"What is it?" asked the Meerza anxiously, as they passed into the inner
court. "Why hast thou come, Pahar Singh, thus early?"
"Is he above--Ali Adil Shah?" asked the robber; "what I have to say is
for him alone. And thou hast recognized me, O Meerza?"
"He is," replied the Meerza; "follow me and be silent. I will tell him.
Yes, I knew thee, and he trusts thee."
The eunuchs of the lower guard bowed their heads on their folded arms
as the two men passed and ascended the stair together. When they
reached the terrace, the Meerza stepped on and drew aside the curtain.
"He is come, my lord," he said in a low tone--"he--the robber."
"I thought so," replied the King; "bring him in."
As Pahar Singh entered, the light of the lamp shone full on him, and
revealed a haggard anxious face; his large eyes were gleaming wildly
from among the heavy masses of his matted hair, now hanging about his
shoulders; but the disguise as a Mahomedan mendicant was as complete
as that of the Hindu Jogi had been. He made no lowly reverence, but
advanced boldly--defiantly, as it were--to the edge of the carpet, and
the King involuntarily grasped the hilt of the short sword lying beside
him.
"The King might kill me," said the man, observing the action; "a word,
and the head of Pahar Singh is struck from his body by those eunuchs
yonder. There is no escape hence--is it not so? Yet I have trusted
thee, O King, and do not fear thee, even as thou didst not fear me. I
am here, true to thy salt; and what I have to tell thee is as true as I
am."
"Fear not," said the King, "and speak freely; thou art safe here."
"Does he know all?" asked the robber, pointing to the Meerza.
"All, friend. Was he not with me, and are not these the letters?"
returned the King. "Else----"
"I believe thee, Adil Khan," said Pahar Singh. "Now, listen: time is
short, and much has to be done ere thou art safe."
The King started. "Safe?" he cried.
"Ay, safe, my lord. Khan Mahomed was at Almella yesterday, and is on
his way hither now. He will be here about the third watch of the day,
or sooner. What brings him, think you?" said Pahar Singh, rapidly.
"I sent him a letter of assurance, and he believes it," said the King.
"Believes it, King? He?" exclaimed the man derisively. "He? Thou art
but a simple boy to think so. No, he has understood it rightly, and in
reply has brought some hundreds of my men with him. What for?--it is
in thine eyes to ask--what for? I will tell thee. Ah! thy heart tells
thee now: there is no need for me to speak."
"Then his designs are evil, friend," said the King, with a slight
shudder.
"King! without that letter he was not to be trusted. After he
received it he knew his fate," returned Pahar Singh. "We--I--have an
evil reputation, they say: and he believed I would do anything for
money. He sent an express messenger for me from Nuldroog. I had come
here with those letters, but my son went. Money was offered to him:
rank--an estate--whatever he pleased. Money? yea, much money. A lakh
of rupees--more. Why? thou already knowest. Yes--to kill thee, O Adil
Khan, thou wert not to live over to-day. My son pleaded fatigue and my
absence--time also to collect the men. That is why Khan Mahomed did not
arrive yesterday. That is why he is at Almella now. My son is shrewd
and wise--he secured all he could of the Wuzeer's money; and then--ah,
blessed boy!--he rode on to meet me last night. Ha, ha! they thought
he had gone to Itga to hurry on the men; but he is a good youth--he
knew what to do. A gallant horse is that which that Lalla left with us;
thy life was on its feet, O Prince! and my boy was in sore temptation.
So he reached me last night, just as I had gained my hiding-place, of
which he knew. Ah, I was sick at heart, for my brother was dead----"
"Dead!" cried the secretary; "God forbid! he was with thee, and well."
"Ay, dead, Meerza," continued Pahar Singh. "Yes, murdered--perish the
cowardly hand that struck the blow in the dark. We were attacked by
robbers, who had watched us, and he was struck down in the fight. I
went for assistance to carry him, and when I returned he was dead, and
a knife-wound in his heart. Enough, master," continued Pahar Singh,
dashing his hand roughly across his eyes. "He died in thy service.
Enough for him."
"And then?" asked the King.
"My son had consented to do the work; and that slave, the Wuzeer,
believed him. The boy told me he pretended to hate the King, and that
there was a death feud between our house and thine, Adil Khan--was
it not good? O, he is a clever youth that. It was he who got those
letters, too: and now he has received money from the slave. Enough!
Speak, O King. Is the slave to be delivered into thy hand alive, or
wilt thou give him to me--to me, Pahar Singh? Dost thou doubt me? I
ask no money--no reward from thee. Thy house--thy very life--is in
peril: Pahar Singh can save both, and ask nothing but to be held true
to his master's salt. Nay, do not interrupt me," he continued, waving
his hand, while he wiped away the foam which, in his excitement, had
gathered on his lips. "Think, Adil Khan, was thy royal house ever so
threatened before? Hath not the Wuzeer prepared the enemy to make his
last swoop upon thee, even as a falcon on a hare; and wert thou dead,
with no son to rally men around him, and Khan Mahomed holding the
power,--could thy kingdom be preserved? Are the Moghuls idle? Is Sivaji
Bhóslay indifferent? Above all, could thy royal armies have saved thee
had I been a traitor?"
"Come hither," cried Adil Shah, from whose eyes the tears were welling
fast as he thought upon his defenceless state, the deep treachery which
had been meditated, and the rough earnest devotion of this strange man.
"Come hither: let me put my hand on thy head."
Pahar Singh advanced. The squalid mendicant covered with rags--to all
appearance what he seemed, so complete was the disguise--trod boldly
upon the royal bed of satin and velvet; but he bowed his head to meet
the hand which the King extended and laid upon it gently.
"As thou wilt, true servant," said the King, "for there is a stern and
fearful necessity to be encountered. Whatever reward thou mayst claim
hereafter is freely bestowed upon thee--all thou hast ever done against
me or my people is forgiven. Take that slave for thine own if thou
wilt, to deal with as it seemeth good to thee."
"Remember," cried Pahar Singh, seizing the King's hand and detaining it
upon his head, "these words cannot be revoked. Whatever happens, I do
but thy bidding, O King; and, only for the need for thee to know it, I
had done the same even though I had not seen thee. Now I go, whither ye
cannot trace me, but ye will hear of me ere the day is past."
"Go," replied the King. "I have no fear of thee or of thine acts. Alla
and the Prophet direct and keep thee, O true friend, whom he hath sent
me in my need. Go!"
"Only be careful," continued the man, withdrawing the King's hand
from his head, kissing it reverently, and then releasing it--"only be
careful! Stir not beyond the fort till the news comes to thee. The
guards on the gates and within are of the true party, and thou art
safe with them. Care not for revolt; the Wuzeer brings no men with him
but my own. My son prevented those he brought from coming on, and they
returned to Nuldroog from Almella. None of his party here dare stir.
Yet, if there be any movement, send for Afzool Khan and his son Fazil;
they are my bitter enemies, but they are true to thee. Nay more, the
Wuzeer's son is not with his father in this matter, and is true to
thee, O King, because of the young Fazil. And now I go. Send me beyond
the gate, for I must not depart as I came."
"I am ready to go," said the secretary. "They were marvelling at thy
sudden appearance. How was it?"
"I may tell thee some time or other," returned Pahar Singh, smiling;
"but come, it is almost day. Yet, ere I depart, my lord, I would kiss
thy feet. The reverence I once paid thy father, the noble Sultan
Mahmood, I would pay to thee." And so saying, he prostrated himself,
embracing the King's feet, and kissing them respectfully.
"Would thou wert a true believer, and thou wouldst be as a brother. O,
that I could reward thee adequately," said the King, with much emotion.
"I am better as I am--free," returned Pahar Singh. "When I have earned
reward, Adil Khan, I may ask it if I live; and if I die, remember there
was one true heart among thy people, and protect my Gopal--my son. Let
us not speak of reward; there is nothing now between us but true faith,
as thou art witness, O Meerza, and that faith was never yet given for
gold."
So saying, he turned and passed rapidly through the curtain, followed
by the secretary.
Was there any doubt in the young King's mind now? None; all was clear.
There was no thought of mercy--none of receding from determination.
There could be no question of Pahar Singh's story, else why had he,
outlaw and robber as he was, trusted himself in the very palace?
There was no appearance about that strange man which could lead to a
suspicion of deceit, and his grim devotion in this emergency affected
the King deeply. Even if Pahar Singh failed, the course was clear. The
Wuzeer must be confronted with the silent witnesses of his treachery;
and in Afzool Khan and a score of other trusty adherents, the King felt
he had ample protection.
No; it was no deception. After a short interval of silence, the
Fakeer's cry, "Ulla dilâyâ to léonga!" again arose more sonorously,
more confidently than before, and the King, stepping out on the
terrace, listened, speculating how far the man might be gone on his
deadly errand, and what would come of it, so absorbedly, that the
secretary's footsteps, as he ascended the stair, were not heard, and
the King started as he spoke once more.
"He is gone, my lord, on his work. I saw him pass beyond the gate."
"Did he say aught?"
"Nothing--he did not speak again. As he passed out of the court he
shouted his cry, and continued it, walking rapidly till he was beyond
the bridge of the ditch. Many of the men saluted him, and some offered
alms, but he answered no one, and, still shouting, pressed on so
quickly that I could hardly follow. When I last saw him, he had turned
by the 'Goruk Imlee' tree, and was running fast; and so God speed him!"
"Ameen!" sighed the King. "Thou must not leave me to-day, Anwur Ali.
Order a Durbar at noon, and there will we await the end. He or I,
Meerza, whichever God wills; but it shall not be said of Adil Khan that
he shrank from his fate into his zenana. Go; sleep there on my cushions
for a while; we both need rest," and by another doorway, the King
passed to the inner apartments.