Tara advanced, still trembling, and clinging to Goolab, and trying to
hide her face in the end of her garment; she was only sensible of the
same sweet voice, as a girl of great, and to her strange, beauty, took
her in her arms, embraced her, and said gently, "Peace be unto you! you
are welcome, with the peace and blessing of Alla upon you!" and that
another taller and older lady embraced her in like manner, and said the
same. After that for a long while she remembered nothing.
When she recovered, she was lying upon a soft bedding in a small room,
near an open window which looked out upon the lake that encircled
the fort, glowing with the reflection of piles of sunset-clouds. On
what seemed an island in the lake was a Hindu temple, with a high
pyramidical roof, around which hung the rich foliage of several
magnificent trees, and temple and trees were reflected double in the
still water. These were the first objects that met her sight.
Then, turning round, the same young face that she had seen on entering
the apartment bent over her, and a soft warm hand was passed over her
face, and the ends of the fingers kissed in loving greeting; but the
girl did not speak, though a sweet smile spread over her features, and
she seemed to beckon with her left hand to another person behind her,
whom Tara could not see. Another moment and her deliverer advanced,
saluting her respectfully.
Fazil had ridden fast to overtake Tara, but had not succeeded. Twenty
men, a light palankeen, and the hope of a liberal reward, had induced
the bearers to put out their utmost speed, and they had well redeemed
their promise of reaching their destination before sunset; but he had
arrived soon after.
"Go away, brother," said Zyna, "do not speak to her now; you have seen
that she is safe--that is enough."
"My sister," he replied in Persian, that Tara might not understand,
"not so. It will grieve her, and thee too, sorely, but she must know
the truth. Do not go away. I will speak to her in her own tongue, and
show her these sad memorials which I have brought. It is mercy not to
delay in such cases.--Can you listen to me, lady, a few moments?" he
continued to Tara; "what I have to tell you is not worse than what you
have already heard, but it will confirm it; and truth and reality are
ever better than doubt."
"If you please to say it, sir," said Tara, who had arisen directly she
saw Fazil approaching, and stood by the window.
"If--if--you saw anything that had belonged to them you would know it,
perhaps," said Fazil hesitatingly.
Tara's bosom heaved so that she could not speak. She appeared as if
gasping for breath, with the same distressing symptoms as when, in the
morning, he had told her first of her bereavement,--and she trembled
violently. She could not stand, and crouched down against the wall.
"O, not now, brother! not now," pleaded Zyna, who put her arm round
Tara, and was supporting her.
But Fazil was merciless. "It must be," he said. "And now, lady, listen.
If you had any doubt, these will remove it. After I left you the second
time I went to the Kuchéri, for what Jánoo Näik told me he had left
there, and these were given as having belonged to your mother, Anunda
Bye, and your stepmother, Radha Bye. Look at them."
As he spoke he untied a bundle he held, and poured the contents at her
feet; heavy gold and silver ornaments of some value, and a few rings.
Tara looked at them for a moment. The silver chain anklets, which were
her mother's, were dabbled with blood, now dry on them; the gold pair
had been made after those on her own feet for Radha's marriage, by her
brother Moro. Enough--all were familiar objects. They swam before her
eyes--the room seemed whirling round, and, weak as she was, she sank
down again utterly unconscious, with Zyna crying over her.
"Let them remain," said Fazil, "she must see them when she recovers,
else she will not believe. Show them to her one by one. I dare not
stay;" and he left the room.
Tara had not however fainted, but she was gasping for breath, and Zyna
called to Goolab to bring a fan, while she opened the casement of the
window still more, to let in air. "He said--he said," sobbed Tara,
trying to speak; "lady, I cannot speak--I am choking--O! why do I not
die? He said----"
"He said you were to look at them all, one by one," said Zyna, trying
to check her own sobs and tears. "He is kind. Fazil, my brother, would
not give you pain unless it were for good. Look! here they are," and
Zyna spread out the ornaments with her own hands, shuddering at the
blood upon them.
Tara looked earnestly at Zyna; the eyes were full of misery--so full
that Zyna could not bear them--passed her hands over her own, pressing
them tightly, then looked away. Tara turned the ornaments vacantly over
and over, sighing, and, as it were, catching her breath convulsively.
There was one, a ring with a sapphire set in it, with which she knew
her mother never parted, for she believed that without it evil would
happen to her, and that it had brought prosperity. It used sometimes
to be put on the altar when they worshipped Lakshmee, the Goddess of
Wealth--else it never left her mother's hand; but it was there. Zyna
did not know this then, but she saw Tara's hand tremble very much as
she took it up and looked at it carefully. There was a dark stain
inside, and Tara put down the ring, gasping, as it were, for breath,
then took it up again.
Zyna watched wonderingly, the changing expressions which passed over
the beautiful features: first despair; then, as it seemed to her,
prayers were murmured in a language she did not understand, and the
features appeared to relax, the upturned eyes glistened, there was
a look as if of hope or triumph upon the face. She moved closer to
Tara, still closer, as she thought she saw tears gathering in the hot
eyes. If Tara could only weep it would be well. Zyna passed her left
arm round her, and gently drew the girl's head on er own shoulder and
bosom; it fell softly there and rested; the hand which held the ring
dropped on her lap, beating restlessly; but the other grasped her so
that it almost caused pain. Kind nature did not suffer the terrible
struggle to continue longer, else Tara had died; and with almost a
shriek of pain, her tears burst forth uncontrollably.
"Thank God for it," said Lurlee, who had entered, and was standing
over them, and who now passed her hands over Tara, as Goolab had done;
"she will be easier for this, and the worst is past: let her weep.
The blessing of Alla and the Prophet on thee, my daughter," she said
to Tara. "I salute thee with peace! Thou hast entered at a fortunate
moment, and there is joy following thy grief. Fear not; thou hast come
to those who will be to thee what thou hast lost."
"She will require much care, mother," said Zyna; "feel how she is
trembling; I will not leave her. Ah, yes--that is the reason; take away
those things, Goolab; wash them and put them by."
Goolab took them up, and with all her choicest epithets of "Poor little
rose! my pretty dove! my lily! my own life!" she tried to soothe the
girl; but Tara heeded no one. Keeping the ring clutched in her own
hand, she hid her face in Zyna's bosom, then suffered her gradually to
lay her head down on her knee, and rock it softly. She dared not speak,
but tried to look up gratefully, sometimes, and then clung the closer
to her gentle nurse.
"Hush," said Zyna, as fresh bursts of tears often occurred, "I know
what has happened, and I will not leave thee, Tara; no, never now. And
he, my brother, says it too." So they sat and lay--the two girls--long
into the night; and gradually, unable to resist the kindness lavished
on her, Tara spoke a little, and Zyna encouraged it, and heard
wonderingly, Tara's simple tale of trial and sorrow.
That night, too, her future fate was the subject of earnest debate,
often approaching the verge of passion, between Afzool Khan, his son,
and the priest. What could they do with a Brahmun orphan, a heathen
unbeliever who was a captive, and a slave, by the laws of war? Long and
earnestly did the priest plead that she should forthwith be sent to the
royal harem. So beautiful a slave would be cherished, loved, and have
every luxury at her command; she might become the mother of princes,
and the head of the state; and Afzool Khan supported this opinion,
which was borne out by texts from the law, plausibly quoted by the Peer.
But Fazil opposed them both, gently yet firmly, and at last almost
fiercely. "She is my captive, if captive at all," he said; "my slave,
taken in war, according to your own texts, Huzrut--and I can release
her, or ransom her, or keep her, as I will. She has relatives at Wye,
where we are going, and with your permission, father, she can stay with
us till then; we will be her safeguard, honourably and truly. After
that," he added with some little confusion, "she can act for herself,
and of her own free will; but to send her to the palace, to be decked
out and noticed for a while, and then flung aside--no, father; better
she died, or better still that we now turned her into the street, to
shift for herself among her own people."
"That would be inhospitable, son, if no more," returned his father;
"well, boy, let her stay, and welcome. No matter," he thought to
himself, "if he have his own way in this thing." The Khan was decidedly
in good humour. The kichéri, kabobs, and some other dishes which were
especial favourites, had been dressed to perfection by Lurlee, and were
relished, as they can best be, with the zest insured by a long ride.
Lurlee had met him in good humour, and the stars were in propitious
conjunction to welcome his arrival. The lady had nothing but good to
say of Tara, whose beauty and sad history had at once deeply impressed
her. "What if she be an infidel," she said, "she will make the better
true believer. Let her stay with us, O Khan! she shall be a daughter to
me," and the lady sighed. "There is nothing unlucky about the period of
her arrival, for the sun was in conjunction with Jupiter, and she was
born under Venus, she says; and as she is a Brahmun she knows all about
her horoscope and the planets; besides, is not this Wednesday, and she
arrived between five and six in the evening, under Venus, so that she
is born to us under the same planet as she was born to her own parents?
Is not that curious? and by-and-by I shall call her Fazila, according
to the blessed scheme of nativity sent by the prophets. And listen
further, Khan," continued the lady, pausing and examining her book.
"Her name now begins with a T, and that stands for Air, and is lucky,
because----" and she was nearly saying it aloud, only she checked
herself in time, "because," she said to herself, "Fazil's name begins
with an F, and that means Fire, and fire and air always agree best,
because the one cannot exist apart from the other."
"I don't understand, Lurlee," said the Khan, "how it is. What about
fire?"
"Never mind," replied the lady knowingly, "you will find out more
by-and-by, Khan! there is a good deal to be done before then."
So Tara escaped another great peril which she knew not of, and remained
as an honoured and welcome guest with her new protectors. And in a few
days, when Afzool Khan had made the necessary arrangements, his army
was ready to move on. These need no detail at our hands, except as
concerns two characters in our history who did not accompany it.
The first was Kowas Khan, who, recalled by the King to manage the
affairs of his own troops, returned from Sholapoor to the capital. The
young man regretted the necessity; for to share a campaign in real
service with his friend Fazil, had ever been one of his most cherished
plans. The King's order was, however, peremptory, and was obeyed. "When
we return," said the old Khan to him as they parted, "the days of
mourning will be expired, and thou shalt have thy desire."
With him was sent the Lalla, who, being naturally of an unwarlike
nature, rejoiced at the prospect of escaping hardships of no ordinary
kind. And was not Kowas Khan the late Wuzeer's son, and nominal Wuzeer
himself? He might become actually so, and what a field for advancement
was opened to him if this should be! "May your prosperity increase, may
you be victorious," he said to the father and son as he took leave of
them. "Inshalla! your poor servant will write you news of the city and
court, after the true imperial fashion, which is more his vocation than
recording battles; only remember that your slave is grateful."
Afzool Khan's army, now organized in all respects, set forward on its
march. A few miles only were traversed daily, and it would require a
month or more ere they could reach Wye. Sometimes a house was found for
the ladies in a village or town near which the forces encamped; but
more frequently they were in the Khan's tents, which were infinitely
pleasanter. The two girls grew together, the more as the first
restraint passed away; and the lady Lurlee and Zyna were never tired of
hearing from the lips of the beautiful heathen, the simple story of her
life, her widowhood, and her strange rescue from dishonour.
Was Tara happy? Yes; when she thought of what her fate must have
been had she not been rescued from Moro Trimmul, or even if Fazil
had yielded to her first entreaties, and let her go without inquiry.
She knew not then of the further escape from the royal harem which
Fazil had secured; but as it was, gratitude to him had already become
the main feeling of her life. Of her parents' death she had no doubt
whatever now. The other members of the family would have claimed the
property and cast her off. Widow and priestess combined, she would
have been helpless against the insult and profligacy of men of her own
faith, and now she was at least safe. She was grateful, therefore, and,
for the most part, happy too.
But often, as she wept bitterly under the old memories of an innocent
and happy home, the loving arms of her mother seemed clasped about her
once more, and her caresses almost palpably felt, while the glistening
eyes of the goddess appeared to follow her, sleeping and waking, with
a reproachful look of desertion. In these moments, Tara endured bitter
grief; but ever at hand were the gentle remonstrances of her new mother
and sister, and to them also were joined those of her deliverer which,
in the constant association which grew out of a camp life, she felt
becoming more and more powerful day by day.