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TALES OF DESTINY
By EDMUND MITCHELL
LONDON
CONSTABLE AND COMPANY LTD
1913
COPYRIGHT, 1912
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
BY
EDMUND MITCHELL
CONTENTS
Introduction 1
Chap. I. The Maid of Jhalnagor. Told by the Rajput Chief 5
II. The Hollow Column. Told by the Tax-Collector 19
III. What the Stars ordained. Told by the Astrologer 35
IV. The Spirit Wail. Told by the Merchant 60
V. The Blue Diamonds. Told by the Fakir 101
VI. The Tiger of the Pathans. Told by the Afghan General 128
VII. Her Mother Love. Told by the Physician 146
VIII. The Sacred Pickaxe, Told by the Magistrate 170
TALES OF DESTINY
INTRODUCTION
Just without one of the massive bastioned gates of the city of
Fathpur-Sikri there stood in the year 1580 a caravanserai that afforded
accommodation for man and beast. Here would alight travellers drawn by
the calls of homage, by business, or by curiosity to the famous Town of
Victory, built, as the inscription over the gateway told, by "His
Majesty, King of Kings, Heaven of the Court, Shadow of God, Jalal-ad-din
Mohammed Akbar Padishah."
At the time of our story Akbar was at the zenith of his glory. He had
moved his court from Agra, the capital of his predecessors on the throne
of the Moguls, after having raised for himself, on the spot where the
birth of a son had been promised him by a hermit saint, this superb new
city of Fathpur-Sikri, seven miles in circumference, walled and guarded
by strong forts at its seven gateways. Emperor and nobles had vied with
each other in erecting palaces of stately design and exquisite finish of
adornment. A beautiful mosque commemorated the good deeds of the saint,
and provided a place of prayer for those of the Moslem faith. In the
palace of the Emperor was a magnificent audience hall, with marble
columns and stone-carved galleries, in the centre of which stood the
throne of gold sprinkled with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds, surrounded
by a silver railing, and covered by a canopy of rich crimson brocade.
In this audience hall the great and good Akbar was wont to receive not
only his subjects, rich and poor, the former assembled to pay their
court, the latter to lay their grievances before the Imperial judge; but
he also extended welcome to strangers from afar. On the question of
religion his mind was at this period in a state of change, for he had
broken from the strict faith of the Moslem, had publicly announced that
there was good in all beliefs, had overthrown ceremonial rules, whether
of Islam or of Hinduism, and had proclaimed all things lawful except
excess. His thoughts thus drifting toward a new religion, a divine faith
that would bring into one fold the votaries of all religions, he was
glad at his court to give audience to learned doctors from distant lands
as well as from every part of India. All were welcome--Brahmins and
Buddhists, Moslem schoolmen, Hindu fanatics, pantheists, the worshippers
of fire, the Jews whose prophets are Abraham and Moses, even Christian
padres from far-off Europe. It was Akbar's delight to listen to their
expositions and discussions, and to the defence of their varied dogmas.
Thus did the fame of the king for tolerance, benevolence and wisdom
become noised abroad far and wide, so that visitors flocked in
ever-increasing numbers to the beautiful city. At our caravanserai
without the gate there would often, in the cool of an evening, be
gathered together on the shaded veranda a group of travellers
representing diverse races and classes. Some of the town-dwellers, too,
would be there, resting and refreshing themselves after their walk to
the city walls, while from the near-by camp of the Rajputs, who formed a
portion of the royal bodyguard, there would oftentimes stroll over a few
men-at-arms.
On such occasions it would generally happen that the debates recently
listened to in the Imperial Hall of Assembly would be subjected to
comment. And from discussion of this kind the conversation would quite
frequently change to story-telling, dear to the hearts of all natives of
Hindustan, and by no means to be despised, for in a good story there may
be implanted the kernel of a sound philosophy.
On a summer night in the year named eight men were assembled on the
veranda of the caravanserai. The full moon had just risen above a tope
of tamarind trees, and its silvern radiance revealed every detail of the
scene. A Rajput chief occupied the place of central prominence, cushions
arranged for his convenience, on one of which rested his scimitar, the
emblem of his soldierly profession. Not far from him, in a
half-reclining posture, was a general of the Afghans, also of the
bodyguard of the Emperor. A hakeem, or physician, and an astrologer,
both in the Moslem style of dress, were seated close together, legs
crossed beneath them; while a little apart were two Hindus, as the caste
marks on their foreheads showed, a tax-collector from the country and a
kotwal, or city magistrate. Just above the steps leading on to the
veranda, surrounded by his bales of merchandise, sat a merchant from
Bombay, a big and stalwart man, attired in spotless white raiment, on
his head a voluminous muslin turban. In striking contrast, squatting on
the ground below the steps, at his feet a wooden begging bowl, was a
fakir, or religious ascetic, a loin cloth his sole covering, his face
bedaubed with ashes, his lean chin resting on his upraised knees while
he listened to the dialogue and watched each speaker's face with eyes of
keen alertness.
There had been some desultory conversation, which finally resulted in
the Rajput chief being begged to relate in detail an experience at which
he had previously hinted. The first story led to another story, and the
third to yet another, and so on, until each member of the company had
contributed to the general entertainment. And these are the tales that
were told by the travellers on the veranda of the caravanserai outside
the walls of Fathpur-Sikri that moonlight night in the days of the
mighty Akbar:
I. THE MAID OF JHALNAGOR
TOLD BY THE RAJPUT CHIEF
Well, since you would have it so, listen to the story of Rukpur Singh,
hereditary chief of Jhalnagor, mansabdar of five hundred men, captain of
the bodyguard of Akbar the Great, King of Kings, Lord of the Earth.
"This day in the Hall of Assembly, in the presence of the great Padishah
himself, we have listened to the arguments of men of diverse faiths. It
is well. As Akbar, the Most High, himself has said, all religions are
good; each man has the god or gods of his fathers; let there be no
obstacle placed against worshipping the divine power in any manner that
seemeth fit. That is both wisdom and justice. That is why I, a Hindu, a
Rajput, one of the twice born, can serve my lord, the Moslem Emperor
Akbar, with loyalty of heart and of sword that no man may question."
At these words the captain of the bodyguard touched the jewelled hilt of
his scimitar lying on the cushion by his side. He glanced around, as if
to see whether anyone present dared to question the fidelity he had
professed. But there was neither movement nor remark among his
listeners, and with a disdainful little smile of self-complacency he
resumed.
"During to-day's discussion, in the spirit of tolerance that Akbar
teaches to all of us, we Rajputs have had to harken to severe
upbraiding. We are accused of inhumanity because in our homes a female
child may be done away with at birth, lawfully and without dishonour. Be
it so; the fact itself I shall not dispute. Nor shall I defend the
practice except to point out that a woman more or less in the world does
not matter, that the babe suffers no pain and knows no ill, that had she
lived it might have been to a life of widowhood--if courage were wanting
to choose the suttee--and therefore to long days of shame and sorrow.
"Furthermore, has it to be remembered that the marriage of one of our
daughters costs much money. According to the rules of our caste and the
customs of our race, the ceremony must be worthy of the parents and of
the position they occupy; all of the district must be feasted, and let
the expense be grievous as it may it must be borne. To some who are rich
the money thus spent is of no account. But to others who are poor yet
proud--and all Rajputs are proud--a wedding that is seemly for a
daughter of the house may mean poverty and ruin for the father and
brothers during twenty years to follow. In certain circumstances this
misfortune cannot be thought of. The honour of the race, the very safety
of a whole clan, may depend on rigid economy as a provision against
danger. So it may be both right and wise for an infant daughter to be
put painlessly to her death. Such was the doctrine my father taught me,
and his name is blessed."
The speaker dropped his eyes, folded his hands across his breast, and
for a full minute remained in silent meditation. When at last he looked
up again, there had come over the usually stern and haughty face a
wonderful glow of kindliness, and his voice took a softer modulation.
"However, know this, my friends, that in my zenana at Jhalnagor there
are little girls--three, and more will be welcome should the divine
Krishna send them. Three little daughters have I, all born of my wife
Lakmibai, the jewel of Jhalnagor. With sons also am I blessed--two brave
little boys, of whom I may well be proud. But I love them not more than
my daughters, nor would I change any one daughter for a son. This do I
say out of the truth of my heart, and in no wise because fortune has
been kind to me and mine, and has given us such prosperity that there is
a fit dower for each daughter without my treasury knowing the loss.
"So when the learned mullah from Stamboul denounced infanticide, I was
one with him in sympathy, for my inclination is to cherish with love and
care every female child the gods send.
"Now would you hear how a Rajput came to this manner of thinking? My
story is that of a little maid. Listen. It happened just five years gone
by.
* * * * *
"Under the firm and just rule of our master Akbar there has been peace
for many years in our part of the world. Except when, as now, I come to
Fathpur-Sikri for my yearly month of service in providing part of the
Emperor's bodyguard, I live quietly among my own people. The soil around
our villages is tilled, our shopkeepers buy and sell, we worship in our
temples, and we are happy, for no enemy comes to disturb the peace of
our beautiful little valley of Jhalnagor embosomed among the hills.
"One day it befell that I had gone on a hunting trip with a party of my
friends. In the early dawn we had descended from the fort on the hill
top which is my home and the rallying-place for my clan--a small clan,
numbering but a few thousands, but nobly born as any tribe in Rajputana,
brave and of honour unsullied, men who have never yet given a daughter
to the harem of a Moslem."
The features of the Rajput flashed with pride. His brother-at-arms, the
Afghan, met the defiant look, and said, with a quiet smile:
"There are many Rajput women wed to Moslem lords."
"Yes, but not Rajput women of Jhalnagor. They would have died
first--many of them did so prefer to die when the Moslem host first
swept over our land. In the hour of defeat, against overwhelming
numbers, within the citadel of Jhalnagor the women of my race, refusing
to accept dishonour, bared their bosoms to the spears of those they
loved, husbands, brothers, and fathers, and so they died."
With hands outstretched and eyes upraised in rapt pride and reverence
for the deeds of his ancestors, again the Rajput fell into momentary
silence.
"The story of the little maid." It was the voice of the physician
recalling the narrator to his task.
"Yes, the story of the little maid," resumed the Rajput. "As I have
said, we had gone to the hunt one morning--a party of twelve, riding on
three elephants. For we were in pursuit of a tiger, a destroyer of men,
which the villagers had marked down in a patch of jungle by the river
side. Of the hunt I need say nothing; we killed the tiger, and, with the
huge, striped body slung across the neck of my elephant, we were
returning home. It was toward evening, for we had rested in the forest
during the heat of the day.
"We were just entering the narrow gorge that leads to the fort on the
hill, when, right on the pathway before me, I saw the prone figure of a
child. Almost my elephant's feet were upon it before the sage brute
himself stopped and trumpeted a warning to us in the howdah, for, the
tiger's body occupying the place where the mahout was wont to ride, the
latter was walking, and he, too, had not noticed the tiny bundle of
bright yellow clothing lying on the road.
"Glancing down, I beheld a little girl with her forehead touching the
dust. At my calling she arose, and spread her hands across her breast.
"'Listen, O chief, to my warning, listen, O my lord,' she called out in
a shrill tone of supplication. Already had I observed that her face was
one of great beauty, although that of just a little child, but six or
seven years old.
"The other two elephants had halted behind mine, and some of the party
had descended. But at the approach of these men the maid shrank away,
and, keeping her eyes fixed in my direction, she continued to address
me:
"'Listen to my words, O chief, and be saved from death.'
"In another moment I had sprung to the ground. As I advanced the child
ran toward me, absolutely fearless. Taking her in my arms, I sat me down
by the roadside. Close to my breast she nestled, and, with sobs and
tears now, told me her story.
"A robber band was in the nullah--less than a mile further along--full a
hundred strong, fierce men and murderers. For they had already slain the
father and the mother of the little maid, humble woodcutters. I had
known them well; they were poor, but of mine own people, and instantly
in my heart I vowed that I would be avenged.
"The little girl, Brenda her name, as she told me in her childish way of
confidence, had hidden in the brushwood all day, trembling and afraid.
But at last she divined that the men had come to slay me, for as the
afternoon advanced they disposed themselves among bushes and behind
trees, also in the hut of her dead parents. And even now were the
assassins in waiting for me, for the girl had seen our party ride forth
in the early morning, and she knew that I had not yet returned.
"When, with wonderful intuition for a child so tender in years, the
thought came to her mind that I was to be assailed, she stole down the
gorge, moving cautiously through the undergrowth, and awaited at the
spot we found her to give me warning.
"The child had described to me the leader of the gang, and I had
immediately recognized Gunesh Tanti, accursed son of a pig, a robber
from across the desert of Sindh, who had more than once ravaged peaceful
villages of Rajputana. He would know that I had treasure in the fort,
and of an instant I could read his wily plan. Moving through the
country, he had doubtless heard a day or two before of this projected
expedition of mine for the killing of the man-eating tiger. So he had
designed to slay me on my homeward way, and, the deed accomplished,
would rely on gaining access to the citadel by loading his ruffians into
the howdahs of my elephants. Once over the drawbridge and within the
portcullised gateway, his murderous scheme might have been easy, for my
score of men-at-arms on duty would have been taken by surprise and so at
a disadvantage.
"But knowing now the danger, I laughed in my beard, for Gunesh Tanti,
this human tiger and slayer of innocent men, just as had been the tiger
now slung across the back of my elephant, was fairly delivered into my
hand. He who had come to trap me was himself entrapped. And thanks all
to this little maid of the glen! At the thought, I patted her soft cheek
with my hand, and in response she smiled up into my eyes with wondrous
trust and winsomeness.
"Our party, as I have said, numbered twelve, this without counting the
three mahouts, lithe and active men, and brave as any one of us. The
neck of the gorge was narrow, and for a hundred yards on either side
there were steep precipices down which rocks could be tumbled on fleeing
men. By a goat path over the hillside the fort could be reached by one
sure of foot and knowing the way. Such a lad was of our party, a cousin
of my own, who could race with the deer.
"In a few minutes he had girded his loins and was on his mission,
disappearing over the crest of the almost perpendicular crag up which he
had clambered. He was to warn the garrison, turn out every man and boy
fully armed, and bid them to sweep down on the ambushed robbers. The
mothers and the maidens would hold the fort. No other garrison, when
once on the alert, was needed for such an enemy."
Again the Rajput smiled proudly, but the silence of intent listening was
unbroken, and he continued:
"The firing of a matchlock was to be our signal that my men held the
upper end of the pass, and were descending on our enemies. Meanwhile, my
immediate followers prepared the rocks above the narrow neck of the
defile and got them ready for instant rolling down. To this last task
four of our number were deputed. The others abided with me. Our plan was
to block the narrow passage by ranging the elephants abreast of each
other, and, so that the animals themselves might not be stampeded by the
unexpected din of battle, we chained their forelegs, first each animal
separately, and then the middle one to his comrades on either side.
"At last all our preparations were completed, the huge beasts in line,
my companions mounted into the howdahs. I alone remained on foot, I and
the little woodcutters' daughter, standing by my side, holding
trustfully to my hand, and no longer weeping.
"'You must come with me, my almond-sweet,' I said, as I raised the child
in my arms, and passed her up into the howdah of my own elephant, the
central one. Then I myself clambered aloft. The tiger's corpse had been
flung to the ground, and our three mahouts sat in their proper places,
iron goads in hand, ready to perform their task of keeping the elephants
under control.
"At last, after a tense period of waiting, the welcome report of the
matchlock reverberated from among the hills.
"The fight does not really concern my story," said the Rajput, grimly.
"It is sufficient to say that Gunesh Tanti and all his band perished to
a man--some slain by the swords of my horsemen charging down the pass,
some crushed by the falling rocks, some of the last survivors, who flung
themselves desperately against our living barrier, dying on our
handpikes or being trampled under foot by the elephants. Not one of more
than five score men lived to carry back the tale of death to the robber
haunts whence they had come.
"On our side some lives were lost, seven in all; but this is the penalty
that brave men have to pay in the doing of righteous deeds. Their
memory is honoured.
"As for the little maid, I had nested her in the best-protected corner
of the howdah, and in the thick of the fray, when a shower of arrows had
fallen upon us, I had covered her tiny form with my shield. But during
the final hand-to-hand fight, when all was din and turmoil with the
shouting of the men and the angry trumpeting of the elephants, I had not
paid her any special heed. From her lips came no sound to attract my
attention--no cry of fear, nor wailing murmur.
"But at the end I looked for the little child, lifting the shield that
had partly guarded her. She met my gaze with a smile. But straightway I
noticed that an arrow, descending almost perpendicularly, had pierced
her soft little arm, and transfixed it to her side. Yet had she not
cried out, nor even now, when I was tending her, did she whimper.
"I drew forth the arrow, breaking it in twain, so as to let the shaft
pass through the arm. Although blood flowed freely, I saw at a glance
that the wound in the body was a mere puncture, and also that on the
limb only a piercing of the flesh. Therefore was her hurt not serious,
although of a certainty painful, and terrifying too for a child so
young. But even now not one word of complaining did she utter. She kept
her sweet smile on me. Brave little maid!
"Tearing a length of cambric from my turban, I had bound both arm and
tender breast, and readjusted the sari of yellow-dyed cotton that formed
her simple garment. And now she reposed, happy and contented, in my
arms. I remained in the howdah, while my companions cut off the heads of
the robbers, and loaded these trophies of victory on one of the other
elephants, so that a triumphal pile might be made in the courtyard of
the citadel. Then, with the tiger replaced on the neck of my own
elephant, we moved for home, a group of fifty horsemen now forming our
escort. The headless bodies of our enemies were left as fitting spoil
for the jackals and the vultures, the latter of whom, scenting the
carrion, were already beginning to drop down, it might seem, from the
blue vault of heaven.
"By the time we gained the fortress the dusk was gathering. Across the
drawbridge, promptly lowered at the sound of our joyful shouting, I saw
my wife standing beside the big carronade that commanded the roadway up
the hill. The smoking match was in her hand, but at sight of me she
stooped and smothered in the dust the spark that would have dealt out
death to the robbers had they ever gained a near approach. Descending
from my elephant, I greeted her and thanked her for the courage of
herself and all the other women, our loved ones.
"Then my friends above handed down gently into my arms the form of the
little maid. At sight of my wife's sweet and kindly countenance the eyes
of the child were lighted with joyousness. But with a quick motion wife
drew her veil completely over her features. Ere this was done, however,
I had caught a strange look in her face--a look of mingled surprise and
terror. At the same moment her old attendant and confidant, Rakaya,
flung herself at my feet, and began to babble for my forgiveness.
"'What means this?' I asked, glancing in profound amazement from the
woman's prostrate form up into my wife's eyes. There again I read the
strangely troubled expression. Puzzled, yet restraining my curiosity
before the others gathered around, I placed the wounded child in my
wife's arms, and, with a gesture to signify that she and Rakaya were to
follow, I led the way to the women's quarters.
"Once within the zenana, I told my story briefly: how the little damsel
of the glen had saved me from certain death, and then, through danger
and through pain, had been brave as the noblest-born Rajput maid could
be. After this recital, I commended the child to my wife's affections,
bidding her love the orphan as she would a daughter.
"Then was the lovely countenance of my wife, the jewel of Jhalnagor,
suffused with great joy. Hugging the child to her motherly bosom, she
exclaimed:
"'Oh, my lord, I have a confession to make, but now you will forgive me.
Do you remember our first-born babe?'
"My brow darkened. I felt the hot flush of shame on my cheeks. For our
first-born had been a girl, and I--disappointed and aggrieved, because I
was then strongly under the influence of my father's teachings, proud of
my family's position and wealth, and fearful to be impoverished in the
future--had given the word that the babe must die. This in spite of my
wife's pitiful tears and pleadings. And it was not the memory of the
deed itself that made me now ashamed, but the memory of those tears and
of how I had repelled her. Through the intervening years I had tried
never to think of this painful episode, and, with two little boys
playing at my knee, had well nigh forgotten the first child that had
come. Mention of the dead and buried past now made me resentful.
"'Why do you speak thus?' I asked, angrily.
"'Because, my lord,' exclaimed my wife, dropping on her knees at my
feet, yet with the little child still pressed to her breast, and drawing
me down to her with her free hand, so that we were all three close
together, 'because, oh, my lord, in our arms now this very moment is our
first-born, our daughter. We spared her, Rakaya and I; we bribed Runjit,
who is now dead, and to whom you gave the terrible orders, and Rakaya
smuggled the babe safe away to the cottage of the woodcutters. Since
then I have managed to see her sometimes by stealth, and have loved her;
but I have never dared to clothe her in any but humble garments--no
silks, no bangles, no jewels of any kind--lest suspicion should be
aroused.'
"'Oh, great master, forgive your humble slave,' moaned the old crone,
Rakaya, grovelling in a corner of the room.
"But to my wife only I paid heed. 'Can this be?' I murmured, surprised
and deeply moved.
"'She is our very own, our little girl.' And back into my arms she
placed the child, whose tresses I straightway fell to fondling, as her
sweet, trustful eyes looked up into mine, beaming with love as if she
had indeed long before divined in her heart that I was her father and
her natural protector.
"'And, oh, my dear lord,' continued my wife, her eyes brimming with
tears, 'thou knowest now it was to save thee that, in the mysterious
workings of fate, this little child was saved.'"
The Rajput paused in his story, bending his head to hide the emotion
that caused his lips to tremble. "A month later," he went on, softly, "a
little sister was born to Brenda, and only last year a third daughter
came to our home. And all, as I have said, are well beloved."
The speaker's face was now upraised. The soldierly sternness had gone
out of it: it shone only with paternal pride and love as he added:
"To-day Brenda, our first-born, is the light of my home, and a year
hence she will be married to the Rajah of Jodhpur, to make the heart of
that great and noble prince of the Rajputs happy for ever-more."
And so ended the Rajput's tale.
* * * * *
There was silence for a time, broken at last by the voice of the
ash-besprinkled devotee:
"Allahu akbar! God is great! Over many things he gives his servants
power."
II. THE HOLLOW COLUMN
TOLD BY THE TAX-COLLECTOR
"Every man's fate is fore-ordained," said the tax-collector,
reflectively stroking his beard. "Although we may not understand it at
the moment each particular event that happens is simply a means prepared
for some destined end that may be many years remote in time. Vishnu the
Preserver saved the life of the little maid of Jhalnagor so that her
father's life might later on be saved. But none can read the future, so
that we are all blindly doing the things of to-day without knowing their
real bearing on the things of a far-away to-morrow. And one man can make
or mar the happiness of another man, even though their lives be
separated by hundreds of leagues in space or hundreds of years in time."
"In your mind doubtless is some tale to illustrate the truth of what you
teach," remarked the astrologer, with a shrewd uplifting of his
eyebrows. "The stars can help us to read the future, as I can prove to
you by a story of actual experience. But before I proceed to my
narrative, pray, friend, let us hear from you."
"Gladly," assented the tax-collector. "The story of this noble Rajput
has brought to memory an incident in my own life many years ago,
likewise serving to show that the gods prepare long years ahead for the
working out of each particular man's destiny. Listen:
* * * * *
"As a youth I was a keeper of accounts in the service of a rich
zemindar, whose estate lay in the Country of the Five Rivers. He was a
usurer as well as a landowner, as had been his fathers before him for
many generations. So in his castle was an accumulation of great stores
of wealth--gold and silver and precious stones, cloth of gold, silks,
brocades, and muslins, ivory and amber, camphor, spices, dye stuffs, and
other merchandise of divers kinds."
The Afghan general stirred, and the scabbard of his sword rattled on the
floor as, raising himself from his elbow that rested on a cushion, he
sat up and assumed an attitude of keen attention.
"Where is this place?" he asked, a wolfish gleam in his eyes, and his
lips curved to a smile that revealed, under the black, curled moustache,
the white gleam of sharp-pointed teeth.
The story-teller also smiled, knowingly, and raised a deprecatory hand.
"Nay, friend, this zemindar, my first master, was not fated to be
relieved of his treasure, as my story will tell, even though a skilful
plot had been laid for his spoliation. Which is the very point of my
tale, although I may seem to come to it by a roundabout way of telling."
The Afghan sank back on his cushion, but his gaze remained riveted on
his narrator's face.
"One day I was seated in my home, casting up my books of account, for I
had only that morning completed the taking of taxes from the crops of
the rayats, the tenants of my lord. All of a sudden a white-robed figure
entered the doorway and threw himself prostrate before me. When at last
the face was raised I recognized the dhobi of the village that nestled
under the hill on which was perched the castle of the zemindar.
"'O thou washer of clothes,' I asked, 'what is thy plaint?'
"'Protector of the poor,' replied my visitor, 'behold my bandaged feet,
beaten with rods until they are swollen and torn.'
"I looked, as requested, and saw the blood-stains soaked through the
wrappings of linen.
"'Thou art an honest and a peaceful man, Bhagwan. Why this cruel
punishment?'
"'I know not, indeed. But I have come to thee, because I have endured
the wrong at the hands of thy master.'
"'Tell me thy story.'
"'As you have said, O my protector,' began the dhobi, assuming a sitting
posture and spreading the folds of his loose-flowing cotton garment over
his bandaged feet, 'I am an honest man. And it is for that very reason I
have suffered. Yesterday, among the apparel I received from the home of
the zemindar to be made clean and white was the bodice of a woman, and
tied in one corner of this piece of raiment was a ring set with bright
red stones that gleamed as if they were aflame. Straightway I returned
to the palace of the zemindar, and, entering the audience chamber where,
as is his wont at that particular hour each day, he was seated receiving
the complaints of the oppressed, did my humble obeisance, and then
placed in his hand the jewel I had discovered. He asked me where I had
found it, and when I replied truthfully, his eyes flashed with anger,
and his voice thundered at me in rebuke. Although I had done no wrong,
but rather a virtuous deed, I implored for pardon. But in vain. My mind
grew confused, and the next thing I remember was the sharp cut of bamboo
rods upon the soles of my feet. I was in a small vaulted chamber, bound
to a wooden bench, surrounded by the zemindar's soldiers, and powerless
except to scream out in the agony of each blow. Thirty strokes were
counted, and then I was flung out of the gates of the castle, to limp my
way home.'
"Tears of self-pity were in the dhobi's eyes as he recounted his tale of
woe. Even then I was reflecting on the real cause of the zemindar's
wrath. The jewel had been discovered in the folds of a garment worn by
one of the women in his zenana, and his quick access of anger showed
that the gift had come from some other hand than his. Savage jealousy,
therefore, had prompted the act of injustice inflicted upon the
unfortunate washerman. I knew my master so well his sullen moods, his
outbursts of passion, that already I could arrive at this conclusion
with certainty.
"'Proceed,' I said, indifferently, for it is well that a man should
keep his own counsel in such delicate affairs. 'What is my concern with
your misfortune?'
"'Harken, O dispenser of bounties! Last night when I lay nursing my
wounds, I remembered that the ring which had proved the cause of my
misery had been wrapped in a fragment of paper whereon were some strange
marks and lines as in the books of learned men. This I had flung away,
at that time deeming only the ring to be of any consequence. But the
thought came to me in the night that perhaps the paper might tell
something about the ring. So all this day have I searched among the
bushes by the stream where I beat the clothes on stones and wash them.
And behold, I have found that for which I have been seeking.'
"Hereupon the dhobi loosened the loin cloth beneath his upper garment,
and extracted from its folds a tiny roll of paper. This he presented to
me, with a bow of deference to my superior understanding of such things.
"'This time I have come to you,' he said, 'a man of learning and of
justice, not like unto the cruel zemindar. Does the paper tell why I
should have suffered such shame and pain at his hands?'
"I had unrolled the scroll, the folds of which showed that it had served
as a wrapping for the ring. The writing was in neat Persian characters,
and I had no difficulty in deciphering it, for the four lines that met
my eyes had been recited to me only a few days before by the very man
who claimed to be their author.
"Now did my very heart tremble with agitation. But to the dhobi I
appeared cold as the waters of the snows that melt on the mountains.
"'This writing would only add to your troubles,' I said. 'Here, let me
destroy it.' And, turning to the red ashes burning in a brazier near at
hand, I dexterously substituted a fragment of paper, on which I had been
figuring my accounts, for the paper received, from the dhobi, placing
the former on the glowing charcoal embers and bestowing the latter in
the security of my girdle. A curl of white smoke, a puff of flame, and
the work of destruction was, to all appearance, completed.
"'In view of your misfortune, my friend,' I resumed, 'I bestow upon you
in the name of my master ten maunds of dal, which will be sent to your
home on the morrow.'
"The recipient of this unexpected bounty prostrated himself before me.
"'O prince of justice, no longer do my wounds pain me. The bellies of my
children will be filled for many long days to come.'
"'Then go thy way, rejoicing in thy heart even though limping on thy
feet. And remember that silence is golden. Say not one word more to
anyone about the ring or the paper, your punishment or the reward that
has now redressed the wrong. Go in peace.'
"And the dhobi, after profuse expressions of gratitude, hobbled from my
presence.
"Alone with my thoughts, I felt sorely troubled. The writer of the
verses of ardent poetry written on the paper brought to me by the
washerman was my cherished friend, a youth from far-away Bokhara, Abdul
by name. This young man had come to our country only a year or so
before, bringing several beautiful Arab horses for sale. These the
zemindar had purchased, and had retained Abdul in his service, for the
youth was skilled in the management of horses, and in the rearing of
young stock.
"Abdul and myself were much of an age, and my regulation of expenditures
in the stables had brought us constantly together. So a close friendship
had resulted, valued greatly on my side, for I had soon come to know
that Abdul was a man of refinement and learning such as I had never
before encountered in any man of so humble a calling. And despite the
fact that he was a Moslem and I a Hindu, he had chosen me as his
intimate friend, his only confidant. Thus had it come about that at
times he had read to me of an evening songs of his own composing, and
even on occasion had sung them to the accompaniment of a small harp, the
strings of which he touched with wondrous skill and sensibility.
"Now did I know that this dear friend of mine had endangered not only
his well-being but his life, by sending into the zenana of our master,
the zemindar, a love token and a love message for one of the women
dwelling there.
"Thus ran the fateful lines, written after the style of the famous
Persian poet, Omar the Tent-Maker, which I now read again on the paper
withdrawn from my girdle:
This ring, O idol mine, tells one is here
To bring thee joy, to kiss away the tear.
Keep in thy heart the ruby fire of love;
The hour of thy deliverance is near.
"And, after reading, I felt thankful that the message had not fallen
into the hands of the zemindar, else had the intriguer's identity been
quickly determined and his fate as quickly sealed.
"Yet the lines breathed the spirit of honourable love, and my heart was
stirred to aid my friend in his daring enterprise.
"Patiently during the afternoon I waited, cogitating the while, and
counting the chances. At last about an hour before sunset Abdul came to
me with his usual gay smile and happy greeting.
"He read trouble in my look, for straightway he asked of me:
"'What is wrong? What matters have gone amiss?'
"I motioned him to sit by my side, and then without more ado told him of
the evil turn that had befallen the dhobi, and showed him the quatrain
of verses.
"'These you wrote?' I questioned.
"'With my own hand,' he answered, gravely, but without excess of fear.
"'And the ring with the flaming red gems?'
"'Was her mother's own ring. Zuleika would know it in an instant.'
"'Zuleika--who is she?'
"'Listen, my brother, for fate points that to thee should I give my
fullest confidence. Zuleika is a maid of the Turkmans, betrothed to me.
But a year ago, when gathering flowers in our valley, she was stolen by
roving freebooters. And, true to my love, I have followed her here, to
the home of the zemindar, your master, who purchased her from the
marauders.'
"'How came you to know that she was here?'
"'Never mind. I am a man of resource and observation, and I tracked the
maid. Moreover, gold opens the gates of confidence, and of this I have
goodly store.' As he spoke, he touched a pouch that hung from his
girdle, 'For I am not, as I may have seemed to you, a mere dealer in
horses, but the son of a great chief in my own land.'
"He had drawn himself up proudly, and I bowed my head, in homage as well
as in acquiescence. For the news did not surprise me, and in a friend of
such noble bearing and high attainments I was well content to recognize
an overlord.
"More did he tell me--about a grass-cutter in the stables who had ridden
with the robbers, and knew where the captive had been disposed; and
about a dancing girl who had carried the ring into the zenana, and
brought forth Zuleika's answer in return, telling that she was well,
that she was destined as the bride of the zemindar's eldest son, but
that she would resist all advances until rescued by her lover, the pearl
of her heart, now thrice dear because he had followed her so faithfully
and so far.
"Abdul, fearful of danger to Zuleika because of the discovery of the
ring, was for instant action--the hiring of bravoes, and a bold attack
on the zemindar's person, taking him unawares, carrying him off and
holding him to ransom, deliverance of the captive maid of the Turkmans
being the price of his freedom.
"But I had more subtle counsel to offer. For by foreordaining of
Providence there rested in my breast certain knowledge, the real use of
which was only now being revealed.
"'Harken to me, Abdul,' I said, 'and I shall show you a way out of your
difficulties--a way, too, that will lead to the attainment of your
heart's desire. Send out to-night relays of horses along the northern
road, and reserve for your own use the fleetest and strongest steed in
the zemindar's stables. To-morrow morning early the dancing girl will
carry a message to Zuleika, bidding her to watch and wait for you near
the door in the women's quarters that leads to the treasure room of the
zemindar.'
"'Of a surety you jest at me,' interposed Abdul. 'How can I gain access
either to zenana or to treasure chamber?'
"'All will presently be made clear. At the appointed place Zuleika must
await your coming, to-morrow during the hour of the zemindar's public
audience. Him shall I engage in business matters while you carry off
your beloved. In this you cannot fail, for God, the Lord of the
Universe, pitying and helping you, has long years ago prepared the
precise means for the accomplishment of your purpose.'
"'Still do you speak in riddles, friend.'
"Nay; listen, Abdul, and though you, a follower of Mohammed, may think
of me as an idol-worshipping Hindu, you will yet see that the same
supreme spirit rules both our destinies, making me the instrument of
your happiness, because of certain knowledge which I possess. There is a
secret which my father entrusted to me before he died, bidding me to
guard it jealously until occasion for its application might arise. And
behold now the appointed hour has come.'
"'You know the council chamber of our lord, the zemindar, with its
three-and-thirty columns of white marble. These are massive, seeming to
have been hewn out of single pieces of rock--base, pillar, and capital
all in one, each column in its entirety a single piece of quarried
stone. But learn that this is not so, for these monoliths are in reality
artificially made, having been fashioned by clever workers from the
Coromandel country, who brought with them here supplies of a certain
hard white stone, which they first roasted to a great heat, and then
ground to the fineness of flour, finally compounding this material with
other things, and constructing therefrom the columns of marble you now
behold.'
"'Indeed have I marvelled at their size,' commented Abdul, 'and wondered
how such mighty blocks of hewn stone could have been obtained or set in
place.'
"'Well, you learn now that they were not quarried but moulded. This work
was done in the time of my father, when he was treasurer in the service
of the zemindar, then a young man. Now, know that the architect of the
zemindar's palace was a dishonest knave, for he contrived that one of
the three-and-thirty columns of marble should be hollow, and fitted
inside with steps or holding places of iron, so that a lissom man might
ascend and gain access to the treasure chamber above. This he confided
to my father, seeking to gain him as a confederate in systematically
robbing their master. But my father had a heart of gold and a hand of
steel, for he slew the would-be thief after disdainfully rejecting his
base proposal. Yet did he keep locked up in his own breast exclusively,
knowledge of the hollow marble column, and of the sliding sections that
gave access to it both above and below. For knowledge is power, he
argued, and no man should squander such power any more than he would
squander wealth. The destined time would come for the use of the
knowledge, and it was in this faith that, just before he died, he
confided the secret to me, his successor in the office of treasurer.
"'And with me unto this day the secret has remained. But now at last the
workings of fate are disclosed. How old art thou, Abdul?'
"'Four-and-twenty summers,' he replied.
"'Well, a full score years before you were born God so contrived that
there should be a means for you to rescue the pearl of your heart, and
escape, both of you, back to your own country. Go now and arrange the
relays of horses, as I have directed, and when to-morrow's sun has
risen, send by the hand of the dancing girl the message to your
betrothed within the zenana, bidding her to be prepared. An hour before
the zemindar's noontide council I will meet you, and, conducting you to
the vaults below the assembly hall with its three-and-thirty columns of
marble, will show you that particular column which, by the touching of a
hidden spring, will open a passage way whereby you can climb to the
zemindar's treasury. The door of that chamber you can open on the
inside, simply by pushing back the wooden bolt which serves as a lock
and answers only to a key on the other side. Let the maid be waiting
there at the appointed time for your coming. Now go, brother of my soul,
and make your preparations. Then sleep, for sleep is the best surety of
success when wakefulness and courage come to be required.'
"Next day shortly after the hour of noon, the zemindar was seated in
council. He was a big stout man, having waxed fat with age and
prosperity. His beard descended to his waist like the moss on an old
tree, and, above, his moon-like face surveyed complacently the circle of
courtiers, soldiers, and retainers. Petitions had been presented,
judgments had been spoken, and affairs of the day had been discussed,
and we, the few close counsellors who tarried, were only awaiting the
raised hand that would have bidden us go our several ways.
"'Where is Abdul?' of a sudden asked the zemindar, casting a glance of
inquiry around.
"'He has been smitten with a fever, my lord,' I answered, taking upon my
shoulders the burden of excuse, and telling no falsehood, for surely
love is the fiercest burning fever of all.
"'Ah, ha!' muttered the zemindar, in a guttural note of disappointment.
And there and then I saw him toying with a ruby ring, not worn upon one
of his fingers, but held lightly between his two hands.
"'Does anyone here know aught of this bauble?' he added, raising the gem
aloft.
"There were glances of inquiry from all around, then bows and gestures
and murmurs of disavowal. I alone remained irresponsive, for at that
very moment every fibre of my being was strained to nervous rigidity. My
senses were preternaturally at work. The marble column against which I
was leaning with seeming carelessness, vibrated under my hand. Within
its circular depths I could see Abdul descending stealthily and slowly,
his one free arm pressing a silken bundle to his breast. Even to my
nostrils there was wafted the fragrance of attar of roses, and with the
exhalations of perfume came a gentle sigh of timidity almost at my very
ear.
"I was moistening my parched lips with my tongue, when I awoke from my
momentary trance. The zemindar's eyes were blazing down at me.
"'Villain, this ring is yours!' he cried, struggling to his feet.
"'Not mine, my lord,' I protested, flinging myself at full length before
him.
"But at that very moment there rang forth the sharp tattoo of a horse's
hoofs on the paved courtyard without, followed by the sharp challenge of
a sentry, the bang of a matchlock, and then a very babel of excited
yelling.
"Every one in the audience hall swept outside, even the zemindar, his
dignity all forgotten. Left alone, with swift consciousness of the
suspicion that had fastened itself upon me, and of my powerlessness to
deny connivance with the escape of my friend, I gathered myself up and
fled by a side passage to a ghat on the river. Here I had a boat
prepared for just the emergency that had happened, and because of this
happy foresight I am enabled to-day, after more than two score of years,
to tell the tale."
* * * * *
"And the zemindar?" asked the Afghan soldier.
"Dead long since."
"The hollow marble column?" pressed the interlocutor.
"Its secret remained unrevealed," replied the tax-collector. "Trusty
friends told me later that the flight of Abdul on a fiery stallion, with
a female figure clinging to him on the saddle behind, ever remained a
mystery. So the youth had had the presence of mind to close the sliding
panels above and below."
"He escaped? He lived?" queried the Rajput.
"Assuredly," came the quiet reply. "I have never seen nor heard from
Abdul from that day to this. But as destiny had provided, long years
before the actual event, a means for the accomplishment of his
happiness, I have ever rested content in the belief that all was well
with him--that all is well with him even yet perhaps--with him and his
beloved in the valley of far-away Bokhara."
"I should like to find that hollow column," muttered the Afghan.
"As I have said, the column was contrived for love and not for rapine,
my friend. Should the white stone from Coromandel that can be cunningly
wrought into marble ever cross your fate, be on your guard lest the omen
mean, not the gaining of a fortune, but the making of a tomb."
The Afghan smiled, half disdainfully, half uneasily, and silence reigned
for a spell.
III. WHAT THE STARS ORDAINED
TOLD BY THE ASTROLOGER
"And now, master star-gazer, your proffered story," said the
tax-collector, bestirring the company from its meditative mood.
"As I have promised," responded the astrologer, "I shall recount an
experience that shows how the stars, if read aright, can tell us the
influences for good or for evil that weigh upon a man and inevitably
determine his destiny at the critical moments of his life. What is
written is written, and it is impossible to strive against fate."