The letter despatched by the Rajah Sivaji, as we have recorded, was
received in a few days by the Khan, and its tenor was not doubted.
There was nothing in it which could in any degree disturb the Khan's
complacency, or awaken suspicion. If he chafed at the idea of a
bloodless campaign, and his friend the Peer, in the ardour of his
bigotry, sighed at what now promised to be a tame conclusion to an
exciting commencement,--Fazil, on the other hand, and with him the
commander of the Mahratta contingent in camp, and others who had more
sympathy with the people of the country than their elders, rejoiced
that it was to be so; and that a valuable ally and confederate was to
be secured to the dynasty which they served, by means which appeared at
once just, merciful, and binding upon both.
The new Envoy who brought the letter, pleased the Khan and the Peer
extremely. In the first place, he spoke the Dekhan court language
fluently, and was a fair Persian scholar. He was known to the Khan as
having served in a subordinate department when he himself held the
administration of Wye, and he gratefully acknowledged--as he reminded
the Khan of--former benefits. The first envoys could not communicate
with the Khan except through interpreters. True, his son was usually
present, or occasionally the holy priest himself, who might be induced
to assist; but the Khan would have better liked to manage these
Mahratta envoys himself, and now there was the desired opportunity. Day
after day, as the army advanced without check, by easy but continuous
stages, the new agent was in close attendance, and very frequently,
with the others, was summoned to private conferences. Fazil, too, had
his share in them, and to every outward appearance no room existed for
suspicion of any kind.
They had now entered the Rajah's own jurisdiction, and were treated
more as honoured guests than as an invading army. Supplies were
provided at every stage, forage was abundant, difficult places in the
roads were found cleared for the artillery, and the people met them
with goodwill and courtesy, which was as pleasant as unexpected. Any
idea of resistance was out of the question. The usual village guards,
or here and there a few horsemen in attendance on a local functionary,
were all that was seen of the Rajah's forces; and the Khan was amused
and gratified with the Envoy's descriptions of how--to attract
attention to his affairs--his master had caused the belief to gain
ground that he was possessed of an army of vast power.
In short, all the obstructions and dangers which had appeared so great
at a distance had passed away; and as the Khan led his troops more and
more deeply into the mountainous district, he could not but feel that
if they had been opposed in those rugged defiles, the struggle would
have been difficult as well as desperate. The enemy would have had a
stronger country to retreat upon, and one more easily defended, while,
in proportion, the advance to him would have been beset with peril
which could hardly be estimated.
Very frequently Fazil asked particulars of the fort of Pertâbgurh
from Bulwunt Rao, who described it clearly enough,--an ordinary hill
fort, with a garrison strong for local purposes, but, after all, only
such as Mahratta chiefs and gentry kept about them; strong in their
own position, but helpless for offence. Where, then, were the armies
which Sivaji was said to possess? Bulwunt Rao, in reply, pointed to the
village people, all soldiers, he said, from their youth, and accustomed
to arms: but among them there was no symptom of excitement, nor could
Bulwunt Rao, suspecting nothing himself, discover any cause for alarm:
and so they proceeded.
Meanwhile, the programme of a meeting had been arranged by the
agents between the Khan and Sivaji. Both parties had mooted points
of etiquette, which could hardly be overcome. The Rajah, as a
prince, could not visit the Khan first, nor could Afzool Khan, as
the representative of royalty, visit the Rajah; but they could both
meet, and the barrier of ceremony once broken, it mattered little what
followed. No troops were to be present. Attended each by a single armed
follower, the place of meeting was fixed on a level spot at some little
distance up the mountain of Pertâbgurh, where the Rajah, the Envoy
said, had already prepared a pavilion, which would be fitted up for
the occasion. If the Khan pleased, he might bring a thousand of his
best horse--more, if convenient--to witness the ceremony from below;
but only one attendant besides the palankeen-bearers could advance to
the conference. Nothing was to be written, and the agent already at
the fort would attend the Khan on the one hand, while another of the
Rajah's, if possible or needful, would accompany him from above. No
objection appeared, and none was made, to these arrangements.
So the army reached its final stage near the village of Jowly, a few
miles distant from the fort; and the last preparations were made that
night by both parties. The morning would see the Khan set out early
accompanied by fifteen hundred chosen horse--some Abyssinian, some
Dekhani, others his own retainers,--all picked men; while the remainder
of the army should rest from its labour and exertion, which, on account
of the rough mountain roads, had been exceedingly great for the last
three days.
At Jowly, too, the camp was more than ordinarily pleasant. A plain
of some extent, and which for the most part was under cultivation,
afforded ample room for all the force. The grassy slopes of the
mountains, by which the plain was surrounded, furnished abundant
supplies of forage; a brawling stream ran under the hills on one side,
and the Rajah's usual supplies of food of all kinds were abundant at
moderate prices in a bazar which, consisting of rough sheds and small
tents, was located near the village on the other.
Let us see how the night was passed by both parties.
The Khan's tents had been pitched on an even sward which bordered the
rivulet, and several fine trees were included in the area enclosed by
the canvas walls. Under the shade of these, Zyna and Fazil had sat most
part of the day. A few carpets and pillows had been spread there, and
the cool fresh mountain air, the brawling murmur of the brook, and the
grand and beautiful scenery by which they were surrounded, so different
to the bare monotonous undulations of the Dekhan, were in themselves
more exciting than it was possible for them to have imagined from any
previous description. But the loss of Tara's society was pressing
heavily upon both. All they heard daily was, that she was well and
among her people, who were taking care of her. She would remain with
them at Wye; and as the army returned, she should see Lurlee Khánum and
Zyna once more, and take leave of them, for she could not be permitted
to sojourn with Mahomedans. This the Envoy had told the Khan and Fazil
the day before.
It was a dreary prospect for Fazil, and apparently a hopeless one.
Should he ever see that sweet face more? ever hear the music of the
gentle voice, at once so timid and yet so reliant? There was no hope
that the Brahmuns among whom she had fallen would now give her up
voluntarily. It was impossible to think it. Did they know what he had
asked and she had half-promised?--would her life be safe even if they
did? Hardly so, indeed; or, if safe, would be spared at the price of
the disfigurement which awaited her, according to the strict rules of
her faith. What they had arranged among themselves, therefore, could
not be openly prosecuted; and, in defiance of his father's cautions,
and the apparently smooth progress of public affairs, no effort to
demand her, or to recover her by force, could be made as yet.
"Let us settle everything with this Mahratta first, and as we return
by Wye, we will have the girl, or know why," the stout old Khan used
to say; for he had grown to love Tara very dearly, and missed her
presence, though in a different manner, as much as any of them. "Fear
not, Fazil, the Kafirs shall not possess her."
So Zyna and Fazil had sat most part of the day, revolving over and
over again how best Tara might be assisted or rescued, while blaming
themselves a thousand times for that neglect of special precautions for
her safety which had resulted in her abduction.
"If only Moro Trimmul could be found, and brought once more to
account," Fazil said, grinding his teeth, "it would go hard with him;"
but he was not to be heard of. The Envoys in camp declared he had at
once proceeded to Pertâbgurh to clear himself to the Rajah Sivaji and
the lady mother, of whom, in particular, he was an especial favourite;
but he was not now even there: he had been sent to a distance; where or
why it was not known; and it was impossible to trace him. Bulwunt Rao,
Lukshmun, and the lad Ashruf, had all been employed in turn as spies,
but had failed to discover him--he was not to be heard of.
It was now late, and the lady Lurlee came and joined them before the
evening prayer. She had been busy after her own fashion, and as the
priest and some others were to dine with the Khan, had prepared several
of her most scientific dishes. She had no doubt as to the issue of the
morrow's interview. In the first place, who could resist her husband?
and were not the planets unusually favourable? She and the priest
had compared notes from behind the screen in the tent; and though he
laughed at the curious jargon she had collected on the subject, yet,
a steadfast believer in astrology himself, had explained to her how
peculiarly fortunate the conjunction was to be at the hour cast for the
meeting, and she had fully believed it. If Tara had been there, all
would have been perfectly happy; but, as Lurlee said, the planets told
her it was only, after all, a matter of a few days' delay; and, indeed,
perhaps, after to-morrow she might be demanded.
Fazil, however, in spite of these assurances, was not easy; and after
he left the tents for the evening prayer, had taken counsel with
Lukshmun who, in regard to Tara, had taken the place of Bulwunt Rao,
to whom Fazil dare not intrust his secret. The day she had disappeared,
and Fazil's misery was apparent, the hunchback had divined the cause;
and a few inquiries in his capacity of spy had confirmed his suspicions.
"I know but of one thing to do, master," he said, as the young man
confided to him his dread of violence to the girl--"send me back to
Wye, where she is; give me but ever so small a note, and I will deliver
it into her own hand; and if I can bring her away, trust to me to do
so. I can traverse these forests and mountains by night; I can hide her
away or disguise her; and if she be true to thee, she will come. Give
me the boy Ashruf, and a little money, and let us go, even now. He is
without; call him."
"Ashruf," cried the young Khan to the lad, who was standing near the
tent door, and who entered at once; "wilt thou go with Lukshmun?"
"My lord," replied the lad, "he and I have arranged this already. They
do not know us here, and he has been teaching me a Mahratta ballad
which she knows, and we can sing it in Wye to-morrow. If he had not
spoken I should have told you of our plan. My lord, we will bring her
away silently, and no one shall be the wiser. Yes, I will go into the
fire for my lord, if he will but prove me."
"And Bulwunt Rao?" said Fazil.
"He is in the clouds," replied Lukshmun, "in the hope of getting
back the family estate; wind has got into his head, and he is beside
himself. To my mind, the Rajah would be far better pleased to have him
put out of the way than to favour his pretensions; but Bulwunt says he
has been promised 'justice;' and so," added Lukshmun, with a hideous
grimace, "he will have his own way, and what is to be is to be; only
write the note, master, quick, and let us go; he won't help us."
"Alas!" replied Fazil, "I can only write Persian; but she knows
my signature, for she used to see me write it. Stay, however," he
continued, unfastening a thin gold ring from his wrist, "she will
remember this better, and understand it: take it with ye, and may God
speed ye. Go at once! Bring her, if possible, or mark where she is, and
we will go, Inshalla! and fetch her."
The priest was chanting the Azân, and Fazil passed out into the usual
place of prayer, which was numerously attended. After its close, the
Peer, his father, and all who were to stay to dinner, assembled for the
repast, which was served immediately. There was no forward movement
of tents that night; and the guests sat till a late hour discussing
the probable events of the morrow, and the possibility of an early
countermarch, at least as far as Wye, where the open country was
preferable to their present confined situation among the mountains.