The detection of his long concealed and successful peculations was a
thunderbolt to the Jemadar. The Khan refused to see him, or to hear any
exculpation he had to urge; and then, knowing the influence Kasim Ali
possessed with his commander, he sought him, and implored him to use his
influence with the Khan for pardon and for silence on the subject; he
became abject, he even threw himself at the young man’s feet, and when
these failed, offered him a bribe to accede to his terms. It wanted but
this to excite Kasim Ali’s full indignation: he had despised the man for
his meanness, but the insult aroused him, and he spurned the offer
fiercely.
‘Cheat and rogue!’ he cried, ‘many a man is whipped through the bazaars
for less than this. Inshalla! I shall live to see this done upon thee. I
have not forgotten thee, and thou art too well known in the army for any
good men to feel regret at thy fate. Men say that thou art a devil, and
not a man. By Alla I believe them. Begone! wert thou the Sultaun’s son I
would spurn thee.’
There was no one near, and the Jemadar eyed Kasim as the thought flashed
into his mind that a thrust of his sword or dagger would silence him for
ever, and that without his aid the Khan would easily be persuaded to
drop the prosecution. Kasim was weak too, and might easily be overcome,
and his hand stole to his sword-hilt; but the string which secured it to
the scabbard was fast, and he could not draw it; with a muttered curse
he clutched a long knife he wore in his girdle, and, on pretence of
repeating his request, advanced a step; his eye glistened like that of a
tiger about to spring; another moment might have been fatal to Kasim
Ali, but he saw the action, and instantly seizing his sword which lay
before him he started to his feet.
‘I see thy cowardly intention, Jemadar,’ he said; ‘as yet, I will not
draw this weapon, which would be polluted by a coward’s blood; but
advance one step, and by Alla and the Apostle thou mayest say the Kulma,
for thou diest. Begone! in the name of the Prophet, and seek not thine
own death.’
The coward attempted to stammer out an excuse, to protest that he had
been misunderstood; but he could say nothing intelligible, and he slunk
away defeated and mortified, with deadly hate rankling at his heart and
urging him to revenge.
‘That I should have been foiled by that boy!’ he said aloud as he
quitted the house; ‘that I should have been destined to devour such
abomination! that I, Jaffar Sahib, should have been thus trampled upon!
Ya Ali! ya Hoosein! grant me power of revenge. Yea, his blood will
hardly wipe out the insult I have suffered. Yes, tell him so,’ he cried
to a woman who he thought watched him; ‘tell him so—tell him Jaffar
Sahib curses him, and, as there is a light in heaven, will have his
revenge for what has happened.’
‘Jaffar Sahib!’ cried the woman, rushing forward; ‘thou canst not be he?
thou canst not be he whom I thought dead years ago?’
‘Begone! I know thee not; thou art one of his followers, and I curse
thee;’ and flinging her off, for she had clung to his arm, so violently
that she stumbled against a stone and fell, he strode on at a rapid
pace.
She arose slowly, and looked after him as he hurried on. ‘Holy Prophet!’
she said, as she brushed away the dust and her loose hair from her eyes,
‘it must be he; his look when he was excited, his very tones, his name
too, all are his. Jaffar Sahib! that name hath not sounded in mine ears
since we met last, when the bright moon was above us, and the trees
casting their deep shade over us veiled that from her prying glare which
even now shames me to remember. Holy Alla! he did not remember Sozun!
how should he? Years have passed since we were young, and they have not
been without effect; and to meet thus, when I had thought him dead long,
long ago, and mourned him in my heart! Ya Alla! what destiny is this
before me? Be it what it may,’ she continued, walking a few paces, ‘I
will see him, and he shall know that Sozun still lives.’
Jaffar Sahib had but one resource left; and as he hurried along his mind
became resolutely bent upon attempting it. To urge the Khan again was
impossible, and against Kasim his desire of revenge became more wild and
implacable every moment. ‘My only refuge is in the Sultaun; I will go to
him and confess my fault. If I am fortunate—and who shall dare to say
that the destiny of Jaffar Sahib is evil?—there is no worse to be
apprehended than if I were proceeded against publicly. I may be
fortunate and prevent all.’ And thus saying and meditating how he should
open his statement, he arrived before the gate of the palace, and
entered it hastily; being well known no opposition was made to him, and
he passed on to the appartment of those who waited upon the Sultaun, for
he well knew that at that hour he must be alone, or in consultation with
Purnea, or Kishun Rao, his advisers and ministers.
‘Is the Sultaun alone, Abdool Hoosein?’ he said, addressing the
monarch’s chief and confidential attendant, who, with a crowd of others,
waited without.
‘He is engaged in writing,’ said the functionary; ‘it would be as much
as my life is worth to disturb him. This day he has received letters
which have sorely distressed him, and he is not in his right senses.’
‘I must see him,’ said the Jemadar; ‘my business is of the utmost
importance.’
‘You must write then, for it is impossible for me to mention it,’
returned the man doggedly.
‘Abdool Hoosein,’ said Jaffar Sahib, taking him aside, ‘thou knowest we
have been friends hitherto, and, Inshalla! mean to continue so. I cannot
write what I have to say—it would be impossible; but here is a trifle;’
and he slipped a gold coin into his hand.
‘It is not enough,’ said the attendant, glancing his eye from the money
to the giver, for he well knew with whom he had to deal; ‘it is not
enough—take it back.’
‘Nay, be not hasty,’ returned the other; ‘here is more, but I have no
gold.’
‘’Tis the worse for thee, Jaffar Sahib; I do not move under three gold
pieces, and no one else dares to—’
‘Take them then in the name of the Shitan,’ cried the Jemadar. ‘Go! say
that I am here, and have a petition to make.’
‘The Sultaun thinks thou art at the camp,’ said the attendant; ‘’twas
but yesterday he spoke of thee.’
‘He will soon know why I am here,’ replied the Jemadar; ‘but begone! I
have neither time nor inclination to bandy words with thee.’
The man went and returned. ‘Go,’ he said, ‘in the name of Sheikh Suddoo,
the father of mischief; I would not be present at your interview with
the Sultaun for much. Away! he hath sent for thee.’
How the heart of the coward beat as he heard these words; but there was
now no means of retreat, and he proceeded.
The Sultaun sat in a small room which communicated with the private
apartments of the palace; the walls were plain, but the ceiling was
richly painted and ornamented, and the casements and shutters of the
windows also. On the floor there was spread a clean white calico
covering; and at one end, upon a carpet supported by cushions,
surrounded by heaps of papers, and holding in his left hand a stiff
leather case, which supported the paper on which he was writing, sat the
Sultaun.
Jaffar Sahib hesitated for a moment at the door, for he had looked
through a chink, and seen that there was a frown on the Sultaun’s brow,
and that peculiar expression about his mouth which was always the
precursor of mischief; but there was no time allowed him for reflection.
The Sultaun had heard and called to him; and the Jemadar, hastily
entering, at once threw himself at full length flat on the ground before
him, with his arms and legs extended, and lay there motionless and
silent.
‘Why, Madur-bukht, what ails thee? in the name of the Prophet speak and
tell; we thought thee at the camp. Why hast thou come here without
leave? why hast thou transgressed orders, and the regulations of our
army, which were drawn up with our own wisdom and are perfect models of
military knowledge. Speak, O Kumbukht! O man without a destiny! why art
thou come?’
‘Pardon, O Asylum of the World!’ cried the Jemadar, not daring to look
up; ‘thy slave’s fault is great, and his liver is turned to water; I
crave forgiveness ere I can tell my errand. My lord is generous—he will
forgive magnanimously and will not punish the error of his slave.’
‘Get up, in the name of the Prophet! and tell thy tale; do not lie
snivelling there like a Hindoo: by Alla! thou remindest me of the
Brahmin who said thou hadst plundered him, and whom we—but no matter.
Get up! or by the Apostle I will prick thee with my sword;’ and he drew
it.
‘Alla and the Prophet be my refuge, and the saints Hassan and Hoosein!’
cried the man, rising up and joining his hands, while he trembled
fearfully; ‘if thou art against me, O Sultaun, I have no refuge in the
world; may I be your sacrifice! I will speak the truth; why should I
tell a lie?’
‘Speak, then, and say it, Madur-Bukhta!’ cried the Sultaun impatiently;
‘dost thou think that we, the beloved of Alla, on whom rest the cares
and protection of this kingdom, and of the true faith in Hind—dost thou
think that we have nought to do but listen to thy prating? Quick!’
‘Huzrut!’ said the Jemadar, his agitation almost denying him utterance;
‘thou mayest order me to be blown away from a gun, if what I say be not
true.’
‘Well!’ exclaimed the Sultaun, ‘what more?’
‘I am disgraced—my character is gone—I have no friend—no, not one.
Rhyman Khan and his minion Kasim Ali have leagued together to blast my
reputation and to ruin me.’
‘Hold!’ cried Tippoo; ‘the one is a man I am proud to call my friend,
the other saved my life; beware how thou namest them.’
‘May I be your sacrifice! thou mayest hang me if it be not the truth;
listen and judge:—when I was with the camp, engaged in the Sircar’s
affairs, my Moonshee, a humble man, disappeared; your slave thought he
had been murdered, and became uneasy; he discovered in a few days that
the Khan had sent a party of the risala and carried him away privately;
since then he and Kasim Ali have kept him here, tortured him, and made
him draw up a declaration that your slave had made false accounts.’
‘Ha!’ said the Sultaun; ‘but go on.’
‘Yes, false accounts, protector of the poor! I who have fed on the
Sircar’s bounty, I who have eaten the Sircar’s salt, who am a
Khanazad,[48]—that I should do so base an act!’
-----
Footnote 48:
One born in the family.
-----
‘Peace!’ exclaimed the Sultaun; ‘I see by thine eye, Jaffar Sahib, that
thou art guilty; there is no hiding truth from me. As I slept one night,
the dream is recorded, the angel Gabriel appeared to me. “Thou art a
Sultaun,” he said, “and the destinies of thousands and millions are in
thy hands; thou shalt be able from henceforth to detect a lie at once,”
and so saying he vanished; and I, who am a child of clay, and not worthy
of the honour, feel that he said truly. Dost thou not tremble as I read
thy heart in thine eye, and see that thou art a thief? yes, thou dost
wince—the thief of the Sircar Khodadad.[49] Shall I have thee taken into
the square, Kumbukht, and set in a high place, and a proclamation made
that thou art a thief? Toba! Toba! wert thou not content with the
plunder of the infidels, but thou must needs steal from us? Ya Alla
kureem! grant us patience to bear this.’
-----
Footnote 49:
The Government, the gift of God.
-----
‘Enough! enough, O fountain of mercy!’ said the trembling wretch;
‘enough; I beseech you by my long and faithful service to forgive me, to
pardon the past, to keep me from shame. I am your slave, I lick the dust
of your feet! Holy Alla! be my aid, and ye saints and martyrs in whose
name I have slain and despoiled infidels!’
‘Who is this grovelling wretch?’ said Meer Sadik the Dewan, and Kishun
Rao the Treasurer, who then entered.
‘Ay, who is he? ye may well ask,’ replied the Sultaun; ‘one who,
Inshalla! has owned himself to be a thief,—to have taken the Sircar’s
money,—to have been unfaithful to his salt.’ And then, though the
miserable Jemadar pleaded hard for mercy, he told all he had guessed at,
and invented the rest, joking the while upon the affair, at the expense
of the culprit, who could have borne wrath, but not the cold and bitter
irony of the Sultaun, and those who heard it.
‘Alla! Alla! this is worse than death,’ he cried at length; ‘bid me be
blown away from a gun, it will be an end to all misery and persecution.’
‘Not so fast, Jaffar Sahib,’ said the Sultaun; ‘we intend, Inshalla! to
make thee pay back the money thou hast taken, and to keep thee alive to
serve us and eat our salt. What say ye, sirs?’ he cried to the others.
‘I beg to represent,’ said Kishun Rao, ‘that your slave hath learned
with grief of the peculation which has been discovered in the department
of the paymaster, from the false accounts of the risalas and the
infantry, and was about making a report upon the subject; but enough;
here is one culprit, let him smart for it, and the rest will be more
careful.’
‘Not so! Rao Sahib,’ said the Sultaun; ‘not so; this man we will pardon,
because we have the memory of many of his services in our heart, where,
Shookr Khoda! the services of each man of our invincible army is
treasured up; this time we will spare his fame. Dost thou hear?’ he
cried to Jaffar Sahib; ‘thou art free to go, and we shall desire Abdool
Rhyman Khan to suspend his proceedings; but thou shalt pay to our
treasurer two thousand hoons[50] by to-morrow at this time, if not, it
will be worse for thee.’
-----
Footnote 50:
A hoon is about four rupees.
-----
‘I call the Prophet to witness,’ cried Jaffar Sahib, ‘I have not half
the quarter of that sum; five hundred I might perhaps—’
‘Peace!’ exclaimed the Sultaun; ‘how darest thou to swear to a lie in
the presence of the friend of the Apostle? I have spoken.’
‘I have it not—where am I to find such a sum?’
‘In hell!’ roared the Sultaun, ‘where I will send thee to seek it, if
thou delayest one moment beyond the time. Begone! Look thou to this,
Kishun Rao—we have spoken, and we will be obeyed; we shall expect thy
report punctually.’
Jaffar Sahib silently made his obeisance, and retired burning with shame
and anger, and renewed threats against Kasim, the author of all. Alone
he could have borne the Sultaun’s irony and bitter words, but that
others should know of his detection and disgrace was more than he could
endure. He did not wait to speak to those in the ante-chamber, but
hurried at once to his temporary lodging in the bazaar.
‘We have sent for you, my friends,’ said the Sultaun to his ministers,
after a short pause, ‘to advise with us regarding momentous affairs
which press upon our notice; not that we need advice—for, by the
blessing of the Prophet! whose agent we are upon earth, and the favour
of the Most High, we receive such intimations of our destiny in dreams,
and by secret and holy communings with the saints, that our path is
clearly marked out for us; but there are, nevertheless, matters which we
have heard of within the last few days that disturb our rest. The kafir
Feringhees of Madras have written to us, and remonstrated sharply for
our attack upon Travancore; they have the insolence to demand
satisfaction for it, and the price of what was destroyed. Vain
arrogance! they should know us better, than to think a mere threat could
disturb the ruler of the kingdom which Alla hath given into our hand.
They are making mighty preparations for war; they have incited the kafir
Mahrattas (may their end be perdition!) and the imbecile ruler of
Hyderabad to join against me. Nay, be not surprised; for though these
have been the reports of the bazaars for months, yet we did not believe
them; but here are the proofs:’ and he handed to them the letters he had
received, containing the intelligence, which they perused in silence.
‘And now listen,’ he continued, his mean features lighting up with a
sudden excitement; ‘listen to the revelation we have had from Alla
himself. These letters arrived but yesterday; and as we lay cogitating
upon their contents, and praying to Alla to enable us to devise some
means of extrication from the difficulty, our eyes closed and we fell
asleep. Soon, however, gorgeous visions began to crowd upon us, and
shapes of glory, which, though almost indefinite, yet hovered around,
filling the mind with wondrous delight; as we looked, we heard a voice
which said, “Art thou hungry, O Sultaun?” and then I bowed down and
cried, saying, “I lack food, O Alla! but it is revenge for the blood of
the martyrs shed in thy cause, and I am hungry for aid, that all thine
enemies may be subdued, and the banner of the faith float proudly over
the realms of Hind, even as it did of yore under the power of Delhi;”
and then, even as I finished speaking, three trays, whose surface
sparkled with the light of Heaven, and upon which were piled fresh
dates, the food of the true believers in paradise, descended to me, and
the angel said,—“Eat, O beloved of the Apostle! and thou wilt be able to
discern the hidden meaning of this vision:” and I ate; and lo! there
came light into my heart, and I know that the three trays of dates were
the dominions of the three confederates my enemies, and they were sweet
to the taste, even as victory is sweet to the soldier.’
‘Ajaib! most wonderful! most extraordinary!’ echoed the two listeners,
who were provoked enough at this puerile harangue. ‘Inshalla! there is
no fear.’
‘Fear!’ cried the Sultaun bitterly; ‘fear! no, there is no fear; there
is joy that at last we shall have them in our power. In a few months the
King of the Afghans will rise in our favour, and, leagued with the Rajah
of Nipaul, and the rulers of Joudhpoor and Jynuggur, who shall be able
to withstand them? The French will rise with ten thousand men; our
valiant troops are a lakh and more. Pressed on all sides, our enemies
will fall; and then for revenge and plunder!’ As he spoke his eyes
flashed fire, his action was high and restless, and even that sedate
counsellor the Dewan caught a portion of his excitement.
‘Upon them then,’ he cried, ‘in the name of Alla! Syud Sahib is below
the passes with all the cavalry. Bangalore hath a gallant commander, and
the garrison is staunch and true; there is plenty of powder and ball; to
the north are all the Droogs,[51] for the Mahrattas and Nizam to break
their force against. Inshalla then! unfurl the standard of the faith in
Durbar this night, and cry Alla Yar! He who is faithful to his creed and
his Sultaun will follow thee to the death.’
-----
Footnote 51:
Hill-forts.
-----
‘Asylum of the World!’ said an attendant, entering; ‘these letters have
just arrived, and are said to contain news from the army; there hath
been fighting.’ And he laid them at Tippoo’s feet.
‘Ha!’ cried the Sultaun exultingly, taking them up and tearing the
covers off as he looked at the seal; ‘Syud Sahib! then the English must
have advanced. Now listen, my friends, to news of victory. Inshalla! the
Syud is a brave man and a skilful general—’ But, as he read silently,
they saw his features change in expression; his brow contract; his lips
become compressed; a nervous twitching of his face commenced, which
always expressed his violent agitation, and they exchanged significant
glances with each other. At last he was no longer able to bear his
vexation, and broke out into a paroxysm of rage.
‘Ya Futteh-o! Ya Alla Mousoof! A hog, and not a man, hath
done this—a coward and a fool! not Syud Sahib, but Syud
Ahmuk!—beaten—disgraced—foiled by the kafir English—forced to retire
beyond the Bhowanee, and he is now close upon the Guzalhuttee pass. O
saints and martyrs! grant me patience to read, to hear all;’ and he read
on. ‘Reinforcements? infantry and guns?—that they may be led into evil,
and lost to me! Never, by the Prophet! never, by the soul of my
father!—may his sepulchre be honoured! Thou mayest even fight it out,
Syud, or return disgraced; thou shalt have the option. What think you,
sirs?’
‘It is heavy news,’ said Meer Sadik, ‘and enough to ruffle my lord’s
temper; but the Syud is wary and cautious. Perhaps the English force is
overwhelming, and he has wisely retired before it, drawing them into a
snare, from whence it will be impossible to escape.’
‘Ha! thinkest thou so? By Alla! a good thought; he shall have the men
and the guns; we will write the order now to the commanders of the
Cushoons[52] to attend the evening Durbar.’
-----
Footnote 52:
His division of regular infantry were so called.
-----
‘I beg to represent,’ said Kishun Rao, ‘that in such an undertaking
there is no one like thyself, O Sultaun; under thine own eye all will go
well; without thee, there is fear and hesitation, for the responsibility
is great.’
‘Well spoken,’ responded the monarch; ‘we have—blessed be the Dispenser
of Wisdom!—such military skill, that before it the genius of the kafir
English is nothing, and their livers become water. Was it not so in
Baillie’s affair? Inshalla! then, we will lead this expedition, and
there will be many such.’
‘And,’ continued the Rao, ‘what is there to prevent the victorious army,
when it has driven the English beyond the boundary, to follow them to
the gate of Madras—to burn, to slay, to plunder, and destroy all? The
French, their bitter enemies, will rise upon them; and when the success
is noised abroad, the Mahrattas, who hate them, and the Nizam, who is
now under their power, will cast them off; and then what is to prevent
the army of the Sircar Khodadad from driving them into the sea, and,
with the power thus gained, of turning upon the faithless Nizam and
destroying his power utterly? then shall Madras be the seaport of the
Sultaun, and he may pitch his tents on the plain of Surroonuggur, and
take his pleasure in the palace of the proud ruler of Hyderabad.’
‘Mashalla! Mashalla! Inspiration! Inspiration!’ exclaimed the Sultaun in
rapture; ‘it shall be done; the thing is easy. Our dreams forewarned us
of this, and behold, our destiny points to it. One victory gained, and
the Mahrattas are on our side; Sindia and his power can be thrown into
the scale: then with the Afghans, the Rohillas, the brave men of the
Dekhan, the Assud Illahee, and the French—Ya Futteh-o! thou wilt grant
victory, and our power will reach a pitch such as men will wonder at and
admire.’
‘But stay, whose letter is this by the same post?’ and he opened the
envelope. The look of exultation at once gave way to passion. ‘Here is
another coward, another traitor!—Palghatcherry has fallen! the place we
ourselves saw provisioned and garrisoned with the best troops;—shame on
them! shame on them! they are women, not men. By Alla! I have women in
the Mahal who would have died ere they had suffered a kafir to enter.
Now there is a road opened from sea to sea, and the infidel English will
not be slow to avail themselves of it. Yet this does but hasten our
intentions. Ye have your leave now to retire, my friends. Go, and say
there will be a Durbar to-night,—no, to-morrow at noon; for, by the
blessing of the Prophet! ere then a new dream may be vouchsafed for our
guidance, Khoda Hafiz!’
They withdrew with many obeisances, and the strange being was left to
his meditations, and to the wild visions of conquest, which the words of
the Rao had resolved into matters apparently within his grasp.
Jaffar Sahib reached his abode with feelings it would be difficult to
describe; the money was but a trifle to him in amount, for in his career
of rapacity and plunder he had amassed thousands; but it was so lent out
among bankers, suttlers, the men of the risala, and those of the bazaar,
that he feared he should hardly be able to raise it in time to meet the
Sultaun’s demand, and without it he had little hope that mercy would be
extended to him. As he dismounted from his horse, his attendant Madar
met him.
‘A woman is within,’ he said, pointing to the door of the apartment;
‘she came here a short while ago, and would take no denial, saying she
would wait for thee.’
‘A woman! in the name of the Shitan what doth she want?—is she young and
fair?’
‘Willa-alum!’ replied the man, grinning, ‘your worship will see; she is
veiled from head to foot.’
‘Most strange! Away with ye all from hence, it may be the matter is
private, and we would be alone.’ As he spoke, he entered the door. There
was a small room at the back of the open shop he had hired; a door led
from that into a small court, where was a shed for cooking or bathing,
and a low verandah. There was no one in the room; he opened the door,
and looked around. Close beside it, in the verandah, sat a woman, veiled
from head to foot in a thick sheet; she appeared to be trembling
violently, for the covering was much agitated.
‘Who, in the name of Satan, art thou,’ cried the Jemadar, ‘who comest at
this unseasonable hour?’ She did not reply, and he spoke again more
roughly.
‘Alla be merciful to me! Jaffar,’ she exclaimed, throwing herself at his
feet, and clasping his knees, while she cast the veil from her, ‘it is
indeed thou! hast thou forgotten Sozun?’
‘Sozun! Sozun!’ he repeated, as he drew his hand across his forehead,
‘she of Salem? Holy Alla! hast thou risen from the dead? is this a
dream?’
‘No! no! look on me. My features are wasted, but I am the same; thou
didst spurn me a while ago like a dog, and my heart was broken. There
was kindness between us once, Jaffar!’ and she sighed deeply.
‘I knew thee not,’ he said, raising her up, and, for the moment yielding
to a softer feeling, caressed her. ‘I had been maddened! insulted by
that dog of a Patél, Kasim Ali. I knew thee not, Sozun.’
‘Ha! dost thou know him?’
‘To my cost; he and his dotard patron, Rhyman Khan, have despoiled me of
money—villified my character; but enough, ’tis no affair of thine. Why
dost thou ask?’
‘I have too a reckoning to settle with him, but let it pass; we will
speak of that which once was pleasant to us. Thou hast not forgotten me
then, Jaffar?’
‘Alla is my witness—never! But canst thou come hither this night at
dusk, unobserved? then we will speak of past times uninterruptedly; now
I have affairs of moment to settle, and must begone.’
‘I will come surely,’ was the reply; ‘thy voice is music in mine ears
after so long a separation.’
‘Follow me then, and I will dismiss thee openly before my servants; but
be sure thou dost not fail to-night.’
-------