Fazil was as good as his word to his fair sister, and having seen
Bulwunt depart, gained the door which led to the private apartments,
and proceeded to that in which he knew he should find her.
The room was upon the first story, which, by means of deep stone
brackets, had been constructed so as to project somewhat over the
rooms beneath. It contained, indeed for the most part consisted of,
three large oriel windows, overhanging the line of the walls, so that
they commanded a view up and down the main street, which led to Toorweh
and the royal palaces. These windows were large enough for several
persons to sit in and enjoy the air; and the floor of the centre one,
which was the largest, was raised a step above that of the room, so as
to form a dais, on which a thickly-quilted cotton mattress, covered
with clean white muslin, was laid every day, and furnished with large
pillows, so that those sitting there could recline luxuriously, if they
pleased. Between the stone mullions of the windows, carved screens
or shutters of wood had been inserted, which were fixtures, except a
portion in the centre which opened on hinges. Without them were heavy
wooden shutters, lined with iron, with openings to fire from should it
be needed.
The other windows did not project so far, and were in fact single
arches, filled deep with carved latticework, closed during the day,
but open in the evening to admit the fresh air. Beside each was a
large Persian carpet and a pillow. The floor of the apartment had also
a thin carpet of quilted cotton cloth, covered with white muslin;
and the perfect neatness of the whole, the walls being pure white
without ornament, gave evidence of very vigilant superintendence by
the Khan's present wife, perhaps by Zyna herself. One lamp burned in a
corner, and, being agitated by the wind, which blew freely through the
apartment, gave a flickering light, which left much of the space in
actual gloom.
Zyna had been there some time, and the sweet freshness of the evening
air had tempted her to throw open the lattice window to admit it more
freely, as she sat in the balcony or oriel window already mentioned.
Looking out upon what was passing below her, she did not observe her
brother's entrance, and almost started as he spoke.
"I did not hear thee, brother," she said, rising and making way for
him. "Come and sit here, it is so fresh after the rain. What kept thee
so late? We hear the Durbar was very full to-day, and that there are
more rumours of war. O, I pray not, brother?"
"True, sister, there are such rumours," he replied; "but nothing new.
The Wuzeer is at Nuldroog with the army. The Emperor's forces lie about
Dowlutabad, so there is no change. But I was not in Durbar. I was
looking after some other matters. Come and sit here, Zyna, and I will
tell thee. See," he continued, as she seated herself by him, "the city
looks calm and beautiful, does it not? Yet, who can tell the wild acts
now in progress there, and the wild plots which disgrace it?"
In truth it was a fair scene. The house or palace of Afzool Khan stood
somewhat apart from other buildings, upon a slight eminence, and the
room they were in overlooked a large portion of the city to the south,
west, and north. Between the combined twilight and light of a moon
about half-full, the outlines of the city generally, and of some of
the most remarkable buildings, could be seen distinctly, and formed a
picture of great beauty. To the north, the large dome of the mausoleum
of Mahmood Adil Shah stood out boldly against the clear grey sky, as
well as the high dark masses of the King's palaces in the citadel, and
of that of the "Seven Stories" in particular, in the windows of which
lights already twinkled here and there, and disappeared.
A little on the left of the palace was the massive cavalier of the
"Oopree Boorje," with the King's flagstaff on its summit; below, the
dark lines of the fortifications, with lights gleaming from each
guard-room upon the bastions. Thence the eye travelled round the city,
resting here and there upon massive domes and slender minarets, shining
tenderly in the moon's rays, which also fell softly upon the outlines
of terraced houses and palaces, and upon the dark masses of foliage of
their gardens. Over the most populous parts of the city also nearer to
them, the evening smoke hovered like a thin mist, catching reflection
of the thousand lights and fires beneath: and a hum of voices arose
from thence:--otherwise, all was still around them, and the broad
street leading to Toorweh nearly deserted. Night was fast falling, and
a bright star here and there already sparkled in the sky.
"Yes, it is a fair scene, sister," he continued, as she drew closer to
him. "Yet, even now, men are plotting villany and treachery. There is
no peace in it."
"No peace, brother!" she said, echoing his words; "cannot others be as
we are--enjoying what Alla sends them without strife? Why should it not
be so?"
"Why, Zyna? because of ambition, which, with the hot thirst it begets,
dries up men's hearts; because of avarice, driving them to barter
kingdoms and honour for gold; because of fraud, and deceit, and lies,
and profligacy. Alas, girl, where ends the catalogue? Even now I fear
the evil thoughts and treacherous plots of our fair city."
Zyna shuddered, and nestled closer to her brother. "Why is thy speech
so sad to-night, Fazil?" she said timidly; "does aught threaten us or
our friends?"
"Listen, sister, and judge," he returned. "I cannot help these fancies.
Ah, Zyna! if I had one like thee to be with me always--to be more to
me even than thou art--perhaps the world, fair as it lies there, would
have few charms for me."
"She would be forgotten before a bright sword or a gallant horse,
brother," replied Zyna, in a tone of raillery.
"Not so, by the Prophet!--by your head and eyes; no, Zyna," cried her
brother earnestly. "Let such an one come, and thou wilt see what she
would be to me."
"Would it were so, brother! and yet I know of no one--not one as
yet--whom thou couldst love like me. None of the maidens of this city
are worthy of thee; no, not one, Fazil."
"Ah! nothing less than one of the blessed houris of Paradise would
content thee for me," returned the young man, laughing; "but one
like thyself would quite content me, sister. Perhaps even now thou
hast been thinking I have some love-secret to tell thee, for I have
not accounted for my delay these two evenings, but love there is
none, dearest. No--none at all," as she shook her head and laughed
incredulously,--"none. A graver matter, truly, if I am right. Listen,
Zyna, I have told thee of Kowas Khan before--my friend, the Wuzeer's
son----"
"What of him?" she returned, so abruptly that her tone of alarm
startled her brother. "Yes," she continued, correcting herself,
"surely--often--dear brother, hast thou not told me of his bravery when
the Moghuls besieged the city? but do not mention him, else I will go
away."
"Nay, go not, Zyna. I will not tease thee," he replied, "yet why
should I not speak of him? Is he not a hero--a very Roostum? Is he not
beautiful?--a youth for a maiden to love, or a man to make his friend!
But enough of this," for he perceived the confusion his last words had
occasioned: "to say the truth, I am anxious for the whole family, and
there is much cause to fear; the Wuzeer is not keeping his faith with
the King. But for that, indeed----"
"Hush, brother!" said Zyna, again blushing, for she knew that she had
been sought in marriage by the Wuzeer for his son; "may God forbid evil
to him or any of them; and men have as yet spoken well of him. Why
should he be suspected?"
"Alas, who can say?" replied her brother sadly. "Who can tell to what
crimes pride and ambition may not urge a man? Truly, sister, it will
not be marvellous if the Wuzeer, seeing the danger of the Moghuls on
the one hand, of Sivaji Bhóslay on the other, and knowing better than
we do the divisions among our own nobles, should forget his faith,
and try to strike in for himself. 'Twas thus, so writes the historian
of honoured memory, Mahomed Kasim Ferishta, that our own kingly house
rose into existence, and the Nizam Shahy and Kootub Shahy dynasties
also; what wonder, then, that Khan Mahomed--the rich, the honoured, the
powerful--should be tempted to follow examples so successful and so
prosperous?"
"What! and forget his King, who has raised him from--from----" she
could not add slavery; "forget honours, titles, lands, wealth? O
brother!"
"Ah, Zyna," returned Fazil, sighing, "believe me, there are few minds
so noble, and so humble too, as to despise power in little things;
how much less a position so exalted as that of monarch of these
noble realms. Men have already forgotten 'Rehân' the slave, in 'Khan
Mahomed,' the Wuzeer of Beejapoor. We know what he was, we see what he
is, and we can think what he might be. If he is playing for the highest
stake, it is a game in which his life is of no account."
"I would I had not known of this, brother, from thy lips," said Zyna
sadly. "True, it seems to have a terrible distinctness: and his son?"
"Nay, by your head and eyes, he is pure, Zyna. My own dear friend," he
exclaimed, "I would answer for him with my life. As for the rest, 'tis
but suspicion as yet. Whatever the matter I know of may lead to, I am
resolved to see the last of it. Listen.
"Last evening I was coming from the Durbar, and, dismissing the men
who were with me, I rode to some open ground to exercise my horse.
It is not far from the King's palace at Toorweh: and to get there I
proceeded through the outskirts of the city, which lead to the quarter
of the lower orders of the people. I had not ridden far when I met
the palankeen of the King's secretary, attended by some horsemen. It
seemed strange to meet him there, because, when I left the audience
hall, he seemed immersed in business. So I rode up towards it with
the intention of saluting him again, when he shut the door as it were
carelessly, but, as I thought, with an evident desire not to be seen:
this stimulated my curiosity. I had no pretence for following him,
only there happened to be an acquaintance, who was in command of his
escort, and who called me. I joined him, unobserved by the Meerza, and
accompanied him under pretence of friendly chat. By-and-by, as the
better part of the town grew more distant, I asked him banteringly
what had brought so great a person as the King's Meerza into so mean a
quarter, and whether I might see the end of the adventure; and looking
about him--to be sure the rest of the escort were out of hearing--he
told me that, after leaving the court, the Meerza had first gone to
a respectable Hindu house in another quarter and remained there some
time; and when he came out he was attended to the door by a Hindu
soldier, who bade him depart, and told him not to forget the shop of
Rama of Ashtee, in the 'kullal's' quarter, and Tannajee Maloosray.
Thence a man was sent as guide to another house, and he showed him to
me then running with the bearers before the palankeen. 'So I can only
suppose it is some work of the King's,' added my friend, 'with which we
cavaliers have nothing to do.' I thought otherwise, for Tannajee's name
is famous; and we rode on.
"After some time the guide stopped at the door of a decent house,
which I think was a Jungum's Mutt. The Meerza did not get out of his
palankeen, and a man came to the doorway and began to speak in Persian,
after having looked round suspiciously at all of us. I shall not forget
the man, Zyna, for he had piercing grey eyes and a hooked nose. I
suppose he thought no one could understand him, for he did not speak
low. Still, as his head was partly inside the door of the secretary's
palankeen, I could not hear all, and could only approach, indeed,
on pretence of my horse being restless. I heard, however, the man's
direction to the secretary, a Hindu temple of Bhowani, in the plain
on the east of the fort, where papers were to be shown at midnight,
and the Wuzeer's name was mentioned. Thither I will go, 'Inshalla!'
to-night. I can disguise myself, and my speech is Mahratta or Canarese,
as I please, and Bulwunt Rao goes with me."
"Go not, my precious brother," said Zyna, interrupting him; "there
must be danger among these plotters. Remember what thou art to us all,
Fazil."
"If my love were not what it is for Khan Mahomed's son," he replied,
"I would not hazard this matter; but we, thy father and myself, owe
the Wuzeer many favours, and I should hold myself false did I hesitate
to peril something in their cause. Even thou, Zyna, hast not forgotten
how Kowas Khan and our brave Bulwunt Rao fought over me when I had been
stricken down in the Friday's fight with the Moghuls, and but for them
I had perished. Yes, sister, I must go."
"Go? whither, son?" said Afzool Khan, whose entrance had not been
observed by either; "whither wouldst thou go, and for what?"
"Father!" uttered both at the same moment, and, rising, saluted him
reverently.
"Be seated, my children," he said; "I too will join you. Your mother
hath not been here?"
The allusion made was to their father's second wife, whom he had
married after the mother of his children died, and who received from
them all the honour and respect, if not the tender love, of their real
mother. Her name was Lurlee, to which her title of Khánum being added,
she was known among her friends and dependants as Lurlee Khánum; and
she will appear presently in her proper person.
"No, father," replied Zyna, "she was going to cook something for you,
and had something to do with her tables; and said that there was
something going to happen, for that Mars and the moon, or stay--really
I don't know, father, how it was--I forget."
"Ah," returned her father, smiling, "bicharee--poor thing!--those stars
are a sad trouble to her. But what art thou going to do, son?"
"Tell him all you have told me, brother," said Zyna.
Fazil recapitulated what he had told his sister, and finding his father
interested, again stated his intention of following up the secret,
whatever it might be.
"Go, my son," said the old Khan, "I cannot gainsay thee in this matter.
If we can protect Khan Mahomed or keep evil from his house, or if any
of these vile plots can be traced to those concerned in them, a few
sharp examples may deter others. But why not take some of the Päègah?
those are dangerous quarters by night."
"Impossible, father, they are too wary; and Bulwunt Rao says there will
be spies and scouts watching everywhere. So we are better alone, and
with your leave, father, I go to prepare myself."
Afzool Khan opened the casement, and looked out. He partly leaned
out of the window, and appeared to be gazing abstractedly over the
city. The young moon was now low in the sky, and the stars shone out
more brilliantly than before; but clouds were gathering fast in the
south-west, which, from the lightning flashing about their tops, boded
a storm. As yet, however, the gentle light of the moon pervaded all,
glinting from the bright gilded pinnacles of domes and minarets, and
resting tenderly upon the white terraces, walls, and projecting oriels
of houses near him--upon the tapering minarets of his own private
mosque, and the heavy but graceful foliage that hung about them.
"It is a type of what is coming," thought the Khan--"here the moonlight
only partially dispelling the gloom, which will increase; there heavy
night-clouds already threatening. Even so with our fair kingdom: the
tempest of sorrow may break over us. We cannot stop it, but we may at
least endure the trial, and be true to our salt."
He was long silent, and the beads which he had removed from his wrist
were passing rapidly through his fingers, while his lips moved as
though in prayer. Zyna dared not speak, yet he looked at her lovingly
as his lips still moved, and passing his arm round her, drew her to
him. Perhaps with that embrace more tender thoughts came into his
heart, some memories that were sad yet grateful.
"There will be no danger, Zyna," he said assuringly, as he felt her
trembling, and guessed her thoughts; "Fazil and Bulwunt Rao are both
wary. The moon, too, is setting, and it will be dark, perhaps raining.
He comes, daughter," continued the Khan, as Fazil's foot was heard on
the stairs; "let us look at him."
As he spoke, Fazil entered the room and made the Hindu salutation of
reverence to his father. "Should I be known as your son, father?" he
asked.
"Nemmo Narrayen Baba," cried Afzool Khan, laughing, and returning the
salutation in the same style. "If thou knowest thyself, it is more than
I can say of thee."
The disguise was indeed perfect. Fazil was naked to the waist, and a
coarse cloth of some length, which might serve as a sheet if unwound,
was crossed upon his shoulders and chest in thick folds. A long scarf
of thick soft muslin was tied about his loins, leaving his muscular
arms bare and free. On his chest and about his neck was a necklace,
consisting of several heavy rows of large wooden beads, which, with the
cloth, might turn a sword-cut, while both served to protect him from
the damp night wind. About his head was a turban of coarse cloth, and
a strip of finer material, passing under his chin, covered his mouth
and eyes, and was tied in a knot above his turban, leaving two hood
ends hanging down on each side. His face was smeared with white earth,
and above his nose the broad trident of Krishna was painted in white
and red, covering nearly the whole of his eyebrows and forehead. The
loose Mahomedan drawers had been changed for a Hindu waist-cloth, or
"punja," tied tightly about him, and reaching barely to his knee; while
the ends were rolled up, leaving his legs and most part of his thighs
bare, which, with his arms, were covered with brown earth to subdue
the fairness of the skin. The whole of his clothes were of one colour,
a deep reddish brown, which is called "bhugwa," and is the sacred and
distinctive colour of all religious devotees. At his back hung a broad
black shield with steel bosses upon it, and he held in his hand a sabre
with a plain steel hilt and black scabbard, which his father recognized
as a favourite weapon. Nothing could have been better suited for his
guise than the whole equipment, nor was there anything left to desire
in its perfect adaptation to resistance or flight, should either be
necessary.
"Bulwunt waits for me in the garden, and I go. Thy blessing, my
father," said Fazil, stooping forward.
"Go. May Alla, and the saints, and the holy Emaon Zamin protect thee!"
said the Khan, rising, and placing his hands tenderly on his son's
head. "Go, and return victorious!"
"Ameen! ameen!" (amen!) sighed Zyna, for her heart was with her
brother, as he turned to depart upon his perhaps perilous mission.