Jehándar Beg felt that the communications he had heard might have
somewhat disarranged his appearance, and he would not for the world
be suspected by Afzool Khan of agitation of any kind; his ample beard
must not be disordered, nor a hair of his eyebrows crooked. A glance in
a small mirror, which hung in the anteroom, proved that the barber's
skill was necessary, and he sent for his own servant. What other
hand, indeed, could be allowed to meddle with that glorious beard,
or to regulate the orthodox breadth of the moustache and eyebrows?
Who understood the proper darkening of the spot in the centre of the
forehead, as if it were always being rubbed against the ground in
perpetual prayer, like Habeeb Méhtur, the chief of his craft? and
finally, who so admirable a chronicler of all domestic scandal, in
which Beejapoor was at least as prolific as other cities of similar
size and peculiarity of social morals?
So Habeeb, having been summoned, found his master sitting alone where
we last left him, reclining against his pillow in the small room before
described, and saw, at a glance, that his spirit was troubled.
Having made his obeisance, which was not acknowledged, or barely so,
the barber at once set to work, removing the conical lambskin cap which
Jehándar Beg always wore, and subjecting the whole scalp to a series of
manipulations which were inexpressibly soothing. How lightly moved the
practised fingers along lines of muscles and nerves! how carefully was
every stray hair put back into its proper place, or deftly eradicated
with the sharp tweezers. Then, as the momentous matters of eyebrows,
moustache, and beard were severally approached, and where the Kótwal's
rough hand had rubbed his chin, pushed up the moustache, or disturbed
the eyebrows--till every hair seemed battling with its neighbour
or bristling in anger--all was soon reduced to order, and the cap
replaced. Jehándar Beg felt a refreshing coolness pervade his head,
the nervous excitement was removed, and a calmness supervened which he
required for what he had to do.
Yes, a master in his art! Habeeb had made a masterly performance; and
yet so quickly!--long enough, however, for those much-coveted papers
to be taken far from his master's chance of possession to a place of
safety.
"Shookr, Shookr, Habeeb!" (Thanks, thanks!), said the Kótwal at length.
"Hast thou any news, friend?"
What was the barber to say? News? yes, plenty! There was no lack of
that, such as his master relished; but would it be welcome?
"There was a grand entertainment at the Nawab Alla-ool-Moolk's last
night, and some new singers from the Carnatic were there. My lord
should hear one of them. She is very lovely," he replied cautiously.
"Except the blessed Mary, and Fáthma, and Ayésha--on whose names be
peace!--I wish all women were in the burning pit," said Jehándar Beg
savagely, and his hand approached his beard.
"Khóda na khasta bashud!" (God forbid!), exclaimed Habeeb, staying
it. "God forbid my lord should touch what has been done! Even in that
exclamation a hundred hairs have started up. May his slave ask what has
discomposed the fountain of justice this morning?"
"There was some one ill in the palace last night, and a Fakeer was sent
for, who shouted 'Ulla dilâyâ to léonga,' Who was that man? and who was
ill?" asked Jehándar Beg, not heeding the question.
"My lord, no one was ill that I know of. About the Fakeer I will
ascertain, if possible," replied the barber. "I can tell my lord one
thing, however: the Shah--may his splendour increase--went out, even
as the Khaleefa, of honoured memory, of whom we read--Haroun bin-al
Rasheed--was in the habit of doing, to see after his subjects for
himself, to hear with his own ears; and, if people say the truth, there
is enough for him to hear, if he chose to inquire."
The men understood each other perfectly, and exchanged glances.
"People will talk, friend," said the Kótwal; "but where did he go? if
thou'rt sure he went."
"Nay, that is more than your poor slave knows. They say he took the
young Fazil Khan with him, or else the Wuzeer's son. Sure he went?
yes, my lord, quite sure," said the man, emphatically. "I was in the
citadel, and saw him go out."
"Ay, indeed! Boy's tricks, boy's tricks, Habeeb; yet that Fazil Khan
was accounted a steady youth: but he is in trouble about last night."
"Ah, master! we have all been like him once," said the barber,
chuckling. "I suppose it was one of the new dancers----"
"Except that we did no murder, friend," returned the Kótwal,
interrupting him.
"Is my lord _very_ particular about a noble slaying a thief, or a night
brawler?" asked the barber.
"O no! and it will be settled. And now you may go, Habeeb--find out who
was visited last night; perhaps ... no matter ... and thou shalt have
thy mouth filled, after our Persian fashion, with gold zecchins and
sugar-candy. There are a couple in earnest of more."
"May the sun of your splendour increase in brightness, master!"
returned the man, taking the money, and retreating backwards till he
gained the door. "I will inquire----"
"And now for this boy and his rough father," said Jehándar Beg,
speaking to himself, as the door closed on the barber; "if they could
be gained? Well, I must see. If not--we cannot allow them to live; they
are too powerful," and he rose and went into the outer hall.
"And no one has passed here, Jaffur?" said Jehándar Beg to the Nubian
slave, who, with some others, watched the door of the court where
Afzool Khan was confined.
"No one, my lord, except the servants with their meal."
"Did they speak to him?"
"Not a word, my lord; I listened carefully."
"Have the Khan and his son been speaking to each other?"
"Yes, frequently; but as they have moved to the other side of the
court, which is now in shadow, I cannot hear them. My lord is going in?
Should we not attend? They are armed."
"I am not afraid, Jaffur; put up thy weapon. Keep the door ajar, but do
not enter, and, on your life, let no one listen. Do ye hear, all of ye?"
"Jo hookum!" (as you order), cried all together, dispersing as the
Kótwal entered.
Afzool Khan and his son were sitting, as Jaffur had described, in
the opposite corner of the court from the door; for the sun was now
shining with a painful glare of heat into that side by which the
Kótwal entered, while, opposite, the cool verandah was rendered more
refreshing from the shadow of a large champa tree, which fell over the
building and enclosure where they were. They rose courteously as the
Kótwal advanced, and, saluting him gravely, yet without any expression
of impatience at detention, requested him to be seated.
It was no part of Jehándar Beg's policy to attempt to bully. If he
could find out what the affair of the night had really been, or obtain
a clue to the truth of that which had been alleged of the King; in
short, anything which might serve as a guide to action, or as means of
warning to the Wuzeer, it would be enough.
"I trust my honoured guests have been fittingly attended to?" he asked,
as he subsided on his heels at a respectful distance from the old
Khan, joining his hands after the most deferential and most elegant
of Persian customs. "I trust the repast was served hot. My lords must
excuse my absence, and my being taken unawares. Had I expected the
honour of their company, then, indeed, Zoolficar's skill should have
been put forth."
"The kabobs and kichéri were excellent, Meerza Sahib," replied Afzool
Khan, politely. "I was to have had the same at my own house; and there
were other dishes, too. Verily, your cook must be a treasure; there is
not such another in the city."
"My lord, a poor slave, who followed me from my own dear country, and
has remained here with me. Yes, he has a pretty skill in the art, and
... but you have yet to know what he can do.... If I might send him one
day----"
"Shookr, shookr! (thanks), Meerza Sahib. Yes, we will see about
it. Inshalla! inshalla!" replied the Khan, cheerily, "an excellent
idea--and come yourself."
The Kótwal thought he had made a favourable impression. "After all,
there was nothing in the murder matter that you need care about, Meah
Sahib," he continued blandly, to Fazil Khan. "Pardon me if I was rude
this morning, but when we are at business, you know, there can be no
distinction of persons."
"None," said Fazil, gravely; "but who was the man found dead? You said
one had been killed."
"O, only a Kafir Hindu; some son of a burnt father, who is gone to
burn with him," laughed the Kótwal. "I don't know; the body is not yet
claimed. By the way, Meah, it was strange enough that you should have
been just in time to save that Lalla."
"Ah, yes; what has become of him?" asked Fazil innocently. "You
promised he should be seen to."
"And I have done as I promised, Meah. Habeeb has dressed the wound,
which is but a scratch, and the man has eaten heartily; perhaps he was
not much hurt, after all."
"Perhaps not," said Fazil, significantly, "but it was well he fell into
good hands."
"Yes," returned the Kótwal, musingly, "was it not strange what he told
the Duffadar about Pahar Singh and the Shah's secretary? I have heard
that my lord, the Meerza, was out last night late, and at a temple.
Could it have been there?"
"To meet Pahar Singh? I should hardly say it was likely," returned
Fazil.
"Nay, more, that the Asylum of the Faith--the King himself--was there
also. At least--at least----"
Fazil saw Jehándar Beg was not sure. It was a mere guess, for which
there was perhaps suspicion, but he laughed aloud and replied, "A good
joke, Meerza Sahib; perhaps they say I was with him!"
"Well," returned the Kótwal, wagging his head, "the fact is, they
do; and perhaps you were, my young friend. Let me see; his highness
is about your own age. When I was as old I remember the Shah, with
some others of us, used to have frolics now and then in the bazars of
Isfahan. Ah, Meah, there were----"
Fazil made a gesture, as if his father, who was sitting bolt upright,
with his eyes shut, might not like to hear the remainder.
"Yes," continued the Kótwal, "if ye did go, what matter?"
"I have before said that Bulwunt Rao was my companion, not the King;
and the rest you know of," interrupted the young Khan.
"Not all, Meah; but we are out of court now, and I am quite sure of my
young friend's good faith to let me know anything that concerns the
state interests, the King, or the Wuzeer; and so, Meah Sahib, if we
could examine those papers together----"
"Ah, yes! the papers, Meerza, you would not understand them--they were
Mahratta."
"But we could find a Karkoon to read them, and you are known to speak
that language, Meah?"
"True, Meerza Sahib, I do; but the papers are not here----"
"Not here, sir!" cried Jehándar Beg, with an ominous scowl passing over
his face, at which Afzool Khan involuntarily allowed his hand to steal
to his sword hilt, as it lay on the ground. "Not here?"
"Not here," echoed Fazil demurely, dropping his eyes.
"But they were here when you came this morning?"
"Certainly they were; and one of our people took them home for me."
"Yet you promised they should be forthcoming whenever I required them?
Beware, Fazil Khan, how you entangle yourself in this matter," returned
the Kótwal, sternly.
"I do not think I made any promise, Meerza Sahib," replied Fazil;
"'tis you who must be mistaken, pardon me for saying so. I said they
concerned the King, our lord and master, and would be shown to him
only: and in Durbar to-day they will be presented to him. You will be
there, of course?"
"By Alla!" exclaimed the Kótwal; "but if----"
At the oath the old Khan fairly took his sword in his left hand, and
placed it across his knees, while he looked grimly at his host; and
Fazil saw the upper portion of his father's moustache, where it touched
his cheek, quivering with suppressed rage.
Jehándar Beg checked himself, and said, deferentially, "Forgive the
oath, Khan Sahib, and you know enough of Persians to excuse it. It
would have been pleasant, as fellow-servants of the King, to have
shared your confidence. As it is denied, I yield the point; and you are
welcome to all the credit of the service you will do my lord. But what
say you, gentlemen, to assisting me to re-examine that Khayet who is
detained without; you acknowledge, Meah Sahib, at least, that he was
rescued by you--perhaps from death?"
"You have a strange memory, Kótwal Sahib, to-day," said Fazil, smiling.
"I never said I rescued him, I think. Send for the man; no doubt you
will hear all you wish from him, and will believe him. I do not appear
to be very credible to you to-day."