After a while, they heard the sound of drums and cymbals, and of the
rude Mahratta pipes, advancing up the street, playing a wailing,
mournful air, and the musicians stopped at the door of the outer court.
The people within fell back, and made a lane of egress, and Tara rose
and came forth from the bower. Once she prostrated herself before
her father and mother, and those with her saw a shiver--whether of
grief, despair, or terror, who could say--pass through her body; but
she recovered herself quickly, and as she stood on the upper step of
the basement, she asked for flowers, and, throwing handfuls among the
crowd, descended the steps into the court.
Then slowly on through the people, who worshipped her as she passed;
and out of the court into the street, where an open litter, such a
one as she had sat in when they made her a priestess of the temple
at Tooljapoor, awaited her. Carried in this, as in a triumphant
procession, and with baskets full of flowers before her, she threw them
among the crowd. As she proceeded through the streets, shouts from the
people around her, and from those on house-tops, trees, and terraces,
were redoubled; many women shrieked, and most prayed aloud for the
Sutee. The clash of the music increased, and the march played was
one of victory; while companies of Brahmuns, bare-headed, joined the
procession, singing and chanting the hymns of death. So, on through the
town, past the holy temples, and into the river bed, where thousands
awaited her, and set up a hoarse shouting as they saw her first. What
was the first honour of life as a priestess, to this glory of its death?
She reached the pile, now covered with fluttering pennons, and
streamers,--orange, white, and crimson,--and thousands of garlands,
which the people had hung or thrown upon it as votive offerings since
the morning,--and the litter was set down for her to alight. It was
with difficulty the crowd was kept back so as to form a space round the
pile which would admit of her passing in procession; but it was cleared
at last by the Brahmuns, and the people hung back awestruck and staring
at the beauty of the victim.
Tara looked at the pile; but there was that strange ecstasy glowing
in her eyes which appeared to have rendered her unconscious of its
purport, or of all else about her. Sometimes she cast up her eyes with
a strange bright smile, and nodded as if she were saying, as perhaps
she did, "I come, I come." Again she looked round her dreamily. The
roar of the people's voices, the clash of cymbals, the shrill screams
of the pipes and horns, the hoarse braying of trumpets, and the
continuous beating of deep-toned drums, were around her, drowning the
sound of words, and the bitter sobs and low shrieks of her mother and
Radha at her side. Her father's spirit seemed to have risen to the need
of the occasion, for he stood near her joining the solemn chant, which
blended with, and softened, the rude music.
As she stood, the Brahmuns worshipped her, and poured libations before
her and on her feet, touched her forehead with sacred colour, and put
fresh garlands over her neck. Then the last procession was formed,
in which she would walk round the pile thrice, and ascend it, as her
last act of ceremonial observance. Now, and before she had to take off
her ornaments, she turned her full gaze on it, and they thought, who
were watching her, that she seemed to comprehend its purpose. A huge
platform of logs, black with oil and grease that had been poured upon
them, strewed with camphor and frankincense, which had been scattered
lavishly by the people in their votive offerings, and smeared with red
powder. A rude step had been made for Tara to ascend by, and on the
summit some bright cloths were laid as a bed, where she might recline,
upon which a small effigy of a man, rudely conceived and dressed, had
been placed. Her marriage-bed in the spiritual sense of the sacrifice,
on which, through fire, she would be united to her husband. The whole
was garish, hideous, and cruel. Face to face with death so horrible, so
imminent, the girl seemed to shiver and gasp suddenly, and sank down
swooning.
Vishnu Pundit, and another old Brahmun, raised her up. "It must not
be," they said to each other in a whisper; "she must not fail now, else
shame will come upon us."
Moro Trimmul was near her also, and had been one to seize her
mechanically as she was falling. To him the scene was like some mocking
phantasy, which held him enthralled, while it urged him to action.
Since he had murdered Gunga, his evil spirit had known no rest; no
sleep had come to him, except in snatches more horrible than the
reality of waking. Again and again he had felt the rush of the girl's
warm blood upon his hands, and the senseless body falling from his arms
into the black void of air, to be no more seen or heard of--and had
started up in abject fear. Day or night, it was the same;--the short
struggle, the frantic efforts of the girl for life, his own maddened
exertions to destroy her, were being acted over and over again. Every
moment of his life was full of them; and nothing else, do what he
might, go where he would, came instead. He had eaten opium in large
quantities, but it only made the reality of this hideous vision more
palpable, and exaggerated all its details. He had busied himself deeply
in the arrangements consequent upon the victory and the distribution of
plunder, but with no effect. Haunted by Gunga's murder on the one hand,
by Tara's determination to die as Sutee on the other, the remonstrances
of Maloosray and other friends only irritated him the more. They had
endeavoured to restrain him from going to Wye to see her burned, but
with no result--he had broken from them, and ridden over alone that
morning.
Soon after he arrived, he heard that Vyas Shastree and his sister were
already there, and he had sought her, and in his former desperate
manner, threatened and persuaded in turn. It might be that, having
experience of these threats, Radha no longer feared them, or that the
position she now occupied was so utterly hopeless as regarded Tara,
that even he must see that it was useless to persecute her further.
As a last resource, he had proposed to some of his own men, desperate
and licentious as himself, to attack the procession, and carry Tara
away; but, hardened as they were, the sacrilege of violently abducting
a Sutee, was an impossible crime against their faith, and his proposal
had been rejected.
He was there, therefore, alone. He had bathed and performed the needful
ceremonies with the other Brahmuns, and the thought that he should at
least see Tara die, came, for the time, like sweet revenge into his
heart, feeding his evil passions and sustaining them. Devils both, Tara
and Gunga, witches and sorceresses. What matter if both died horrible
deaths? it was the penalty of their crimes; and in such thoughts a
momentary consolation was offered by the mocking fiend at his heart, to
be whirled away to the chaos of despair, in which Gunga seemed writhing
in her blood, and Tara tossing her arms in the agony of the fire.
Thus he had walked with her, almost beside her, from the house, through
the streets, to the pile by the river-side. In the litter, surrounded
by chanting priests, she was unapproachable; but, sinking to the earth
helpless before him, she seemed once more fated to be his prey.
"Tara, Tara," he whispered quickly and sharply in her ear, as, helping
her to rise, he passed his arm under her. "Come, O beloved! save
thyself, even now--even now. I can do it. Come, O beloved!"
The words and his hot breath on her cheek roused the girl more
completely than aught else could have done. She did not speak, but she
arose, strong and defiant, and, shaking him off, pushed him away so
violently from her, that he staggered and fell backwards.
* * * * *
For some time past, a body of horsemen, with their faces tied up,
after the fashion of Mahratta cavaliers, the housings of their
horses weather-stained, and their arms rusty and unpolished, had
moved about the bed of the river and the bank beyond, and as the
procession advanced to the pile, pressed on nearer to the crowd. It
might be a hundred men or more; and the leader, who was a Mahratta,
spoke cheerfully to the people who addressed him, and told them of
his pursuit of the Mussulmans, and the raid they had done into the
Beejapoor country, from which they were only now returning in time to
see the show before they went home to the fort.
Our old friend Bulwunt Rao had become spokesman and ostensible leader;
and the hunchback rode with him, and bandied words with the bystanders
freely, but in good humour. With them, too, was Fazil Khan, who joined
heartily in the rough jokes which were passing--many, at his own
expense of ragged clothes, rusty arms, and gaunt features: and thus
the band pressed on to the very skirts of the crowd, as if to see
the Sutee, but actually to take up the position necessary for their
adventure. During the day they had passed several bodies of Mahratta
horse, but had been taken for a similar party, and had as yet been
unchallenged; and in the crowd, their bold confident demeanour, and
the ready replies given to all questions, with the certainty among the
people that every Moslem soldier had perished at Pertâbgurh, or was a
prisoner, prevented any suspicion of their real character.
Bulwunt Rao had seen Sutee rites before. They had watched the
procession issue from the town, and he knew Tara would alight from
the litter when she arrived at the pile. As she did so--as the litter
was carried aside, and before the procession around the pile was
formed--they had determined to ride in upon the crowd and bear her
away. They had no fear of the result; there was not a doubt among them.
They knew that every horseman in the town would be present there,
unarmed and on foot, and that miles would be passed by them ere pursuit
could be made. Their old hiding-place was not known, and beyond was
open country; and if a long ride by night, what fear?--the horses were
fresh and well fed.
"Be ready, Meah," said Bulwunt Rao, in a low voice. "See, they are
clearing a space around the pile for her to walk. Holy Krishna! how
beautiful she is! 'Jey Kalee! Jey Toolja Máta!'" he shouted with the
crowd. Then turning to the hunchback, he bade him go round the rear of
the party and see they all kept together. "As one man, Lukshmun, when
they hear our shout, let them follow."
So they advanced nearer and nearer, and the crowd on foot, unable to
resist the pressure of the horses, gave way before them. The sword of
every man was loosened in its sheath, and a few of the rear men, who
had matchlocks with lighted matches slung over their backs, unslung
them, and held them on their saddlebows ready for use. If any one had
noticed Fazil Khan, they would have seen him smoothing a cushion, as
it were, of cloths upon the pommel of his saddle, while he wakened his
horse with an occasional touch of his leg, and kept him excited for a
sudden rush.
He moved up close to Bulwunt Rao. "If I fall, dear friend, in this," he
said, "tell them how it was, and take the men to them. Do not wait for
me; let them do with me as they list."
Bulwunt Rao smiled. "Fear not, Meah," he replied. "Ride thou in to her,
and trust to us for the rest."
Fazil's teeth were hard set, and his heart throbbed quick; but he was
calm and cool. It was no time for chance work, and there must not be
any mistake now. He felt his sword was loose in the sheath, and smiled
to himself. The men had orders not to strike unarmed people; but if
any resisted, there would be some revenge for Pertâbgurh he thought,
and, looking round, saw the rough faces of his followers in thick array
behind him, holding in their horses as though for a race.
They saw Tara alight. Fazil was not a stone's-throw distant, and
perhaps she might see him, but she did not. He was not in her thoughts
now; the agony of relinquishing him had passed from her in the despair
of life long ago. They saw her suddenly sink down, and Vishnu Pundit
and Moro Trimmul stoop to raise her up.
"Bismilla! Futteh-i-nubbee!" cried the young Khan, as, pressing his
horse's flanks, the animal bounded forward. "Bismilla, brothers, Ya
Alla! Ya Alla!"
"Ya Alla! Ya Alla!" shouted the rest behind, as they too gave their
horses the rein, and all dashed forward furiously.
Some men with poles and sticks struck at Fazil, Bulwunt, and Lukshmun,
as they came on first, but none there had arms. It was as Tara,
watching the effect of her effort against Moro Trimmul, stood apart,
with flashing eyes and heaving bosom--belonging for the moment to the
world she had abjured--that the hoarse shout of the horsemen fell upon
her ear. She looked at them for a moment; she saw people go down before
them, trampled, shrieking, under foot, and the weapons flashing in the
sunlight. Then two men stopped for an instant--she was between them:
both stooped towards her at the same moment, and one threw himself off
his horse, and lifted her to the other's saddle.
As it was done, a man sprang at Fazil's horse's bridle, with a frantic
execration, caught it, and jerked it violently. The noble beast, urged
on--for Fazil saw the danger--partly reared, but was held down by the
bridle; else it had fared ill perhaps with the young man--for Tara was
not sensible now, and he could only hold her up with difficulty--had
not Lukshmun been nigh.
"I never kill Brahmuns," he said through his teeth, "but thou art a
devil;" and he struck at Moro Trimmul's bare neck with all his force.
As the wretched man sank to the earth under the terrible wound, the
hunchback sprang to his horse, clambered upon it like a cat, and
flourishing his bloody sword, though he struck no one, rode by Fazil's
side onwards, unharmed.
No one opposed them; the action was too sudden and too desperate. The
crowd, also, was not so thick towards the river, and gave way before
them; and, dashing through the shallow ford, the horses throwing up
the bright water in a cloud of sparkling drops, they galloped up the
bank, and even then, were beyond pursuit. A few of the matchlock-men,
firing their pieces over the heads of the crowd beyond, shook them in
defiance, as they turned to ride after their party; and a few shots in
return, the balls of which sang shrilly in the air over their heads,
were fired after them by people in the throng with harmless effect.
It was long ere the party drew rein, and no one spoke. Tara lay easily,
supported on the cushion by Fazil's arms, and he watched anxiously
for signs of returning consciousness. It came at last, as he felt her
cling to him, and she looked up to his face, as they crossed a small
streamlet leisurely, with a pleading look which could not be mistaken.
"Ah, fear not," he said; "fear not, beloved! Thou art safe now; and
that hideous pageant is far behind. Didst thou think, Tara, I would
leave thee to die that frightful death without an effort?"
The beauteous eyes opened again, and closed softly as the tears welled
from them. The rapt glittering expression of religious enthusiasm had
passed away, and left the world coming back fast into them, with all
its tender interests and love, a thousandfold more powerful than before.
That night, another pile was lighted by the river-side, and a corpse,
never removed from the spot where it fell, was burned upon it; but the
pile of the Sutee remained, grim and black, and the garlands of flowers
had withered in the next day's sun ere it was dismantled.
There were a thousand rumours current in the town for some days as to
who could have done so bold a deed, but no one guessed the truth. Had
Moro Trimmul lived, he could have told; but he had never spoken after
the hunchback's sturdy death-blow. So the people believed that some
of the starving Beejapoor cavalry, wandering about, had determined to
attack the people collected for the Sutee, and plunder them of what
they could; and that the rich ornaments which the Sutee herself had
worn attracted their attention, and they had carried her off for them.
Some days afterwards, too, near a spot where the fugitives had rested
for a while, the remains of a young woman, so much torn by wild
beasts as to be unrecognizable, with some shreds of silken garments
about them, were found by the village people. It was clear that a
murder had been done, and the circumstances under which Tara had
disappeared, rendered it probable that these remains were hers. So
they were taken into Wye: and the miserable parents, believing them to
be their daughter's, had them burned by the river-side in all honour
and respect, and thenceforth believed her dead. They did not leave Wye
immediately. The excitement and fatigue had exhausted the Shastree,
who required rest; and the ceremonies consequent on Tara's death,
and necessary purification, occupied some days; so Vishnu Pundit's
persuasions prevailed, and they remained with him.