The old Duffadar's account was clear and circumstantial, and the Kótwal
listened attentively. When it was finished, the Kullal was called, and,
prostrating himself, began by imploring protection, which was granted.
"It is a weighty matter, my lords," he said, "and needs much inquiry.
May it please you to listen," he continued, after a pause, as if to
collect his thoughts. "Your slave would represent that he heard a
conversation between the young Khan there and a man whose name may
hardly be mentioned in Beejapoor, Tannajee Maloosray."
"Maloosray!" echoed the Kótwal. "Protection of God! thou art not mad to
say this? or drunk?"
"May I be your sacrifice!" continued the man, evidently observing that
his words had made an impression, "I am not mad, and I have an oath
against wine. I swear by the King's salt, that he spoke with Maloosray."
"And he was disguised like a Gosai, Fureed?" asked the Kótwal of the
old Duffadar.
"Khódawund! what did he tell you himself he was?" replied the man. "He
changed his dress when his father came. Even now the ashes may be on
his body."
"What said the young Khan to Maloosray?" asked the Kótwal of the
Kullal. "Speak truly, or I will have thee flogged through the bazar,
and all thy property confiscated for irregular hours in thy shop."
This was what the man feared from the first. Had Fazil appeared in
favour he would have appealed to him for explanations in regard to the
affray, for which he dreaded he should be punished; but Fazil seemed
already unable to help himself, so he had determined to take his own
course in the opposite direction.
"Why should I tell a lie?" he replied, holding up his hands humbly and
with a gesture of supplication. "I swear by your feet it is true."
Pointing to Fazil, he continued--"He said he knew Pahar Singh was at
the temple, and they sent a man for him; and if he did not come, that
they should meet again. Then Maloosray said something about Sivaji
Bhóslay, and the Moghuls, and the Shah Aurungzeeb, and armies, and
there was another message to Pahar Singh. Then another man struck a
blow at the Maloosray, and they fought, and I screamed out for the
guard, and Maloosray ran off; but I secured him," and he pointed to
Fazil.
"O base-born!" exclaimed Fazil, "thy mouth is full of lies----"
"Hear him," interrupted the man; "he had me tied up till the blood
nearly burst from my fingers, and made me promise not to reveal this.
Behold, my lord, the marks of the cords, and how my arms are swelled.
By my child's head, it is true, noble sir, it is all true. How could I,
a poor seller of ganja and bhung, have dreamed such things of Tannajee
and Sivaji? Do not men tremble at their names? Search the young Khan,
he has papers which Maloosray gave him. I saw them myself----"
"Alas, it is but too clear to me," said the Kótwal, interrupting Afzool
Khan, who was about to speak, "that there is deep treachery here.
Deep plots are being laid, but this poor servant of God has a clue
to one at least. Inshalla! it will be sifted to the bottom. Enough of
suspicion was there against you, young sir, on the other matter, but
this is graver still. Yield, therefore, Afzool Khan, and you, Meah;
resistance is vain, and I would fain spare blood."
As he spoke, the soldiers and attendants, who had gradually gathered
round them, closed in so near that they could have been seized or
overpowered at once, if the old Khan's sword had not been drawn by him
the instant their movement was made. Now, as he stood prepared to meet
any attack, his eyes flashing and his tall figure drawn up to its full
height, no one ventured a step towards them, nor offered to seize his
son, who, on his part, made no attempt at resistance.
"Draw, Fazil, draw!" cried the Khan; "let us see which of these sons of
vile mothers will first die. O that we had a score of our fellows with
us, this insult would not have happened. Draw, boy! a few good strokes
will see us clear of this gang of executioners, and there are enough
men without to carry us through the city. Come on, in the name of God!
Bismilla!"
Saying this, the old man advanced a step, while those before him, so
sudden and determined was his movement, fell back as though they would
have allowed him egress. Fazil, however, saw his father's danger, not
only from the chance of a sword-thrust or blow in the struggle which
must ensue, and the certainty of an attempt at rescue by the men
without if they heard of it, but in the disgrace and suspicion which
would fall upon them if the inquiry were forcibly interrupted.
"Father, father!" he cried, passionately, "do not stir. I implore you,
move not. You know how false this base charge is, and I beseech you not
to let it be said that we feared to meet it, and evaded justice. Yes,
let it be first done on this lying dog, who has misled Jehándar Beg.
See, for one, I surrender myself and my weapons;" and, as he spoke, he
threw his sword and dagger on the floor, which were eagerly secured by
an attendant.
"Degenerate!" cried his father. "Dost thou fear death, boy? When did an
Affghan ever surrender his weapons but with his life? Fie on thee for a
coward, to hesitate to strike a blow for me!"
"Coward!" exclaimed the young man, sadly. "Father, you know not what
you say. Why such bitter words? is this a time for contention?"
"Khan Sahib," said Jehándar Beg, who had risen with the others, and
now advanced, "listen to your son's words of peace and reason. You are
alone, and, though one or two might fall, there would be no escape.
The blood of Afzool Khan, or his son, should not flow in a court of
justice, but against the King's enemies. Put up your weapon, and wear
it, Khan; and you, noble youth, yours. Appearances are against you
both; and these plots have been so long hidden from us, that your poor
servant, the slave of the King--may his splendour increase!--has no
alternative but to detain you till the pleasure of the Wuzeer is known."
"Father, I beseech you to listen to reason--to advice kindly given and
well meant," cried Fazil; "consider what is at stake, and that the
moment we have speech of the King there will be no fear."
Afzool Khan looked from one to the other and around him irresolutely,
and the tears rose to his eyes, and fell over in large drops. Any
advance would have decided him to an act of desperation; but his son
saw the struggle in his mind, and, throwing himself before him, grasped
his feet.
"Father, save your honour," he cried, earnestly; "save your life by
my example. Shall it be said that Afzool Khan died a traitor, or that
a breath of suspicion rested upon the truest, most loyal name in
Beejapoor?"
A moment the old Khan hesitated, but his sword-point dropped, and he
dashed his hand across his eyes impatiently. "My spirit chafes at
the thought of restraint, Fazil," he said; "yet for thy sake, boy, I
submit. But I pray thee, Jehándar Beg, let thine errand to the Wuzeer
be done swiftly, or, by the Prophet, there be those in my service who
would reck little of a rescue. Stay, I had better write; that will
assure them more."
A few lines were hastily written by Fazil, and sealed with the Khan's
private signet. One of the escort was called up, and the note given to
him by Fazil himself, with an order to take the men home, and a caution
to be discreet. The soldier looked about him incredulously.
"Do you remain of your own pleasure, my lord?" he asked.
"Yes," replied the Khan; "we have business here for to-day which cannot
be deferred. Keep quiet, all of ye; but be ready," he added, in an
under-tone; "when I need ye I will send word."
"Very good," cried the man in a loud voice, in order to cover the
Khan's whisper, "very good; I understand; it shall be done."
"You had better withdraw to the private apartments, Khan," said the
Kótwal, respectfully. "I know too well the honour of a Puttán to
question you. Stay there till I return. Refreshment, too, shall be
provided; and I pray you to consider this poor house as your own while
you stay in it. The Wuzeer was at Almella yesterday, and is expected
this evening."
Afzool Khan hesitated, but his son whispered, "We shall be better
there, father, than amidst these curious gazers," and drew him along
gently. He did not resist, but followed passively. "Stay, however,"
added Fazil to the Kótwal; "where is Fureed Duffadar? I would speak
with him."
The man advanced a few steps. "I am here, my lord; what are your
orders?"
"None from me," returned Fazil; "but look you, Meerza Sahib--for the
sake of justice ask of this good man what that Kullal told us; for it
is in the law that the word of a true believer is better than the oath
of a Kafir. And, pardon me, Meerza, but my father and myself, in the
name of the King, hold you responsible for the custody of that man. How
came Maloosray into his shop, or to remain there while a King's guard
was within ear-shot? Ah, liar," added the young man, as the Kullal
was advancing, with joined hands, and about to speak, "no more; thou
hast told enough lies for the present; by-and-by there will be other
questions. Beware of them."
So saying, he passed with his father into the door which the Kótwal
himself held open. It was a quiet, secluded place--a small apartment
supported upon wooden pillars and arches, which opened into a court
shaded with trees. Carpets and pillows were there in abundance, and the
place was cool and neatly furnished.
"The papers, whatever they are, Meah, remain with you," said the
Meerza. "Shall we examine them here privately?"
"They will be shown to the King only," said Fazil, dryly, "for they
concern no one else; meanwhile I am responsible for them."
"Then I will leave ye, noble sirs," returned the other; "be pleased to
rest yourselves."
"O for a moment's speech of the King!" cried the Khan, as they were
alone. "Now it is too late, and Khan Mahomed is lost. Nay, son, 'tis
a pretty court, and not unlike our own Khilwut; but I cannot breathe
freely. Canst thou, Fazil? it chokes me."
"Fear not, father; all will be well, I trust," replied his son.
"Unobserved, I gave a message to the lad Ashruf, who seems faithful, to
be delivered to Kowas Khan. If he comes, all will be well, for he can
warn his father. No harm can happen to us except from the Wuzeer, and
he may----"
"He dare not," cried Afzool Khan--"he dare not think of us; he
will have enough to do to save himself. If the Shah acts--acts
firmly--as--as--I would, son, were I in his place and were it my
dearest friend--he should die. O Khan Mahomed! O friend!" exclaimed the
old man bitterly, "how often have I remonstrated and implored, but you
have not listened! He spoke me fair, Fazil, always,--see what is in his
heart. But what is written, is written. Let it be; we cannot prevent
it."
"Ameen, father! we can only do what is possible to save----"
"I tell thee, boy," resumed the Khan, interrupting him, "I doubt
whether it would be meet in us to interfere with God's designs, and to
help treachery to escape its deserts. The danger is too great to the
King, and, next to God and the Prophet, he is to us dear and honoured.
I tell thee, son, we had better not interfere; it may not be good for
us."
"Nay, father," said Fazil, "so long as we speak friendly truth and
warning, there can be no fear; and what is written in the Wuzeer's
destiny will be fulfilled."
"Thou wilt see to that door with thy life, Nasir," whispered the Kótwal
to one of his chief attendants, a burly Abyssinian slave. "See that
no one passes out or in without my orders. If violence is attempted,
strike,--dost thou hear?--to the death! Proud as Afzool Khan is, he may
yet lower his head, perhaps with his life. And they have papers, which
we must take, Nasir--forcibly, if we cannot otherwise get them:--ere
the sun sets, too, or he passes hence."
"Are we strong enough to keep the Khan, my lord?" asked the man
doubtingly.
"Ay, true; we need be stronger; send this ring," and he took off his
signet, "to the Wuzeer's son. Say we need five hundred men to reinforce
the guard. Yes, we should otherwise be too weak, if those mad Affghans
were to attempt a rescue. Return here when the messenger goes."
"On my head and eyes be it," replied the slave; "no one shall pass
hence save over my dead body."