every now and then throwing their long 
 veils over their faces, and peeping through them with eyes that 
 might have kindled a ray of admiration even under the tub of 
 Diogenes, 
 
 The guests began to express their delight by loud acclamations, 
 and it had already become evident that the sovereign was con- 
 siderably elated by the wine he had taken. Lallcheen had been 
 cautious in keeping himself perfectly calm. He drank but spar- 
 ingly, and was therefore in a condition to take the best advantage 
 of the state of his guests. When he considered the favourable 
 moment had arrived for the consummation of his vengeance, he 
 commanded the nautch girls to retire, and then in a whisper 
 requested the king would order his nobles to withdraw, that his 
 obedient host might introduce his daughter, 
 
 Gheias-ood-Deen, elated at the thought of beholding the beau- 
 tiful creature who had so inflamed his passions, commanded his 
 Omrahs to quit the room, as he desired to have some private 
 conversation with the host. Excited by wine, and unsuspicious 
 of evil consequences, they obeyed with ready alacrity, singing as 
 they reeled from the apartment, and laughing stupidly at the 
 fatuity of their own thoughts. When the guests had retired, the 
 traitor led his sovereign respectfully to an ottoman, seated him, 
 and began to arrest his attention by extravagant encomiums upon 
 the beauty of his daughter. Gheias-ood-Deen listened with evident 
 delight, and at length expressed himself impatient to be introduced 
 to the idol of his love, Lallcheen perceiving that he was raised
 
 «I4 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 to the proper pitch, told him he would instantly go and bring the 
 peerless Agha to his royal master and guest. Quitting the room, 
 he shortly returned, armed with a naked dagger. 
 
 " Where is your daughter ?" asked the king. 
 
 " Here," replied the slave, raising the dagger, and advancing 
 towards his sovereign with the gleaming instrument of death in 
 his hand. 
 
 Gheias-ood-Deen, though much intoxicated, staggered towards 
 the traitor, and attempted to wrest the weapon from his grasp ; 
 but being unable to walk steadily, he fell, and rolled down a flight 
 of steps. A eunuch was in the room, who, seizing the king by 
 his hair, threw him upon his back, and pierced out his eyes with 
 the point of a crease. 
 
 Lallcheen, perceiving that he had now gone too far to retreat, 
 removed the wounded monarch to another apartment, and imme- 
 diately despatched a messenger to the nobles who had that night 
 been his guests, desiring in the king's name that they would 
 immediately return. The message was delivered to each noble 
 separately, so that one by one they reached the slave's residence. 
 As the first who arrived entered the chamber where he had so lately 
 partaken of Lallcheen's hospitality, he was put to death by two 
 eunuchs, who flung a noose over his head and strangled him. 
 Thus the whole of them were destroyed to the number of twenty- 
 four, and their bodies cast forth a prey to jackals. 
 
 On the morrow, when Agha returned to her home, she was 
 shocked beyond expression at the sanguinary revenge which her 
 fatlier had taken. Her heart was chilled : she felt that she never 
 could again look upon her parent with respect, and the fond 
 yearnings of her bosom grew cold. She reproached him with his 
 cruelty, but he silenced her with a stern rebuke. The disaffected 
 Omrahs thronged to his house, prepared to assist him in his future 
 views with respect to the government. The daring act of blinding 
 the king and slaying his nobles, had produced a general panic. 
 The people looked on in silent amazement; when Lallcheen, 
 thinking it was high time to act definitively, placed Shums-ood- 
 Deen, the deposed king's brother, upon the throne, and sent the 
 latter in confinement to the fortress of Sagur.
 
 ais 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE conduct of LaHcheen excited great indignation - but the 
 king had so lately given way to intemperance and the 
 indulgence of his grosser passions, that those hopes entertained of 
 him at his accession to the throne had subsided. He had raised 
 many enemies by his excesses. The traitor, moreover, was sup- 
 ported by the queen-mother, of whom her younger son, Shums- 
 ood-Deen, had ever been the favourite. He was extremely popular, 
 too, among many of the Omrahs ; for he was a generous youth, 
 possessing many virtues, and no flagrant vices. 
 
 The moment his brother was deposed, Lallcheen, assisted by the 
 influence of the queen-mother, placed Shums-ood-Deen upon the 
 musnud. The young monarch was now eager to make Agha his 
 queen ; but she, shocked at what had passed, could not be prevailed 
 upon, for the moment, to consent. She would not see her father, 
 and to the king's urgent entreaties to make him happy, she 
 replied : — 
 
 " Alas ! the auspices under which you reign are evil. I fear 
 that prosperity can never track the steps of a prince whose path 
 to the throne has been stained with blood." 
 
 *' My noble Agha, we must bow to the crisis that has suddenly 
 come upon us. I mourn the event which has elevated me to the 
 highest of human dignities as much as you can do, and detest the 
 agents who have placed me upon the musnud, with hands dyed in 
 my brother's blood. But as he has been disabled, it was necessary 
 that a sovereign should be found ; and I am the next of kin. You 
 know it to be against the canons of our constitution that a blind 
 prince should reign. Were I to refuse to hold the sceptre, I should 
 be looked upon with suspicion, and my life would be in perpetual 
 peril." 
 
 " Prince, I shrink from becoming the wife of a man who has 
 obtained his dignities by violence. I acquit you of all participa- 
 tion in the crime which has so suddenly made you a monarch, but 
 will never consent to share your sullied honours. I foresee only 
 misery from my parent's ambition. Though the deposed king
 
 ar6 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 would have heaped upon me the heaviest wrongs which can weigh 
 down the spirit of a virtuous woman, still I would have left him 
 to the punishment which invariably awaits the wicked, administered 
 liy a higher arbiter of human dereliction than man." 
 
 "Agha!" cried the Prince, passionately, " have I described to 
 forfeit your love ?" 
 
 " Not my love. Prince ; but my consent to be your bride. You- 
 must now form higher views ; there is an insuperable bar between 
 us." 
 
 " Nay, had we been united while I was only heir-apparent to 
 the throne to which I have been just elevated, I might have soon 
 come to that inheritance to which your father's violence has pre- 
 maturely raised me." 
 
 " But then you would have ascended the musnud with honour ; 
 now, you have ascended it with disgrace." 
 
 " I am ready to relinquish all honours for you, Agha." 
 " That may not be ; you have pushed the stone from the preci- 
 pice, and, in spite of all mortal endeavours, it will roll to the 
 bottom. Farewell, and may your reign be happy." 
 
 One day, a singular-looking devotee was seen to cast himself 
 upon the ground without the walls of the capital, and to pro- 
 nounce, in a tone of solemn vaticination, woe to the kingdom of 
 the Deccan. In proof of his inspiration, the fanatic declared 
 himself ready to fast forty days on the very spot where he then 
 lay. He was old and withered to a mere skeleton ; his age was 
 said to exceed a hundred years ; for the oldest inhabitants remem- 
 bered him but as a very aged man. His hair still hung over his 
 shoulders so copiously as to cover them like a mantle ; but it was 
 so impregnated with filth that its colour was not to be ascertained. 
 He had no beard, save a few straggling hairs scattered over his 
 chin like stunted bushes upon the desert rock. His ears were so long 
 that tkey nearly reached his shoulders, which rose towards them 
 v^ith physical sympathy, as if to relieve the head from their weight. 
 His gums were toothless, and so blackened by opium and the 
 smoke of tobacco, that as his lips parted — and when iJiey did, 
 they seemed to shrink from a renewed contact, and to seek
 
 THR RIVAL BROTHERS. 217. 
 
 severally protection from the nose and chin — the whole mouth 
 presented a feature of sickening deformity. Every rib in the old 
 man's body was as traceable as the lines which mark the latitude 
 and longitude upon a chart. The very sinews had wasted into 
 thin, rigid cords, without either flexibility or tension. 
 
 The approach of this sainted object to the city was a circum- 
 stance of much uneasiness to those who had acted so conspicuous 
 a part in the recent change of government. The veneration in 
 which he was held made them fear the effect of his crazy predic- 
 tions upon the excited multitude. 
 
 Lallcheen hoped the old man would confirm his declarations by 
 a fast of forty days ; flattering himself that, by exposing to the 
 people the delusions by which the object of their veneration 
 evidently juggled them, he should be able to show that the fanatic 
 was a worthless impostor. A tent was consequently ordered to be 
 pitched over the prostrate devotee, and a number of men appointed 
 to watch him day and night, in order to see that no human nourish- 
 ment passed his lips. Two persons were constantly by his side. 
 
 Lallcheen visited him. As the traitor appeared before him, the 
 seer raised his head ; his eye instantly kindled as if with a divine 
 afflatus, and he said, waving his arm solemnly : 
 
 " The blood of the murdered shall give life to the avenger ! 
 When slaves rebel, and grasp the thunderbolt of power, they 
 eventually hurl it against their own heads. The web of fate is 
 spun by different threads, but the woof of thine is black. Prepare, 
 Lallcheen, for the explosion which thy own ambitious hand has 
 kindled. The match is already at the train ; thou wilt soon hear 
 and feel the desolating concussion ! Woe to the destroyer !" 
 
 The slave trembled, in spite of his conviction that the saint was 
 crazed. He dreaded the influence of his wild sallies of prophecy. 
 Day after day passed, and neither food nor water was seen to pass 
 the diviner's lips. The guards were astonished, and beheld him 
 with sacred awe. They vowed they never slept : they were 
 constantly changed, but precisely the same result followed — the 
 inspired man was seen to taste nothing. He sat upon the cold 
 ground, without a rag to cover him, in an apparent state of devout
 
 zi8 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 abstraction, never uttering a word ; except now and then, when he 
 poured out terrible denunciations of \vrath against those who had 
 bUnded the late king and murdered his nobles. 
 
 Fifteen days of the term of fasting had already expired, and no 
 change appeared in the prophet. His eyes occasionally sparkled 
 with fierce brightness, though he said nothing, and the watchers 
 began to grow uneasy in his company. They feared a proximity 
 to something unearthly ; and in proprotion as they were impressed 
 with this superstitious feeling, in their eyes their sacred charge grew 
 more deformed and hideous. They placed themselves at the very 
 extremity of the tent, and were so awed by his ghoul-hke appear- 
 ance, that they were obliged, for relief, to turn their faces to the 
 broad sky, and remit their vigils until they had recovered their 
 self-possession. They took it for granted, however, that he could not, 
 like some less disgusting reptiles, feed upon the dust, and therefore 
 hesitated not to report, at the end of their term of watching, that 
 the saint had taken nothing but a chameleon diet, and yet was as 
 lively as that celebrated lizard after a six months' fattening upon 
 good wholesome air. 
 
 The people's astonishment was daily increased by the report of 
 those persons appointed to watch the devotee. They already 
 began to talk of dedicating a temple to him, and paying him divine 
 honours. 
 
 On the twentieth morning of his voluntary abstinence, the 
 venerable probationer desired that some of the authorities might 
 be summoned to attest his having undergone half of his prescribed 
 mortification, and to witness his performance of a holy rite. Lall- 
 chen accordingly visited the seer. 
 
 " Behold !" said the man, " I have subsisted twenty days ^s'ithout 
 earthly food, sustained by a heavenly nutriment, which the eye 
 does not see, but the body is sensible of. This night the Prophet 
 has visited me, and here is the sign of his coming ;" saying this he 
 held between his bony fingers a white pebble about the size 
 of a plum. "Within this," he continued, "is the revelation 
 which I shall make known to you at the termination of my 
 penance."
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 219 
 
 Having once more exhibited the pebble, he jerked it from his 
 fingers into his mouth, and swallowed it in an instant. 
 
 " For twenty days I need no further nourishment. A. stone is 
 neither meat nor drink, yet will it invigorate this withered body to 
 tell you things to come. Leave me." 
 
 He could not be prevailed upon to make any further communi- 
 cation ; but relapsed into silence. The slave was abashed before 
 the presence of a man whom he despised, and who, he felt satis- 
 fied was an impostor ; nevertheless, he dared not commit an act 
 of violence against one generally held to be in direct commu- 
 nication with Heaven. In spite of his incredulity, he could not 
 conceive how the pretended diviner had evaded the scrutiny of 
 his guards. He had used every precaution to detect the im- 
 posture, without success. Day after day passed on, but the same 
 report was every morning received that the saint had not tasted 
 food. Multitudes flocked round the tent to behold this extra- 
 ordinary man. Persons who were diseased approached to touch 
 him, imagining that their distempers would be removed by the 
 sacred contact. He pronounced blessings upon the poor, which 
 won him the homage of the needy crowd who thronged to receive 
 his benedictions. The marvel of his supernatural fast rapidly 
 spread over the country, and people came from every part of the 
 vicinity to behold him. 
 
 The term of his abstinence at length expired : no one had seen 
 him taste a morsel of food or a drop of water for forty days. On 
 the morning of the forty-first day he rose, and, quitting his tent, 
 was greeted with profound reverence by thousands who had 
 assembled to behold him. Money was thrown at his feet, which 
 he picked up and scattered among the religious mendicants who 
 had come far and near to offer him their homage. He now par- 
 took of a small quantity of milk, and then turning his face towards 
 the holy city, repeated a certain prayer. Having poured dust 
 upon his head, he crossed his arms upon his breast, and invoked 
 audibly the name of the Prophet; then came the solemn ob- 
 jurgation : 
 
 " Woe to the man of blood ! he shall fall by the hand of him
 
 230 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 from whose eyes he has shut out the sunbeam ! The sceptre 
 sliall drop from the grasp of his minion, who shall find that happi- 
 ness is not the inheritance of kings. But the innocent shall not be 
 confounded with the guilty : the slave shall be requited as becomes 
 a regicide ! The voice of our holy Prophet has spoken, and it 
 shall come to pass !" 
 
 He dropped his arms and hobbled slowly through the crowd, who 
 made way before him, following him with acclamations. Lallcheen 
 was disappointed at not having been able to detect the juggle of 
 this patriarchal deceiver. How he had managed to elude the 
 scrutiny of the watchers was a fact which baffled his comprehension; 
 and he was fearful that the credulity of the multitude as to the 
 fakeer's direct communication with Heaven might lead to dangerous 
 consequences. No doubt was entertained of the man's prophetic 
 endowments and supernatural sustentation. That he had fasted 
 forty days and forty nights was a fact which few questioned ; and 
 the general expectation was that some fearful calamity was about 
 to befall the king and his ministers. Groups of idle gossippers 
 were seen at the corners of the streets, communicating theh sus- 
 picions and whispering their fears. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHEN Shums-ood-Deen was placed upon the musnud, 
 intimidated by the fate of his unhappy brother, he was 
 afraid to oppose the man who had raised him to the throne; he 
 had therefore little more than the name of king. All the substantive 
 power was in the hands of his late father's slave, who assumed the 
 title of Muliik Naib, an office equivalent to regent ; and the 
 nobility who had escaped the sword, seeing no safety but in sub- 
 mission, bowed to his authority. The queen-mother, having been 
 originally a slave, paid the utmost deference to the traitor who had 
 blinded her elder son, in order that she might obviate any mischief 
 against the younger, whom she advised to submit to tlie wiser
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. tax 
 
 counsels of his minister, observing that he was indebted to him 
 for his crown, and that the man who had so easily deposed one 
 brother might with equal facility depose the other. "Besides,'*' 
 she said, "you owe him a debt of gratitude, and, depend upon it, 
 he will expect it to be paid. You will find, my son, many mali- 
 cious insinuations breathed into your ear against your benefactor ; 
 but let me conjure you to give them no heed, for the king who 
 requites benefits with injury can have no security for his throne." 
 
 "Alas! mother," said the young monarch, "I have been 
 exalted only to misery ; I find the throne a seat of thorns instead 
 of roses. My elevation has been the means of separating me for 
 ever from the object of my soul's idolatry, and I am become a 
 wretch whom the veriest outcast might pity." 
 
 "Nay, this is mere delusion : higher objects will engross your 
 attention now. Alliances will be sought with you by princes; 
 seek not, then, the attachment of slaves." 
 
 " Did you not recommend gratitude towards my benefactor ?" 
 
 " True, I did ; but this may be shown without marrying his 
 daughter." 
 
 " To marry her is the one dear wish of my heart ; not in order 
 to signify my gratitude to the man who has placed me upon the 
 pinnacle of human greatness, but to signalise my love for one who 
 is at once an honour to her sex and to her country." 
 
 " These are youthful raptures, my son, which the cares of royalty 
 will soon stifle," 
 
 " Never ! the impress upon my heart is too deep to wear out : 
 it will never be effaced but by the worm," 
 
 The queen-mother could not succeed in persuading her son to 
 relinquish all thoughts of the lovely Agha, which she was anxious 
 to do, in order that he might form an alliance that would secure 
 him upon the throne, and render him independent of a man who 
 might turn all his influence against him, should he be impelled by 
 caprice or interest to serve some other object of his ambition, 
 
 Shums-ood-Deen's mother treated Lallcheen with great cor 
 diality, and he, in return, behaved to her with much respect, 
 sending her valuable presents, and using every method to secure
 
 222 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 her confidence ; but this conduct on both sides was mere tem- 
 porising, as no real cordiality subsisted between them. 
 
 It was now Lallcheen's grand aim to see his daughter 
 united to the young king, and it mortified him extremely to 
 find that the only impediment was her own scruples. His 
 soul was sUmg at the chance of losing that reward \vhich he 
 had waded through blood to obtain. Disappointed ambition ex- 
 asperated him against what he called the rebellion of his child, 
 und he determined to compel her to embrace the dignity which 
 he had steeped his soul in guilt to secure for her. Knowing the 
 Readiness of Shums-ood-Deen to make her his queen, he was the 
 more enraged that any impediments should arise from her who was 
 the party that would be especially benefited by such a union ; and 
 he sought her with a determination to enforce obedience to an 
 authority which he had never hitherto exercised in vain. 
 
 " Agha," said he, sternly, "can it be possible that you refuse to 
 become the wife of a man whom you have confessed you love, and 
 who is ready to make you the partner of his throne ?" 
 
 " It is true, my father ; I never could sit upon a throne the 
 ascent to which is stained with the blood of its legitimate inheritor. 
 The present king shares in the crime of his brother's deposers so 
 long as he partakes of the fruit of their guilt." 
 
 " Girl, this is not the language of a child towards her parent ; 
 you know the first wish of my heart is that you should share his 
 dignities with the son of my late master. If the man whom I 
 propose you should w^ed were odious to you there might be some 
 reason in your opposition, but as this is not the case, I expect 
 you immediately to become the wife of Shums-ood-Deen." 
 
 " That will not be while he sits upon a blood-stained throne. 
 You are my father, and I know your power. My life is at your 
 disposal, but not my will ; you may take the one, but you shall 
 never coerce the other !" 
 
 " No, Agha, I will not take your life, however you may rebel ; 
 but your liberty is likewise at my disposal, and depend upon it, 
 that if you persist in a stubborn opposition to my wishes, you shall 
 suffer penalties under cap<»ivity which you little dream of."
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 223 
 
 " 1 have well weighed the consequences of resistance, and am 
 prepared to pay the penalty. I feel that the man who would not 
 hesitate to dethrone his king would have litde scruple about 
 imprisoning his daughter. But, to put you at once out of suspense 
 as to my determination, I tell you, firmly and solemnly, that I 
 never will comply with your wishes. Take me to the prison you 
 have prepared for me !" 
 
 Lallcheen did not reply, but quitted her with a blanched cheek. 
 He was deeply vexed at this unexpected bar to his ambition from 
 his own child. The fruits of crime were already ripening, but he 
 perceived that they had only a flavour of bitterness. He re- 
 membered the predictions of the devotee, and the sun of his glory 
 grew dim — a shadow passed over it, but the disc again grew light, 
 and he hoped that it would be no more obscured. 
 
 Difficulties now began to thicken around him. Feroze Chan 
 and Ahmud Chan, uncles to the deposed king, had promised their 
 brother-in-law, Mahmood Shah, father of Gheias-ood-Deen, when 
 he was on his death-bed, that they would be faithful and loyal to 
 his son ; they accordingly served him with submission and fidelity. 
 Being from the capital at the time their royal relative was deposed 
 by Lallcheen, they escaped the unhappy fate of the nobles who 
 were assassinated. Finding, however, that the king had been 
 dispossessed and blinded, their wives instigated their husbands to 
 avenge the indignity to which their nephew had been subjected. 
 Feroze and Ahmud Chan readily listened to these natural appeals 
 in favour of their injured relative, but the traitor, discovering their 
 intentions through his emissaries, complained to Shums-ood-Deen, 
 and, accusing those nobles of treason, demanded their instant 
 execution. Hoping to excite the young sovereign's fears, he re- 
 presented to him that their object evidently was the restoration of 
 Gheias-ood-Deen, which would involve the death of the reifjnins 
 monarch, as, the moment the deposed king was restored, he 
 would naturally wreak his vengeance upon all who liad been 
 instrumental in hurling him from his throne, among wiiom the 
 man raised to that throne would be one of the first to sufler. 
 
 Shuras-ood-Deen being emboldened by the known influence
 
 994 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 and bravery of his uncles, resisted these importunities of the slave, 
 whose imperious exercise of authority already began to be exceed- 
 ingly vexatious. Seeing that the opposition was hkely to become 
 serious, Lallcheen sought the queen-mother, and artfully repre- 
 senting to her the perils by which her son was beset, obtained her 
 promise to co-operate with him in counteracting the confederacy 
 forming against the government of her younger son. 
 
 " If," said he, " we do not get rid of these Omrahs, the worst 
 consequences are to be apprehended. Their connexion with the 
 blood-royal gives them an influence which must endanger the 
 safety of your son 3 and you being suspected of having participated 
 in the late revolution, will be certainly singled out as one of the 
 first victims. If they are not to be overcome by open force, the 
 concealed dagger is a sure and speedy remedy against threatened 
 hostility." 
 
 These arguments rousing the queen's fears, she hastened to her 
 eon, threw herself at his feet, and implored him to provide for his 
 own and his mother's safety by ordering the instant seizure of the 
 two refractory nobles before they should be aware that their hostile 
 designs had been made known. 
 
 Shums-ood-Deen, overcome by the earnest entreaties of his 
 mother, was reluctantly induced to consent to the apprehension of 
 the husbands of his aunts. They, however, having obtained intelli 
 gence of his design, quitted Koolburga, and shut themselves up 
 in the fortress of Sagur, where they were for the present secure 
 from the machinations of their enemy. 
 
 An officer of the name of Suddoo, formerly a servant of the 
 royal family, commanded in Sagur. He was rich and powerful, 
 and received the princes with the greatest hospitality, doing every- 
 thing in his power to evince his attachment to them. He was 
 entirely in the interests of the deposed monarch, and felt the 
 strongest antipathy towards the traitor who had mutilated him 
 and assassinated his nobles. He had been elevated by Gheias- 
 ood-Deen to his present dignity as a reward for long and faith- 
 ful services, and his gratitude did not sleep. Towards Lall- 
 cheen he always entertained a secret enmity, suspecting the
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 225 
 
 ntegrity of his purposes, and believing him to be nothing better 
 than a hollow hypocrite. 
 
 The fortress under Suddoo's command was one of great 
 strength, and in it for the present the princes felt themselves 
 perfectly secure. Here they were determined to remain until 
 they could assemble a sufficient body of forces to oppose the 
 treacherous slave. 
 
 In pursuance of this determuiation, they addressed letters to 
 Shums-ood-Deen and the principal nobility, declaring that they 
 were making preparations to chastise the man who had committed 
 such an act of outrage upon his sovereign, at the same time declaring 
 that they had no intention of disturbing the existing government 
 They stated that, as near relatives of the deposed monarch, they 
 conceived it their duty to use every effort to inflict justice upon 
 him by whom he had been so irreparably injured, and called upon 
 the nobility and the reigning sovereign to assist them in punishing 
 so grievous an offender. If this were done they promised entire 
 submission to Shums-ood-Deen's government, and concluded by a 
 solemn asseveration that nothing should deter them from bringing 
 retribution upon the head of Lallcheen. 
 
 The' king was not disposed to look unfavourably at this com- 
 munication. The trammels which his benefactor, as the sanguinary 
 slave always called himself, had cast upon him, cramped his 
 youthful and ardent spirit. Nothing but his affection for the 
 daughter made him hesitate upon sacrificing the father. This 
 caused him at first to waver ; he thought upon her beauty, her ao 
 complishments, and his passion began to blaze. How would she 
 endure to see her father given up to certain death by the man 
 who professed to love her as his own soul ? Would she not 
 spurn him, would she not shrink with loathing from the destroyer 
 of her parent ? He reflected upon that parent's baseness, his am- 
 nition, his tyranny ; but his love for Agha bore down all opposi- 
 tion arising from the contemplation of her father's worthlessness, 
 and he finally determined to protect the man whom by every 
 principle of equity he was bound to sacrifice. 
 
 Lallcheen meanwhile was not insensible to what was going on, 
 
 INDI.'V. Q
 
 B26 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 He was now more than ever anxious that his daughter should be 
 united to the reigning monarcli, as he imagined it would tend to 
 confirm his own influence in the state, and put an end at once to 
 those hostile measures which the family of Gheias-ood-Deen were 
 taking to vindicate the wrongs of their royal relative : it would 
 moreover enable him to command the whole energies of Shums- 
 ood-Deen's kingdom, civil, political and military, which he would 
 have the power of emplo3ang to counteract the hostile intentions 
 of his foes. He felt himself, nevertheless, in a state of great em- 
 barrassment, and began to entertain such designs as are generally 
 the resort of desperate men. Although conscious of his un- 
 popularity, he had nevertheless secured the favour of the troops 
 by paying up their arrears, and allowing them some privileges 
 which they had never hitherto enjoyed. All the disaffected 
 Omrahs too, of whom there were not a few, tendered him their 
 services, and declared that they would maintain his cause to the 
 last drop of their blood. He, however, was fully aware how little 
 confidence is to be placed either upon the professions or promises 
 of unprincipled men. His own heart was a faithful interpreter of 
 what such promises and professions amounted to, and he there- 
 fore felt anything but in a state of security. This rendered him 
 desperate. The opposition of his daughter had so exasperated him 
 Ugainst her that he had treated her with a severity which, instead 
 of subduing her resolution, had only the more firmly determined 
 her to thwart his wishes with an indomitable resolution, which he 
 did not imagine she possessed To all his promises of tenderness 
 towards her, if she would only relax from her stubborn opposition, 
 she replied by a calm look of defiance, that moved him more than 
 once to acts of violence. She shrank not from the arm that 
 struck her to the earth, but rose without a murmur of complaint, 
 and smiled upon the impotent malice that would stifle her con- 
 science under the claims of parental authority. 
 
 The situation of the slave was now bv'coming critical. He 
 sought the queen-mother, and represented to her the danger to 
 which she must necessarily be exposed, should the avengers of 
 her elder son's deposition succeed in gaining possession of the
 
 THB RIVAL BROTHERS, 227 
 
 capital. She had never been popular with the Omrahs, and there- 
 fore began to fear that her fate would be involved in that of 
 Lallcheen, as it was generally believed that she had been more 
 than privy to the late massacre of the nobles at the slave's house. 
 Imagining her safety inseparable from his, she hastened to hei 
 son, and demanded his protection for Lallcheen. " It is evident," 
 she said, " that the pretended avengers of your brother's wrongs 
 seek but the gratification of their own ambition, either in your 
 death or degradation. Our common interests require that we 
 should oppose them." 
 
 " Are our means sufficient ?" 
 
 " You have the confidence of the army and of the chief Omrahs, 
 and the enemy can only hope to seduce under their banners the 
 disaffected, who are as likely to become traitors to their present 
 masters as they were to their former. We have no alternative but 
 a resolute and fierce resistance ; let me entreat you, therefore, to 
 return an unqualified defiance to those haughty rebels, who seek 
 to subvert your government." 
 
 Shums-ocd-Deen being thus prevailed upon by his mother to act 
 with instant decision, returned an answer to Feroze and Ahmud 
 Chan which served only to inflame those princes without bettering 
 his own cause. They, with the assistance of Suddoo, having 
 collected three thousand horse and foot, proceeded towards the 
 capital, calculating with much confidence that other troops would 
 join them on their march. Disappointed, however, in this ex- 
 pectation, they halted for some time on the banks of the river 
 Beema, without receiving any reinforcements. All the chiefs 
 withheld their aid, as if they considered the good cause desperate. 
 This, nevertheless, did not deter the princes from proceeding with 
 their present means to put into immediate execution their design 
 of vindicating the wrongs of a much-injured sovereign. It was 
 accordingly agreed that they should advance without further delay, 
 with the regal canopy carried over the head of Feroze Chan. 
 Upon this occasion his brother Ahmud was raised to the nuik of 
 Ameer-ool-Omrah, Suddoo to that of Meer Nobut, and Mecr Feiz 
 OoUa Anjoo to that of Vakeel or minister. 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 On the arrival of the princes within four coss of the city, Lall« 
 cheen marched out to meet them, accompanied by the young king. 
 He had distributed great sums of money among the officers and 
 troops, which had secured their present fideUty. Knowing that 
 the means of his enemies were insufficient to purchase the 
 treachery of his army, he advanced against them with great con 
 fidence. His own numerical superiority caused him to look upon 
 victory as certain ; and when he considered the raw, undisciplined 
 state of the hostile forces, his confidence grew into arrogance, 
 which eventually did fatal mischief to his cause. 
 
 Notwithstanding the disadvantages under which the princes 
 laboured, they did not decline an engagement. They trusted to 
 their good intentions, and the general enthusiasm of their troops. 
 A severe battle was consequently fought in the vicinity of the 
 town of Merkole ; and the brothers being defeated, after an ob- 
 stinate resistance, fled with their adherents to the fort of Sagur. 
 
 The victors were beyond measure elated at the successful issue 
 of this first battle. The power of Lallcheen increased his pre- 
 sumption and that of the queen-mother, which at length rose to 
 such a height that many officers of the court privately oftered their 
 services to the defeated princes, whom they advised to lose no 
 time in procuring pardon from Shums-ood-Deen, by offers of im- 
 mediately returning to their allegiance, and repairing to the capital 
 without loss of time, in order to concert future plans for punishing 
 the traitor and re-establishing the lawful supremacy. 
 
 Lallcheen was *^oo much engrossed by the views of his am- 
 bition, which rose with his success, to observe that a silent but 
 secrLo disaffection was working among the nobles and some of the 
 mosl influential officers of the army. Confidence rendered him 
 haughty, and where he was in the habit of conciliating he began 
 to command.
 
 229 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE disgust which the pampered minion daily excited by his 
 arrogance rendered him shortly so unpopular, that the 
 brothers Feroze and Ahmud Chan resolved to embrace the advice 
 of those Onirahs who had promised to favour their cause. Rely- 
 ing upon their assurances, in the sincerity of which they were 
 confirmed by the growing unpopularity of Lallcheen, they sent 
 Meir Feiz Oolla Anjoo, Syud Kumal-ood-Deen, and other persons 
 of distinction, to the slave and the queen-mother, representing that 
 fear only had occasioned their rebellion, of which they now sin- 
 cerely repented, and promising that, if the sovereign would send 
 them written assurances of pardon, they would repair to court. 
 The traitor, imagining that if they were once in the capital he 
 should have the means of disposing of them at pleasure, was 
 elated by these overtures ; and repairing forthwith to the king, 
 persuaded him to listen favourably to their supplications. Ac- 
 cordingly letters, containing flattering assurances of forgiveness, 
 were immediately despatched to the refractory princes. 
 
 Since her last positive refusal to espouse the king, Agha had 
 never been once permitted to leave her apartment; but having found 
 means to corrupt the two women to whose custody she was con- 
 signed, she quitted her father's house unobserved, and left the city 
 in a covered litter. Knowing that Feroze and Ahmud Chan were 
 at the Fort of Sagur, she determined to proceed thither, and cast 
 herself upon their protection. They received her with the greatest 
 respect. Her story deeply interested them. Her generous for- 
 bearance in refusing to marry the reigning sovereign because his 
 ascent to the musnud had been stained with blood exalted her 
 highly in their estimation, and in their overtures to the king they 
 stipulated in her favour for oblivion of the past and assurances of 
 future kind treatment. The father, though exasperated at her 
 escape, thought that the wisest policy would be to dissemble his 
 anger, hoping yet to overcome her repugnance, and to see her 
 queen ot the Deccan. She, however, refused to return to the
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHEKS» 
 
 capital unless sfte were guaranteed the protection of some influential 
 person who could shield her from her father's violence. It was 
 ultimately agreed that she should dwell with the queen, who offered 
 her an asylum in her palace. 
 
 She had some difficulty in concurring with any arrangement 
 that should put her again in the power of him who, though her 
 natural protector, had treated her with savage severity. She 
 feared that under the queen's roof she should not be secure from 
 the oppression of that father towards whom she felt the natural 
 instincts of affection giving way to those harsher feelings which 
 tyranny, even though exercised under the questionable plea of 
 paternal authority, can never fail to excite. 
 
 The brothers received Shums-ood-Deen's assurances of pardon 
 with some misgivings, although these were couched in the strongest 
 terms of affectionate welcome. They knew the treacherous heart 
 of the man by whose sinister counsels the sovereign was swayed, 
 and their minds were in a state of vibration between pacification 
 and resistance. The day after the royal communication arrived, 
 the t^vo brothers were sitting upon a terrace consulting whether they 
 should venture to the capital. 
 
 " I have no confidence in the king's promises," said Ahmud 
 Chan, "because he is under the control of those to whom treachery 
 is too familiar not to be resorted to, should their interests suggest 
 such a course. The moment we are within the walls of the capital 
 we shall be in the slave's power, and we have reason to know how 
 little mercy he has for those who wear his fetters. Slaves are pro- 
 verbially and practically the worst of tyrants." 
 
 " But," said Feroze, "we have our security in the dissatisfaction 
 of the nobles, who already look upon him with an eye of jealousy. 
 They can ill bear to see a menial, not only raised above their 
 heads, but affecting to rule them. The troops have been won by 
 his gold, but as his coffers get low their zeal will cool, and the 
 moment the reaction comes he will be in jeopardy." 
 
 " But meanwhile we shall be in danger. It is a nice question 
 to decide whether we should throw ourselves upon the sovereign's 
 forgiveness or continue in arms, for there is danger in both."
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 231 
 
 " Tlie least danger will be the best choice ; and I think we 
 shall incur less risk in repairing to the capital than in keeping up 
 our hostility with such insufificient means." 
 
 " But we have promised protection to the slave's daughter 
 against her father's violence." 
 
 '• That is guaranteed by the king." 
 
 " The promises of monarchs are hollow. They are too often 
 made for convenience, and broken at pleasure." 
 
 While the brothers were debating whether they should disband 
 their troops and accept Shums-ood-Deen's offers of pardon, or 
 remain his declared enemies, a Cashmerian madman passed by. 
 His dress was covered with red paint. A chowry was stuck in his 
 turban, and round his legs were bound wisps of grass. In his 
 hand he flourished a long thin bamboo, at the head of which was 
 fixed an orange. Approaching the princes, he said, " I am come 
 from the Prophet with happy tidings, Feroze Chan. He has 
 deputed me to conduct you to Koolburga, and place you upon 
 the musnud, and I shall do his bidding. You may smile, Feroze 
 Chan, but this will not be the first time a fool has set up a king." 
 
 Regarding this as a happy omen, and remembering the pre- 
 diction of the saint who had fasted forty days, the brothers, ac- 
 companied by Agha, proceeded immediately to Koolburga, where 
 they were warmly welcomed by the young monarch. Lallcheen 
 received them with a studied civility ; from the first moment they 
 met he and the princes were visibly guarded in their conduct, and 
 the slave, with all his subtlety, was unable to win the confidence 
 of either brother. 
 
 No sooner had Feroze and Ahmud Chan entered the capital, 
 than they endeavoured to render themselves popular with the 
 citizens, who, it was sufficiently evident, were by no means con- 
 tented under the existing government. In order to satisfy the 
 .apacity of the troops, Lallcheen had been reduced to the neces- 
 sity of drawing largely upon the people's pockets, and as his 
 exactions were grievous, their dislike of him was bitter in propor- 
 tion. The troops, too, f.nding that his bounty had subsided, 
 relaxed i" their fidelity, and murmurs began to be everywhere
 
 832 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 heard. The slave was roused to a sense of his danger ; but 
 seeing he possessed the confidence of the monarch and his 
 mother, he fancied that by shehering himself behind their influence 
 he should escape any mischief which might be threatened by the 
 dissatisfied citizens. His daughter, according to the king's stipu- 
 lation with the princes, had remained in the queen's house, so 
 that she had not been molested by her father, who, in compliance 
 with the royal wish, had forborne to see her. Thinking such 
 forbearance would satisfy the brothers, he was disposed rigidly to 
 adhere to the terms of his contract with them, when they con- 
 sented to throw themselves upon the sovereign's mercy, and restore 
 the beautiful Agha to the protection of her friends. 
 
 About a fortnight after the arrival of Feroze and Ahmud Chan 
 the king had a public audience. Feroze entered the durbar, 
 accompanied by twelve silehdars devoted to his interest. These 
 silehdars answered to our knights, and followed the courts of their 
 monarchs mounted on their own horses, and in their train rode 
 one or more attendants. Feroze had previously stationed three 
 hundred faithful followers without the audience-chamber. Not 
 the slightest suspicion was awakened either in the breast of the 
 king or his minister. Shortly after Feroze had arrived, his brother 
 Ahmud entered the court, as had been previously concerted. 
 Upon his arrival the princes told Lallcheen that some of 
 their relatives were come from their estates in order to pay 
 their respect to the sovereign, and requested that orders might 
 therefore be given to the porters to admit whomsoever he should 
 send for. 
 
 The minister, entertaining no idea of mischief, gave the order 
 without hesitation, affecting great urbanity, as if willing to con- 
 ciliate those whom he feared, and who, if not propitiated by at 
 least an appearance of courtesy, might eventually prove dangerous 
 enemies. 
 
 Shums-ood-Deen, meanwhile, being occupied wth the ceremony 
 of receiving his nobles, paid no attention to the number of 
 strangers who accompanied his relatives. The court on this day 
 was very numerously attended, and the shades of disafiection were
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 233 
 
 seen on many a brow which bent before the throne with the usual 
 expression of homage. 
 
 At a signal from Feroze Chan, who took care to occupy Lall- 
 cheen's attention by exciting an animated discussion, his brother 
 retired from the audience-chamber under pretence of introducing 
 his relations. In a short time he returned, but, upon attempting 
 to pass the guards with twelve followers, he was stopped, the 
 soldiers refusing to allow him to proceed unless he could give a 
 satisfactory account of himself, and of those by whom he was 
 attended. 
 
 The moment was critical, and the danger imminent, but Ahmud 
 resolved to put all to the hazard. Imagining that the plot was 
 discovered, he commanded the guards to stand back, but they 
 instantly interposed themselves between him and the door. Order- 
 ing his followers to draw their swords, and unsheathing his own at 
 the same moment, he buried it in the body of the foremost man 
 who had opposed his entrance. His companions, following so 
 resolute an example, attacked the guards with such spirit that 
 they were soon overpowered, and many slain. Ahmud rushed into 
 the durbar witli his sword drawn and his dress spotted with blood. 
 
 The utmost confusion prevailed. A few of the minister's crea- 
 tures assembled round him, and endeavoured to protect their 
 patron ; but all the rest of the assembly fled : they were suffered 
 to escape, as their flight only rendered the capture of the traitor 
 more sure. Pale and trembling, the latter stood in the midst of 
 his attendants imploring mercy ; but when he found that it would 
 be denied, he summoned his energies for a last struggle. His 
 followers behaved with great gallantry, and while they were fighting 
 in his defence, a body of soldiers stationed in the courts of the 
 palace rushing in, saved the king and his minister from immediate 
 destruction. 
 
 The three hundred adherents of Feroze Chan, hearing the din 
 of battle, quitted their station, and repairing to the spot, attacked 
 and put to flight the royal guards, together with the dependents of 
 Lallcheen, and in a short time the palace was in possession of the 
 two princes. They were soon joined by many disaffected nobles;
 
 234 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 and when the issue was known to the citizens, acclamations were 
 everywhere heard, and threats of extermination against the tyrant. 
 It was now clear that Feroze and Ahmud Chan were masters of the 
 capital. When the tumult had subsided, the king and Lallcheen 
 were nowhere to be found ; but after a diligent search, being dis- 
 covered in a subterraneous chamber, they were dragged before the 
 conquerors. 
 
 " Traitor P said Feroze Chan to the now humbled slave, " what 
 punishment do you deserve for your enormities ?" 
 
 " Such a punishment as a generous conqueror would inflict." 
 
 " You have pronounced your own doom." 
 
 " Generous souls requite evil with good." 
 
 " But there are degrees of guilt which to pardon would be mi- 
 just ; and where mercy is unjustly bestowed it is a crime. Your 
 punishment shall rest with him who has received the greatest in- 
 jury at your hands." 
 
 Feroze Chan having put chains upon the king and Lallcheen, 
 confined them in the apartment where they had sought shelter, 
 while he, accompanied by the nobility, repaired to the hall of 
 audience and ascended the throne amid the acclamations of his 
 followers ; thus fulfilling the prediction of the Cashmerian mad- 
 man. He assumed the title of Feroze Shah Roze Afzoon, and, 
 by way of confirming his title, placed upon his thigh the sword of 
 Alla-ood-Deen Hussun Gungoo. Having established his au- 
 thority^ without the slightest opposition, he sent for Gheias-ood- 
 Deen from the fort of Sagur. When the unhappy ex-king was 
 brought into the presence of Feroze Chan, the latter said — 
 
 " Gheias-ood-Deen, I regret that the laws do not permit a 
 blinded sovereign to reign, or I should have had more joy in 
 placing the sceptre in your hands than in my own. What is there 
 that you would desire to render your life happy?" 
 
 " My requests are two — first, that I may be allowed to inflict 
 punishment with my own hands upon the man who blinded me, 
 and next to perform a pilgrimage to Mecca that expiation may be 
 oftered for my sins. There I should wish to pass the remainder 
 of my life, which I purpose devoting to God."
 
 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 935 
 
 " Your wishes are granted," said Feroze, " and I shall order the 
 treasurer to remit you annually the sum of five thousand golden 
 ashruffies* for your maintainance, as becomes a prince." 
 
 Lallcheen was now brought in chains before his late victim. 
 When he saw Gheias-ood-Deen standing with a drawn sword in 
 the midst of the hall of audience, a clammy moisture oozed from 
 every pore of his body, and he felt as if the dews of death had 
 gathered upon his brow. Being brought close to Gheias-ood-Deen, 
 the latter said, " Who stands before me ?" 
 
 Lallcheen was silent. 
 
 " Let me hear thy voice, slave. What punishment does the 
 man deserve who deposes a monarch and murders his nobles ?" 
 
 The slave was still silent. 
 
 " Traitor, I am blind ! it was through thee that these eyes were 
 closed in everlasting darkness. The penalty of crime is now de- 
 manded. Art thou prepared to perish ?" 
 
 There was no answer. The ex-king placed his hand upon Lall- 
 cheen's shoulder, and raising his sword, brought it with the full 
 force of an arm of vengeance upon the head of the criminal, who 
 fell dead at the avenger's feet. 
 
 On the following day Agha solicited an audience of the new 
 monarch. 
 
 "King," she said, "I need not tell you that mercy is the 
 brightest jewel in the regal sceptre. It is the axiom of every 
 country where sovereigns reign and people are obedient." 
 
 " On whose account, lovely girl, do you seek to propitiate the 
 royal clemency ?" 
 
 " On that of the deposed monarch, Shums-ood-Deen. I know 
 him to have been innocent of any participation in the late trans- 
 actions which have cast such ignominy upon the memory of one 
 whom I would willingly have remembered as a good man. 
 Shums-ood-Deen sought not to reign. Had he rejected the 
 throne, his only alternative was to die. We were plighted to each 
 other. I refused to wed him as a king, when I did not consider 
 iiis elevation just ; but I am prepared to link my destiny with his 
 now the bar is removed which disunited us." 
 
 * The ashruffy varied from thirty to forty shillings.
 
 336 THE RIVAL BROTHERS. 
 
 " Your wish, lady, shall be fulfilled. He will be released for 
 your sake, with the government of Dowlatabad as a reward for his 
 temperance upon the throne. You shall be the messenger of 
 these tidings." 
 
 Agha fell at the king's feet ; he raised and dismissed her, with 
 kind assurances of future favour. She sought the apartment in 
 which Shums-ood-Deen was confined. He was seated on the 
 ground at the extremity fronting the door, and remarked not her 
 entrance. His hand was upon his brow. He seemed to press 
 it, as if it ached from the severe infliction of his own thoughts. 
 The sigh came heavily from his bosom, and he occasionally 
 muttered indistinct sounds, which were evidently the groanings of 
 a lacerated spirit. He did not raise his head as Agha advanced, 
 but appeared unconscious of her presence. 
 
 " Shums-ood-Deen !" she said, in a tone of the gentlest tender- 
 ness. He started from the ground in a moment. 
 
 "Alia Akbur!" he cried, bowing his head; "It is Agha! Is 
 this a visit of reconciliation before I die ?" 
 
 " I come to release you from your chains. You have imagined 
 that I did not love you. It was a mistake : I loved the man, but 
 as I could not respect the king, I determined not to be the partner 
 of an elevation which my conscience could not justify. Your 
 pardon has been pronounced by the reigning monarch : I have 
 his authority for announcing to you that you will be henceforward 
 governor of Dowlatabad j and, if you still think the slave's 
 daughter worthy of your choice, she is now prepared to fulfil 
 her pledge." 
 
 He threw his arms round her. They repaired to the royal pre- 
 sence, where Shums-ood-Deen's pardon was confirmed, and a 
 proclamation to that effect immediately issued. He swore 
 allegiance to Feroze Shah Bahmuny with much more joy than he 
 had received the sceptre. The details of love and marriage are 
 too ordinary events of life for the pages of history ; it therefore 
 only remains for the narrator of these adventures to say, that the 
 beautiful Agha and the youthful Shums-ood-Deen were married 
 forthwith, and repaired to Dowlatabad to a peaceful and happy 
 home.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 854 ( A. D. 1450). — Blieilole Lody Afghan was the first pnnce of the 
 fifth dynasty of the kings of Delhi. He succeeded Alla-ood-Deen, who 
 resigned the kingdom to him, and retired to Budaoon, where he died. 
 
 Heg. 856 (1452). — The king having defeated several insurgent sheiks, the 
 power of Bheilole Lody was firmly established. 
 
 Heg. 883 (1478). — Syud Alla-ood-Deen, who had abdicated the throne of 
 Delhi, dying at Budaoon, Hoossein Shah Shurky proceeded thither, and after 
 performing the funeral ceremonies, seized that district from the children of 
 Alla-ood-Deen. From thence marching to Sumbhul, he imprisoned Moobarik 
 Chan, governor of that province, and proceeding towards Delhi, crossed the 
 river Jumna, near the Cutcha ghaut. Bheilole Lody was at Surhind when he 
 received intelligence of this invasion, and returning with expedition to his 
 capital, several slight actions ensued ; but Hoossein Shah Shurky was finally 
 defeated in a general engagement at Canouge, when his regalia, equipage, and 
 the chief lady of his harem, Bceby Khonza, fell into the victor's hands. After 
 this decisive victory, Bheilole retreated to his capital. 
 
 Heg. 894 (14S8). — The king being now old, and infirmities increasing daily 
 upon him, he divided his dominions among his sons, and died at Eadowly, in 
 the district of Sukeet, after a prosperous reign of thirty years, eight months, 
 and seven days. He was succeeded by Secunder Chan, son of Zeina, the 
 daughter of a goldsmith, introduced into the royal harem on account of her 
 beauty. 
 
 Heg. 897 {149 1 ). — The fort of Agra fell to the king's arms after a short but 
 stubborn siege. 
 
 Heg. 900 (1494). — The king met Hoossein Shah Shurky in the field, and 
 defeated him at a place about eighteen coss or thirty-six miles from Benares. 
 The vanquished chief fled to Patna, and his army was nearly exterminated. 
 
 Heg. 904 (1498). — A conspiracy was formed against the life of Secunder 
 Lody, which being detected, the conspirators, who were powerful Omrahs, 
 vi'ere despatched upon different services, and cut off in detail. 
 
 Heg. 905 (1499). — Syud Chan Lody, Tartar Chan FiiTnully, and Mahomed 
 Shah Lody, being suspected of disaffection, were banished to Guzerat. 
 
 Heg. 915 (1509). — The king being encamped at Dholporc, he ordered 
 Suliroan Chan to march to the aid of Hoossein Chan, of Hunwuntg**^
 
 •38 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Suliman Chan having excused himself by saying that he preferred being about 
 the king's person, the latter became incensed, and forthwith dismissed him 
 from his service, directing him to quit his camp by daybreak the following 
 inorning, at the same time conferring on him the revenue of Binm for his 
 future maintenance. 
 
 Heg. 923 (15 1 7). — Secunder being taken ill, died of quinsy, and was suc- 
 ceeded by his son Ibrahim. A conspiracy was formed by the Lody chiefs to 
 raise his younger brother to the throne. 
 
 Heg. 923 (1518). — The king prepared to defeat the aims of the conspirators, 
 whom he finally quelled, and giving full latitude to his vengeance, put many 
 of the Omrahs to death. 
 
 Heg. 925 (1519). — Babur made his first campaign in India. On this 
 occasion he marched his anny as far as the Indus, to where it is called the 
 Neelab : he overran with his troops all the countries in his route, and crossin<T 
 the river, advanced to Berah in Punjab. In this province he levied contribu- 
 tions upon the inhabitants, instead of allowing his troops to plunder. From 
 Berah he sent to Ibrahim, acquainting him that as the Punjab had been fre- 
 quently in possession of the house of Timour, it was fit he should relinquish 
 his pretension to it, and thus prevent the war from being carried further into 
 India. 
 
 Heg. 926 (1520). — Babur made his third irruption into India, attacking the 
 Afghans on his route. 
 
 Heg. 928 (1522).— Chandahar and the country of Gurmseer fell into Babur's 
 hands. 
 
 Heg. 930 (T524). — Babur entered Latiore in triumph, having defeated the 
 troops of Ibrahim Lody, and set fire to the Bazaar, a superstitious practice 
 common among the Moguls. Babur remained only four days in Lahore, 
 when he proceeded against Depalpore. The garrison having forced him to 
 risk an assault, he put the whole to the sword. 
 
 Heg. 932 (1525). — Babur marched for the first time towards Hindostan, 
 \ieing joined by his son Hamayoon from Budukhshan, and Khwaja Kullan 
 fiom Ghizny. This year, Babur, with an army of only twelve thousand men 
 defeated Ibrahim Lody, who brought into the field a hundred thousand horse 
 and a hundred elephants. This victory secured the empire of India to the 
 House of Timour. Ibrahim Lody was found among the slain. This year the 
 fort of Gualior was besieged by a numerous army of Hindoos. Tartar Chan, 
 the governor, being reduced to great distress, applied to Babur, who marched 
 to his relief, and obliged the enemy to raise the siege. 
 
 Heg. 933(1525). — The mother of the late king of Delhi, Ibrahim Lody, 
 formed a design to poison Babur, and seduced the taster of the royal kitchen 
 to put some poison into a dish of hare soup. Babur, after tasting a few spoons- 
 ful, nauseated the soup, and immedialy vomited, which saved his life. The 
 plot was discovered, the taster put to death, Ibrahim Lody's mother cast 
 into prison, and her wealth confiscated.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. »^ 
 
 Heg933 (1526). — The king defeated an army collected by several con- 
 federated chieftains, in order to place a son of the late Ibrahim Lody upon the 
 >hrone of Delhi. 
 
 Heg. 935 (1528). — Babur commenced a tour through his new kingdom. H« 
 first took the route to Gualior, and viewed there the fortifications, the stone 
 elephant, and the celebrated palace of Rajah Man Singh. He then visited 
 the gardens of Raheem Dad, and having admired some extremely fine scarlet 
 oleander flowers, ordered a few of the plants to be conveyed to Agra. 
 During his stay at Gualior he went in state to the great Mosque, built by the 
 Emperor Altmish, for whose soul he ordered prayers to be read, and returned 
 by another route to Agra. 
 
 Heg. 936 (1530). — In the month Rujab of this year, the king fell sick, and 
 his disorder gaining ground, he sent for his son Prince Humayoon, and 
 appointed him his successor. 
 
 Heg. 937 (1530). — On Monday the fifth of Jumad-ool-Awul, Babur Padshah 
 died. According to his will his body was transported to Cabul, and interred 
 in a sepulchre at that city. He died at the age of fifty, having reigned thirty, 
 eight years.
 
 C^c BxtQt of (Sxti^Ibr.' 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 '""T^HE fort of Gualior was in a state of siege. Tartar Chan was 
 1. at this time governor of it ; but being beleagured by the 
 Rajah of that country, to whose family it had formerly belonged, 
 and not in a condition to resist the numerous forces of the 
 Hindoo, Tartar Chan solicited Eabur's aid. The detachment of 
 troops sent by the Mogul monarch defeated the Rajah, and obliged 
 him to raise the siege. The governor being now released from his 
 enemies, and repenting of his promise of submission, delayed, 
 under plausible but frivolous pretences, to put the Moguls in 
 possession of the fortress. Their general, therefore, retreated in 
 disgust, with a threat of soon coming in larger force to compel 
 this fulfilment of the conditions upon which his services had been 
 expressly rendered. 
 
 The Moguls had no sooner retired than the Rajah returned with 
 his forces and invested Gualior. Tartar Chan was again in a 
 dilemma, but feared making another application to the Mogul 
 Emperor, whom he had lately requited with such signal ingratitude. 
 Within the fort was one Sheik Mahomed Ghows, a very learned 
 man, who had a great number of students under him, and was 
 looked upon as an oracle throughout the province. He was con- 
 sulted in all cases of emergency, being thought to possess the gift 
 of inspiration. In his difficulty, Tartar Chan repaired to the sage, 
 and asked him what was to be done under the present unpro- 
 mising aspect of his affairs.
 
 THS: SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 441 
 
 " We have not provisions," said he, " for more than a few weeks ; 
 and the garrison is ah-eady so much reduced that a sally cannot be 
 prudently attempted. What is to be done ?" 
 
 " You have but a choice of evils ; you must propitiate the 
 Mogul." 
 
 "Euthow?" 
 
 " Deliver the fortress into his hands." 
 
 " Then I may as well capitulate to the enemy." 
 
 " No ; from the Hindoos you may look for extermination, from 
 the worshippers of the Prophet you may hope to retain your go- 
 vernment in fealty to the Emperor." 
 
 " No vassal is secure under the domination of despotism." 
 
 " What security have you within these walls, surrounded by an 
 implacable enemy whom you acknowledge you are in no condition 
 longer to resist, and who are prepared to exercise against you the 
 severities which conquerors seldom fail to inflict upon the van- 
 quished, whom they happen to hate ? You have asked my advice 
 under your present difficulties : — I give it. Make your peace with 
 the Mogul Emperor, perform the conditions upon which he lately 
 granted you assistance against the foe, by giving him possession of 
 this fortress, only stipulating to retain the command of it as his 
 vassal." 
 
 Though Tartar Chan did not much relish the advice of the 
 sage, he nevertheless saw that he had no choice between com- 
 plying and capitulating to the E[indoos. He therefore despatched 
 a messenger, who succeeded in passing through the enemy's lines 
 as a fakeer — for those visionaries pass everywhere unmolested — 
 entreating the Emperor Babur to advance once more to his 
 assistance, and offering him full security for the performance of 
 the conditions upon which he solicited his aid. 
 
 About five weeks after the con^jultation just described, the gar- 
 rison was reduced to extreme distress, Their provisions were 
 diminished to such an incompetent supply that every person was 
 put upon a stated allowance of four ounces of rice per day. 
 Disease was already beginning the work of destruction, and there 
 appeared no chance of escaping the horrors of famine except by a 
 
 JNDIA. R
 
 348 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 speedy capitulation. The cries of lamentation were everywhere 
 heard, but no relief came. The prospect of the besieged was any- 
 thing but cheering ; with starvation on the one hand, and an 
 odious captivity on the other, they had only a choice of miseries, 
 unless aid should be obtained before the expiration of another week. 
 
 Tartar Chan did his best to soften the privations of the garrison ; 
 but as he could not fabricate grain, he could do little towards 
 hushing the doleful cries of suffering which everyAvhere met his 
 ears. The besiegers were so vigilant that they cut off all supplies, 
 and were determined to starve their enemies into a surrender. 
 
 One evening four horsemen were seen by the Rajah's scouts, 
 advancing towards Gualior. They were Moguls, and appeared to 
 be sturdy warriors, being v/ell-armed and well mounted. They 
 entered a thicket. 
 
 " Baba Shirzad," said the chief, " do you ride towards the fort 
 at your best speed, and endeavour to ascertain the strength of the 
 besieging force. We will await your return here, and act according 
 to circumstances. I like an achievement : the greater danger, 
 the more glory." 
 
 " I go," said the Mogul ; " but to my thinking you are poking 
 your nose into a wasp's nest, and you know how severely those 
 insects sting." 
 
 " But we must pluck out their sting, Baba, and then they'll only 
 be able to buzz." 
 
 " But in plucking out the sting we may chance to get a 
 puncture." 
 
 " Ha ! so much the better ; " 'twill be a spur to renown ; so 
 strike your heels into the flanks of your good Arab, and away." 
 
 Baba Shirzad did as he was commanded, and was lost in a 
 few seconds amid the gloom of the forest. 
 
 " Mir Shah," said the chief to another of his companions, " we 
 must prepare for blows. These idolators are grown savage at 
 their late defeats and fight desperately. We must relieve the 
 garrison in spite of Tartan Chan's late subterfuges. He'll be a 
 ■running governor if he outwits his betters a second time." 
 
 " Had we not better get into the plain ?" asked Mir Shr-h. " I
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 24i 
 
 don't like these strange thickets ; they are too favourable for sur- 
 prises, and my topographical knowledge of this quarter is not 
 considerable. Let us go \vhere we can see our horses's ears, fof 
 here we can exercise only one sense, and that the least important 
 of the five." 
 
 "Nay, do you mean to make four pass for a unit? You can 
 exercise all your senses in the dark, save the faculty of seeing, 
 and, my word for it, blindness is not always an evil. But let us 
 get into the plain if you will, and there await the return of Baba 
 Shirzad." 
 
 The Moguls had not long emerged from the wood, when, over- 
 come by the fatigue of their journey, they began to nod on their 
 saddles. They were, however, suddenly roused by a clattering of 
 hoofs, as of a horse at full speed, and presently Baba Shirzad 
 appeared coming towards them at a hard gallop. 
 
 " Fly !" said he ; " we are pursued by a large detachment of 
 the enemy ; they are close at my heels, and we have not a moment 
 for deliberation." 
 
 " Nay," said the chief, " the Mogul is not accustomed to fly 
 we must stand our ground at all risks." 
 
 '* But the enemy are at least a hundred and fifty men." 
 
 " The more the better ; throw them into confusion and they'll 
 cut one another's throats. 'Tis no easy matter to distinguish friends 
 from foes in the dark, and after a death or two they'll magnify 
 two brace of warriors into a host. Stand by me like brave men, 
 and I'll show you some sport worth witnessing." 
 
 By this time a considerable detachment of the enemy had ad- 
 vanced to within a hundred yards of the spot where the four 
 horsemen stood. The Moguls had separated, each taking up his 
 position with his back towards the wood, and shouting simultane- 
 ously, in order to lead the enemy to suppose they formed a small 
 squadron. The Hindoos reined up their horses, and immediately 
 ivinged a flight of arrows, calling upon their foes to surrender; 
 this was answered by a discharge of four shafts, which, beingr 
 directed with better aim, and against a large mass, did som( 
 execution.
 
 ft44 THE SIEGE OE GUALIOR. 
 
 The Hindoo chief was mounted upon a white charger, which 
 was a guide to the Moguls in what direction to shoot their arrows. 
 The four horsemen now uniting galloj^ed towards the enemy, and 
 when within ten yards of them, discharged their barbed reeds, 
 turned and retreated. This they repeated several times, until the 
 enemy, galled by these attacks, spurred forward in pursuit. The 
 Moguls again separated, and plunged into the neighbouring 
 thicket. The Hindoos being thus disunited rode onward in dis- 
 order, and frequently mistook one another for foes. Arrows were 
 occasionally shot from the wood, and not knowing whence the 
 mischief came, their confusion increased. In several instances 
 they rode each other down, the enemy meanwhile occasionally 
 shouting to delude them, and then instantly galloping to another 
 position. 
 
 This strange fight was continued for some time, until a number 
 of the idolators being slain, their leader ordered those Avho were 
 near him to halt, and after a while, with some difficulty he 
 mustered the rest of his detachment, nineteen of whom were 
 killed or missing. The night was too dark to allow of pursuing 
 the Moguls with any reasonable chance of securing them ; the 
 Hindoos therefore retraced their way slowly back to their camp 
 to prepare their comrades against surprise. 
 
 " Well," said the Mogul leader, as the enemy slowly retired, " I 
 told you we should multiply. Night is the best season in the 
 <vorld to enable the few to outdo the many. They'll have a rare 
 tale to tell when they get to their tents. They have left a few of 
 their companions behind them, whom they'll find cold enough 
 and not over fragrant in the morning. But it will not do for four 
 to stand against a hundred by daylight, we must therefore retire 
 towards the advancing forces. Within a week these worshippers 
 of dumb divinities shall quit yonder fortress or fight for it ; and 
 though the dogs are brave enough, yet they have no great skill at 
 warfaring." 
 
 " But what say you," asked Dost Nasir, " to their Rajpoots — 
 fellows that fight under a saffron robe till their throats are cut, 
 not indeed so much to their own satisfaction as to that of theil 
 slayers ?"
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 345 
 
 " Why, I say of their Rapoots, that they are brave just as a 
 vv^onian is when spirit has turned her brain. She'll then rave and 
 sputter in spite of stripes ; but when her fit of valour subsides, 
 her spirit becomes as puny as a lizard's. I never knew a really 
 brave man wantonly throw away his life. Excite a coward beyond 
 the boundary-line of his fears, and he foams and snaps like a mad 
 dog ; but fury is not valour." 
 
 "It may be," replied Dost Nasir; "but a Rajpoot's fury is a 
 nasty thing to come in contact with. And the rascals are so ready 
 in the use of their cimetars that they chop oft' heads as dex- 
 terously as your cooks decollate ortolans for a dainty feeder. I 
 never knew a fight tame where those yellow-robed warriors 
 appeared among the enemy's ranks." 
 
 " Well, if there be any among those adorers of chiselled stones 
 now before yonder town, you shall have an opportunity of seeing 
 that such drunken valour will not prevent our forces from obliging 
 them to slink back to their homes, or making a dunghill beneath 
 the walls of Gualior with the flesh of idol-worshippers." 
 
 While this conversation was going on, the four Moguls were 
 getting into the heart of the jungle, in order to obviate the pursuit 
 which they apprehended the enemy would commence on the mor- 
 row. Having deviated considerably from the regular travelling 
 route, and being unacquainted with the locality, they got into a 
 pathless forest. This was a dilemma from which they must use 
 their wits to be delivered, and with this prudent resolution they 
 cast themselves upon the protection of Him to whom the path of 
 the wilderness is as familiar as that of the populous country. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHEN the Moguls had got into the heart of the forest, 
 beyond the probable reach of pursuit, they halted, 
 picketed their horses in a small grassy glen, and casting them- 
 selves beneath the shelter of a leafy tree, threw their saddle-cloths 
 over their shoulders, and soon sank into profound repose. In the
 
 246 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 morning they rose and pursued their way. The chief was a broad« 
 shouldered man, above the middle height, exceedingly muscular, 
 with a handsome good-humoured countenance, somewhat rough- 
 ened by constant exposure to various changes of atmosphere. 
 His limbs were so sine^^'y, that it appeared as if ropes were twisted 
 round his bones, and covered with a skin as firm and flexible as 
 was requisite to compact such bones and muscles. He had a 
 large laughing eye, but so briUiant that, when the round animated 
 features subsided from their wonted joyousness into sudden 
 gravity, it seemed as if Its quick intense scrutiny could reach the 
 very depths of the soul. His mouth was small, and the lips 
 generally a httle protruded, giving an arch expression to his 
 features, that made the beholder think they were ever the home of 
 good-humour. His head was somewhat diminutive, or rather it 
 appeared so in consequence of the prodigious size of his neck, 
 which was perfectly Atlantean. It was bare to his shoulders, and 
 showed a capacity of strength almost superhuman. He mounted 
 his horse with a bound as light as that of the grasshopper; and 
 his steed, a noble Persian charger, was evidently proud of its 
 burthen. His companions were fine men, but utterly insignicant 
 by the side of their chief. 
 
 As they proceeded, the ground became swampy and anything 
 but agreeable for travelling. They at length reached the banks of 
 a considerable stream, upon which a number of fowlers were exer- 
 cising the various artifices of their craft. It was an unusual, and 
 therefore an interesting sight to the strangers. The country 
 abounded with water-fowl which were very fat, and there was a good 
 vent for them in the neighbouring villages and at a town some 
 distance down the stream. A large kind of heron congregated 
 here in immense flocks ; but the choice bird was the khawasil, a 
 fowl in great request, because it was extremely rare. The Moguls 
 were interested by the manner of catching these birds, which was 
 as follows : — " The fowler spun a thin sliding springe, about an 
 arrow's flight long, and to the one end of this cord fixed a double- 
 pointed arrow, while on the other end of it he fastened a cross 
 handle of honi. He then took a stick of the thickness of the
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 247 
 
 wrist, and a span in length, and commencing at the arrow, wound up 
 the cord until it was all wound on ; after which he made fast the 
 horn handle, and pulled out the stick of the thickness of the wrist, 
 on which the cord had been wound, the cord remaining wound up 
 and hollow. Taking a firm hold of the horn handle, he threw the 
 dart, having the cord attached to it, at any fowl that came near. 
 If it fell on the neck or wings of the bird, it immediately twisted 
 round it and brought it down. 
 
 All the people on the Baran catch birds in this manner, but it 
 is extremely difficult and unpleasant, as it must be practised on dark 
 and rainy nights ; for on such nights, for fear of the ravenous 
 animals and beasts of prey, they fly about constantly all night long, 
 never resting till the morning ; and at such times they fly low. In 
 dark nights they keep flying over the running water, as it appears 
 bright and white ; and it is at such times, when from fear they fly 
 up and down above the streams all night long, that the fowlers cast 
 their cords."* The chief of the Moguls, struck with the ingenious 
 mode of taking these birds, attempted to cast the snare ; but with 
 all his skill in the use of weapons of war, at which he was singularly 
 expert, he could not manage to secure a single bird. 
 
 A little further down the river, a singular mode of taking fish 
 excited the travellers' attention. " In a place where the water fell 
 from a height, the fishermen had dug out pits about the size of a 
 house, and laying them -with stones in the form of the lower part 
 of a cooking furnace, they had heaped on stones above the pits, 
 leaving only one passage for the water to descend ; they had piled 
 up the stones in such a manner that, except by this single passage, 
 there was no other for the fish either to come or go. The water 
 of the stream finding its way through these stones, this contrivance 
 answered the purpose of a fishpool. In winter, whenever fish 
 were required, they opened one of these pits and took out forty or 
 fifty fish at a time. In some convenient place of the pit, an 
 
 * See Memoirs of Zehir-ed-Din, Mahoramed Babur, Emperor of Ilindostan, 
 written by himself in the Jaghatai Turki, and translated partly by the late 
 \o\iVi Leyden, M.D., partly by William Erskine, Esq., pp. 1.53-4.
 
 «48 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR 
 
 opening was formed, and excepting at that outlet, all the sides of 
 it were secured with rice straw, over which stones were piled up. 
 At the opening was fastened a kind of wicker-work like a net ; the 
 two extremities being contracted were brought near each other. 
 In the middle of this first wicker-net was fixed another piece of 
 svicker net-work, in such a way that the mouth of this last might 
 correspond with that of the other, but its whole length be only 
 about half of that of the one first mentioned. The mouth of this 
 inner net-work was made very narrow. Whatever entered, passed 
 of necessity into the larger wicker-net, the lower part of which was 
 so constructed that no fish could escape back. The lower part of 
 the mouth of the inner wicker-net was so formed, that when fish 
 had once entered the upper part, they were forced to proceed one 
 by one down to the lower part of its mouth. The sharpened sticks 
 forming the lower part of the mouth were brought close together : 
 whatever passed this mouth came into the larger wicker-net, the 
 lower passage of which was strongly secured, so that the fish could 
 not escape ; for if it happened to turn and attempt to swim back, 
 it could not get up in consequence of the sharpened prongs that 
 formed the lower mouth of the small inner wicker-net. Every time 
 the fishermen bring their nets, they fasten them on the water-course 
 of the fishpool, and then take off the covering of the fishpool, 
 leaving all its sides secured by the rice straw. Whatever they 
 can lay hold of in the hollow pit they seize, while every fish 
 that attempts to escape by the only issue left, necessarily comes 
 into the wicker-net that has been mentioned, and is taken 
 there."* 
 
 The Mogul chief entered familiarly into conversation with the 
 fishermen, who, being from among the lowest caste of Hindoci, 
 had no great scruple at entering into conversation with Ma- 
 homedans. 
 
 " Have you plenty of game in these jungles ?" asked the 
 Mogul. 
 
 " Enof igh of that, but it is no easy matter to come at it j for 
 
 Babur's Memoirs, p. 155.
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 849 
 
 there are numbers of animals to share it, which don't hesitate at 
 laying their armed paws upon intruders." 
 
 " But a man ought at any time to be a match for a brute.** 
 
 "Your brutes, master, are rough subjects to deal with. 'Tis 
 well enough when you can snare and knock their brains out with- 
 out hazard, but, to my mind, 'tis a madman's venture to stand 
 against a wild beast, when, if you are killed, 'tis an ignoble death, 
 and if you come off best, you get but a sorry reputation for your 
 valour ; for valour without discretion is a ragged sort of virtue, 
 and we fishermen pride ourselves upon showing more of the 
 latter than of the former ; if one hadn't more discretion than 
 valour, fishing would be but a beggarly craft, and as it is we can't 
 manage to get rich." 
 
 " What animals most prevail in these woods ?" 
 
 " Why there's a tolerable sprinkling of tigers, and hogs in 
 abundance; but the greatest nuisance in these parts is a rhino- 
 ceros that often comes upon the banks of the river, and does us 
 terrible damage. I wish some bold champion would make a feast 
 of him for the vultures, and he would render us a very laudable 
 service." 
 
 " But do you never make any effort to destroy such a clumsy 
 enemy ? Man ought not to allow a beast to get the better of him. 
 Reason should be a more successful weapon than simple animal 
 strength, and he who fails to use his own with advantage against 
 mere instinctive ferocity, is hardly a gradation above the brute." 
 
 " This is all very well when you are out of sight of tigers and 
 those clawed or horned foes, which make no more of dieting upon 
 a horse or knocking down a buffalo, than I should do of setting 
 my heel upon the head of a little fish ; but it is quite a different 
 thing when these inhabitants of the woods walk out of some 
 thicket, and bid you an unexpected good morrow. It is a maxim 
 with us fishermen to keep as much as possible out of the way of all 
 surly quadrupeds ; we leave the glory of vanquishing them to wiser 
 heads and abler bodies. We seek no victory over the tenants of 
 the forest, but are satisfied with a conquest over the more gentle 
 occupants of the water,"
 
 250 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 "Can you say where the rhinoceros you spoke of was last 
 seen ?" 
 
 " He is said to be generally found near a dell not far from the 
 entrance of the jungle." 
 
 " There are two gold mohurs, if you will come and point out 
 the spot." Saying this, the Mogul flung down two golden pieces 
 at the fisherman's feet. 
 
 " I am ready," said the man, " even to risk my life for such a 
 boon as this ; it is more than a month's fishing would produce ; I 
 am your servant for as long a time as you may need my servdces 
 to-day ; to-morrow I must be again my own master, unless the 
 forest savage should impale me alive, or trample me to death for 
 my good-will in showing you his haunt." 
 
 The horsemen proceeded towards the cover, accompanied by 
 the Hindoo, who trotted along by the side of their chiefs charger. 
 He was a small but amazingly active man, something past the 
 middle age, and a shrewd, wary person. As they passed through 
 a piece of ground in which the grass was up to their horses' 
 haunches, a hog started from a thick tuft, and scampered over the 
 field with the speed of a stag. Baba Shirzad, who happened to 
 be nearest, strung his bow in a moment, and winging an arrow at 
 the poor beast, buried the shaft in its body. The hog rolled over 
 upon its back, and died after a few violent struggles. 
 
 "Agood hit, Baba," cried the chief; "that arrow was pulled 
 home, and althougn lodged under a pig's hide, does no discred>' 
 to a soldier's aim. I long to try my reed at a mark, or my arm 
 against a foe. Let your shafts fly as truly against yonder besiegers 
 when we next meet. them, and they will have good cause to repent 
 that they ever pitched their tents before Gualior." 
 
 " I shall try my best," said Baba Shirzad, v/ith a smile, that 
 showed he was not a little flattered at the observation of his com- 
 lade, who was known never to praise upon slight grounds : " I 
 would fain draw blood from something better worth an arrow's 
 point than a filthy swine." 
 
 " Nay, a chine is no bad thing in the jungle, where even berries 
 are sometimes scarce, and when the appetite is at a climax ; for
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 251 
 
 though the Koran inhibits pork, yet hunger is a most religious 
 apology for violating the interdiction. The Prophet never intended 
 that a starving man should lick his thumbs for a meal, when hog'i 
 flesh was to be had at the expense of a barbed reed. The hog is 
 fat ; come, Baba, take a slice or two from its haunches that we 
 may break a too long fast." 
 
 Baba Shirzad dismounted; a few fine steaks were cut from 
 the boar's body with the broad blade of his creese, a fire was 
 kindled, and a dish of keibobs speedily prepared. Having de- 
 spatched this summary meal, in which their guide declined par- 
 ticipating, they remounted their steeds, and proceeding towards 
 the thicket, prepared to attack the rhinoceros should he cross 
 their path. 
 
 Upon gaining the skirts of a very close cover, a buffalo Avas seen 
 bounding over the plain with amazing speed, its head almost 
 between its knees, and its tail in the air, exhibiting tokens of 
 furious animosity. 
 
 As the creature approached, the earth flew from its heels like 
 fragments after an explosion. It snorted — its eyes glared, it 
 plunged, and on reaching the horsemen, made a rush towards the 
 foremost with its head nearly bent to the ground, and its back 
 curved like a crescent. The Mogul chief moved his steed actively 
 on one side, and the maddened buffalo passed him in the impC' 
 tuosity of its career with the speed of a dart. He immediately 
 wheeled round, so did the buffalo, and repeated its charge. The 
 Mogul, raising himself in his stirrups, lifted his heavy Damascus 
 cimetar, turned his horse again as the animal charged, and stoop- 
 ing suddenly, brought upon the horns of the furious beast his 
 ponderous weapon, which cut sheer through them, and Avas deeply 
 buried in its neck. The buffalo rolled dead upon the plain. The 
 head was nearly severed from its body. The fisherman looked on 
 with amazement. 
 
 " In truth, master," said he, " I think the hide of a rhinoceros 
 would hardly stand against such a stroke. Yours must be a rare 
 arm for hewing down foes. I 'd rather be your friend than your 
 enemy. If you could contrive to give the mailed forester such a
 
 252 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 thump upon a spot where your sword might enter, I wouldn't give 
 a fish's eye for its Hfe." 
 
 " I shall see what is to be done if you can only show me the 
 game. There's more in the will than in the stroke. A coward, 
 had he the strength of your war god, and were armed with Vish- 
 noo's chackra, would not be able to slay a cat that raised its paw 
 against him." 
 
 " But what could the valour of Hanuman* avail with a puny 
 arm ? The mere will can never accomplish the deed. Courage 
 should be cased in a strong frame, with firm bones and tough 
 sinews, else 'tis like putting gems in tinsel — a precious commodity 
 in a worthless outside." 
 
 The carcase of the buffalo was now left to welter on the plain, 
 a feast for crows and vultures, and finally for pismires, which 
 picked its bones as bare as a scraped radish long before sunset. 
 The horsemen proceeded with all despatch into the thicket, where 
 they hoped to meet with the sullen tyrant of the wood, to whose 
 fierce strength the elephant has often yielded up its life in a clumsy 
 but desperate conflict. 
 
 The growth of the forest, a short distance beyond the skirts, 
 was very thin, having been cleared in some spots, and in others 
 enclosing small savannas formed by the marshy nature of the soil, 
 which was low and in places excessively swampy. They at length 
 gradually ascended into drier ground, where the growth of the 
 underwood was thicker, and the fisherman almost immediately 
 pointed out the spot where the rhinoceros was said to be frequently 
 seen. 
 
 " Upon turning yonder angle," said he, " you will enter a small 
 defile, flanked on one side by a rocky barrier, and on the other by 
 a grove of lofty trees. I shall take leave to wish you a happy 
 deliverance should you come upon the brute, which is, to my 
 thinking, likely to afford you grave pastime." 
 
 The horsemen rode forward, and on turning the angle pointed 
 
 * Hanuman was a hugfi ape, but a distingi.nshed general in the wars pf the 
 amayana, 
 
 Ramayana
 
 THB. SIEGk OP GVAt.lOR. 2S3 
 
 Out by the fisherman, the rhinoceros appeared, feeding at the fur- 
 ther extremity of the glen. Upon seeing the intruders he raised 
 his head, bent back his ears, and stamped his foot violently against 
 the ground, as if peremptorily prohibiting their advance. Their 
 bows were already strung, and fixing each an arrow in the string, 
 they discharged them simultaneously at the huge beast. Three of 
 the shafts fell blunted from his side as if they had struck against a 
 wall of granite, rebounding to a distance of several yards ; but 
 the arrow of the chief, directed with a more vigorous arm and a 
 surer aim, struck the sturdy animal near the right ear and remained 
 fixed. 
 
 Infuriated by the pain, the rhinoceros bounded forward with 
 surprising agility, receiving another discharge from the horsemen, 
 only one of which told, striking nearly in the same spot, and 
 augmenting the creature's fury. Mir Shah happened to be nearest, 
 and before he could turn his horse, the exasperated enemy struck 
 it with its horn in the side, raised it in the air and flung it over 
 its head. In his rapid transit, Mir Shah luckily caught the branch 
 of a tree which hung over the spot, and disengaging his legs from 
 the stirrups, escaped the fate of his favourite charger, which lay 
 dead upon the ground with a hideous gash opened into its body. 
 
 The rhinoceros did not pause, but rushed towards the next 
 horse ; the terrified creature turned and made off with all speed, 
 in spite of the efforts of its rider to restrain it. The steed of Baba 
 Shirzad followed its example, and both dashed through the jungle, 
 quickly unseating their riders, who were swept from their saddles 
 by branches of trees which spread across the narrow and imperfect 
 pathway. The Mogul leader, meanwhile, had dismounted from 
 his charger, and casting the reins upon its neck, the animal dashed 
 in terror through the jungle. 
 
 The bold warrior, now left alone in the defile, shot two arrows 
 in quick succession at the fierce beast, which was in full pursuit 
 of his comrades. This unlocked for assault caused it to turn 
 and advance to the attack of its dismounted antagonist. The 
 Mogul placed himself behind the trunk of a large tree, and the 
 rhinoceros approaching in full career, in the wantonness ot its
 
 25 J THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 rage struck its horn into the trunk with such force that it remained 
 fixed tliere for several seconds. The moment was critical. Its 
 eye was gleaming with rage. The Mogul drew the feather of an 
 arrow to his shoulder, and sent the shaft with prodigious strength 
 into the socket of that glaring orb. It passed with irresistible 
 force into the brain of the ponderous brute, which fell dead with 
 a stifled grunt upon the earth. Having joined his companions, 
 who were a good deal bruised, but not seriously injured by theii 
 falls, they soon recovered their horses, skinned the dead enemy, 
 and continued merrily on their way. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 TARTAR CHAN was anxiously expecting a reply to his mes- 
 senger from the Mogul Emperor, Famine was already 
 raging within the walls of Gualior, and there was yet no prospect 
 of relief The lamentations of the sufferers were every moment 
 becoming louder and more fearful. The Governor was taxed 
 as the cause of all their misery in not having given up the fort to 
 the Mogul general as originally stipulated. From reprehensions 
 they proceeded to threats, and at length Tartar Chan began to 
 fear for his personal safety. In his perplexity he sought Sheikh 
 Mahomed, to ask his advice under circumstances of unusual 
 difficulty. 
 
 •*' We had better die starving," said the sage, " than capitulate to 
 enemies who will visit us with an equally painful death. If we 
 tamely submit to their yoke, we shall perish in ignominy ; but if 
 we die free within these walls, we shall at least expire with honour." 
 
 " But disease and famine are raging in different quarters, and 
 the enraged populace threaten my life." 
 
 " I will go and appease them. There has been scarcely yet 
 time for an answer to your embassy. I will persuade them to wait 
 with patience another day or two, within which interval I have no 
 doubt an answer will be returned. If favourable, we can have no
 
 THE S/EGE OF GUALIOK. 255 
 
 cause for apprehension ; if adverse, it will be then time enough to 
 adopt desperate measures." 
 
 Sheikh Mahomed went into the bazaar and harangued the 
 inhabitants. He was revered by them as a propliet, and they 
 listened to his voice as to a revelation from Heaven. They yielded 
 to his entreaties, they hushed their cries, and consented to abide 
 the issue of their governor's message to the Mogul potentate. 
 
 That very night the watchword was heard at the gate ; the 
 messenger was admitted, and with him a party bearing a supply of 
 provisions. They had evaded the enemy's picket by a secret 
 path unknown to the Hindoos. Twelve camels loaded with rice 
 entered the fort amid the shouts of the starving garrison, and the 
 welcome information came that an army was on its way to relieve 
 them, and might be expected within twenty-four hours. This 
 intelligence so gladdened the hearts of the despairing inhabitants, 
 that instead of the wailings of despair, shouts of rejoicing were 
 heard from every part of the fortress. The enemy knew not how 
 to account for this sudden change. They had been made acquainted 
 with the sufferings of the besieged, and were every moment ex- 
 pecting that the latter would capitulate without proposing terms, 
 which the Hindoo general had determined to refuse. The con- 
 clusion they came to was, that it was a feint to throw them oft 
 their guard ; but they treated with contempt the idea of a few 
 starving soldiers attempting anything against a numerous army, 
 provided with everything necessary, and commanded by a leader 
 of reputation. They derided therefore the rejoicings of the 
 besieged, and slumbered that night in perfect security. 
 
 On that very night, however, at the suggestion of Sheikh 
 Mahomed, Tartar Chan determined upon making a sortie at the 
 head of a chosen body of his bravest soldiers, now elated to the 
 nighest pitch of enthusiasm at so near a prospect of relief. Their 
 enemies never for an instant imagined that such a measure would 
 De resorted to, knowing how greatly the garrison was reduced by 
 famine, and supposing, therefore, that the soldiers could not be in 
 a condition to hazard a personal encounter Avith a vigorous and 
 numerous body of troops. The night was dark, the wind gusty,
 
 «5^ TUB SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 wliich was rather favourable for such an enterprise as Tartar Chari 
 contemplated, since the approach of his detachment to the hostilt 
 camp would be less likely to be detected before they should reach 
 their destination. An hour past midnight was the period fixed, 
 when it was imagined the Hindoo army would be the least appre- 
 hensive of an attack from a weakened and starving garrison. 
 
 The soldiers selected for the enterprise were assembled shortly 
 after midnight, quitted the gates in silence, and marched stealthily 
 towards the camp. As they approached they were hailed by the 
 sentinel, who was instantly shot dead with an arrow. Proceeding 
 noiselessly onward, the hail of a second sentinel was answered in 
 a similar manner. No alarm was yet given. They were within 
 a hundred yards of the enemy's lines, when their approach was 
 observed, and a shout raised. The Hindoo soldiers, starting 
 from their sleep, issued from their tents, many of them unarmed, 
 and others with only a dagger or a short sabre. The besieged 
 rushed forward to the tents of the besiegers, creating a dreadful 
 panic. They had divided into small bodies, and were known to 
 each other by a long white floating streamer which each wore 
 attached to the left side of his turban, and which there was sufii- 
 cient light to distinguish. 
 
 The Hindoos soon assembled in such numbers that they incom- 
 moded each other, and thus the greatest confusion prevailed. 
 They could not perceive their foes, who made a dreadful slaughter 
 among them during the panic by which they were overcome. 
 Seeing not whence the stroke of death came, they frequently mis- 
 took one another for enemies, and inflicted mutual destruction. 
 The groans of the dying mingled with the shouts of the assailants 
 in every part of the camp. The carnage was appalling. Several 
 elephants, picketed within the lines, were let loose by the garrison, 
 who pricked them with their spears until they became mfuriated, 
 and plunged among the tents, adding to the general consternation. 
 Hundreds of persons were trodden to death by these affrighted 
 creatures, which rushed onward with an impetuosity that nothing 
 could resist. Morning dawned before the work of carnage had 
 ceased, when Tartar Chan and his bold followers, satisfied at their
 
 tHE SIEGE OF GUALIOIt- 257 
 
 success, returned to the fortress with the loss of only fifteen 
 men. 
 
 On tke following day shouts of triumph were heard from the 
 walls of Gaalior. A great number of oxen and sheep had been 
 driven into the fort during the struggle of the preceding night, and 
 a large quantity of rice secured. The inhabitants were now as 
 much elated as they had before been depressed. The prospect ot 
 speedy relief from the Mogul army, and the present unlooked-foi 
 supply of provisions, stilled their murmurs ; and the governor's 
 success in his late enterprise reconciled them to his former breach 
 of faith with a generous ally. Those houses in which famine had 
 alreadj'' begun to deposit her prey, were cleared of their dead, 
 fumigated, and the enlivening hopes produced by such a sudden 
 reverse of fortune, so neutralised the effects of disease, that many 
 who were sick arose from their beds and were restored to com- 
 parative health within a few hours. 
 
 Tartar Chan already began to repent that he had sought the 
 assistance of the Moguls. Seeing how easily he had made an im- 
 pression upon the hostile forces, he was disposed to tliink that by 
 judicious night attacks he might with his own forces oblige them to 
 raise the siege ; but he did not calculate the difference between an 
 enemy prepared and an enemy off their guard. Another such an 
 enterprise must have failed. Tartar Chan, though a brave, was a 
 vain and stubborn man, full of ambition and without integrity. He 
 could not bear to think of giving up the fortress to his allies, and 
 holding it in fealty under a prince who was not in the habit of 
 allowing his vassals or feudatories the privilege of independence. 
 He had been relieved from present embarrassm, it, and his pre- 
 tensions rose in proportion. It was a hard thing to relinquisl' 
 authority which he had struggled so hard to maintain, or at leasV 
 to have itVabridged by the influence of greater. 
 
 There was one difficulty : he knew it to be the prevailing feeling 
 of the garrison, that in case the enemy were obliged to raise the 
 siege by the Mogul artay, the fortress should be put into the im- 
 mediate possession of their general. Babur's government was 
 popular, and he .was dreaded by all the neighbouring polcntates. 
 
 INDIA. s
 
 fis8 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 His renown as a warrior filled the nations with awe. His alliance 
 was a blessing — his hostility a bane. The governor of Gwalior 
 sought Sheikh Mahomed, as usual, in his difiiculties. 
 
 " Well, Sheikh," said he, " I think we have been rash in so 
 hastily soliciting aid when we might have accomplished with our 
 own arms what we seek for from those of our allies." 
 
 " Then why have you not done it ? You grow presumptuous 
 from temporary good fortune ; but, rely upon it, if you do not take 
 heed, the success of a moment will act as a spark upon gunpowder, 
 and produce an explosion that shall spread ruiii around you. An 
 act of bad faith can find no excuse ; it seldom remains unpunished 
 sooner or later. Take my word for it, that without speedy aid from 
 the Moguls you must fall under the domination of Hindoos, who 
 towards Mahomedans, are the worst of tyrants." 
 
 " But what is life worth if we are obliged to give up all that 
 renders it desirable ! I must relinquish my government, and I 
 would rather die than do that." 
 
 " You should have come to this conclusion before you despatched 
 a messenger for assistance in your extremity. You are bound by 
 solemn engagements, and it is too late to retract. Besides, your 
 personal advantages should weigh but as a feather against the 
 general interest. The lives of those you govern are dear to them, 
 so are their liberties ; and you can have no moral right to put 
 these in jeopardy ; for as sure as to-morrow's sun shall rise, if you 
 attempt to break your faith a second time with those who are 
 coming to your relief, your ruin will be the consequence, ivA you 
 will perhaps involve many innocent persons in your own destruc- 
 tion. I have spoken boldly. You know that I am not one to fix 
 my opinions rashly; when once fixed, therefore, they are not 
 readily diverted. Act the part of a just man, as you did last 
 night that of a brave one, and you may look confidently for your 
 reward ; but, I repeat it, a second breach of faith will terminate in 
 your doom." 
 
 The governor was exceedingly mortified at the result of this in- 
 terview. Sheikh Mahomed was too much respected by the gar- 
 rison to render it safe to treat him with indignity ; Tartar Chan
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 259 
 
 therefore quitted his presence with angry feehngs which he did not 
 think it prudent to express. He resolved, however, not to be 
 guided by the counsel of the sage, notwithstanding the celebrity he 
 had obtained for his gift of foreknowledge. No man, he argued, 
 is infallible, and the Sheikh may happen to be wrong for once ; at 
 least the governor was determined to think so, and to act upon 
 this rash assumption, in spite of consequences. 
 
 Having sounded several of his officers, he found two or three 
 among them who readily concurred in his views, though the ma- 
 jority were decidedly opposed to them. Making therefore his 
 determination known but to those on whose fidelity he thought he 
 could rely, he awaited patiently the advance of the Mogul forces, 
 whom he determined to render subservient to his purposes and 
 then dismiss without reward. He had an idea that he could 
 obviate any future molestation from the Hindoo arms by calling 
 in the aid of some of his Afghan neighbours, who render their 
 assistance with much humbler expectations than the Moguls. 
 Under these impressions, and actuated by these sinister resolu- 
 tions, he assembled his soldiers, and gave his orders how they 
 were to act in concert with the Moguls, so soon as the latter 
 should come to the relief of Gualior. He commanded a body of 
 his bravest men to issue from the gate of the town, and, while the 
 enemy were engaged with his allies, secure all the provisions they 
 could find in the hostile camp. He gave the command of this 
 detachment to a spirited officer, upon whom he could rely, and 
 looked forward with confidence to success. 
 
 Sheikh Mahomed was not blind to what was passing in the 
 governor's mind ; he knew his craft and resolved to counteract it. 
 Affecting perfect confidence in Tartar Chan's integrity, the latter 
 was thrown off his guard, and his intentions made sufficiently 
 evident to the sage to justify the plan he intended to pursue 
 Two days after the late nocturnal encounter with the enemy, the 
 Mogul forces arrived to the relief of Gualior. 
 
 There was an evident bustle in the Hindoo camp. The ad- 
 vancing army was led by the chief who had so lately distinguished 
 himself in the junijle by killing a rhinoceros. This feat of prowess 
 
 i> a
 
 «6o THE SIEGE OF GVALIOR, 
 
 had reached the ears of the idolaters, and they were prepared for 
 a desperate conflict. Their forces outnumbered those of their 
 enemies by several thousands, but they were greatly inferior in 
 discipline; they had, however, among them a body of Rajpoots, 
 A'hich gave them confidence, as those troops have always been 
 iistinguished by their headlong and indomitable valour. The 
 shouts of exultation from the town and fort were heard with feel- 
 ings of deep vexation within the hostile lines ; but there was no 
 time for the encouragement of petty feelings with so formidable 
 an enemy at their backs. 
 
 The Moguls pitched their camp almost in sight of the Hindoo 
 army, and immediately advanced to the attack. Baba Shirzad, 
 Mir Shah, and Dost Nasir, had severally commands under their 
 brave chief, who took post in the centre. 
 
 Shortly after daybreak, the Mahomedans advanced in order of 
 battle. The Hindoos were drawn out to receive them, their line 
 extending to a great length, curving in the form of a crescent, as 
 if to enclose their foes, whom they greatly outnumbered. The 
 Rajpoots were placed in the centre, which was strengthened by 
 the leader of the idolators with his best troops. The battle com- 
 menced with terrible impetuosity on the part of the Moguls, their 
 charge being received by the foe with great steadiness. The 
 Rajpoots bore the brunt of the shock, and the line did not waver. 
 The Mogul leader fought with an energy that astonished his foes. 
 He killed no less than six Rajpoots, to whom he had been opposed 
 hand to hand. Still no sensible impression was made upon the 
 Hindoo line. 
 
 The troops under command of Dost Nasir had been thrown 
 into confusion by the severe charge of the enemy's horse, a large 
 and well appointed body. At this moment the horns of the 
 crescent were seen gradually closing to encompass the Mahomedan 
 army. Their leader, perceiving that the crisis had arrived, dashed 
 his turban from his brow, and shaking his thick black locks over 
 his shoulders, called aloud upon the Prophet, and with the cry of 
 Allah Akbur, charged the centre of the enemy's line with irre- 
 sistible impetuosity. The shock immediately arrested the advance
 
 THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 261 
 
 of the wings. The line wavered, the Rajpoots could not stand 
 against the impetuosity of the charge — they gave way— instant 
 confusion followed. At this moment a body of Tartar Chan's 
 troops issued from the town, and attacking the foe in their rear, 
 completed the rout ; they fled on all sides, and abandoned their 
 camp to the victors. The battle had been short but decisive. 
 Immense quantities of provisions were found in the Hindoo camp, 
 which were removed to the town and fort amid the acclamations of 
 the inhabitants and of the garrison. 
 
 Tartar Chan immediately sent a messenger to acknowledge the 
 timely assistance of the Moguls, but said not a word of putting 
 Gualior into their possession. 
 
 The morning after the Hindoo general had raised the siege, the 
 Mogul chief sent to Tartar Chan to demand a fulfilment of the 
 conditions upon which he had repaired to the relief of Gualior. 
 For a day or two, he was amused with frivolous excuses, and then 
 a peremptory refusal was given to resign the town and fort into 
 his possession. 
 
 Meanwhile Sheikh Mahomed, disgusted at the governor's base- 
 ness, sent a private messenger to the Mogul general to say, that if he 
 would trust himself singly within the fort, he would engage to find 
 means of introducing his troops, and of shortly putting the town 
 and fortress of Gualior into his hands. The Mogul accordingly 
 affected to receive the refusal of Tartar Chan in a friendly manner, 
 leading him to suppose that he was prepared to relinquish his 
 claim ; but represented to him that, as the enemy might muster in 
 stionger force and return, it was desirable he should be allowed to 
 bring his troops under the protection of the fortress. He further 
 requested as an especial favour, that he might be permitted to 
 visit the learned Sheikh Mahomed, of whose reputation he had 
 heard so much, in order that he might tender him the homage of 
 his admiration. Both these requests were acceded to without 
 scruple; the governor having no suspicion that mischief could 
 accrue from admitting a single warrior within tlie fort, so well 
 guarded by the vigilance of a brave and active garrison. 
 
 During the Mogul's visit to tlie sage, who liad provided a liberal
 
 26a THE SIEGE OF GUALIOR. 
 
 entertainment, to which several officers of the garrison were invited, 
 he sent word to the governor from time to time, requesting per- 
 mission for such and sucu officers to be admitted also, until at 
 length Tartar Chan desired the commander of the guard to r 
 his own discretion in admitting whom he chose, conceiving him- 
 self secure in his fidelity. That officer, being a disciple cf the 
 philosopher and privy to the plot, availed himself of this order to 
 permit anybody the Mogul wished to pass in, till at length a con- 
 siderable body of resolute warriors were within the wall before the 
 entertainment was ended* The fort thus fell easily into possession 
 of the Moguls without bloodshed. The governor was summoned 
 before their general. 
 
 " Traitor," said the latter, " know that you stand in the pre- 
 sence of Babur Padshah, Emperor of the Moguls. Follow me to 
 the ramparts !" 
 
 Having reached the battlements, accompanied by several of 
 his own officers, the Emperor said, " What does your faithlessness 
 deserve ?" 
 
 " The pity of a conqueror," replied Tartar Chan. 
 
 " Princes have a solemn duty to perform in ridding the world 
 of those who deserve not to live. Your doom is sealed." Saying 
 which, Babur seized tbe trembling governor by the cummerbund, 
 raised him from the ground as if he had been an infant, and flung 
 him over the battlements.f 
 
 * See Brigg's Ferishta, vol. ii. p. 52. 
 
 t Babur's strength is said to have been prodigious ; as a proof of which it 
 is related, that "he used to leap from one pinnacle to another of the pinnated 
 ramparts u«ed in the East, in his double-soled boots, and that he even fre- 
 quently took a man under each arm and went leaping along the rampart from 
 one of the poiuted pinnacles to another." — See Me?noirs of Babur, p. 430.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 ^^^S- 937 (1531)- — Humayoon succeeded, on the death of his father, to 
 die throne of Delhi. 
 
 Ilcg. 938 (1532). — He defeated the Afghans at Juanpore. 
 
 Heg. 940 (1533). — Humayoon caused a citadel to be built at Delhi, on thd 
 banks of the Jumna, to which he gave the name of Deen Puna, the asylum of 
 the faithful, after which he marched towards Samngpoor, in Malwa. 
 
 Heg. 941 (1534). — Banadur Shah threw himself into Mando, which was 
 invested by the Moguls, who, after a few days, escaladed the walls, and, 
 though the garrison consisted of several thousand men, it fell into their hands. 
 The King also made himself master of the citadel of Champanerc. T^Iaving 
 caused a number of steel spikes to be made, while the garrison was withdrawn 
 from a part of the fortress deemed inaccessible, he caused the steel spikes to 
 be fixed in the scarp of the rock, by which means himself and thirty-nine 
 officers ascended. The whole garrison was put to the sword, but the governor, 
 who had bravely defended the place, obtained honourable terms. The wealth 
 found here was so great, that Humayoon gave to his officers and soldiers 
 as much gold, silver, and jewels as could be heaped upon their respective 
 shields, proportioning the value to their rank and merit. 
 
 Heg. 943 (1536). — The King laid siege to the fort of Chunar, which held 
 out for six months, but was eventually taken by a device of Roomy Chan. He 
 erected stages of a certain height, placed upon rafts, which, being built at some 
 distance above the fort, were launched and floated down without resistance. 
 The walls being low, they were easily surmounted, and the place was thus 
 secured. 
 
 Heg. 946 (1539). — Humayoon being surprised by Sheer Chan on the banks 
 of the Ganges, was obliged to make his escape across the river. On this 
 occasion, it is said that eight thousand Moguls, exclusive of Hindoos, were 
 drowned, among whom was the Prince Mahomed Zuman Mirza. The King 
 owed his life to one Nizam, a water-carrier, who with great difficulty swam 
 beside him across the river, and was among the few who survived the slaughter 
 of that eventful day. 
 
 ^^S- 947 (1540)- — Humayoon was attacked by Sheer Chan, and sustained 
 another signal defeat. The King was obliged to fly, and, after enduring 
 •inheard-of miseries, reached Amurkote with a few attendants onlv.
 
 364 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 ileg. 949 (1542). — The Queen Banoo Begum gave birth to Prince Akbar. 
 Humayoon, finally took refuge in the capital of Seestan, where he was 
 hospitably received by the governor on the part of Shah Taaiasp, King 0/ 
 Persia. Upon Humayoon's flight, Sheer Shah Soor ascended the throne. 
 
 •Heg. 950 (1543). — Sheer Shah laid siege to the fort of Raisein. The siege 
 X'a'-. protracted for many months, but, upon the governor capitulating, the 
 garrison were permitted to march out with their arms and property. 
 
 Ileg. 951 (1544). — The King marched against the fort of Chittore, which 
 surrendered by capitulation. He then marched towards Kaluxj-jr, one of the 
 strongest forts in Hindostan. During the siege, a shell, thrown against the 
 '"ort, burst in a battery, close by the King, and igniting a powder magazine 
 .vhich had not been properly secured. Sheer Shah, and a number of gunners, 
 were blown up, together with several chiefs, who were carried 'o their tents as 
 dead. The King, though he breathed with great pain, gave orders for the 
 attack to be continued, and, in the evening, news being brought to him that 
 'he place had been reduced by his troops, he cried out, "Thanks to the 
 iMmighty God !" and expired. He was succeeded by his younger son, Julal 
 Chan, who assumed the title of Islam Shah, corrupted to Sulim Shah. 
 
 lleg. 953 (1546). — Sulim Shah narrowly escaped death from a daring attempt 
 of Syced Chan. 
 
 Heg. 955 (1548). — The King slew an assassin who attempted his life in the 
 mountahi of Mankote. 
 
 ■tieg. 957 (1550).— Khowas Chan, a chief justly renowned for his gi-eat 
 abilities in war, having revolted, was assassinated by Taj Chan, in order to 
 recommend himself to the King. 
 
 Heg. 960 (1553). — Svdim Shah died after a reign of nine years. lie was 
 succeeded by his brother-in-law, who put the Prince Feroze to death, and 
 usurped the throne. 
 
 Heg. 961 (1553). — Mahomed Shah was attacked by a young noble in the 
 audience chamber, and narrowly escaped with his life. The daring youth who 
 bad assaulted him was cut to pieces by the guards. 
 
 Heg. 962 (1554). — The fortunes of Mahomed Shah began to decline. Khizr 
 Chan, son of Mahomed Shah Poorby, of Bengal, in order to revenge the death 
 of his father, slain in the battle of Kalpy, raised an army, and assuming the 
 title of Bahadur Shah, wrested by force a great part of the eastern provinces 
 out of the hands of Mahomed Shah, whom he eventually defeated and slew. 
 Secunder Shah Soor was elected king. He was this year defeated with great 
 slaughter by Humayoon, who had returned to his dominions with a numerous 
 and well-appointed army. This victory decided the fate of the empire, and 
 the kingdom of Delhi fell for ever from the hands of the Afghans. Humayoon 
 re-entered Delhi in triumph, and became a second time King of Hindostan. 
 
 Heg, 963 (1556). — Shah Abool Maaly, on account of disputes with the 
 generals of his army in the Panjab, had given time to Secunder Soor to rally
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 26j 
 
 his forces. The King accordingly permitted his son Akbar, Tinder the direc- 
 tion of Beiram Chan, to go against him. One evening as the King was w alking 
 ■>n the library terrace at Delhi, in consequence of his staff slipping along the 
 marble pavement, he fell headlong, and was taken up insensible. He was 
 laid upon abed, and although he recovered his speech, he died four days after, 
 about sunset. He was buried in the new city on the banks of the river, and a 
 splendid monument was erected some years after by his son Akbar. Humayoon 
 died at the age of fifty-one, after a reign of twenty-five years, both in Cabul 
 and India. He was a prince of great intrepidity, possessing the virtues of 
 charity and munificence in an eminent degree.
 
 C^e IParia^, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ONE morning a poor Pariah was seated at the door of his 
 miserable hovel in a solitary spot not far from the bank 
 of a river. He was in a state of the saddest destitution. Famine 
 had ravaged the district. Thousands of his countrymen had died 
 around him, and he expected every moment a similar doom. 
 His wife was lying with a baby at her breast in a corner of the 
 hut, unable to rise from exhaustion. Food indeed was to be 
 purchased at the neighbouring town, but he had no money, and 
 no one in the bazaar would sell food to a Pariah. He made up 
 his mind to die. For days he tasted nothing but the roots of a 
 few shrubs which grew sparingly upon the river's bank. The 
 whole of that morning he had followed a drove of oxen, and 
 collected their dung in order to obtain the few grains of gram* 
 which it might chance to contain. Having washed the ordure, 
 after a hard morning's labour he obtained about a handful of 
 grain, which he boiled and gave to his wife. He had himself 
 fasted since the previous day. His wife was a young creature, not 
 yet fifteen, though the mother of three children. He loved her 
 with a fondness as ardent as it was merited, and this fondness 
 was now greatly enhanced by the sad circumstances to which 
 they and their children were likely to become victims. 
 
 The unhappy husband gazed upon the waters of the river as 
 they flowed solemnly onward, his mind absorbed in his own intense 
 distress. " What is there," he thought, "in this world to render life 
 
 Gram is a sort of small bean, eaten by cattle in India.
 
 THE PARIAH. 267 
 
 desirable ? Is it not one continued scene of privation to the 
 despised Pariah ? ^s he not an outcast from every human com- 
 munity but that degraded race of which he is a member ? May 
 he not be struck dead if he but cross the path of a Brahmin ? If 
 the hand of tyranny is raised to strike, dare he Hft up his to 
 ward off the stroke ? If his shadow pass over the ground upon 
 which the feet of holy men are treading, is it not pronounced 
 accursed, and he doomed to expiate the fearful penalty of having 
 cast pollution upon the very earth which now denies him suste- 
 nance? And yet death is a terrible event. What becomes of 
 the Pariah when the vultures have secured his body, and ]\is 
 bones are reduced to dust? He has no prospect beyond the 
 grave, which shuts him. out from all future hope. He has there- 
 fore no motive for preserving life, and yet he has a natural dread 
 of losing it. The certainty, however sad, is preferable to the 
 terrible uncertainty that may issue in something worse. The 
 elements of happiness may be found in this world with all its 
 miseries. If I could provide for those around me I should still 
 be comparatively a happy man ; I have a wife whom I love, 
 children dear to my heart ; could I but give them food, with all 
 this bereavement, I would no longer deplore the condition of a 
 poor Pariah." 
 
 These and similar thoughts passed through the mind of the 
 starving Hindoo as he sat before the door of his hovel, gazing with 
 a vacant expression upon the river. It was here of great breadth 
 and considerable depth. He was at length aroused from his 
 mental absorption by seeing on the other side a horseman riding 
 at full speed towards the bank. He observed the man's impetuous 
 career, every moment expecting to see him halt ; but no — the 
 stranger urged his steed madly onward and plunged into the river. 
 The current, though not turbulent, was rapid, and he was borne 
 down the stream. Plis horse encumbered with its load — for 
 besides the rider, it had a large pack ujjon its back — soon began 
 to sink under its burthen. The rider perceiving his peril quitted 
 the saddle and began to swim towards the shore ; but he was 
 heavily clad, and the current proved too strong for him,
 
 268 THR PARIAH. 
 
 The horse, released from its encumbrance, rose gallantly above 
 the waters, and succeeded in reaching the bank. The man was 
 soon in extreme danger ; he could scarcely keep his head above 
 the surface ; his struggles were desperate, but it was evident they 
 could not last niticJi longer. His stomach was already filled with 
 water — his eyes were becoming dim — his senses fading fast \ he 
 gasped, turned upon his back, and drifted with the stream. 
 
 The Pariah, seeing the stranger's peril, started from the ground, 
 and, weak as he was, ran to the bank opposite to the spot where 
 the swimmer was struggling, and, plunging into the river, with 
 much difficulty succeeded in bringing hiiA to land. The stranger 
 lay for some time insensible ; but by rubbing and rolling him upon 
 the ground, the Pariah finally restored him to consciousness. He 
 looked at his benefactor and pronounced a blessing upon him. 
 
 "How is it," he cried, "that a Mahomedan beholds in his 
 preserver one of a race who consider personal contact with any 
 one not of their own caste a carnal defilement ?" 
 
 " Pariahs do not think thus. You have been preserved by one 
 whose touch would be pollution to a Hindoo, but which I rejoice 
 to find has been the salvation of a Mahomedan. It is at least 
 some consolation to know that there do exist human creatures who 
 can look upon the outcast without shuddering." 
 
 " I see in you the saviour of my life, and that is to me para- 
 mount over all the poor considerations of rank. Civil distinctions, 
 when they destroy social obligations, are a bane ; I am willing, if 
 he will permit me, to share the hut of the Pariah." 
 
 " Stranger, you can only have a starving man's welcome. I am 
 fast going to a better or a worse destiny — a worse I am taught to 
 believe, for death secures no favourable change to the contemned 
 outcast. In yonder hut is my wife with three children dying. 
 Would I could offer you a better asylum." 
 
 "Perhaps my salvation may involve yours. I hope to bring 
 you relief. My horse has reached the shore in safety, and it bears 
 a supply of provisions. Come, let us to your home." 
 
 The eyes of his preserver glistened, he touched the ground with 
 his fingers, placed them against his emaciated fgrehead, and.
 
 THE PARI AH. a6g 
 
 murmuring a blessing upon the stranger, led the way to his 
 miserable hovel. 
 
 Upon entering, the first thing that struck the stranger was the 
 wife of his deliverer stretched upon the ground apparently in the 
 agonies of death ; by her side lay two children of the several ages 
 of two and three years, and at her breast was a third attempting 
 to draw that nutriment which the bosom no longer supplied. A 
 tear started into the eye of the husband and father as he saw his 
 guest's cheek wet with the ready tribute of sympathy. 
 
 The horse having reached the bank, had with the common 
 instinct of its nature gone to the Pariah's hut, where it was stand- 
 ing when its master entered. Having tiiken off the pack, the 
 provisions were produced, which consisted of cold meats, rice, and 
 a few condiments, with some bottles of Persian wine. The rice 
 was spread out in the sun and carefully dried ; meanwhile a small 
 quantity of wine was poured down the throats of the youthful 
 mother and her children, after which they were sparingly fed by 
 the anxious husband, who likewise assuaged the pangs of his own 
 hunger. He and his family rapidly revived after this seasonable 
 administration of relief. 
 
 Some hours after the stranger's rescue from the river, several 
 horsemen appeared on the other side ; but seeing that the stream 
 was not fordable and too wide to cross with safety they retired. 
 That very night the Pariah's guest complained of restlessness. 
 His sleep was disturbed, his throat parched, his pulse unequal 
 and his skin dry. He lay upon some withered grass in the corner 
 of his preserver's hovel, covered with a shawl which he usually wore 
 round his waist. By the morning he was in a high fever; it 
 augmented rapidly. For several days it increased until he was in 
 a state of delirium ; in proportion as he grew worse the starving 
 family got better. 
 
 Among the things in the pack, belonging to the stranger, was a 
 small bag containing six thousand rupees in gold. When the 
 provisions were exhausted the Pariah took from this store what 
 was necessary to obtain the requisite nourislmient for his family 
 and his guest ; this he procured from the neighbourmg town, but
 
 270 THR PARIAH. 
 
 did not appropriate a rupee beyond what their domestic exigencies 
 demanded. He attended his guest with a tenderness and attention 
 inspired by his natural kindness of heart and the obh'gations which 
 he felt under to him for the salvation of his family from starvation. 
 His wife united her attention to his : they feared for their benefac- 
 tor's life. They watched by him night and day. His constitution 
 at length overcame the fever, and he rapidly recovered. When 
 his senses returned, he blessed his preservers for their attention. 
 The Pariah placed his bag of money before him and accounted 
 for every pice that had been bestowed. The invalid was several 
 weeks under the humble roof of his preserver before he could 
 proceed on his way. 
 
 During his recovery, he had a full opportunity of witnessing the 
 character of his hosts. Both had recovered their natural health. 
 The wife was a small delicate creature, gentle, pretty, with a light 
 graceful figure, and an extremely placid countenance. The man 
 was young and vigorous, short but well knit, and exhibiting a 
 frame capable of great endurance. Their eldest child was a girl 
 scarcely three years old, and beautiful as a cherub. Nothing could 
 exceed the perfect symmetry of its little limbs, and both parents 
 seemed to look with pride upon the budding beauty of their 
 offspring. 
 
 " My worthy host," said the stranger one day to the Pariah, 
 \A\o was seated beside him smoking a small portion of tobacco 
 loUed up in a plantain leaf, "I must shortly leave you. This 
 humble dwelling has been my security, as ■''o one would think of 
 seeking the fugitive in the hovel of a Pariah. You have 
 ministered to me during sickness with a kindness which I nevei 
 can either forget or repay." 
 
 *' Nay, our attentions have been more than repaid by preserva- 
 tion from a terrible death, and had not that been the case they 
 would have been sufficiently requited in your high appreciation of 
 them." 
 
 "You know not whom you have harboured." 
 
 " Nor do I seek to know : it is enough for me that I have 
 saved the life of a fellow-creature. To me it is quite a matter of
 
 THE PARIAH. 271 
 
 indifiference who or what you may be; you have proved mj 
 benefactor and I shall never forget that I am indebted to you, 
 not only for my own life,, but for those lives which are far dearer 
 to me than my own." 
 
 " To-morrow I must quit you. It may perhaps be some con- 
 )lation to you to know that you saved the life of the Emperor 
 [umayoon. 1 have been driven from my throne by a rebel, and 
 
 must cast myself under the protection of some foreign power 
 ntil I can regain it." 
 
 The Pariah and his wife prostrated themselves before the Mogul 
 ihe moment he had proclaimed his regality. 
 
 '' Rise," said the Emperor, " and receive my benediction ; take 
 this ring and this gold, and may it in future keep you from the 
 privations to which you have hitherto been exposed." 
 
 Saying this, he took from his finger a ring bearing a large ruby 
 of considerable value, and put it into the hand of his host, to- 
 gether with a bag containing two thousand rupees in gold. I'his 
 was a fortune to a needy family, a provision for life, which they 
 acknowledged with tears of grateful joy. Being now sufficiently 
 recovered to proceed on his journey, the following morning the 
 Humayoon mounted his horse, and quitted the Pariah's dwelling 
 with prophetic sadness. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 FROM this moment the Pariah's family prospered. With the 
 Emperor's benefaction, he purchased a large quantity of 
 cattle, which he fed with grass from the jungles. By selling these 
 he soon increased his two thousand rupees, and in a few years, by 
 a com-se of active industry, became a wealthy man. His daughter 
 Yhahil realised, as she grew up, the promise of her babyhood. 
 Her beauty was the theme of every tongue, yet no one sought 
 alliance with the Pariah, and she remained unwedded, which to 
 every Hindoo woman is the sum of human misery. All the 
 members of hei own tribe were poor destitute objects, from a
 
 27* THE PARIAH. 
 
 union with whom her soul sickened, and she in vain directed hef 
 thoughts to becoming the bride of a man of caste. She considered 
 her case deplorable, and began to pine in secret at her unhappy 
 lot. 
 
 Her father was grieved to observe her sadness, but could not 
 alleviate it. He perceived that the web of life was a tangled 
 tissue, which never could be perfectly unravelled. The very 
 fortune which had elevated him above his compeers, had already 
 put forth the buds of misery that seemed but too likely to blossom 
 and ripen into fruit. It began to be clear to him that a man may 
 be as wretched under the bright sun of prosperity, which may 
 scorch and wither his peace, as under the cloud of bereavement, 
 where oft amid the darkness a faint light glimmers that imparts a 
 momentary joy, the more exquisite in proportion to the briefness 
 of its duration. He had become wealthy, but his riches, elevating 
 him above the society of his fellow outcasts, rendered him com- 
 paratively a solitary man. They had placed a bar betwixt his 
 child and that blessed boon which is the inheritance of all God's 
 creatures, — the union of hearts in a bond of reciprocal affection. 
 She was excluded from the greatest of immunities to the Hindoo, 
 the privilege of perpetuating her race, unless by an alliance which 
 her proud but sensitive heart could not stoop to embrace. 
 
 Many a Pariah had sighed in vain to win the affections of the 
 beautiful Yhahil, but she could not yield to solicitations coming 
 from beings who were but too commonly little above the brute in 
 understanding and familiar with habits which outraged humanity. 
 Hers was no unnatural pride, but she saw in the members of her 
 own tribe much to pity, and nothing to love. Fortune had raised 
 her above them, and she could not stoop to an alliance with those 
 who often fed upon the garbage cast to beasts of prey, and had no 
 'i>etter home than the perilous retirement of the jungle, where, in 
 common with creatures of rapine and of blood, they shared a 
 precarious abode. 
 
 Though the Pariah could bestow upon his daughter a dowry 
 that would have rendered her an eligible object of alliance had she 
 been blessed with the proud distinction of caste, no one out o/
 
 THE PARIAH. 873 
 
 her own tribe proposed for one of the loveliest specimens of nature's 
 craft that could be exhibited to the admiration of man : — thf» 
 gentle girl was doomed to pine in utter hopelessness. 
 
 A young Pariah had sighed in vain for the love of ihe beautiful 
 Yhahil. He had sought her notice by every attention, but her 
 averted eye and compressed lip showed that he had no place in 
 the affections he sought to win. He was a well-looking youth, 
 with an elevation of mind and a natural refinement of character 
 much above the generality of his race ; still he was not beloved. 
 He, nevertheless, laboured with unwearying assiduity to thaw the 
 frost that seemed to have incrusted the heart of her for whom he 
 would have gladly died, had such a sacrifice been demanded of 
 him. Whenever she quitted her home he was sure to be in the 
 way with some humble offering of attachment, which she invariably 
 refused with gentleness, though in a manner that showed her 
 sincerity. 
 
 " Yhahil," he one day said, "why am I despised?" 
 
 " You are not despised, Goutama ; not to love a man is not to 
 despise him, and you know that our affections are not in our own 
 keeping." 
 
 " But why can you not love me ? You cannot desire to live 
 unmarried ; and where will you find a husband, if you do not wed 
 a Pariah ?" 
 
 " It is true, indeed, that I would be married ; but I must find 
 a husband whom I can love, otherwise I shall submit to the curse 
 of maidenhood, — for I never could attach myself to a man who 
 had not obtained an entire ascendancy over my heart." 
 
 " But where do you think of seeking for such a man, if you 
 reject the whole race to which you and your family belong ?" 
 
 " If I find not a man of caste, I tell you honestly I shall never 
 marry." 
 
 "Alas ! Yhahil, you would spurn from you one who venerates 
 tlie earth you tread upon, for a phantom which you can never 
 possess. \Vould you marry a Brahmin ony because he is a 
 Brahmin ?" 
 
 "Not without he had won my affections; but, in truth, the
 
 274 ^ HE PARIAH. 
 
 degradation attached to the Pariah excludes him from those 
 aftections." 
 
 "Would you refuse to wed a Pariah if you loved him ?" 
 
 " Certainly not, if I loved him, but I never could love him. 
 You, Goutama, would have secured my affection, if it had been 
 possible that it should fix upon one of your tribe, but it is not ; I 
 feel my blood curdle at the very name. My repugnance is 
 invincible. We are outcasts, and I would live united by that 
 social bond which would make me a m.ember of a respected 
 community." 
 
 " Alas ! you are preparing a load of misery for yourself, as well 
 as for one who would gladly endure it, provided he could bear it 
 in conjunction with you. I see nothing but a gloomy prospect 
 before us both. Will you afford me no hope ?" 
 
 " It were hypocrisy in me to encourage hope, as I never can 
 become your bride ; fate has placed an impassable bar betwixt 
 us." 
 
 " Nay, not fate, Yliahil, but woman's pride." 
 
 "As you will. The bar is nevertheless fixed, and there is no 
 removing it. Seek, Goutama, some worthier object, and leave me 
 to my destiny." 
 
 Yhahil's parents were unhappy at not seeing their daughter 
 married. She was in her fourteenth year, and still a maiden. She 
 was their only girl, and tenderly beloved by both. The father 
 would have gladly seen her united to a man who could have borne 
 her into society which she could not be considered to contami- 
 nate ; but, rather than she should not be married at all, he would 
 willingly have consented to her becoming the wife of a Pariah, 
 Among Hindoo women celibacy is the greatest stigma they can 
 undergo ; nevertheless the beautiful Yhahil was determined to 
 bear the stigma, since she was precluded from becoming the wife 
 of a husband who could lift up his head among his fellows without 
 exhibiting the brand of pollution upon it. 
 
 Goutama, who had aspired to her affections, was an amiable 
 youth, but poor in circumstances, and necessitated to labour in 
 the most degrading vocations, in order to satisfy the demands of
 
 THE PARIAH. 975 
 
 nature. His general employment was that of scavenger in a 
 neighbouring village, to collect cow-dung to plaster the floors of 
 the poorer and lower caste of Hindoos, to prepare bodies for the 
 funeral pile, and similar degrading avocations. The lovely girl 
 whose heart he sought to win was repelled from him by the very 
 necessities of his condition, and though she acknowledged him 
 amiable, and occasionally admitted him to her presence, she could 
 not look upon him without a sickening revulsion of heart. She 
 felt ashamed of her feelings, but was unable to control them, and 
 her coldness frequently wrung tears of deep distress from the 
 rejected suitor. 
 
 Her mother pitied him, and would gladly have consented to her 
 daughter's union with him, had she not perceived the girl's un- 
 tractable repugnance. Observing this, she could not forbear 
 offering some gentle expostulations. 
 
 "Yhahil," said she, one day, "why, my child, do you look so 
 coldly upon poor Goutama ? He loves you : is not that enough 
 to endear a man to a woman's heart ?" 
 
 "No, my mother. We cannot prepare the channel for the 
 current of our own feelings ; they will take what course they list. 
 We may control them, nay, we may master, but cannot change 
 them ; they are independent of our will. I cannot love Goutama, 
 and will never wed a Pariah. In this world if there be little 
 happiness, there is, at least, a choice of miseries, and mine shall 
 be those arising from unwedded life, rather than from a union 
 which could never render me happy." 
 
 " But why should you seek to elevate yourself above the con- 
 dition to which you were bom ?" 
 
 " Because it is one of acknowledged disgrace. No mortal was 
 ever bom degraded, and the stigmas imposed by conventional 
 prejudices I am unwilling to sanction by perpetuating them. I 
 would emerge from the atmosphere of social degradation by which 
 I have been for years surrounded. I feel within me the elements 
 of that nobility which is indigenous in every living soul, the 
 nobility of mind, and have a strong presentiment that I shall
 
 2?6 THE PARIAH. 
 
 elevate myself above the present abasement to which destiny 
 seems to have consigned me." 
 
 " Daughter, these are dangerous sentiments to encourage ; they 
 will plant thorns in your bosom which you will find it difficult to 
 pluck out." 
 
 " If tlie thorns are there, the roses will grow upon them, and I 
 am content." 
 
 " But is it not better to have the humblest flower blossom within 
 your heart, than to find nothing but the bitter root growing there, 
 which puts forth neither flower nor fruit?" 
 
 " Those joys, my mother, are the sweetest which have sparkled 
 from a cup impregnated with the bitters of affliction. Enjoyment 
 \z enhanced by suffering, and I trust I am only passing througk. 
 the ordeal of the one, to bring me into the enviable inheritance of 
 the other. 
 
 The mother forbore to urge a measure to which she saw her 
 child so decidedly opposed, but her disappointment was severe. 
 She feared that her daughter would never perpetuate her race, and 
 that she was destined to be the parent of a degraded offspring — 
 degraded even among the outcasts of the Hindoo population. 
 The father was no less unhappy, but he did not interfere wiUi the 
 prejudices of a beloved child. In truth, he felt the force of these 
 prejudices, and forbore to divert them. He was a wealthy man, 
 and there was no moral reason why she should not pursue the bent 
 of her own conscience, when it did not lead her into practical de- 
 reliction. Yhahil was thus left uncontrolled to follow the impulses 
 of her own feelings. 
 
 One morning she was bathing in the river with a female atten- 
 dant. While standing in the water, draining it from her long flow- 
 ing hair, a scream from the woman beside her directed her attention 
 to an object which paralysed her with horror. A large alligator 
 was rushing towards her with the velocity of a, sunbeam. She 
 shrieked and closed her eyes ; in a moment a plunge near her 
 caused her to look up, and she beheld the unhappy Goutama in 
 the creature's jaws. " I have saved thee, Yhahil," he cried faintly, 
 and the monster immediately plunged with its victim beneath the
 
 THE PARIAH. Vjj 
 
 deep dull waters. The surface was slightly tinged with blood ; a 
 icw bubbles rose, which were the only indications of what was 
 passing below. 
 
 The lovely Pariah made the best of her way to the bank, upon 
 which she fainted. Her woman had witnessed the magnanimity 
 of Goutama. Happening to pass at the moment of the alligator's 
 approach towards its intended victim, he had marked her peril, 
 and, plunging into the stream, preserved her life at the expense of 
 his own. 
 
 Yhahil returned to her home in tears. She thought that such a 
 man should have been reserved for better things. She felt she 
 could have loved him had he not been a Pariah, and his melan- 
 choly death cast over her spirit a gloom which did not readily 
 subside. The intensity of his passion, proved by the sacrifice of 
 his life, awoke in her bosom the tenderest sympathies. Still there 
 was no disguising from her heart that she could not have married 
 him, even had he escaped destruction, while that moral blight was 
 upon him which rendered him an object of public scorn, and ot 
 silent, though undeserved, reproach. 
 
 Time sped on, but there was no change. The desolation of 
 sorrow had passed over the outcast's dwelling. His wealth was no 
 blessing. He bowed to his idols in vain ; they heard not his sup- 
 plications, and his prayer returned to his own bosom. He still 
 pursued his occupation, and money was daily added to his stores, 
 but this did not render him happy. His daughter, the child of 
 his tenderest attachment, was alone in the world, and with all bis 
 gold he could not purchase for her the boon she sought. 
 
 The death of poor Goutama, whom he respected for his wortli, 
 had cast a cloud over his peace. But for his noble sacrifice, the 
 father would have been doomed to moum the loss of a daughter, 
 of whose virtues he was proud, and of her beauty vain. He pre- 
 sented the family of Goutama with a compensation sufficient to 
 secure them from want for many a year, but this did not restore 
 the son to the bosom of an anxious parent. 
 
 One night as Yhahil flung herself upon her couch, she laid her 
 head upon a large snake which was curled upon her pillow. Feel-
 
 278 THE PARIAH. 
 
 ing the cold lubricous surface she suddenly raised herself, when 
 the reptile rose, and, extending its hideous crest, wound itself 
 gently round her neck. She was riveted to the spot ; every muscle 
 in her body became rigid, all vital action appeared suspended as 
 she felt the venomous reptile spanning her neck within its 
 horrible coil. She did not move ; her breath was arrested, and 
 her eyes fixed in mute horror, when the snake, gliding down her 
 shoulder, passed round her arm, slid upon the palampore, and 
 made its escape. She was uninjured. It was some time be- 
 fore she recovered her self-possession. Her women were sum- 
 moned, and the apartment examined, but there was no snake 
 seen. 
 
 She lay and mused upon the circunistanre. Not being free 
 from the superstition prevalent p'^^cng her race, the circumstance 
 affected her deeply. Her escape was one of those incidental 
 chances of good forti'rie which occur once m an age. She had 
 lately twice escaped death in its most terrible form. The gods of 
 her country had surely heard her and her father's prayers, and re- 
 served the degraded Pariah for some future destiny. Her pulse 
 -ose with the excitement of her feelings. She could not sleep, but 
 visions, almost palpable to the senses, passed before her. Although 
 awake, she seemed to behold objects with all the accuracy and 
 definite precision of sensible perception. 
 
 Towards morning she slept. Her dreams embodied the objects 
 of her waking thoughts. She fancied herself suiTounded by the 
 pageantries of a court, and that thousands of her fellow-creatures 
 bowed the knee before her. She was no longer an outcast— no 
 longer a disgraced mortal, but a distinguished and adored woman. 
 She awoke from the excitement caused by her dream, rose from her 
 unquiet couch, and went forth to hail the rising sun, which marched 
 up to heaven in its splendour as if in mockery of human woe. She 
 looked upon the glorious orb, her heart dilated, and she became a 
 silent worshipper of its glory.
 
 879 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ABOUT a coss from the Pariah's dwelling lived a jiggerkhat 
 or liver-eater, who was looked upon as a pythoness through- 
 out the neighbourhood, having the power of foretelling future 
 events. 
 
 " One of this class," says Abul Fazil,* " can steal away the liver 
 of another by looks and incantations. Other accounts say, that 
 by looking at a person he deprives him of his senses, and then 
 steals from him something resembling the seed of a pomegranate, 
 which he hides in the calf of his leg. The jiggerkhar throws on 
 the fire the grain, which thereupon spreads to the size of a dish, 
 and he distributes it amongst his fellows to be eaten, which 
 ceremony concludes the life of the fascinated person. A 
 jiggerkhar is able to communicate his art to another, which he 
 does by teaching him the incantations, and making him eat a bit 
 of the liver-cake. If any one cut open the calf of the magician's 
 leg, extract the grain, and give it to the afflicted person to eat, he 
 immediately recovers. These jiggerkhars are mostly women. It 
 is said, moreover, that they can bring intelligence from a great 
 distance in a short space of time, and, if they are thrown into a 
 river with a stone tied to them, they neverless will not sink. In 
 order to deprive any one of this wicked power, they brand his 
 temples and every joint in his body, cram his eyes with salt, 
 suspend him for forty days in a subterraneous cavern, and repeat 
 over him certain incantations. In this state he is called 
 Datchereh. Although, after having undergone this discipline, he 
 is not able to destroy the liver of any one, yet he retains the 
 power of being able to discover another jiggerkhar, and is used 
 for detecting those disturbers of mankind. They can also cura 
 many diseases, by administering a potion, or by repeating an 
 
 * c 
 
 ee Ayecn Ackberry.
 
 aSo ThP. pariah. 
 
 incantation. Many other marvellous stories are told of these 
 people." 
 
 Yhahil had heard many things related of the extraordinary 
 woman already mentioned, though she had never seen her. 
 Impelled by an unconquerable impulse, she determined to visit 
 her. The woman was reputed to possess a singular faculty in 
 tracing human destinies, and was said to have foretold events 
 which had taken place after a considerable interval of time. It 
 was likewise reported, that some of her practices were of a less 
 innocent character. The death of more than one person had been 
 attributed to her, and yet she was held in such awe that no one 
 dared to molest her. When a violent hurricane ravaged the land, 
 it was declared to be of her producing. When famine spread 
 devastation over the country, it was attributed to the jiggerkhar, 
 and not a serious casualty happened, but the blame was attached 
 to her. She was, therefore, shunned and dreaded by the whole 
 country around. 
 
 One day about noon Yhahil sought the abode of this prophetess. 
 It was a deep cavern, near the base of a hill. No human habita- 
 tion was near. Situated on the north side, the beams of the sun 
 were excluded from it. At the entrance were scattered several 
 large fragments of rock, as if casually flung there by some violent 
 convulsion of nature. Not a shrub or particle of verdure was 
 visible within at least fifty yards of the cavern. Lizards crawled 
 about the stones, and snakes were occasionally seen to glide for a 
 moment from their rocky retreats, and retire at the sound of 
 human footsteps. The whole place had an aspect of desolation, 
 perfectly concurring with the life and character of the unnatural 
 being who inhabited the cave. For years the place had been 
 trodden by no foot save her own. Yhahil, with a trembling step, 
 approached the den of the prophetic hag. The old woman was 
 seated on a fragment of rock which lay just in front of her dreary 
 dwelling. On her lap was a Pariah dog, blind with age and 
 disfigured with mange. As the lovely girl approached, the squalid 
 brute raised its head, and commenced a shrill continuous howl, 
 and, when it had finished, began licking its mistre,ss's face with
 
 THE PARIAH. sfii 
 
 disgusting familiarity. Having finished this canine caress, it 
 resumed its howl in a still louder key. 
 
 Yhahil undauntedly approached, but, on a nearer scrutiny, was 
 for an instant repelled at the sight of the object whom she had 
 come to consult upon the events of the future. Never was any- 
 thing akin to humanity so perfectly hideous. She might have 
 been taken for any age above a hundred years. She seemed 
 almost to have lived from eternity. Her whole aspect was so 
 essentially old, that every mark which in age so frequently conveys 
 an association with youth was entirely obliterated. She appeared 
 the withered consort of old Time, with whom one might have 
 imagined she had travelled through all the cycles of duration. 
 Every feature of her face was frightful. Her hair, matted and 
 grizzled, fell upon her shrivelled shoulders in long thin wisps, 
 like the dull wiry grass which occasionally hangs from the crest 
 of the sun-scorched rock. Her forehead appeared as if it had 
 been crimped. The wrinkles were so near together, that a needle's 
 point could scarcely have been inserted between them. The skin 
 clung so close to her cheek-bones as to develop the grim 
 anatomy of her visage with a minuteness almost appalling. Nose 
 she had none, but the slight indication of it which remained 
 showed that such a member had once a " local habitation" upon 
 her now revolting countenance. Her eyes were so deeply sunk 
 into her head, and the lids approximated so closely, that the dim 
 lurid orbs were scarcely discernible. 
 
 When Yhahil reached the spot where the jiggerkhar was 
 sitting, she flung a gold mohur* into her lap, saying, " I seek a 
 boon, mother." 
 
 " Thou shalt have it, maiden," said the hag ; *' thou knowest 
 how to solicit a boon. Silence Parvati," she said to the dog, 
 which was again beginning to howl, " canst thou not distinguish 
 the voice of a friend — peace, churl ! What wouldst thou ?" 
 
 " I would know of the future, mother, into which thy dim eye 
 
 * Tlie gold mohur is worth about five and thirty shillings. It passes in 
 India for twenty rupees.
 
 5*82 THE PARIAH. 
 
 can pierce with the clearness of a star. I stand upon this world 
 as upon a pinnacle in the midst of a blasted wilderness, whence I 
 can behold nothing but sterility beneath, and vague unfathomable 
 distance above." 
 
 "Those who would know of the future, child, must buy the 
 knowledge at a heavier cost than a meal of rice." 
 
 Yhahil threw another gold mohur in the sybil's lap. 
 
 " You are a liberal probationer, and deserve a good reckoning 
 in this life, and a happy change in the better. Follow me, and 
 you shall know more." Saying this she entered the cavern, and 
 the dog limped after her. The entrance was so narrow as to 
 admit only one person at a time. Yhahil followed the old woman 
 undauntedly, but when she stood within the cave her heart 
 sickened. It was so dark that, three yards beyond the entrance, 
 all was involved in impenetrable gloom. The pythoness was no 
 longer visible, but her hoarse cracked voice was audible through 
 the intense darkness of the cell, the rugged sides of which rever- 
 berated it with so terrible an echo, that the terrified girl started, 
 sickened, and would have fallen ; but drawing a deep sigh she 
 brushed the gathering dews from her forehead, and in another 
 moment had braced her mind to the necessary pitch of high 
 resolve that defied all future suggestions of terror, 
 
 " Now tell me," cried the crone, " what you especially seek to 
 know." 
 
 " I am a Pariah, mother." 
 
 " That I need not be told, nor how the Pariah became rich. 
 The eye that looks beyond the confines of this world can be no 
 stranger to what passes within them." 
 
 " Can you read my thoughts ?" 
 
 " Ay ; — thou wouldst marry a man of caste, but that may not 
 be ; yet shalt thou wed." 
 
 "Never, I would sooner perish than wed a Pariah." 
 
 " That thou Avilt not do, and yet marry. Brahma never brought 
 so comely a creature into this world to discredit his creation. 
 Thou wilt be a propagator of beautiful sons and daughters ; but I 
 must look more closely to the lines of thy face through the dark-
 
 THE PARIAH. 283 
 
 ness that now surrounds thee, before I can obtain a true sign of 
 thy destiny. I must read the stars too, and that can only be done 
 at night. Come to-morrow by this time, and thou shalt hear 
 more ; but let thy sleep be gentle : there is already a fair augury 
 for thee. Parvati, conduct the Pariah to the light." The dog 
 immediately trotted from the dark extremity of the cavern, and, 
 placing itself just without the entrance, gave a single short bark. 
 
 " You are summoned ; to morrow you will hear a more copious 
 record. The volume of futurity is not read in a moment ; its 
 page is filled with characters which require the sage's expounding. 
 Come to-morrow, and do not forget your gold. If you would 
 learn the secrets hid in the bosom of time, you must pay the 
 price." 
 
 Yhahil was disgusted at the impatient covetousness of the 
 jiggerkhar, but her anxiety had become so predominant that she 
 determined to purchase the promised prediction at whatever cost. 
 She hastened to her home under a new but agreeable excitement. 
 Like all her race, though naturally of a strong mind, she was 
 superstitious. Superstition, in fact, was inseparable from the 
 dogmas of that idolatrous creed in the belief of which she had 
 been reared. Her two singular escapes from death had im- 
 pressed her mind with a solemn assurance that she was fore- 
 doomed to something uncommon. The impression haunted her, 
 and she was impatient for the morrow, to hear her anxious long^ 
 ings confirmed by the oracle of the pythoness. Her father 
 remarked the unusual vivacity of her manner, and was pleased, 
 as it encouraged a hope that the root of her prejudice was losing 
 its hold in her heart. The mother was no less overjoyed, and the 
 outcast's home was for that evening a scene of joy. 
 
 By noon the following day Yhahil was again at the jiggerkhar's 
 dwelling. The crone was seated as before with the mangy dog 
 upon her lap, and, as the anxious girl approached, extended her 
 hand, exposing her withered palm. Yhahil placed a mohur upon 
 it, but the long fingers did not close over the gold. The coin re- 
 mained unclutched, yet the hand continued extended. The hag's 
 counteucmce darkened, and her eye emitted a fierce lurid glare.
 
 234 THE PARIAH. 
 
 Another mohur was placed upon the former. The fingers imme- 
 diately compressed the two pieces of pure mintage, the old 
 ^\•oman's countenance relaxed into a subdued expression of grati- 
 fied avarice, the dog again licked her face, as if it participated in 
 her satisfaction, and, rising, she said, " Follow me." 
 
 Yhahil entered the cave as she had done the preceding day, 
 and remained some minutes without hearing a sound. At length 
 the old woman's voice was heard through the gloom as before. 
 
 " The volume of futurity is still clasped. In the broad skies 
 it is written that I shall read further, and that you shall know 
 further, but not now ] come to-morrow at this time, and you will 
 ascertain what you seek to be informed." The disappointed girl 
 retired from the cavern, deeply mortified ; but there was some- 
 thing too terrible in the aspect of the jiggerkhar to render expos- 
 tulation prudent. She therefore departed without uttering a word. 
 
 For several days the same mummery was repeated and the same 
 pretences urged ; the same fee was received at every visit. At 
 length the crone, perceiving that the patience of her victim was 
 gradually waning, promised her with an asseveration of blasphe- 
 mous solemnity, that on the morrow her doom should be read 
 upon paying a double fee. 
 
 Yhahil had now proceeded too far to retreat, and on the follow- 
 ing day she appeared once more at the jiggerkhar's den. The 
 prophetess was seated as usual before the entrance, and received 
 her visitor with a smile, as the latter dropped ten gold niohurs 
 into her filthy hand. She now took from her pocket a snake, and 
 shaking it by the throat with her finger and thumb, made it hiss 
 \iolently ; then muttering a few words she entered the cave, and 
 and desired the anxious Pariah to follow. This the latter did 
 without emotion, having so frequently obeyed the injunction, 
 without witnessing any terrifying result. In fact, her anxiety had 
 now reached to such a painful climax, that she felt reckless of ail 
 consequences, and stood with unshrinking firmness in the pre- 
 sence of one possessing, as she imagined, the awful power of 
 divination. 
 She had not remained long within the cavern when she heard
 
 THE PARIAH, 385 
 
 the snake hiss ; the dog uttered a heavy moan, a sudden flash 
 wa;; seen to break through the gloom, and a stream of blue light 
 rose from the floor : the whole space was illuminated. The old 
 woman stood behind the flame, which shone full upon her 
 unearthly form, throwing over it a pale grey, quivering radiance, 
 which added tenfold to the natural hideousness of her aspect. 
 The snake was coiled round her neck ; a guana* crawled at her 
 feet, where the dog lay with its head erect, looking into her face. 
 Yhahil blanched not, though every drop of her blood appeared 
 to recede with a sudden gush upon her heart. 
 
 "The word of divination comes," said the sybil. "Your 
 destiny has been perused, and it will be as fruitful as you have 
 been liberal. You will not live a maiden, and you will die 
 ennobled. Go to the Mogul capital, and look for the consum- 
 mation of a blessed lot, or remain where you are, and perish an 
 outcast. Go, — your doom has been read." 
 
 The light now gradually faded, and the place was involved in 
 intense darkness. Yhahil quitted the cavern. Absurd and evident 
 as the juggle had been, she was fully impressed with a notion that 
 she had heard the voice of an oracle. Her bosom swelled with 
 joyous anticipations. She seemed to tread on the clouds as she 
 sought her home. For days her spirits were so buoyant that her 
 parents became uneasy : the excitement, however, at length sub- 
 sided, and she appeared to have become rationally happy. This 
 was an event of real gladness to the delighted father, a feeling also 
 in which the mother fully participated. 
 
 M 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Y father," said Yhahil, one day, " I have a great desire to 
 visit the Mogul capital," 
 Why, my child?" 
 
 • A huge lizard, frequently upwards -sf three feet long.
 
 286 THE PARIAH. 
 
 " Because the Mahomedans have no more antipathy towards 
 Pariahs than they have towards the castes ; and among them our 
 wealth w^ould gain us respect, though our social degradation did 
 not." 
 
 "Well, I see no objection to the change. As you know, I 
 once saved the Emperor's life, and his liberality upon that occa- 
 sion was the source of all my present wealth. For a while he was 
 a wanderer in foreign countries; but he has since resumed his 
 throne, and governs his subjects with equity. He might chance 
 to remember and acknowledge the outcast, though princes have 
 not the credit of awakening unwelcome recognitions. We will go : 
 any change will be for the better, and at Delhi the facilities of 
 traffic are great. — We will go." 
 
 The wdfe, w'ho was obedient to her husband in all things, made 
 no objection, and the Pariah family were soon settled in the 
 Mogul capital. In a populous city, where beauty is sought after 
 and admiration easily won, the personal attractions of Yhahil 
 could not long remain a secret. The beautiful Pariah was con- 
 tinually spoken of, and at length the reputation of her attractions 
 reached beyond the immediate neighbourhood in which her parent 
 had taken up his abode. She seldom quitted the house that there 
 was not a buzz of admiration ; and as it was not the custom of her 
 tribe, as of women of caste, to appear seldom abroad, and then 
 always with the face covered, she was seen every day, and the 
 fame of her beauty spread rapidly over the city. 
 
 Passing one morning through the bazaar, which was greatly 
 crowded, she was struck down by the pole of a palenkeen. The 
 person within having been immediately made acquainted with the 
 accident from the cries of the crowd, ordered his bearers to stop, 
 and proceeded to the sufferer's assistance. Commanding her to 
 be put into his palenkeen, and having ascertained where she 
 \ived, she was carried home, he walking by her side. 
 
 The father, surprised at witnessing so unusual a cavalcade 
 Approaching his door, rushed out with instinctive apprehension of 
 mischief. Upon seeing his daughter, he began to make heavy 
 lamentations, until he heard her assurances that she had only
 
 THE PARIAH. 287 
 
 fceen stunned ; and quitting the palankeen she speedily removed 
 his alarm. The stranger was invited to partake of some refresh- 
 ment, which invitation he did not decline. He was evidently a 
 Mahomedan of rank ; and the Pariah was flattered at seeing a 
 man, to whom the multitude bowed in homage, seated at his 
 board, from which all but outcasts had been hitherto excluded. 
 The guest at length retired, after having signified that he should 
 occasionally repeat his visit, which was anxiously pressed by the 
 parents, and seconded by their daughter, not without that silent 
 eloquence of the eyes, which speaks with a sweeter emphasis than 
 the tongue can impart to words. 
 
 It was soon ascertained that the gallant Mahomedan was the 
 son of Beiram Chan, prime minister of Humayoon. This adven- 
 ture naturally led to an intimacy ; and young Beiram could not 
 behold the beauty of the Pariah's daughter without feeling his 
 heart moved. He was young aaid handsome, full of generous 
 impulses, though too apt to be driven by those impulses beyond 
 the strict line of prudence. He was an object of admiration 
 among the chief ladies of the Emperor's court, yet he had not 
 fixed his affections, though they had several times wavered be- 
 tween two or three Mahomedan beauties. The lovely Yhaliil at 
 once decided him. He had seen nothing among his own country- 
 women to approach her transcendant loveliness ; his resolution 
 therefore was soon fixed to give them all up, and cleave to the 
 charming stranger. This, however, occurred to his sober reflec- 
 tions as likely to involve him in considerable perplexity. It would 
 never do for the son of a Mogul noble to ally himself with the 
 daughter of an outcast, except by those temporary ties which may 
 be ruptured at will ; and, even upon any terms, it would not, he 
 knew, receive the approbation of his family. He did not for a 
 moment imagine that Yhahil would '•efuse the sort of alliance 
 tvhich he meant to propose to her, feeling conscious that he was 
 not indifferent to her, and knowing, as she must do, the impass- 
 able barrier to a conjugal union between them. Their eyes had 
 exchanged those glances which are the precursors of a declaration 
 on the one hand, and of acceptance on the other : still lie
 
 a88 THE PARIAH. 
 
 hesitated Vo avow himself, being unwilling hastily to rouse the 
 indignation of his parent. 
 
 Yhahil's father and mother had observed the reciprocations oi 
 attachment which had been mutually manifested by their daughter 
 and the Mogul minister's son, and knowing the stem severity 
 of virtue which governed all the actions of their beloved child 
 they looked forward to her ratifying the conquest, which she 
 had evidently made, by becoming the wife of a Mahomedan 
 noble. 
 
 " My girl," said her father, as he one day embraced her with 
 anxious tenderness, " I still hope to see my home blessed through 
 you. You have, I trust, won a good man's love." 
 
 " Of whom do you speak?" asked the daughter, with a flutter- 
 ing heart. 
 
 " The minister's son." 
 
 " He has never avowed his passion." 
 
 " But it needs not the tongue's avowal to confirm the evidence 
 of a silent yet more credible expression that he loves thee. You 
 will hear him declare himself before the horns of the next young 
 moon meet. Tell me, Yhahil, do you love him ?" 
 
 " I do, father." 
 
 " Would you wed him ?" 
 
 " I never could love the man I would not wed, nor wed 
 whom I could' not love." 
 
 " I am satisfied." 
 
 The parents from this time looked anxiously for the Mahome- 
 dan's declaration, but it came not, and they began to be im- 
 patient, though it was more than ever evident that he loved their 
 child. 
 
 The minister's son paid his visits daily at the Pariah's hcuse, 
 and his attachment to the daughter increased with their acquain- 
 tance. He found that she possessed an understanding, though 
 not highly cultivated, yet of a rare order. The degradation in 
 which she had been held in being of no caste, had deprived her 
 of the means of raising her mind to the elevation of which it was 
 capable ; she had nevertheless not neglected it AH the means
 
 THE PARIAH. 289 
 
 witliin her reach she had employed, and her natural quickness of 
 perception had given her advantages possessed by few. She had 
 not been allowed to attend the village school in consequence of 
 the disgrace attached to her social station ; but she had availed 
 herself of the assistance of a learned Mussulman who dwelt at 
 some short distance from her father's abode, and he had given 
 her an insight into the history and literature of her country, 
 and what he could not teach, her own readiness of apprehension 
 supplied. 
 
 At this period education was cultivated by the Hindoos in 
 every village, by a national edict; knowledge was universally 
 inculcated, and it was then as rare to find a poor villager wno 
 could not read as it is now to find one who can. In fact, the 
 whole social system seems to have undergone a complete revolu- 
 tion. During those ages when Europe was enveloped in intellectual 
 darkness that exposed her to the contempt of the very countries 
 which are now drawing from the stores of her wisdom and science 
 a harvest which bids fair to ripen into universal civilisation, Hin- 
 dostan was distinguished by a race of philosophers, who, but for 
 the conquest to which that country has been subjected, and the 
 degrading dominion under which its vast population has so long 
 groaned, would probably have raised it to an elevation in intellec- 
 tual and social dignity, not inferior to ancient Greece at the 
 brightest period of her glory. "Education has always, from the 
 earliest period of their history, been an object of public care and 
 public interest to the Hindoo government on the peninsula of India. 
 Every well-regulated village under those governments had a public 
 school and public schoolmaster. The system of instruction in them 
 was that which, in consequence of its efficiency, simplicity, and 
 cheapness, was a few years ago introduced from Madras into England, 
 and from England into the rest of Europe. Every Hindoo parent 
 looked upon the education of his child as a solemn duty which 
 he owed to his god and to his country, and placed him under the 
 "\choolmast.er of his village as soon as he had attained his fifth year. 
 The ceremony of introducing him for the first time to the school- 
 master and his scholars was publicly recorded, and was attended 
 INDIA. u
 
 S90 THE PARIAH. 
 
 with all the solemnity of a religious observance ; a prayer being 
 publicly offered up on the occasion to the figure of Genesa, the 
 Hindoo God of Wisdom, which was at the head of every Hindoo 
 school, imploring him to aid the child in his endeavours to learn 
 and become wise."* 
 
 Yhahil had imbibed, as deeply as the son of Beirani, the im- 
 pressions of love. 
 
 '• Yhahil," said the Mahomedan one day, when they were seated 
 in a veranda that overlooked a garden at the back of the house, 
 " do you think you could be happy to quit your parents ?" 
 
 " No ; I see no circumstance that should render it necessary 
 for me to quit them." 
 
 " Surely you are not serious ?" 
 
 " In truth I am. Why should I leave them under any temporal 
 change that you can imagine ?" 
 
 " Suppose you should be married?" 
 
 " They could still be with me." 
 
 " But your husband might not like them.** 
 
 " Then he could not like me. They who love truly feel kindly 
 towards those who are dear to the objects of their love. If not, 
 their hearts are hollow." 
 
 " But there are other unions which would render it impossible 
 for your parents to live with you." 
 
 " What may those unions be ? I know of none." 
 
 "Suppose you were living with the objection of your affection in 
 an alliance of fervent attachment «dthout being bound by the com- 
 pulsory obligations of marriage." 
 
 " I could never be in such a position, therefore your argument 
 is of no weight." 
 
 "Is there no man, Yhahil, with whom you would consent to 
 pass your life, free from those civil restraints which so frequently 
 chill the warm glow of hearts, and render wedlock a condition of 
 dull monotonous dissatisfaction ?" 
 
 " That may be, but with all its evils, these, when weighed against 
 
 * Extract of a letter of Sir Alexander Johnston to Mr. C. Grant, upon th» 
 Hindoo national education.
 
 THE PARIAH. 291 
 
 tlie good, are lightest in the balance, and I would rather be a 
 Pariah's wife than an Omrah's harlot." 
 
 " I thought you had determined never to wed a Pariah — yout 
 father has told me as much." 
 
 " And he told you truly — it will therefore follow that I am de- 
 termined never to become the harlot of an Omrah." 
 
 " Yhahil," said the minister's son, " I need scarcely say that 1 
 love you ; but you will hardly imagine with what fervour, and let 
 me ask you to state candidly if that love is reciprocated ?" 
 
 " Omrah, I am a girl unhackneyed in the ways of the world, 
 and know little of the artifices of life. I am not aware, therefore, 
 that any motive can exist why I should not readily confess to you 
 that my heart has received a strong impression from your delicate 
 attentions to me ; but let me assure you at once, for I have a dis- 
 quieting suspicion, that, the moment they cease to be delicate, my 
 respect for you will likev.ise cease, and a woman's love without 
 her respect is a jewel in so bad a setting as only to disgrace the 
 wearer." 
 
 " Yhahil, you cannot imagine that I can fail to respect one who 
 has so entirely engrossed my aftections. I love you with an 
 earnestness which death only can subdue ; but you knoAV there 
 
 are certain social impediments " he hesitated. The blood 
 
 mantled to the beautiful Pariah's brow. 
 
 " Proceed," she said, " why do you hesitate ? Let me hear what 
 you propose : there should be no disguise after the mutual confes- 
 sions which have passed between us." 
 
 " I am sure, Yhahil, you cannot be unreasonable. Where there 
 is a sincere interchange of attachment there should be no sus- 
 picion. I need not point out to one of your superior mind that 
 the mere circumstance of your being a Pariah precludes the 
 possibihty of my making you my wife. If I did so I should be 
 despised by my countrymen, and you would be an object of s:corn 
 among their wives and daughters. I would not for an empire 
 expose you to the chance of such indignity. Nevertheless, there 
 is no social bar to a union of hearts apart from those civil tics by 
 ijiiuch ^ ?■* recoijnised by the world. We may still be united, w c 
 
 u 2
 
 i^ THE PARIAH. 
 
 may still be dear to each other, and reciprocate affections which 
 no time shall subdue, no contingencies stifle. My proposal is, 
 that you be mine in spite of the civil impediments which interpose 
 between us and a conjugal alliance." 
 
 Yhahil had listened in silence ; every drop of blood had receded 
 from her face, and left her lips as pale as ashes. They quivered 
 with indignant emotion, but she answered with deliberate and 
 Solemn calmness, 
 
 " Omrah, you may be privileged by your rank to insult a Pariah, 
 but your dignity as a man ought to have withheld you from insult- 
 ing z woman. What has there been in my conduct, since our 
 acquaintance, to lead you to imagine that I could violate the purity 
 of my womanhood in favour of a man who evidently does not 
 know how to appreciate a woman's virtue ? Though considered 
 an outcast by my countrymen, I am, nevertheless, not destitute. 
 I have a home in which there is no deficiency of comfort, and the 
 means of this world's enjoyments are abundantly within my reach. 
 \Vhy then should you imagine that I am prepared to sacrifice my 
 honour to the base passions of a Mahomedan noble ? I despise 
 your love — I reject your alliance ; from this moment we are 
 strangers to each other." 
 
 She waited not her lover's reply, but retired from the veranda. 
 
 Her parents were surprised at observing the change which had 
 passed over the beautiful countenance of their daughter. She ap- 
 peared dejected : the bright smile had ceased to play upon her sunny 
 face, and her cheek was pale. The minister's son paid his usual 
 visit, but Yhahil refused to see him. She disclosed to her father 
 the cause of her coldness ; he approved of her resolution, and the 
 handsome Mahomedan was forbidden the house. He frequently 
 attempted to obtain admission, but was always refused. He sent 
 billets, — they were returned unopened. The force of his passion 
 rose in proportion as it met with resistance, and he resolved to see 
 the object who had excited within his boeom such intense emotioa 
 He appealed to the father, but found him inexorable ; the mothel 
 was a cipher, and refused to interfere. He became impetuous ; 
 this only provoked a more determined opposition. Yhaliil would
 
 THE PARlAt^. S93 
 
 not see him, and interdicted his messengers from being ad- 
 mitted to her presence. 
 
 The disappointed lover ceased not to encoin-age his passion, 
 though it was no longer requited. He became more than ever 
 anxious to possess the object of his attachment upon any terms, 
 »ven at the hazard of incumng the general odium of his countrymen. 
 
 Yhahil used frequenUy to walk in the suburbs of the town, ac- 
 companied by a single female attendant. The restraints imposed 
 generally upon Hindoo women had no influence upon her. She 
 appeared abroad daily without reluctance. She had not seen the 
 minister's son since her rejection of him, though her wanderings 
 were never restricted. The mortification occasioned by his pro- 
 posal had bowed her proud spirit, and she was determined to treat 
 him with repelling scorn, should he ever cross her path. For the 
 present she was spared this exercise of her indignation. 
 
 One morning she went out as usual, but did not return at her 
 accustomed hour. After a while her parents became uneasy. 
 Evening drew on and neither their daughter nor her attendant ap- 
 peared. Night advanced, and her place at the family meal was 
 unoccupied. Their distress was excessive. The next day passed, 
 and she did not return. A dark suspicion crossed the parents" 
 mind that she had fallen into the Mahomedan's hands, and that 
 he had forcibly removed her from her home. 
 
 " There is but one way of frustrating the evil designs of that 
 man," said the father to his sorrowing consort. " I will throw 
 myself upon the Emperor's justice, and beseech him to enforce the 
 restoration of my child. He is a mild and merciful prince, whose 
 clemency is only excelled by his justice. He will remember diat 
 I once saved his life, and force the son of his minister to restore 
 ray daughter." 
 
 " Alas !" said the mother, " princes are apt to think too lightly of 
 the moral delinquencies of their nobles to imagine there is much 
 enormity in taking away the daughter of an outcast." 
 
 " I have better hopes of the raan who has been taught in the 
 school of adversity the difficult lesson of virtue. Cast from his 
 throne to wander for several years among strangers, he has per*
 
 294 THE PARIAH. 
 
 sonaHy* known wliat it is to sufifer privation. Since his restoration 
 to sovereignty he lias exercised the best virtues of a king. Why 
 then should I distrust the equity of a man whom I have known 
 by experience to be generous, and whom all acknowledge to be 
 just." 
 
 " But how will you obtain an audience?" 
 
 " I will cast myself at his feet at the next durbar, and implors 
 the royal interference to obtain the restoration of my child. It ii 
 not much to ask from one who, though he has cancelled one bond 
 of obligation, may still do a supernumerary kindness to the man 
 who risked a valueless life to save that which has been a blessing 
 to his people." 
 
 The unhappy father detennined to throw himself upon the kind- 
 ness of the Mogul monarch on the very next day of audience, and, 
 Iiaving come to this resolution, his hopes, of again beholding his 
 daughter immediately began to revive. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON the next day of public audience the bereaved parent 
 repaired to the Dewan Aum, or Hall of Public Audience. 
 When he entered he was dazzled by the extraordinary splendour 
 of the scene. The musnud upon which the Emperor sat was so 
 costly a work as to be one of the marvels of the age. It was in 
 the form of a peacock mth the tail outspread, entirely composed 
 of diamonds and other precious stones. It was valued at seven 
 crore of rupees.* The apartment was built entirely of white 
 marble, and richly ornamented with representations of various 
 flowers. Over tlie arches which supported the roof was the follow- 
 ing inscription in Persian characters, beautifully inlaid with silver 
 on a ground of dark, but brilliantly polished marble — " If ther& 
 be a heaven upon earth, it is here, it is here, it is here." The 
 letters were admirably formed, and distinctly legible from the floor. 
 
 About seven millions sterling.
 
 THE PARIAH. 295 
 
 In this hall, beside the throne, was an immense block of crystal, 
 upon which the Emperor used to sit when he held private audience 
 with his ministers. It was sufticienily broad to have formed a 
 table. The apartment was lighted by a dome, the largest in tho 
 palace, richly inlaid with gold. 
 
 When the Pariah entered, the hall was nearly filled. As he 
 attempted to approach the royal presence, he was stopped by one 
 of the guards. 
 
 " Whom do you seek here ?" asked the soldier. 
 
 "Your sovereign." 
 
 " He does not hold conference with strangers, especially upon 
 days of state ceremony." 
 
 " Your king is reported wise, and not only wise, but just. I 
 come to offer an appeal to his royal justice; and you do both liim 
 and me wrong by defrauding him of the opportunity of exercising 
 his justice, and me of receiving that benefit from it which, if 
 report do not belie him, he would be delighted to confer." 
 
 " Are you not a Pariah ?" 
 
 " What then } Are the natural rights of man less my nature's 
 privilege than another's ? Mahomedans do not despise Pariahs, 
 and your sovereign least of any." 
 
 *' You cannot have audience here." 
 
 ''Why?" 
 
 " Because this place is appropriated to the ceremonies and 
 business of state. You must send a petition." 
 
 " Nay, soldier, I must see your kin? : .vrthhold me at your 
 peril !" 
 
 " Advance but a single step further, and I shall cut you down." 
 
 " My blood, then, be upon your head." 
 
 The Pariah stepped forward ; the soldier did his best to put his 
 threat into execution, but his intended victim had sprung beyond 
 the reach of the stroke. 
 
 "Justice !" he cried, in a loud shrill voice, that rang through the 
 hall ; "justice from the Emperor of the Moguls." 
 
 "Who is it that demands justice?" asked Humayoon, with mild 
 dignity ; " let him approach."
 
 2gS THE PARIAH. 
 
 The stranger immediately advanced, and prostrated himself 
 before the King. 
 
 " Rise !" said the Emperor, "and state your cause of gi'ievance, 
 if you have any." 
 
 The petitioner rose, and was instantly recognised by th3 
 sovereign. 
 
 " Vuluvir !" he cried — " do I behold him to whom I am in- 
 debted above all men in my doTdnions T 
 
 The Emperor descended from the musnud, raised the Pariah 
 and embraced him, to the surprise of his court. 
 
 "Nobles," said he, "to this outcast from his own community I 
 owe my life. When pursued by the emissaries of him who had 
 usurped my throne, I cast myself into a river and was nearly 
 drowned. This generous benefactor, although then grievously 
 prostrated by famine, plunged into the stream, and, as I was 
 sinking, dragged me to the bank. In his dwelling I found an 
 asylum. He watched by my lonely couch while the paroxysms of 
 fever were upon me, moistened my parched lips, wiped from my 
 forehead the dews of agony, and restored me to life. My debt to 
 him is such as my empire could not repay." 
 
 " Nay, mighty King," cried Vuluvir, while the big tear rolled 
 slowly down his cheek, " that deed of common charity was 
 abundantly requited. The two thousand rupees with which your 
 gracious liberality honoured me, were the foundation of my pre- 
 sent affluence. Upon them I have erected a fortune which might 
 place me in that respect upon a level with nobility ; but I am still 
 a miserable man." 
 
 " State your cause of grievance," said the Emperor, leading him 
 to the block of crystal, upon which he desired him to be seated. 
 Humayoon having taken his place upon the musnud, Vuluvir said, 
 touching the floor with his fingers and putting them to his forehead — 
 
 " Sovereign of the Moguls, I have a daughter, the child whom 
 you once fondled in your royal arms, and who has since often ex- 
 pressed her pride in having received those caresses. That 
 daughter I may say, without a parent's vanity, is a creature 
 endowed with the highest perfections of woman. She is the joy
 
 THE PARIAH. «97 
 
 of my heart, and her loss would be a bane which I reel I could 
 not survive. She has been stolen from me." 
 
 " I remember thy daughter well, Vuluvir ; she promised to be 
 all thou sayest. But who has robbed thee of her ?— say, and to 
 the farthest limits of my dominions he shall be sought and visited 
 with the chastisement he deserves." 
 
 " I attribute her abduction to the son of your minister." 
 
 " Son of Beiram, stand forth," said the Emperor, solemnly ; 
 " what have you to answer to this charge ?" 
 
 The young Omrah was silent. 
 
 "What construction am I to put upon your silence?" asked 
 Humayoon, sternly. 
 
 " I plead guilty to the charge : I am at the Emperor's mercy." 
 
 "Vuluvir," said Humayoon, turning to his former host, "your 
 wrong shall be redressed, and your daughter restored." 
 
 The offender was immediately committed to the custody of an 
 officer ; and that very night Yhahil was delivered to the arms of 
 her anxious parents. 
 
 The next day, Vuluvir was summoned to the imperial presence. 
 " My friend," said the sovereign, " I know that the religion you 
 profess is one from which you derive little consolation, and to 
 which none of your tribe are bound by very strong attachments. 
 It is my intention to ennoble you, provided you consent to be- 
 come one of the faithful ; and in your conversion I shall look for 
 that of your family." After a conference of some length, the 
 Variah embraced the Emperor's proposal ; and the next day was 
 raised to the rank of Omrah, with a sum from the treasury suffi- 
 cient to support that dignity. His wife and Yhahil became, like- 
 wise, converts to the new faith. The idea of being now naturalised 
 among a people who welcomed her and her parents as their 
 common kindred, poured a flood of joy upon Yhahil's heart. She 
 felt no longer degraded, and began to soften in her indignation to- 
 wards the man who forced her from her home. He had, however, 
 committed no violence. She had been carried to a house engaged 
 for the purpose of securing her; but, when there, the noble only 
 pressed his su't without offering the slightest offence to her purity.
 
 298 THE PARIAH. 
 
 She repelled his advances with unquaHfied Indignation ; he treated 
 her, nevertlieless, with uniform respect. The recollection of this 
 disarmed her anger, and she besought her father to solicit his 
 release. 
 
 "My daughter," said he, embracing her, "you have always 
 found me ready to meet every wish of your heart, but in the pre- 
 sent instance I have secret misgivings which deter me from com- 
 pliance. To come at once to the point, I fear the violence of that 
 young noble." 
 
 Yhahil smiled. — " His violence, my father, was not shown 
 when I was in his power, and I can forgive his rashness in his 
 forbearance." 
 
 " But, surely, the man who would forcibly tear a daughter from 
 her parent's roof is to be feared." 
 
 " I do believe — nay I am sure, that he loves me ; and though 
 he sought to win me to a dishonourable intercourse while I was a 
 Pariah, I think he might no longer hesitate to wed me as an 
 Omrah's daughter. I love him, father. He must be liberated for 
 my sake. If we should ever meet in future, it will be as honour- 
 able lovers, or as strangers, but I must no longer be the cause of 
 his captivity." 
 
 " I will seek the Emperor and make known your wishes, 
 but " 
 
 " My father, listen to me : ray mortal destiny has been traced. 
 Before I quitted our dweUing m the land of my birth, I sought the 
 abode of the jiggerkhar. Her revelations have been marvellously 
 fulfilled — the consummation only remains. She promised me 
 wedded happiness, and I feel I shall enjoy it." 
 
 " Enough, my child, your desire shall be instantly accom- 
 plished ;" and the converted outcast was admitted without delay 
 to the presence of Humayoon. 
 
 "Well, Mahomed Chan," — the name ^vhich had been bestowed 
 upon the newly-made Omrah, — asked the Monarch, " what seek 
 you?" 
 
 "The release of your minister's son. It is at my child's solici' 
 tation that I venture to ask this favour."
 
 nm PARIAH. 299 
 
 " He shall never have his liberty until he makes your daughter 
 full reparation for the insult he has offered her. It is necessary 
 that the noble should suffer punishment for his violations of the 
 law, else with what justice can we punish the humbler delin- 
 quent ?" 
 
 " My daughter has forgiven him : he offered her no personal 
 disrespect, save in forcing her from her home." 
 
 " One of the greatest infractions of public decorum," cried the 
 sovereign, hastily ; " and a most reprehensible trespass upon the 
 sanctity of private life. His liberty shall be .JDuditional. He has 
 violated the obligations of honour as well as the laws of his 
 country ; he must therefore pay the penalty." 
 
 Humayoon ordered the offender to be brought before him, and. 
 after upbraiding him with having committed a scandalous offence, 
 asked him if he was ready to repair the wrong he had done to the 
 lovely Yhahil. 
 
 '■'■ If marrying her will be considered a sufficient reparation of 
 the injury I have unadvisedly inflicted, I am prepared to offer that 
 reparation on the instant." 
 
 " I know not," said Mahomed Chan, " that my child may be 
 willing to accept the man who has offered her so serious an insult ; 
 but if you will accompany me to my home you can urge youj 
 suit." 
 
 " Upon condition that he becomes the husband of her whom he 
 has so grossly offended I grant hini his liberty," said the Emperior ; 
 " otherwise his captivity will be for life." 
 
 The father returned to his home with the minister's son, whom he 
 presented to Yhahil. She received him with withering coldness. 
 He flung himself at her feet. 
 
 " I acknowledge my fault," he cried, passionately. " I have 
 wronged you — grievously wronged the object of my soul's adoration, 
 and come to repair the wrong I have done by making her the 
 partner of my life. I feel she would ennoble a diadem. Will you 
 become mine ?" 
 
 "Can you think I have reason to trust you?" 
 
 <' Yes — you know that passion impelled me to act as I did ; love
 
 300 THE PARIAH. 
 
 was at the bottom of it, and if you have a woman's heart you will 
 
 forgive me." 
 
 Yhahil smiled ; the young Omrali rose and clasped her to his 
 bosom. — "You are mine for ever; this day shall consummate our 
 union. I shall receive my freedom from the sovereign only to 
 cast over my heart the golden fetters of bliss." 
 
 Yhahil yielded to his embrace ; there was joy in the late house 
 of mourning. On that very day the lovers were married. The 
 Mogul Emperor honoured their union with his presence, and 
 ratified it with his bli ^ising. The jiggerkhar's prophecy was accom- 
 plished, and never w^s there a happier union than that formed 
 between the Pariah's daughter and the Minister's son.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 964 (a.D. 1556). — The young King Akbar fought a desperate batlte 
 at Paniput against Hamoo, vizier of Mahomed Shall Adily, who now claimed 
 the throne. During the action, fifteen hundred elephants fell into the hands 
 of Akbar, who, marching from Paniput, reached Delhi without opposition. 
 Mankote was delivered up to the King after a siege of six months. 
 
 Heg. 965 (1558). — A reconciliation took place between Akbar and Beiram 
 Chan, whirh was cemented by the latter marrying Sulima Sultana Begum, 
 niece of the late Humayoon, which took place with consent of the King, who 
 was present at the nuptials. Shortly afterwards the breach was renewed be- 
 tween the King and the Regent. 
 
 Heg. 966 (155S). — Beiram Chan assembled troops, in order to establish 
 himself in the tunjab. Upon Akbar despatching a messenger to him, Beiram 
 sent the ensigns of ptate, his elephants, banners and drums to the King, and 
 declared his Inteuticn of proceeding, to Mecca. 
 
 Heg. 967 (1559). — Beiram Chan having proceeded as far as Bhickanere, re- 
 pented of his resolution to relinquish public life, returned to Nagoor, and be- 
 gan to levy troops. The King sent against him Moolla Peer Mahomed, who 
 had lately returned from exile, to which he had been sent by the regent. 
 
 Heg. 968 (1560). — The ex-minister being reduced to the greatest distress, 
 resolved to throw himself upon the King's mercy. Akbar accepted his sub- 
 mission. On entering the court, Beiram hung liis turban round his neck, and 
 advancing rapidly, threw himself at the foot of the throne. Akbar, stretching 
 out his hand, desired him to rise, and placed him in his former station at the 
 head of his nobles. 
 
 Heg. 969 (1561). — One day, while hunting in the vicinity of Nurwar, a royal 
 tiger crossed the road. The King urged his horse forward, and with a single 
 sabre-stroke stretched it dead upon the plain. The nobles present, in the 
 excess of their joy, ran to kiss the royal stirrup, and offered thanks to God for 
 his preservation. 
 
 Heg. 970 (1562). — Sulim Shah having taken a number of Ghoorkas prisoners 
 in war, ordered a prison at Gualior, wherein they were confined, to be blown 
 op with gunpowder. Upon this occasion Kumal Ghoorka had the good fortune 
 to escape, being only thrown to some distance, without receiving any consider- 
 able injury. 
 
 Heg. 971 (1563). — Akbar returning from Nurwar towards his capital, fell in
 
 303 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 with a herd of \vild elephants. He ordered his cavahy to surround and drive 
 them into a kedda, or fold, which was effected with some difficulty. One of 
 the male elephants, finding itself confined, broke through the palisades. Three 
 *rained elephants were despatched to secure it, and, before it was ovei-powered, 
 it afforded the King much sport. 
 
 Heg. 972 (1564). — Akbar quelled a formidable conspiracy of Usbeck chiefs. 
 
 Heg. 973 (1566). — Juanpoor was captured by Akbar's armies. 
 
 Heg. 974 (1566). — The Usbeck chiefs again rebelled, and were subdued. 
 
 Heg. 975 (1567). — This year was distinguished by the siege of Chittore, 
 in which were eight thousand Rajpoots, with an ample supply of provisions. 
 The King having invested the fort, employed five thousand workmen of 
 different descriptions to conduct the siege. The approaches were made by 
 sabat, a description of defence peculiar to India. The besiegers are protected 
 by stuffed gabions, covered with leather, behind which they continue their 
 approaches until they arrive near the walls of the place to be attacked. The 
 governor appearing on the walls was shot with a matchlock by the King. The 
 Rajpoots immediately performed the Johur, putting their wives and children 
 to death. The fort was stormed by the Moguls, who obtained possession of it 
 without further resistance. 
 
 Heg. 976 (1568). — Akbar obtained possession of Runtunbhore. 
 
 Heg. 977 (1569). — The favourite sultana gave birth to Prince Selim, who 
 afterwards reigned under the name of Jehangire. 
 
 Heg. 978 (1570). — Prince Morad was born. 
 
 Heg. 980 (1572). — Akbar defeated Ibrahim Hoossein Mirza, and laid siege 
 to Surat, which surrendered, and tlie King returned to Agra. 
 
 Heg. 983 (1575). — The Afghans were defeated by the King's troops, and ■ 
 their general was taken prisoner. He was put to death by the Mogul leader, 
 and his son, who had been severely wounded in the action, died a few days 
 after. The Mogul general took possession of all Bengal, and sent the elephants 
 and other spoils to the King. 
 
 Heg. 984 (1576). — Akbar went this year to Ajmere, and employed Shahbaz 
 Chan Kumbo against Koombulmere, a strong fortress, in possession of the 
 Rana of Oodipore, which was eventually taken. 
 
 Heg. 986 (1578). — Died Hoossein Koolly Chan Toorkoman, governor of 
 Bengal. 
 
 Heg. 987 (1579). — A great fire happened in the Furash Khana, at Futte- 
 pore, which consumed many tents, lined with velvet and brocade of great 
 value. 
 
 Heg. 989 (1581). — The King's brother, Mahomed Hukeen Mirza, invested 
 Lahore. 
 
 Heg. 991 (15S3). — The King was taken dangerously ill, and the people 
 became ajiprcl/ ensive of his death ; but he recovered, and bestowed large suias 
 in charity.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 303 
 
 Heg. 992(1584). — Mirza Klian was defeated by Akbar's troops in a san- 
 guinary battle. 
 
 Heg. 993 (1585). — Prince Selim, who afterwards ascended the throne unde! 
 the title of Jehangire, married the daughter of Rajah Bhugwandas. 
 
 Heg. 995(1586-7). — This year the daughter of Ray Singh was likewis: 
 manied to Prince Selim. 
 
 Heg. 997 (1589). — Died the learned Azd-ood-Dowla Shirazz, who hadlatel_> 
 /ome from Guzerat. 
 
 Heg. 998 (1589). — Mirza Azeez Koka was appointed governor of Guzerat. 
 
 Heg. 1004 (1596). — The Prince Morad Mirza and Mirza Chan laid siege to 
 Ahmednugger, but finally entered into negotiations with the besieged, by 
 which it was stipulated that they should still retain possession, but that Akbar 
 should have the province of Berar. 
 
 Heg. !Oii (1602). — The celebrated Abul Fazel was attacked by banditti on 
 his way from the Deccan to the capital, and murdered. 
 
 Heg. 1014 (1605). — Akbar died after a prosperous and glorious reign of 
 fifty-one years and some mouths. He was certainly the greatest of the Mogul 
 monarchs.
 
 ^^t §thna of €\^xiktt. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I'^HE Governor of Chittore was upon the lamparts observing 
 the progress of the enemy, who were making their ap- 
 proaches behind wicker frames filled with earth and covered with 
 leather. The town was plentifully supplied with provisions ; the 
 garrison consisted of eight thousand Rajpoots, and it was deter- 
 mined to resist whilst a stone remained in the battlements. The 
 siege had already continued six weeks, directed by Akbar in 
 person, but no material effect had been produced. The besieged 
 fought with that determined spirit peculiar to the Rajpoot 
 character. The fortifications were of great strength, and although 
 the garrison had made several desperate salHes, their loss had 
 hitherto been insignificant. 
 
 Akbar was vexed at being detained so long before the place, as 
 he was in the habit of carrying much more promptly the towns 
 which he invested with his armies. He, however, knew the 
 strength of the garrison, was well acquainted with the characters 
 of the men who composed it, and had therefore made up his mind 
 that Chittore would not be an easy conquest. 
 
 While the governor was standing on the ramparts, he was joined 
 by his wife, a handsome woman, under thirty, although the mother 
 of two marriageable daughters. 
 
 " Jugmul," she said, whilst a glance of fire shot from her dilated 
 eye, "will these scoffers of our gods prevail?" 
 
 " I know not — their king is brave."
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHltTORE. gOj 
 
 "Is there a living soul within these walls of whom you cannot 
 say as much ?" 
 
 " I trust not; but he is likewise a successful general, and success 
 is not the issue of chance, but of talent." 
 
 " Have we not encountered both before now?" 
 
 " Yes ; but the latter has its degrees, and the interval between 
 great and little is extreme." 
 
 " Then you despair of driving these Moslems from before our 
 walls." 
 
 " You know that a Rajpoot never despairs. Nevertheless, of this 
 I am certain, that nothing but a desperate resistance and an 
 extensive destruction of the enemy will cause him to relinquish 
 his present purpose." 
 
 "Jugmul, he knows not that there are women within this 
 fortress who fear not to encounter his men in a struggle of death. 
 Let him beware how he provokes such a collision." 
 
 " You miscalculate the energies of the wives and daughters of 
 Chittore, if you measure them by your own." 
 
 " Should the extremity arrive, it will be seen whether I have 
 misjudged my countrywomen. Meanwhile, Jugmul, I claim to be 
 a partner in your toils, and to share the glory as well as the labour 
 of your resistance to this Moslem sovereign. It is but just that 
 the wife should partake of her husband's honours, of which I trust 
 you are about to reap a full harvest." 
 
 At this time, Chittore was invested by an army of thirty thousand 
 men, commanded by Akbar in person, acknowledged the greatest 
 leader of his age ; yet this did not dispirit the governor's wife, 
 who was evidently more sanguine than her husband in the valour 
 and resources of the garrison. Her eldest daughter, a lovely girl 
 of sixteen, was engaged to a young Rajpoot chief, who when the 
 siege commenced had thrown himself into Chittore with a few 
 resolute followers. 
 
 Peirup Singh had not only the qualities of daring valour and 
 indomitable resolution in common with his race, but was more- 
 over young, handsome, and intelligent. He was ardently attached 
 to the beautiful Kherla Nuny, though she had not yet experienced 
 
 INDIA. X
 
 3o6 THE DEFENCE OP cniTTOEH. 
 
 the glow of fervent affection. The young Rajpoot had been the 
 choice of her parents, not of herself; her feelings, therefore, 
 towards him, when brought to a sum, would have formed a tota' 
 amounting to little more than indifference. She felt no objection 
 to the choice of her parents, for she had no reason on the score 
 of his general qualities ; but she did not love him. 
 
 Peirup Singh was anxious that their nuptials should immediately 
 take place, notwithstanding the siege, which had already been 
 going on several weeks ; and from the strength of the garrison, 
 and the resolution of the foe, there was every reason to apprehend 
 :'nat it would ruDt be terminated for some months to come. He 
 therefore sought the Rajpootni to propose an immediate fulfilment 
 of his wishes. 
 
 "Kherla," said he, "youth is the beautiful season of life; but 
 in proportion as it is beautiful it is fleeting. The hours of enjoy- 
 ment are sparely meted out to us, it were therefore unwise to cast 
 any away. I rejoice in the possession of your love, but would be 
 made happy in the possession of you." 
 
 " Peirup Singh," replied the noble girl, "you have been promised 
 that possession, and shall have it when the season comes ; but 
 I could not wed amid the dangers which surround us. When 
 your valour has contributed to drive the enemy from our walls, I 
 will give myself up to your future good guidance." 
 
 "But why delay my happiness? Think you I shall fight less 
 effectually as your husband tlian as your lover ?" 
 
 " I know not ; but I would be the spouse of a brave man. You 
 bave die reputation of being such, yet I have had no proof of it 
 Vmple opportunity is now afforded you of showing that you/ 
 reputation does not fall below your merit." 
 
 " Ha ! must I prove my claim to your love, Kherla? This is 
 rather a mortifying exaction." 
 
 " Not to a brave man, who is always proud to ratify by deeds 
 of arms the reputation to which he lays claim." 
 
 " But I promise you, the moment you are mine I will give you 
 fhose proofs you require that your husband is unable to dishonour 
 the name of Rajpoot."
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHIT TORE. 307 
 
 •*Nay, Peirup Singh, the siege is still going on. I cannot com- 
 ply with your wishes until the Moslem tyrant is either slain or 
 driven from the neighbourhood of our homes. If you were to 
 steep your sabre in his heart's blood, my consent to an immediate 
 union would be won. It may be worth your thinking of, Peirup 
 Singh." 
 
 In Akbar's army was a Rajpoot, who having quitted Chittore in 
 disgust, had enrolled himself among the Mogul troops. The cause 
 of his abandoning his countrymen was this : — Having become 
 attached to the younger daughter of the governor, who encouraged 
 his addresses, her parents had refused their consent, not con- 
 sidering him eligible in point of rank for such an alliance. The 
 girl, in consequence, implicitly obeying the directions of her 
 parents, rejected him. His mortification was extreme. 
 
 All the passions of these fierce warriors are proportionably strong, 
 and his disappointed feelings immediately urged him to an act of 
 treachery. He went over to the enemy, and made those com- 
 munications which greatly facilitated the progress of the siege. 
 Akbar well knew how to profit by the information received, but 
 did not trust the man beyond the line of wary policy. Tho 
 Rajpoot was allowed to see nothing by which he could betray the 
 Emperors designs to his countrymen, yet he was apparently treated 
 with confidence and kindness. He, however, soon perceived that 
 he was suspected. This discovery raised his indignation, and he 
 immediately embraced the hollow maxim, suggested by hi;, 
 passions, that the man suspected of being a traitor is justified in 
 becoming one. He was a fierce hot-blooded desperado, who 
 sacrificed everything to the gratification of his feelings. Thinking 
 that he might by a second act of treachery win the consent of 
 Jugmul to wed his daughter, and thus gratify at once his love and 
 liis revenge, he determined to seek the governor of Chittore. 
 and propose, as the price of his consent, to slay the Mogul 
 monarch. 
 
 The first difficulty was to obtain admission into the fort. Aware 
 that on one side, where the wall was so high as almost to preclude 
 the possibility of scaling it, the sentries posted were fewer and less 
 
 X 2
 
 3o8 TH& DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 
 
 \igilant, he fesolved alone to attempt to climb the wall in this 
 spot. One dark night, having provided himself with several spikes 
 about nine inches long, he proceeded cautiously to the rampart. 
 He had quitted the camp unknown to any one, having passed the 
 sentries by daylight without suspicion, upon some natural pretence. 
 When he reached the base of the rampart, which was here at least 
 eighty feet high, he began to try his spikes upon the masonry. 
 The stones were laid one on the other without cement, so that the 
 interstices between them were sufficiently spacious to admit, with 
 a little management, the introduction of his spikes. Fixing the 
 first about a yard from the ground he stood on it, and placing 
 another a foot above it he again raised himself, and pursuing this 
 plan with cool perseverance, in spite of the great peril, he at 
 length reached the summit of the battlement. 
 
 Whilst he was thus ascending, whh the patient earnestness of a 
 man who has a personal feeling to gratify, the sentinel above was 
 fortunately whiHng away the hours by chanting one of his native 
 songs, which prevented him from hearing any sound made during 
 this perilous ascent. 
 
 Previously to attempting the wall, the Rajpoot had cast off his 
 dress, so that, the night being dark, the deep hue of his skin was 
 not likely to be perceived by any eye that might look over the 
 parapet. The white tunic of the soldier upon the ramparts, on 
 the contrary, rendered him visible to a considerable distance 
 through the darkness. When the Rajpoot reached the summit, he 
 'iprang over the parapet as the sentinel was leisurely walking from 
 him. Having fairly gained the ramparts, he went deliberately up 
 to the soldier, and, addressing him as if he were one of the 
 garrison, had no difficulty in accounting for his appearance without 
 exciting suspicion. Seeing that he was one of his own caste, the 
 unsuspecting Hindoo entertained no doubt of his belonging to 
 the troops under the command of Jugmul, and consequently 
 allowed him to proceed without further interruption. The 
 Rajpoot threw himself under the portico of a temple, and slept 
 soundly until morning. At an early hour he appeared before tlie 
 governor.
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 309 
 
 " You are, no doubt, surprised," said he, " to behold me again 
 within these walls. You have considered me a traitor, but I shall 
 be able to prove to you that you have been deceived, and to 
 show that I may be the means of saving this town from the 
 cruelty of a vindictive foe." 
 
 " The man who, under the emotions of anger, seeks an enemy's 
 camp," said Jugmul, " is to be suspected." 
 
 " But you cannot be ignorant that by seeking the enemy's camp, 
 I may have obtained tht«t information which will enable you to 
 foil his approaches, and save the lives and properties of those 
 under your government." 
 
 " Show me that you have done so before you expect that 1 
 should believe you are not a traitor." 
 
 " I have now sought you to make a proposal for the benefit of 
 all within this fortress." 
 
 " Declare it." 
 
 " Upon certain conditions I undertake to kill the Moslem 
 Sovereign." 
 
 " What are they ?" 
 
 " That you will give me your daughter in marriage." 
 
 " Had I twenty daughters I should not think it too great a 
 reward for so signal a service. Destroy the tyrant who has led 
 his troops before our walls, and I pledge myself to give you 
 my daughter with an ample dowry." 
 
 " I promise, at least, to attempt his death, and nothing but 
 my own will secure his safety." 
 
 "I need not tell you that you are believed to have deserted 
 to the enemy from an impulse of revenge towards me. When 
 once an impression of this kind is excited in the breasts of brave 
 and honourable men, it is no easy thing to remove it. If you can 
 accomplish what you propose you will be immediately restored 
 to the good opinion which, so far as now appears, you have justly 
 forfeited." 
 
 The Rajpoot was sufficiently satisfied with his reception, but, 
 when he desired to see the object of his attachment, her fathet 
 replied :—
 
 3IO THE DEFENCE OP CHITTORB, 
 
 " No. You are still under the imputation of treachery ; that 
 imputation must be removed before you can have any inter- 
 course with my daughter." 
 
 " Do you suspect my integrity?" 
 
 " I have no warranty for your honesty, and therefore till you 
 show that your absence from the city was not dishonourable to 
 you, I can look upon you in no other light than that of a traitor." 
 
 " Treat me as a traitor then, and order me to be flung from 
 yonder battlements." 
 
 " No ! )0u have undertaken to prove your zeal for the welfare 
 of your co\mtry, and I should be loth to deprive you of the 
 opportunity." 
 
 " Will you believe me faithful if I make a vacancy in the 
 Mogul sovereignty before the waning of another moon ?" 
 
 " The destruction of the Moslem king will restore you to my 
 confidence, and to that of your countrymen." 
 
 The Rajpoot returned to Akbar's camp. His absence had 
 been noticed. He was summoned before the Monarch. When 
 he entered the presence, Akbar eyed him with keen and significant 
 scrutiny, but the man did not blanch. 
 
 " Soldier," said the Emperor, " you were absent last night from 
 the camp. What was the object of your absence ?" 
 
 " The king's interest." 
 
 "The king's interest is not to be promoted by a breach of 
 discipline." 
 
 " I obtained admission into the fort, and have done the base 
 work of a spy for the benefit of my country's enemy." 
 
 The Emperor was silent for a moment, but his eye fixed with 
 an intense expression of inquiry upon the traitor. " AVhat did 
 you learn ?" he at length inquired. 
 
 " That a sally will be made by some of the choicest troops of 
 the garrison, on the second morrow from the present. The 
 governor is determined to suff'er extermination rather than 
 capitulate, and has employed a secret assassin to take the Sove- 
 reign's hfe." 
 
 " Know you where he lurks ?"
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORR. 311 
 
 * In the Moslem camp." 
 
 Akbar was not to be deceived by this flimsy artifice. He had 
 too acute a perception of human motives to be persuaded that a 
 man would thus gratuitously hazard his Hfe for the interests of one 
 to whom he was nationally an enemy, but he disguised his suspi- 
 cions, and ordered the soldier to take his bow, in the use of which 
 he was reported to be singularly expert, and accompany him 
 before the enemy's walls. The Emperor was attended by only a 
 few followers ; a syce* led a horse behind his royal master. 
 
 When they were within bow-shot of the ramparts seeing a 
 group of the foe so near, the besieged crowded to the battle- 
 ments, expecting that it was the preliminary of an assault. The 
 governor was visible above the rest by his elevated stature. 
 
 "Now," said Akbar to the Rajpoot, "prove to me the truth of 
 what you have lately represented by sending an arrow into the 
 brain of yonder chief." 
 
 The Rajpoot affected to comply, and advanced gradually to- 
 wards the syce, who was leading the Emperor's charger, and now 
 stood nearly on a line with the royal group, a few yards to the 
 lefc. The Rajpoot having placed himself beside this man, fixed 
 an arrow in the string of his bow, and directed it towards the 
 rampart. While the eyes of Akbar and his attendants were gazing 
 upon the object towards which they expected every moment to 
 see the arrow winged, the soldier, suddenly turning, discharged his 
 shaft direct at the Sovereign. It pierced his shoulder and fixed 
 in the bone. The Hindoo instantly flung down his bow, drew his 
 dagger, and stabbing to the heart the attendant who was holding 
 his royal master's horse, vaulted upon its back, plunged his heels 
 in its sides, and darted towards the city with the velocity of a 
 thunderbolt. 
 
 The nobles stood amazed. Akbar's eye glanced fire, but he 
 was silent, and walked back to the camp, where the arrow A\as 
 with some difficulty extracted. He was unable to quit his tent 
 for some days; but within a fortnight llic uoujid was healed. 
 
 * An Indian groom.
 
 3ia THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE, 
 
 Meanwhile, the Rajpoot, after he had discharged the arrow, 
 rode to the city gate, and was immediately admitted. What he 
 had done was reported to the governor, who immediately granted 
 him an interview. 
 
 " I now come to claim my bride — my arrow has pierced th^* 
 Moslem king." 
 
 " Is he slain ?" 
 
 " It is impossible he should survive.** 
 
 " It will be time to fulfil the conditions of a promise when it is 
 proved that tlie contract has been completed according to the 
 terms stipulated." 
 
 It was soon known in the besieged city that Akbar was recover 
 ing from his wound. 
 
 The Rajpoot was again summoned before the governor. 
 
 "You have failed," said Jugmul, "to perform your under- 
 taking." The man's brow contracted. " My pledge is, there- 
 fore, cancelled ; and I now determine that you shall pay the 
 penalty of a double treachery. Though a traitor to your country, 
 had you been the successful instrument of its vengeance, however 
 base the motives, your life should have been spared, and my child 
 have become a sacrifice : as it is you are not worthy of confidence, 
 and therefore deserve to die." 
 
 He was immediately conducted to the Mahomedan camp, 
 under a guard, with a letter from the governor to the Emperor, 
 stating, that he gave up the traitor to be dealt with as the 
 Mahomedan sovereign should deem proper. Akbar sent back the 
 guard with a courteous message, and ordering one of the state 
 elephants to be brought before him, commanded the traitor to 
 stand forth. The man advanced with an undaunted countenance, 
 expressing an utter contempt of death. He crossed his arms over 
 his breast, and directed towards the Monarch a look of defiance. 
 At a signal from the royal hand, the elephant was urged forward 
 by the mahout, and, upon reaching the criminal, it felled him to 
 the earth with his trunk, placed its huge foot upon his body, and 
 instantly trod him to death.
 
 !I«3 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE siege now proceeded with vigour. The Emperor gave 
 orders that approaches should be made by a sabut, a de- 
 scription of defence for the besiegers pecuHar to India. They 
 Mere conducted in the following manner : — the zigzags, com- 
 menced at gun-shot distance from the fort, consisted of a double 
 wall, and by means of blinds or stuffed gabions, covered with 
 leather, the besiegers continued their approaches till they arrived 
 near the walls of the place to be attacked. The miners then pro- 
 ceeded to sink their shafts, and carry on their galleries under 
 ground, for the construction of the mines ; in which, having placed 
 the powder and blown up the works, the storming party rushed 
 from the sabut, or superficial galleries, to assault the place.* On 
 the present occasion, two sabuts or superficial galleries having 
 been constructed, two mines were carried, under bastions, at 
 different spots. 
 
 Akbar being determined to obtain possession of the place, at 
 whatever cost, daily inspected the working of the mines, which 
 were prepared with great expedition. Several sallies were made 
 by the besieged, which, though well directed and vigorously main- 
 tained, were invariably repulsed by the steady discipHne of the 
 Mogul troops. 
 
 Encouraged by the presence of their sovereign, the miners 
 worked with incredible diligence, and the soldiers displayed a 
 valour against the frequent sorties of the besieged, which com- 
 pletely repelled the headlong valour of the Rajpoots. Akbar 
 marked with his especial notice, not only every officer, but like- 
 vise every common soldier who distinguished himself; and thus, 
 oesides securing the affection of his army, excited deeds of indi- 
 vidual heroism and of united valour, as gratifying to him as they 
 were astonishing to the foe. 
 
 See Brigg's translation of Feiislita, vol. ii„ page 23a
 
 51+ THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 
 
 ^feanwhile, within the fort, considerable confusion prevailed at 
 the progress which the Mahomedans were making in their ap- 
 proaches, and at the unsuccessful issue of the sallies of the be- 
 sieged. The governor's wife was daily on the ramparts encouiaging 
 the men. An attempt by the foe to scale the walls had been 
 repelled with determined resolution by the garrison, during which 
 the heroic matron had, with her own hands, hurled several Moslems 
 from the battlements as they reached the summit. Anxious to 
 reap that glory considered the exclusive inheritance of the other 
 sex, she determined upon an act as desperate as it was uncommon. 
 
 " Jugmul," said she, " I will visit the enemy's camp, and try if 
 a woman's arm cannot reach his heart." 
 
 "Go," said her husband, " if you think that you have a reason- 
 able chance of ridding us of the foe. But what is your plan ?" 
 
 " Merely to be conducted to the Mahomedan's tent; then trust 
 to this arm and a woman's resolution for the issue." 
 
 The resolute Rajpootni arrayed herself in her most becoming 
 attire, and about dusk sought the hostile camp. She was still a 
 handsome woman. Being stopped by the guard, she represented 
 herself to be a minstrel, desirous of exhibiting the superiority of her 
 art before the Mogul Emperor. She was alone, and there did not 
 appear much risk in admitting a woman unaccompanied within 
 the Mahomedan lines. It was announced to Akbar that a Hindoo 
 musician was anxious to play before him. The Monarch who, 
 after the harassing fatigues of the day, was fond of seeking relaxa- 
 tion from the anxieties which his present undertaking naturally 
 accumulated upon him, commanded her to be admitted. As she 
 entered the royal presence, Akbar was extremely struck with her 
 natural dignity of deportment, and the commanding expression of 
 her countenance. He instantly saw that she was not a common 
 minstrel, and, at once suspecting treachery, gave orders that no 
 one, on whatever pretence, either man or woman, should be ad- 
 mited into the camp. 
 
 " Well, gentle dame," said the Sovereign, " what are your 
 wishes ?" 
 
 •' I have heard that the Mogul Monarch is a munificent bene-
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 315 
 
 factor to those who have the good fortune to succeed in adminis- 
 tering to his pleasures. I would attempt to do as much, being 
 held to have great skill upon my native vina." 
 
 '' A graceful instrument," said the Emperor. " Approach and try 
 your skill, which, if it be at all equal to your beauty, cannot fail to 
 delight." 
 
 She approached him; and Akbar having placed her on his 
 right hand, bade her play ; at the same time watching her with so 
 keen a survey, that the Rajpootni began to fear she was detected. 
 With an unruffled brow, however, she commenced tuning her vina, 
 which is the Hindoo lute, and played an air with considerable 
 skill. The sovereign was gratified. She played several airs with 
 great taste and feeling. The enthusiasm of the performer was at 
 length communicated to the Emperoi ; and in the excess of his 
 gratification, he was thrown off his guard. Seizing a favourable 
 moment, when his eyes were withdrawn from her, she drew a very 
 small taper dagger ; but before she could plunge it into the body 
 of her intended victim, he had seized her wrist, and forced the 
 instrument from her grasp. 
 
 " A very happy close to thy minstrelsy," said Akbar, with a 
 severe smile. 
 
 '■'■ I have failed," said the heroic woman, undauntedly, " and am 
 prepared for the issue. Give your orders, king, I am prepared to 
 die. I did not make this attempt without weighing the penalty. 
 I care not for the mode : you will see that I can defy your 
 tortures ; and, to give you some idea of the spirit of that foe which 
 you seek to overcome, take the solemn assurance of a doomed 
 woman, that there is not a living soul behind yonder battlements 
 that would not brave death in any sliape to be avenged upon the 
 despisers of their gods." 
 
 Akbar made no reply, but, ordering her to be placed under a 
 strong guard in a vacant tent, on the following morning sent her 
 with an escort to the gate of Chittore, telling her, as she quilted 
 bis camp, that the Emperor of the Moguls warred not witli women. 
 The haughty Rajpootni was deeply moved at her failure and the 
 Mogul's magnanimity. It, however, did not alter her determina'
 
 3i6 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 
 
 tion to accomplish his death, though at the expense of her own 
 life. She felt no longer surprised that his troops were invincible, 
 and himself so renowned ; and her hopes of forcing him to raise 
 the siege began, from this moment, to decline. She discovered 
 in Akbar the virtues of bravery, and a contempt of death to a 
 degree that would have done honour to a Rajpoot; and besides 
 those virtues, which he possessed common to all brave men, she 
 could not but perceive that he was endowed with some peculiarly 
 his own. She expressed her fears to Jugmul, that under such a 
 leader the enemy must eventually prevail. " But we can die," 
 she said, with energy, "fighting on our ramparts; and their 
 success, whenever it comes, will be recorded in characters of 
 blood." 
 
 " Wife !" said the governor, " we have no reason to despair yet. 
 The garrison is still strong and resolute ; we have provisions for 
 at least five months' consumption, and long before that period it 
 must be decided whether the Moslems or Hindoos are to be 
 masters of Chittore." 
 
 " He, Jugmul, who could spare the life of one who attempted 
 his, and give her safe conduct to her friends, is no ordinary man. 
 We have more to dread from Akbar's magnanimity, than either 
 from the number or bravery of his followers, though he is acknow- 
 ledged to command the best disciplined armies in the East. What 
 immortal glory would radiate from my brow if this arm had not 
 failed to rid the world of so distinguished a foe." 
 
 "You are eloquent in his praises." 
 
 " Because he deserves all the good I can say of him, and all the 
 hatred I can feel towards him. Jugmul, I could barter my own 
 life, and that of all those of whose lives mine has been the source, 
 to send that man to the Assuras." 
 
 The next morning the governor and his ^vife were on the ram- 
 parts inspecting the defences ; for, from the enemy's movements, 
 they hourly expected an assault, against which every provision was 
 made which prudent foresight could suggest. Whilst Jugmul was 
 surveying the progress of new works that he had ordered to be 
 raised behind sora^ low bastions where he considered the fortifica-
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 3x7 
 
 tions weak, a sudden explosion was heard from before the walls, 
 which dismayed the besiegers. The shock was so great that all 
 standing upon the ramparts were thrown upon their faces. A 
 considerable part of the lowest wall had fallen, and opened a 
 practicable breach. A second explosion followed, still more ter- 
 rible, and added to the ruin, opening another breach not less 
 formidable. It was soon evident that the enemy had sprung two 
 mines, and the besieged expected that the destruction of their 
 ramparts was about to be followed by a general assault. They 
 crowded the breach, to defend their city with a wall of human 
 bodies. The enemy, however, did not storm the town, as was 
 expected. The cause of this, although for a moment matter of 
 anxious conjecture, was soon ascertained. Two thousand ot 
 Akbar's choicest troops, prepared to storm, had advanced when 
 the first mine exploded, under the supposition that both mines had 
 been sprung at the same moment. The party immediately divided 
 into two equal bodies, in order to enter both breaches at once. 
 One of the mines only had ignited, and, when the party reached 
 the other, they were scattered as with the shock of an earthquake. 
 The ground opened beneath their feet ; numbers were blown into 
 the air ; others had their limbs torn from the quivering trunks, and 
 a scene of consternation prevailed, altogether indescribable. 
 Fifteen Mogul officers and above four hundred men were killed. 
 
 This unforeseen disaster damped the energies of the storming 
 parties. They paused until the confusion subsided, thus giving 
 their enemies time to prepare for defence. They then advanced 
 boldly — but not with elated hearts — to the breaches. They were 
 received with unshrinking valour by the besieged. Every attempt 
 to make good an entrance was withstood by men determined to 
 die in defence of their walls. The Mahomedans were repulsed 
 They returned to the camp greatly dispirited, not covered with 
 shame indeed, but without the glory of success. Akbar, conscious 
 that the cause of fliilure was to be sought in the accident which 
 had occurred previously to the assault being made, visited the men 
 in person, encouraging them under their disheartening defeat, 
 raised their sinking spirits, and animated them for fresh encounters.
 
 3i8 THE Dlij-ENCE OF CHlTTORB. 
 
 The spiiits of the besieged were so elated by their success and 
 the destruction of the enemy, that thej began with extraordinary 
 energy to repair the breaches, which by the next morning they had 
 filled up with a thick wall of mud. This was a secure defence, 
 for the moisture of the material rendered the surface so slippery, 
 that the difficulty of scaling such an impediment was so great as to 
 render the attempt impracticable. This did not dismay the 
 besiegers, who prepared to renew their attempts upon the town 
 with increased activity. Akbar's was not a mind to be overcome 
 by difficulties ; it became more elevated in proportion as impedi- 
 ments multiplied. He gave his orders with that calm earnestness 
 of resolution which showed he would be satisfied with nothing 
 short of complete success. His men evinced the greatest alacrity 
 in their obedience to the orders of their officers, and soon recovered 
 from the effects of their late mischance. The Hindoos were no 
 less assiduous in providing against all possible contingencies \ and, 
 in the course of a few days, the works of Chittore were nearly as 
 secure as before the opening of the breaches by the mines. 
 
 A few nights after the accident from the explosion of the mine, 
 the Emperor, who had given orders that other works should be 
 constructed, was in the batteries directing the workmen. While 
 there, he observed the governor of Chittore superintending, by 
 torchlight, the repairs of the walls, which were now nearly 
 completed. Seizing a matchlock from one of the attendants, he 
 directed it with so true an aim as to lodge a ball in Jugmul's 
 forehead. It was easy to perceive that the greatest confusion 
 prevailed upon the ramparts of the besieged city. Persons were 
 seen hurrying to and fro, and the walls were soon crowded with 
 troops and citizens. Akbar, from this moment, saw that the game 
 was in his own hands. The death of their governor he knew 
 would render the garrison despairing and reckless ; he con- 
 sequently prepared for some of those dreadful eruptions so com- 
 mon among Rajpoot soldiers when driven to extremity. 
 
 Day had scarcely dawned, when his camp was attacked with a 
 fury which nothing but the better discipline of his soldiers, and 
 great numerical superiority, could have repelled. The Rajpoots,
 
 THE DEFENCE Of cniTTORE. 3^9 
 
 headed by tiiclr late governor's v»'idow, fought with a desperation 
 which, for the moment, bore down all opposition. The widow 
 urged her horse with heedless fury towards Akbar's tent. An 
 Omrah placing himself before her to oppose her further progress, 
 she buried a short spear in his body, and, continuing her career, 
 reached the royal pavilion. Here she was opposed by the guards, 
 the foremost of whom struck her in the face with his sword ; but 
 having speared him, she flung herself from the back of her charger, 
 and, rushing into the tent, sprang towards the couch,— it was 
 empty. With some difficulty she was secured, but not until she 
 had wounded several of the guard, and received a second severe 
 wound in the neck, from which the blood flowed so copiously that 
 she was obliged to relinquish the contest, becoming faint and 
 unable to continue her exertions. By this time her followers had 
 been nearly all cut off, and few returned to the city to bear the 
 lamentable tale of discomfiture. 
 
 Akbar entered his tent, and saw the noble woman who had 
 made such a brave effort to avenge her husband's death fainting 
 upon the ground, reeking with her own blood and that of her foes. 
 He instantly ordered her wound to be dressed, and that she should 
 be carefully attended during the night. He was charmed with her 
 heroism, he reverenced her distress, and determined to offer very 
 advantageous terms on the morrow if the garrison would capitu- 
 late. The obstinacy of the besieged had won his admiration, and 
 he was heard to say to a confidential officer that with such troops 
 he would undertake to conquer the world. 
 
 Next morning the captive widow rose from her couch, and de- 
 manded to see the Emperor. She was immediately brought before 
 him, 
 
 " Sovereign of the Moguls," she said, undauntedly, " I have 
 thrice sought your life. I have freely braved your vengeance. 1 
 am prepared for the infliction wliich I have provoked, anil my 
 failure deserves. What death am I to die ?" 
 
 " Allah forbid, lady, that I should punish any one for trying to 
 take away the life of a foe in honourable warfare. It is but 
 natural that you should seek to accomplish the death of him who
 
 326 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORR. 
 
 has destroyed your husband, not from feeHngs of enmity, for 1 
 admired his bravery and esteemed his patriotism, but as a melan- 
 choly means to a glorious end. His death is one of those sad 
 contingencies inseparable from a state of active hostility. I have 
 now to propose to you terms for the capitulation of Chittore." 
 
 " If I have influence to decide upon a proposal that invoh es 
 the dishonour of my countrymen, I will bid them resist till there 
 shall no longer remain among them an arm to strike." 
 
 " But, lady, the terms I intend to offer will be alike honourable 
 to you and the inhabitants of yonder fortress." 
 
 " No terms from the sovereign of the Moguls can be honourable 
 to those whom he has so irreparably ^vronged. I will listen to no 
 accommodation short of disbanding your anny, and leaving the 
 city of Chittore to enjoy that peace which you have wantonly in- 
 ten-upted. I am now in your power. I seek not to stay your 
 vengeance. Wreak it upon me, with the flush and glow of a 
 tyrant's satisfaction. I will brave you with my last gasp of life. I 
 will defy you with my expiring breath ; but never could I listen to 
 terms from the man who has profaned the sacred sanctuary of the 
 Hindoos, and cast down upon the threshold of their temples the 
 representatives of their gods." 
 
 " Lady, I would show the difference between the magnanimity 
 of the Mahomedan and the Hindoo. You have thrice sought my 
 life with an asperity of passion, sanctioned only by what you con- 
 sider the sacred obligations of revenge. You have refused to 
 listen to terms of honourable accommodation. You have ex- 
 pressed towards me the deadliest animosity. You are in my 
 power, axid I could in a moment prevent all further exercise of 
 your hatred ; but I forbear. You are free. I have commanded 
 an escort to be ready once more to bear you to the gates of your 
 native city." 
 
 The Rajpootni turned her head ; a tear for an instant glazed 
 her eye, but the warm glow of pride dried it in its crystal forma- 
 tion, and it ceased to flow. She uttered not a word, but silently 
 quitted the tent, making a haughty salaam to the Emperor as she 
 passed, mounted a litter which had been prepared to convey her,
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORS. 331 
 
 and in a short time was once m ore within the gates of Chittore. 
 Her heart now swelled with thoughts of desperation and of death. 
 She acknowledged the magnanimous forbearance of her enemy, 
 and accepted life only to perform a last and awful duty among her 
 family and her countrymen. Her soul dilated with the solemn 
 purpose which she was about to fulfil — the crisis had arrived. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE inhabitants of Chittore now gave themselves up to de- 
 spair. Their governor was dead, a great number of the 
 garrison had been slain in the late sally, and no hope of rescue 
 appeared. The effect was dreadful. The fear of falling into the 
 enemy's hands drove many to deeds of desperation only heard of 
 among those whose minds have been obfuscated by the gloom of 
 that superstition of which idolatry is the monstrous parent. Whole 
 families destroyed themselves, dying in each other's arms, and with 
 their expiring breaths cursing those who had induced them to em- 
 brace such a dreadful alternative. There was scarcely a house 
 that was not filled with the dying and the dead. The groans of 
 death within mingled with the clamours of war without, and the 
 great conqueror of nature was about to reap a full harvest of 
 triumph. 
 
 Day after day passed, and these scenes were repeated. Corpses 
 lay in the streets, and " there was none to bury them ■" so that the 
 steams of pestilence began to rise and load the air with the ele- 
 ments of destruction. For two or three days the heroic widow of 
 Jugmul, who now directed the defence of Chittore, was confmed to 
 her couch ; but the moment she was able to rise, she quitted her 
 house and repaired to the ramparts. The despair of the citizens 
 had reached her ears ; she heard it in moody silence, but calmly 
 gave her orders, and, summ.oning her chief officers, among whom 
 v/as Peirup Singh, she said — 
 
 " The enemy are invincible, and we have nothing now but to 
 INDIA, K
 
 S2« THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE, 
 
 prepare for our final change. I need not tell you how the Rajpoot 
 comports himself at this hour of extremity." 
 
 " Nay, why this despair ?" asked Peirup Singh. " We are not 
 yet vanquished. The garrison is still numerous, our soldiers are 
 brave, and our enemies enfeebled by the late conflict." 
 
 "They are mighty in their strength ; we are only mighty in our 
 weakness — they to vanquish, but we to perish. I need not bid 
 you prepare, because I know none of our blood can be backward 
 to meet death as becomes the brave." 
 
 Peirup Singh, though a courageous man, was by no means 
 piepared for such an issue as the Rajpootni's widow seemed to 
 contemplate. He loved her daughter, and, with the prospect of 
 enjoyment before him, did not precisely see the necessity of that 
 desperate alternative to which the late governor's relict alluded. 
 Even should they be obliged to capitulate, the magnanimity of 
 Akbar was too well known to warrant the supposition that he 
 would treat the vanquished with tyranny ; the Rajpoot therefore 
 thought that a capitulation in time to so generous an enemy would 
 be their safest policy. 
 
 When he expressed these sentiments to her, who directed the 
 movements of the besieged, she said, with an indignant glance at 
 the proposer of so degrading an act of pusillanimity — 
 
 " What ! does the suitor of my daughter make a proposal so 
 mworthy of his race ? It is enough ; henceforward you are a 
 tranger to my home." 
 
 She turned from him, and would not hear his reply. Having 
 given her orders in case an assault should be made by the foe, she 
 visited the houses of those whom despair had urged to fatal ex- 
 tremities. The sad sight only nerved her heart to fiercer resolu- 
 tion. She looked upon the dead without a sigh. She conversed 
 with the dying as if they were about to be hushed in a joyous 
 sleep, and there was neither regret nor anguish in their expiring 
 groans. The dead bodies scattered about the streets, and ex 
 haling the elements of death, moved her not to an emotion. Her 
 soul was passion-cased — it was absorbed by one intense feeling. 
 Upon entering her home she was met by her elder daughter.
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 393 
 
 " Kherla," she said calmly, " death has been doing much un 
 sightly work among us. The conquerors will not find their gar- 
 land of victory a beautiful wreath. The foul steams of decaying 
 mortality will hang upon and blight it. My child, we must go to 
 another change. Are you prepared to quit a base world for a 
 brighter ? Agni* must be our guide to the mutation which awaits 
 us when these poor bodies shall have become ashes." 
 
 " My mother, I am ready to perform the conditions of my 
 destiny. I desire not to exist longer than I can live in the free 
 dom to which I v/as born ; and, rather than become the captive 
 of the Moslem, I am willing to encounter the flames which shall 
 give me a release from those bonds the foe are preparing to 
 cast upon us." 
 
 The mother embraced her child. The younger girl had over- 
 heard this conversation, and her heart palpitated. She had hitherto 
 found life an acceptable and sweet possession. She, therefore, 
 felt no desire to embrace the faggot, and have her spirit dis- 
 missed from her body on wings of flame. She was full of youth 
 and health, highly susceptible of enjoyment, with a fine flow of 
 animal spirits ; and to her, therefore, death was at once a terror 
 and an evil. She was summoned into the presence of her parent, 
 who said with a calm but stern voice, 
 
 *' Girl, you must prepare for your last hour. The summons of 
 Yama has reached us, and we have no choice. When he calls, 
 obedience is our duty, and the performance of our duty cannot 
 but be a blessing. We must perish, my child." 
 
 The poor girl shuddered but did not utter a word, knowing how 
 ill the stern temper of her only surviving parent could brook re- 
 sistance. She bent acquiescently, but the tear started into her 
 eye as she turned from the bold mother to conceal her emotions. 
 Having dismissed her children, the heroic matron began to pre- 
 pare her mind for the approaching sacrifice. 
 
 'J'he rite of the Johur was now determined on. The whole 
 
 • The God of Fire. 
 Y 2
 
 334 THE DEFENCE OF CHIT I ORE. 
 
 garrison, amounting to five thousand, three having already 
 perished, were assembled. The governor's widow told them that 
 the last effort was to be made. Nothing remained between sub- 
 jugation and death. They heard her without a murmur, but with 
 that profound silence which, in a multitude, betokens an inviolable 
 unity of purpose, and began to assume the saffron robe. They 
 were soon prepared to sally from the gate. Peirup Singh was 
 among them. He looked defiance but spoke not. Their swords 
 gleamed in the sun. The stern Rajpootni gazed with a glancing 
 eye of pride, as she beheld the brave band going forth to the 
 sacrifice, knowing that their swords would be steeped in the blood 
 of their foes. She waved her hand when all were ready ; the 
 gates were thrown open and they marched forth to the fatal con- 
 flict. Their shouts were deafening as they pushed forward like a 
 living deluge. The Moguls knew what they had to expect from 
 the desperate valour of these devoted soldiers. The onset was 
 terrific. Death followed everywhere in the track of those un- 
 shrinking assaulters. There was no quarter accepted. The mo- 
 ment a Rajpoot was taken prisoner he fell upon his own sword. 
 The carnage among the Mahomedans was dreadful. They fell by 
 hundreds before the swords of those infuriated men who had de- 
 voted themselves to destruction. The Hindoos fought against an 
 enemy more than five times their number with a determination 
 that spread consternation through the Mahomedan ranks. Even 
 Akbar was amazed. He appeared in person in the thickest of 
 that awful struggle, and was twice wounded by a Rajpoot sabre ; 
 but his armour protected his life, and the half naked bodies of his 
 foes exposed them to the invincible force of his sword. 
 
 For several hours the sanguinary strife continued, until almost 
 every Rajpoot was slain. Upwards of two thousand Mahomedans 
 were left dead upon the field, and full twice that number wounded. 
 The brave Hindoos had raised a memorable trophy round their 
 bodies never to be forgotten. Akbar visited the field of carnage. 
 He was astonished at the impetuous and unflinching valour dis- 
 played by the foe. He dropped a tear as his eye glanced over 
 ^he field covered with slam. He had obtained a dearly-
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHIT TORE. 3aS 
 
 Vought victory. It was evident that had the enemy met him upon 
 equal terms, with them would have remained the honours of 
 triumph. The sacrifice had indeed been great, but the victory 
 was complete. As soon as the wasted energies of his troops 
 should be recruited he determined to make an assault upon the 
 town if the terms which he was disposed to offer were rejected. 
 
 Among the iovf Rajpoots who had survived the carnage of that 
 sanguinary day was Peirup Singh. He sought the lovely Kherla 
 Nuny, hoping that she would fly with him from peril to happiness, 
 but it was evident he knew her not, 
 
 " Kherla," said he, " all is lost. We have done everything 
 that brave men could do, and Chittore is at the foe's mercy. Let 
 us fly, my bride, while the means of escape remain to us. I can 
 take you to a place of safety." 
 
 " Who are you ?" calmly asked the noble girl. 
 
 " Is it possible you can ask such a question of Peirup Singh, 
 your accepted bridegroom, who is prepared to convey you from 
 this scene of carnage to a home where happiness awaits you ?" 
 
 " Peirup Singh, the bridegroom of Kherla Nuny, would not dis- 
 honour his kindred. The daughter of Jugmul can never unite 
 herself with one who, after having assumed the saffron robe, has 
 run from the foe and hid his recreant head behind stone walls. 
 Dost thou fear to die, Peirup Singh ?" 
 
 " No ; but I deem life a gift not to be rashly thrown away when 
 it may be appreciated and enjoyed. If good can be purchased by 
 the sacrifice it is our duty to yield it up, otherwise such a sacrifice 
 becomes a foolish and culpable suicide." 
 
 " Is not the avoidance of disgrace a good ? Is escape from 
 death, with the brand of infamy upon a man's brow, no evil ? He 
 who would hesitate between life and disgrace, has a petty soul ; 
 but he that would accept the one with the polluted inheritance of 
 the other is the .worst of recreants. We never can be united, 
 Peirup Singh." 
 
 The rejected Rajpoot was deeply mortified — she would not 
 listen to his expostulations ; but quitting his presence, turned 
 upon him a look cf withering scorn. He was confounded. Be-
 
 ^26 rHE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE 
 
 tween shame and passion he stood aghast. He remauied tor some 
 
 lime irresolute, when on a sudden the apartment was filled with 
 
 a thick curling smoke. He rushed into a court towards a passage 
 
 j^'hence the stifling vapour proceeded. The awful truth at once 
 
 burst upon his sight. The funereal fire had been kindled in a large 
 
 mbterranean chamber, in which all the members of the family, 
 
 except the late governor's widow and her younger daughter, had 
 
 assembled, to the number of a hundred and forty- seven. Peirup 
 
 Singh looked into the opening, and beheld the beautiful Kherla 
 
 H'/aving a torch with which she had just ignited the combustibles 
 
 strewed over the apartment. In a few moments the smoke shut 
 
 out all from his sight, and the crackling flames prevented his ear 
 
 from catching the groans of the dying. The forked fires rose to 
 
 the skies with a horrid hissing, as if of demons triumphing in 
 
 the frightful consummation of death. Both the sight and the sound 
 
 were horrible. There was no rescuing the infatuated girl from 
 
 that destruction upon which she had voluntarily rushed. She had 
 
 already become the virgin bride of death. Young and numerous 
 
 were the bridesmaids of that fiery marriage. Peirup Singh quitted 
 
 the scene of horror with a deeply smitten heart 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AKBAR sent a Vakeel, offering to the besieged most liberal 
 terms, which were indignantly rejected. 
 
 "Tell your king," was the reply, "that we accept no terms from 
 him who seeks to dispossess us of our homes. We deem that 
 capitulation is a word only admitted into the vocabulary of 
 cowards." 
 
 The Vakeel returned, and Akbar determined to storm the town. 
 On that very day two mines were sprung, which made a breach in 
 the walls in two several places as before. The heroine who now 
 commanded Chittore was undismayed at what she saw. The 
 A'hole garrison had been cut off except about two hundred mea
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTOKE. 327 
 
 Multitudes of citizens had destroyed themselves and their familiei 
 to escape falHng into the conqueror's hands. She, however, sum- 
 moned as many of the inhabitants as were in a condition to make 
 a final effort, determined to offer resistance to the enemy so long 
 as there remained a man within the fortress able and willing to fight. 
 
 The moment the breaches were formed the heroic widow ordered 
 new works to be raised, and thus a slight defence was opposed ta 
 the foe in an incredibly short space of time. High wooden frames, 
 filled with mud, had been previously prepared, and were instantly 
 .placed in the openings of the rampart. Upon the batdements 
 stood a small but determined band, with large vessels containing a 
 boiling Hquid of the consistence of pitch, ready to pour it upon 
 the besiegers' heads as they attempted to scale the shattered walls. 
 A number of females armed with missiles likewise crowded the 
 ramparts, determined to take their part in the close of this despe- 
 rate game. All the principal women within the fortress had already 
 suffered themselves to be sacrificed by their husbands, sons, or 
 brothers ; those that remained were only a few who had escaped 
 the general massacre to die in the breaches of their native city. 
 
 While the inhabitants were working at the breaches Peirup 
 Singh came before the mother of his beloved. She moved from 
 him with a glance of scorn. 
 
 " Nay," said he, " turn not from a despairing man. I come 
 here to redeem that honour which you consider I have forfeited. 
 The master-passion within me is now quelled, and I yield to the 
 sadder circumstances of my destiny." 
 
 " The man," said the Rajpootni, " who prefers life to glory 
 deserves not to die the warrior's death. There are enough on 
 these battlements to leave a record for the dark page of history of 
 tlie desperate defence of Chittore. You may go and propitiate 
 the conqueror, and live with the galling iron of bondage entering 
 into your recreant soul. We seek no aid from Peirup Singh." 
 
 The Rajpoot bit his lip, but stirred not. The hurried glance of 
 his eye, which darted like a sunbeam towards the advancing hosts, 
 expressed the fierce resolve which swelled his heart at this moment 
 of advancing peril. It was the glance of a bayed tiger. Jle drew
 
 3^8 TllR DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 
 
 bis sword and walked with a deliberate but firm step to the least 
 protected part of the breach. 
 
 The enemy advanced at a quick trot, and poured fonvard like a 
 Sudden irruption of the sea. When the foremost reached the 
 trench the shock was terrific. They were forced back by the 
 besieged with a resolution which nothing could withstand. The 
 scalding preparation was poured upon their heads. This new 
 mode of resistance confounded them. They drew back from the 
 rampart, and renewed their attack only to meet with a similar 
 reception. Time after time they were repulsed, but the besiegers 
 being greatly exposed in the breaches, suffered extremely from the 
 «t.'nemy's matchlocks. Peirup Singh fought with the fury of a gored 
 iion. He was twice severely wounded, but did not retire from the 
 station he had chosen. Evening put an end to the struggle, and 
 the Mahomedans were obliged to retreat. 
 
 Tlieir temporary success elated the besieged, still it was evident 
 that they could not maintain a successful opposition for another 
 day. Their numbers had been much diminished by the enemy's 
 well-directed fire, and the temporary defences were considerably 
 weakened by continual assaults. Nevertheless, it was determined 
 that resistance should be offered so long as there was a man to 
 stand in the trench. 
 
 Next morning the attack was renewed. Many of the Mahome- 
 dans were hurled headlong from the walls in attempting to scale 
 <ihem, but were succeeded by fresh troops equally resolute ; and 
 at length, in spite of the exertions of the despairing Hindoos, they 
 obtained a footing, and the trench was carried. Peirup Singli, 
 having killed several of the foe, was shot through the brain with a 
 matchlock, and fell dead into the ditch. The heroic Rajpootni 
 widow, who, though dangerously wounded, still stood upon the 
 battlements encouraging the brave defenders of Chittore, rushed 
 forward to meet death in the trench, but the enemy generously 
 dropped their swords as she advanced, and attempted to take her 
 alive. Perceiving the intention, she instantly retreated towards 
 the town, followed by a party of Akbar's soldiers. Though still 
 reeking with her blood, she gained her home before them, and,
 
 THE DEPENCE OB CmXTORE. 329 
 
 having entered, securely fastened the door. Summoning her only 
 remaining daughter, she cried — 
 
 " My child, the moment is come when we must consummate 
 our triumph. We shall not fall alive into the hands of the foe." 
 
 She seized a torch which had been kept ready lighted to meet 
 such a melancholy contingency. The daughter had not the 
 mother's heroism — she shrieked as she advanced towards the pile, 
 and would have retreated, but her resolute parent, with the last 
 collected effort of strength, dragged her onward. " There is no 
 alternative but death, my child," she said, calmly. She reached 
 tlie pyre, took the trembling girl in her arms, ascended the fatal 
 platform, applied the torch, and in a few moments both mother 
 and daughter were wrapped in the embrace of death. The soldiers 
 entered, having burst open the door, and found their prey had 
 escaped them. They gazed upon the flaming pile, upon which oil 
 had been poured to excite it to quicker combustion. They were 
 deprived of their victim. The flames were singing a fearful requiem 
 over her ashes. It was a horrible sight to witness the combined 
 consummation of superstition and despair. 
 
 The fortress was soon filled with the victorious Mahomedans. 
 Those Hindoos who had not adopted the desperate resource of 
 self-immolation, and had survived the carnage, thronged to the 
 temples, the entrances of which they barricaded, determined to 
 die in their sanctuaries rather than yield to the upholders of a 
 different faith. Akbar himself entered the town, and ordered the 
 temples to be forced. They who had sought sanctuary thither 
 perished without a murmur. They attempted no resistance, but 
 SLifiered themselves to be slaughtered like animals for the sacrifice. 
 Several thousands thus became martyrs to their prejudices, and 
 iied with a smile of defiance upon their lips, without raising a 
 hand in self-defence. The Emperor, however, did not evince that 
 bigoted zeal which has so much disgraced the religion of every 
 country in which it has been actively displayed, but spared the 
 venerable monuments of an ancient, though besotted, supersti- 
 tion. His taste admired the structures, whilst his soul contemned 
 the i)rofane rites which they had been reared to consecrate, and
 
 S30 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 
 
 though he destroyed the monstrous idols of the heathens, he 
 allowed their temples to stand, many of them noble monuments 
 of Hindoo talent and architectural skill. 
 
 When the fortress was fully in possession of Akbar he gazed 
 with astonishment upon the prodigal sacrifice of human life 
 which had occurred in almost every house. The Johur had taken 
 place, and many thousand females of all ages signalised the de- 
 testation of their foes by submitting to a voluntary death. Multi- 
 tudes of either sex surrendered their lives, some by the sword, 
 others on the flaming pile. Blood flowed in torrents. The steams 
 of death rose to the fair heavens, which looked down calmly and 
 beautifully, but through which glanced an omnipotent eye upon 
 the violence, the follies, and the delinquencies of men. 
 
 So great had been the destruction that little treasure was found 
 by the conquerors within the fortress. They who perished by a 
 voluntary decease had taken care previously to consume or destroy 
 everything of value which they possessed. Even the treasures of 
 the temples had been disposed of, so that the conquerors entered 
 a depopulated town, rendered a scene of utter desolation, a fit 
 abode only for the reptile and beast of prey. 
 
 That portion of the garrison which had last sallied from the 
 gates to die fighting for their country and its shrines perished in a 
 cause which they imagined would end in their transportation to 
 higher scenes of enjoyment in new states of being. They first 
 purified themselves with water, offered adoration to the Divinity, 
 made benefactions to the poor, placed a branch of the toolsi in 
 their casques, and the saligram round their necks, emblems of 
 death and the grave ; and having cased themselves in armour, 
 and put on the saffi-on robe, they bound the mor, a funeral 
 coronet, round their heads, embraced each other for the last time, 
 and rushed forth to perish in the fierce conflict of arms. 
 
 As the king walked through the now desolate streets he was 
 deeply affected. Disfigured bodies, black and putrid, and ex- 
 haling the horrible odours of decay, lay before him in all their 
 revolting deformity. The corpses of those who fell by their own 
 hands had been just put under the surface of the ground, and were
 
 THE DEFENCE OF CHITTORE. 33i 
 
 seen protruding through the earth from their superficial graves, 
 filhng the air with the seeds of pestilence. Women and children 
 were still among the dead and dying, at the last extremity, implor- 
 ing piteously for a cup of water to slake the raging thirst that was 
 consuming them, and adding intolerable torment to their expiring 
 agonies. 
 
 All the corpses were ordered to be collected together and con- 
 sumed upon one vast pile, and fires were kept burning for days to 
 purify the air and cleanse the polluted town. 
 
 Such were the frightful circumstances under which the Mogul 
 emperor became master of Chittore. It is, in truth, melancholy 
 to contemplate the horrors which frequently follow on the heels of 
 human ambition. It seems to look upon the sanguinary devasta- 
 tions of war as a sort of legalised licence to destruction, and they 
 therefore fail to excite our sympathies ; but if we consider what an 
 awful amount of human beings have been cut off by the sword, or 
 by those scourges so often the frightful handmaids of war, pesti- 
 lence and famine, we should be startled at the prodigious total. 
 Animals destroy each other singly, and in obedience to an irre- 
 sistible instinct to support their own lives, which, to them, is the 
 greatest boon of heaven, because they have no prospects beyond, 
 but the rational portion of God's creatures destroy each other by 
 large masses and in mighty sums merely to substantiate the sordid 
 calculations of interest, to appease their base passions, or to realize 
 the aims of a bloated ambition. 
 
 Akbar having done all in his power to alle^/iale the miseries of 
 the few surviving native inhabitants of Chittore, commanded tlie 
 walls to be repaired, appointed Asuf Chan Hirvy governor of the 
 fortress, leaving with him a numerous garrison, and returned with 
 the rest of his army to his capital.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 1603 A.D. — In the year of the Hegira 1014, Prince Selmi ascended theimperia. 
 throne of the Moguls immediately upon the death of his father Akbar, who 
 expired at Agi-a, amid the general lamentations of his subjects, who loved him 
 as their father, admired him as their leader, and feared him as their prince. 
 
 Heg. 1 01 5 (1604). — A conspiracy was formed in favour of Chusero, 
 Jehangire's eldest son. When it was discovered, the prince appeared in amis 
 and broke out into open rebellion. He marched to Delhi, ravaged the 
 country, and laid the suburbs under contribution. Many houses were burned, 
 many persons perished, and thousands were utterly ruined. Jehangire, hearing 
 of these outrages, immediately commanded his captain-general to put the army 
 in motion and pursue his rebellious son. Suspecting that officer's loyalty, 
 however, he recalled him just as the latter was about to quit the city gates, 
 and gave command of the imperial forces to Ferid Bochari, paymaster-general 
 of the army, who pursued the rebel to Lahore, where he was entirely routed. 
 As the person of Chusero was known to the troops generally, they did not 
 attempt his life, and he was permitted to escape. He was, however, soon 
 after taken prisoner, which put an end to the rebellion. In the same year a 
 peace was conclu;led with Persia. 
 
 Heg. 1018 (1609). — Shere Afkun, a Turkoman noble, slew the Suba of 
 Bengal, and was immediately killed by the latter's troops. 
 
 Heg. I019 (1610) . — ^Jehangire married the beautiful widow of Shere Afkun 
 N oor Mahil. 
 
 Heg. 1020 (161 1). — The Afgans, a fierce and untractable people, inhabiting 
 the mountains beyond the Indus, rebelled, and entering Cabul with a con- 
 siderable army, committed the most cruci excesses. The rebellion was 
 suppressed by Nadili Meidani, who pursued the Afgans to their native moun^ 
 tains, putting a great part of their ill-disciplined troops to the sword. The 
 close of this year was distinguished by two formidable insurrections, one in 
 Bengal, the other in Behar ; the former was put an end to by Sujait Chan, 
 who for this signal service was advanced by his imperial master to the title 01 
 Rustum Ziman, which signifies the Hercules of the age. The insurrection in 
 Behar was quashed in consequence of the rebel Cuttub, who assumed to be the 
 Prince Chusero, being killed by a brickbat. 
 
 Heg. 1022 (1613). — Prince Pnrvez was despatched with an army against
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 333 
 
 Amar Sinka, Rana or Prince of Odipoor, in the Deccan, who had attacked 
 and defeated the imperial troops. He was unsuccessful. Jehangire recalled 
 him and sent Mohabet Chan to replace him. The army, however, being 
 reduced by disease, and in a state of insubordination, Mohabet was not in a 
 condition to oppose the Rana. Prince Churrum, the emperor's third son, was 
 consequently sent with fresh troops to supersede Mohabet. He entered by 
 the mountains, engaged the enemy, and obliged him to sue for peace. 
 
 Heg. 1023 (1614). — Chan Azim and Man Singh, the two principal sup- 
 porters of Chusero's rebellion, died. They were both distinguished under tin 
 reign of Akbar, who advanced them to high offices in the state. 
 
 Heg. 1024(1615). — Sir Thomas Roe, the English ambassador to the court 
 of Agra, arrived at Boorampoor, where he was courteously received by Sultan 
 Puiwez, governor of that province. He was subsequently received by the 
 Emperor at Ajmere with the greatest affability and kindness. Disturbances in 
 Guzzarat and Cabul quelled. 
 
 Heg. 1025 (1616). — Sultan Churrum's name was changed to Shah Jehan, or 
 King of the World. The princes of the Deccan having rebelled, Shah Jehan 
 forced' them to sue for peace, for which eminent service he rose into high favour 
 with the Emperor. 
 
 Heg. 1027 (i6i8). — The Vizier Actemad-ul-DowIa, father-in-law of the 
 Emperor, died. Aurungzebe born. His mother was the Sultana Kudsia, 
 daughter of Asiph Jah. The name Aurungzebe signifies the Ornament of the 
 Throne. 
 
 Heg. 1029 (1620). — Shah Jehan marched a second time into the Deccan, 
 and reduced to subjection the princes, who had again rebelled. His eldest 
 brother, Chusero, was delivered into his hands. 
 
 Heg. 1030(1621). — Chusero was assassinated under the walls of Azere by 
 .rommandof Shah Jehan. 
 
 Heg. 1031 (1622). — Shah Jehan assumed the Imperial purple, attacked the 
 fort at Agra, but was repulsed by Asiph Jah, the new Vizier, and brotlier of 
 the Sultana Noor Jehan. 
 
 Heg. 1032 (1623).— Jehangire prepared to march against his rebellious son, 
 who endeavoured to justify his rebellion. An acfion ensued in which Shah 
 Jehan was entirely defeated. Sultan Purvez aruved in the camp, and under 
 the tuition of Mohabet received command of the imperial forces. He defeated 
 the royal insurgent upon the banks of the Nerbuddah. 
 
 Heg. 1033 (1624). — Shah Jehan entered Bengal, defeated the Suba, tool, 
 possession of that province and likewise of Behar. Prince Purvez advanced 
 with the imperial army and again defeated his rebellious brother, who fled 
 towards the Deccan, was joined by the Rajah of Ambere, and besieged Boor- 
 ampoor, but was repulsed. 
 
 Heg. 1034(1625). — Shah Jehan was pardoned by the Emperor. Candahar, 
 a fortified tov/n of Afghanistan, was taken l)y the Pcrsi-ins under the command
 
 334 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 of Shah Abbas their King, who appeared before it in person. The Usbeck 
 Tartars invaded the province of Ghizni, but after an obstinate resistance of nine 
 months were driven out of the empire. 
 
 Heg. 1035 (1626). — Mohabet was accused of treason, and summoned before 
 the Emperor. He obeyed, was grossly insulted, surprised Jehangire in his 
 tent, made him prisoner, and carried him off to his own camp. The Vizier 
 attempted a rescue, but was defeated with great slaughter. Mohabet resigned 
 his power, was obliged to fly, and declared himself in favour of Shah Jehan. 
 
 Heg. 1036 (1627). — ^Jehangire died. Dawir Buxsh, grandson of the late 
 Emperor, was raised to the throne, deposed, and murdered. Shah Jehan 
 arrived at Agra, and was proclaimed Emperor. 
 
 Heg. 1037 (1628). — Shah Jehan ascended the throne ot the Moguls.
 
 ^t Sxcjijf jDf ih WhxlHi. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE morning dawned upon two travellers in the midst of a 
 blighted wilderness. As the sun threw its level rays ovei 
 the horizon, they flooded a plain where no boundary could be 
 traced but the sky, and from which the dominion of vegetation 
 was almost wholly withdrawn ; there being nothing to relieve the 
 dull, uniform sterility of the scene but occasionally the trunks of 
 a few stunted trees, which appeared to stand there only as so 
 many legible records of the utter barrenness of the spot. These 
 sad wayfarers rose from beneath the scanty shades of one of those 
 skeletons of the wilderness to pursue a journey with a deplorable 
 prospect before them. They were far advanced upon a wide in- 
 hospitable desert, where no welcome serai was to be seen, and 
 where the passenger was seldom met. The refreshing well was 
 nowhere found in these dreary and unfruitful solitudes. 
 
 The travellers were a Tartar and his wife, who, in consequence 
 of a marriage not approved of by their respective families, had 
 fled from their country to seek that home in another which was 
 denied to them in their own. The man was handsome, of noble 
 carriage, possessing all the generous qualities of his race ; bold, 
 active, enterprising, with great capability of endurance, and withal 
 of a mild and placable spirit. The woman was young, beautiful, 
 but extremely delicate ; and to crown her husband's misery and 
 her own, she was about to become a mother. When they arose 
 on Miis -ad morning, they consumed the last of their provisions.
 
 .iy 
 
 6 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 They had only a small quantity of water in a leathern bottle, which 
 the Tartar made his fainting wife drink before they proceeded on 
 their way. What a deplorable condition ! To linger was certain 
 death, and to advance seemed only a dallying with hope — there 
 appeared no chances of relief They had several days' journey 
 to perform, without being provided with any sustenance for so long 
 and arduous a travel ; and the chances of meeting with passengers 
 tvere so remote as to render their perishing in the wilderness 
 almost a certainty. 
 
 The Tartar's wife was mounted upon a small lean horse, which 
 for the last several days had been so sparingly fed that it could 
 scarcely proceed. The wretched woman was unconscious of the 
 extent of her danger. She knew not that the whole of their pro- 
 visions were exhausted, save one small rice cake which the tender 
 husband had reserved for her use. He kept from her the awful 
 fact of their utter destitution, lest in her precarious condition it 
 should bring on premature labour where no assistance could be 
 obtained, and she v\^ould thus probably perish. In spite of the 
 misery of his situation, he still entertained the hope that he should 
 obtain relief; and trusting in the mercy of Him who guides the 
 wanderer as well in the wilderness as in the populous country, he 
 pursued his journey though with a heavy and foreboding heart. 
 As the sun rose, the heat became intolerable. There was no 
 shelter from its scorching rays. The anxious Tartar held an 
 umbrella over the head of his wife as he walked painfully along by 
 the side of her lean ambling pony ; but after a while his arm 
 became so cramped that it was with difficulty he could bear the 
 weight of the chatta. This, though not great, was the more 
 sensibly felt from the elevated position in which he was obliged to 
 keep his arms. He was, however, marvellously sustained by the 
 excitement of his anxiety for the dear object near him, who bore 
 with unrepining endurance privations which in her state were 
 especially deplorable. They travelled through a long and toil- 
 some day. The rice cake was consumed long before they halted 
 for the night. 
 
 Ihere being no shelter near, the husband fixed the handle of
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 337 
 
 his umbrella into the ground, and throwing over it a thin palam- 
 pore,* formed a kind of rude tent, under which his wife might repose 
 without immediate exposure to the unwholesome night air. She 
 was exhausted with fatigue ; her tongue was parched with thirst, 
 and the rapid increase of circulation too plainly told that fever was 
 fast coming on. To attempt to depict the husband's agony were 
 a vain endeavour. Without food — without water — his wife actually 
 in the pains of labour — with no hope of relief — in the midst of a 
 vast wilderness, which even the wild beasts shunned as a solitude 
 where only death and desolation reigned — he had no thought but 
 that both must lie down and die. The sufferings of his hapless 
 companion were appalling, yet she bore them without a murmur. 
 The severity of her pangs aggravated that thirst by which she had 
 been so long and so grievously oppressed. He had but one 
 alternative, and did not hesitate to adopt it in such a trying 
 (Emergency. His wife's agonies were every moment increasing. 
 He quitted the insecure canopy which he had erected for her 
 temporary accommodation, seized his dagger, ran to the pony, 
 and, in a paroxysm of tumultuous anxiety to save the life of the 
 object dearest to him upon earth, plunged it desperately into the 
 animal's throat. Having caught the blood in a wooden trencher, 
 ne bore it to the tent. 
 
 During his short absence, his wife had become a mother. The 
 cry of the poor babe raised within him, at this moment, emotions 
 of parental joy ; but these were in an instant stifled by the con- 
 sciousness of those awful perils by which he was surrounded. He 
 put the bowl to the lips of the suffering mother ; she took a small 
 quantity, and was in a slight degree refreshed. He now kindled 
 a fire upon the wide blasted desert, and broiled some flesh of the 
 animal which he had just slaughtered. It was tough and rank. 
 The juices, however, of this unpalatable repast subdued in a 
 degree the yearnings of hunger and the dreadful pangs of thirst. 
 
 On the morrow, when the sun again cast its vivid light upon the 
 vast level of the wilderness, this wretched pair arose to pursue 
 
 • A counterpane 
 INDIA. Z
 
 338 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLT). 
 
 their journey. The Tartar dreaded the increased difficulties which 
 he should have now to overcome. His companion was so weak 
 that she could scarcely stand ; yet she was obliged to carry her 
 infant, as he was loaded with their baggage and other necessaries, 
 that had hitherto been confined to the back of the pony. They 
 had scarcely commenced the prosecution of their melancholy 
 journey, when they were cheered with the prospect of relief Not 
 more than half a coss* distance before them, a beautiful lake 
 seemed to smile in the morning sun, and to invite the suffering 
 travellers to bathe their limbs in its limpid waters. The margin 
 was dotted with groups of trees, displaying a luxuriant foliage, 
 which was reflected in the still mirror below, and promised a 
 grateful shade to the travel-worn passenger. Oxen appeared to 
 be grazing on its margin, and every now and then, in the luxury 
 of the most exquisite enjoyment, to hide themselves under the 
 pellucid surface of its calm waters. Beyond, a gorgeous city 
 reared its battlements amid the solemn silence of the desert, over 
 which it seemed to cast the glow of its splendour, and to speak 
 with a mute but eloquent voice of cheering to the heart of the 
 forlorn wanderer, of which they alone can appreciate the magic 
 force who have braved the perils of the wilderness, and seen death 
 stand before them face to face amid its vast and inhospitable 
 solitudes. 
 
 The Tartar and his wife, overjoyed at the sight, made the best 
 of their way towards the lake and the city, in which the stir ot 
 busy life seemed to prevail ; for they saw, as they imagined, multi- 
 tudes of their fellow beings issue from its gates and spread over 
 the adjoining plain. The scene, to the excited imagination of the 
 travellers, was animated beyond description. The sight of human 
 habitations, and of human beings who could afford them succour ; 
 of water in which they might assuage the pangs of the most 
 painful of bodily privations ; of houses in which they might find 
 shelter after their perilous journey — all gave such a stimulus to 
 their exertions, that even the weak and suffering mother, with the 
 
 * The ca 3S is about two miles.
 
 THE LIGHT OP THE WORLD. 339 
 
 assistance of her husband's arm, was able to go onward with 
 tolerable firmness. 
 
 When they had proceeded for some time, the lake and the city 
 ftill appeared before them, but no nearer. It seemed to them as 
 if they had been moving their limbs without advancing a single 
 step. They still, however pressed forward under the delusive ex- 
 pectation of reaching the fair goal of their hopes ; but after a while 
 the lake began suddenly to disappear, the city was by degrees 
 shrouded in mist, which dispersed in the course of a few minutes, 
 and, to their consternation, diey saw nothing save the wide arid 
 expanse of the desert before them. The unhappy woman sank 
 upon the earth in a paroxysm of mental agony. The miserable 
 man was now perfectly overwhelmed with despair. He feared 
 that his wife was dying. She could no longer carry the infant ; 
 there was, consequently, but one alternative. The struggle of 
 nature was a severe one, but no choice remained between death 
 and parental inhumanity. The desire of life prevailed ; and it 
 was determined, after an agonizing conflict, that the infant must be 
 sacrificed. The mother's tears were dried up on her burning 
 cheeks, and the father's pangs were lost in the anxieties of the 
 husband. The appeals of nature were only stifled by louder 
 appeals in both their bosoms ; and, however fierce the repugnance, 
 it was to be resisted and overcome. The death of their babe was 
 the least of two evils ; they therefore submitted to the stern 
 severity of their condition. 
 
 It was agreed by the half-distracted parents, that the newborn 
 pledge of their affections should be abandoned. The mother 
 having kissed it fervently, consigned it to the arms of her husband, 
 who, having taken it to a spot where the stunted stock of a tree 
 protruded from the scorching sand, placed it under the scanty 
 shade of this bare emblem of sterility ; and, having covered it 
 jvith leaves, left it to the mercy of that God who can protect the 
 i)abe in the desert as well as the sovereign on his throne. On 
 rejoining his wife, the Tartar found her so weak that he feared she 
 would be unable to proceed. Though released from the burden 
 of her infant, her prostration of strength was so extreme, hom the 
 
 z 2
 
 340 THE LIGHT OF THE WoRLD. 
 
 united effects of mental and bodily suffering, that she could 
 scarcely rise from the earth. The pangs of thirst were again 
 becoming horrible ; still, after a severe struggle, she rose, and the 
 wretched pair pursued their journey in silence and in agony. 
 
 They had not proceeded far before the invincible yearnings of 
 nature prevailed over mere physical torment, and the bereaved 
 mother called in a voice of piteous anguish for her child. She 
 could no longer endure the pains of separation. The idea of 
 having voluntarily consented to become the instrament of its 
 death, was a horror which increased with every step, and she 
 sank exhausted upon the sand. The sun, now rising towards its 
 meridian, poured upon her the fiery effulgence of its beams The 
 husband's heart was subdued by her sufferings. Dashing a tear 
 from his cheek, he undertook to return and restore their infant to 
 the arms of its distracted mother. Fixing the handle of his um- 
 brella again in the ground and throwing the palampore over it, he 
 placed his wife under that frail covering, and immediately retraced 
 his steps. With a sad heart he reached the spot where he had 
 lately deposited the infant ; but what wa:; his consternation at 
 beholding the leaves removed, and a black snake coiled round it, 
 with its hideous mouth opposed to that of his child ! In a frenzy 
 of desperation he rushed forward ; but instantly arrested by the 
 instinct of paternal fear, he stood before the objects at once of his 
 Isnderest interest and of his terror, as if he had been suddenly 
 converted into stone. The previous motion, however, had evidently 
 alarmed the monster; for it gradually uncoiled itself from its 
 victim without committing the slightest injury, and retired into 
 the hollow trunk which marked this memorable spot. The father 
 snatched up his child, and bore it in ecstacy to its mother ; but 
 she was extended under the palampore in the last struggle of ex- 
 piring nature. Her feeble spirit had been overborne by her 
 lengthened sufferings of mind and body, and she now lay at the 
 point of death. She raised her eyes languidly, received the babe 
 with a faint smile upon her bosom, and tenderly kissed it. The 
 effort overcame her, and she fainted. After a short time she 
 rallied — but it was only to die. The husband hung over her with
 
 THE LIGHT OF Tllli WORLD. 34I 
 
 mute but intense tenderness, cursing in his heart with a bitterness 
 which that very tenderness aggravated, those relatives who had 
 caused the death of all he valued upon earth, and rendered him 
 the most desolate of men. 
 
 " Aiass," said the dying woman, " dig me a grave in the wilder- 
 ness ; don't leave this poor body to the beasts of prey. We shall 
 be restored to each other. There is a paradise beyond this world 
 where all the good meet and are blessed : we shall be among them. 
 I die happy in the possession of your love, and in the conscious- 
 ness of never having forfeited my claim to it." 
 
 The Tartar could not speak. He pressed the wife of his bosom 
 to that heart which she had so fondly engrossed, and scalding 
 tears of agony overflowed his cheeks. He threw his arms tenderly 
 round her, his heart throbbing audibly, and buried his bursting 
 temples in the hot sand beside her. She spoke not — she stirred 
 not ; he raised his head to kiss her fading lips — her eye was rayless 
 — those lips were slightly parted, but fixed ; a faint smile was on 
 her cheek, yet no breath came. She was dead 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AIASS raised himself from the earth, cast his eye with a look 
 of reproach towards heaven, and gave way to a burst of 
 sorrow ; then bringing the strong energies of his mind to resistance, 
 the ebullition shortly subsided, and he bowed to the stroke with the 
 fortitude of a man who looks upon endurance as his province, and 
 upon calamity as his lot. During the whole of this melancholy 
 day he did not quit the body. His wife's dying request 
 was in his ears and in his memory — " Dig me a grave in the 
 wilderness," and he resolved to comply with it. He passed 
 twelve lingering hours in a broiling sun, occasionally casting him- 
 self under the palampore beside the corpse, close to which his 
 infant slept unconscious of its loss. His thirst became at length 
 BO excessive that his throat and tongue swelled, and he began to
 
 343 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 apprehend suffocation. His face was blistered and sore, his eyes 
 niflamed, from the combined effects of weeping, and the glare of 
 an ardent sun upon the white sand of the desert. Towards 
 evening he was so overcome by his sufferings that he laid him 
 down to die. The infant cried for nutriment, but he had none to 
 give it. Taking the linen from his body, which was saturated 
 with perspiration, he put it to the babe's mouth : this kept it 
 alive. 
 
 The tongue of Aiass had by this time enlarged to such an 
 immense size that he could not move it. The inflammation was so 
 great that he was unable to close his lips. Expecting death every 
 moment, he pressed still closer to his bosom the innocent pledge 
 of conjugal affection, when he was unexpectedly relieved by the 
 cracking of his swollen tongue. A copious discharge of blood 
 followed, which passed into his stomach, and som.ewhat assuaged 
 the fever that burned wthin him. He was so much relieved by 
 this effort of nature, that he almost immediately sank into a short 
 but refreshing slumber. 
 
 The sun had gone do^vn in brightness ; and when he awoke, the 
 stars were looking upon him from their thrones of light, and the 
 whole heavens smiling above him in their beauty. The intense, 
 calm azure of the sky seemed an emblem of the repose that dwells 
 there. A gentle breeze had broken the oppressive stagnation of 
 the air, and fanned his hot, blistered features as with an angel's 
 wing. His energies revived. Though the thirst by which he was 
 still parched affected him greatly, still it was in some degree 
 mitigated by that balmy breath of heaven, which he felt now for 
 the first time since he had entered upon the desert. He commenced 
 fiis melancholy task of digging a grave to enclose the remains of 
 an object who had been dearer to him than his own life. He took 
 his crease — a short dagger with a wide double-edged blade, — and 
 began to remove the sand. It was an arduous and sorrowful labour. 
 After an earnest application of mind and body for two hours, he 
 succeeded in sinking a hole four feet deep. Into this he tenderly 
 lowered the body of his departed Avife, filled up the pit, and throwing 
 himself upon it, lay there until morning. There was a discharge
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 343 
 
 of blood from his tongue once or twice during the night, which more 
 than probably saved his life. 
 
 Towards dawn he fell into a deep and death-like sleep. He 
 was at length awaked by feeling himself severely shaken. Ui^on 
 looking up, he perceived himself to be surrounded by strangers. 
 They were travellers on their way to Lahore. They gave him food 
 and water : the infant was fed with goat's milk by means of a 
 sponge. His strength being now somewhat recruited, he joined 
 the travellers, and advanced with them by easy stages to their 
 destination. 
 
 Lahore was the field in which the Tartar's talents soon displayed 
 themselves, Aiass was no ordinary man. He attracted the notice 
 of the Emperor Akbar, who had a singular faculty in discriminating 
 merit, and from that moment rose to distinction. Akbar perceived 
 his value, and made it available to promote the interests of his 
 empire. The Tartar advanced by a regular but rapid progression 
 until he became high treasurer of the state. He was a chief 
 political organ of one of the wisest sovereigns which history cele- 
 brates, and held in great respect by the whole nation. The 
 Emperor reposed implicit confidence in him : it was well deserved, 
 and ended only with his life. 
 
 The daughter of Aiass, who had been so providentially pre- 
 served in the desert, as she grew up, excelled in personal at- 
 tractions all the loveliest women of the East, and was therefore 
 honoured with the designation of Mher-ul-Nissa : the Sun of 
 Women. The extraordinary event which had distinguished her 
 birth seemed but as the prognostic of future distinction. The 
 child of the desert grew to be the perfection of woman. The 
 fireatest care was taken to make her mistress of every accom- 
 plishment which could impart additional fascination to the natural 
 graces of her sex. In vivacity, wit, spirit, and all those elegant 
 attainments in which women especially excel, she was unrivalled 
 by few and surpassed by none. 
 
 Of her it might have been almost said, without any assumption 
 of the licence of poetry — 
 
 "The force of Nature could no further go."
 
 344 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 In masculine vigour of understanding she stood alone and unap- 
 proached. Her beauty was the theme of universal praise. Suitors 
 from all quarters sought her hand ; but it was not easily won. 
 Shere Afkun, a Turkoman noble of distinction, at length presented 
 himself; and to him she was betrothed. The Mogul historians 
 speak of Shere Afkun as the most eminent person of his age, and 
 much esteemed by the Emperor, who never failed to bestow his 
 ^avour upon brave men. The Turkoman was of lofty stature, and 
 no less remarkable for the beauty of his form and features than for 
 the rare qualities of his mind. He was universally acknowledged 
 to be every way worthy of the beautiful Mher-ul-Nissa, by whose 
 preference he felt equally flattered and delighted. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 SOON after she had been betrothed to Shere Afkun, the lovely 
 Tartar was seen by Prince Selim, afterwards well known as 
 the Emperor Jehangire, who became so desperately enamoured of 
 her, that imagining there could be no obstacle to her union with a 
 prince of the blood, he applied to his father Akbar, for his consent 
 to espouse the beautiful daughter of the high treasurer, Chaja Aiass. 
 
 The Emperor sternly refused his consent ; at the same time 
 upbraiding his son with seeking to degrade himself by a mean 
 alliance. Prince Selim was abashed; and, to his mortification, 
 the accomplished Tartar shortly after became the wife of Shere 
 Afkun. 
 
 Selim was from that moment the implacable foe of his successfu 
 rival. He could not bear to hear the hated name mentioned in 
 his presence, and, with cowardly vindictiveness, determined upon 
 his destruction. He kept these feelings a secret from his father, 
 who esteemed the Turkoman too highly to approve of the prince's 
 hostility towards him, and had, moreover, expressed his satisfaction 
 at the latter's marriage with Mher-ul-Nissa. Selim, however, 
 secretly fomented jealousies among the Omrahs against the popular
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 34S 
 
 as well as imperial favourite. These were easily excited ; for there 
 will never be found wanting persons ready to traduce those to whom 
 they are conscious of being inferior in moral excellence ; and 
 especially in courts where ambition is the ruling passion, nothing 
 can be less difficult than to provoke the envy of men whose sole 
 aim is aggrandisement, and who are therefore naturally disposed to 
 think ill of any who happen to contravene those aims, or to cross 
 tlie path of their ambition. The prince, therefore, had little diffi- 
 culty in accomplishing his purpose. He secretly disseminated 
 calumnies to the injury of Shere Afkun, who in disgust retired 
 from court into Bengal, where he obtained from the governor the 
 vicegerency of Burdwan, a considerable district in that province. 
 
 Here he lived undisturbed until the death of Akbar, which 
 caused the sincere regret of the whole nation, who in mourning the 
 decease of their Emperor deplored the loss of a great and a good 
 man. When Prince Selim became sovereign, his passion for the 
 daughter of Aiass revived in full force. The restraint being re- 
 moved under which the smothered flame had been so long and so 
 painfully suppressed, it burst forth with increased fierceness. He 
 was now absolute ; and being determined to possess the object of 
 his disappointed love, he made advances towards a reconciliation 
 with Shere Afkun ; but the brave Turkoman for a time resisted 
 all his importunities, perceiving their object, and resolving to part 
 neither with his wife nor with his honour, as he could not resign 
 the one without relinquishing the other. His strength was pro- 
 digious, and his bravery equal to his strength ; his integrity was 
 unimpeached, his reputation high, and he was alike feared and 
 respected by all classes. Upon every occasion where danger was 
 imminent, he was foremost to encounter it \ while his desperate 
 valour was the theme of many a romance and of many a song. His 
 bodily vigour was so great, that he had slain a lion single handed ; 
 from which circumstance he obtained the cognomen of Shere 
 Afkun, or the Lion-slayer, his original name being Asta Jillo. He 
 was, however, no less esteemed for his virtues than for his bravery ; 
 and Mher-ul-Nissa fully appreciated his rare endowments. She 
 was proud of his reputation. To her the Emperor's feelings were
 
 S46 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD- 
 
 no secret ; but she avoided his presence, in obedience to the wishei 
 of her husband, who was not altogether vAithout his suspicions that 
 the hostihty which the new sovereign manifested towards him was 
 solely on her account. He continued, therefore, in the province 
 of Bengal, without visiting the imperial capital. 
 
 Not long, however, after Jehangire had ascended the throne of 
 the Moguls, Shere Afkun was invited to court, whither, aftei 
 repeated solicitations, he repaired, trusting to his own high repu- 
 tation for security against any tyrannical exercise of the sovereign 
 power. Upon his arrival he was much caressed by the Emperor, 
 in order to lull suspicion. Open and generous himself, he sus- 
 pected no treachery in others. He left his wife at Burdwan, not 
 willing to expose her to the chance of attention from the sovereign, 
 that might keep alive former predilections, and renew his royal 
 rival's criminal hostility. 
 
 The young Emperor's court was splendid in the extreme. He 
 was fond of state ; but hunting being his passion, a day was ap- 
 pointed for the chase. All the chief nobles of the empire 
 attended, hoping to have an opportunity of exliibiting before 
 their royal master their skill and prowess in a pursuit at all times 
 extremely dangerous in eastern countries. A vast train, swelling 
 to the number of an army, issued from the gates of Lahore. The 
 cavalcade was prodigious. Upwards of five hundred elephants, 
 upon which rode the Emperor and his court, led the van towards q 
 jungle where the quarry was expected to be roused. The howdah 
 of the royal elephant was covered by a silken canopy, and its 
 whole caparison profusely ornamented with precious metals. 
 Thousands of spears glittered in tlie sun, the rays of which were 
 reflected in streams of glowing light from those various arms borne 
 by this motley cavalcade. The neighing of steeds was mingled 
 with the busy hum of men who thronged to the scene of exciting 
 enjo}Tnent. 
 
 Shere Afkun accompanied the court on horseback, armed only 
 with the sword with which he had slain a lion — having by that 
 act immortalised his name in the annals of his country. His royal 
 master showed him a very marked respect, occasionally consulting
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 347 
 
 him respecting the chase ; thus aggravating the jealousy of the 
 nobles, already sufficiently fierce against him. He received the 
 Emperor's courtesies with a cold but modest respect, not entirely 
 forgetting former unkindness, though without suspicion of future 
 injury. 
 
 The royal party at length entered the jungle, where the forest 
 haunts of the lion and tiger were shortly explored. The hunters 
 soon enclosed a mighty beast of the latter species, of which Jehan- 
 gire being apprized, immediately proceeded to the spot. He began 
 to entertain a hope that the period so long desired was arrived 
 when he should have an opportunity of exposing the life of his 
 former rival in an encounter from which the latter would have Httle 
 chance of escaping. Seeing the tiger at a short distance, sur 
 rounded by hunters, lashing the ground with its tail and giving 
 other tokens of savage hostility, the despot demanded of those 
 around him, who would venture to attack the ferocious beast ? 
 
 All stood silent and confounded. They had not expected such 
 a proposal : nor did they appear to entertain any wish to expose 
 their lives in a conflict in which more danger than glory would be 
 reaped. 
 
 As none of them advanced, and the Emperor began to knit his 
 brows and show symptoms of displeasure, Shere Afkun already en- 
 tertained a hope that the enterprise would devolve upon him ; but, 
 to his extreme mortification, three Omrahs stepped forward and 
 offered to encounter the forest tyrant. Jehangire cast upon the 
 bold Turkoman a glance of such unequivocal expression that 
 his pride kindled, and he longed to show how little backward he 
 was to engage the brindled foe ; but as three nobles had first chal- 
 lenged the encounter, he could not set aside their prior claim to a 
 distinction which they insisted upon striving for. 
 
 Upon receiving the approbation of their royal master, they 
 severally prepared for the encounter, dismounting from their 
 elephants, and arming themselves with sword, spear, and shield. 
 Shere Afkun, fearing that he was likely to be rivalled, and that his 
 fame would be tarnished by inferior men undertaking a conflict 
 which by his silence he might be supposed to have declined, ad-
 
 3+8 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 vanced, and presenting himself before the sovereign, said firmly : 
 " To attack an unarmed creature with weapons is neither fair nor 
 manly ; it is taking an advantage of an animal which cannot plead 
 against such injustice but by a fierce retahation. Such is not in 
 accordance with the character of the truly brave. All manual 
 contests should be undertaken upon equal terms. The Deity has 
 given limbs and sinews to man as well as to tigers, and has im- 
 parted reason to the former in order to countervail the deficiency of 
 strength. Let the nobles of your imperial majesty then lay aside 
 their arms and attack the enemy with those only with which the 
 Deity has provided them. If they shrink from such an encounter, 
 I am prepared to undertake it." 
 
 Jehangire rewarded the speaker with a smile of gracious appro- 
 bation; but his Omrahs, one and all, declined such a perilous 
 contest, insisting upon the madness of the enterprise. To the 
 Emperor's infinite suqDrise and delight, the bold Turkoman in- 
 stantly cast aside his sword and -shield, and prepared to engage 
 the tiger unarmed. 
 
 The circle of hunters, which had surrounded the forest tyrant, 
 
 opened to admit the champion. The ferocious beast with which 
 
 he was to engage lay at the root of a tree, snarling hideously as 
 
 its enemy approached, erecting the fur upon its tail and back, 
 
 passing its tongue every now and then over the terrific fangs with 
 
 which its jaws were armed, but seeming ill disposed to commence 
 
 the contest. Shere Afkun was stripped to his trousers, and his 
 
 fine muscular frame, a model for an Indian Apollo, exhibited its 
 
 noble proportions as he advanced cautiously but firmly towards 
 
 his foe. The tiger lay upon its belly without attempting to stir, 
 
 nevertheless giving evident tokens of a determination to retaliate 
 
 if attacked. The ponderous paws projected from beneath its 
 
 chest ; and upon these it occasionally rested its head, until roused 
 
 by the approach of its adversary. Every eye was fixed upon the 
 
 scene ; every heart throbbed with the strongest emotion of anxiety. 
 
 The sovereign alone sat upon his elephant, apparently calm and 
 
 undisturbed ; but the deep flush upon his cheek showed that he 
 
 took no ordinary interest in the approaching encounter. He did
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 34^ 
 
 not Utter a word as he saw the man whom he considered doomed 
 to inevitable destruction march resolutely up to the prostrate tiger 
 and strike it in the ribs with his foot. The animal, now excited 
 to ferocious resistance, instantly sprang upon its legs, but crept 
 backward with its face to the enemy and its belly to the ground. 
 Shere Afkun advanced as it retreated, keeping his eyes fixed upon 
 those of the enraged beast. At length the latter suddenly turned, 
 and bounded forward ; but was stopped by the spears of the 
 hunters, who still encircled it at a distance, all armed to prevent 
 its escape. Finding its purpose foiled, it again turned, and being 
 beyond the influence of the Turkoman's eye, prepared to make 
 its perilous spring. 
 
 Shere Afkun now retreated in his turn, and, pausing near a tree, 
 awaited the approach of his enemy. It instantly bounded on 
 ward, sweeping its tail above the ground with an uncertain motion, 
 but without uttering a sound. The brave champion, who from 
 experience was well acquainted with the habits of those animals 
 which are the terror of the jungles and their immediate neighbour- 
 hood, well knew that the creature was about to spring. Placing 
 his right foot forward, and planting his left firmly against the pro- 
 jecting root of the tree, he calmly awaited the menaced peril. The 
 tiger crouched, and uttered a short sharp growl, projected its body 
 forward with a celerity and force which nothing could have re- 
 sisted ; but the wary Turkoman leaped aside as the living projectile 
 was about to fall upon him, and turning quickly, seized his bafitled 
 foe by the tail ; then swinging it round with a strength and dex- 
 terity that astonished every beholder, brought its head in such 
 violent contact with the tree, that for several seconds it was com^ 
 pletely stunned. After a while, however, it recovered, but lay still 
 and panting, not at all relishing, as it seemed, a renewal of the 
 conflict. As the victory was not yet decided, Shere Afkun again 
 approached the prostrate beast in order to rouse it to resistance. 
 He kicked it several times, but it only growled, lashed its tail, 
 showed its fangs — remaining perfectly passive under these acts of 
 aggression. 
 
 The hero, tired of this indecisive mode of warfare, seized it
 
 350 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 again by the tail, and, swinging it round as he had already done, 
 brought its head once more in stunning contact with the tree. The 
 blow, though severe, did not produce the same effect as before j 
 for the enraged animal, suddenly rising to the full height of its 
 stature, turned on its aggressor with a savage roar, and seized him 
 by the fleshy part of the thigh behind. As his trousers were loose 
 the tiger was somewhat deceived, and therefore, fortunately, did 
 not take so large a mouthful as it no doubt would have done had 
 the limb been entirely naked. Shere Af kun instantly grasped it by 
 the windpipe, and, squeezing it with all his might, soon obliged 
 the creature to quit its hold ; but with a violent twist it freed itself 
 from the strong grip oi its adversary, and instantly renewed the 
 encounter. 
 
 The struggle now became indeed terrific, and the anxiety of the 
 spectators increased in proportion, Jehangire could no longer 
 control the feeling by which he was overborne. His parted lips, 
 between which the tongue protruded with a quivering nervousness 
 of motion, his eyelids so raised as to discover the entire orb of 
 his eager, restless eyes, the tremulous aspect of his whole frame, — 
 showed the extent of his interest in the issue of this unnatural 
 strife. 
 
 By this time the tiger had again rallied, and having raised it- 
 self upon its hind-legs, struck both its fore-paws upon the Turko- 
 man's breast, tearing the flesh from the bone. Shere Afkun fell 
 under the weight of this deadly assault ; but, still undismayed, 
 after a desperate effort he contrived to roll over upon his panting 
 foe, now nearly exhausted from its exertions and by the severe 
 blows it had received, and, forcing his hand between its extended 
 jaws, griped it so firmly by the root of the tongue, that in a few 
 seconds it lay strangled beneath his grasp. He then rose stream- 
 ing with blood, pointed to his dead enemy, made a salaam to the 
 Emperor, and quitted the field grievously lacerated. 
 
 The Emperor was astounded at the issue. The champion was 
 borne home in a palankeen, and for several weeks his hfe was de- 
 spaired of. To the surprise of Jehangire, Shere Afkun eventually 
 recovered, though he carried the marks of the tiger's claws to his
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 35* 
 
 grave. The royal rival was nevertheless detemimed not to forego 
 his purpose of destroying this remarkable man, though he feared 
 to do it openly. Meanwhile the hero went abroad, everywhere 
 unattended, utterly unsuspicious of a design against his life. He 
 Vas not conscious of having offended a human creature, and there- 
 fore did not suppose that any man living could desire his death. 
 He lived in retirement ; but whenever he appeared at court, whicli 
 he occasionally did, he was always treated by the sovereign with 
 marked respect and great apparent cordiality. This, however, was 
 only to mask the most sanguinary intentions, which were no secret 
 CO many of the nobles, who, in common with their master, desired 
 the destruction of a brave man because he was a hated rival. 
 
 Private orders had been given to the driver of a large elephant 
 to waylay the Turkoman and tread him to death. The opportu- 
 nity did not immediately occur, as the victim went abroad at un- 
 certain periods ; and though his movements were watched, it was 
 found a difficult matter to come upon him at a favourable moment. 
 One day, however, as he was returning from the public baths 
 through a narrow street, observing an elephant approaching, he 
 ordered his palankeen-bearers to turn aside and permit it to pass. 
 As the huge animal came near, he at once perceived that there 
 was no room for it to pass without crushing the palankeen, and 
 thus endangering the lives of himself and attendants. 
 
 The elephant still came onward. Shere Afkun called to the 
 mahoot to stop, but his order was disregarded. The phlegmatic 
 Hindoo, sitting upon its neck apparently in a state of half con- 
 sciousness, took no heed of the peril of the party before him. 
 The Omrah, seeing that it was impossible to avoid the approach- 
 ing danger except by making a timely retreat, ordered his bearers 
 to turn and carry him back to the baths ; but they, terrified at the 
 evident hazard to which they were exposed, threw down the palan- 
 keen and fled, leaving their master to setde the question of priority 
 of right to a passage on the Emperor's highway. The hero, un- 
 dismayed by the formidable aspect of the jeopardy by which he 
 was menaced, sprang instantly from the ground, drew his sword, 
 and, before the elephant could accomplish its fatal purpose, severed
 
 t<S» THE LIGHT OP THE -WORLD. 
 
 Its trunk close to the root. The gigantic animal immediately 
 dropped and expired. The mahoot leaped from its neck as it was 
 in the act of falling, and escaped. 
 
 Shere Ancmi, suspecting that in urging the elephant upon him 
 the fellow had been actuated by that personal feeling which so 
 generally exists between Hindoo and Mahomedan, forebore to 
 pursue him, thinking the mean passions of a hireling too contemp- 
 tible to rouse his indignation ; he therefore allowed the offender 
 to escape unmolested, and coolly wiping the blade of his sword, 
 returned it to the scabbard. 
 
 Jehangire witnessed the whole scene. He had placed himselt 
 at a small lattice that overlooked the street. He was perfectly 
 amazed, but disappointment and vexation banished from his 
 bosom the better feelings of nature. Shere Afkun waited upon 
 him and communicated what had passed : the Emperor extolled 
 his bravery with warmth, and thus escaped his suspicion. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 REPEATED disappointment only served the more to ex- 
 asperate the sovereign's jealousy. It raged like a furnace 
 within him ; for to exercise a due control over their actions is not 
 the general character of despots. His peace of mind was per- 
 petually disturbed by the fierceness of his emotions, and he be- 
 came more than ever bent upon the death of his successful rival 
 in the affections of INIher-ul-Nissa. 
 
 Shere Afkun was not permitted to remain long unmolested. 
 Kuttub, Suba or governor of Bengal, knowing his master's wishes, 
 and in order to ensure his future favour, hired forty ruffians to 
 assassinate the dreaded Omrah. So confident was the latter in 
 his OAvn strength and valour, that he took no precaution to protect 
 himself against secret or open enemies. He lived in a solitary 
 house in which he retained only an aged porter, all his other 
 servsnts occupying apartments at a distance. Relying upon his
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. -53 
 
 Own courage and the vigour of his arm, he had no apprehension 
 either of the secret assassin or the open foe. 
 
 This was a tempting opportunity. The murderers were engaged, 
 and had been promised such a reward as should urge them to the 
 most desperate exertions in order to ensure tlie consummation of 
 their employer's wishes. They entered the apartment while their 
 victim was asleep. A lamp hung from the ceiling and threw its 
 dim light upon him as he reclined in profound slumber. There 
 was no mistaking the hero, as he lay with his noble head upon his 
 arm, his expansive forehead turned towards the light, every line 
 blended into one smooth unbroken surface denoting the perfect 
 placidity of repose. Over his muscular frame was lightly thrown 
 a thin coverlid, which did not entirely conceal its beautiful pro- 
 portions, exhibited in the indistinct but traceable outline of the 
 figure beneath. He slept profoundly. The murderers approached 
 the bed and raised their daggers to strike ; when one of them, 
 touched with remorse at the idea of such an unmanly assault 
 upon a man who had so signalised his courage and virtues, cried 
 out, under an impulse of awakened conscience, " Hold ! are we 
 men ? What ! forty to one, and afraid to encounter him awake ?" 
 
 This timely interposition of the assassin's remorse saved the 
 life of his intended victim ; for the Turkoman, aroused by the 
 manly expostulation, started from his bed, seized his sword, and 
 retiring backwards before the assassins had all entered, reached the 
 corner of the apartment, where he prepared to defend himself to 
 the last extremity. As he retreated, he had drawn the couch before 
 him, thus preventing the immediate contact of his enemies, who 
 endeavoured in vain to reach him ; and as they were only armed 
 with daggers, he cut down several of them without receiving a 
 single wound. Urged on, however, by the great amount of the 
 reward offered, the murderers still pressed upon him, and suc- 
 ceeded at length in dragging the couch from his grasp, though not 
 before he had caused several others to pay for their temerity with 
 their lives. He was at length exposed to the full operation of 
 their brutal fury. Ten of his enemies already lay dead upon the 
 floor, showing fatal evidence of the strength and celerity of his 
 
 INDIA. A A
 
 3S4 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 arm ; there, however, remained thirty to vanquish ; and, placing 
 his back against the wall, the hero prepared for the unequal and 
 deadly struggle. 
 
 Seeing him now entirely exposed to their assault, the ruffians 
 rushed simultaneously forward, in the hope of being able to des- 
 patch him at once with their daggers ; but they so encumbered 
 each other by suddenly crowding upon their victim in their anxiety 
 to prevent his escape, that they could not strike. He meanwhile, 
 taking advantage of the confusion, laid several of them dead at 
 his feet : nevertheless they pressed forward, and the same result 
 followed. Shifting his ground, but still managing to keep his back 
 against the wall, he defeated all their attempts ; and such was his 
 fearful precision in employing his sword, that not a man came 
 within its sweep without receiving practical experience of the 
 strength with which it was wielded. Besides those already slain, 
 many others of the assailants fell desperately wounded. At length 
 the rest, fearing the extermination of their whole band, betook 
 themselves to flight, and left him without a wound. 
 
 The man who had warned Shere Afkun of his danger stood 
 fixed in mute astonishment at the prowess of him whom he had 
 received a commission to murder. He had been so paralysed, 
 that he could neither join in the attack, nor defend his victim 
 from the sanguinary assault which the latter had so heroically de- 
 feated. He had no time for meditation. The charge had been 
 so sudden, and the defence so marvellous, that his mind remained 
 in a state of stagnation, and was restored to its proper tone 
 only upon seeing the extraordinary issue. Perceiving himself to 
 be alone with the man whom he had undertaken to destroy for a 
 base bribe, his heart sank within him — he felt that he deserved to 
 die ; but his intended victim advanced, and kindly taking his 
 hand, welcomed him as his deliverer. Having ascertained from 
 the man's unreluctant confession by whom the assassins had been 
 hired, the hero dismissed him with a liberal benefaction. 
 
 This remarkable exploit was repeated from mouth to mouth 
 with a thousand exaggerations ; so that wherever Shere Afkun ap- 
 peared, he was followed and pointed at as a man of superhuman
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 3SS 
 
 powers. Song? and romances were written to extol his prowess 
 and magnanimity. He was cheered by the populace wherever he 
 approached. Mothers held up their babes to behold this ex- 
 traordinary warrior, blessing him as he passed, and praying that 
 their sons might emulate his virtues. He was flattered by these 
 universal suffrages in his favour ; nevertheless, in order to avoid a 
 recurrence of perils similar to those from which he had so recently 
 escaped, he retired to Burdwan. 
 
 Meanwhile the Emperor, burning with secret rage at hearing 
 the valour of his rival the theme of every tongue, gave orders to 
 his creature, the Suba of Bengal, to seek a more favourable oppor- 
 tunity than he had before availed himself of, to destroy this de- 
 tested Omrah : for such was his astonishing strength and dexterity, 
 that the Suba dared not attack him openly. 
 
 Being now at a distance from court, the bold Turkoman thought 
 himself beyond the influence of his sovereign's jealousy, and, with 
 the natural frankness of his character, immediately cast aside all 
 suspicion of mischief The Suba coming with a great retinue to 
 Burdwan, about sixty miles from the modern capital of Bengal, 
 with a pretence of making a tour of the territory placed under his 
 political superintendence, communicated to his officers the secret 
 of his mission. They heard him with silent pleasure ; for most 
 of the nobles being jealous of a rival's popularity, with a mean 
 and dastardly spirit joined readily in the scheme for his destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Unsuspicious of any hostile intention towards him, the devoted 
 Omrah went out to meet the Suba as he was entering the town, 
 and the latter affected to treat him with great cordiality. He rode 
 by the governor's elephant, familiarly conversing with the nobles 
 who formed his suite, and frequently receiving a gracious smile of 
 approbation from the Emperor's vicegerent. He was completely 
 thrown off" his guard by this apparently courteous bearing ; and 
 abandoning himself to the generous warmth of his nature, invited 
 the Omralis to his abode, resolving to entertain them with a mu- 
 nificence equal to the liberality of his disposition ; a determina- 
 tion which he knew his wife, the beautiful Mher-ul-Nissa, would 
 
 A A 2
 
 SSS THE LIGHT OF THE WOULD. 
 
 not be backward in fulfilling. Full of these hospitable resolu- 
 tions, he pressed forward with a gaiety which showed the utter 
 absence of suspicion. 
 
 In the progress of the cavalcade, a pikeman, pretending that 
 Shere Afkun was in the way, rudely struck his horse. In a 
 moment the latter's suspicions were roused ; his countenance 
 darkened, and he cast around him a look of fiery indignation. 
 Without an instant's delay he drew his sword and clove the 
 offender to the earth. Knowing that no soldier would have thus 
 acted without orders, the insulted noble immediately saw that hi;'! 
 life was aimed at, and directly spurring his horse towards the 
 elephant of the treacherous Suba, he tore down the howdah, seized 
 the cowardly Kuttub by the throat, and buried his sword in the 
 traitor's body before any of his guards could rescue him ; then 
 turning upon the Omrahs, five were almost instantly sacrificed to 
 his just revenge, 
 
 Reeking with their blood, the avenger stood before the host, 
 sternly braving the retribution which he saw them preparing to 
 inflict, and hailing them with a loud defiance. He expected no 
 quarter, and therefore determined not to yield without a struggle. 
 His mind was braced to the extreme tension of desperate energy, 
 and he resolved that the coveted prize of his death should be 
 dearly won. Those who were within the immediate reach of his 
 arm he slew without distinction, and such was the fatal celerity of 
 his motions that the enemy fled before him in dismay. He did 
 not pursue, but challenged the unequal strife. Like a grim lion, 
 he stood defiant before them, spotted with the gore of the slain, 
 and prepared for fresh slaughter, but there was not a foe daring 
 enough to approach him. 
 
 Terrified at his prowess, the soldiers began to discharge their 
 arrows and matchlocks at him from a distance. His horse^ struck 
 by a ball in the forehead, fell dead under him. Springing upon 
 his feet, he slew several of the enemy who had ventured to rush 
 forward in the hope of despatching him while encumbered with 
 the housings of his fallen charger. They fled at the sight of their 
 slain comrades, and left their unvanquished destroyer to the aim
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 357 
 
 of his distant foes, who fired upon him without intermission. 
 Covered with wounds and bleeding at every pore, the still un- 
 daunted lion-slayer called upon the Suba's officers to advance and 
 meet him in single combat, but they one and all declined the 
 encounter. They saw that certain death to each of them must be 
 the issue of such a contest. It was evident, moreover, that their 
 victim could not escape the aim of so many enemies. 
 
 At length, seeing his end approaching, the brave Turkoman, 
 like a devout Mahomedan, turned his face towards Mecca, threw 
 some dust upon his head by way of ablution, there being no water 
 near, and standing up, calm and undismayed, before the armed 
 files of his murderers, received at one discharge six balls in his 
 body, and expired without a groan. 
 
 Thus perished one of the greatest heroes whose exploits have 
 had a conspicuous place in the histories of nations. 
 
 The beautiful widow was immediately transported to Delhi, but 
 Jehangire refused to see her, whether from remorse or policy is 
 uncertain. He ordered her to be confined in one of the worst 
 apartments of the harem. This was exceedingly galling to hei 
 sensitive and haughty spirit. 
 
 The harem of an eastern prince is at once the penetralia of the 
 political and social sanctuary, whence emanate all the cabals and 
 conspiracies so rife in the cabinets of Moslem potentates ; it may, 
 therefore, be as well to give a brief deicription of a Mahomedan 
 sovereign's domestic establishment. 
 
 In the harem are educated the Mogul princes and the principal 
 youth among the nobles destined for posts of responsibility in the 
 empire. It is generally separated from the palace, but so nearly 
 contiguous as to be of ready access. None are admitted within 
 its apartments except the Emperor and those immediately attached 
 to its several offices, the duties of which are performed by women. 
 It is generally enclosed by lofty walls, and surrounded by spacious 
 gardens, laid out with all the splendour of eastern magniiicence, 
 where every luxury is obtained which the appetite may demand or 
 money can procure. Those inmates who form the matrimonial 
 confederacy of the Mogul potentate are among the most beautiful
 
 3S9 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 girls which the empire can furnish. They are taught embroidery, 
 music, and dancing by certain old women hired to instruct them 
 in every blandishment that may captivate the senses and stimu- 
 late the passions. These lovely captives are never permitted to 
 appear abroad except when the Emperor travels, and then they 
 are conveyed in litters closed by curtains, or in boats with small 
 cabins, admitting the light and air only through narrow Venetian 
 blinds. 
 
 The apartments of the harem are very splendid, always, how- 
 ever, of course in proportion to the wealth of the prince. The 
 favourite object of his affections exhibits the dignity and enjoys 
 the privilege of a queen, though of a queen in captivity. "WTiile 
 her beauty lasts she is frequently regarded with a feeling almost 
 amounting to idolatry, but when that beauty passes away the 
 warmth of love subsides, her person no longer charms, her voice 
 ceases to impart delight, her faded cheeks and sharpened tones 
 become disagreeable memorials of the past. Neither her song 
 nor her lute is now heard with pleasure, for in the beautiful imagery 
 of the Persian poet, "When the roses wither and the bower loses 
 its sweetness, you have no longer the tale of the nightingale." 
 
 The favourite, however, while she continues her ascendancy . 
 over the heart of her lord, is treated with sovereign respect through- 
 out the harem. She smokes her golden-tubed hookha, the mouth- 
 piece studded with gems ; and enjoys the fresh morning breeze 
 under a veranda that overlooks the gardens of the palace, attended 
 by her damsels, only second to herself in attraction of person and 
 splendour of attire. 
 
 *' Her smiling countenance resplendent shines 
 With youth and loveliness ; her lips disclose 
 Teeth white as jasmine blossoms ; silky curls 
 Luxuriant shade her cheeks ; and every limb, 
 Of slightest texture, moves with natural gi-ace, 
 lake moonbeams gliding through the yielding air,"* 
 
 * Uttara Rama Cheritra, a Hindoo drama, translated by Horace Hayman 
 Wilson, Esq., from the original Sanscrit.
 
 THE UGHT OF THE WORLD. 359 
 
 Here she reclines in oblivious repose upon a rich embroidered 
 carpet from the most celebrated looms of Persia. Through an 
 atmosphere of the richest incense she breathes the choicest per- 
 fumes of Arabia the happy, and has everything around her that 
 can administer to sensual delight ; still she is generally an un- 
 happy being. She dwells in the midst of splendid misery and 
 ungratifying profusion, while all within herself is desolation and 
 hopelessness. Her sympathies are either warped or stifled ; her 
 heart is blighted and her mind degraded. She cannot join in the 
 enthusiasm of the inimitable Hafiz* : " The breath of the western 
 gale will soon shed musk around ; the old world will again be 
 young," but languishes, as the seasons return, in the most debasing 
 captivity, and feels that the western gale breathes not upon her 
 either the freshness of freedom or of joy. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE daughter of the Tartar Aiass was a woman of haughty 
 spirit, and could ill brook the indifference with which she 
 was treated by her former admirer. It preyed deeply upon her 
 mind. She was not ignorant of the Emperor's hostility towards 
 her late husband, though unconscious that it had been the cause 
 of his death. She severely felt her bereavement ; and the change 
 from perfect freedom to captivity — from the aftection of a gene- 
 rous husband to the indifference of a capricious master, deeply 
 mortified her. Meanwhile, however, she was not idle : the re- 
 sources of her mind were no less fertile than extraordinary. 
 
 Being very expert at working tapestry and all kinds of embroi- 
 dery, and in painting silks with the richest devices, she applied 
 herself with great assiduity to those employments. By intense 
 
 * Hafiz was a lyric poet, called, by way of pre-eminent distinction, the 
 Anacreon of Persia.
 
 35o THE LrGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 application, she acquired an expertness which enabled her to trans- 
 cend the works of the best manufacturers in the empire. In a 
 short time the exquisite productions of her taste and skill became 
 the talk of the capital, and she immediately became a person oi 
 importance, apart from her being the widow of the renowned 
 Shere Afkun. The ladies of the Omrahs of Delhi and Agra 
 would wear nothing upon grand occasions but what came from 
 the hands of the lovely Mher-ul-Nissa ; she was consequently soon 
 pronounced the oracle of fashion and of taste. 
 
 While she affected an extreme simplicity in her own dress, she 
 attired her attendants in the richest tissues and brocades, making 
 those who had attractive persons the vehicle of setting off to 
 advantage the works of her own industry. She thus amassed a 
 considerable sum of money, and became more celebrated in her 
 obscurity than she had hitherto been as the wife of the most 
 distinguished hero of his age. Her milder glories had been 
 hitherto eclipsed by the predominancy of his. 
 
 Notwithstanding the success of her exertions in the occupation 
 to which she had devoted herself, the daughter of Aiass the Tartar 
 was still an unhappy woman. She loathed her captivity : she felt 
 the moral degradation to which she was subjected, and that the 
 influence which she imagined herself born to exercise was 
 extinguished by an untoward destiny. She had always entertained 
 a secret conviction that the strange events of her birth portended 
 1 mortal distinction of singular splendour ; it therefore mortified 
 iier to find that she continued to live celebrated only as a 
 fabricator of brocades and tissues. Her spirits drooped : she 
 grew peevish and irritable. Her occupation became a toil, and 
 she talked of relinquishing it, when one day she was apprised that 
 there was an old woman in the harem who pretended to look 
 into the future and read the destinies of mankind. Mher-ul-Nissa 
 immediately sent for the prophetess. The crone appeared before 
 lier, bending beneath the weight of years. Upon seeing the 
 widow of the late Shere Afkun, she lifted her skinny arms, clasped 
 her bony fingers together, and muttered a few incoherent words 
 which had more the seeming of madness than of prophecy : there
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. <it3 
 
 was, however, more sanity than madness in the mummery — it was a 
 sort of label to her draught of foreknowledge. 
 
 "Well, mother," inquired Mher-ul-Nissa mildly, "what do 
 those strange words portend ? I would know something of my 
 destiny, if it is in thy power to read it : if not, take this, and leave 
 a blessing behind thee ; for an aged woman's curse is a dreadful 
 thing to hang over any one's head." Saying this, she placed a 
 gold mohur upon the beldam's right palm, who giving a chuckle 
 of delight, mumbled forth her vaticination with a distorted grin of 
 satisfaction. " You were born in a desert to die upon a throne. 
 She who as a babe was embraced by a reptile, as a woman will 
 be embraced by a king. The infant that was brought into the 
 world amidst famine will go out of it amidst plenty. The star, so 
 puny at thy birth, will expand into a sun. I am not deceived ; — 
 believe me, and leave here a proof of your faith." She extended 
 her hand, and having received another golden recompense, 
 retired. 
 
 Mher-ul-Nissa was willing to believe the prophecy of the sibyl. 
 There was something in it, in spite of its vague generalities, that 
 harmonized closely with those silent presentiments which she had 
 for some time past permitted herself to cherish. She was 
 ambitious, and a thirst after distinction was her ruhng passion. Her 
 mind was too strongly fortified against superstition to render her 
 the dupe of a juggler's predictions ; nevertheless, the mere promise 
 of aggrandisement was agreeable to her ear, and she therefore lent 
 a willing attention to what her reason despised, not caring to pay 
 for the indulgence a thousand times above its value. She 
 cherished the promise of worldly exaltation, not because she 
 bfcjlieved the hag who made it had a further insight into futurity 
 than her neighbours, but only because the theme was grateful to 
 her sensitive ambition; and there moreover existed a strong 
 presentiment within her, that she should rise from the grovelling 
 condition to which she was now reduced, and be exalted in 
 proportion to her present degradation. 
 
 Actuated by this feeling, she did everything in her power to 
 give currency to her reputation. She well knew that her taste
 
 36a THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 was the theme of general approbation, and the marvellous power 
 of her beauty began to be talked of beyond the precincts of the 
 harem. An Omrah of distinction, holding a high office in the 
 state, offered her his hand, and it was soon noised abroad that she 
 was about to become his wife. She secretly encouraged this 
 report, though she had given him no pledge, hoping that it would 
 come to higher ears and procure her an interview with the 
 Emperor. 
 
 This state of things could not last long j and when pressed by 
 the impatient noble for a definitive answer to his offer of marriage, 
 to his astonishment and that of all who were acquainted with tho 
 circumstance, she declined it. Mortified at his repulse, he deter- 
 mined to obtain by force what was denied to his entreaty, and 
 took an opportunity of violating the sanctity of the harem by 
 appearing before her. She was alone in her apartment when the 
 disappointed lover entered. He commenced by upbraiding her 
 with her caprice, which she bore with dignified patience, until, 
 irritated by her calmness, the Omrah seized her arm and roused 
 her indignation by the most offensive menaces. He being a 
 powerful man, she was as an infant in his grasp ; nevertheless, with 
 the impulse of roused passion, she suddenly burst from his embrace, 
 rushed into an inner chamber, and, seizing a crease, commanded 
 the intruder to retire. Maddened by disappointment, he sprang 
 forward to repeat the violence which he had already offered : she 
 instantly raised her arm and buried the dagger in his body. He 
 fell reeking in his blood. He was borne from the apartment 
 insensible ; and a confinement of three months to his bed, under 
 the daily peril of death, taught him a lesson never to pass from 
 memory but with his life. Other suitors sought the hand of the 
 Tartar's daughter, but all with like success. 
 
 The accomplishments of this singular woman were soon carried 
 to the ears of the Emperor, who had probably by this time for- 
 gotten the ascendency which she once held over his heart ; oi 
 perhaps it was that the mortification of her having been the 
 wife of another rendered him sullen in his determination not to 
 see her. He resolved, however, now to visit her, in order to have
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 363 
 
 ocular proof whether the voice of public report were a truth or an 
 exaggeration. One evening therefore he proceeded in state to 
 her apartment. At the sight of her unrivalled beauty, all his 
 former passion revived in an instant. She was reclining on a sofa 
 in jin undress robe of plain white muslin, which exhibited her 
 faultless shape to the best advantage, and became her better than 
 tlie richest brocades of Bagdat, or the finest embroideries of 
 Cashmere. As soon as the Emperor entered, the siren rose with 
 an agitation that served only to heighten her charms, and fixed her 
 eyes upon the ground with well-dissembled confusion. Jehangire 
 stood mute with amazement, and rapture took immediate posses- 
 sion of his soul : he felt, if he did not utter, the sentiment of an 
 eminent poet of his own religion : — 
 
 '• Sweet maid, if thou wouldst charm my sight, 
 And bid these arms thy neck infold ; 
 That rosy cheek, that lily hand, 
 Would give thy lover more delight 
 Then all Bocara's vaunted gold, 
 Than all the gems of Sarmacand." 
 
 He was dazzled by the perfection of her fonn, the dignity of her 
 mien, and the transcendent loveliness of her features. Advancing 
 to where she stood with downcast eyes and suftused cheeks, 
 blushing in the dazzling plenitude of her beauty, he took her 
 hand and said : " Sun of women, the Emperor of a great and 
 mighty nation throws himself at thy feet as an act of just homage 
 to thy beauty. Wilt thou be the Sultana of Jehangire the 
 predominant ?" 
 
 "A subject has no voice," replied the enchantress; "and a 
 woman especially can have no will but that of her sovereign : it is 
 his privilege to command — her heritage is to obey." 
 
 Jehangire again took her hand, declared his resolution to make 
 her his Empress, and immediately a proclamation was issued for 
 the celebration of the royal nuptials with the lovely relict of the 
 late Shere Afkun. 
 
 A general festival was observed throughout the empire. Those 
 rich embroideries which had lately been the admiration of the
 
 364 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 ladies of Delhi no longer issued from the harem. The humble 
 embroidress cast aside the distaff for the crown, and in the issue 
 proved to be one of the most extraordinary women which the pen 
 of history has celebrated. She became the principal director of 
 the complex machine of government. The name of Mher-ul-Nissa 
 was exchanged for that of Noor Mahil, " The Light of the Harem." 
 
 From this moment she was acknowledged as the favourite wife 
 of the Emperor of the Moguls. In the climax of her exaltation 
 her name was again changed to Noor Jehan, or, " The Light of 
 the World." As a distinguishing mark of her pre-eminence in the 
 sovereign's affections, she was allowed to assume the title of Shahe, 
 or Empress. Her family was held next in rank to the princes of 
 the blood, and advanced to places of the highest trust. Its 
 members were admitted to privileges which had never before been 
 enjoyed by subjects under the Mogul domination. The current 
 coin of the realm was stamped with her name, as well as with that 
 of the sovereign ! She converted the harem into a court, where 
 the mysteries of state policy were discussed with a freedom and a 
 power seldom known under despotic governments. 
 
 It was from the harem that those celebrated decrees were ful- 
 minated — for though they passed in the Emperor's name, it is 
 credibly attested that they emanated from his Sultana — which 
 rendered the reign of Jehangire one of the most politically pros- 
 perous in the annals of Mahomedan history. Her influence ex- 
 ceeded that of any other person in the empire, not even excepting 
 the sovereign ; and perhaps, under the rigid scrupulosity of Mogul 
 policy with regard to women sharing in the administration of the 
 state, there never has been an instance of one of the sex attaining 
 an ascendency so paramount, and such perfect political control 
 o . er the destinies of so many subject principalities as the renowned 
 Noor Jehan.
 
 36s 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A FEW years after the elevation of this extraordinary woman, 
 Churrum, the third son of Jehangire, who afterwards as- 
 cended the imperial throne under the assumed designation of 
 Shah Jehan, began to interrupt the harmony of the state. He had 
 been sent with a powerful army into the Deccan to quell a 
 formidable confederacy against the reigning authority, and having 
 succeeded in reducing the insurgents to obedience, began to 
 show his ambitious designs upon the crown. Under the most 
 plausible pretences, and while in command of the army with 
 which he had just quelled a dangerous insurrection, he persuaded 
 the Ernperor to put into his hands Chusero, Jehangire's eldest 
 son, and consequently heir to the throne, who had been im- 
 prisoned for rebellion. It soon became evident why he had been 
 so urgent to obtain the person of his rebellious brother. Chusero 
 was the grand obstacle between him and the crown. The 
 traitor Churrum now shortly threw off the mask, and publicly 
 declared his designs. His success in the Deccan had endeared 
 him to the troops; his courage had gained their confidence, 
 and his liberality secured their affections. Confiding in his 
 imagined power, he disregarded the mandates of his father, con- 
 tinued in arms, and commanding his unhappy brother to be 
 murdered under the walls of Azere, immediately assumed the im- 
 perial tides. 
 
 The Sultana had long suspected the intentions of Churrum. 
 In spite of the veil which he had thrown over his base designs, 
 they did not escape her penetration. Ambition was the dominant 
 feeling in the bosom of this crafty prince. The Empress, seeing 
 the evils likely to accme from this fierce passion if suffered to 
 operate unchecked, determined to take precautions to contravene 
 his measures. Before the death of Chusero she saw that the 
 unnatural brother, into whose power he had fallen, had a design 
 upon the throne. Every action of his public life had shown a 
 secret, but undeviating perseverance in the pursuit of dominion,
 
 366 THE LIGHT OP THE WORLD, 
 
 not to be mistaken. His cunning she felt might be overreached, 
 but his talents were formidable. He was not only a crafty 
 intriguer, but a brave and successful general. He had become 
 the idol of the army ; and with such a mighty engine to power, 
 she dreaded the final success of his schemes. She declared 
 her suspicions to the Emperor, who was at first unwilling to en- 
 tertain them ; but the wife had such an influence over the mind 
 of her royal husband, that he always listened with great confi- 
 dence to her suggestions. She assured him that Churrum must 
 be watched, advised his recall, and that the army should be 
 placed under a less dangerous command. She insisted upon 
 speedy and decisive measures, in order to obviate danger to the 
 state. To the Emperor's doubts of Churrum's ambitious inten- 
 tions she answered : 
 
 " A man does not seek the instruments of authority but to 
 employ them. When princes lay themselves out for popularity 
 they intend to make the mob their tools, and the citizens their 
 stepping-stones to dominion. He who has once deceived is 
 never to be trusted ; and I can too well discover that, under the 
 smiles of allegiance which so frequently play upon the features 
 of Prince Churrum in his father's presence, hypocrisy lurks like 
 the serpent in a bed of flowers." 
 
 After a while Jehangire was convinced by the arguments of the 
 Sultana of his son's evil designs, which an account of Chusero's 
 death soon confirmed. He was enraged at such a sanguinary 
 act of ambition, and determined to punish the fratricide. In 
 order to obviate the stigma which he knew would be attached 
 to the crime of murdering a brother, the crafty prince affected 
 such extreme grief, that he was believed by many to be innocent of 
 so atrocious an offence. Jehangire, however, or rather his 
 Empress, was not to be deceived by this barefaced hypocrisy : 
 the former wrote him a letter, accusing him of the crime ; at the 
 same time ordering the body of his murdeied son to be disin- 
 terred ; it was brought to the capital, and buried with the honours 
 due to his rank.
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD, 367 
 
 Although Prince Churrum was married to a niece of Noor Jehan 
 the hostility between him and the Empress had risen to such a 
 height that it was perfectly implacable. The rebellious prince well 
 knew that he owed the indignation of his parent to her influence ; 
 lie therefore resolved to lose no time in endeavouring to get her 
 into his power. Seeing no probability of a reconciliation with his 
 father, he determined to continue in his rebellion. 
 
 At the suggestion of his consort, Jehangire prepared to reduce 
 his son to obedience ; but his troops being at a distance, he could 
 not bring an army into the field. At this critical juncture, a 
 courier arrived from Mohabet Chan, the imperial general, stating 
 that he was advancing, with all the forces of the Punjab, to join 
 the royal army. Shortly after, the troops of Jehangire engaged 
 the rebels and entirely defeated them. The refractory prince was 
 so overcome by this unexpected reverse of fortune, that he 
 meditated suicide. The paroxysm, however, passed, and he fled 
 to the mountains of Mewat, where he found for the moment a 
 secure refuge from the anger of his father and the hostility of 
 Noor Jehan. Misfortune followed him : his party was defeated in 
 Guzerat. Still the royal rebel was so formidable, that it was 
 resolved to take him alive, as the only means of extinguishing the 
 flames of civil war, always disastrous to the victors as well as to 
 the vanquished. Mohabet Chan was therefore despatched, at the 
 head of a large detachment of Rajpoots, a race of soldiers pro- 
 verbially brave, to capture the royal insurgent. Churrum, in con- 
 sequence, quitted his retreat, determined to face the danger and 
 try the chance of another battle. Crossing the river Nerbudda, 
 in the province of Malvva, he threw up works to defend the ford. 
 Of the large and well-appointed army which had followed him 
 into the Deccan there remained only a small dispirited remnant, 
 and desertions were daily thinning his lines. He had no reliance 
 upon the soldiers, dejected from successive defeats, and murmur- 
 ing for their arrears of pay, which he was unable to provide. He 
 lost his energy, became incautious and irresolute, and allowed 
 himself to be surprised by the imperial general, who routed his
 
 S63 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 disheartened forces with great slaughter, and forced him again to 
 seek refuge in the hills. He soon, however, passed through Gol- 
 conda, and took the route to Bengal. 
 
 His escape was a source of severe mortification to the Sultana, 
 who foresaw that the repose of the state was not likely to be 
 secured until he should either be taken or destroyed. She was 
 besides anxious that the succession should be fixed upon Shariar, 
 the fourth son of Jehangire, who had married the daughter whom 
 3he had borne to Shere Afkun. By her representations, no doubt 
 in the main just, the Emperor's enmity towards his son was kept 
 alive ; of which the latter being aware, saw that it would not be 
 prudent to trust himself within the walls of his father's capital. 
 He had more than once thought of throwing himself upon the 
 paternal clemency ; but his knowledge of the Sultana's vindictive 
 spirit, and the consciousness of his own manifold derelictions, kept 
 him from running the risk of captivity for life, if not of undergoing 
 extreme punishment. 
 
 His affairs, however, now began to assume a more favourable 
 aspect. Having invested the fort of Tellia Gurri, in Bengal, with 
 a new army which he had raised in that province, after an obstinate 
 defence by the garrison, he succeeded in carrying the pkce by 
 storm. This unexpected success animated him to new exertions. 
 He now overran the whole district, which shortly submitted to his 
 arms. He reduced Dacca, a considerable city, and once the 
 capital of Bengal, in which he found an immense treasure in gold 
 and silver, besides jewels and warlike stores. The Suba was de- 
 posed, and a new governor raised, who ruled in the name of Shah 
 Jehan, by which title Prince Churrum finally ascended the impe- 
 rial throne. 
 
 No sooner had he settled the government of Bengal, than he 
 turned his thoughts to the neighbouring province of Bahar. The 
 governor fled at his approach ; but the wealthy zemindars crowded 
 to his camp to offer him their allegiance. He accepted their sub- 
 mission, together with the rich presents which they brought to 
 ratify the mutual compact of protection and affiance, and to con- 
 firm their sincerity. rtant occurrence, and
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 369 
 
 which greatly tended to strengthen him in his new conquests, was 
 the unexpected submission of Mubarick, governor of the fort oi 
 Rhotas, who came to his camp, presented him the keys, and made 
 a vow of perpetual fealty. This fortress was considered unimpreg 
 nable. It had never been taken by force, and was therefore 
 looked upon by the rebellious prince as a place of security for his 
 family. Here he immediately removed them ; and being now 
 relieved from immediate anxiety on their account, he was better 
 prepared to encounter the dangers of the field, and to brave the 
 vicissitudes of fortune. 
 
 This uninterrupted current of success inflamed the pride of the 
 royal rebel, and he fancied himself in a condition to contend for the 
 imperial sceptre with that army which had already twice so signally 
 defeated him. Mohabet Chan had again taken the field, and 
 marched as far as Benares, on the banks of the Ganges, to chastise 
 the insurgents, who mustered upwards of forty thousand horse, — 
 a force scarcely inferior to the imperialists in number, — and were 
 drawn up on the bank of a small stream. 
 
 The battle was desperate, but decisive. The rebels were routed 
 after a prodigious slaughter. The conduct of Prince Churrum on 
 this occasion was marked by reckless bravery. Plunging into the 
 thickest of the fight with five hundred horse, who had resolved to 
 devote themselves to death with their leader, he maintained a 
 sanguinary struggle against immense odds, and would, no doubt, 
 have fallen a victim to his despair, had not some of his ofiicers 
 seized the reins of his charger, and forced him from the battle to 
 a place of security. He fled to the fort of Rhotas, where he had 
 left his family. The plunder of his camp, which contained the 
 spoils of Dacca, saved him from immediate pursuit. 
 
 Leaving his family in the fortress, where he imagined they would 
 be secure, the wretched prince collected the scattered remains of 
 his army, and threw himself into Patna, which he determined to 
 defend, but thought it prudent to evacuate the city at the approach 
 of his enemies. He fled through Bengal towards the Deccan. 
 The provinces which he had so lately conquered fell again 
 under the legitimate authority. When Mohabet had settled 
 
 INDIA. B B
 
 370 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 the government of these districts, he marched after the royal 
 fugitive. 
 
 Though his fortunes were reduced to so low an ebb, the prince 
 did not despond. His mind was active, and these severe reverses 
 only seemed to animate him to new enterprises. He attached 
 to his desperate fortunes the Rajah of Ambere, who entertained 
 some cause of enmity towards Jehangire. Strengthened by the 
 forces of this new ally, he reduced the city of Boorhampoor ; when 
 the imperial army arriving, forced him to raise the siege and take 
 shelter in the mountains of Ballagat. In his retreat he made an 
 attempt upon a strong fortress on the frontiers of Kandeish, where 
 he was repulsed with considerable loss. 
 
 This completed his ruin. His nobles no longer followed him ; 
 and the troops, under the sanction of their example, deserted his 
 standard. A thousand horse only remained. " His spirits sank 
 within him ; his misfortunes oppressed him, his guilt and folly were 
 always present to his mind. Sickness was added to his other 
 miseries. He was hunted like a wild beast from place to place ; 
 all mankind were his enemies — he was their foe. Where he 
 thought he could not overcome, he fled ; he spread devastation 
 through places where he could prevail. He was, however, 
 tired of rapine. Worn down by contention and hostility, he A\Tote 
 letters of compunction to his father : he enlarged on his own guilt, 
 — he even added, if possible, to his own wretchedness and 
 misfortune. Jehangire was often full of affection — he was always 
 weak : and he was shocked at the miserable condition of a son 
 whom he had once loved ; his tears fell upon the part of that 
 son's letter which mentioned guilt, and his crimes vanished from 
 memory. ! 
 
 "In the midst of this returning softness, Jehangire was not 
 altogether void of policy. He wrote to his son, that if he would 
 give orders to the governors of Rhotas, of Azere, and other 
 places which were still held out in his name, to deliver up their 
 forts, and send his three sons, Dara, Aunmgzebe, and Murad, to 
 court, he would be forgiven for his past crimes. Churrum embraced 
 the ofir*" with joy; he delivered up the forts and sent his children
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 372 
 
 to Agra. He, however, found various pretences for not appearing 
 in person at court. He alleged that he was ashamed to see a 
 father whom he had so much injured ; but he was actually afraid 
 of the machinations of the Sultana. He made excursions, under a 
 pretence of pleasure, through all parts of the empire, attended by 
 five hundred horse. He was sometimes heard of at Ajmere, 
 sometimes at Tatta on the Indus, and again in the Deccan."* 
 Such was the termination of this formidable rebellion, the sup- 
 pression of which Jehangire entirely owed to the vigilance and 
 foresight of his Empress, Noor Jehan, This remarkable woman 
 was ever conspicuous amid the great stir of the times ; and in every 
 action of her life she displayed that predominancy of mind which 
 had distinguished her even before her exaltation to the imperial 
 sceptre, which she may be said to have wielded, — for though it 
 appeared in the hand of her husband, she gave strength to the 
 grasp by which he held it, and imparted stability to his throne. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AMONG the extraordinary occurrences of Noor Jehan 's life, 
 perhaps there is none that more forcibly developes her 
 character than her bearing towards Mohabet Chan, after the signal 
 services which he had rendered the state by suppressing the re- 
 bellion of Prince Churrum. The eminent abilities displayed by 
 Mohabet during his command of the imperial armies had won for 
 him the confidence of his master and of the Empress ; and this 
 confidence was increased by his suppression of the most formidable 
 rebellion which disturbed the reign of Jehangire. His family was 
 raised to offices of trust in the state, and the Emperor treated him 
 wilh a distinction that excited the envy of the nobles. But the 
 gratitude of princes has ever been a questionable virtue ; their 
 suspicions are readily excited, and there are never wanting engines 
 to set those suspicions at work. 
 
 * Vide Dow, ad loc. 
 B B 2
 
 371 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 The Sultana soon became apprehensive of Mohabet's influence 
 tt ith the Emperor ; and therefore, to abridge it, put in operation 
 the active energies of her mind. Jehangire was naturally a credu- 
 lous man, and the rebellion of his son had rendered him suspicious. 
 The virtues of his general ought to have placed him above the 
 petty surmises suggested by envy ; but his abilities had raised him 
 enemies at court, and his master wanted firmness to repel the in- 
 sinuations levelled against the man who had been the main prop 
 of his throne. Mohabet soon perceived a change in his sovereign's 
 feelings ; but, conscious of his own integrity, he was at no pains 
 to remove the prejudices excited against him. He was conscious 
 that he owed much of the growing coldness evident in the Em- 
 peror's manner towards him to the misrepresentations of Noor 
 Jehan ; and thence grew a strong and mutual antipathy, which 
 had nearly proved the means of transferring the empire from the 
 house of Timur to another dynasty. 
 
 The immediate cause of that open rupture which ensued, and 
 had nearly cost Jehangire his crown, was an accusation made to 
 the Sultana by a noble that Mohabet had sanctioned his son's 
 death, which the father expressed himself determined to avenge. 
 He further stated that the general entertained a design of raising 
 his sovereign's second son to the throne. This was reported to 
 the Emperor ; it immediately excited his fears, and he listened 
 uith weak credulity to a charge of treason against his general. 
 Blinded by his terrors, he forgot the services which that great and 
 good man had rendered to the state, and weakly listened to the 
 voice of his slanderers. 
 
 Mohabet, who was at this time in Bengal, received his master's 
 imperative orders to repair immediately to the capital. As he did 
 not instantly obey, he received a second summons, still more pe- 
 remptory, accompanied with such manifestations of displeasure, 
 that he could no longer mistake the danger of his situation. 
 Although surprised at this total change of good feeling towards 
 him, yet having really done nothing justly to excite his sovereign's 
 displeasure, he resolved to obey the n.andate at all hazards, but 
 to take every necessary precaution against his enemies, whether
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 37; 
 
 secret or open. When, however, he reflected upon the unworthy 
 requital he had received for his services, indignation and disgust 
 overbore his first resolution, and he came to the determination of 
 retiring to a castle of which he had some time before been ap- 
 pointed governor; but, to his astonishment, he found that an 
 order had been received at the fortress to deliver it up to a person 
 whom the Sultana had appointed to take immediate possession. 
 This unjustifiable act of tyranny convinced him of what some of 
 his friends at court had already apprised him, that his life was in 
 danger from the secret machinations of his foes ; he determined 
 therefore not to put himself in their power before he had at least 
 made some effort to ascertain the extent of his peril. 
 
 He wrote to the Emperor, expressing surprise at his hostility 
 towards an unoffending subject, and declaring that, though he had 
 the greatest confidence in the honour of his sovereign, he had 
 none in that of his evil counsellors. The only reply which he 
 received to this temperate expostulation was an order, still more 
 peremptory than those already sent, to appear at court without 
 further delay. To refuse was to rebel ; he therefore addressed 
 another letter to his imperial master. In it he said, " I will serve 
 my sovereign with my life against his enemies ; but I will not 
 expose it to the malice of his friends. Assure me of safety, and 
 I will clear myself in your presence." 
 
 This letter was construed by the Sultana, who directed all the 
 Emperor's measures, into an indignity. Jehangire was angry, and 
 despatched a messenger, simimoning Mohabet, in very reproachful 
 terms, to appear before him. The general prepared to obey ; but 
 took the precaution of going with an escort of five thousand 
 Rajpoots in the imperial pay, who had long served under him, and 
 were devoted to their commander. With this guard of faithful 
 soldiers he proceeded towards Lahore, where the sovereign at that 
 time held his court. 
 
 When t/ie Empress heard that Mohabet was advancing with so 
 numerous an escort, she became alarmed. She feared that such 
 a formidable force might cither terrify the Emperor into a recon- 
 ciliation, or place his crown in jeopardy. Either way tliere was
 
 374 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 cause for aijprehension. She persuaded him, therefore, not to 
 admit the refractory general into the camp, for at this time the 
 imperial retinue was on its v,-ay from Lahore to Cabul. When he 
 anived near the royal encampment, a messenger was despatched 
 to inform him that he would not be allowed to enter the presence 
 of his sovereign until he had accounted for the revenues of Bengal, 
 and the plunder taken at the battle of Benares. Provoked at 
 such a demand, the general despatched his son-in-law to complain 
 of the indignity ; but no sooner had the young man entered the 
 Elmperor's presence, than he was stripped, bastinadoed, covered 
 with a ragged robe, placed upon a lean tattoo* with his face 
 towards the tail, and thus sent back to his father-in-law amid the 
 jeers of the whole army. This was an insult not to be forgiven. 
 Mohabet was grieved at the Emperor's weakness, but attributed the 
 scandal of the late scene to the Sultana, to whose intrigues he 
 imputed her royal husband's violent hostility. He saw that to put 
 himself in her power was at once to relinquish his liberty, if not 
 his life ; and he accordingly formed his resolution. It was no less 
 decisive than bold. He resolved immediately to surprise the 
 sovereign and carry him off'. 
 
 The imperial army lay encamped on the banks of a river, across 
 which was a bridge. On the morning after the maltreatment of 
 Mohabet's messenger, they proceeded on their march. Not being 
 in an enemy's country, no precautions were used against surprise, 
 as no danger was apprehended. The army commenced its march 
 early in the morning ; and Jehangire, being in no haste to move, 
 continued in his tent, intending to follow at his convenience. AVhen 
 the imperial troops had crossed the bridge, Mohabet advancing with 
 his Rajpoots, set it on fire, and thus cut off the sovereign's retreat. 
 He then rushed forward to the royal tent. His face was pale, but 
 his whole aspect severe and resolute : there was no mistaking the 
 purpose which was legibly written in every feature. He was 
 followed by his brave Rajpoots. Resistance was vain. The guardf 
 and nobles were instantly disarmed. 
 
 A native pony.
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 37- 
 
 Jehangire had retired to the bath, whither Mohabet follcAved him. 
 The guards attempted to oppose the latter's entrance ; but putting 
 his hand upon his sword, and pointing to his numerous followers, 
 no further opposition was made, and the bold general entered the 
 bathing-tent. The Omrahs present, seeing the folly of resistance, 
 relinquished their arms and became silent spectators of the scene. 
 Mohabet passed them with a stern countenance, which brought to 
 their memories the outrage of the preceding day, but did not 
 utter a word. 
 
 Meanwhile information of what had happened was carried to the 
 inner tent, where the Enperor was, by some of the female attendants. 
 He seized his sword, but was soon brought to a sense of his defence- 
 less position. Perceiving that all his guards and nobles were 
 disarmed, and that Mohabet was accompanied by a band of resolute 
 followers prepared to obey his commands to the very letter, he 
 approached the general, whom his conscience now told him he had 
 treated with signal ingratitude, and said, " What does this mean, 
 Mohabet Chan ?" Mohabet, touching the ground, and then his 
 forehead, thus replied : 
 
 " Forced by the machinations of my enemies, who plot against 
 3ny life, I throw myself under the protection of my sovereign." 
 
 " You are safe," answered the Emperor ; " but what would these 
 who stand armed behind you ?" 
 
 "They demand full security," rejoined Mohabet, "for me and 
 my family ; and without it they will not retire." 
 
 "I understand you," said Jehangire: "name your terms, and 
 they shall be granted. But you do me an injustice, Mohabet : I 
 did not plot against your life ; I knew your services, though I was 
 offended at your seeming disobedience of my commands. Be 
 assured of my protection ; I shall forget the conduct which ne- 
 cessity has imposed upon you." 
 
 Mohabet did not reply, but, ordering a horse, requested the 
 Emperor to mount. They then rode forward, surrounded by 
 Rajpoots. When they had proceeded beyond the skirts of the 
 camp, the imperial captive was respectfully requested to place 
 himself upon an elephant, in order to avoid accident in any cor-
 
 376 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 fusion tnat might ensue from his departure. He readily complied 
 with the general's request, seeing that opposition would be fruit- 
 less, and ascended the elephant, upon which three Rajpoots 
 immediately placed themselves as guards. Some of the nobles, 
 seeing the captivity of their sovereign, advanced to oppose his 
 progress, and were instantly cut down by the followers of Mo- 
 habet. There was no further interruption offered, and Jehangire 
 was taken to Mohabet's tent. Here the latter explained himself to 
 his royal prisoner, assuring him that he had no design either against 
 his life or his power. " But," he continued, sternly, " I am deter- 
 mined to be secure from treachery." 
 
 Mohabet was greatly disappointed that he had not been able to 
 secure the Sultana. During the confusion caused by the entrance 
 of his numerous followers into the imperial tent, she had contrived 
 to escape, and passing the stream upon her elephant, had joined 
 the army, to whom she communicated the disaster of her husband's 
 captivity. 
 
 Mohabet not considering himself secure while the Sultana was at 
 large, determined to leave nothing unattempted to get her into his 
 power. He had now publicly shown his hostility ; the banner of 
 rebellion was raised, and no alternative remained but to pursue his 
 purpose with the same resolute boldness with which he had begun 
 it. He was conscious of the resources of his own genius. He was 
 the idol of the troops which he commanded ; and though aware of 
 the consummate abilities of the Sultana — who in fact directed the 
 movements of the imperial army — and of her brother the Vizier, 
 still he knew they were not popular with the troops, and that, 
 moreover, a great number of the Omrahs were dissatisfied with 
 the influence exercised by her and her family. 
 ' Mohabet having returned with the Emperor to his former camp 
 on the banks of the river, found that Sujait Chan, an Omrah of 
 high reputation, had just arrived to join the imperial army. Finding 
 the camp deserted, and the Emperor a prisoner in the hands of liis 
 rebellious general, Sujait upbraided the latter with treachery in the 
 presence of his Rajpoots. The g<uieral, at once enraged and 
 ip.larme(i, ordered his troops to fall upon the haughty noble, whom
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 377 
 
 they immediately slew, together with his whole retinue. This 
 decisive stroke of severity at once terrified the other nobles, who 
 had been watching for an opportunity of rescuing their sovereign, 
 and they fled across the river, carrying to the imperial army the 
 melancholy intehigence of Suj ait's death. 
 
 This information produced a general gloom. The captivity of 
 the EmiDcror excited the indignation of the Sultana, and of Asiph 
 the Vizier. Noor Jehan summoned the nobles who had just 
 joined the army; and upbraided them with their cowardice in not 
 hazarding their lives in defence of their royal master. A council 
 was promptly summoned, and a consultation held as to the best 
 method to be pursued for rescuing the sovereign out of his enemy's 
 hands. There was no time to be lost : the moment was critical ; 
 delay only diminished the chances of success, as it strengthened 
 the power of the rebel, who was universally popular. It was de- 
 termined to recross the river with the dawn, and attack Mohabet. 
 Jehangire, whom they had contrived to apprise of this intention, 
 began to fear for his life. He instantly sent a messenger to the 
 Vizier to desist ; but that minister not considering himself bound 
 to comply with the commands of a captive monarch, determined 
 to persevere in his intention. 
 
 CHAPTER Vni. 
 
 AT daybreak the Vizier retraced his steps with the army. 
 Upon reaching the bridge, finding that it had been burned 
 down, he instantly came to the determination of fording the river; 
 but the water was very deep, and in this attempt many were 
 drowned. The banks on the opposite side were so steep, that 
 those who gained them had to contend with an enemy under 
 great disadvantage. The enemy, too, were vigilant and active, 
 and cut them off as fast as they quitted the water. Nothing 
 could withstand the headlong valour of the Rajpoots. Not a man 
 escaped ; the moment he gained the bank, he was slain in at-
 
 S78 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 tempting to ascend it. The imperial army, however, was nume- 
 rous, and the rea; pressing upon the front, many at length 
 made good their footing; but it was to encounter foes whose 
 principle of warfare was to vanquish or to die. The action con- 
 tinued for several hours, and the slaughter of the imperial forces 
 was prodigious. The Vizier did all in his power to encourage the 
 troops, to no purpose — they were dispirited \ but still, trusting to 
 their numbers, they continued the struggle under the greatest 
 disadvantages. 
 
 Noor Jehan witnessed the whole scene from the river-bank, and 
 her alarm was excessive at beholding the slaughter of the royal 
 forces. Her resolute spirit was roused, and her determination 
 instantly taken. Mounted upon an elephant, — on which was 
 likewise her daughter, a beautiful maiden, in the prime and fresh- 
 ness of youth — armed with a bow and arrows, she plunged fear- 
 lessly into the stream. The Empress was followed by several 
 nobles, who, ashamed at beholding the resolution of a woman, 
 followed her into the river, and made for the further side. 
 Urging her elephant to the middle of the channel, she waved a 
 scarf to encourage the Vizier's troops. Undaunted at the carnage 
 before her, she stood in the howdah, and discharged her arrows 
 with fatal aim at the foe. Three Mahoots were successively 
 killed ; yet she maintained her position, and having exhausted her 
 quiver, demanded another to be brought. Her elephant waf 
 three times wounded, and her situation became extremely danger 
 ous from the violent plunges of the animal under the excitement 
 of suffering. Still she continued to discharge her an-ov/s with 
 fearless determination. Her daughter was at length wounded in 
 the arm, which only stimulated the heroic mother to greater 
 exertions. She urged her elephant forward to the bank, soon 
 exhausted another quiver of arrows, and called for a fresh supply. 
 The sight of her heroism gave an impulse to the wavering courage 
 of her brother's troops, and many effected their landing. 
 
 The battle now became sanguinary in the extreme ; but the 
 .imperialists gained no ground. In spite of the Sultana's presence, 
 they could not overcome the determined resistance of the
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 370 
 
 Rajpoots; nevertheless, they fought with a bravery worthy of 
 better success. Noor Jehan, having urged her elephant close to 
 the bank, a Rajpoot gave it a severe wound with his sword, just 
 at the root of the trunk. With a shrill cry the huge animal fell ; 
 but whilst it was in the act of falling, the Sultana had placed an 
 arrow in the string of her bow, and fixed it in the brain of her 
 foe, who rolled dead upon the plain. When the elephant fell, 
 both mother and daughter were thrown into the stream, and, as 
 the current was rapid, their lives were in jeopardy; but the 
 Empress, seizing her bow with her teeth, swam towards some 
 Omrahs, who were crossing to second her heroic exertions. Her 
 daughter was delivered from peril by the enemy and made pri- 
 soner. Meanwhile, the mother breasted the current, and with 
 difficulty reached an elephant, upon which a noble was seated, 
 who rescued her from the river. Whilst she was in the water, 
 a ball from a matchlock struck her in the side ; but it passed 
 round by the rib, and thus did not enter her body. 
 
 Undismayed by the danger she had just escaped, the Empress 
 continued to discharge her arrows at the enemy, doing considerable 
 execution with her single arm. Mohabet was the chief object of 
 her aim ; but he was too far from the bank to enable her to accom- 
 plish her fatal purpose. Her danger was becoming every moment 
 more imminent ; she nevertheless urged her elephant forward, 
 reckless of personal consequences. She had already exhausted 
 three quivers of arrows, when a fourth was brought to her. At thf 
 first discharge she struck a soldier in the body, who instantly tore 
 out the shaft from his flesh, and with a fierce resolution of revenge 
 leaped into the stream. He held his sword above the water with 
 one hand, and dashed with the other towards the Sultana's elephant. 
 Already was his arm raised to strike ; but before he could accom- 
 plish his purpose, another arrow from the heroine's bow was buried 
 in his breast, and he sank beneath the whirling eddies. 
 
 A number of Rajpoots now rushed into the river to seize the 
 Sultana. They soon surrounded her ; but she plied her bow so 
 vigorously, that several of them were wounded. They were, how. 
 ever, about to make good their capture — the glory of the Moguls
 
 38o THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 was in jeopardy. A Rajpoot had ascended the back of her ele- 
 phant, and commenced a fierce struggle with the Omrah who 
 accompanied his mistress. At this moment, the huge animal 
 having received a severe wound behind, sprang suddenly forward, 
 making its way through the soldiers by whom it had been sur- 
 rounded, and scrambled up the bank. It was immediately 
 despatched. As it fell, Noor Jehan leaped from the howdah, and 
 with a voice of stern command summoned some of the imperial 
 troops, who were engaged in a desperate conflict with the enemy, 
 to her rescue. They obeyed a voice which they had long been 
 taught to consider as that of their sovereign. She was soon sur- 
 rounded by friends and foes. Seizing a sword, she fought with a 
 heroism that astonished even the Rajpoots, with whom valour is a 
 heritage. A deep sabre-cut in the shoulder seemed only to add 
 a stimulus to her resolution. The man who had inflicted the 
 wound received from her arm a signal retribution : she dashed her 
 sword into his skull, and he was instantly prostrated among the 
 dead. 
 
 The battle now raged with prodigious fury; but the imperialists 
 were fast giving way. At length the Sultana was left fighting with 
 unabated energy, supported by only a few soldiers. The moment 
 was critical. Two Rajpoots advanced to seize her; she saw there 
 was not an instant to be lost, and rushing to the river's bank, 
 turned her head upon her foes with a haughty expression of de- 
 fiance, and leaped undauntedly into the torrent. The two soldiers 
 followed, resolved to make her their prisoner or die in the attempt. 
 In spite of her wound, with a resolution which nothing could 
 subdue, she bore up against the rapid current ; but, notwithstand- 
 ing all her exertions, was carried by its force down the stream. As 
 the soldiers were more encumbered, the body of each being pro- 
 tected by a thick quilted tunic, the royal fugitive gained consider- 
 ably upon them. That portion of the imperial army which had 
 not yet crossed the river, watched her with intense anxiety. She 
 rose buoyantly above the waters, and after great exertions, landed 
 upon the opposite bank. Her pursuers were by this time close 
 upon her. Determined not to be made a prisoner, she prepared 
 for a desperate resistance.
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 381 
 
 . One of the Rajpoots being before the other, first gained the 
 shore. The bank was steep : just as he reached the brink, his 
 foot shpped, and he partially fell, but clung to the roots of some 
 wild shrubs that protruded from the earth. The opportunity was 
 not to be lost : Noor Jehan drew a dagger from her girdle, and as 
 the soldier was struggling to regain his footing, struck him with 
 all her force upon the temple — his body being protected by the 
 quilted tunic, his face was the only part that she could success- 
 fully strike. The blow was dealt with fatal aim ; it divided the 
 temporal artery, and the man fell back into the water, deluged in 
 his blood. His companion, who had been carried farther down 
 the stream, gained the bank during this fatal struggle. Overcome 
 by the extraordinary heroism of the Sultana, he approached her 
 with a profound salaam, and said, " Lady, your heroic bearing 
 deserves a better meed than captivity. You are now within my 
 power ; but, astonished at the matchless valour you have displayed, 
 I cannot persuade myself to make you prisoner. Promise me a 
 safe conduct back to the army to which I belong, and you are 
 free ; refuse me, and I will plunge immediately with you into the 
 stream, where we will both perish together." 
 
 " Soldier," replied the Sultana with composed dignity, " I accept 
 your terms. I promise you a safe conduct to your friends. Your 
 behaviour is noble, and claims my esteem : what boon can I offer 
 you ?" 
 
 "A Rajpoot never accepts a boon from a foe. Besides, I have 
 no claim upon your generosity. I do not spare you because you 
 are Empress of the Moguls, but because I admire the valour which 
 you have exhibited as a woman. With women it is a rare quality, 
 and deserves its reward. I should have felt the same towards a 
 Pariah who had displayed as much." 
 
 Noor Jehan was received by her friends with shouts of joy ; and 
 (the soldier who accompanied her was conducted to a ford some 
 .distance up the river, where he passed over to the army of 
 Mohabet. 
 
 Seeing their Empress safe, two Omrahs, with then- followers, 
 crossed the stream and joined the imperialists, who were now 
 jiving way on all sides. Encouraged by this fresh accession of
 
 o 
 
 8a THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 f jrce, the retreating party again rallied, and the contest was main 
 tained with renewed vigour. The Rajpoots were in their turn 
 repulsed. They retreated towards the tent in which the Emperor 
 was confined. Several arrows and balls piercing through the 
 canvas and exposing Jehangire's life to great danger, he was 
 covered with a shield by an officer of the guard. Meanwhile, 
 Mohabet rallied his troops behind the tents and turned them 
 upon the flank of the imperialists, who, dispirited by this fresh 
 assault, gave way, and a general rout followed. Mohabet, after a 
 hard contest, remained master of the field, which was literally 
 covered with the slain. 
 
 The Vizier, seeing that all was lost, fled from the scene of 
 carnage, and reaching the castle of New Rhotas, shut himself up 
 there with five hundred men. The castle was strong, but offered 
 a retreat of very equivocal security against an army flushed with 
 recent conquest, and commanded by the greatest general of his 
 time. Noor Jehan escaped to Lahore ; yet her safety v;as any- 
 thing but certain, being without troops, and all the bravest Omrahs 
 of the imperial army either slain or in captivity. Nevertheless she 
 bore her reverse with that indomitable resolution so natural to her 
 lofty and energetic spirit. 
 
 Mohabet despatched a messenger to the Vizier with assurances 
 of safety ; but the latter declined putting himself in the power of a 
 successful rebel ; upon which the incensed general sent his son with 
 a strong detachment to invest the fort of Rhotas. He almost 
 immediately joined this officer with his whole army, and after a 
 feeble resistance the Vizier surrendered at discretion. He was, 
 however, treated with great urbanity and kindness by the con- 
 queror, which not only conciliated his good opinion, but won his 
 friendship. 
 
 Meanwhile the Emperor forwarded a letter to his royal consort, 
 begging her to join him, speaking in high terms of the respectful 
 treatment he received from Mohabet, and giving her assurances of 
 a kind reception ; urging her at the same time to forget past causes 
 of animosity, and lay aside all thoughts of further hostilities, that 
 the empire might not be involved in the horrors of a civil war.
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 383 
 
 He besought her to follow him to Cabul, whither he was then 
 proceeding ; declaring that there was no restraint put upon his 
 actions, but that he was allowed to direct his march wherever he 
 thought proper. 
 
 Noor Jehan, seeing at a glance the desperate condition of things, 
 determined to comply at once with the Emperor's commands, being 
 satisfied that there was more danger in resistance. She therefore 
 came to the resolution of choosing the least of two evils, and, 
 setting out from Lahore, joined her captive husband on his march 
 towards Cabul. Mohabet sent a strong detachment to meet and 
 pay her the honours due to her rank ; but she was not to be deceived 
 by so flimsy an artifice. It was evident to her that she was sur^ 
 rounded by her future guards ; nevertheless she affected to receive 
 the ostensible compliment, and met the Emperor with a cheerful 
 countenance. 
 
 She was immediately subjected to a rigorous confinement. Her 
 tent was surrounded by troops, and she was not permitted to stir 
 abroad, Mohabet accused her of treason against the state, and 
 insisted that so dangerous a criminal should be instantly put to 
 death. "You who are Emperor of the Moguls," said he to 
 Jehangire, "and whom we look upon as something more than 
 human, ought to follow the example of God, who has no respect 
 for persons." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MOHABET, feeling that his future safety depended upon 
 the death of Noor Jehan, had sent a soldier to despatch 
 her. The niinister of destruction entered her tent after midnight, 
 when she was plunged in profound repose. Her beautiful limbs 
 were stretched upon a Persian carpet, the rich colours of which 
 glowed in the light of a lamp that burned upon a silver frame 
 near her bed. Htr fine features were relaxed into that placid ex- 
 pression which sleep casts over the countenance when no dis-
 
 384 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 quieting dreams disturb and excite it into muscular activity. The 
 slow and measured breath came from her lovely bosom like 
 incense frcm a sacred censer. Her right arm, naked to the 
 shoulder, and on which the scar of the wound she had lately 
 received appeared still red and tender, was thrown across her 
 bosom, showing an exquisite roundness of surface and delicacy 
 of outline that fixed the attention of the rugged soldier, who 
 hesitated to remove so beautiful a barrier to that bosom which his 
 dagger was commissioned to reach. He stood over his victim in 
 mute astonishment. He was entranced by her beauty. ' The 
 recollection of her undaunted heroism disarmed his purpose, and 
 he dropped the weapon of death. Noor Jehan was roused by the 
 noise ; — she started from her slumber. Seeing a man in the tent, 
 she sprang from her couch, and, eyeing him with calm disdain, 
 said, 
 
 " I apprehend your purpose ; you are a murderer ; — Noor Jehan 
 is not unprepared to die even by the assassin's dagger. Strike !" 
 she said sternly, and bared her bosom. 
 
 The man was overcome ; he prostrated himself before her, 
 pointed to the fallen weapon, and besought her to forgive the evil 
 purpose with which he had entered her tent : 
 
 " I am but an humble instrument of another's will." 
 
 " Go," replied the Sultana with dignity, " and tell your employer 
 that your mistress and his knows how to meet death when it 
 comes, but claims from him the justice awarded to the meanest 
 criminal. The secret dagger is the instrument of tyranny, not of 
 justice. I am in his power; but let him exercise that power as 
 becomes a brave and a good man." 
 
 Mohabet was not surprised, though greatly mortified, when he 
 found that his purpose had been thus defeated. He therefore 
 sought the Emperor, and insisted that he should immediately sign 
 a warrant for the death of his Sultana. Jehangire knew too well 
 the justice of the demand, the wrongs which she had heaped upon 
 the man who made it, and his own incapability of resistance, to 
 disobey. Not having seen the Empress for some time, he had in 
 a degree forgotten the influence of her charms ; and prepared,
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 383 
 
 though with reluctance, to comply with the sanguinary requisition. 
 When the awful announcement was made to the Sultana, she did 
 not exhibit the slightest emotion. " Imprisoned sovereigns," she 
 said, " lose their right of life with their freedom ; but permit me 
 once more to see the Emperor, and to bathe with my tears the 
 handthct has fixed the seal to the warrant of my death." She was 
 well aware of the influence she still possessed over the uxorious 
 Emperor ; and, her request being complied with, she attired her- 
 self in a plain white dress, with the simplest drapery, which 
 showed her still lovely figure to the greatest advantage, and was 
 thus brought before Jehangire in the presence of Mohabet. There 
 was an expression of subdued sorrow upon her countenance, which 
 seemed only to enhance the lustre of her beauty. She advanced 
 with a stately step, but did not utter a word ; and, bending before 
 her royal husband, took his hand and pressed it to her bosom with 
 a silent but solemn appeal. Jehangire was deeply moved. He 
 burst into tears, and raising the object of his long and ardent 
 attachment, turned to Mohabet, and said in a tone of tremulous 
 earnestness, "Will you not spare this woman?" Mohabet, 
 subdued by the scene, and feeling for his sovereign's distress, 
 replied, 
 
 " The Emperor of the Moguls should never ask in vain." 
 Waving his hand to the guards, they instantly retired, and the 
 Sultana was restored to liberty. She, however, never forgot the 
 wrong, and determined to avenge it. She manifested no signs of 
 hostility, but always met the general with a cheerful countenance 
 and a courteous air, by which she completely lulled his suspicions. 
 Secure in the general estimation of the troops, and especially of 
 his faithful Rajpoots, he felt no fears for his ov/n personal safety; and 
 having completely won the good opinion of Jehangire by his late 
 act of generous forbearance towards Noor Jehan, he had little 
 apprehension from the intrigues of the latter, however she might 
 choose to employ them. He, however, knew not the person of 
 whom he judged so lightly. Her aims were not to be defeated 
 but by the loss of Hberty. She never lost siglit of her purpose 
 save in its accomplishment. Notliing could reconcile her to tlic 
 INDIA. c c
 
 386 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 degradation which she had been lately made to endure. Her 
 daughter indeed had been restored to her ; but she likewise had 
 been deprived of freedom, and treated with the indignity of a 
 prisoner. The wound of the latter, which was slight, had soon 
 healed ; yet the mother felt that she had received a double ^vrong 
 in the captivity of herself and child. She employed her time in 
 devising schemes of vengeance ; but for six months she plotted so 
 secretly, that not the least suspicion was excited in the mind of 
 Mohabet. Jehangire treated him with the open confidence of 
 friendship, and the Sultana appeared to meet him at all times with 
 amicable cordiality. This, however, was only the treacherous calm 
 which often heralds a tempest. 
 
 One morning, when the general, accompanied by a considerable 
 retinue, went to pay his customary respects to the Emperor, he 
 was attacked at the same moment from both ends of a narrow 
 street. He was fired at from the windows of several houses. 
 Great confusion ensued; but Mohabet's followers being well 
 armed, he put himself at their head and cut his way through the 
 assailants. His escape was a miracle ; the whole of his retinue 
 were either wounded or slain, yet he was unhurt. The plot had 
 been so well concerted, that not a single creature was prepared for 
 it but those persons to whom it had been communicated. The 
 spirit of disaffection soon spread. The guards who surrounded 
 the Emperor were attacked by the citizens; and all, to the 
 number of five hundred, put to the sword. The whole city of 
 Cabul was in an uproar ; and had not Mohabet fled to his camp, 
 which was pitched without the walls, he would have fallen a 
 sacrifice to their fury. Enraged at their perfidy, he prepared to 
 take a speedy and ample revenge. The Sultana, perceiving the 
 failure of her scheme, was aware that she was in a situation of 
 extreme peril. The citizens, terrified at the preparations which 
 the incensed general was making to punish their perfidy, sent 
 some of the principal inhabitants to him, supplicating his forbear- 
 ance ; declaring that the tumult originated with the rabble, and 
 offering to give up the ringleaders to his just indignation. Al- 
 though INIohabet suspected that Noor Jehan had been the principal
 
 fHE LIGHT OF THE WORLlj'. 387 
 
 instrument of the attack upon his life and the massacre of his 
 guards, he dissembled his resentment, and accepted the offers of 
 submission, but made a vow never again to enter Cabul. Having 
 punished the ringleaders, he quitted the neighbourhood on the 
 following morning, taking the Emperor with him. 
 
 Cn their way to Lahore, Mohabet suddenly resolved to resign 
 his power, and to place Jehangire again at liberty. The resolution 
 was as inexplicable as it was sudden and unexpected. He had 
 no wish for empire. Having punished his enemies and vindicated 
 his own wrongs, he exacted from Jehangire oblivion of the past ; 
 then disbanding his army, and retaining only a small retinue, he 
 left his sovereign to his entire freedom. Noor Jehan, not in the 
 least moved by this act of generosity on the part of a man Avhom 
 her own intrigues had forced into rebellion, resolved now to seize 
 the opportunity of consummating her revenge. She could not 
 forget the indignities she had endured at the hand of Mohabet ; 
 that he had once attempted her life, obliged the Emperor to sign 
 her death-warrant, and held her in odious captivity. She 
 demanded that her royal consort should immediately order his 
 execution. 
 
 "A man," said she, "so daring as to seize the person of his 
 sovereign is a dangerous subject. The lustre of royalty must be 
 diminished in the eyes of the people, while he who has dragged 
 his prince from the throne is permitted to kneel before it with 
 feigned allegiance." 
 
 Jehangire, remembering the provocations which Mohabet had 
 received, and his temperate use of power, was shocked at the 
 Sultana's vindictiveness, and commanded her, in a severe tone, to 
 be silent. 
 
 Although she made no reply, she did not relinquish her design. 
 Shortly afterwards, an attempt being made upon the general's life, 
 he found it necessary to quit the camp secretly. The emissaries 
 of the Empress were sent to capture him, but he effected his 
 escape. He who had so lately had a victorious army at his 
 command was now a fugitive, without a follower, and obliged to 
 fly for his life. He had left all his wealth behind him, which was 
 
 c c 3
 
 S88 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 
 
 seized by the implacable Noor Jelian ; and she issued a proclamr.- 
 tion through all the provinces of the empire, denouncing him as a 
 rebel, commanded him to be seized, and set a price upon his 
 head. This violence on the part of the Sultana was disapproved 
 both by the Emperor and the Vizier, the latter of whom did not 
 forget the courtesy shown to him by the fugitive after the defeat 
 of the imperial army, when he was made prisoner by that very 
 man who was now pursued with such hostility by a vindictive 
 enemy who owed to him her life and liberty. 
 
 Asiph, Noor Jehan's brother, was not insensible to the merit of 
 Mohabet. He knew him to be the best general of his time, an 
 ardent lover of his country, and that he had been forced into 
 rebellion by acts of repeated and unjustifiable aggression. He 
 felt assured that such was not a man to be cast off from the state 
 without doing it an injury that could never be repaired. Besides, 
 he feared the lengths to which the Sultana's ambition might carry 
 her, and considered it was high time it should be checked. 
 Although Mohabet was a wanderer and a refugee under the 
 denouncement of death, he bore up against his reverses with the 
 same magnanimity which had actuated him when at the summit 
 of his power. 
 
 The Vizier having found means to assure him of his friendship, 
 Mohabet mounted his horse and rode four hundred miles without 
 a single follower, to meet and confer with that high functionary ; 
 trusting to his bare and secret promise of protection. The 
 minister was at that time encamped in the road between Lahore 
 and Delhi. Mohabet entered the camp in a mean habit, late in 
 the evening. Placing himself in the passage which led from the 
 apartments of the Vizier to the harem, and telling the eunuch 
 that he wished to see that minister, the fugitive was immediately 
 led into the latter's presence. When Asiph saw the wretched 
 condition of Mohabet, he fell upon his neck and wept. Retiring 
 with him to a secret apartment, the general declared his deter- 
 mination, notwithstanding the low ebb of his fortunes, to raise 
 Shah Jehan to the imperial throne. Asiph was overjoyed at this
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. 389 
 
 declaration, as that prince was allied to him by the double tie 
 of friendship and family connexion. 
 
 The result of this conference was a general declaration, in 
 favour of Jehangire's third son, who had already twice rebelled ; 
 but the Emperor dying a few months after, the state was freed 
 from the probable effects of a civil war, and Prince Churmm 
 ascended the imperial throne, under the title of Shah Jehan. 
 From that moment the Sultana retired from the world, devoting 
 the rest of her days to study, and the quiet enjoyments of 
 domestic life. As her power ceased with the death of Jehangire, 
 her haughty spirit could not brook the public mortification of 
 seeing herself holding a secondary rank in the empire. She never 
 henceforward spoke upon state affairs, or allowed the subject to 
 be mentioned in her presence. The singular beauty of her person 
 continued almost to the last moment of her life ; nor was the 
 structure of her mind less remarkable. She was a woman of 
 transcendent abilities ; she rendered herself absolute in a govern- 
 ment in which women were held to be both incapable and un- 
 worthy of holding the slightest share. It was not merely by 
 the permissive weakness of Jehangire that she acquired such a 
 political dominancy in the state ; but by the pre-eminent supe- 
 riority of her own mental endowments, and the indomitable 
 energy of her character, before which the inferior mind and 
 spirit of her royal husband shrank into comparative insignificance. 
 She had as well the resolution to achieve as the intellects to 
 project, and kept a mighty nation in awe by the extreme vigour 
 of her administration. Though her passions were violent, her 
 chastity wa^ never impeached, and she lived an eminent pattern 
 01 ^onjugal fidelity. To her, the world are indebted for that 
 delicious perfume so well-known by the name of atar of 
 loses, which she discovered during her retirement from public 
 life. She died in the city of I/ahore eighteen years after the death 
 of Jehangire,
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 A.D. 1628. — In the year of the Hegira 1037, Shah Jehan ascended the Inv 
 perial throne of the Moguls. The Rajah of Bundelcund was taken prisoner by 
 Mohabet, who was shortly afterwards removed from the head of the army. The 
 Usbeck Tartars made a successful irruption into the imperial dominions, laid 
 siege to the fort of Bamia in the mountains of Cabul, and made themselves 
 masters of it. 
 
 Heg. 103S (1629). — Chan Jehan Lody escaped from Agra. Having opposed 
 the accession of the reigning Emperor, he had been publicly disgraced. He 
 was pursued and overtaken ; but his retreat was secured by the gallantly of his 
 son, Azmut, who engaged the imperial army, and thus enabled his father to 
 get beyond the reach of his enemies. The noble Azmut, however, fell a sacri- 
 tice to his filial intrepidity ; he was slain gallantly fighting against a host of 
 foes. Lody having effected his escape, found an asylum at the court of the 
 Nizam at Dowlatabad. This year died Shah Abbas, Sovereign of Persia. 
 
 Heg. 1040 (1631). — Shah Jehan sent a large army into the Deccan to oppose 
 Chan Lody, who had induced the princes of that extensive district to take up 
 arms against the house of Timur. For a while Lody was successful against the 
 imperial general, Eradit, M'hom he prevented from penetrating into Golconda, 
 by throwing himself into the passes of the mountains before his march, and 
 thus repelling his advance. He was finally obliged to retreat ; and being 
 attacked by Lody, was defeated with great slaughter. Six Omrahs of the im- 
 perial army were slain. After this defeat, Eradit was superseded, and the 
 Vizier appointed to command the army. This struck the confederates with 
 dismay, and they abandoned their brave friend. The Isizam proposed temis ; 
 and Lody, being at length left without support, was pursued by a detachment 
 of the Vizier's forces, and slain, with thirty followers only, who had resolved to 
 participate in his fallen fortunes. During this year Shah Jehan's favourite 
 Sultana died in childbed. She was the daughter of Asiph Jah, the Vizier, and 
 niece of th,e celebrated Noor Jehan. The magnificent Taje Mahal was raised at 
 Agra as a tribute of respect for her memory. 
 
 Heg. 1044 (1633). — Prince Dara, the Emperor's eldest son, married the 
 aughter of his uncle Purvez. About the same time, Suja, the second son, 
 espoused the daughter of Rustum Suffavi, of the royal line of Persia.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 391 
 
 Heg. 1044 (1634). — Mohabet died. He was the greatest general of his 
 time. 
 
 Heg 1045 (1635). — A new throne of solid gold was erected at Agra. It 
 was seven years in finishing, and the value of the jewels alone amounted to 
 twelve hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. Among the ornaments was 
 a pa-rot, the size of life, cut out of a single emerald. 
 
 Heg. 1046 {1636). — The Emperor again sent an army into the Deccan, 
 reduced the refractory Rajahs to obedience, and concluded a peace witl) 
 Persia. 
 
 Heg. 1049 (1639). — The capital of Bengal was destroyed by fire. 
 
 Heg. 1051 (1641). — Asiph Jah, the Vizier, died, in the seventy-second year 
 of his age. 
 
 Heg. 1052 {1642). — Shah Jehan removed his court from Lahore to Agra, 
 aTid completed the Taje Mahal, a splendid mausoleum, raised at vast expense, 
 to the memory of his favourite Sultana, Mumtaza Zemani, niece to Noorjelian. 
 
 Heg. 1053 (1643). — The Usbeck Tartars, who had made incursions into the 
 Emperor's teiTitories, were defeated by Ali Murdan, governor of Cabul. 
 
 Heg. 1054 (1644). — Aurungzebe was removed from the govermnent of the 
 Deccan, 
 
 Heg. 1055 (1645). — The Sultana, Noor Jehan, died at Lahore. 
 
 Heg. 1056 (1646). — By an imperial edict Prince Morad was banished to the 
 mountains of Peshawir. 
 
 Heg. 1057 (1647). — Aurungzebe defeated the Usbecks, and took their camp. 
 
 Heg. 1058 (1648). — The repairs of Delhi were finished, and the Emperor 
 mounted the throne of his ancestors in this city, which afterwards became the 
 capital of the Mogul empire. 
 
 Heg. 1059 (1649).— Aunmgzebe defeated the Persians, who had become 
 masters of Candahar. 
 
 Heg. 1062 (1652). — Dara was appointed successor to the empire, under the 
 title of Shah Belmd Akbal — the Emperor of exaUed fortune. 
 
 Heg. 1066 (1656). — Mahomnipd, the son of Aurungzebe, took Hyderabad, 
 and defeated the King of Gokoiid.'). 
 
 Heg. 1067 (1657). — Shah Jehan was seized with a paralysis, and his life 
 despaired of : the management of public affairs consequently fell into the hands 
 of Dara. 
 
 Heg. 1068 (1658). — Aurung^^ebe, secretly aspiring to the throne, inducedhis 
 brother Morad to join him, and defeated the imperial army, under the command 
 jf Dara, who retired to Delhi. Having raised fresh forces, they were con-upted 
 by the wily conqueror. The confederate princes appeared before the capital 
 with the combined army. Aunmgzebe sent a message to his father, who com- 
 oiissioned his daughter, Jclianara, to visit him : she was deceived by his dupli- 
 city, and incautiously betrayed to him the resources of her brother Dara. He
 
 392 
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARV. 
 
 Intercepted his father's letter to that prince; and shortly sRer Mahommea 
 Aarjngzebe's son, seized within the citadel at Agra, Shah Jehan, who offered 
 him the crown of the Moguls as the price of his release. It was declined by 
 Mahommed. Morad having discovered the duplicity of Aurungzebe, in at« 
 <!empting to defeat it was seized by his crafty brother, and sent prisoner to 
 Agra. The ambitious conqueror advanced to Delhi, and mounted the imperial 
 throne. Dara fled to Lahore.
 
 CIj^ %}xma mxti i\it gixkm* 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON the crest of a lofty hill in the province of D(;lhi, towards 
 the north, was a fortress of impregnable strength, which 
 had been frequently converted by the Mogvil emperors into a 
 state prison. The hill was inaccessible on all sides, presenting, 
 to a height of two hundred and thirty feet from the base, sheer 
 walls of rocks, upon the scarped summit of which a light parapet 
 surrounded one of the most extraordinary fortresses ever con- 
 structed by the art of man. Within the parapet it consisted of a 
 shaft, sixty feet deep, sunk into the living stone. At the bottom 
 of this shaft, chambers of considerable dimensions had been hol- 
 lowed out, lighted by narrow loopholes, perforated through the 
 mountain to the light, of which they admitted just sufficient to 
 render ''darkness visible," and cast a sepulchral gloom through the 
 apartments of this cavernous retreat. 
 
 The entrance of this stronghold was a circular aperture at the 
 top of the rock, like the mouth of a well, four feet in diameter; 
 tlirough which the garrison, captives, provisions, and all things in 
 vliort necessary to be deposited below, were lowered by means of a 
 rope attached to a windlass. 
 
 In one of the chambers of this mountain fortress a prisoner was 
 confined whose youth and accomplishments appeared to deserve 
 a better fate. He was in the beautiful dawning of his manhood, 
 when the blood bounds from the heart with a pulse of joy, and 
 flows back again with an untroubled current. He had just passed 
 his nineteenth yea?. The breeze of the mountain had fanned hi.=
 
 394 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKE EH. 
 
 cheek, and spread over it the glow of pure but delicate health. 
 The down upon his upper lip had strengthened into a sleek dark 
 curl. His limbs were rounded to their full proportions ; and his 
 whole form was one of a symmetry better adapted for the rich 
 woofs from the looms of Cashmere than for the helmet or cuirass. 
 The languid expression of his dark, restless eye, showed that he 
 was unhappy. The only furniture in his prison was a rug upon 
 which he slept, a hookah, a lamp, and a few utensils employed at 
 his meals. 
 
 Notwithstanding the severity of his captivity, the prisoner kept 
 up a sort of state in his solitary cell : he treated those attendants 
 fvho had been appointed to wait upon him with a dignity which 
 commanded respect, and at the same time with an amenity which 
 won obedience. His dress, though of ordinary materials, except 
 that portion of it which covered his brows, was disposed with a 
 taste which at once bespoke refinement of mind and a conscious- 
 ness of personal elevation. His turban, composed of a fine, thin 
 white muslin, worked in gold, was folded round his head with a 
 care that evidently showed an attention to what was becoming ; its 
 numerous convolutions being precisely defined, and managed with 
 almost geometrical precision. A common Cashmere shawl, loosely 
 twisted, encircled his waist, the ends hanging on one side with 
 that peculiar air of elegance which Orientals, whether Mussulman 
 or Hindoo, know so well how to exhibit. 
 
 The prisoner had just thrown himself upon his rug to take his 
 rest for the night, when an unusual stir upon the ramparts above 
 roused him. He rose to listen. A parley was evidently going on 
 with some one beneath the fortress. He repaired to a small ante- 
 chamber, in which was a loophole that looked into a deep glen, 
 whence the mountain rose within the bosom of which the place of 
 his painful captivity had been hoDowed. The night was calm : 
 not a breeze stirred the thick foliage of the valley. The heavens 
 were starred and radiant, though the moon's lamp was not yet 
 hung out upon the battlements of heaven. The faint beams of 
 the stars, though they scattered the radiance of their glories over 
 the whole azure surface of the ?kies, did not penetrate the depths
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 39S 
 
 ■>f the ravine formed by the mountain, down the sides of which 
 the prisoner strained his eye from one of the narrow apertures 
 that admitted hght and air into his prison. The whole valley was 
 immersed in that equivocal gloom, the more perceptible from con- 
 trast with the sparkling heaven, that seemed to smile in its beauty 
 at the dull and torpid earth. 
 
 The captive, placing his ear against the artificial fissure in the 
 rock, heard the following dialogue : 
 
 " I am the Prophet's messenger," said a voice below. " I have 
 a commission to the prisoner : refuse me admittance, and the curse 
 of God's vicegerent be upon you !'^ 
 
 " If the Prophet's curse is breathed from the lips of one of his 
 holy messengers, say who that messenger is." 
 
 "The fakeer of the valley, over whose reverend head ninety-six 
 years have rolled ; whose fasts amd penances have gained him one 
 of the high stations in Paradise, to which he will be exalted when 
 the angel of death shall waft him from the shores of time to that 
 unknown land where the harvest of eternal joys shall be reaped." 
 
 " I know that voice, and shall heed the injunctions of so holy a 
 man ; but you must ascend alone : and I have no choice but to 
 obey the orders imposed upon me, which are, to examine the 
 person of every one admitted into this fortress. If it were the 
 Propliet himself, I should be obliged to subject him to the 
 scrutiny." 
 
 " Examine me as you will, but let me see your prisoner. I 
 come a messenger to him from God's Prophet, and must per- 
 form my mission. Obedience is man's heritage ; resist the divine 
 will at your peril. Lower the rope, that I may ascend." 
 
 The prisoner was amazed at this announcement of a visitor — 
 an accredited minister of the Prophet too ; but, upon reflection, 
 he thought it might be the friendly interposition of some one who 
 wished to break his bonds, and release him from a captivity as 
 odious as it was undeserved. 
 
 The reverence formerly entertained for some of the fakeers was 
 sufficient to prevent any surprise at the readiness with which the 
 soldier upon guard consented to admit him into the fortress. The
 
 396 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER, 
 
 man who demanded admittance was well known to all the country 
 as a troglodyte saint, inhabiting a cavern hollowed out of the earth in 
 the valley immediately beneath the fortress, and whose severe morti* 
 fications had elevated him to such a degree of sanctity as to render 
 his intercession with the Divinity a sure pledge of pardon. He was 
 held to have immediate communion with Heaven ; no one, there- 
 fore, venturevi to gainsay anything insisted upon by this holy man. 
 He always bore about him the sacred filth of his long penance ; 
 and the very odours from his body, which was foul with the 
 unwashed incrustations of years, were supposed to be redolent 
 of that paradise where, as he maintained, a place was reserved for 
 him at the right hand of Allah's inspired minister. 
 
 Shortly after the dialogue just mentioned, the door of our 
 captive's chamber was unclosed, and the fakeer stood before him, 
 accompanied by one of the garrison. The holy man was quite 
 naked, so that nothing could be concealed about him. Although 
 the skin hung loose upon his long narrow countenance, like 
 shrivelled parchment drawn over the bones of a skeleton, never- 
 theless there gleamed from underneath his sharp projecting brows 
 a pair of eyes which appeared as if they had concentrated the 
 rays of the midday sun, lancing them at intervals from orbs that 
 seemed to glare with the intense lustre of those potential fires 
 which light the throne of Eblis. He was perfectly straight ; but 
 his head had sunk upon the shoulders, whore it seemed to rest, 
 giving to the upper part of his figure an aspect of hideous de- 
 formity. His arms were long, fleshless, and so stiff that he could 
 not bring the joints even to a curve. He was a living skeleton. 
 
 The prisoner gazed upon him in silence, but did not utter a 
 word. The fakeer stood still for a moment; then opening wide 
 his gaunt, bony jaws, which displayed a black toothless chasm, 
 and giving a sudden jerk of the head, a ring dropped from his 
 mouth upon the floor. He now shook from his long bushy hair 
 a single blossom of the rhododendron, and a small bit of panel, 
 upon which was rudely scratched the form of a dove escapmg 
 from the talons of a hawk. They both fell beside the ring. 
 Pointing emphatically to the three several objects he quitted the
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 397 
 
 cell, and immediately gave the signal to be drawn up. The 
 ooldier who had accompanied him remained behind, gathered up 
 the thmgs which the holy visitor had cast upon the floor, showed 
 them severally to the prisoner, though he held them at a distance, 
 and asked him what was the communication intended to be 
 conveyed ? 
 
 " I am not read in the lore of sages," replied the youth ; 
 "neither do I understand the mysteries of vaticination. You 
 would probably make a better interpreter." 
 
 " I fear this will only increase the rigours of your confinement, 
 unless you can explain why the holy man of the valley has made 
 you this strange visit." 
 
 " In truth, I know not. I never saw him until this night ; and 
 how should I be able to expound what you, who are familiar with 
 the stranger, cannot comprehend ?" 
 
 " He would not have visited you without a n^otive." 
 " But I may be unacquainted with that motive." 
 " He is not a man to act without calculating results." 
 " Nevertheless his calculations may prove erroneous." 
 " Then you do not understand the nature of his communica- 
 tion ?" 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 " These symbols will be shown to those who are quick at ex- 
 pounding riddles. Yet it is scarcely to be conceived that so 
 worthy a minister of the Prophet should have addressed his sym- 
 bols to one who cannot read their meaning." 
 
 *' He is but a man, and all men are alike prone to error." 
 " True ; — you may soon look for confinement in a deeper and 
 darker chamber." 
 
 When the soldier quitted the prisoner's cell, the latter began to 
 muse upon the communication intended to be conveyed by his 
 unexpected visitor. He knew the fakeer to be a man eminent for 
 his piety throughout the country, and therefore held in the greatest 
 reverence. He was supposed to have supernatural communica- 
 tion with members of another world, and, consequently, was as 
 much feared as reverenced ; which accounts for the respect and
 
 398 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 forbearance shown to him by the garrison of the mountain-fortress 
 during his mysterious visit to their prisoner. 
 
 After the fakeer's departure, the unhappy captive began to re- 
 flect upon the signification of those symbols which had been 
 dropped upon the floor before him. It was evident they were 
 intended to convey some information, which it was expected his 
 wit would be quick enough to comprehend. Although he had 
 obtained but an imperfect glance at the ring which the soldier who 
 had accompanied the stranger held in his own hand and at a dis- 
 tance, yet he fancied it was familiar to him. He had, however, 
 only a vague and indefinite recollection of it ; still it occurred to 
 him that it was not the first time he had seen the golden trinket. 
 Upon considering the matter further, it struck him that the ring 
 must be a pledge sent from some one interested in his welfare : it 
 implied confidence in the messenger, and a religious man could 
 only be a messenger of peace. 
 
 The more he thought, the more satisfied he felt that he had 
 received a message which warranted the expectation of liberty. 
 The rhododendron was a flower which grew upon the far moun- 
 tains, where the genius of Liberty abides; it was therefore an 
 emblem of that freedom which his heart panted to secure. In this 
 symbol, then, he recognised the suggestion that his liberty might 
 be obtained : but how ? The third symbol was a sufficient corol- 
 lary to the two first problems : a dove flying from a hawk told 
 him, in terms sufficiently clear, that he must attempt his escape. . 
 It was by no means evident how this was to be accomplished ; 
 and the difficulties which presented themselves, as he calculated 
 the probable chance of success, staggered his resolution, and 
 almost crushed his hopes. It occurred to him, notwithstanding, 
 that means would be supplied. That the fakeer had visited him 
 for some especial purpose there could be no doubt ; and he re- 
 solved to await the issue, satisfied it would not end where it had 
 begun.
 
 399 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEXT morning the prisoner was confined to the ante roomy 
 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 pal- 
 myra 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 palpita- 
 ting heart the captive obeyed this injunction, and drew up a 
 strong silken rope, about the size of his fore-finger ; attached lo 
 which was another strip of palmyra leaf, with the following 
 direction : " Conceal this, and take the first seasonable oppor- 
 tunity 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 prisoner's cell was scarcely 
 respirable. There was no star visible throughout the whole ex- 
 panse 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 in- 
 creased ; and as the sun was withdrawing his light, which faded 
 from the deepening volumes that hung around his disc, he seemed 
 to glare omi-nously. He bade this world a sullen good-night, as
 
 400 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 he 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 hef 
 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 fol- 
 lowed ; 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 por- 
 tion 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 
 bad 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 
 Kiuch of heaven's light here for a state captive,"
 
 THk PRlNCk AND THE FAKEER. 46I 
 
 " 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 instru- 
 ments ; he ratifies the punishment of those we.doom to trial, and 
 will reward his own instruments who perform their duty con- 
 scientiously. 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- 
 right," said he, approaching the loophole, and surveying the open- 
 ing which had been left by the thunderbolt : " the whole side of 
 'he mountain seems to have been splintered," he continued, run- 
 ning his hand along the side of the cell where the mischief ap- 
 peared. " 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 lew 
 moments, and then all was still, 
 
 INDIA. D D
 
 Ab2 THB, PRINCE AND THE EAKEM. 
 
 Happily for him who had thus opportunely gdt 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 moun- 
 tain'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 secu- 
 rity. 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 silver
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE fAAEER. 403 
 
 mouthpiece 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 foi 
 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-posses- 
 sion, 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 slantec over the valley in 
 which the escaped prisoner had taken refuge, he perceived that 
 Ve was in the heart of a thickly-wooded glen, surrounded by a 
 [imily 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 afc^jve, he descended the tree with all possible despatch j 
 
 D D 2
 
 404 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 when his joy was only equalled by his astonishment at beholdlug 
 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 grand- 
 son 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. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WELCOME," said the venerable man, " to the abode of the 
 free ! You interpreted the symbols as I had anticipated, 
 and your liberty is secured. The Emperor is dead, and the Vizier 
 seeks to place you upon the throne as legitimate heir of the 
 empire. You must repair instantly to the capital, and the crown 
 will be placed upon your head." 
 
 "May not this be a device," asked the prince musingly, "to 
 seduce me into the power of new enemies ? Is not Shah Jehan 
 in arms ? What forces can I oppose to so powerful a rival ?" 
 
 " The kingdom is divided. Your uncle Sheriar, at the Sultana's 
 instigation, claims the succession, and is prepared to substantiate
 
 THE PR I Net. AND THE FAKEER 405 
 
 bis claims by force of arms ; but the Vizier is determined to place 
 the sceptre in your grasp ; and backed by the imperial army 
 under the conduct of such a leader, no one can be in a condition 
 to dispute your lawful inheritance with any chance of «iiccess. 
 Your father's rebellion is forgotten, and the people shout your 
 name with enthusiam." 
 
 *' But how," inquired the prince, with a keen glance at the 
 venerable minister of the Prophet, — " how have all these facts , 
 reached this lone retreat ?" 
 
 " My son," replied the old man solemnly, " this lone retreat is 
 celebrated from one extremity of Hindostan to the other, and 
 princes visit the cavern of the fakeer. I am consulted by the 
 wisest legislators, as well as by the ignorant vagrant whose only 
 abode is the forest jungle, and his bed the dry turf I am 
 respected, but I am also fea-i-ed. My friendship has been won in 
 your behalf : do not despise it, for my enmity can reach you even 
 upon the throne, though surrounded by armies and directed by 
 the wisest counsellors." 
 
 " Well, father, it is certain that I cannot be in a worse position 
 than I was, confined in the dark bowels of yonder mountain. 
 Liberty is a cheap purchase almost at any price. Your good-will 
 assures me I can scarcely fail of success, supported by the alliance 
 and directed by the counsels of so holy a man. But suppose the 
 garrison should seek me in this retreat ; am I secure from their 
 search ?" 
 
 " They have too much respect for the old man of the valley to 
 desecrate the sanctuary which he has rendered sacred by an 
 occupation of more than fifty years. But even should they be so 
 bold as to forget what is due to the character of one whose life 
 has been devoted to God, their eftbrts to recapture you will not 
 avail : — there is succour at hand." 
 
 " Who is advancing to my rescue ?" 
 
 " One, my son, little accustomed to mount the war-horse : but 
 when the heart once rouses the spirit to action, the meek dove 
 becomes an eagle in all things — save in a thirst for blood." 
 
 By this time the sound of voices was heard in various directions
 
 4o6 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 round the fakeer's abode. The wood grew so thickly in th^ 
 valley, that in many parts it was impossible to penetrate ; and the 
 fakeer's retreat was in the most inaccessible part of the jungle. 
 There was, however, a narrow path leading to it from the plain, 
 which happened to be known to one of the garrison, who under- 
 took to conduct his comrades to the spot. Not anticipating any 
 interruption ni their search after the fugitive, a very small party 
 •had undertaken the pursuit. 
 
 The prince was alarmed as the voices approached, but his 
 venerable companion endeavoured to assure him. 
 
 " Young man," said he, " this is not a moment for idle fears. 
 Remember that the success of human endeavour is permitted 
 only where it answers the wise ends of Him who is the source of 
 all wisdom. I have heard that you once escaped the tiger's 
 deadly spring : but know, that He who could pluck thee from the 
 jaws of the tiger can likewise rescue thee from the arm of man. 
 Bear this, moreover, in mind, that the prince who has no confi- 
 dence in God cannot be fit to reign ; for no man can rule an 
 empire wisely except God be with him." 
 
 The party in search of the prince had now surrounded the 
 cavern in which he lay concealed. 
 
 "Father," said one of the soldiers, who seemed to be their 
 leader, " our prisoner has escaped, and we must seek for him in 
 your burrow. He would, no doubt, prefer being buried alive 
 here, with such holy company, to occupying a more spacious 
 abode higher up the hill, without any merrier companions than 
 his own thoughts." 
 
 " Soldier !" said the fakeer, rising from his underground dwell- 
 ing, and standing before the party with an aspect of stern 
 indignation, " search where you list : profane the sanctuary of 
 the Prophet's vicegerent by your unhallowed intrusion, and be the 
 consequences upon your own head." 
 
 " My head for the consequences !" said the man, and leaped 
 down into the subterraneous abode of sanctity. 
 
 At this moment the fakeer stepped behind a tree — struck rapidly 
 upon a gong three blows, which resounded through the valley
 
 . THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 407 
 
 The soldier now hailed his companions from below, announcing 
 to them that he had found their prisoner. The party consisted 
 of ten men, nine of whom had by this time surrounded the en- 
 trance of the cavern to assist their comrade in securing the cap- 
 tive : they had, however, no sooner done this, than each man fell 
 to the earth transfixed with an arrow. A party of twenty Bheels, 
 rushing from their ambush, instantly despatched and stripped the 
 wounded soldiers. 
 
 " Now," said the fakeer, addressing the prince, who had as- 
 cended from his place of sanctuary, " you see how little cause 
 there was for distrust. Those who have been instrumental to 
 your escape had calculated the probabilities of a recapture too 
 nicely not to provide against such a contingency. You must 
 follow your rescuers, who will conduct you to a place of se- 
 curity." 
 
 " But shall I not leave you in jeopardy? Will it not be sur- 
 mised that you have been privy to my escape, and will not my 
 enemies wreak their vengeance upon you ?" 
 
 " Should they do their worst, they can only cut off the ragged 
 remnant of an existence now well nigh spun to its last thread. 
 Let them do what they list — I fear them not. I have fulfilled the 
 purposes of my vocation, and am ready to enter upon the con- 
 summation of my destiny. Still, while I live, the benefits of my 
 experience are at your command." 
 
 The prince now quitted the spot with the old man's blessing, 
 and followed the Bheels into the thickest of the jungle. These 
 half-savage mountaineers threaded the thicket with surprising 
 facility, clearing the way before their royal charge, ^.nd treating 
 him with a rude courtesy which showed that they were less bar- 
 barians by nature than by circumstance. They were almost en- 
 tirely naked, having only a narrow strip of cloth round the loins, 
 and another round the head, meant to represent a turban, or 
 rather a skull-cap. They were armed with bows and arrows of the 
 rudest construction, but which they used with a skill perfectly 
 amazing. During their progress through the forest, several of 
 them took occasion to display their dexterity before the royal
 
 408 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 Stranger. A partridge rose from some long grass in an open vista 
 in the wood, and, while on the wing, was transfixed with an arrow 
 by one of the Bheels. A pigeon was killed in a similar manner. 
 A hare fell a victim to the dexterity of a third archer. 
 
 After travelling about six hours, they reached a rude village, 
 nearly on the summit of a hill, in the gorge of a deep glen. The 
 prince was here shown into the best habitation the village afforded ; 
 which was a small hovel thatched with dried plantain-leaves, the 
 walls consisting of thin bamboos interlaced with jungle-grass, the 
 floor of mud being overlaid with a compost of cow-dung and straw. 
 A coarse rug was spread in one corner, and this constituted the 
 whole furniture of the apartment. 
 
 The soldier who had sprung into the fakeer's cave, and thus 
 escaped tlie arrows of the Bheels, they took prisoner, and made 
 him accompany them to the village. On their arrival, a consulta- 
 tion being held, they determined to put him to death. He was 
 accordingly hung with his own turban upon the branch of a tree ; 
 and while struggling in the agonies of strangulation, six arrows 
 were discharged at him. His body was afterwards cut down, 
 stripped, and thrown into a well. 
 
 Dismal as the hovel was into which the prince was obliged to 
 creep, the consciousness of freedom imparted to it an air of com- 
 fort which he had never yet enjoyed so sensibly even in his father's 
 palace. Before evening closed in, a bustle was heard in the 
 village, which was almost immediately followed by a palankeen 
 and two hackeries,* accompanied by about twenty attendants. 
 Such a circumstance having probably never before occurred in a 
 village of poor Bheels, excited a considerable sensation among the 
 inhabitants ; some of whom, however, were evidently so little 
 overcome by surprise, as to render it more than probable that the 
 arrival had not been altogether unexpected. The prince could 
 not help feeling surprise when the fact was announced to him ; 
 %nd on quitting the hut, in which he had flung himself upon the 
 
 * A hackery is a covered carriage, dra\ra by bullocks.
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 409 
 
 rug, in order to snatch a brief repose after the fatigues of his 
 journey, his astonishment was only surpassed by his deUght at 
 meeting in the stranger, whose arrival had just been announced to 
 him, the daughter of Sultan Shariar, who, immediately upon the 
 death of Jehangire, had set up his claim to the imperial throne. 
 
 An attachment had long subsisted between the daughter of 
 Shariar and the heir of Chusero, his eldest brother, who had been 
 murdered by Shah Jehan, third son of the deceased monarch 
 Jehangire. This attachment was originally encouraged by the 
 parents ; but Sultan Shariar had lately withheld his approbation 
 upon the most futile pleas, his motives becoming sufficiently 
 evident upon the death of his father, the late Emperor, whom he 
 sought to succeed as sovereign of the Moguls. Prince Dawir 
 Buxsh, son of Chusero, and consequently the lawful successoi of 
 his grandfather, had been imprisoned through the mtrigues of his 
 uncle, Shariar, who had persuaded the credulous Emperor that the 
 young prince was engaged in a conspiracy against his life. When 
 Jehangire died, Shariar immediately resolved to assert his title vj 
 the sovereignty of the Mogul empire. His daughter, whose afifec 
 tion for her cousin had not abated, in spite of her parent's hostility, 
 effected the escape of Dawir Buxsh, through the intervention of 
 the fakeer, who hired a body of Bheels, whom he placed in am- 
 bush near his underground dwelling, and accomplished the prince's 
 retreat, as has been already described. The princess had for 
 some days taken up her abode in the neighbourhood, and had 
 been apprised about noon of the success of those measures she 
 had employed for the prince's release. Upon receiving this in- 
 formation, she immediately set out for the village, where she 
 arrived about the close of day. 
 
 The prince was overjoyed at so unexpected a meeting ; he 
 could scarcely control the excess of his rapture. Blessings seemed 
 so to accumulate upom him, that he already began to fancy he 
 had swallowed the last bitter in the draught of life, which had 
 been sweetened by a medicament that had either expelled or 
 spiritualized the minutest dross, and that there now remained 
 nothing but a residuum of joy. He recollected the rebukes of
 
 4IO THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER, 
 
 the holy man to whom he was so signally indebted for his release 
 from an odious bondage, and readily persuaded himself that there 
 was something prophetic in his solemn homily. 
 
 " Welcome," said he, " sweet lady," as he handed the princess 
 from her palankeen : " this is, indeed, an unexpected but welcome 
 meeting. To what am I indebted for so signal a gi-atification ?" 
 
 " To a woman's affection, prince, which, like the lightning of 
 Heaven, overcomes all obstacles ; and, though it sometimes blasts 
 that on which it falls, is nevertheless a light and a glory : love 
 throws a beam of gladness over the dark lines of human destiny^ 
 as lightning gilds the storm." 
 
 '•I'he comparison is somewhat ominous. I would rather feel 
 the warm glow of a woman's love than the bright shaft which flies 
 betore the thunder. It has a deadly gleam, when one knows that 
 dea'.n may be in its flash. The fires of true love harm not. But 
 welcome, lady, to the retreat of a poor fugitive, whose only abode 
 '^ the wretched hovel of the mountain robber." 
 
 "You will make but a short sojourn here among these rude 
 though friendly mountaineers. To-morrow you may expect to 
 meet friends ready to place you upon that throne which you were 
 born to honour. I have had a hard struggle between filial love 
 and the obligations of a plighted affection, but the latter have 
 prevailed. As your affianced bride, I quitted my father's roof to 
 join you, when I saw he would deprive you of your lawful inheri- 
 tance. The Vizier has armed in your cause, and the imperial army 
 under his command is now encamped in the neighbourhood of 
 Lahore, where he is expecting you to join him, having been ap- 
 prised of the measures to be adopted for your escape. ISIy father's 
 army is on its march towards the capital, and when the adverse 
 forces meet, the struggle will no doubt be desperate." 
 
 The prince resigned his hut to the princess, who ordered in her 
 palankeen, within which she determined to pass the night. ]\Iean- 
 while, Dawir Buxsh was conducted to another hut, much less 
 clean and commodious than that he had quitted, as a Bheel 
 family had vacated it in order to accommodate him. The atten- 
 dants of the princess were dispersed about the village, most of
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 41X 
 
 thenj spreading their rugs under trees, satisfied with that sort of 
 accommodation which, though no hardship in eastern cHmes, 
 would be considered among the severest in countries where excess 
 of refinement has ahiiost given a new interpretation to privation. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE royal fugitive now thought that he was beyon'^ the reach 
 of pursuit, and, in a state of enviable r'lnquillity, thtew 
 himself upon a rug in a corner of his hovel. He was too haj>py 
 to sleep, and lay thinking upon the splendid prospects opening 
 before him, and which appeared on the eve of consummation. 
 The first man in the empire had armed in his cause ; the whole 
 imperial army appeared favourable to his pretentions, and few or 
 none of the principal Omrahs, so far as he could ascertain, had 
 declared against him. He was secure in the affections of the 
 most beautiful princess of her age. Being young, in high health, 
 and in the vigour of early manhood, he foresaw nothing but enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 As he lay pondering the happiness which his full and joyous 
 heart flattered itself was in store for him, he seemed to be carried 
 into a new but delightful world, where the visionary was not to be 
 distinguished from the true, but where there was nothing of the 
 one or the other to arrest that full tide of fruition which was 
 flowing in upon him. His very body appeared to be lifted above 
 this gross earth, and though it was reclined upon a coarse rug, 
 within the small dirty sty of a Bheel, it was at that moment ali\e 
 to sensations of thrilling delight. The soul was too buoyant to be 
 tied down to the material pleasures of this gross world, but soared 
 with the imagination into a new field of bliss, where, though it 
 was entranced in a delusive dream of the moment, this was never- 
 theless one of those exquisite fictions which have all the glow and 
 vividness of the most distinct reality. These happy visions at 
 length gave way to a profound sleep ; his senses were steeped
 
 412 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 in an unconsciousness so absolute that no perceptible image passed 
 o\'er the fine speculum of the brain, which the heavy breath of 
 slumber had rendered too dull for reflection. In the midst of his 
 stubborn repose he was roused by sounds that portended evil. 
 He listened ; the clash of arms was distinguishable, and presently 
 blended with the shouts of conflict. Morning had not yet dawned, 
 but the stars were bright above, and there was sufficient light to 
 distinguish objects not very remote. The prince was staggered, 
 he knew not what to think. It occurred to him that part of the 
 garrison, from whose custody he had escaped, must have traced 
 him to his retreat, and were in the act of attempting a rescue. 
 Impelled by his apprehension for the princess, he rushed towards 
 the hut which she occupied, but to his consternation found it 
 deserted. None of her attendants were at hand. The shouts of 
 battle still sounded in his ears ; he bounded forward, but Avas 
 almost immediately surrounded. Being unarmed, he could offer 
 no resistance. How suddenly was the beautiful fabric raised by 
 the enthusiastic ardour of hope subverted ! His hands were 
 instantly secured, and he was ordered to proceed between two 
 soldiers, two preceding and two following. 
 
 Light streaks of grey were beginning to dapple the horizon. 
 The prince was now made acquainted with the nature of the late 
 conflict, which he already partly suspected. Sultan Shariar, having 
 been apprized, just before the princess quitted her home, that she 
 had projected a plan for the delivery of Dawir Buxsh, had ordered 
 a strong party of troops to follow in her track, suspecting that she 
 was about to proceed to the place where his competitor for the 
 throne of the Moguls would lie concealed, if he should succeed in 
 effecting his escape. The princess, the better to cover her design, 
 quitted her home under pretence of making a pilgrimage to an 
 ancient mosque raised by one of the early Mahomedan conquerers. 
 Her intention was no secret to her father, who ordered her to be 
 followed at a convenient distance, and brought back when she 
 should have reached the place of her destination, with the Prince 
 Dawir Buxsh, if he should be discovered there. This order had 
 been executed with such success that both the princess and her
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 413 
 
 affianced husband fell into the hands of the detachment fiom 
 Shariar's army, as has been already detailed. 
 
 As the dawn advanced the troops were galled by arrows from 
 the Bheels, who lay in ambush in the various thickets of the 
 jungle. Not an enemy was to be seen, and yet the frequent 
 wounds received by the Sultan's soldiers as they descended the 
 hill told with a forcible eloquence how deadly were the foes by 
 whom they were surrounded. In order to keep their body as 
 compact as possible, that it might present less surface to the 
 arrows of the foe, they marched in close column of six deep, 
 dividing in the centre, Avhere the princess was borne in her palan- 
 keen, and the prince, guarded by six soldiers, brought up the rear. 
 The column was dreadfully galled as it proceeded. Several soldiers 
 fell dead from the arrows of their secret foes. There was no 
 evading the peril, and no possibility of reaching the bowmen, who 
 were so intimately acquainted with every intricacy of the jungle 
 that the moment they were pursued they disappeared among the 
 thickets, where it was impossible to follow them. 
 
 The prince was vigilantly guarded ; but in passing through a 
 dark hollow of the wood, the two soldiers on either side of him 
 received at the same moment an arrow in their temples, and expired 
 on the spot, the four others being likewise wounded, though not 
 mortally. A party of Bheels darted from the covert in an instant 
 and seized the captive, but were impeded by the brave resistance 
 of the four wounded soldiers, until a party of the main body came 
 up and put those bold mountaineers to flight. In the struggle, 
 their royal prisoner received a severe sabre-cut on the back part 
 of his arm, which was bound up tightly with his turban to prevent 
 the effusion of blood. Happily for Sultan Shariar's troops, their 
 march through the jungle was not a long one, or they would have 
 been more than probably cut off to a man. 
 
 Upon gaining the bottom of the hill, the detachment entered a 
 naked plain, in which, after a short march, they halted near a 
 village, under a tope or grove of mango trees. Such however was 
 the severe execution done among them in their progress through 
 the forest, that upon numbering their force, they discovered that
 
 iH THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 fifteen out of a hundred had been killed, and thirty-two wounded, 
 nine of whom they were obliged to leave behind them at the 
 tallage, ^o the care of the native surgeons. The prince's arm was 
 here examined, but the hurt, though severe, was found to be only 
 a flesh wound ; which being dressed, the detachment proceeded 
 on its march after taking a slight repast, and halted a second time 
 at another village, about two hours before noon. Here the prince 
 began to suffer considerable pain from his wound. He became 
 feverish and depressed. He requested to be allowed an interview 
 with the princess, which was refused. The reaction of disappoint- 
 ment soon increased his feverish symptoms to an alarming extent. 
 He was now as despondent as he had been previously exhilarated, 
 and saw nothing in the future but gigantic miseries, or the shadows 
 of departed joys. His heart sickened ; he gave way to unmanly 
 sorrow. His ardent spirit, which had been elevated to the highest 
 pinnacle of hope, sank at once into the very lowest depths of 
 despair. He felt as if the stroke of death would be a blessing. 
 His fever increased to such a degree that he was unable to proceed, 
 for he had hitherto been forced to march like a common soldier. In 
 consequence of his illness a rude litter was provided, upon which he 
 was placed, a coarse clothbeing thrown over it, to exclude the scorch- 
 ing rays of the sun, and he thus proceeded, borne upon the shoulders 
 of six men. No entreaties could induce the officer commanding the 
 detachment to allow him to hold a moment's conversation with 
 Shariar's daughter, who was guarded with a vigilance that defied 
 evasion. She was, however, treated with the greatest respect, and 
 every attention paid to her comfort; while her cousin, on the contrary, 
 had not only been treated with marked disrespect, but subjected 
 to many painful indignities. Of this his companion in sorrow was 
 ignorant. Still, although every wish she expressed consistent 
 with her security was immediately granted, yet her earnest solicita- 
 tions to see the prince were refused. She therefore proceeded in 
 iilence and in sadness under this bitterest privation of her captivity. 
 The illness of Dawir Buxsh was studiously kept from her know- 
 ledge, nor until they reached their destination was the circumstance 
 of his having been wounded made known to her.
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 4tS 
 
 Upon their arrival at Shariar's camp, the prince was consigned 
 to a tent which was rigidly guarded ; and the father having up- 
 braided his daughter with treachery, gave her into the custody 
 of some of the female attendants of the harem, who took her 
 to a tent in the rear of the encampment, likewise surrounded 
 by a numerous and vigilant guard. Her ordinary attendants 
 were withdrawn ; the men distributed in different divisions of 
 the army, and the women sent to other services. 
 
 The royal prisoner was kept in rigid confinement ; and though 
 his fever became high and threatened to be fatal, not even a 
 servant was permitted to wait upon him. He was deeply galled 
 at this indignity ; but the guards derided his expostulations, and 
 he was left to struggle against his malady as he best might. 
 The strength of his constitution prevailed. On the third day 
 the violence of his fever abated, and his wound began rapidly 
 to heal. 
 
 Shariar, hearing that the Vizier was advancing towards him 
 with the imperial army, which, though less in number than his 
 own, was composed of choicer troops, was afraid of proceeding 
 to extremities against his prisoner, lest it should weaken his own 
 cause by casting upon him the slur of having murdered a nephew 
 and lawful heir to the throne. He was nevertheless in hopes 
 that harsh treatment might aggravate the fever which the prince's 
 wound had induced, and thus, by removing out of his way a 
 dangerous competitor, leave the road to empire comparatively clear 
 before him. 
 
 The Vizier had now advanced within two coss of Shariar's army, 
 which was encamped on the opposite side of a narrow but deep 
 stream, that divided the hostile forces. Shariar had taken up a 
 strong position on the slope of a hill, flanked on one side by the 
 stream, and on the other by a thick jungle. The Vizier crossed 
 this stream during the night, at a ford about two miles below the 
 enemy's encampment, and appeared next morning drawn up in 
 battle array upon the plain His army was formed into three 
 divisions ; the right wing being commanded by Mohabet Chan, 
 the second by an Omrah, who had distinguished himself in the
 
 4x6 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 Deccan, under Shah Jehan, and the centre by the Vizier in person. 
 As the army of Shariar was in too strong a position to render an 
 attack prudent on the part of the imperiaUsts, the Vizier, sus- 
 pecting that the enemy, confiding in superior numbers, would rush 
 down upon him from the height which they occupied, warily 
 awaited the expected onset. He was not deceived in this con- 
 jecture, Shariar, conceiving that the impetuosity of a charge from 
 the elevation of his position would give him considerable ad- 
 vantage, commanded a vigorous onset to be made against the 
 enemy's centre, where the Vizier commanded. The shock Avas so 
 great that the imperialists recoiled ; but Mohabet Chan immedi- 
 ately brought up his men, who, attacking the Sultan's troops with 
 great energy upon the left flank, soon checked the momentarj' 
 advantage which they had obtained, and the battle raged for some 
 time with a pretty near equality of success. 
 
 The raw forces of Shariar were several times repulsed by the well- 
 disciplined valour of the imperial soldiers ; but fresh troops rushed 
 to the charge as their comrades gave way, and the balance of 
 victory hung for some time doubtful. The Vizier's elephant was 
 killed under him, but he leaped from the howdah, and fought on 
 foot with a spirit which infused new courage into his army, ana 
 baffled the repeated assaults of the enemy. Whilst the right wing, 
 under the command of Mohabet, and the centre, at the head of 
 which the Vizier still fought in person, were maintaining a desiderate 
 conflict against superior numbers, with slow but manifest advan- 
 tage, the left wing was repulsed, and obliged to retreat before the 
 impetuous charge of its foes, headed by their princes. At this 
 critical moment, Dawir Buxsh, who had managed during the con- 
 fusion of the battle to escape from his guards, was seen in full 
 career towards the contending armies. He had mounted a charger 
 which had galloped from the battle on the death of its rider. 
 Reaching the left wing of the imperial army as it was retreating 
 before its victois, he shouted to the soldiers to support their 
 sovereign. The enemy paused for an instant in their career of 
 pursuit, unable to comprehend the arrival of a foe from their own 
 camp During that pause the imperialists rallied. Dawir Buxsh
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 417 
 
 placed himself at their head, charged and drove back the insur- 
 gents, who, becoming dispirited by so unexpected a check, fal- 
 tered, retreated, and their retreat was soon converted into a total 
 rout. The centre and right wing, commanded by the Vizier and 
 Mohabet Chan, had already obtained so decided an advantage 
 over the main body of the army to which they were opposed, that 
 the rout of the enemy's right wing almost immediately decided 
 the fortune of the day. The army of Shariar was totally defeated, 
 and he fell into the hands of the Vizier. The slaughter was 
 dreadful, the victory decisive. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PRINCE Dawir Buxsh was received with loud acclamation 
 by the troops. His late exploit gave them hopes of an 
 emperor that would lead them on to conquest. He was borne in 
 triumph to the imperial camp, and next day the army proceeded 
 to Agra. Sultan Shariar's daughter had fallen into the victor's 
 hands. The youthful sovereign desired that she might be brought 
 into his presence ; she accordingly appeared before him, her 
 bosom agitated by conflicting emotions. She was at once elated 
 by joy at her lover's release, and depressed by sorrow at hei 
 father's captivity. Her beauty was heightened by the singular 
 variety of feeling which her countenance expressed. She fell at 
 the prince's feet : he affectionately raised her, and said, with 
 earnest but tender passion, 
 
 " Let not my preserver kneel to one who is indebted to her for 
 his liberty — perhaps his life ; for the dungeon soon puts an end to 
 earthly captivities. The star of our destinies has risen — may it 
 ascend in glory to its meridian ! As soon as I am placed upon 
 the musnud, our marriage shall be solemnized, and we will enjoy 
 the consummation of our happiness, which adverse chances have 
 so long delayed." 
 
 " But my father i" exclaimed the princess with a suffused eye 
 and quivering lip- 
 
 INDIA. E E
 
 4i8 THE PRINCE AND THE FAREER. 
 
 " He will, for the present, remain a prisoner. He has sougnt to 
 usurp the crown. The sovereign of the INIoguls must perform his 
 duty to his people as well as to himself." 
 
 This was said with a tone of grave determination, which 
 strikingly contrasted with the warm glow of tenderness that had 
 preceded it. There was an expression of almost stem resolution 
 in the calm but brilliant gleam of the speaker^'s eye. The princess 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " Be composed, lady," said the prince, resuming his former 
 tenderness, " and confide in my justice, which I trust will never 
 neutralize my clemency. Your father has erred ; and if he may 
 not be forgiven, for your sake his life is sacred." 
 
 The daughter gave an hysteric sob, threw herself upon the 
 prince's neck, and yielded to an irrepressible burst of emotion. 
 She was relieved by the promise : a smile dilated her brow ; her 
 dark full eye expanded with a strong impulse of gratitude ; and 
 a single tear trickled slowly down her cheek, upon which a deli- 
 cate smile quivered, like sunshine following the shower. The 
 attendants were moved at the scene ; the prince was subdued, 
 still his determination relative to the prisoner, which had not yet 
 transpired, remained unaltered. His attachment towards his 
 daughter was strong and fervent, but he could not forget that he 
 had been grossly wronged. The indignities so wantonly heaped 
 upon him during his march to Shariar's camp, when suffering from 
 the pain of his wound, did not pass from his mind, and it is not 
 the character of despotic princes to suffer injury to escape retri- 
 bution. 
 
 The princess retired from the royal tent with a joyous satisfac- 
 tion arising from the assurance that her father's life should be 
 spared. She could not for a moment suppose that the man by 
 whom she was evidently beloved, would allow himself long to 
 entertain feelings of hostility towards her parent, however great 
 the provocation. But she knew not the heart of him upon 
 whose clemency she relied. Revenge is the most difficult passion 
 of our nature to subdue; and its indulgence, among absolute 
 "^i-inces. is one of the greatest evils of despotism,
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 4ig 
 
 Dawir Buxsh proceeded to Agra, accompanied by the Vizier 
 and Mohabet Chan, and was hailed as their Emperor by the 
 universal acclamation of the citizens. He was immediately 
 seated upon the musnud, and a proclamation issued for the 
 celebration of the royal nuptials with the daughter of Sultan 
 Sliariar. 
 
 On the following day the prisoner was summoned into the 
 presence of his imperial nephew. He appeared with an emaciated 
 countenance and a dejected mien. He had been long suffering 
 from a dreadful malady, which had almost reduced him to a 
 shadow. His daughter was present when her parent entered, and 
 seeing his bitter dejection, she threw herself upon his bosom in a 
 paroxysm of filial grief. She was gently removed by the at- 
 tendants. 
 
 "What does the man deserve," asked Dawir Buxsh sternly, 
 turning towards the disconsolate prisoner, "who has rebelled 
 against his lawful sovereign, cast him into prison, treated him with 
 indignity, and exposed his life to jeopardy?" 
 
 Shariar was silent. 
 
 " Silence is the most eloquent confession of guilt," continued 
 the Emperor ; " dost thou not deserve that death, which, had your 
 ambitious arms succeeded, you had no doubt in reserve for me ?" 
 
 " I am in your power," replied Shariar firmly ; " you can exer- 
 cise that power as your discretion may prompt. I may be your 
 victim, but nothing shall force me to disclose my intentions. I 
 acted as I felt justified in acting ; it has ended in failure, and I am 
 prepared to pay the penalty." 
 
 The indignation of the young Emperor was kindled, and he 
 said fiercely, " Hoary traitors must not escape punishment, how- 
 ever nearly allied to the throne. I have promised to spare your 
 life," said he, " but the light of heaven shall never more beam 
 upon those eyes." 
 
 Saying this he rose, and gave the signal to a soWier, who ad- 
 vanced and seized the unhappy Shariar. His daughter, with a 
 wild scream of agony, threw herself between the ruffian and his 
 victim ; but she was instantly torn from the embraces of her 
 
 E E 2
 
 4«» THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 parent, who stood with patient resignation, awaiting the execution 
 of his dreadful sentence. The soldier advanced, and plunged the 
 point of his crease into both eyes of the unfortunate Sultan. Witli 
 the blood trickling down his cheeks, mingled with tears, he 
 implored to be once more permitted to embrace his child. She 
 rushed into his arms. 
 
 " Tyrant !" said she, addressing the young Emperor, " this 
 heart shall never be united with that of one whose hand is stained 
 with my parent's blood. I have no longer anything to render this 
 world desirable, and quit it imprecating the malediction of a dying 
 woman upon thy head !" 
 
 Saying this, she seized a crease which was stuck in the girdle of 
 one of the guards, drew it suddenly before he was aware of her 
 purpose, and plunging it into her bosom, fell dead at the soldier's 
 feet. The prince was staggered at the dreadful but unexpected 
 issue of his own severity. He had never for a moment contem- 
 plated such a consummation. His attachment to the princess had 
 been ardent, but he could not forget the wrongs received at the 
 liands of her father. 
 
 From this moment a cloud of gloom hung upon his brow. He 
 saw no one ; and his seclusion gave umbrage to his subjects, who 
 began to murmur at the want of enterprise in their new Sovereign. 
 Rumours were daily spreading of Shah J ehan's approach to avenge 
 the indignity offered to his brother Shariar, and the death of that 
 prijce's daughter ; but the Emperor disregarded these rumours, 
 fancying himself secure in the affections of his people, and in the 
 support of the Vizier and Mohabet Chan. 
 
 Shortly after the decease of his affianced bride, the venerable 
 fakeer stood before Dawir Buxsh, and with undaunted severity 
 upbraided him with his cruel rigour towards his uncle. 
 
 " Your throne totters," he said solemnly ; " the sceptre which a 
 tyrant sways is ever held in a feeble grasp, and by a precarious 
 tenure. Justice can never sanction cruelty ; and you should have 
 remembered that you were indebted for liberty, most probably for 
 lifcj to the daughter of that prince whom you have so wantonly
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 4at 
 
 mutilated. The blood of that daughter will cry from the earth 
 against you. Heaven has its punishment for guilty sovereigns, 
 and your doom has gone forth." 
 
 The youthful monarch was subdued by the solemn earnestness 
 of the holy man, and quailed before him. 
 
 " Father," he said, " I have but visited a rebel with merited 
 retribution. His cruelties towards me have been repaid with 
 cruelty, which the laws of justice sanction." 
 
 "But which," fervently exclaimed the fakeer, "the laws of re- 
 ligion forbid. The justice of tyrants is not the justice of the great 
 and good God, who so tempers it with mercy that repentance 
 converts it into a blessing both to the receiver and the giver. 
 Justice becomes a bane where mercy is defied and scorned. 
 Retribution is an attribute which belongs alone to Omnipotence ; 
 man knows not how to exercise it. You have attempted to grasp 
 the thunder ; beware that it does not recoil upon your own head 
 with that terrible energy which leaves behind the fearful impress 
 of destruction." 
 
 Bold as was the rebuke of this venerable man, and even insolent 
 as was his intrusion and bearing, yet such was his character for 
 sanctity, and so universal the awe in which he was held, that no 
 one attempted to resent the indignity offered to their sovereign, 
 and the fakeer quitted the imperial presence with a smile of calm 
 defiance, as he tottered out of the palace. The Emperor called 
 to mind his visit while he was a captive, and remembered that to 
 him he was chiefly indebted for the success of the princess's plan 
 for his escape, which had been eventually crowned with such com- 
 plete success ; he therefore permitted him to pass from the palace 
 without molestation. The old man's words, however, had sunk 
 deep into the heart of Dawir Buxsh, and harrowed him to the 
 quick. There was a fearful import in them which troubled him 
 sorely ; they sounded like the dark presage of doom. 
 
 The rumours of his uncle Shah Jehan's approach daily strength- 
 ened, and he already began to fancy that he saw his own speedy 
 dowi^fall. Those nobles who were more immediately about his
 
 422 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 
 
 person, whispered doubts of the Vizier's sincerity, and these 
 
 doubts were but too soon confii-med. The report of Shah Jehan's 
 
 march towards the capital was shortly verified. He reached 
 
 lahore at the head of a numerous army, and encamped a few 
 
 miles from the city. The young Emperor had taken no measures 
 
 to interrupt his passage, relying upon the fidelity of the Vizier and 
 
 Mohabet Chan, both of whom, as he found out, too late, had 
 
 favoured his uncle's designs upon the throne. He received a 
 
 summons, which was communicated by the Vizier, to resign the 
 
 sceptre into older and abler hands. When the unhappy sovereign 
 
 upbraided his minister with treachery, the latter did not hesitate 
 
 to confess that he had simply favoured his accession, in order to 
 
 give time for Shah Jehan to collect an army and put himself in a 
 
 condition to dispute his rights. " The Moguls," continued the 
 
 Vizier, " do not like to be governed either by boys or by women, 
 
 both of whom ought to yield to the natural supremacy of men." 
 
 This was not the time to dispute a doctrine subversive of all 
 
 legitimate rights, with one who had the power to illustrate it in his 
 
 own hands. Dawir Buxsh, without a moment's hesitation, seeing 
 
 that opposition would be mere fatuity, consented to relinquish the 
 
 imperial sceptre provided his life were spared, and a competent 
 
 maintenance assured to him. No answer was returned to these 
 
 stipulations, but on the following day the deposed Emperor was 
 
 confined to one of the lower apartments of the Seraglio, and Shah 
 
 Jehan proclaimed Emperor, with almost universal consent; such 
 
 is human tergiversation ! The people have no lasting affection 
 
 for sovereigns. The favourite of to-day is an object of hatred 
 
 to-moiTOw — 
 
 Within the hollow crown 
 TIaat rounds the mortal temples of a king, 
 Death keeps his court. 
 
 Dawir Buxsh, who had been lately raised to a throne ami(/ 
 popular acclamation, was now hurled from his elevation, and more 
 an object of pity than the meanest among those whom he had so 
 lately governed. His cruelty to the unhappy Shariar too late filled
 
 THE PRINCE AND THE FAKEER. 423 
 
 him with remorse. The death of that Sultan's daughter tortured 
 his memory with a thousand bitter pangs. He saw that his fate 
 was determined on, and the hngering desire of Ufe made him look 
 forward to death with horror. 
 
 On the morning after his uncle's accession to the throne of the 
 Vioguls, two eunuchs entered the prison of Dawir Buxsh ; he im- 
 
 ediately knew that he was to die, and throwing himself upon his 
 Knees, was strangled whilst in the act of putting up a prayer to 
 Heaven. The aspiration was cut short by the bow-string, and 
 ■^ultan Shariar and his daughter were both x^ully avenged.
 
 Clje §mxnlfB ^mx^l^Ux. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LODY CHAN was seated in the veranda of his' palace, 
 smoking his hookah, and enjoying the luxury of repose 
 which that exquisite instrument is so admirably calculated to 
 induce. Behind him stood a tall attendant dressed in a tunic of 
 gxeen cloth, his waist encircled by a red cummerbund, his head 
 surmounted with a bright yellow turban, undulating a yak's tail 
 over his master, to prevent mosquitos from sounding in his ears 
 their little note of warning, or fixing their fine taper antennae into 
 those rich conduits through which the currents of life meander in 
 ten thousand Avinding avenues to and from the heart. Beside this 
 man stood another attendant, somewhat differently clad as to 
 colour, but precisely similar in costume, waving a punka beside the 
 Chan, in order to break the stagnation of the hot air of noon, in a 
 shade where the thermometer would stand at ninety-eight degrees. 
 Lody was seated upon a carpet from the valued looms of Persia ; 
 beside him stood a goblet of Shiraz wine, and at his right hand a 
 matchlock, its stock richly inlaid with gold. From the eaves of 
 the veranda fell a silk awning, which was lowered when the sun 
 .slanted its level rays above the horizon in its early rising, or 
 flooded the plain with its departing glories, ere it sank behind the 
 broad ocean. This awning was brocaded with the precious metals 
 from the celebrated bazaars of Ispahan, unrivalled throughout the 
 East for the richness of its tissues. The walls were panelled with 
 polished ste-'l, which multiplied the reflection of every object near,
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 423 
 
 iind seemed to give an almost interminable space to the balconies 
 by which the palace was surrounded. Arms, burnished with a care 
 that showed how highly they were prized, hung from the pilasters 
 which supported the projecting roof of the veranda, and various 
 emblems of war were distributed around, with a profusion and an 
 attention to effect, which sufficiently evinced how familiar the lord 
 of this palace was with that bane of peace upon earth of which 
 it has been too truly said, and but too little heeded, that 
 
 War's a game 
 Which, were their subjects wise, kings would not play at. 
 
 Everything around the palace of Chan Lody attested his pre- 
 dilection for this most desperate game of chance that man can 
 engage in. He was one of the greatest warriors of his day. Being 
 a descendant of the imperial family of Lody, he felt anxious to 
 maintain the dignity of his house; but though glory was the fierce 
 aim of his ambition, he never tarnished it by an act of dishonour. 
 He was indeed an ambitious prince, but a generous soldier and a 
 virtuous man. 
 
 Whilst he sat drawing through the golden mouthpiece of his 
 beautifully embossed hookah the exhalations of a richly aromatic 
 chillam, a stranger was announced desiring to have an interview 
 with the Chan. 
 
 "Admit him," said Lody to the attendant, who instantly with- 
 drew, and shortly returned, ushering in the stranger. 
 
 The latter appeared to be a youth of noble deportment and 
 gallant bearing. He was evidently in the dawn of manhood, but 
 had all its best attributes legibly recorded on his clear open brow 
 and small decided features. Lody's eye relaxed into a faint yet 
 bright smile as he bent it upon the noble stranger, whose salutation 
 he returned with much courtesy. 
 
 " Chan Lody," said the youth, "you are aware that the Emperor 
 Jehangire is in paradise ; a usurper, aided by the influence of the 
 Sultana, is upon the throne : the Sultan, Shah Jehan, now lawful 
 sovereign of the Moguls, is on his march to vindicate his rights and 
 seize the imperial sceptre : his route lies through your territories.
 
 426 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 through which he demands your permission to pass, and a safe 
 conduct. What answer shall I return, Chan Lody ?" 
 
 Lody's brow became suddenly overcast ; and he said bitterly, 
 '* Princes who solicit favours should know how to bestow them." 
 
 " Is this the answer I am to return to the Sultan ?" 
 
 " No j when you have refreshed yourself with food and rest, T 
 will give you my answer at length." 
 
 "Is it hostile or peaceable?" 
 
 " You will know when you receive it." 
 
 " Chan Lody, I accept not the hospitality of an enemy. If you 
 deny what I come to solicit, I quit your presence with a full and 
 unqualified defiance ; if you grant it, I will eat your salt with joy, 
 and the Prophet's blessing will requite you for the boon." 
 
 " Young man, your defiance or your blessing is to me alike 
 indifferent. I have no desire that you should either eat my salt 
 or make my palace a place of rest. Bear my answer to your 
 master. I grant no safe conduct to rebels. A rebellious son 
 cannot be a just prince. I would rather see the enemy at my 
 gates, than Shah Jehan Emperor of the Moguls." 
 
 " A time may come when Chan Lody will be glad to forget 
 that he has dared to insult his sovereign." 
 
 Saying this, the youthful messenger turned upon his heel and 
 was about to depart, but the Chan ordered him to be detained ; 
 then, by way of adding contempt to his refusal, the indignant 
 Omrah commanded the dress of a menial to be brought, and 
 filling a small bag with rupees, he charged the sultan's envoy to 
 deliver them, together with an old lean horse, to his master. 
 
 The young man departed ; and meeting a shepherd at some 
 short distance from Burhampoor, gave him the dress, the rupees, 
 and the horse, bidding him deliver them to Chan Lody with 
 this message : — that Prince Morad, son of the Emperor Shah 
 Jehan, returned the gift designed for his royal parent, as the 
 giver might one day need a beggar's boon, since adversity was 
 generally the lot of insolent nobles and disaffected subjects. 
 
 The shepherd, not considering himself bound by the laws of 
 honour, and not being harassed by delicate scruples, appropriated
 
 THE OM RAM'S DAUGHTER. 427 
 
 the dress, rupees, and horse to his own purposes. What to one 
 man was an offence, was to another a blessing. 
 
 Morad, galled by the indignity which had been so wantonly 
 offered to him, proceeded towards his father's encampment. On 
 er-icrging from a thick forest upon an extensive plain, he saw a 
 party at some distance advancing in the direction of the jungle. 
 As they approached nearer, he perceived a palankeen accompanied 
 by a numerous train of attendants. Before they had reached the 
 path which led into the forest, a wild elephant started from the 
 thicket, and rushed with a short shrill cry towards the approaching 
 cavalcade. Terrified at the sight of such a huge foe, the atten- 
 dants dispersed ; and the bearers laying down the palankeen, fled 
 in different directions. The elephant advanced with an aspect of 
 deadly hostility towards the palankeen, vv'hich, as Morad perceived, 
 from the curtains being closely drawn round it, contained a female ; 
 and, from the number of her attendants, it was evident that she 
 was a female of rank. Unappalled by the danger, he darted 
 forward ; and being nearer the palankeen than the elephant, came 
 up with the animal before it could reach its victim. Striking it 
 with his sword just above the knee joint of the right leg behind, 
 he at once disabled it, and diverted its attention from the object 
 of attack. The huge creature immediately uttered a scream of 
 agony, and turned upon Morad ! but unable to use the wounded 
 limb, its movements were slow and embarrassed : Morad, there- 
 fore, had no difficulty in evading its assault by actively running 
 behind it, and seizing his opportunity, he inflicted another wound 
 on the other hind leg, which rendered the elephant unable to do 
 mischief. It rolled upon the earth : and Morad calling upon his 
 attendants to approach, took a matchlock, and placing the muzzle 
 to the ear of the huge beast, sent a bullet into its brain. The 
 animal uttered a short loud roar, and died. 
 
 Meanwhile the lady had quitted her palankeen, and stood before 
 her youthful deliverer in the beaming lustre of her beauty. Her 
 countenance was calm and unruffled, and her dark eye was fixed 
 upon tlie dead elephant with an expression of resolute satisf;iction 
 that showed how little she had been disturbed by the past danger.
 
 -128 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 She made a graceful salaam of acknowledgment ; and, beckoning 
 with an air of haughty command to her attendants, thanked her 
 deliverer with a somewhat lofty courtesy, and, inviting him to 
 return to her father's palace, entered her palankeen. Morad, who 
 had been struck with her beauty, learned in a few words that she 
 was the daughter of Chan Lody. Notwithstanding the late dis- 
 courtesies which had passed between them, and the insult offered 
 to his parent, he determined to escort the lovely girl to her father's 
 dwelling. He had been charmed with the beautiful countenance 
 and magnanimous bearing of the Chan's daughter, and now felt 
 really anxious that a better understanding should exist between 
 her parent and his own. He therefore returned with her to Bur- 
 hampoor. On reaching Chan Lody's palace, the lady wished 
 Morad to enter, in order that he might receive her father's acknow- 
 ledgments for the signal service he had rendered his child. 
 
 ** Lady," said the prince, " I am the son of Shah Jehan, to 
 whom your father refuses a passage through his dominions. I can- 
 not again enter the presence of one who has denied my parent 
 and his sovereign so poor a boon." 
 
 "Life, prince, is a valueless possession, miless we hold it on 
 those terms which make it worth the prizing ; and, believe me, I 
 would rather mine were forfeited than be indebted for its preserva- 
 tion to a scion of Chan Lody's foe. You, however, have con- 
 ferred the obligation nobly, at the risk of your own ; my courtesy, 
 therefore, is the least I can offer you. Enter, and I will take 
 upon me to secure for you my father's hospitality, who could not 
 but be happy to entertain his daughter's deliverer." 
 
 " I should be sorry to test the hospitality of a man whose heart 
 would be at variance with his urbanity. For what I have done, 
 the approbation of my own conscience is a sufficient reward ; and 
 your courtesy has cancelled whatever obligation you may have 
 considered yourself under to me. But perhaps you will do me 
 the favour to tell Chan Lody that he is indebted for his daughter's 
 life to the son of Shah Jehan." 
 
 The lovely Jahanira a moment bent her piercing eye upon 
 Morad, and said, in a tone of proud dignity, " Our acquaintance
 
 THE OMR AH' S DAUGHTER. 429 
 
 then Avill end here, since you refuse the hospitaUty which has been 
 at U ast courteously oftered ; but I am your debtor, and shall, I 
 trust, live to cancel my debt. Farewell !" 
 
 She entered the palace, and Morad retraced his steps. As he 
 pursued his journey towards his father's tents, he could not help 
 reflecting on the sublime beauty of Chan Lody's daughter. She 
 was evidently a woman of a lofty and indomitable spirit. Her 
 parent's dauntless soul beamed in her full black eyes, and her 
 small budding mouth, the lips of which met each other with a 
 firm compression that seemed to mock the tenderness of a more 
 gentle contact, showed there was a high resolve within her which 
 nothing short of death could subdue, Morad was young and 
 ardent. His whole soul quivered like a sunbeam at the bare 
 thought of an enterprise that should cast a halo of glory around 
 it and his bosom glowed with germane sympathy, where he 
 beheld any symptom of feeling congenial with his own. The 
 stern refusal of Chan Lody had roused his indignation ; the proud 
 spirit of his daughter had won him to a gentler mood, and her 
 beauty ratified what her lofty bearing had expressed. 
 
 When he entered his father's presence, he reported the Omrah's 
 refusal, but withheld the indignities with which it had been accom- 
 panied. Shah Jehan was mortified and indignant at this issue of his 
 embassy to the haughty noble of Burhampoor ; and, breaking up his 
 camp, he proceeded to the capital by another route. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WITHIN a few weeks after the events related in the preceding 
 chapter, Chan Lody was apprised of Shah Jehan's accession 
 lo tlie imperial throne. He was too powerful an Omrah not to be 
 ^onciliated ; the Emperor, therefore, despatched his son Morad 
 with a message to invite Lody to visit the capital, promising him 
 oblivion of all past indignities, with assurances of future fiivour. 
 Vhe Chan, trusting to the dignity of his own character, and his
 
 43« THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 influence among the nobles, who honoured him as a man of lofty 
 courage and impregnable integrity, consented at once to repair to 
 Agra with his family, considering that his presence at the seat of 
 government might be of some advantage to the state, as he was 
 determined to watch with jealous scrutiny the motions of the reign- 
 ing sovereign, to whose accession he had always been vehemently 
 hostile. He, however, received Morad with courteous hospitality, 
 as the saviour of his daughter's life ; and the young prince, remem- 
 bering the impression which the lovely Jahanira had made upon 
 him, offered himself to the father as her suitor. This was an alliance 
 not at all coveted by Chan Lody, who, though he was by no means 
 wanting in ambition, bore nevertheless too great an antipathy to 
 the reigning Emperor to be desirous of a family connexion with him. 
 
 " My daughter," said he to Morad, "is the person most concerned 
 in this matter. You must consult her. She knows my wishes and 
 her own. Whatever her choice may be, I shall not obstruct it 
 When you have gained her consent, I shall not withhold mine." 
 
 Morad obtained an interview, and made his proposals. Jahanira 
 paused, and surveyed him with a calm countenance, yet every 
 feature radiant with that mind of which they were all most eloquent 
 interpreters. After an earnest, but still respectful, scrutiny, she 
 replied, " Prince, you are of noble birth, and therefore an alliance 
 with you could not dishonour me ; you are of a manly and agree- 
 able person ; you have the reputation of being brave, generous, 
 just, and, in short, of possessing all the best qualities that belong 
 to great and good men ; personally, therefore, I cannot object to 
 you as the disposer of my future life. Moreover, you have saved 
 that life ; gratitude, consequently, would induce me to accede to 
 any honourable proposal which you could make me : but my father 
 and yours bear a deep enmity against each other, and this is an 
 impassable bar to such an alliance as you seek between the house 
 Df Timour and that of Lody." 
 
 Morad was mortified at this rejection, and returned to Agra 
 with the poison of disappointment rankling in his bosom. He 
 kept the matter secret from his royal parent, who, he knew, 
 would have felt the greatest indignation at his having made such
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER, 431 
 
 a proposal to the daughter of a man who had treated him with 
 offensive indignity. 
 
 Shortly after this, Chan Lody arrived with his family at Agra^ 
 IP'^. took up his abode in a large house surrounded by strong and 
 lofty walls, not far from the palace. A few days after his arrival, 
 he appeared at court, attended by his two sons. He was received 
 by the Emperor with constrained courtesy, which satisfied him that 
 the royal forgiveness so solemnly pledged to him was hollow and 
 unsound. He was obliged to perform certain ceremonies which he 
 considered not consistent with his rank and influence in the state ; 
 but seeing the impolicy of resistance at that moment, he patiently 
 submitted to the indignity, though he clearly perceived that it 
 was meant as a tacit retaliation. His son Azmut, a fine spirited 
 youth of sixteen, followed his father into the hall of audience. 
 The usher Perist, keeping him prostrate before the sovereign 
 longer than the customary ceremony required, Azmut started up 
 from the ground, sprang upon his feet, and was about to turn his 
 back upon the royal presence when Perist struck him smartly 
 upon the head with his rod, and ordered him in a peremptory 
 tone, again to prostrate himself The boy's spirit was kindled ; 
 with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks he drew his sword, and 
 made a stroke at the usher's head, which would have proved fatal, 
 had not his weapon been struck down by some of the guards, 
 who, on state occasions, were always in attendance in the courts 
 of Mogul potentates, 
 
 Lody, suspecting that his life was aimed at, drew his dagger ; 
 and his two sons, placing themselves on either side of their father, 
 with their weapons bared, produced a scene of general consterna- 
 tion. Many of the Omrahs unsheathed their swords, but the known 
 valour of Chan Lody kept them in awe. The Emperor leaped from 
 his throne, and ordered the refractory noble to be seized, together 
 with his sons. One of the mace-bearers, who happened to be near 
 Azmut, laid hold of him, but the youth instantly buried a crease in 
 his throat. The confusion increased. Two Omrahs fell beneath 
 the arm of Chan Lody, who, rushing from the presence, followed 
 by hN sons, sought refuge in his own house, and ordered the gates
 
 433 THE OMRAH'S DA UGHTER. 
 
 to be instantly closed. He was proclaimed a rebel, and orders 
 issued for his immediate apprehension ; but the house to which 
 he had repaired was so strongly fortified, that the fulfilment of the 
 royal mandate was anything but an easy matter. 
 
 The Emperor's rage was now at its height; all his former 
 hostility revived in full force, and he determined that the re- 
 fractory Omrah should pay the extreme penalty of his rashness. 
 He commanded Morad to besiege him in his castle. The latter, 
 though he had scarcely recovered from the mortification to which 
 he had been subjected by the beautiful but haughty daughter of 
 the refractory noble, nevertheless undertook the command with 
 some reluctance, respecting the virtues of the man whom, though 
 he certainly did not love, he nevertheless could not despise. 
 
 The house was invested ; and the rebel, as Chan Lody was 
 l^ronounced to be, summoned to surrender. He returned an 
 answer of defiance. In reply to Morad's summons, he appeared 
 with his sons and daughter upon the walls, and said, pointing to 
 the latter, "You shall receive our answer from the lips of a 
 woman, but that woman the daughter of Chan Lody." — " Prince 
 Morad," said Jahanira, advancing to the very edge of the wall, 
 " the brave never succumb to tyranny. Life is really only enjoyed 
 by the free ; and tyrants grant not liberty when they can exercise 
 their power upon those who do not acknowledge it We are re- 
 solved never to yield. Prince Morad ; and even if your legions 
 should overwhelm us, I need not remind you that the brave 
 have a certain refuge in death." 
 
 The siege was pursued by Morad with such vigour for several 
 days, that it was evident the besieged must shortly capitulate. 
 Lody was embarrassed. He saw that there remained only one 
 course — to cut his way through the enemy, and escape to Malwa. 
 Desperate as the attempt was, he resolved to make it on the 
 following morning. His sons and daughter determined to ac- 
 company him. in his perilous flight. He communicated his in- 
 tention to his women and the various members of his family, 
 most of whom, he said, he must leave to the imperial mercy. 
 Tears and groans followed the communication, but there was no
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER 433 
 
 alternative betwixt death and captivity. He endeavoured to 
 persuade his women that they, at least, would be treated with 
 clemency. They answered with him renewed tears. He turned 
 from them in an agony of grief; but his determination was taken, 
 and, retiring to his apartment, he gave vent to the overflow of his 
 feelings. Calling his three sons, he arranged with them the time 
 for the desperate sally which was to be made on the following 
 morning. His daughter, whom he loved as a son, and perfectly 
 adored for the elevated heroism of her character, was present at 
 this arrangement, and they finally separated for the night. 
 
 Lody could not sleep, and quitted his chamber to break the 
 gloomy train of his thoughts. He passed into a large court, which 
 was flanked by the women's apartments. The night was dark, the 
 sky overcast, and the whole aspect of nature seemed to suit the 
 gloomy habit of his soul. The dew fell heavily, but it cooled his 
 fevered brow. As he passed by the apartments of his women, he 
 heard groans as of persons in agony. He stopped to listen — they 
 were repeated ; there could be no mistaking the sound. His 
 heart throbbed audibly. He entered — listened — all was still; 
 every light had been extinguished. He passed through the 
 different chambers, but there was no sound. He called upon 
 several, who were wont to answer his summons with a ready 
 alacrity ; there was no reply. What could be the cause ? 
 Horrible, but indefinite, suspicions crowded upon his mind. He 
 at length entered into an inner apartment, and, stumbling over 
 some obstacle, fell upon his face. He arose, and, in a small 
 ante-chamber, perceived a light glimmering faintly behind a curtain. 
 Upon removing the drapery, he perceived the dead body of a 
 female favourite. He raised the lamp from the floor, and saw that 
 his hands and dress were stained with blood. Returning to the 
 chamber in which he had fallen, a sad revelation of the mystery of 
 the groans and succeeding silence was made horribly manifest. 
 The floor was covered with gore, which still feebly Avelled from 
 the bosoms of several women, in whom life was yet scarcely 
 extinct. Every member of his harem was dead, or in the last 
 pangs of dissolution. They had considered suicide as the prefer- 
 
 IN'LUA. Y p
 
 434 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 able alternative to falling into the power of those who were enemies 
 to Chan Lody. 
 
 The sight was overpowering. The sacrifice had been noble, 
 but it poured a tide of agony through the bosom of him for whom 
 it was so unanimously made. The mothers of his children lay 
 dead among the lifeless forms before him. He looked upon them, 
 and, after the first terrible burst of grief had subsided, he uttered 
 a vow of deep and implacable revenge. Summoning his children, 
 they joined in his vow. Jahanira embraced hei mother's corpse, 
 and supplicated vengeance upon the heads of those who had forced 
 her to self-immolation. 
 
 Tears rolled over Lod/s cheeks, but he dashed them off, and 
 called upon his children to assist him in performing the obsequies 
 of the dead. His eye dilated with an expression of energetic 
 resolution as he raised the bodies from their gory beds, wrapped 
 them in clean linen, and, assisted by his sons, carried them into a 
 garden beyond the court, where, having hastily dug a large hole, 
 they buried them in one common grave. There was no prayer 
 uttered — no ritual form observed — but the fervent aspiration of 
 earnest and sorrowful hearts went up as a memorial to God. 
 
 As they quitted the garden, the young dawn began to glimmer 
 in the east. Lody summoned his followers ; though few, they 
 were determined. It was a desperate cast, but the late scene had 
 given an impulse to the spirits of each and all. The danger of 
 the enterprise vanished before the daring which impelled him, and 
 those who were so dear to him, to brave the peril, and either 
 secure their escape or perish. 
 
 On a sudden, the gates were thrown open. Lody rushed out, 
 follov/ed by his three sons and his daughter, who spurred their 
 horses towards the city walls. The imperial troops were struck 
 with awe at the daring of this small but determined band. They 
 swept onward like the whirlwind ; all who opposed them were cuv 
 down. The light was still so imperfect, that the imperial troops, 
 being suddenly roused by this unexpected assault, were confused, 
 and fell before the swords of Lody and his followers, who finally 
 succeeded in cutting their way through their foes, and escaping by 
 the city gates.
 
 435 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE conflict between the followers of Chan Lody and the 
 imperial troops had been short but desperate. Many of 
 the latter, taken by surprise, were slain, whilst scarcely one of the 
 assailants lost his life. Jahanira, upon a small roan Arab, rode 
 immediately behind her father, through the thickest of the enemy. 
 She dyed her virgin sword in blood. Just as she had reached the 
 gate, Morad intercepted her passage. 
 
 " You have no further chance of escape," he cried, attempting 
 to seized the reins of her steed ; but she, striking her heels into the 
 animal's side, caused it to rear, and thus prevented Morad's in- 
 tention. 
 
 By this time the whole of her party had escaped, and she alone 
 remained within the walls. A soldier now grasping the reins of 
 her horse, she instantly severed his arm at the ^vl■ist with a 
 single stroke of her keen Damascus sabre. The man, exasperated, 
 urged a comrade to cut her down. The latter sprang forward, but 
 she met him as he advanced, and buried her weapon in his throat 
 Morad commanded that the troops should retire, and urged his 
 charger towards Jahanira. 
 
 " Lady, you are our prisoner." 
 
 " Never !" cried Jahanira, drawing a dagger. " I will not sui 
 vive captivity. Open yonder gates, and allow me to follow my 
 father, or I will leave you only my body for the gratification of 
 your revenge. You shall never take me alive !" 
 
 " Nay, this intemperance ill befits a daughter of the illustrious 
 house of Lody. None but cowards die to escape the shocks of 
 destiny." 
 
 " And none but cowards submit to the caprices of tyrants. You 
 once preserved my life ; but if you intend to inthral the life you 
 saved, all obligation is cancelled between us, and I now dare you 
 to mortal combat ; for, woman as I am, you shall find me no con- 
 temptible competitor." 
 
 F F 2
 
 436 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 She spurred her Arab towards Morad and made a stroke at his 
 head ; but he suddenly reined back his horse and avoided the 
 blow, which fell upon the animal's neck. It plunged violently, 
 and the prince had great difficulty in evading the fierce onset of 
 his beautiful antagonist, who at length wounded him in the arm ; 
 and seeing several horsemen approach to the aid of their general, 
 she urged her little roan charger towards the gate. Morad, 
 charaied with her heroism, ordered it to be opened; when, 
 bounding through the portal with the swiftness of an arrow, she 
 soon joined her father and brothers about four leagues from the 
 city. 
 
 The Emperor having been roused by the sudden shouts of the 
 fugitive and his followers, as they made their unexpected eruption 
 iom the castle, started from his bed, and seizing a sword, sent 
 ynessengers to ascertain the cause ; apprehending an insurrection 
 of the citizens in favour of Chan Lody, who was extremely 
 popular among them. On ascertaining that the Omrah had 
 escaped, he despatched a large body of troops, headed by Perist, 
 the usher, who was accompanied by several other nobles of dis- 
 tinction, and ordered to bring back the fugitives to the city either 
 dead or alive. 
 
 Perist, eager to punish Azmut for the attack made upon him 
 by that young warrior in the Emperor's presence, readily under- 
 took the command, and promised that before the waning of 
 another moon the heads of his master's enemies should either be 
 blackening on the walls of Agra, or their bodies bound in chains 
 within the state prisons. This empty boast satisfied Shah Jehan, 
 who well knew the usher's hostility to the family of Lody, which 
 he would have been willing to exterminate, even at the sacrifice of 
 his own life. 
 
 Perist was a Calmuc Tartar, of amazing power of body, and no 
 less intrepidity of spirit, who had raised himself to distinction in 
 the imperial army by his gigantic strength and desperate valour. 
 He had risen from a low station in uic army to one of high dis- 
 tinction in the state, and this had emboldened him to seek an 
 alliance that should perpetuate his name. The lovely Jahanira
 
 THE OM RAM'S DAUGHIER. 437 
 
 had long been the theme of public panegyric, and the reputation 
 of her beauty, together with her illustrious descent, made him 
 desire to become united with this distinguished maiden. 
 
 Without having seen the object of his ambitious aspiring, but 
 relying upon the reports of her high qualities, he sent his pro- 
 posals, which were rejected with scorn. This roused the malignity 
 of the Tartar. To be contemned by a woman was an injury never 
 to be forgotten ; and he meditated a distant but signal revenge. 
 He expected that his treatment of the fiery young Azmut would 
 rouse the indignation of his family, and most probably excite them 
 to acts of violence. It had happened precisely as he had fore- 
 seen, and he now gladly seized the opportunity of following up ta 
 its issue the plan of retribution which he had so warily laid. He 
 was not a man to let his resolution lie in abeyance until chance 
 concurred to elicit the desired result; but he had that energy of 
 malice which tries every hazard, however desperate, to realize the 
 consummation of its most atrocious purposes. 
 
 Lody had well weighed the chances of pursuit ; and knowing 
 the fierce hostility with which the usher regarded him, had calcu- 
 lated the probability of being followed by his ancient foe. He 
 urged forward his little band for fifteen leagues without halting, 
 and was then stopped by a river. It was broad and rapid, and so 
 swollen by recent rains, that to cross it seemed utterly impracti- 
 cable. It flowed onward in a wide turbid stream, broken every 
 now and then into small whirling eddies by the rapidity of its pro- 
 gress, and thus became so agitated, that there appeared no chance 
 of stemming its tumultuous current. There was not a boat to be 
 seen ; all had been carried down the stream by the impetuosity of 
 the torrent : and a wooden bridge was swept away by the extra- 
 ordinary pressure of its augmented waters, which in several places 
 overflowed their banks and inundated the country, except upon 
 the higher grounds, to a distance of several miles. 
 
 This was a melancholy impediment. Here was a check which 
 bid fair to frustrate their escape, but there was no choice ; and 
 with a foreboding heart Chan Lody and his faithful adherents 
 encamped for the night upon the banks of the river. He threw
 
 «8 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER, 
 
 himself upon a nig to snatch a short repose after the bodily 
 fatigue and mental excitement of the last twenty -four hours. His 
 reflections were sad and harassing. The scene of the past night 
 recurred to his mind with sickening vividness, and painful recol- 
 lections swept over it with the might and suddenness of the 
 ivhirlwind. The perilous situation in which he stood, perplexed 
 and agitated him. He had but a few followers to oppose to the 
 ?arge body of troops which he was certain would be sent against 
 him. The swollen state of the river forbad the possibility of 
 flight, and the small number of his adherents banished every 
 chance of successful resistance. For himself he entertained no 
 apprehensions ; but Avhen he thought of his children, an involun- 
 tary pang, which he could not repress, shook his frame. 
 
 In proportion, however, as his reflections magnified the dangers 
 by which he was surrounded, his spirit rose, and finally settled 
 into a determination of resistance which nothing could disturb. 
 Prepared to meet the worst emergencies of the morrow, he at 
 length sank into a profound slumber, which was increased by 
 that reaction of repose after excitement, which invariably follows 
 the tension of mind produced by extreme mental disturbance. 
 
 He awoke with the dawn : and upon quitting his tent was 
 informed that the imperial troops were in full march towards him. 
 He immediately summoned his sons and daughter; and repre- 
 senting the utter impossibility of escape, asked them if they would 
 wish to throw themselves upon the enemy's clemency ? — that for 
 himself he was resolved to die in arms. Hussein, the eldest son, 
 swore he would follow his father's fortune, and perish rather than 
 fall into the hands of a conqueror. Azmut made the same solemn 
 vow. 
 
 " And you, my child," said Chan Lody, addressing his daughter, 
 " what reason is there that you should not live to form an alliance, 
 which might perpetuate the race of Lody, with a man, perhaps, 
 that would vindicate thy father's wrong ?" 
 
 " Because," replied the noble girl, throwing herself upon her 
 parent's bosom, " I am from a stock that has ever preferred death
 
 THE OMRAirS DAUGHTER. 439 
 
 to captivity. There is no sex in soul ; and I feel mine to be as 
 capable of those deeds which will excite unborn ages to noble 
 emulation as they who exclusively claim the privilege of per- 
 forming them. I am resolved to perish with the enemy's blood 
 upon my -sword, and will dye this dagger with my own rather than 
 accept the clemency of tyrants." 
 
 The father embraced her : and having summoned his small but 
 resolute band, declared to them his determination of dying in 
 arms rather than yield to the approaching foe. This resolution 
 was hailed with a cheer, and the troops prepared for action. 
 I'here was a pass between two hills in their rear which opened 
 into a narrow plain. Of this pass Chan Lody took possession, 
 and he had scarcely disposed his order of battle, when the van of 
 the imperialists appeared advancing along a rising valley. His 
 position was a very strong one, being accessible only in front ; 
 the river, which so effectually cut off his retreat, as effectually 
 covering his rear. 
 
 The imperial army amounted to upwards of eight thousand 
 men; Chan Lody's did not exceed as many hundreds. The 
 enemy advanced leisurely onward, and halted within about two 
 furlongs from the pass where the fugitives were so advantageously 
 posted. A message was immediately despatched to Chan Lody, 
 summoning him to surrender. He returned a reply of haughty 
 defiance, and the Emperor's troops advanced to the charge. They 
 were so warmly received that, after a short but vigorous struggle, 
 they were obliged to fall back. Though considerably dispirited 
 by this repulse, relying upon their numbers, they again advanced 
 to the charge with like success. 
 
 These attacks were several times repeated with a similar result, 
 until evening terminated the conflict, when the imperialists retired 
 within their camp on the slope of a neighbouring hill. They had 
 suffered severely ; upwards of twelve hundred men having been 
 slain, and nearly double that number wounded. Chan Lody's 
 band had likewise suffered severely. Not more than a hundred 
 and fifty remained unhurt. Three hundred were killed, and
 
 440 THE OM RAM'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 many more desperately wounded ; so that he had noth>ng more 
 consolatory to look forward to than their utter extermination, as 
 soon as the sanguinary conflict should be renewed. 
 
 It was a gloomy prospect. A council was held among the 
 siu-vivors, who unanimously declared their resolution to fight to 
 the last extremity ; but Hussein and Azmut both proposed that 
 their father should attempt the river, and they would secure his 
 retreat. 
 
 " My father," said Hussein, "you may still live to avenge your 
 wrongs. Besides, you have been severely wounded in the action 
 of to-day, and your death will therefore be rather a suicide than a 
 sacrifice, if you expose yourself merely to court destruction. You 
 cannot, in your present state, endure the exertion of another 
 conflict. Try the river ; your steed is stout, and may bear you 
 to the shore in safety ; we will cover your retreat." 
 
 "The danger is equal," repHed Lody; "but it is more 
 honourable to die on the field than in the river." 
 
 Still they urged his retreat. " But can I fly and leave my 
 children ? No ! I will perish on this field. I will never leave my 
 brave sons to meet an honourable death and live to become a 
 mere man of sorrows." 
 
 It was at length agreed, after considerable difficulty, that Chan 
 Lody and one of his sons and daughter should try the river, and 
 the other remain behind to keep the enemy in check until the 
 fugitives had gained the opposite shore. 
 
 When this was determined, they separated for the night. 
 With early dawn the brothers were at their posts. As the light 
 was gradually stretching over the distant plain in a broad grey 
 stream, a dispute arose between them which should attack the 
 enemy. Whilst, however, the generous altercation was going on, 
 Perist, who had struck Azmut in the Emperor's presence, appeared 
 at the head of the imperialists. 
 
 " It is decided," said Azmut ; " there is my enemy, — especially 
 and personally mine. Hussein, you would not interfere with 
 your brother's privilege to redress his own wrongs. Fly with my 
 father, and leave me to my revenge."
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 441 
 
 Saying this, he spurred his horse forward; and his father, 
 joined by Hussein, plunged into the river. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CHAN LODY and his son Hussein had great difficulty in 
 stemming the rapid current. Their horses were carried a 
 considerable distance down the stream, and almost exhausted 
 before they reached the opposite bank ; fortunately, the channel 
 was so full that the water was on a level with the land. When 
 tlieyhad made good their transit, they shouted to apprise the 
 generous Azmut of their safety, whom, however, they did not see ; 
 for he was engaged in that perilous onset of destruction to which 
 he had so heroically devoted himself. 
 
 The father's distress was great when he perceived that Jahanira 
 had not followed them. He concluded that, fearing to encounter the 
 peril of crossing the river, she had resolved to throw herself upon 
 the clemency of the conquerors ; for the defeat of her brother and 
 his small band was certain. Such a resolution, however, was so 
 contrary to her nature that he rejected the supposition almost as 
 soon as he had formed it, and came to the final conclusion that 
 she had determined to share the fate of Azmut. The anxious 
 father hoped, that, should they hear his shouts of safety, they 
 would immediately fly from the unequal contest, and attempt the 
 passage of the river, as he and his elder son had done with 
 unexpected success. 
 
 He was not far from right in his judgment concerning Jahanira ; 
 she had remained with Azmut, resolved either to perish or 
 escape Avith them. No sooner had Chan Lody and Hussein 
 plunged into the stream than Azmut spurred towards the impe- 
 rialists, who were advancing slowly towards the pass. Seeing him 
 approach, Perist ordered his army to halt, determined to have the 
 satisfaction of slaying him with his own arm. Jahanira had 
 armed herself with a bow and arrows. Following her brother, she
 
 «4a THE OM RAM'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 paused when she saw his foe shigly advance to meet him. '"rPhe 
 hardy Cahnuc, confiding in his own strength, awaited wit.r a 
 smile of anticipated triumph the coming onset of his mipatient 
 enemy. 
 
 Azmut was rejoiced to see the halt of the imperial army, as it 
 would render secure the retreat of his father and brother, provided 
 the current of the river did not prove too strong for them. Being 
 upon a light active horse, he passed the usher at speed, and striking 
 at him in full career, inflicted a deep gash on his knee. The Tartar 
 turned, and Azmut wheeling at the same moment, their horses met 
 with a tremendous shock, and the light charger of the latter rolled 
 upon the plain. Its rider was upon his feet in an instant. Perist 
 spurred towards him, but he parried a furious stroke, at the same 
 time springing actively on one side, as his huge adversary attempted 
 to ride him down. His danger, however, was imminent, and the 
 moment critical. Jahanira beheld the peril of her beloved brother. 
 She placed an arrow upon the string of her bow. The Tartar had 
 again advanced upon Azmut, and as he raised his heavy sabre to 
 bury it in the body of his youthful opponent, a shaft, sped with 
 unerring aim, entered his temple, and he dropped dead at his 
 horse's feet. 
 
 Azmut saw from whence the succour came, waved his arm in 
 token of acknowledgment, and retreated towards the pass ; but 
 being on foot, he was overtaken by a party of the enemy's 
 cavalry before he could reach his followers. The latter, however, 
 rushed forward to his rescue, and for some time a desperate strug- 
 gle ensued ; it was short and decisive. Overwhelmed by numbers, 
 the fugitives were cut off to a man. Azmut slew two Omrahs with 
 his own hands, but was transfixed by a lance as he was in the act 
 of bringing his sword upon the crest of a third. An arrow from 
 the bow of his heroic sister entered the bosom of his destroyer, 
 and she had the satisfaction of witnessing his death-pang while she 
 beheld that of her brother. 
 
 Seeing that all v/as lost, and hearing her father's shouts, she 
 spurred her horse towards the river, discharging several arrows in 
 her flight at the pursuing squadron ; the enemy expected that the
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 443 
 
 water would arrest her flight, and therefore slackened their speed 
 as they approached ; but to their amazement she dashed fearlessly 
 in, and pushed bravely for the opposite shore, upon which stood 
 her father and only surviving brother. 
 
 The enemy halted upon the bank in amazement, not daring to 
 attempt the passage. The turbid waters rolled rapidly on, foam- 
 ing and hissing in their way, as they were occasionally interrupted 
 in their course by the partial sinuosities of the channel. Her 
 horse was slight, but full of fire, and pawed the turbulent stream 
 with an impatient but resolute spirit. The undaunted girl was 
 frequen-tly sucked down by the eddies, but slie maintained her 
 seat and rose above them with an intrepidity that amazed while it 
 mortified her hostile spectators. Vexed that she should have eluded 
 them, several archers discharged their arrows at her as she was 
 struggling amidst the perilous element. One shaft hit her on the 
 turban ; this being saturated, repelled it ; but such was the force 
 with which the arrow had been urged, that the turban was struck 
 from her head, exposing it to the cowardly aim of her incensed 
 foes. 
 
 By this time she had passed the middle of the channel where 
 the current was strongest, and thus somewhat abated the chances 
 of perishing amidst the troubled waters. Her enemies still con- 
 tinuing to discharge their arrows, as if in derision of their impotent 
 malice, she raised herself in her stirrup, threw back her long 
 raven hair which streamed around her like a fine sable fringe, and 
 waved her arm, bidding them a mute defiance. Her father and 
 brother cheered her from the shore, but her safety was still doubt- 
 ful. Her horse was fast sinking. Its nose was scarcely perceptible 
 above the agitated surface of the stream. There was but one re- 
 source — she flung herself from its back, and the noble animal 
 almost immediately sank. 
 
 She was yet a considerable distance from the bank, and the cur- 
 rent was still strong. She breasted it, however, with fearless 
 energy, straining every nerve to reach the shore. The foe had 
 ceased to impel their arrows, as she was by this time beyond the 
 reach of anything like a certain aim. She flung her sandals from
 
 414 THE OM RAM'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 her feet as they embarrassed her movements, and in spite of the 
 fierce rush of the stream, she rose above it and gradually advanced 
 towards the bank. It was evident that she would not be able 
 much longer to continue her exertions, and her anxious parent 
 was beginning to entertain his doubts of her eventual escape, when 
 she caught the branch of a tree which was just underneath the 
 surface, and sustained herself until she had recovered her breath. 
 Just below, the bank had given way and formed a sort of frith, in 
 which she finally landed, and was welcomed by her father with a 
 transport of emotion. 
 
 When she had sufficiently recovered, Chan Lody could no 
 longer subdue his anxiety to know the fate of his brave son. "And 
 Azmut," he said, " has become e sacrifice to his father's safety, 
 for I see him not." 
 
 " Yes," said Jahanira, solemnly, " he has met a soldier's doom. 
 He is gone to the inheritance of the brave." 
 
 " God is just ; he did not perish unrevenged." 
 
 " No, the man who offered him an indignity in the imperial 
 presence has paid the penalty of his daring. I slew him, father." 
 
 " My child !" the parent fell upon his daughter's neck and 
 wept. 
 
 "Azmut died with his sword in his hand, reeking with the 
 slaughter of his enemies. His was a noble death, — how much 
 better than an inglorious life !" 
 
 Of Chan Lody's followers, three only survived, — the whole had 
 been slain, except five who had plunged into the river a short time 
 before Jahanira. Two had perished in attempting the passage, and 
 three had succeeded in gaining the shore. With this wretched 
 remnant of his little army, he proceeded towards I\Ialwa, halting 
 for the night at a small village about ten leagues from the river. 
 His misfortunes had been severe, but they rather tended to render 
 him resolute than to subdue his unbending spirit. His march into 
 this province was speedy, but sorrowful. The loss of Azmut was 
 a bitter grief He was the pride of his father's house ; — a mere 
 child in years, he had shown the wisdom of the sage, and the skill 
 in arms of an accomplished warrior. Chan Lody lived but to
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 443 
 
 avenge his early and premature fate, and the idea of vengeance 
 was a solace to his lacerated spirit. 
 
 When he reached Malwa, to the government of which he had 
 been appointed by Shah Jehan, he began to levy troops, and soon 
 found himself at the head of a small but well-disciplined force. 
 His name was formidable throughout the empire, and the late 
 events had obtained for him an almost universal sympathy. He 
 was not, however, permitted to remain long unmolested. Within 
 three weeks after he had crossed the river to avoid the imperial 
 army, the waters had subsided, and his enemies having recruited 
 their forces, advanced to Malwa. He met them in the field, but 
 was defeated, and obliged to retire to the mountains, where he 
 maintained a successful defence, until the monsoon obliged the 
 enemy to retire. Lody had harassed them by frequent surprises, 
 by cutting off their supplies, and by reducing them to such straits 
 that they were finally obliged to leave him in undisturbed posses- 
 sion of the province which the Emperor had placed under his 
 government. They were glad at length to escape the difficulties 
 which he raised around them. 
 
 The Emperor was extremely perplexed at Chan Lody's escape. 
 He knew the abilities of that Omrah, and the estimation in which 
 his principles and talents were almost universally held. So long as 
 he lived, the Mogul throne was a contingency. Nothing but the 
 death of Chan Lody could give security to the reign of Shah Jehan. 
 With these impressions, the Emperor determined to destroy that 
 noble, as a maxim of state policy ; and therefore, so soon as the 
 monsoon had passed, he despatched a numerous army to drive 
 him from his stronghold in the mountains, and bring him to Agra, 
 alive or dead. 
 
 The imperial general was a noble of distinguished reputation, 
 and commanded a numerous and well-appointed army. He 
 encamped within a day's march from the mountains to which 
 Chan Lody had rc'.ircd for security. Conscious of his nu- 
 merical superiority, he affected to despise his enemy. On the 
 evening after he had encamped, a nautch-girl entered his presence, 
 soliciting permission to dance before him. Struck with her sin-
 
 446 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 gular beauty, she was allowed to exhibit her professional skill in 
 his presence after the evening nieal. He did not long enjoy the 
 exhibition of her evolutions. He was taken ill shortly after having 
 swallowed a copious draught of sherbert, and before the morning 
 was a corpse. His mysterious death provoking inquiry, it was 
 immediately ascertained that he had been poisoned. The sudden 
 disappearance of the nautch-girl excited suspicion. She was 
 nowhere to be found. The death of the imperial general soon 
 reached Lody's ears, and all the mysterious circumstances attend- 
 ing it. "I can explain the mystery," said the Omrah's daughter; 
 " I entered the hostile camp in disguise, and poison has removed 
 a foe whose place will not be easily supplied." 
 
 The death of their general rendered the imperial army inactive 
 for some time, and gave an opportunity to Lody to escape into the 
 Deccan, where he had powerful friends. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SHAN J EH AH was alarmed at the successful resistance which 
 Chan Lody had made against his armies ; but, being deter- 
 mined to crush him, he despatched for this purpose an extermina- 
 ting force under Eradit, a commander of reputation. The talents 
 of the imperial general, however, could not for a moment stand in 
 competition with those of his adversary. In his flight from Malwa, 
 with a few brave adherents, who continued attached to his fortunes, 
 Lody foiled all the attempts of the Mogul troops, which pursued 
 him to the number of twelve thousand. He harassed them by 
 night attacks — cut off their supplies — fortified himself in the passes 
 of the hills — until the enemy, wearied by long and difficult marches, 
 roads almost impracticable, and constant watching to escape the 
 assaults of a vigilant enemy, at length gave up the pursuit, and 
 allowed the rebel, as they styled him, to continue his journey un- 
 molested ; after which he passed into Golconda, and presented 
 himself before the Ni/am at Dowlatabad.
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTEk. 447 
 
 The Nizam granted him protection, which was a source of ex- 
 treme mortification to the Emperor, who, knowing the abiUties of 
 Lody, was fearful that he might offer a successful resistance to the 
 imperial arms with the resources which his powerful ally would 
 place at his disposal. He saw that there was no time to be lost, 
 as delay would only enable his foe to unite the jarring interests of 
 the Deccan princes, who were all avowed enemies to the house of 
 Timoui. He determined, therefore, to follow Eradit in person, 
 with a numerous reinforcement. The Emperor's arrival in the 
 Deccan had a sinister influence upon the cause of the magna- 
 nimous Lody. The refractory princes knew their sovereign's abi- 
 lities, and dreaded his power. As they saw a storm impending, 
 each fearing that it might fall upon himself, withdrew his aid from 
 him to whom they had promised assistance, and all returned to 
 their allegiance. 
 
 Shah Jehan, enraged with the Nizam for having received his 
 enemy, determined to humble that haughty prince. He therefore 
 despatched three armies against Dowlatabad : one under Eradit, 
 amounting to twenty-five thousand men, and two others, of the 
 same strength, under the separate commands of Raja Gop Singh 
 and Shaista Chan. 
 
 For some time, through the talents of Chan Lody, the Nizam's 
 troops baffled every attempt against his capital. According to 
 his former policy, Lody had secured the passes of the mountains , 
 and upon one occasion, rushing down upon Eradit, at the head of 
 twelve thousand men, he defeated him with great slaughter, and 
 obliged him to retire out of the province. This so exasperated 
 Shah Jehan, that he suspended Eradit from the command, and 
 put the army under that of his Vizier, whose reputation as a general 
 considerably damped the ardour of the Nizam's forces. Lody 
 still retained possession of the passes, from which every efibrt 
 hitherto made to dislodge him had proved ineffectual. 
 
 Prince Morad accompanied the Vizier. His love for the heroic 
 daughter of the refractoiy Omrah had not abated. Her beauty 
 had at first forged a fetter round his heart, and her heroism riveted 
 the chain.
 
 44« 1HE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 One night, aftei a day of severe skimiishing with the enemy, 
 Jahanira, who always followed her father to the field, had quitted 
 her tent to breathe the fresh air of heaven. The night dews fell 
 upon her burning brow and cooled her brain, which ached %vith 
 the concurring excitement of bodily exertion and mental anxiety. 
 
 She saw that the arm of destiny was raised to smite. She wept. 
 Her father's wrongs were not yet hau avenged. That very da 
 the Nizam had withdrawn his forces, and abandoned his brave 
 ally, with whom there remained only a few hundred followers, to 
 contend with an army of above eighty thousand men. The Nizam 
 had submitted to the Vizier, and Lody was left ^nthout a single 
 friend. Jahanira perceiving that his determination to die in arms 
 was shortly to be realised, resolved to go with him to the peace of 
 a less distracted world. 
 
 Absorbed in the intensity of these reflections, she had wandered 
 beyond the boundary of the camp. The night was still and balmy ; 
 fresh dews descended from the hills, and moistened her blanched 
 cheek, which was fanned by the passing breeze. The distant cries 
 of jackals interrupted at intervals the repose of this solemn scene; 
 and the lulling gush of a stream, which flowed through a neigh- 
 bouring ravine, suited the melancholy temper of her spirit at this 
 hour of darkness and of silence. She strolled onward thoughtfully. 
 Raising her eyes to the side of a hill, where a narrow path diverged 
 from the main road, she saw a figure emerge from a clump of trees, 
 jind stand in complete relief against the sky. She drew her dagger, 
 and, approaching cautiously, cried, " Who's there ?" at the same 
 moment springing forward, and standing ^vith her drawn crease 
 within a few yards of the intruder. 
 
 " Jahanira !" exclaimed a voice, which she instantly recognised 
 to be that of Morad. 
 
 " Why this intrusion, prince ? Are you come a spy upon our 
 path ? Can the foe so fear to approach the bayed lion, that he 
 is obliged to resort to stratagem ? Locusts, prince, will desolate 
 a country by the mere force of numbers : your armies may like- 
 wise overwhelm Chan Lody, but you will not subdue him." 
 
 " I come not as a spy, lady," replied Morad earnestly, " but to
 
 THE OMR AH' S DAUGHTER. ^9 
 
 renew my vows of eternal attachment to the noblest wow^an in 
 \he universe. If the lovely Jahanira will accept an alliance with 
 the family of Timour, and become the wife of Morad, her father 
 may be restored to his honours and influence in the state. All 
 that is past will be forgotten." 
 
 "Nay, prince, what is past can never be forgotten. The death 
 of Azmut, and the degradation of my parent, are scored with a 
 fiery brand upon my heart, and cannot be erased. I have seen 
 my brother slain — I have seen my father wronged. In this world, 
 but one object remains to me and mine — revenge ! We are a 
 doomed family, Prince Morad ; we shall perish together. There 
 is no alternative between that and yielding our allegiance to a 
 tyrant. The latter we shall n^ver do ; the former must be our 
 destiny. We are prepared ; bur they who die desperately, with 
 weapons in their hands, are to be dreaded. Let the oppressor 
 tremble." 
 
 "Jahanira ! why should this be? 1 come to offer you freedom 
 —to raise you to a dignity which you were bom to adorn." 
 
 "Freedom! Prince Morad? I have been free — I am free — I 
 will be free — and there is no dignity higher than being the 
 daughter of Chan Lody. Retire ! this secret communication 
 r>either befits you to make, nor me to encourage. Why skulk 
 under the cover of night to an enemy's tents ? Leave me, or I 
 shall be compelled to treat you as a foe." 
 
 " I came under the cover of night to avoid suspicion of treachery 
 in the imperial camp. I have incurred some hazard, lady, in 
 coming hither to declare myself, to release you and your family 
 from certain death, and to offer you the heart of an Emperor's 
 son." 
 
 "Which I reject, prince; for 'however I might respect the son 
 of a tyrant, I never could wed him. My resolve is immutable. 
 To-morrow, in the battle, remember that the daughter of Chan 
 Lody has dared to reject the son of Shah Jehan !" 
 
 Morad was in the act of speaking, when she turned from him, 
 waved her hand with an air of haughty courtesy, and ascended 
 the hill towards her tent. Upon reaching it, she threw herself on 
 
 INDIA. C G
 
 450 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 her couch, agitated by a tumult of conflicting feelings. Prince 
 Morad's afifection for her was not to be thought of without 
 emotion ; she had rejected him — even with bitterness, yet he had 
 twice saved her life ; but every other feeling was merged in her 
 filial obligations. 
 
 " He is the son of my parent's worst foe," she said mentally ; 
 " I am therefore bound to withhold all feelings towards him but 
 those of enmity." 
 
 Morad was deeply mortified at the issue of his adventure. He 
 had run the risk of incurring a base suspicion from his own party, 
 and of being seized as a spy by the enemy, only to meet a cold 
 and bitter repulse. He could not, however, withhold his admi- 
 ration from the woman whose affections he sought to win, though 
 she had met his advances with uniform haughtiness. He saw 
 that hers was, in truth, as she had characterized it, a doomed 
 family, and it grieved him that he could not rescue them from 
 destruction. 
 
 Chan Lod/s followers were reduced to a mere troop; and, 
 however strong his position, it was evident that he must eventually 
 yield to such an immense majority of numbers. Morad dreaded 
 the approaching onslaught. By daybreak the pass was to be 
 stormed by the imperial army, and there could be no doubt of the 
 issue. He would have laid down his life to rescue Jahanira from 
 the impending doom, but this could not be. 
 
 Day dawned : the pass was attacked, and the imperialists were 
 repulsed with great slaughter. Jahanira appeared among the 
 combatants, fighting with a hero's energy. The pass was again 
 attacked ; repulse followed as before, with immense loss on the 
 side of the assailants. Lody's small band, however, was dimi- 
 nished by every fresh attack, and he was at length obliged to 
 abandon the pass, with only a few followers. Descending into 
 the plain on the other side of the mountain, he resolved there to 
 await the commg of the foe, and fulfil his resolution of dying in 
 arms. He was not allowed long to pause after he had quitted the 
 hills. The imperial troops appeared in sight, and he prepared 
 himself for the sacrifice.
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 451 
 
 Summoning his brave adherents, now amounting only to thirty- 
 two, in which number was inckided his son Hussein and his 
 daughter Jahanira, he addressed them with much earnestness, 
 suggesting that they would seek their own safety in flight, and 
 leave him to die alone by the hand of an implacable enemy. 
 When he had concluded his pathetic address, there was a general 
 murmur of sorrow. Not a man would stir. All expressed their 
 determination to die in arms with their beloved leader. " Then 
 be it so," said Lody ; " our enemies shall still find that a few 
 valiant men are formidable even to the last, and their destruction 
 a dear-bought triumph." 
 
 The imperialists advanced in a large body towards the devoted 
 band, who suffered them to approach within a hundred paces, 
 when they discharged their matchlocks, which, being directed with 
 deadly aim, did signal execution. The moment after the dis- 
 charge, veiled for a moment by the smoke, Jahanira spurred her 
 horse towards the advancing host. As she rode, she fixed an 
 arrow in the string of her bow, and discharged it at the officer 
 who led the detachment. It struck upon a small conical buckler 
 with which he was armed, and the reed quivered as the head of 
 the shaft pierced the tough buffalo hide that covered it. At this 
 moment a ball from a matchlock entered the heroine's breast. 
 She fell from her horse. The blood trickled from the wound. 
 Morad rushed forward to raise her. She opened her languid eyes 
 as he lifted her to his knee, fixed them on him with a look of 
 stern despair, heaved a deep-felt sigh, and fell upon his shoulder — 
 dead. 
 
 Chan Lody saw what passed. He gave the word to advance. 
 His followers spurred their horses onward, and in a few moments 
 came in contact with their foes. The onset was short but des- 
 perate. Hussein was struck to the earth by a stroke from Morad's 
 sword, who felt no tender mercy for the brother of her whom he 
 would have saved at the sacrifice of his own life. Her death had 
 roused the fiercer energies of his spirit. Hussein fell beneath his 
 arm. 
 
 The valour of Chan Lody's followers astonished their enemies. 
 
 G G 2
 
 4Sa 
 
 THE OMRAH'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 They scattered death and dismay around them, Chan Lody slew 
 no less than six officers with his own hand. He was at length dis- 
 abled by a sabre-cut on the shoulder; he dropped his sword, and 
 was instantly surrounded and slain. He died with his eyes fixed 
 upon the broad heavens — a smile was on his lips — the left arm 
 grasped a dagger. His adherents fought to the last man — not one 
 survived ; but the victors purchased a dear victory — the death o^ 
 Chau Lod,y was signally avenged.
 
 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 Heg. 1068 (a. D. 1658). — Aurungzebe ascended the imperial throne of the 
 Moguls. He was alarmed by the approach of his nephew, Soliman Sheko, 
 who was finally deserted by his army, and obliged to take refuge in Serinagur. 
 Soliman despatched a messenger to his father Dara, with the news of his 
 ill-fortune. Dara, distressed at his son's misfortunes and his own, retreated 
 from the banks of the Suttulege, on which he was encamped, and shortly after 
 retired to Lahore, whence he was obliged to fly before the imperial army. 
 Several of his nobles, perceiving his desperate circumstances, submitted to 
 Aurangzebe. The Vizier, Meer Jumla, having arrived at court, Aurungzebe 
 marched to Moultan ; but finding his presence necessary in the capital, imme- 
 diately returned to prepare against the invasion of his brother Suja. 
 
 Heg 1069 (1659). — Suja approached with a considerable army, but was 
 met near Allahabad by the Emperor. In consequence of the treachery of 
 Jesswint Singh, Suja was defeated with great slaughter ; and taking flight, 
 was pursued by the Emperor's son Mahomed, who followed him to Patna, 
 whither he had fled in disguise. Upon the news of Suja's defeat, Dara retired 
 to Bicker beyond the Indus. Having changed his course to Tatta, he crossed 
 the desert, and after reaching Guzarat, gained over the governor to his 
 interests. He here contrived to raise an army, and marched towards Agra ; 
 but was deceived by Jesswint Singh, who had promised to join him with a 
 numerous body of forces, but treacherously deserted Dara, and joined Aurang- 
 zebe. Dara fortified himself in Ajmere. Hither the Emperor marched and 
 offered him battle, and deceived his unfortunate brother by a stratagem ; after 
 which he routed his army, and reduced him to the most pitiable distress. Dara 
 fled to the desert accompanied by his wife, who died under circumstances of 
 dreadful privation on the march. The unhappy prince in his extremity sought 
 Ihe protection of Jihon Chan, an Omrah of great power, whose life had been 
 twice saved during the sovereignty of Shah Jehan through the influence of 
 Dara ; Jihon delivered him into the hands of the conqueror ; he was paraded 
 with every mark of ignominy through Delhi, confined in a neighbouring 
 village, and eventually put to death by order of Aurungzebe. Suja took the 
 field after the death of his brother Dara, and was joined by the Emperor's son, 
 Mahomed, who had conceived a passion for one of his daughters. Suja was 
 finally defeated by the Vizier Jumla, and the prince Mahomed detached from
 
 454 HISTORICAL SUMMARY. 
 
 him by the artifices of his father, who ordered the unfortunate Suja to be seized 
 and imprisoned. 
 
 Hag. 1070 (1660). — Suja was obliged to take refuge in Arracan, where he 
 was murdered, and his family reduced to the greatest extremity. 
 
 Heg. 1071 (1661). — Soliman, the son of Dara, was seized through the 
 artifices of Aurungzebe, and sent to Delhi. He was imprisoned in the fortress 
 of Gualior, and, like his unfortunate father, shortly after murdered. During 
 this year a dreadful famine raged throughout the empire. 
 
 Heg. 1072 (1662). — The imperial general, Shaista Chan, took one of 
 Sevajee's hill-forts by flying a kite which concealed a blind match over the 
 fort just at the moment the garrison were taking powder from the magazine. 
 The kite was allowed to drop upon the powder, which was kindled by the 
 match, and an explosion took place ; the greater part of the fort was thrown 
 down, and nearly the whole gan'ison buried in the ruins. 
 
 Heg. 1073 {1663). — An attempt was made by the Marajah to assassinate 
 Shaista Chan, who escaped with the loss of three fingers ; but his son was 
 slain. 
 
 Heg. 1074 (1664). — Aurungzebe fell sick, and his son Shah Allum began to 
 intrigue for the throne ; but his efforts were foiled by the Emperor's 
 unexpected recovery. Shah Allum was appointed to a command in the 
 Deccan, in order to remove him from the capital. 
 
 Heg. 1075 (1665). — A dangerous insuiTection broke out in Guzarat, and 
 was quelled with difficulty. This year was distinguished by the death of 
 Jumla, who had been appointed to the government of Bengal. Jumla was a 
 man of great talent, having risen from a very low station to the highest offices 
 in the state. He was much esteemed by Aurangzebe for his abilities, but 
 still more dreaded than esteemed. During this year also there was an 
 insurrection of Fakeers, who, under the influence of a very wealthy old woman, 
 committed dreadful ravages, and marched to the number of twenty thousand 
 towards the capital. Their march was marked by the most horrible cruelties. 
 They totally defeated the imperial troops commanded by the collector of the 
 revenue. At length the Emperor subdued them with their own weapons : 
 employing the juggles of pretended enchantment, the insurrection was quelled, 
 but not until almost eveiy one of the enthusiasts had been clain. 
 
 Heg. 1076 {1666). — This year was remarkable for the death of Shah Jehan, 
 and the capture of Sevajee, chief of the RIahrattas, who from the seventeenth 
 year of his age had been pursuing a career of success almost unparalleled in the 
 history of potentates. From commanding a small band of mountain rolsbers, 
 he had raised himself to be the leader of a formidable army, with which he 
 awed the surrounding provinces. He was at length taken prisoner by the 
 imperial general, and confined at Delhi, whence he contrived to escape 
 dis"-uiscd in the dress of a man who had been admitted into his apartment with 
 a basket of flowers. After enduring unparalleled hardships, he reached his
 
 Historical summary. 
 
 45S 
 
 native mountains, where he was crowned sovereign of the Mahrattas, who 
 from that period gradually increased in political importance, till they became 
 8ie most numerous and influential of the native powers in India. They pro- 
 dnced several distinguished warriors, among whom the names of Scindia and 
 Holcar will be remembered so long as history has its records, and man the 
 capacity to peruse them.
 
 €l^t '^itMt oi t^x Jahms. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ABOUT noon, under the scorching beams, of a tropical sun, a 
 young Mussulman was on his way towards the Mewat hills, 
 accompanied by a party of fakeers. His hands were bound be- 
 hind him with his turban, and he had nothing on his head but a 
 silk skull-cap to resist the intense rays which shot from the cloud- 
 less heavens in an uninterrupted stream of glowing light. His 
 black hair, which was long and bushy, fell over his shoulders and 
 temples ; thus supplying a natural protection against the influence 
 of the solar fires, which were almost insupportable. He was 
 urged onward by his companions at a rate which the excessive 
 hiat rendered extremely distressing, though to them it appeared 
 IT ere matter of pastime. Accustomed as they were to undergo 
 the severest bodily inflictions, what to him was positive torture 
 was to them a relaxation from it. 
 
 Every one of his companions was perfectly naked, and each 
 bore the marks of having submitted to the torturing process of 
 some dreadful penance. Their limbs were sunken and fleshless, 
 the skin shrivelled and discoloured by the severity of those tor- 
 ments to which their bodies had been exposed. Their nails pro- 
 truded and curved into a point over the fingers and toes, like the 
 claws of a beast of prey. Their hair, matted with the filthy ac- 
 cumulations of years, hung over the backs of these Mahomedan 
 Nazarites, like the locks from a Medusa's head, and was fre(juently
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE PAKEER5. 45? 
 
 SO thick as to shroud them in a capillary veil, revolting to more 
 than one sense, and agreeable to none. They were armed witli 
 huge clubs, the heads of which were charged with iion. These 
 they used with considerable dexterity, being in the habit of em- 
 ploying them in the jungles for the purpose of destroying small 
 game, upon which they frequently feasted with a gluttonous zest 
 that would have shamed even the Roman Apicius, 
 
 " Ay," said one, eyeing their prisoner with a look of Satanic 
 triumph, " naked men know how to fight. Devotion is their 
 shield, which all the outcasts from Paradise shall never be able to 
 pierce." 
 
 " I am in your power," replied the captive ; " but beware how 
 you exercise your momentary ascendancy. Your foul revolt will 
 not escape its due punishment : in spite of your devotion you 
 will suffer the penalty — torture me for a false prophet else. 
 Success has turned your brains. The war waged by enthusiasm 
 is like a sudden burst of the tempest, which crushes the oak in its 
 impetuous sweep, but quickly passes away ; the surrounding 
 plain springs out into renewed luxuriance and beauty, and thus 
 smiles at the impotence of the hurricane." 
 
 " Hold, blasphemer !" cried a huge gaunt devotee, the bones of 
 whose joints were heard to clatter as he wielded his fleshless 
 arms with the most extravagant gesticulations ; " bend the knee 
 to those holy men who have defeated the sons of darkness, and 
 are about to place upon the throne of the Moguls a queen who 
 shall close the dynasty of Timour, and fill the world with the 
 children of the faithful, — for you are all aliens from the true 
 stock." 
 
 The prisoner turned from this filthy saint with an expression of 
 disgust, and allowed him to rail at the Emperor and all his faithful 
 subjects till he foamed like a gored bull with the frantic energy 
 of his vociferations. 
 
 They now entered upon a scene of desolation not to be 
 witnessed without deep emotion, which naturally follows wherever 
 the melancholy consciousness arises that a vast addition has been 
 made to the sum of human misery. For leagues, as they pro-
 
 458 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 
 
 ceeded onward, nothing was to be seen but deserted villages ; the 
 whole country having been laid waste, and bearing the appearance 
 of "a land not inhabited." The jungles had been fired ; and for 
 miles the ashes left by the devouring element, and the charred trunks 
 of trees, which had for centuries lifted their sturdy limbs amid the 
 feebler growth of the forest, showed how terrific had been the 
 conflagration. Not a shrub, not a blade of grass, not a single 
 trace of vegetation, was anywhere visible ; and as the stranger 
 cast his eyes over the scene of devastation, he could not help 
 expressing his indignation against the perpetrators of such wanton 
 outrage. 
 
 " Ay," said one of the enthusiasts ; " we take care not to pro- 
 vide forage for enemies ; they who visit the stronghold of the 
 fakeers, must make up their minds to take a hungry journey. If 
 ever you live to see your friends, you will have strange news to 
 tell them, believe me. When holy men seize the sword, and fight 
 in carnal battles, no mortal arm can resist them. We have taught 
 your sovereign what it is to oppose Heaven's vicegerents. He is 
 already tottering on his throne. You shall see and know more 
 anon." 
 
 The orgre-like being who spoke had taken so much opium 
 during the journey thus far, as to have reached that pitch of 
 excitement to which, when a fakeer arrives, he can submit to 
 bodily tortures altogether incredible. His eyes glared with the 
 glassy radiance of incipient madness. Though the heat was 
 intolerable, and the earth steamed with the intensity of the sun's 
 rays, like exhalations from a caldron, he leaped about, and threw 
 himself into a thousand contortions, until his body was covered 
 with a tawny scum from the severity of his exercise. After he had 
 fatigued himself by these violent antics, he took a number of large 
 needles, and having passed them through th'j flesh in several 
 parts of his body, threaded them with silks of various colours, 
 and then strutted before the party with the pride and bearing of 
 one conscious of having performed an act for which he should 
 receive the liomage of his companions, who treated him with a 
 reverence evidently very flattering to the spiritual vanity of thi*
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 4S9 
 
 mad visionary. Having at length relieved himself from the 
 needles, he drew the silken strings through the wounds, and then 
 attaching to each a small pointed instrument, exceedingly sharp, 
 turned himself round until the rotation became so violent that 
 the outline of his figure was scarcely distinguishable. When 
 he ceased, his body was covered with gashes and reeking with 
 blood. 
 
 After six hours of continued travelling, with scarcely a pause, 
 the party arrived at the foot of a small hill, which had evidently 
 been spared from the devastation that exhibited so sad a prospect 
 in the surrounding country. The prisoner, though overcome by 
 the excessive fatigue of so arduous a journey, was not allowed to 
 pause, but compelled to proceed up the ascent. About midway a 
 considerable ruin was disclosed, upon which the last rays of the 
 sun slanted, as it was sinking behind the low hills that skirted the 
 distant plain. The entrance was lofty, and encumbered with 
 fragments of pillars, which time or violence had thrown down. 
 Within was an extensive area ; on every side of it were gigantic 
 sculptures, representing* the history of some Hindoo supersti- 
 tion, which had been greatly mutilated by the zeal of pious 
 Mahomedans. This building was a dilapidated choultry, and 
 had been converted into the vestibule of the abode of an old 
 crone, bending beneath the weight of years, and mistress of 
 inexhaustible treasures. 
 
 In this hall, Bistamia, which was the hag's name, was engaged 
 in preparing the evening meal for her beggarly dependants — a 
 thing she invariably did with her own hands. During the culinary 
 process she appeared to mutter certain incantations over the 
 smoking viands, which consisted of the most revolting ingredients. 
 
 When the stranger was brought before her, she eyed him with 
 that haggard, feeble scowl peculiar to wicked old age, in which i? 
 exhibited the will, but not the power, of the demon. Her de 
 formed and decrepit body was bare to the waist, and presented a 
 loathsome image of living mortality. 
 
 What an antidote to the vanity of youth and the pride of 
 beauty ! Her white locks streamed over her brown, withered
 
 ♦6o THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 
 
 shoulders, exlilbiting one of those repelHng contrasts which the 
 eye cannot gaze upon without instinctively closing. Her skin 
 hung from her like the dewlap of a sacred bull, but flaccid and 
 bloodless, as if the principle of life were withdrawn from it. The 
 nails of her fingers had grown into claws, and seemed as if they 
 could distil poison, like those of the Egyptian lizard.* 
 
 " Her eyes with scalding rheum were galled and red,"' 
 
 and her whole appearance seemed to speak " variety of wretched- 
 ness." She approached the stranger, eyed him with a look of in- 
 tense malice, and said — 
 
 "Who are you, son of a dog? How came you within these 
 walls r 
 
 " I am," replied the stranger, "an officer of the imperial army, 
 who, upon the issue of an unsuccessful encounter with your in- 
 surgeiit fanatics, have fallen into their hands. How I came within 
 these walls, they will best explain to you." 
 
 " Hah ! an enemy ! You shall soon learn how we treat ene- 
 mies when they profane our sanctuary.- Would you save your 
 life !" 
 
 " I have no desire to die." 
 
 " Ay, the burden of every coward's song. Fall down, then, at 
 our feet, and hail us Queen of the Moguls." 
 
 " The Moguls were never ruled by women." 
 
 " Say you so ? We shall see. Bind him to yonder statue." 
 
 Her order was speedily executed, and the hag began to prepare 
 the last dish of the evening's refection. This was a medley, fit 
 only for the stomachs of ghoules or devils. It happened to be a 
 certain day of the moon, and on this day the same mixture wa? 
 always placed before her retainers. The first thing she ordered 
 to be brought, when about to make her infernal stew, was the 
 trunk of a human body, which had been conveyed for this very 
 purpose from the scene of slaughter. She deliberately cut large 
 pieces from the fleshy parts ; these she divided into small squares, 
 
 The Gecco.
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 461 
 
 vvilh slow, calculating precision, and then placed them severally in 
 a human skull that stood beside her. Having covered them with 
 a layer of herbs that had been gathered under certain influences 
 of the moon, she took from a covered basket a hooded snake, 
 from the jaws of which the poisonous fangs had been previously 
 extracted, and placed it alive in the skull To this she added the 
 legs of a frog, the tail of a lizard, the head of a bat, and the claws 
 of an owl. Having placed the skull, with its contents, in a capa- 
 cious earthen vessel, in which there was a sufficient quantity of 
 water to complete the dressing, she put it upon the fire, and 
 watched it with eager anxiety, muttering to herself a sort of mys- 
 tical chant during the entire period of the cooking. The smoke 
 ascended in volumes from the flame over which this disgusting 
 mess was hanging, and soon filled the whole chamber with a thick 
 and suffocating cloud. 
 
 The mode of hanging the earthenware vessel over the blaze was 
 as remarkable as any part of the singular process. Two fakeers 
 stood on either side of the fire, an iron bar resting upon the shoul- 
 ders of each, from which the mysterious stew was suspended above 
 the flame. 
 
 When sufficiently dressed, the skull was taken from the earthen- 
 ware receptacle ; its contents were put upon square pieces of 
 plantain leaf, and the portions placed before each fakeer present, 
 who devoured them with a greediness that made the prisoner's 
 heart leap up to his throat. 
 
 The idea of those wretched enthusiasts was, that this abominable 
 meal would have the surprising effect not only of rendering them 
 fearless in the day of battle, but of inspiring their enemies with 
 such terror that they would not dare to approach them ; that, 
 moreover, it would cause them to become invisible when engaged 
 with their foes, who would thus fall an easy prey to persons so 
 supernaturally endowed. 
 
 A portion of a mess which had been previously prepared was 
 offered to the prisoner ; but he rejected it with disgust, and par- 
 took only of some plain boiled rice, which somewhat refreshed 
 him after so long and toilsome a journey.
 
 463 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 
 
 When they had concluded their evening's repast, Bistamia re- 
 tired from the scene of this extraordinary carousal, and the fakeers, 
 flinging themselves upon the bare ground, without the slightest 
 covering, were soon hushed in profound repose. The opium, in 
 which they had indulged to excess, rendered their sleep so heavy 
 that it seemed like the deep slumber of death. The flames, by 
 which the chamber had been illumined, subsided by degrees, 
 and the gloom of silence and darkness gradually succeeded. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE Mogul was left chained to one of the statues on the side- 
 wall, when the fakeers betook themselves to their night's 
 repose : the chain by which he was fastened only enabled him to 
 seat himself upon the floor. He could not lay his body at full 
 length, and was therefore obliged to lean his back against the 
 figure to which he was attached. In that position he tried for 
 some time to sleep, but without effect ; feverish and distracting 
 thoughts obtruded. His reflections were of the most melancholy 
 character. He was surrounded by a body of enthusiasts, into 
 whose power he had fallen, and who would very probably doom 
 him to some cruel death, by way of celebrating the orgies of their 
 sanguinary superstition. Fanatics are the worst of tyrants ; who, 
 alas ! too often do the work of the devil, whilst they fancy them- 
 selves working in the service of their God. In proportion as the 
 infatuation takes possession of their minds, they become cruel to- 
 wards all such as they imagine seceders from the worship of that 
 deity of whom they claim to be vicegerents, and see no virtue but 
 in those who, like themselves, have been inoculated with the 
 rabies of spiritual enthusiasm. In every age of the world, in every 
 country, and among all communities, that sort of enthusiasm 
 which claims exclusive spiritual endowment, and pretends to 
 supr^iatural communications, is the greatest bane against which
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 463 
 
 pure Religion has ever had to contend. It invests her in a 
 factitious garb that conceals while it arrays her. False zeal has 
 driven more from the true fold than have fallen victims to the 
 slaughter of war, the inroads of pestilence, or the devastations of 
 famine. No one is driven into the paths of peace, or scourged 
 into the embrace of virtue. All men are won to good by its own 
 sweet suggestions, by gentle implorations, by the light and fra- 
 grant blessings which it offers to those who properly seek to possess 
 them ; not by those terrible denunciations which scare the timid, 
 offend the proud, and provoke the contempt of the reckless. 
 
 The prisoner was pursuing these reflections with a melancholy 
 sense of his present condition. He gazed round the apartment 
 to see if he might encourage any hopes of escape. The embers 
 yet glowing upon the stone floor, threw a sickly light around, 
 which only rendered the remote gloom of the chamber still more 
 murky. The fakeers, who were stretched at length near the 
 smouldering fire, looked like so many semi-monsters under the 
 power of enchantment. Their hard breathing, the only symptom 
 of life which they exhibited, sufficiently indicated the intensity of 
 their slumber, that seemed to have been rendered more profound 
 by the horrible meal of which they had partaken just before they 
 gave themselves up to the enjoyments of "nature's sweet re- 
 storer." 
 
 The prisoner, closing his eyes, tried to conjure up images before 
 the speculum of his mind more agreeable than those realities 
 upon which it was an agony to gaze ; — finally overcome by bodily 
 fatigue and mental exhaustion, he fell into an unquiet sleep. 
 
 His slumber was at length disturbed by the pressure of a gentle 
 grasp upon his arm. He opened his eyes and perceived that 
 there was an object standing between him and the light, which 
 had already begun to dispel the gloom of the capacious apartment 
 in which he lay. Unable to guess what such a visit could portend, 
 he remained motionless, though not entirely without some painful 
 apprehensions of mischief. After an interval of a few moments, 
 the hand was removed from his arm and i)laced upon his brow. 
 The tender pressure, the smoothness of the palm, the feminine
 
 464 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 
 
 texture and delicate movement of the fingers, convinced him in 
 an instant that it was the hand of woman, but not of her whom 
 he had looked upon the previous evening with a loathing so ab- 
 solute that his very blood curdled, and whose fingers would have 
 rather pressed upon his forehead like the hard-pointed talons of a 
 harj^y, than with the soft and thrilling impress of an angel's 
 touch. 
 
 That touch made every nerve thrill with emotion. The stranger 
 leaned over him as if to hear from his breathing whether he slept 
 profoundly or not. Her breath was as the air of Paradise. He 
 could not be mistaken. There was an inexplicable but infallible 
 sympathy which assured him, — with that mysterious power of 
 conviction communicated how we know not, but still more powerful 
 than any arising from positive testimony, — that the being before 
 him was something far above the ordinary level of human nature. 
 He listened instinctively to catch the music of her voice ; his 
 breath was for the moment suspended lest the least sound from 
 her lips should escape his ear. He was in a waking trance, the 
 more delicious from its succeeding to reflections which had so 
 painfully harassed him. 
 
 " Stranger !" at length said a soft voice in a tone that seemed 
 to come from the throat of a Peri. 
 
 " Who is it that calls me ?" asked the prisoner, in a scarcely 
 audible whisper. 
 
 " One who has compassion upon your condition, and would 
 give you the means of freedom if you are disposed to embrace 
 them." 
 
 " Shall we not be overheard by those holy sleepers who are 
 lying round yonder embers ?" 
 
 "No; they are lapped in too profound a slumber to be easily 
 roused." 
 
 " To whom do I address myself?" 
 
 " To the granddaughter of Bistamia, who would escape with 
 you the most odious of all slaveries. You will, no doubt, be sur- 
 prised that I speak thus freely to a stranger, but mine is a despe- 
 rate position, and 1 seek its allevWion under any ciicumstances.
 
 THB. REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. ^s 
 
 To-ftiorrow, when the fakeers shall have quitted these walls, which 
 they will do to engage the Emperor's troops, I may see you again, 
 I have sought you now to apprise you that a friend is at hand, 
 bent upon your release. To-morrow we meet — farewell !" And her 
 aerial figure glided through the gloom, without leaving the faintest 
 echo of her footsteps, like a bright mist in a summer eve over the 
 surface of a calm lake, upon which the mountains have projected 
 their gigantic shadows. 
 
 Shortly after the morning had cast its fresh light into the gloomy 
 hall the fakeers awoke, and rising from their hard bed, each with 
 a sudden motion of the different limbs, caused the joints to snap 
 with a sound like the cracking of nuts in rapid succession ; after 
 which they seated themselves, crossed their legs, and began to 
 smoke, passing the tube from mouth to mouth, every one inhaling 
 tJie luxurious narcotic from the same instrument. After a while 
 Bistamia entered. 
 
 " Come," said she, " 'tis time you were on your way. The 
 Emperor's troops were encamped last night beyond the country 
 over which we have passed with the scourge of our power. They 
 will be on their march by this time. You must all fight, and wrap 
 the souls of your foes in the black veil of terror. Who undergoes 
 the penance this morning?" 
 
 Without uttering a word, one of the fakeers who had accom- 
 panied the Mogul on the day of his capture, and rendered himself 
 conspicuous by passing needles through his flesh, rose from his 
 recumbent position, and, with an expression of callous indifterencc, 
 advanced towards the spot where the flame had brightly blazed on 
 the preceding evening. Rubbing two smooth pieces of a black- 
 grained wood rapidly together, he kindled a tuft of dry grass on 
 wliich some brushwood had been placed, and upon this several 
 dry logs. A strong fire was soon burning, into which the devotee 
 placed a long cylindrical rod of iron. In the course of a few 
 moments it became red hot. When in this state he placed the 
 point of the rod against his cheek, and deliberately pressed it until 
 it had passed through his tongue, and was visible on the other 
 side. It was then bent down on either cheek, towards tlie shoulder, 
 
 INDIA. H H
 
 466 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKBERS. 
 
 forming three sides of a square, to prevent the possibiUty of its 
 being withdrawn. The stern composure of his countenance did 
 not relax a single instant during the revolting infliction. His 
 companions looked upon him with fatuitous admiration, making 
 him the most solemn obeisance after the odious penance had been 
 concluded. 
 
 The man next deliberately opened the wounds which he had 
 made on the previous day, and passed different coloured strings 
 through them. Thus adorned, he declared himself ready to go 
 forth in his ov/n invincible might, and crush the enemies of 
 his venerable patron. Bistamia placed a golden boon within his 
 half-closed hand, upon which he grinned as well as his locked 
 jaws would permit, and was about to quit the place accompanied 
 by his companions, when the hag said with a savage laugh : " On 
 your return you shall enjoy a rare pastime with yonder son of a 
 scurvy dog : I will reserve him for your merriment. A little easy 
 blood-spilling without labour will be a relaxation, after the fatigue 
 of making carrion in the gross. Go and prosper — slay and spare 
 not !" They made their salaam, departed, and the prisoner was 
 once more left to his own solitary reflections. 
 
 About noon, his visitor of the night approached him. As she 
 advanced, the lightness of her step, and the buoyant elasticity of 
 every motion of her frame, proclaimed the beauty which he had 
 already anticipated. In a few moments, a lovely girl, in the very 
 birth and freshness of womanhood, stood before him. She was 
 young and beautiful as the morning stars when they sang together 
 at the birth of creation. Her breath seemed impregnated with 
 spicy perfume wafted on gentlest airs from the shores of Arabia the 
 Happy. It invested her in an atmosphere of its own. 
 
 Her eyes were dark — of the deepest hue, but brilliant as gems, 
 and soft as the soul of which they were eloquent interpreters, 
 Her hair was raised in a cone on the top of her head, and 
 confined by a long silver pin, giving increased altitude to her 
 xnajestic figure, and exposing the whole of her finely-arched 
 forehead to the rapturous gaze of the Mogul. 
 
 " I would not have escaped this captivity for worlds !" he cried,
 
 THE RE VOL!" OF THE FAKERR5. 467 
 
 as sh3 stood beside him in the plenitude of her ahiiost unearthly- 
 beauty. 
 
 "Stranger," she rephed, "have you the courage to bear me 
 from the house of bondage, if I free you from your chains ?" 
 
 " Try me ; and if I fail to realise your wishes, cast me back 
 again to my prison, and gall my limbs with the fetters from which 
 I should no longer deserve to be free." 
 
 She bent over him, and released his hands from the manacles 
 that confined them, and he stood before her disencumbered of his 
 bonds. 
 
 *' Listen," cried the beautiful girl, "while I unfold to you the 
 miserable position in which I stand. My grandmother has given 
 me as a concubine to the fakeer who this morning underwent the 
 penance which you witnessed. On his return from the battle he 
 will claim me. I need scarcely tell you that I entertain towards 
 him a disgust so intrinsical and unconquerable, that I am deter- 
 mined to die by my own hands rather than become the instrument 
 of that man's pleasures. Upon you my hopes are fixed to release 
 me from this horrible alternative. To-night, when the fakeers 
 shall be hushed in sleep after their debauch, in which they are 
 sure to indulge, we may fly from these detested walls. Mean- 
 while, you must resume your chains. You will now have the 
 power of casting them off when you please. At midnight I will 
 again visit you, prepared to fly with you from the most odious 
 persecution to that freedom which I shall rely upon your honour 
 for securing to me." 
 
 The sound of footsteps induced her to depart ; and Bistamia 
 entered, followed by several fakeers, who announced another 
 defeat of the imperial troops by the naked army of an old woman. 
 
 " 'Tis well," she cried; "to-morrow I shall place myself at the 
 head of my brave followers for a final victory, and the imperial 
 sceptre shall shortly be swayed by a wiser head than ever sur- 
 mounted the shoulders of an Emperor." 
 
 In the course of that evening, the abode of Bistamia was filled 
 with her victorious enthusiasts, who encouraged her absiu'd 
 pretensions to the Mogul throne. 
 
 H H 2
 
 463 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AT midnight the granddaughter of Bistamia entered the dreary 
 vestibule, and approaching the prisoner, he immediately 
 released himself from his bonds. Several fakeers were sleeping in 
 a distant part of the chamber, and among them the fanatic who 
 had passed the red-hot iron through his cheek. The captive had 
 scarcely cast aside his chains, when the fakeer started to his feet, 
 and rushed forward like a demon. His appearance was beyond 
 description hideous. The wound in his tongue, in which the iron 
 rod was still fixed, prevented him from articulating; thus his 
 efforts to speak were followed by unintelligible sounds, so dis- 
 cordant, that they seemed to come from the throat of some 
 monstrous wild beast yet unknown to man. His eyes flashed with 
 the lurid glow of a live coal, dimmed by the cold air, and the fires 
 of which are fast fading. Some half-consumed logs still burnt 
 upon the floor, where they had been kindled to prepare the 
 evening's meal as before, and afforded sufficient light to show the 
 ferocious aspect of this truculent visionary. He seized the 
 trembling girl in his arms, for this was the monster to whose em- 
 braces she was to be devoted by her grandmother, and was about 
 to bear her off, when the Mogul raised his chain, and, hitting him 
 with all his force upon the temple, struck him to the earth. The 
 wretched man gave a horrible howl as he fell ; this was accom- 
 panied with a smothered groan, and all was still. The floor was 
 almost instantly covered with his blood. The temporal artery had 
 been divided with the force of the blow, and he lay dead before 
 his intended victims. 
 
 The other fakeers had by this time advanced and seized the 
 prisoner, who prostrated two of the fanatics with his chain before 
 they could succeed in binding him. Bistamia was summoned. 
 When she saw her favourite dead, she shrieked like a maniac, and 
 staggering towards her granddaughter, laid her skinny fingers upon 
 the latter's shoulders, and looking into her eyes as if she would 
 work a demon's spell upon her, cursed her with a loud and bitter 
 imprecatiou.
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 469 
 
 " Thou shalt die before to-morrow's sun goes to his rest, and 
 thy accomplice with thee. The expiring groans of both shall 
 swell the song of to-morrow's triumph. Chain them to yonder 
 wall." 
 
 This order was instantly obeyed ; they were each chained to a 
 figure in recesses of the wall, about twelve feet apart. They could 
 just see each other. A guard of fakeers was placed over them. 
 They were not allowed to converse. Those ferocious bigots took 
 delight in dwelling upon the horrible tortures to which the Mogul 
 was to be exposed, by way of signalising their contemplated 
 victory on the morrow. They felt a savage joy in exciting their 
 prisoner's terrors ; and the tears of the beautiful girl, who had be- 
 come the companion of his captivity, only excited their stony 
 hearts to fresh insults. 
 
 Next morning, just as Bistamia was prepared to quit the vestibule 
 for the purpose of heading her army of fanatics, a messenger 
 entered, informing her that the Emperor had employed magical 
 incantations, in order to secure her defeat. 
 
 She was startled at this intelligence : Aurungzebe's known 
 sanctity led her to fear that a spiritual warfare pursued by him 
 would be likely to turn the tide of success against her, 
 
 "What are the methods of the enemy's sorcery?" asked 
 the hag. 
 
 " He has delivered to each soldier in his army a small billet, 
 written with his own hand, and, as it is supposed, with his own 
 blood, containing magical incantations. He has moreover ordered 
 similar billets to be carried upon the point of a spear before each 
 squadron, which the soldiers are persuaded will counteract the 
 enchantments of their enemies ; so that they are advancing with 
 a degree of enthusiasm which I fear will be irresistible." 
 
 Bistamia was perplexed, for she had sagacity enough to perceive 
 that the same credulity which had induced Aurungzebe's troops 
 to believe in the witchcraft of an old woman, would give them at 
 least equal confidence in the pretended charm of their Emperor. 
 
 " Well, should they drive us to the foot of this mountain, the 
 stronghold behind will defy them : a few resolute spirits may 
 defend U\e hill from a host ; and success has given courage to the
 
 470 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 
 
 army of the fakeers. They will protect their potentate to the 
 last drop of their blood." 
 
 " But where is our leader ?" 
 
 " Dead." 
 
 " A bad omen of success !'* 
 
 " Will not the presence of Bistamia inspirit the naked armies 
 of Paradise, for thither they are on their way through a pilgrimage 
 of warfare, to crush the outcasts ? We shall teach them yet a 
 terrible lesson. Come — to the field, and mind" — turning to the 
 fakeers who had charge of the captives — " you look with a vigilant 
 eye upon those doomed offenders who shall expiate their crimes 
 with their blood. This night their death-pangs shall record our 
 triumph," 
 
 Dashing her long pale locks from her withered forehead, she 
 seized a dagger and staggered from the spot. 
 
 She had some reason for the confidence she expressed in the 
 strength of the place selected for her abode. The hill was steep, 
 and accessible only by a single path. By rolling down huge stones 
 upon the heads of a besieging force, a few resolute men might 
 defend the ascent against multitudes. This had been already done 
 with fatal success. Beyond the vestibule, in which the two 
 prisoners were confined, was an extensive range of apartments, 
 hollowed out of the living rock. The entrance was from the ruin, 
 through a long passage only fifteen inches wide and thirty feet in 
 length, cut through the solid stone, and protected by a sort ol 
 massive iron portcullis, which was let down about the centre, and 
 raised or lowered by means of heavy chains. The dimensions oi 
 the excavations beyond were prodigious ; there being cavern after 
 cavern, in which were deposited immense treasures of various 
 descriptions, but how realised has remained a mystery, though 
 considered to have been the produce of sorcery. 
 
 The neighbourhood of this spot was shunned as an enchanted 
 region ; and the desolation spread by the inexorable Bistamia 
 around her dwelling, only tended to increase the superstitious 
 Uorror with which she was universally regarded. 
 
 TJie Mogul's situation was now far more distr.ssing than it had
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. ^71 
 
 been since his captivity among the fakeers. He could not behold 
 his lovely companion suffering on his account without the keenest 
 emotions. But for him she would be at that moment free ; and 
 yet the bitterness of these reflections was, in some measure, quali- 
 fied by the knowledge that her liberty was worse than bondage, 
 exposed as she had been to the loathsome advances of a man 
 whom she could not look upon without abhorrence, and to whose 
 detestable passions her innocence might have been eventually 
 sacrificed. He felt, therefore, some consolation, amid the harass- 
 ing thoughts which poured like a turbid flood upon his mind. He 
 was forbidden to hold any conversation with his fellow-captive ; 
 so that, although they could see each other's misery, they were 
 not allowed the sad consolation of reciprocating their thoughts. 
 The moment he made an effort of this kind, one of his naked 
 guards stood before him, and drowned his voice with horrible 
 imprecations. 
 
 Four of these wretches were left as a guard over him and the 
 partner of his captivity. They indulged m that loose freedom cf 
 conversation peculiar to the lowest and most depraved natures. 
 Seated upon the bare stones of the apartment they smoked and 
 chewed bhang* until they were nearly stupified. One of them 
 then brought a leathern bottle full of arrack, from a hole under- 
 neath on^ of the pillars ; and this strong spirit they continued to 
 drink until they were all m a state of disgusting intoxication. They 
 then danced before their prisoners, raving like maniacs, and 
 flourishing their clubs over their heads with terrifying violence. 
 Fatigued at length with these exertions, they threw themselves 
 prostrate, and were soon in a swinish sleep. 
 
 The dead body of the fakeer still lay where it had fallen when 
 the soul quitted its deformed tabernacle for a brighter or a darker 
 destiny. The odours which exhaled from it were becoming 
 extremely offensive; and the prospect of soon breathing an 
 atmosphere teeming with the foul particles of corruption, was 
 anything but a promising subject of contemplation to the wretched 
 captives. 
 
 * An intoxicating leaf.
 
 473 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 
 
 The thoughts of escape now took entire possession of the 
 Mogul's mind. His guards were powerless, and he began to try 
 the strength of his chains. He was fastened to the leg of a 
 gigantic figure which stood in a niche, and which, therefore, the 
 darkness of the place had hitherto prevented him from examining. 
 It happened that the sun, being at this moment opposite to a 
 small aperture in the roof of the building, poured a narrow but 
 strong stream of light upon the figure. On examining minutely 
 the limb to which he was fastened, the prisoner observed a large 
 crack in the stone, just above the ankle ; this opened in the 
 slightest degree when he pulled the chain. He felt confident 
 that, by a great effort, he could break off the stone limb ; though 
 even then he would only free himself in a degree, for his wrists 
 were bound together \?j a handcuff", to which the chain was 
 attached that fastened him to the statue. The discovery, however, 
 gave him some hope of eventually being able to take advantage 
 of it ; and his mind became considerably calmed. He dreaded 
 Bistamia's return, remembering her horrible menaces, and having 
 good reason to believe that she would not fail to put them into 
 execution, if something did not intervene to cross her sanguinary 
 purpose. 
 
 The fakeers still slept. Except their loud breathings, nothing 
 was heard to disturb the gloomy silence that reigned around. It 
 was already long past noon, and no tidings had been received of 
 the hostile armies. At length distant shouts came suddenly upon 
 the ear. They sounded like the acclamations of triumph, mingled 
 with those frantic yells peculiar to the fakeers when under a state 
 of violent excitement. The sounds gradually approached, and it 
 soon became evident that victory had favoured the Moguls. The 
 clash of arms was nov/ heard, cries of the pursuing and pursued 
 were distinctly perceptible, and at length rose to a tumult. 
 
 In a few moments, Bistamia entered the vestibule, spotted with 
 gore. The whole upper part of her bronzed fleshless body was 
 uncovered. Her appearance was positively hideous. There was a 
 deep gash in her neck, whence the blood bubbled. She staggered 
 towards her granddaughter ^ -a dagger glimmered in her bony
 
 THE REVOLT OF THE FAKEERS. 473 
 
 fingers. She raised it over the head of the trembling girl, who 
 sat mute and motionless under her harpy clutch, blanclied with 
 terror. The old crone gave a gasp ; a guttural chuckle followed, 
 and her arm fell ; she fixed her teeth, whilst her eyes glared on 
 those of her victim. 
 
 The Mogul, in a paroxysm of alarm for the safety of one who 
 had put her life in jeopardy for him, threw his whole weight on 
 the chain which attached him to the statue. The cracked limb 
 gave way. He rushed tow.ards the hag, raised his chained hands 
 to strike, but perceived that she was motionless. Her arm had 
 not force to impel the dagger which had fallen from her feeble 
 grasp, and the wretched creature lay dead on the bosom of her 
 grandchild. 
 
 A party of Moguls entered. The drunken fakeers were instantly 
 put to death, and the two captives released. The apartments 
 beyond the vestibule were searched, and vast hoards of wealth 
 discovered, which were seized, and ultimately deposited in the 
 imperial treasury. The lovely Zulima was received with flattering 
 courtesy by the Emperor, and shortly after became the wife of her 
 late companion in chains, who proved to be the son of Shaista, 
 one of Aunmgzebe's favourite generals.
 
 €^^ B4x-\ih €^ui 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A CAVALCADE was on its way to Madura through one of 
 those deep gorges with which the Western Ghauts abound. 
 Evening had ah-eady set in, and thickened by the dense shadows 
 of the mountains which intercept the sun's rays as he verges 
 towards the horizon, the darkness was intense. The evening hour 
 had been chosen by the travellers for the renewal of their journey, 
 ti order to escape the scorching heat of the sun, which in the day- 
 time, when reflected from the bare sides of the hills, is so great as 
 to be scarcely endurable. The night was lovely. The glen 
 through which the party were passing was a profound hollow . 
 above the mountains rose on either side, sloping upwards from 
 the base, and thus presenting the form of a funnel. The sky, 
 seen from this pitchy glen, appeared of uncommon brilliancy, and 
 was so thickly studded with stars, that the light seemed to perco 
 late through the entire expanse : but it reached not the bosom of 
 the ravine through which the travellers were passing, being repelled 
 by the ponderous shadows of the suiTOundmg hills. 
 
 In the midst of the cavalcade was a palankeen of costly con- 
 struction, borne upon the shoulders of four sturdy Hindoos. 
 Round it hung a rich silk drapery which entirely enclosed and 
 concealed the person within. Whining a dull monotonous chant, 
 the hamauls* proceeded at a slow but steady pace, on account of 
 
 Palankeen bearers.
 
 THEMAHRATTA CHIEF. 475 
 
 tlie inequalities of the ground. A guard of a hundred and fifty 
 soldiers followed close behind them. The murmurs of their voices 
 as they chatted to beguile the tediousness of their journey was 
 multiplied by the slumbering echoes of the hills, which were 
 awakened at their approach, and appeared to mock them with 
 their own hilarity. 
 
 They came at length to a gloomy pass between two huge masses 
 of rock that seemed to have been cast there by some mighty con- 
 vulsion of the earth. Here the strait was so exceedingly narrow 
 that there was scarcely room to force the palankeen through. T^sc 
 men could not go abreast. When the hamauls were just about to 
 emerge from this mountain gorge, they found their progress opposed 
 by a troop of armed men. Cowardly at all times, and rendered 
 doubly so by their confined position, they would have cast down 
 their burthen and fled ; but as this was impossible from the nature 
 of the passage, they fell upon their knees with the palankeen still 
 resting on their shoulders, and implored mercy of the armed 
 strangers. 
 
 Little ceremony was used in reply 'to their supplications. The 
 palankeen was lifted from their shoulders and taken possession of, 
 together with its burthen, and the bearers were ordered to make 
 the best of their way back through the passage, upon pain of sum- 
 mary chastisercent. This was no easy matter to accomplish, as 
 the troops followed so closely behind that several were already in 
 the gorge. With some difficulty the passage was at length cleared ; 
 but when the guards learned what had taken place, they pushed 
 forward to recover their charge, and in a few moments the strait 
 was again filled. The foremost man, however, was thmst through 
 the body with a lance the moment he reached the end of the strait. 
 
 " Advance another step," said a voice, in a tone that showed it 
 had been practised in command, "and you die. We are in force 
 iufiicient to slaughter you like so many wild conies coming out of 
 a burrow. Remain patiently where you are for a few minutes, and 
 your march shall be no further impeded." 
 
 " Where is the palankeen ?" demanded the guard. 
 
 " Where it and its gentle occupant will be well attended to. We
 
 476 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 know our prize. She must lack refreshment amid tne ruggedl 
 passes of these hills, and we are prepared to afford heraspecimeui 
 of our hospitality." 
 
 " To whom will she be indebted for this compulsive courtesy ?" ' 
 
 "To Sevagee, the Mahratta. The Princess Rochinara will be- 
 safe in his custody. Tell the Emperor, on your return, that his; 
 daughter is with those whom he contemptuously calls 'The; 
 Robbers of the Hills :' but Sevajee may live to dispute with himi 
 the throne of Delhi; he therefore need not deem an alliance witlii 
 the Chief of the Mahrattas a disgrace." 
 
 By this time the party who had attacked the palankeen had', 
 dispersed, leaving only their leader, and a few followers. These, 
 when sufficient time had been given to secure their captive, 
 suddenly plunged into the recesses of the mountains, with most of 
 which they were familiar, and left the troops of Aunmgzebe to 
 pursue their march, with nothing to protect but their own lives. 
 They emerged from the glen, and in their rage at losing their 
 sovereign's daughter, who had been committed to their custody, 
 they sacrificed the hamauls 'on the spot, determined to represent 
 to the Emperor that the treacherous Hindoos had purposely led 
 them into the pass, in order to betray them into the power of 
 Sevajee. They knew Aurungzebe to be an inexorable man, and 
 feared the consequences of making known to him the loss of his 
 daughter, whilst under their protection. He made no allowance 
 either for accident or contingencies. Whenever anything happened 
 contrary to his expectations, the presumed instruments of failure 
 were generally punished, and too frequently with the loss of life. 
 Like all tyrants, he was without pity ; and his sympathies might 
 really be said never to be excited, save where they received their 
 impulse from something either directly bearing upon, or collate- 
 rally allied to, his own interests. 
 
 The soldiers dreaded an interview with their sovereign, who 
 was at that time encamped near Madura, where he daily expected 
 /lis daughter to join him. She had left the Dcccan for that pur- 
 pose, and was passing the Ghauts, when she was captured by the 
 faring Mahratta, as already related.
 
 The mahratta chief. 4>7 
 
 The princess was borne from her guards, and carried for some 
 hours through the intricate windings of the hills, until at length 
 the bearers stopped before a small mountain fortress. It was still 
 dark, but having emerged from the lower regions of this elevated 
 range, the gloom had considerably diminished, and near objects 
 were sufficiently visible to render the progress of travelling tole- 
 rably certain. The princess was desired to alight from her palan- 
 keen, and being respectfully placed in a sort of basket, ingeniously 
 woven from the husk of the cocoa-nut, was drawn up into the 
 fortress, the entrance of which was through a low portal, termi- 
 nating a narrow landing-place upon the naked side of the hill. 
 Through this, after traversing a short passage, there was an ascent 
 by steps into the fort, which was not extensive, containing a garri- 
 son of only sixty men. 
 
 The Princess Rochinara was ushered into a small but airy 
 chamber ; and two of her women, who had been taken with her, 
 were allowed to attend upon their captive mistress. The jDrincess 
 was at this time only in her seventeenth year, of an agreeable 
 rather than handsome person, finely formed, showy, of a healthy, 
 vigorous constitution, and sprightly countenance. She was a great 
 favourite of her father, and therefore not under much appre- 
 hension from her present captivity, knowing that he would imme- 
 diately make an effort to rescue her from bondage, and the 
 warlike efforts of Aurungzebe had seldom failed of being crowned 
 with success. She knew not into whose power she had fallen, but 
 imagined that a band of mountain robbers had captured her, and 
 intended to retain her, merely for the sake of a liberal ransom, 
 which she was satisfied her parent would never pay, but release 
 her at the point of the sword. 
 
 For a day or two she saw no one but her attendants, and, 
 having been accustomed to the seclusion of the harem, she did not 
 find her solitude at all insupportable. One of her women, who 
 was an adept at story-telling, and had made herself acquainted 
 with many of the singular legends of Hindoo history, entertained, 
 hev mistress by relating some of those monstrous fictions which 
 abound in those two poetical depositories of the marvellous, the
 
 +78 THE M AH R ATT A CHIEP. 
 
 Mahabarat and Ramayana, Thus tlie time was agreeably beguiled, 
 until the princess became, at length, impatient to know something 
 about her captivity, and into whose hands she had fallen. No 
 information was to be obtamed upon this interesting question. 
 A pretty female slave daily brought the gentle captive her food, 
 consisting of the most delicate viands and delicious fruits, but did 
 not utter a word in reply to her questions, which only imparted 
 a keener edge to her anxiety. 
 
 On the fourth morning after Rochlnara had become an occupant 
 of the mountain fortress, an unusual bustle announced an ar- 
 rival ; but nothing could be drawn from the slave when she paid 
 her usual periodical visit ; her lips appeared hermetically sealed, 
 for not even the offer of a liberal bribe could tempt her to unclose 
 them. Patience, therefore, was the only alternative left ; and in 
 all cases of captivity it is a cardinal virtue. The princess, how- 
 ever, was becoming restless ; — she rejected her food — she grew 
 petulant, and no longer listened with any relish to the tales of her 
 favourite woman. Her eyes were often suffused with tears ; but 
 during a rather strong burst of emotion, occasioned more from 
 the idea of being neglected than of being a captive, the door of 
 her prison was opened, and to her surprise, not unmingled with 
 pleasure, her captor stood before her. He was a short, com- 
 pactly built man, apparently under thirty years of age. His face 
 was round and "full-orbed," but every feature small and highly 
 expressive. His eye was intensely brilliant, and seemed to 
 possess a concentration of power that could pierce through any- 
 thing opposed to its gaze. Its expression was somewhat 
 severe — restless, quick, and scrutinising ; but that of every other 
 feature was bland even to playfulness. The forehead was both 
 high and broad, and as smooth as the surface of a mirror. 
 There was no hair on his face, except rather a strong moustache 
 on the upper lip, which was in perfect harmony with the true 
 Oriental cast of his countenance. His neck, bare to the 
 shoulder, was rather short, and as thick as that of a Thessalian 
 bull; whilst his ample expanse of chest denoted that strength
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 479 
 
 and hardihood with which he was particularly endowed. His 
 legs were uncovered to the knee, and modelled with a neat- 
 ness and upon such an exact scale of proportion as to combine 
 masculine beauty with that physical vigour to which true sym- 
 metry is invariably allied. 
 
 The stranger stood with his arms folded before the princess, after 
 having made her a courteous salaam. She gazed upon him at first 
 only without displeasure ; but it was evident, by the gradual 
 brightening of her countenance, that a more minute scrutiny pro- 
 duced something the very opposite of dissatisfaction. She waited 
 several moments for the visitor to address her \ but he remained 
 silent, keeping his eyes steadily fixed upon the interesting Rochi- 
 nara, as if awaiting her commands. An arch smile danced in his 
 eye, and an occasional undulation of the upper lip showed that he 
 was not about to play the ruffian. 
 
 " To whom," said the princess at length, in a gentle voice, "am 
 I indebted for the constrained hospitality to which I am forced to 
 submit ?" 
 
 "To Servajee, Chief of the Mahrattas." 
 
 " But why is the daughter of the Emperor Aurungzebe arrested 
 in her journey, and forced to become an occupant of this fortress ?" 
 
 " Because, lady, the Mahratta chief desires to be upon a better 
 footing with the Emperor of the Moguls, and would make the 
 daughter a medium of alliance with the father." 
 
 " The Princess Rochinara could never stoop to so low a degra- 
 dation as to become the wife of a mountain robber." 
 
 " You mistake lady ; I am a sovereign in these mountain soli- 
 tudes, and all monarchs are equal in moral rights. The name of 
 Sevajee will be heard of among the heads of nations : for who so 
 renowned as the founders of kingdoms? You are in my power; 
 but I shall not use that power to win you to my purpose. I am 
 content to woo; and assure yourself, tliat no woman who can look 
 Upon the sun would be degraded by becoming the wife of the 
 Mahratta chief Whatever you desire, express it, and your com- 
 mand in all things, save quitting this fortress, will be obeyed. We
 
 480 THE MAHRATTA CHIEP. 
 
 shall be better acquainted ; and when you know me, 5'ou may 
 think me something nobler than a robber. We shall meet daily. 
 Farewell !'' 
 
 Making a low obeisance, with a calm smile he quitted the 
 apartment. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE rise of the Mahratta power in India was one of those 
 sudden and surprising revolutions which, amid the troubled 
 currents of political events, have been so frequently seen to spring 
 from the reaction of despotism. The Mogul empire, under the able 
 though absolute direction of Aurungzebe, extended over nearly the 
 whole of India. The most fertile and populous provinces of Hin- 
 dostanwere subjected to the dominion of a tyrant, who, neverthe- 
 less, governed wisely, though he ruled despotically. The extensive 
 plains of the Deccan and of Hindostan proper, which are protected 
 by that elevated chain of mountains called the Ghauts, forming a 
 natural and almost impregnable barrier against irregular and un- 
 disciplined troops, were inhabited by a hardy and active race. 
 They felt the galling yoke of a conqueror ; they were encouraged 
 to resistance by their distance from the capital of their despot, and 
 by the natural barriers which, under judicious management and 
 an enterprising leader, were considered an almost certain pro- 
 tection against the inroads of an invading army. Besides this, the 
 Mahomedan nations had been involved in such constant wars, and 
 the successions of that mighty state were so continually disputed, 
 and so bloodily contested, that ample opportunities were afforded 
 to a leader of daring and comprehensive mind to assemble the 
 disunited members of a vast and dislocated empire, at a distance 
 from the seat of government, and establish them into an inde- 
 pendent community, upon the wreck of that power by which they 
 had been subdued. Such a leader was Sevajee, the founder of the 
 Mahratta dynasty, which finally became the most flourishing in 
 Hindostan. This hero was born in 1627, at Poonah, then a
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 481 
 
 village, but aftenvards the capital of the Mahratta state. He was 
 of noble descent, and great pains seem to have been taken in 
 training him early to deeds of arms. He despised letters, but 
 devoting himself to military exercises, soon commenced that career 
 of enterprise which distinguished him above all the heroes of his 
 day. Before he was eighteen, he had collected together a band of 
 the inhabitants of his native glens, and commenced the daring but 
 inglorious profession of a robber. By degrees he became a terror 
 to the neighbouring princes, in whose territories his depredations 
 were committed. From heading a few profligate adventurers, he 
 rose to be the leader of a small but formidable army. Fortresses 
 and cities submitted to his arms, and he found himself at length 
 master of a considerable extent of territory, with an army of fifty 
 thousand foot and seven thousand horse. 
 
 Such prodigious and rapid accession of power alarmed the 
 jealousy of Aurungzebe, who was by this time securely seated 
 upon the throne of the Moguls, and seemed resolved to extend 
 his conquests to the farthest possible limits. He therefore senl 
 a large body of troops under an experienced leader to crush the 
 rising influence of the Mahrattas ; but the wary conduct of Sevajee, 
 who was prolific in dacoit* stratagems, bafiled the military skill 
 and defeated the enterprises of the Mogul. 
 
 It was to reduce the growing power of this extraordinary man, 
 that the Emperor had marched in person, and was encamped in 
 the neighbourhood of Madura, in order to subdue some refractory 
 Polygars who had disturbed the peace of that district, when his 
 daughter was made captive by Sevajee on her way from the 
 Deccan. So difficult were the various passes of the Ghauts for a 
 regular army to traverse, and so impenetrable the jungles, that 
 Jhe bold Mahratta defied the hostile preparations of Aurungzebe, 
 whose detachments he continually defeated, pouring dc r/n upon 
 them like a deluge from the hills, committing prodigious ravages 
 and retreating beyond the reach of pursuit to his mountain-holds. 
 
 The fortress to which the Princess Rochinara had been con- 
 
 * Dacoit gangs are organised bands of robberi. 
 INPi^^ 1 I
 
 453 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 veyed was situated in one of the most impracticable recesses of 
 the Ghauts. The only approach to it was by a path so narrov/ 
 that two persons could not proceed abreast, and in many places 
 hollowed out of the living rock. It was reached by a gradual 
 ascent of three miles, the road at various places overhung by vast 
 ledges projecting from the precipice by which it was skirted 
 There a few resolute men might defend themselves against a host 
 Besides, this part of the country was so thinly populated, and so 
 seldom visited on account of the asperities which it presented to 
 the traveller, that it remained a sort of terra incognita. Sevajee's re- 
 treats, and among the rest the fortress already mentioned, were 
 known to few or none save his own followers ; so that he felt in 
 perfect security against the irruptions of invaders. 
 
 The captivity of the princess became daily less and less irksome ; 
 all her wishes were complied with, and she finally entertained no 
 further desire to quit a prison where in fact she enjoyed more 
 liberty than in her father's harem. She had been much struck 
 with the frank countenance of the Mahratta, who used daily to 
 visit her, until at length his visits were looked forward to not only 
 with pleasure, but anxiety. 
 
 The princess was young, Sevajee was handsome, and, what is 
 always attractive in the eyes of an Eastern beauty, brave. She 
 quickly felt her heart subdued ; the merits of the Mahratta could 
 not escape her woman's scrutiny, quickened as this soon was by 
 certain tender predilections. 
 
 She now frequently challenged the opinions of her women 
 upon Sevajee's merits, to which they appeared as keenly alive as 
 their mistress, and it was finally no secret thrccghout the garrison 
 that their chief had obtained a conquest over the affections of 
 the Princess Rochinara. 
 
 The royal captive had attracted the admiration of one of 
 Sevajee's officers, in whose bravery and conduct his chief had 
 great confidence. One day when Sevajee was abroad, this officer 
 ventured to delare himself to the interesting captive. He was 
 rejected with indignation. His passions were roused, and he 
 treated the princess with unmanly violence. She was saved from
 
 THE MA HR ATT A CHIEF. 483 
 
 his brutality by the interference of one of the garrison, who, upon 
 Sevajee's return, informed him of what had happened. The 
 Mahratta made no reply, but repairing to the princess's apartment, 
 learnt from her the precise particulars. Summoning the garrison 
 before him, he thus addressed the offender : — 
 
 " You have violated the sanctity of a warrior's home. Arms 
 are placed in our hands to protect, not insult the weak. You 
 must expiate the wrong you have committed. I stand forward as 
 the champion of an insulted woman. You are brave, and know 
 how to defend yourself. There is space within these ramparts to 
 try your prowess against mine. Arm yourself, and let this matter 
 be instantly decided." 
 
 Sevajee took his sword, and the combatants repaired to the 
 summit of the rock. His adversary was much taller and bigger than 
 himself, but far less active and firmly set. He was, however, a 
 hardy, desperate fellow, who had proved his valour in many a 
 rough encounter. He smiled as he stood before his chief, as if 
 the contest were to him a pastime. Both were armed with a 
 short sabre, a shield, and a broad-bladed dagger stuck in 
 their girdles. The shield was small, reaching from the wrist to 
 the elbow of the left hand, rising to a cone, and terminated by a 
 sharp brass boss. It was covered with an untanned hide. 
 
 Sevajee commenced the strife by darting upon the offender 
 with the quickness of an eagle's spring, dashing his shield against 
 that of his opponent, and wounding him with considerable severity 
 on the hip. The man, however, coolly forced backward his 
 indignant chief, and recovering his own guard, advanced upon 
 him with a calm, sullen smile, and struck at his head with a force 
 that would have reached through the skull to the chine, had not 
 the interposing shield caught the blow, and frustrasted the intended 
 mischief: it however struck the boss from the buckler, and 
 shattered the frame so completely that Sevajee was obliged to 
 cast it from him, and expose himself unprotected to the attack of 
 his formidable foe. Trusting, however, to his activity, he parried 
 the blows of his adversary, and baffled his advances by springing 
 
 I I 2
 
 4S4 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 on one sids ; the other, exhausted from fatigue and loss of blood, 
 dropped his sword ; Sevajee instantly raised his and struck him to 
 the earth. His arm was nearly severed, just below the shoulder, 
 and in this sad state, reeking with gore, he was lowered from the 
 fortress, either to die or make his escape. 
 
 This feat of gallantry, in vindication of an insult offered to the 
 daughter of Aurungzebe, completely decided her affections. She 
 accepted the Mahratta's proposals, and from this time felt a greater 
 pride in being the wife of a petty sovereign than the daughter of 
 a mighty emperor. 
 
 Sevajee now daily increased in power and influence among the 
 sovereigns of the principalities by which he was surrounded. He 
 was enabled to muster an army of fifteen thousand men, and had 
 become the terror of the neighbouring potentates. He was, to all 
 intents and purposes, sovereign of the Mahrattas, and had made 
 the daughter of Aurungzebe his queen, with her own consent, 
 before she had been in his power two months. His followers 
 were a hardy race, selected from all tribes for their daring exploits, 
 or feats of personal strength. 
 
 A common cooley or porter of the mountains had been admitted 
 into his army, and finally raised to a place of trust ; the first, in conse- 
 quence of a singular act of daring, and the last by an uniform 
 adherence to the interests of his master. As the act was singular 
 which first brought this man under the notice of the Mahratta 
 chief, it may be worth recording. 
 
 Sevajee was one day passing through a mountain jungle, when 
 a leopard appeared making its way stealthily through the bushes, 
 as if threatening hostility. The cooley was descending the hill at 
 this moment, and seeing the leopard, volunteered to attack it, with 
 a weapon as singular as it was formidable. Opening a small 
 leathern wallet, he took from it an iron instrument, which fitted the 
 hand, covering the fingers like a gauntlet. Beyond the tips of the 
 fingers, it extended to the length of at least three inches, curving 
 like claws, tapered to a point as sharp as the tip of a dagger, being 
 brought to an edge under the curve, nearly as keen as '■'^t of a
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 4^5 
 
 razor. The man fixed it on his hand,* and entered the jungle. 
 The leopard seemed uneasy at his approach, waved its tail, rested 
 its head upon the earth, yet made no attempt to spring. The 
 cooley did not give his enemy time to commence an attack, but 
 advancing boldly, stiiick it on the right eye, and drawing the 
 instrument across its head, blinded it in a moment. The wounded 
 beast started up, and yelled in agony ; when the man deliberately 
 plunged the weapon under its belly, opened a prodigious gash, and 
 the animal's entrails protruded through the wound. It rushed 
 forward, and came with such stunning contact against a tree, that 
 it instantly fell, turned upon its back, and not being able to see 
 its aggressor, another stroke from the instrument despatched it : 
 the victor returned to Sevajee without a scratch. This won the 
 Mahratta's admiration; the cooley was immediately enrolled in 
 Sevajee's army, and from henceforth became a distinguished man. 
 It was of similar daring spirits that the followers of this formi- 
 dable chieftaiiiwere composed; and when they became numerous, 
 they roused the apprehension of Aurungzebe, who was determined 
 to crush a rising power that threatened to shake the Mogul throne. 
 When made acquainted with his daughter's captivity, he resolved 
 that her deliverance should involve the death of his foe. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE Mahratta, who had been wounded by Sevajee, on being 
 lowered from the fortress, lay some time upon the ground 
 exhausted from loss of blood. As evening advanced, he crawled 
 into a thicket, and threw himself at the root of a tree surrounded 
 with high coarse grass, upon which he slept until the morning, 
 iie tore his turban into strips as well as he Avas able, stanched 
 the blood that flowed copiously from his wounds, and bound them 
 
 * A similar instniment is frequently used by the fakeers when they are 
 passing through the jungles, and with like success.
 
 486 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 up. By the next morning his limbs were so stiff that he could 
 scarcely move ; he was parched with a painful thirst ; his head 
 was confused, and objects floated before his sight in ten thousand 
 fantastic configurations. A thin spring welled from a chasm in the 
 hill ; and being acquainted with the locality, thither he dragged 
 his enfeebled body, and bathed his temple in the limpid waters. 
 He drank copiously of the pure element, and was somewhat re- 
 freshed. Still, unable to use much exertion, he cast himself again 
 at the root of the tree and slept. 
 
 Thus passed the day. The second night came, and he was 
 still there, helpless as a babe. He thought that here his death- 
 bed was made, and resigned himself with sullen courage to his 
 fate. The cries of the jackal disturbed his slumbers, and con- 
 tinually reminded him that he was at the mercy of the prowling 
 beast of the forest. The bright moon looked from her glorious 
 temple of serene and delicate blue, illuminating the boundless 
 expanse through v/hich she marched to her zenith with the 
 majesty and beauty of a thing of heaven, and poured the gentle 
 stream of her light upon the wounded Mahratta, who slept in spite 
 of bodily prostration and of mental suffering. The morning 
 broke upon him bright and cloudless. He was relieved, and his 
 limbs less stiff; for it is astonishing how rapidly the natives of 
 eastern countries recover from the most desperate wounds, owing 
 to their habits of excessive temperance. He quitted the jungle, 
 and proceeded leisurely down the mountain. His progress was 
 slow and difficult ; and he was frequently obliged to seek the cool 
 recesses of the forest in order to recruit his exhausted frame. 
 
 After a toilsome march of two days he reached the bottom of 
 the Ghauts. He knew that a detachment of Au.rungzebe's army 
 ]ay encamped in the plains. It was commanded by a general of 
 reputation, and amounted to fifteen thousand men, prepared to 
 attack Sevajee in his stronghold ; but the difiiculty was how to 
 reach this through the numerous mountain ravines among which 
 it was concealed and protected. 
 
 The wounded man crawled into the camp and desired to be 
 conducted to the general's tent. " I can lead you to the abode of
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 487 
 
 Sevajee," he cried. This was sufficient to remove all reluctance 
 from the minds of the soldiers, who at first showed a disinchnation 
 to conduct the stranger to their general. They suspected him to 
 be a spy ; but the possibility of his being a traitor gave him a 
 better claim to their courtesy, and they brought him to the tent of 
 the Omrah, under whose command they acted. 
 
 " What is your motive, soldier/' inquired the general, " for 
 entering an enemy's camp." 
 
 " Behold these wounds !" said the man. " They were inflicted 
 by the tyrant who now holds sway over the Mahrattas. That is 
 my sufficient answer why I appear in the Mogul camp." 
 
 " Personal enmities are but a poor recommendation to confi- 
 dence. He who would betray a friend would be little likely to 
 serve a foe." 
 
 "Where a person has his revenge to gratify, you have the 
 strongest guarantee for confidence. Apart from all motives that 
 raise man in the scale of moral dignity, that wrong which stimu- 
 lates to vengeance will render him true to those who promote 
 his deadly purposes ; for vengeance is like the raging thirst of 
 fever, never to be slaked till the cause is removed. Until mine 
 is appeased, you may trust me ; after that I make no pledges. 
 Do you accept my services ?" 
 
 " What do you undertake to perform ?" 
 
 " For a sum of ten thousand rupees, to be paid after the terms 
 of the contract have been fulfilled, I undertake to conduct you 
 to the fortress in these mountains where Sevajee usually resides, 
 and to put you in possession of it. I have a brother among the 
 troops who compose the garrison. He will, I know, promote any 
 scheme that shall bring retribution upon him by whom I have 
 been so grievously wronged. Send a body of fifteen hundred 
 men, when I am sufficiently recovered to march with them, and 
 ray life for the issue." 
 
 This plan was concurred in, the man taken to a tent, and his 
 wounds dressed. In three weeks he was in a condition to proceed 
 against the stronghold of the Mahratta chief Fifteen hundred 
 men were selected for the enterprise; and these were followed
 
 488 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 
 
 at a short distance by another strong detachment, unknown to 
 the Mahratta guide in case of treachery. 
 
 For two days they threaded the mazes of the hills by paths 
 almost impracticable, and halted in the evening of the second 
 day in a wood about three miles from the fortress. The Mah- 
 ratta, quitting the camp, proceeded up the hill alone, and making 
 a certain signal, well known to the garrison was drawn up the 
 rock. The soldiers were surprised at beholding their old com- 
 rade, who had been so recently expelled, and whom they all con- 
 sidered to have furnished a feast for vultures or jackals. He 
 desired to be conducted before their chief, to whom he expressed 
 the deepest contrition for what had passed, and begged to be 
 again admitted among that community from which he had been 
 expelled. Sevajee, deceived by the soldier's apparent contrition, 
 and knowing him to be a man of great daring and skill in con- 
 ducting a perilous enterprise, consented to his re-admission among 
 ■/lis hardy band of mountain warriors. 
 
 Before quitting his new allies, the traitor had arranged that, 
 should he gain admission into the fort, he would, in conjunction 
 with his brother, admit them during the midnight watch : that if 
 the thing turned out not to be practicable on that night, they 
 must retire into the thickets, and there await the desired oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 An hour before midnight a body of four hundred men wound 
 slowly up the hill by the dim light of the stars, and concealed 
 themselves in a hollow about two hundred yards from the fort. 
 This hollow was covered with a thick growth of jungle grass and 
 underwood, which effectually concealed them from observation. 
 The Mahratta had contrived that his brother should be upon 
 guard at midnight at that part of the ramparts where admission 
 was obtained into the fort. 
 
 The matter had been so secretly arranged, that nearly a 
 hundred of the Moguls were drawn up into the fortress before any 
 alarm was given. A soldier hurried to Sevajee's apartment, and 
 roused him with the unexpected cry of — " We are surprised ! 
 the Moguls have obtained possession of our mountain citadel"
 
 THE M AH R ATT A CHIEF. 489 
 
 The Mahratta chief grasped his sword, and hurried to that part 
 of the ramparts where the two brothers were in the act of drawing 
 up the enemy. As there was but an uncertain light, his approach 
 was not observed. With the quickness of thought he severed 
 the cord just as a Mogul soldier had been drawn to the landing 
 place. He did not stay to hear the crash of the succeeding 
 fall, but cutting down the traitor who had admitted the foe, 
 made a speedy retreat to collect the slumbering garrison. He 
 was shortly surrounded by his faithful followers, who all flew to 
 the ramparts. 
 
 The Moguls had already destroyed several of the Mahrattas 
 who were taken by surprise, and in the suddenness of their alarm 
 had started unarmed from their beds. Sevajee fought like a lion. 
 The darkness gave him a great advantage over the enemy, who 
 were perfectly ignorant of the localities, though their guide, the 
 treacherous Mahratta, had given them what information the hurry 
 and confusion of the scene permitted. Sevajee sought him out 
 amid the fierce struggle of attack and resistance. They perceived 
 each other in the imperfect light ; the rebel would have retired, 
 but the indignant chief arrested his purpose, and compelled him 
 to turn in self-defence. Knowing Sevajee's skill at his weapon, 
 the Mahratta sprang upon and closed with him, hoping to 
 despatch him with his own dagger ; but this purpose was foiled 
 by his active foe, who drew it suddenly from his cumberbund, 
 and flung it over the battlements. The struggle was now des- 
 perate. They tugged and strained with the fury of gored bulls. 
 They glared in each other's faces, inhaling the hot breath as it 
 came quick and gasping from their parched throats, and steaming 
 at every pore with the might of their exertions. At length Sevajee, 
 dashing his head in the face of his foe, obliged him partially to 
 relax his hold, and at the same moment springing backward, 
 entirely disengaged himself; and while the other was half stunned, 
 he suddenly rushed forward, forced his head between the traitor's 
 legs, raised him upon his neck, and with irresistible force flung 
 him over the battlements. 
 
 Sevajee again seized his sword; but perceiving that the Moguls
 
 <(9<j THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 were masters of the fortress, he flew to the princess : — " You are 
 in the enemy's power — you will be taken to your friends, and 
 have therefore nothing to fear — with me, captivity is the harbinger 
 of death." 
 
 " Fly," said Rochinara eagerly ; " if there is yet a chance of 
 escape, seize it, and leave me to make my peace with the 
 victors." 
 
 There was no time for parley. Sevajee proceeded to a part of 
 the rampart which abutted upon a face of the hill, where the 
 precipice was here and there feathered with shrubs, that grew 
 from the interstices of the rock, and its surface broken into in- 
 equalities by projecting ledges, which would not have afforded 
 footing for a goat. At the bottom rolled a deep stream, that 
 gurgled through a straitened channel, and foamed between large 
 masses which had fallen into it from the superincumbent moun- 
 tain. 
 
 The moment was critical. Sevajee commenced this perilous 
 descent. His danger was imminent. The small projections to 
 which he was obliged to trust his footing frequently gave way 
 under the pressure of his step, and he several times despaired of 
 making his escape. About midway the shrub which he had 
 grasped proved too weak to support his weight, and he slipped 
 several yards down the precipice. His course was luckily arrested 
 by a thick bush, something like a huge tuft of birch, which at 
 once broke his fall and arrested his progress. 
 
 He was now within forty feet of the water. Here, to the edge 
 of the rivulet, the hill was less precipitous ; and having paused a 
 few moments to rest himself, he determined to slide down the 
 rest of the precipice into the stream, which would break the force 
 of his fall, though it would expose him to the chance of being 
 drowned. Tearing up part of the bush, he placed it under him, 
 in order to prevent himself from being woundet. ' by the rocky 
 projections of the hill. It was a desperate hazard; but he at 
 length let himself slip from the ledge. Sustaining some severe 
 bruises, he was precipitated vdth considerable violence into the 
 rivulet, which fortunately happened at this spot to be deep, and
 
 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 491 
 
 its channel tolerably free from masses of rock. After a short 
 struggle he gained the opposite bank, and was soon beyond the 
 reach of pursuit. 
 
 Meanwhile the princess was taken from the fortress, and borne 
 by easy marches to Delhi, whither her lather had retired, leaving 
 his generals to complete the conquest of the Deccan and the 
 subjection of the Mahrattas, 
 
 Aurungzebe was greatly exasperated when he discovered that 
 she was about to become a mother. She had ever been his 
 favourite child, and he calculated upon marrying her to some 
 powerful prince, v/ho would strengthen his political influence. 
 She was confined to the harem, and he refused to see her. As 
 soon as her babe was born, it was taken from her, and put under 
 the care of a nurse, no one knew where. It being a boy, the 
 Emperor was determined that it should be brought up in igno- 
 rance of its birth. The mother was wretched at being separated 
 from her infant. The Mahratta chief had ever treated her with 
 tenderness and respect, and she was far less happy amid the 
 splendours of the imperial palace than in the rude citadel of the 
 mountain warrior. She implored to be allowed to see her child ; 
 but her parent was inexorable, and the bereaved mother poured 
 out her silent sorrows amid the monotonous seclusion of the 
 harem, where she found neither sympathy nor consolation. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SEVAJEE soon summoned his warriors into the field, and, at 
 the head of ten thousand men, invested the fortress of which 
 the Moguls had possessed themselves. In the course of a few 
 weeks he starved them into a surrender. From this time he so 
 rapidly extended his conquests that he was looked upon as a 
 formidable potentate even by the haughty Aurungzebe. He sacked 
 the neighbouring cities, and so enriched himself with the plunder, 
 that he was finally enabled to appear in the field at the head of a
 
 492 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 very fomiidible army. His personal prowess and conduct as a 
 leader were the theme of universal praise. Though he could 
 neither read nor wiite, yet so exact and tenacious was his memory, 
 that the smallest disbursements of his government were never for- 
 gotten, and no one could dare attempt to deceive him, even in 
 the minutest matters of financial computation, without certainty 
 of detection. He knew the name of almost every man in his 
 army. 
 
 Some time after his escape from the fortress, he was surprised 
 by the imperial general with only a few hundred followers. In this 
 dilemma the Mahratta chief intimated to the Mogul general that 
 he should be very willing to submit to his master's clemency, but 
 was afraid to trust his own person to the mercy of a man who felt 
 such deadly hostility towards him. He consequently proposed a 
 meeting between himself and the imperial general at a distance 
 from their respective armies, and that each party should repair to 
 the spot accompanied by only one attendant. Not doubting that 
 this proposal would be acceded to, the wily Mahratta put a suit 
 of strong chain armour under his cotton robe, and a steel cap 
 under his turban. Then arming himself with a dagger, he 
 proceeded to the place of meeting. 
 
 According to his military code of morals, treachery towards an 
 enemy was, under any circumstances, justifiable : he therefore 
 determined to employ it upon the present occasion at all hazards. 
 Distributing his men in ambuscades near the spot, he soon had the 
 Fatisfaction of seeing the Mogul draw near with an escort of 
 eight hundred men, whom he left at some distance, and advanced 
 with a single follower to the appointed place of meeting. Sevajee 
 appeared apparently unarmed, expressing great apprehension and 
 afiecting alarm at the presence of his enemy. At length, coming 
 up with hesitating steps, according to the Oriental custom, he 
 embraced his foe, at the same moment drawing his dagger and 
 plunging it into his body. The Mogul, feeling himself wounded, 
 instantly drew his sword and struck Sevajee on the head, which 
 was protected by the steel cap ; the blow therefore fell harmless, 
 and the wounded general sank under the repeated stabs of his
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 493 
 
 treacherous assailant. His attendant, rushing to his master's 
 assistance, was Ukewise slain. 
 
 The blast of a horn roused the Mahrattas from their ambuscade, 
 and falling upon the Moguls thus taken by surprise, they slew a 
 great number, and the rest, panic-stricken, fell back upon the 
 main body, carrying the melancholy intelligence of their leader's 
 death. Meanwhile the Mahrattas escaped among the intricacies 
 of the mountains, and the Moguls were forced to retreat. Sevajee 
 next marched with his victorious troops to Singurh, one of his 
 strongest fortresses, which had been wrested from him by the 
 Moguls. Like all hill-forts, it was built upon the summit of a 
 lofty rock that rose to the height of ninety feet from a deep glen. 
 It was considered inaccessible on all sides. At the back, where 
 the precipice declined gradually inward from the summit, the ram- 
 parts were not so strong, as any attempt on that side appeared 
 utterly impracticable. On the ridge just outside the parapet that 
 beetled over the base of the rock, grew several trees, the roots of 
 which were partly bared, and projected from the naked face of the 
 hill, in which they were fixed with a tenacity peculiar to those 
 mountain trees that vegetate amid the most scanty supplies of 
 earth, and insert their tough fibres between the fissures of rock 
 composing the face of the precipice. 
 
 The daring Mahratta was determined upon regaining possession 
 of this stronghold, and having fixed upon the point of attack 
 prepared his followers for the desperate enterprise. These con- 
 sisted of a thousand Mawabees, mountain marauders, who followed 
 the fortunes of their leader, seduced by the hope of plunder and 
 the love of adventure. Choosing a dark night, he resolved to 
 enter the fort on the least practicable side, where he knew such 
 an attempt would never be suspected. Having procured a long 
 cord as thick as a man's thumb, he caused it to be knotted at 
 intervals of about two feet. When this was prepared, he placed 
 it upon his shoulder and proceeded alone to the fortress through 
 an unfrequented part of the mountain, ordering his men to follow 
 in small parties, and unite in a thicket a few hundred yards from 
 the base of the rock.
 
 494 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 Arriving at the desired spot, Sevajee took a leaden ball, and 
 attaching it securely to a slight cord, threw the former, with a pre- 
 cision which only long practice in similar feats could have pro- 
 duced, over the projecting root of one of the trees that grew 
 beneath the battlements. This done, he drew the rope with which 
 lie had come provided gradually up, and contrived, by means of 
 the small cord, to pass a hook, fixed to the end of the knotted rope, 
 over the root. The hook, upon being pressed by means of a 
 spring, clasped the object upon which it rested with a perfectly 
 secure hold. 
 
 Everything being now ready, the Mahratta summoned his 
 band. There were no sentinels placed upon that side of the ram- 
 part, on account of the supposed impracticability of an ascent. 
 The night happened to be extremely dark, which favoured the 
 purpose of the assailants. Sevajee mounted first. With the 
 agility of a cat he clambered up the rope and quickly gained the 
 ramparts. The next that followed, being a heavy man, and not 
 over active, paused about twenty feet from the ground, alarmed at 
 the motion of the rope, which swayed with such a rapid and 
 violent oscillation that he was unable to proceed; and after hang- 
 ing a few moments by his hands, his feet having slipped from the 
 knot on which they rested, he quitted his hold and fell to the 
 ground. 
 
 He had nearly disconcerted the whole enteiprise. There was 
 an awful pause. None of the Mawabees attempted to mount. 
 Sevajee began to grow impatient. Shaking the rope, and finding 
 there was no weight upon it, he slid down to ascertain the cause. 
 This was soon explained, but no one would venture to ascend. 
 The Mahratta, unappalled by the general refusal, approached the 
 man who had fallen, and instantly ordered him to mount. He 
 refused, and Sevajee, without a moment's hesitation, plunged his 
 creese into the rebel's heart. He now gave the same order to a 
 second. Terrified at the fate of his companion, the Mawabee 
 grasped the rope, and Sevajee followed close after, to prevent him 
 from quitting his hold. With much difficulty they reached the 
 top, when the undaunted Mahratta descen4ed; and forced another
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 495 
 
 of his followers to go before him. This he repeated until more 
 than a dozen men had gained the parapet. Taking courage from 
 the success of their companions, the rest attempted the ascent one 
 after another, until the whole were safely raised to the battle- 
 ment. 
 
 Sevajee was the tirst to leap over the wall, A sentinel, alarmed 
 at the noise, hastily approached ; the Mahratta chief seized him 
 by the cumberbund and the trousers, and swinging him over the 
 parapet, cast him into the empty void beneath. He uttered 
 a shrill shriek as he fell, which seemed to rise to the very 
 heavens, like a sudden peal from the grave, so quick and piercing 
 as to vibrate to the brain with a painful intensity. In a few 
 moments the whole garrison were in arms, and the struggle com- 
 menced. They had, however, the double disadvantage of con- 
 tending against superior numbers and the shock of sudden sur- 
 prise ; nevertheless, they resisted with the fury of madmen. They 
 demanded no quarter, and none was given. 
 
 The whole garrison Avas cut off to a man, and the morning 
 dawned upon a scene of carnage never to be forgotten. Not a 
 single Mogul survived to tell the melancholy story of defeat, and 
 the Mahratta chief took possession of Singurh amid the shouts of 
 a sanguinary triumph. The bodies of the slain were flung over 
 the batdements to be devoured by birds and beasts of prey, their 
 bones to whiten in the mountain wilds, under the scorching beams 
 of a tropical sun, far from the home of their fathers, of their wives 
 and little ones, and where the solemn rites of sepulture were 
 denied to their remains. 
 
 By degrees, Sevajee obliged ths imperial troops to evacuate the 
 mountains ; and after a while they were recalled to Delhi by 
 Aurungzebe, who was exceedingly mortified at being thus per- 
 petually baffled by a mountain chieftain, whose principle of 
 government was a mere system of predatory warfare, in which he 
 extended his political influence and his territory by any measure, 
 however inconsonant to the genera! practices of military conduct 
 Sevajee now began to be conscious of his power, and determined 
 therefore to seek more advantageous conquests. His career was
 
 496 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 attempted to be checked by Shaista Chan, an omrah high in the 
 confidence of Aurungzebe. This general advanced with a for- 
 midable army against the Mahratta, and carried on his operations 
 for some time with great success. Sevajee was unable to meet 
 the Moguls in the field, and therefore had recourse to that mode 
 of predatory and irruptive warfare which had hitherto been 
 attended with such success. The Mogul, however, somewhat 
 altered his tactics in order to contravene those of his enemy, and 
 with such advantage that he reduced Sevajee to considerable 
 embarrassment. Finding that the imperial troops were daily 
 obtaining a stronger footing in his dominions, having taken several 
 of his forts, the Mahratta determined to have recourse to one of 
 those bold and daring exploits for which his whole military career 
 has been so celebrated, and which had invariably been attended 
 with signal success. 
 
 Shaista Chan, having made himself master of Poonah, the 
 capital of Sevajee's dominions, situated upon the banks of a 
 considerable river, on the level country, about fifty miles from the 
 Ghauts, occupied the palace of the Mahratta chief. The town 
 was at this time little better than a village, surrounded by a low 
 mud wall, and easily accessible from every quarter. Shaista, not 
 imagining that the bold adventurer, who was only secure among 
 the hills, would venture to attack him in the open country, was 
 rather remiss in placing guards round the town to anticipate any 
 sudden assault. Taking advantage of this remissness, Sevajee 
 selected a small band of resolute soldiers, advanced towards 
 Toonah, and concealed himself in the neighbourhood. Having 
 heard that a Mogul chief, jealous of Shaista Chan's influence widi 
 the Emperor, had secretly expressed strong sentiments of dis- 
 aftection, he found means to tamper with him, and seduced him at 
 length to favour his enterprise. 
 
 The residence of the imperial general was a large loose building 
 composed entirely of mud. Having been admitted into the town 
 about midnight, and the giwrds previously removed through the 
 management of the treacherous Omrah, Sevajee and his followers, 
 armed with pickaxes, attacked the frail wall, and soon forced an
 
 fHE MAHRA7TA CHIEF. 497 
 
 entrance into the cook-room. Raising a shout of exuUation they 
 rushed into the interior of the house, brandishing their naked 
 swords. At the head of them appeared their chief, encouraging 
 them to the work of slaughter. Shaista, hearing the clamour, 
 started from his bed ; but not having time to arm himself, was 
 obliged to make his escape through a window. In eftecting this, 
 however, he was severely wounded by the Mahratta chief, who 
 severed one of the fingers from his right hand, and likewise slew 
 his son. The Mogul general, overcome by this disaster, and 
 dreading the further Jealousy of his own officers, solicited his 
 recall. He shortly after quitted the Deccan, and the army being 
 placed under an inactive commander, all military operations 
 against the Mahrattas were for a time suspended, and Sevajee 
 soon recovered what he had lately lost. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AURUNGZEBE, exasperated beyond all bounds at being thus 
 perpetually foiled by a petty chieftain, determined at once 
 to stop the further progress of his amis. He therefore sent 
 against him Mirza Rajah, a gallant Rajpoot, accustomed to make 
 war in a mountainous country. Sevajee at length found himself 
 opposed to a man whom he was unable to resist. As the Mogul 
 army more than five times outnumbered his own, he was obliged 
 to retreat to his mountain fastnesses, whither he was pursued by 
 the victorious Mirza. All his fortresses shortly fell into the 
 enemy's hands, and he was driven to extremity. At length, the 
 fort in which he had placed all his treasure was invested. 
 
 It resisted for many weeks; but one mom>*^, when the 
 magazine was open to supply the garrison with powder, a paper 
 kite, to which a blind match had been previously attached, was 
 raised over the battlements and dropped into the combustible re- 
 pository. A tremendous explosion succeeded, and the fortress 
 became an easy capture. Finding that he had no chance of being 
 
 INDIA, K K
 
 498 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF'. 
 
 able to recover it, he resigned himself to his destiny, and upon 
 receiving a solemn pledge from Mirza Rajah that he should meet 
 at Delhi with a safe and honourable reception, he disbanded his 
 army, and delivered himself up to the victorious Rajpoot. 
 
 On his arrival at Delhi, the Mahratta chief was ordered into 
 the Emperor's presence, and commanded by the usher to make 
 the usual prostration ; but he refused to obey, and casting towards 
 Aurungzebe a look of indignant scorn, expressed contempt for his 
 person. 
 
 " I am now in your power," he said haughtily ; " but your 
 victory over me has been to you a disgrace, and to me a triumph. 
 You have subdued me by mere numerical force. For years, with 
 a few hardy followers, I have baffled your hosts. You have at 
 length taken captive the object of your dread : but princes should 
 not forget their pledges. When I delivered myself into the hands 
 of your general, I was assured of honourable treatment. Am I 
 then to be degraded by being commanded to prostrate myself before 
 a man, even though he be Emperor of the Moguls ? We are both 
 sovereigns, and be assured that the ]\Iahratta chieftain will never 
 pay that adoration to man which is due alone to God." 
 
 Aurungzebe did not condescend to reply. He was deeply 
 incensed, and turning to the usher, ordered that the refractory 
 prisoner should be taken from his presence. In spite, however, 
 of this rude bearing, the Emperor was much struck with the un- 
 bending boldness of the mountain warrior. He could not but 
 feel respect for the man who had for years defeated his armies, and 
 raised himself to sovereignty from being chief of a mere band of 
 robbers. The exploits of Sevajee had reached as far as Delhi, and 
 public curiosity was excited to see this remarkable man. His 
 bearing in the imperial presence astonished all who heard him, 
 nor were they less surprised at the forbearance of Aurungzebe, 
 who was not generally backward in administering summary justice 
 where occasion seemed to demand it. 
 
 It happened that, while the Mahratta chief was before the 
 Emperor, the principal ladies of his harem saw what passed from 
 behind a curtain. Among these was the Princess Rochinara, to
 
 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 4^ 
 
 whom the memory of Sevajee was still dear, though the lapse of 
 years had somewhat weakened her former impressions. She had 
 never been allowed to see her child, nor would her father ever 
 give her the least information respecting him. This was a bitter 
 penalty for having degraded herself in the eyes of the haughty 
 representative of the house of Timour, by an alliance with a petty 
 chieftain, whom that proud potentate looked upon in no other light 
 than that of a mere marauder. The princess had often sighed 
 for the freedom she had enjoyed during her short abode in the 
 mountains which overlooked the coast of Malabar. 
 
 When Sevajee appeared before the Emperor, all Rochinara's 
 former partialities revived. She was struck with his lofty deport- 
 ment of fearless independence. The toils and military enterprises 
 of years had not abated the fire of his eye, or the beauty of his 
 person. He was still the man to win alike a lady's love and the 
 warrior's admiration. When the princess perceived the silent 
 indignation of her father, as he ordered the noble Mahratta to be 
 removed from his presence, she trembled for the safety of a man 
 whom she felt to be still dear to her. His boldness, and the repu- 
 tation of his exploits, had won the admiration of many Omrahs of 
 the Emperor's court, and they interceded with their indignant 
 master in behalf of the captive. Aurungzebe,not withstanding 
 their intercession, expressed his determination to confine Sevajee 
 for life, recalling to mind with a bitterness which years had failed 
 to mitigate, the disgrace he had heaped upon the house of Timour, 
 by espousing, without her parent's consent, a princess of that 
 illustrious race. 
 
 Hearing that her father was inexorable, Rochinara sought his 
 presence, and falling at his feet, pleaded for the liberty of his 
 prisoner, and endeavoured to extenuate his conduct at the late 
 interview. 
 
 " Though I despise pomp," said the Emperor, in a tone of 
 severe solemnity, " I will ever insist upon receiving those honours 
 which the refractory presume to refuse. Power depends as much 
 upon the empty pageantries and ceremonies of state as upon 
 abilities and strength of mind. The former, in fact, are the most 
 
 K K 2
 
 500 THE M AH R ATT A CHIEF. 
 
 successful instruments of the latter. When the rebel, whom I 
 have condescended to admit into my presence, knows how to 
 honour the sovereign of the Moguls, he may expect his indulgence," 
 
 " Allow him, my father, another interview, but abate somewhat 
 of the rigour of court form. In his native mountains he has not 
 learned to be courtly, but nature has taught him to be magnani- 
 mous ; and let not Aurungzebe, though mighty, yield to him in 
 this, or in any other quality which the brave respect." 
 
 " Well, then, to please a daughter whom I love, I will indulge 
 the haughty mountaineer with a remission of some portion of that 
 state-ceremony which it is customary to offer in the imperial 
 presence, and of that external homage which conquered princes 
 owe to the Emperor of the Moguls." 
 
 A message was sent by Rochinara in the warmth of her zeal to 
 the keeper of Sevajee's prison; and the Mahratta, without being 
 consulted upon the measure, was introduced into the Dewan 
 A-um, or hall of public audience. The con'ugated brow and 
 compressed lip, apparent to all present, as he entered, proclaimed 
 in terms sufficiently intelligible his determination not to succumb 
 to a superior. 
 
 When he had reached the centre of the hall, the usher advanced 
 ;),nd commanded him to make the customary obeisance at the foot 
 of the throne. 
 
 "I was born a prince," said Sevajee, "and am incapable of 
 acting the part of a bondsman. Chains cannot enslave the soul 
 of the free." 
 
 "But the vanquished," replied Aurungzebe, "lose all their 
 rights with their fortune. The chance of war has made the 
 Mahratta chief my servant, and I am resolved to relinquish 
 nothing of what the sword has given." 
 
 " The chance of war has indeed placed me in your power ; but 
 not as your servant. I received the pledge of your general that 
 I should be treated as a prince, not as a slave. I have yet to 
 learn if the sovereign of a great empire can descend to the low 
 and pitiable degradation of a U^ "
 
 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 501 
 
 "The law of the conqueror is his will — of the vanquished, 
 obedience." 
 
 Sevajee turned his back upon the throne : Aurungzebe, losing 
 his usual equanimity, started from his seat : his lip quivered, 
 his cheek became blanched, his hand was laid upon his dagger, 
 and he was about to issue some terrible order against Sevajee, 
 when that prince turning towards him said, with an undaunted 
 tone — 
 
 " Emperor of the Moguls, restore to me your daughter, whom 
 you have torn from the protection of a husband, and I will honour 
 you as a father : give me back my child, which you have with- 
 held from the longings of a parent, and I will venerate you as a 
 benefactor : restore me to my subjects, and I, as a tributary 
 prince, will acknowledge your supremacy : but be assured that no 
 reverse of fortune can deprive me of my dignity of mind, which 
 nothing shall extinguish but death." 
 
 The Emperor's wrath appeared to subside at this request, which 
 he affected to treat as absurd. Pretending to look upon Sevajee 
 as a madman, he ordered him from his presence and gave him 
 in charge to the director-general of the imperial camp, who had 
 orders to subject him to a rigorous confinement. He was in con- 
 sequence imprisoned in that officer's house, and guarded with a 
 vigilance that seemed to defy all chance of escape. 
 
 Months flew by, and Sevajee became extremely uneasy under 
 his captivity, which was however relieved by occasional communi. 
 cations from the princess ; she having contrived to convey infor- 
 mation to him from time to time by means of a person who was 
 permitted to enter h.is prison with flowers. This man was well 
 known to tlie director-general, who had the highest confidence in 
 him ; but the gold of Rochinara and the promises of remuneration 
 made by the Mahratta, corrupted the integrity of the vendor of 
 flowers, and he finally became instrumental to one of the most 
 extraordinary escapes which the pen of history records. For 
 weeks he had been in the habit of visiting the prisoner at stated 
 periods, under the plea of selling him flowers, of which the latter
 
 S03 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 
 
 afifected to be extremely fond. Not the slightest suspicion was 
 awakened. 
 
 One morning the usual attendant entered Sevajee's prison with 
 his first meal, but to his astonishment found that the captive had 
 escaped. Upon the floor lay a man apparently in deep slumber. 
 He was upon his face, quite naked. An alarm was instantly 
 , raised, and the director-general hastened to the prison. The 
 naked man turned out to be the flower-seller, whose sleep was so 
 profound that he awoke with the greatest difficulty. Upon open- 
 ing his eyes he appeared amazed at seeing himself naked, and no 
 less so at being surrounded by inquisitive persons who questioned 
 him concerning the prisoner's flight. He protested his utter igno- 
 rance of the matter, but observed that he had been evidently 
 robbed of his clothes, though by whom he could not tell, unless 
 the Mahratta had taken them the better to effect his purpose. He 
 affected to be astonished at having been found in such a state of 
 unpremeditated oblivion ; but, as if struck by some sudden recol- 
 lection, he stated that Sevajee had induced him to drink a glass of 
 sherbet, shortly after he entered his room, which he could now 
 have no doubt had been drugged with opium, as he had swallowed 
 it but a short time when he was overcome by a drowsiness which 
 he could not control, and had evidently sunk down senseless from 
 the powerful effects of the opiate. His story was sufficiently 
 plausible ; and, fortunately for him, under the sanction of his sup- 
 posed integrity, was believed ; the man thus eluded suspicion. An 
 i alaiTO was immediately raised, and a search made after the fugitive, 
 , but he was nowhere to be found. When the Emperor was in- 
 ■ formed that Sevajee had quitted his prison he was greatly ex- 
 asperated, and ordered several bodies of men to be despatched in 
 search of him ; but his vexation was destined to receive a still 
 grea,ter aggravation, for shortly after the news had reached him of 
 the Mahratta's escape, he discovered that his favourite daughter 
 ' had become the partner of his flight
 
 503 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SEVAJEE had found no difficulty in leaving his prison un- 
 suspected, disguised as the flower vendor, being about the 
 same height, and loosely clad, according to the fashion of Eastern 
 countries. As had been preconcerted between him and the prin- 
 cess, he repaired to the harem with his flowers, and the man whom 
 he personated being known to the attendants, who were prevented 
 from approaching his representative too nearly by some natural 
 pretence, which women in the East are seldom at a loss to find in 
 order to secure the success of any favourite scheme, Sevajee ob- 
 tained admittance without incurring suspicion. It was now 
 arranged that he should instantly hasten to a certain jungle, where 
 he was to await the arrival of Rochinara, who, under pretence of 
 devotion, would quit the city immediately, and join him at the 
 appointed spot. 
 
 This plan was successfully executed. The empire being at this 
 period in a state of general peace, no rigid scrutiny was observed 
 towards persons passing to and from the city as in more turbulent 
 times. On leaving the gates, Rochinara gave orders to be carried 
 towards a particular mosque ; but no sooner had she got beyond 
 the reach of observation, than she stepped out of her palankeen, 
 commanded the bearers to wait for her at a certain spot, and de- 
 clared her intention of proceeding with one favourite attendant to 
 the sacred edifice. The men retired, and the princess quitting 
 the high road, diverged from the mosque, and hastened towards 
 the jungle. 
 
 Though utterly unaccustomed to such exercise, Rochinara ana 
 her woman made their way through a rough and unfrequented 
 track to the place of appointment, being directed by the kw casual 
 passengers whom they happened to meet. They wisely confined 
 their questions upon this point to pariahs, several of whom were 
 passing on their way towards the same spot : these persons having
 
 4^ THE MAHRATTA CHIEF, 
 
 SO little intercourse willi any but individuals of their own tribe, 
 there was the less chance of detection from their communi- 
 cating with the citizens, or with those who would, no doubt, be 
 sent in pursuit of the fugitives. 
 
 After a tedious journey of full two hours, the princess and her 
 attendant joined Sevajee in the jungle. He had now cast off his 
 disguise and resumed his own attire. 
 
 " We must travel alone through this forest," said he, " and when 
 we reach its borders towards the south, I will provide a hackery 
 for you and your companion, and we shall proceed with better 
 chance of security ; but we must avoid the public roads until we 
 reach the coast. What think you, lady, of this ? — 'tis an arduous 
 undertaking for tender limbs and gentle spirits." 
 
 "Tlie daughter of Aurungzebe, Sevajee, "Rail know how to 
 meet difficulties. The energies of woman are not known until 
 they are tried, and none of the race of Timour ever shrank from 
 danger." 
 
 " Let us proceed then ; our course lies amid perils, but they 
 are already half overcome in the resolution to brave them." 
 
 They proceeded warily on their way, apprehensive that every 
 sound might be the forerunner of discovery. The jungle was 
 thick, but broken into frequent vistas, where they occasionally re- 
 posed from the fatigues of their journey, which were rendered more 
 harassing from the circumstance of the travellers being frequently 
 obliged to make themselves a path, by putting aside with their 
 hands the thick growth of underwood that impeded their pro- 
 gress. 
 
 Towards evening they halted in a small glen, which was entered 
 by a defile formed by the proximity of two small hills. It was a 
 sequestered spot in the heart of the forest. The jackal was 
 already beginning to raise his dismal cry, and the occasional 
 crackling of the bushes announced that they were not the only 
 sojourners in the jungle. The travellers kindled a fire in order 
 to keep off the beasts of prey, and Sevajee having fixed a bamboo 
 in the ground, untwisted from his waist several folds of a close 
 kind of calico, threw it over the pole, and thus formed a n-de
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 305 
 
 tent, under which he strewed some dried grass as a bed for the 
 princess and her attendant. 
 
 The only access to this glen was through the defile already 
 mentioned. The Mahratta therefore placed himself upon the 
 road which immediately led to it in order to keep watch, lest any 
 person sent by Aurungzebe in pursuit of the fugitives should 
 happen to take that track. The dense growth of the forest 
 rendered it so dark that no object was to be discerned beyond 
 the distance of a few paces ; but Sevajee, having been much 
 accustomed to thread the jungles by night in his own native hills, 
 had acquired a quickness of perception peculiar to himself in 
 detecting the movements of approaching objects. For some 
 time he trod the path of this forest solitude without any interrup- 
 tion ; but at length the sound of distant footsteps caught his ear. 
 He immediately advanced, and soon ascertained that a party of 
 the Emperor's guard were approaching. It consisted of ten men. 
 One of the soldiers preceded the rest, bearing a large torch. The 
 Mahratta retreated quickly to the tent, extinguished the fire which 
 had been kindled to scare the beasts of prey, and having roused 
 the princess and her attendant, led them into a thicket on one 
 side of the glen, where he desired they would remain until he 
 should return. 
 
 " I go," said he, " to baffle our pursuers, who are now close 
 upon our track. Should I fail, I am determined never to fall into 
 their hands alive. For you there is mercy, for me none. Should 
 I perish, return to your father, and he will still succour you." 
 
 " Never ! I wear a dagger, Sevajee, and the same hour that 
 concludes your existence, shall likewise conclude mine. I shall 
 not submit to another separation." 
 
 " The act I contemplate is desperate. If I succeed we are 
 safe ; if I fail, we are lost." 
 
 Having tenderly embraced Rochinara, he quitted her, and 
 hurried to the defile. By this time the Moguls were within a 
 hundred yards of the gorge. The Mahratta grasped a creese in 
 either hand, and placed himself behind a short but thick shrub 
 which gi-ew on one side of the entrance to the defile. As soon as
 
 So6 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 
 
 the man who carried the torch reached the place of his conceal* 
 ment, Sevajee stabbed him to the heart, seized the torch, and 
 pressing his foot upon the flame, extinguished it, at the same 
 moment plunging his second dagger into the breast of the officer 
 who led the party. This was the work but of a few moments. 
 The confusion was indescribable. Sevajee, whose eye had been 
 accustomed to the darkness, was able to see his foes, though they 
 could not perceive him. He stabbed four of them in succession, 
 they being unable to perceive from whence the stroke of death 
 came. His enemies knew not where to strike. Six already lay 
 upon the earth weltering in their blood. Two others shortly 
 shared the same fate ; — another followed, and one only remained 
 to be sent to a similar account. Upon him the Mahratta sprang 
 in his eagerness to complete the work of carnage, seized the sword 
 with which his foe was armed, and wrested it from him ; but with 
 the exertion his creese fell, and he could not recover it. 
 
 They were now both unarmed, and the struggle was desperate. 
 The Mogul was a tall, powerful man, but no match for the 
 Mahratta in activity and prompt vigour. He fell under the 
 assault of his active adversary, yet still retained him in his grasp. 
 Sevajee seized his prostrate enemy by the throat, and pressing him 
 firmly upon the windpipe, endeavoured to strangle him ; but the 
 sudden agony imparted an impulsive energy to the Mogul, who, 
 doubling his legs under Sevajee's body, suddenly raised him, and 
 cast him to a distance of several feet upon his back. 
 
 It happened that in turning to regain his feet, the Mahratta 
 accidentally placed his hand upon his enemy's sword, which had 
 fallen to the ground during their struggle. He lost not a moment, 
 biit buried it in the Mogul's body before he could raise himself 
 from his recumbent position. Thus, aided by the darkness, 
 Sevajee destroyed ten men without receiving a wound. 
 
 Having paused a moment to breathe, after his exertions, he re- 
 joined the princess, whom he found anxiously awaiting his return. 
 They passed the wliole night in the thicket, exposed to the 
 ravages of wild beasts, which, however, happily did not molest 
 them, and on the following morning they pursued tiaeir dreary
 
 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. Soy 
 
 journey, encompassed by perils, which the princess "bore with a 
 heroism worthy the daughter of Aurungzebe. Having procured 
 a couple of miserable tattoos,* at a village on the borders of the 
 jungle, the travellers proceeded by easy stages, and without 
 suspicion, to Muttra, thence to Benares and Jaggernaut. From 
 the latter place they went round by Hydrabad, and at length 
 found themselves among the native hills of the Mahratta chief, 
 where his fierce but gallant followers soon rallied round him. 
 
 About the time of his daughter's flight the Emperor was taken 
 ill, and for many Aveeks his life was despaired of. This circum- 
 stance considerably abated the eagerness of pursuit after the 
 fugitives, as the attention of every one was directed to the danger 
 of the sovereign. A gloom prevailed through the empire ; for 
 the wise policy adopted by Aurungzebe, in spite of his hollowness 
 and hypocrisy, had rendered him the most popular monarch that 
 ever sat upon the Mogul throne. With all his moral blemishes, 
 his public character stood very high, and the general prosperity 
 which his wise administration diffused, added to the rigid piety 
 which seemed the mainspring of all his acts, rendered him an 
 object of all but idolatry with a large portion of those who lived 
 in ease and affluence under his wise supremacy. He at length 
 recovered, to the universal joy of his subjects, and seemed to have 
 forgotten his daughter's flight. 
 
 A youth now appeared at court, in whom the Emperor took 
 great interest, but whose birth and parentage were a mystery. No 
 one could tell to whom he belonged, or whence he came, and yet 
 the Emperor treated him with marks of distinguished favour. He 
 was a remarkably handsome young man, had just entered his 
 seventeenth year, and was eminently expert in every military 
 exercise. In all hunting excursions, honoured by the sovereign's 
 presence, he was the foremost to court peril, and always suc- 
 cessful in pursuing the dangerous adventures of the chase. He 
 soon excited the attention of the Omrahs by his daring, and the 
 singular skill which he displayed in feats of arms. Who he could 
 
 Native ponies.
 
 So8 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 
 
 be, was a frequent inquiry ; but on this question the profoundest 
 political sages appeared just as ignorant as the most unlettered 
 menials. 
 
 The young man gradually won the good opinion of all His 
 courtesy and amenity of manners were no less conspicuous than 
 the more chivalric features of his character. Aurungzebe was gra- 
 tified at the general approbation awarded to his favourite, and lost 
 no opportunity of strengthening the flattering impression. In 
 several incursions of the rebellious Usbecks, this youth had dis- 
 tinguished himself, and the Emperor looked forward to his be- 
 coming one of the most conspicuous leaders of his time. He was 
 not only remarkable for his superiority in military exercises, but 
 his talents in the cabinet were likewise highly promising, and 
 though he was an object of jealousy to some of the nobles, who 
 were mortified at seeing a stranger and a mere youth so flattered 
 by their sovereign, yet with the majority he was a great and 
 deserved favourite. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SEVAJEE, on his return, finding that there was no enemy to 
 oppose him, soon regained the territory which he had lost 
 during his captivity. All the mountain forts again fell into his 
 hands,, and he found himself in a better condition than ever to 
 frustrate the supremacy of the Mogul Emperor in Southern India. 
 In a few months this enterprising warrior was at the head of an 
 army of fifty thousand soldiers, all daring men, accustomed to the 
 privations and fatigues of mountain warfare, and possessing that 
 activity, hardihood, and bodily energy peculiar to mountaineers. 
 Calculating his power, Sevajee determined upon some exploit that 
 should signalize his return from wliat he considered a humiliating 
 bondage. Assembling a body of fifteen thousand choice troops, 
 he marched towards Surat, during the rains, when an assault from 
 enemies was the least expected. 
 
 One morning a Banian entered that city, offering various stuffs
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 509 
 
 foT sale. Being a facetious man — as, indeed, most of those itine- 
 rant traders are — and having a quantity of choice brocades, he 
 readily found admittance into the houses of the opulent citizens. 
 Surat at this time was surrounded only by a slight mud wall, a 
 very insufficient defence against the attacks of a daring enemy ; 
 but, secure in their immense wealth and commercial importance, 
 the citizens never seem to have thought upon a hostile attack from 
 any quarter, and it being now the period of the monsoon, they 
 slumbered in perfect security. The Banian visited all parts of 
 Surat with his pack, meeting everywhere with a flattering reception, 
 and especially in the houses of the wealthy merchants. For three 
 days he continued in the city. When he had sold all his merchan- 
 dise, he departed with the general goodwill of the citizens. 
 
 In order to mislead the inhabitants of Surat, Sevajee had 
 divided his forces into two bodies, with which he encamped 
 before two important places, as if about to besiege them. Sud- 
 denly he ordered the troops to withdraw from those places, leaving 
 only small parties who had received his instructions to keep up a 
 continued clamour, and have lights burning during the night, in 
 order to give the appearance of a large army encamped on the 
 spot. These devices were completely successful in lulling the 
 suspicions of the citizens of Surat. The streets were thronged by 
 day with thrifty traders, the bazaars with busy chafferers, who by 
 night reposed in unapprehensive safety. In the midst of their 
 slumbers, however, they were roused by the din of arms. Starting 
 from their beds, they were stunned with the shrieks of women and 
 the cries of men. The confusion was indescribable. An enemy 
 was within the walls, but amid the darkness it was impossible to 
 distinguish friends from foes. The clash of arms was everywhere 
 heard, mingled with the groans of the dying and the shrieks of 
 the despairing. Terror magnified the danger. The enemy ap- 
 peared an overwhelming host, sweeping through the streets like a 
 torrent, and spreading death around like a blast of the simoom. 
 There was little or no resistance. A long and indolent security 
 seemed to have unnerved every arm, and the bad cause triumphed. 
 
 Day dawned, and presented a spectacle of general devastatioi).
 
 gto THE MAHRATTA CHIEF 
 
 The Mahrattas had become masters of Surat. The Banian who 
 had received the hospitality of its citizens was recognised in the 
 Mahratta chief, who now reclaimed without an equivalent the 
 merchandise which he had so lately sold. The mercy of the con- 
 queror was propitiated by submission to the pillage which he 
 directed to be made. He permitted no bloodshed after the sur- 
 render, but practically showed, however, that he fully understood 
 the law of appropriation. All the rich merchants and factors 
 were obliged to exhibit their stores, and redeem them at a valua- 
 tion. For three days the work of plunder continued, but no 
 personal violence was offered to any of the inhabitants. When 
 Sevajee had satisfied his appetite for pillage, and that of his troops, 
 he retired from the city of Surat, with booty supposed to have ex- 
 ceeded in value one million sterlina:. 
 
 Aurungzebe was exceedingly mortified when he heard of this 
 daring violation of the laws of honourable warfare ; looking upon 
 it as an act of mere predatory aggression, at once unbecoming a 
 soldier and a prince. He now took the same resolution which he 
 had already so frequently acted upon, but with little eventual 
 success, of sending an army against Sevajee that should extinguish 
 his power for ever. Accordingly he ordered a hundred thousand 
 men under command of an experienced and active general to 
 proceed to the Deccan. The young favourite already mentioned 
 was made second in command, and marched with the high and 
 proud hope of distinguishing himself in the field against the most 
 formidable enemy of his sovereign. His birth was a general 
 mystery, but such were his popular virtues, that although Aurung- 
 zebe had raised him to a post of distinction about his own person, 
 still this advancement had excited httle jealousy among the 
 nobles, who generally admitted him to be deserving of such 
 honour. 
 
 When the Mogul army reached the Deccan, they found Sevajee 
 at the head of a numerous force. By adopting his usual system 
 of mountain strategy, harassing his enemy by sudden surprises, 
 cutting off" their supplies, falling upon straggling parties, and keep- 
 ing up continued alarms in their camp, the indefatigable Mahratta
 
 THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 5it 
 
 soon thinned their ranks, and reduced them to considerable 
 distress. He carefully avoided meeting his enemies in the open 
 field, conscious not only of his own numerical inferiority, but of 
 the superior discipline of the Moguls. By no strategem could 
 they withdraw him from his mountain fastnesses. The troops at 
 length became dispirited, and clamoured either to be led at once 
 against the mountaineers, or return to the imperial city, as they 
 were wasting their energies in difficult marches and skirmishes, 
 without coming into fair contact with a foe. 
 
 In order to still these murmurings, the youthful officer, who had 
 been appointed second in command, offered to lead a detachment 
 of twenty thousand troops among the hills, and engage the enemy 
 upon his own ground. This proposal was acceded to by the 
 general in chief. The young commander repaired with his de- 
 tachment to the mountains. Sevajee, as usual, avoided a conflict 
 until he could avail himself of some advantage of position. 
 
 One morning the Mogul camp was suddenly attacked, but the 
 young general forming his squadrons behind their tents, soon 
 repulsed the assailants, and pursuing them into the gorges of the 
 mountains, slew many, and took several prisoners. In the heat 
 of pursuit he was separated from his troops. Turning into a 
 narrow valley, he recei\ed an arrow discharged by some hidden 
 archer, through the fleshy part of his left arm. Heated by the 
 ardour of pursuit, and pained by the v/ound, he spurred forward, 
 forgetting that he was alone. Suddenly his horse was shot under 
 him : he fell — but almost instantly springing upon his feet, looked 
 round and perceived that he was not followed by a single Mogul, 
 [ust as he was preparing to retrace his steps, he saw an armed 
 Mahratta advancing towards him. Calmly awaiting his approach, 
 and perceiving that he was no common enemy, the Mogul cried — 
 " Do I see the leader of the Mahrattas ?" 
 
 "Why do you ask?" 
 
 *' Because of all others he is the man I would meet hand to 
 hand." 
 
 "Then you may enjoy your wish, for Sevajee stands before 
 you."
 
 5ta THE MAHRATTA CHIEF. 
 
 There was no further parley; the two leaders encountered with 
 mutual animosity. The struggle was fierce but short. The 
 Mogul, being embarrassed by the wound in his arm, and some- 
 what er.feebled by consequent loss of blood, was unable to bring 
 his best energies to the encounter. Sevajee was superior both in 
 strength and activity, and very soon struck his adversary to the 
 earth by a severe sabre-stroke on the head. The Mogul, being 
 stunned, was quite at the mercy of his foe ; but that foe was as 
 generous as he was brave. Struck with the youth and beauty of 
 his enemy, Sevajee supported the youth's head, and opening his 
 vest to expedite the recall of his senses, saw to his astonishment 
 the distinct mark of a spear-head upon the right breast. Raising 
 a clear shrill cry, in a few moments he was surrounded by his 
 followers, whom he ordered to lift the wounded officer and bear 
 him to one of his mountain fortresses in the neighbourhood. The 
 blow which he had received on the head was so severe as to 
 render him insensible : the sabre, had, nevertheless, inflicted no 
 wound. The numerous folds of his turban had repelled it. 
 
 Upon recovering his consciousness, the young Mogul perceived 
 that he was in the hands of his enemy. The wound in his arm 
 had been dressed and carefully bandaged, and in the course of 
 that evening he became an inmate of one of Sevajee's strongholds. 
 On the following day he was brought into the presence of 
 Rochinara, who greeted him with a courtesy which seemed to 
 throw a gleam of sunshine upon his captivity. 
 
 Sevajee approaching him with a bland air besought him to bare 
 his bosom. He immediately exposed it to the view of the 
 princess, who, gazing at him for a moment in speechless astonish- 
 ment, rushed forward, threw herself upon his neck and covered it 
 with her tears. " My child," at length she cried — " my long lost 
 son, you are come here to freedom and to joy : in your vanquisher 
 behold a parent, — in me behold a mother. That mark upon your 
 Dreast, stamped there before the light of heaven had beamed upon 
 the embryo babe, is too strong and unerring a signature by God's 
 hand to be mistaken." 
 
 The vnuth's astonishment was extreme, but there were certain
 
 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 
 
 S13 
 
 passages in his life with which he alone was familiar, that to 
 his mind perfectly ratified what he now heard, and elucidated 
 what to his mind had ever been wrapped in painful secrecy. 
 Sevajee embraced his son, who told him that a mystery had 
 always hung over his birth, which he had in vain endeavoured to 
 unravel. He had been brought up at a solitary village, in a 
 family with whom, though treated with kindness, he was not 
 happy. He had been instructed by a learned Mussulman in the 
 literature of his country, and his natural predilection for all manly 
 exercises naturally led him to become an adept in the use of arms. 
 He was treated with evident deference by the persons who had 
 the charge of his infancy, which always induced him to suspect 
 that his birth was above their condition. At the age of fifteen 
 being summoned to the court of Aurungzebe, he was immediately 
 distinguished by his sovereign, and shortly raised to a post of 
 responsibility. 
 
 The meeting between the long-lost son and his parents was one 
 of tender and reciprocal congratulation. Sambajee, by which 
 name he was henceforward known, was too much rejoiced at 
 having been restored to his parents to feel any desire of returning 
 to the imperial court. 
 
 As soon as his wound was sufficiently healed to enable him to 
 venture out, he rejoined the Mogul army. As he was extremelv 
 beloved by the troops, among whom was a large body of Rajpoots, 
 he had no difficulty in persuading those more especially under his 
 own command, to revolt from the Emperor and join the forces of 
 Sevajee. To the surprise and consternation of the Mogul general, 
 in one night nearly one half of his army went over to the 
 Mahrattas, and left him no longer in a condition to face those 
 formidable enemies of the state. Breaking up his encampment, 
 therefore, he returned to Delhi with the news of his ill success, 
 occasioned by the revolt of the troops and their union with the 
 foe. Aurungzebe could not repress his indignation at these 
 tidings. He now saw that the strength of his enemy was increased 
 to such a degree as to render him a dangerous rival ! — that the 
 harmony of his family was iisturbcd, and his favourite, on whom 
 
 INDIA. L L
 
 SI4 THE MAHRA TTA CHIEF. 
 
 he had lavished honours and whom he had intended to advance 
 to still higher distinctions, had turned traitor. 
 
 Scvajee now became the most powerful prince of Southern 
 Indi . He could tnuster an army of fifty thousand foot and a 
 hundred thousand horse. Dreaded by the neighbouring poten 
 tates, and having raised the reputation of his arms by foiling the 
 legions of Aurungzebe, he determined to satisfy his pride and 
 dazzle his followers by a formal coronation, modelled upon thai 
 of the ISIogul, in which the veighing against gold and other 
 pompous ceremonies were not omitted. Gifts to an immense 
 value, bestowed upon Brahmins, gave lustre to this as well as to 
 other high political festivals. 
 
 From this time the prosperity of Sevajee continued without 
 abatement ;mtil his death, which happened in the year i6So, at 
 tlie age of fifty, and he was succeeded by his son Sambajee. The 
 Princess Rochinara did not long survive him. 
 
 THE EKI>. 
 
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