"Why didst thou not smite him to the ground and I would have
given thee ten shekels of silver?"
_2 Samuel_ xviii. 11.
Jahangir was on his feet instantly. Sher Afghan should not escape him
now unless the gods fought against him.
"To me!" he yelled. "Spare not! Every man shall have a golden
_tauq_!"[B]
[Footnote B: Collar or circlet.]
The elephant struggled to rise, but failed. He was dazed by his terrific
impact against the solid gateway. Sher Afghan leaped from the _howdah_
and rushed joyously to meet his frenzied antagonist. Perhaps the fate of
India would have been settled then and there for many a year had not the
mob of horsemen, unable to stay their disorderly pursuit, swept between
the rivals. Many of the _sowars_ were thrown by crashing into the
immovable bulk of the squealing beast in the roadway: most of the others
either reined in, expecting to encounter a fresh foe, or were carried
past the gate.
Walter, in whom the fire of battle had extinguished the dictates of
prudence, whipped out his sword, faced the enraged Prince, and engaged
him in rapid play. The curved scimitar of the East had no chance against
the straight English blade, wielded as it was by one versed in the art
of European swordsmanship. Jahangir was disarmed, his wrist nearly
broken when he would have drawn a dagger, and Mowbray, closing
fearlessly, pinned him against the base of the wall. His infuriated
adversary was no puny youth, but Walter was now at his best. He tripped
Jahangir, got him down, and gripped him by the throat, saying:--
"Yield, fool, and lie quiet. If Sher Afghan finds thee he will slay thee
without mercy."
In the road a remarkable change had taken place. The elephant's assault
had dislodged a long and heavy iron bar which served to prop the door
from within. Sainton, alert as a fox in an emergency, saw it lying
amidst the ruins. Any ordinary man would find it a difficult thing to
lift, but Roger, sheathing his sword, picked it up and used it with both
hands as a quarter staff. He leaped back into the melee and made
onslaught with this fearsome weapon on men and horses alike. In the
press, the Prince's retainers could not use their arrows, and their
cumbrous matchlocks, once discharged, could not be reloaded readily. As
for their swords and short lances, of what avail were such bodkins
against this raging giant, mowing down all comers with a ten-foot bar of
iron? Who could withstand him? Those who escaped him fled, and the clash
of steel beyond the circle of light told that Sher Afghan's followers,
though dispersed by the first unexpected charge, had rallied and were
coming to the assistance of their chief.
Sainton, who thoroughly enjoyed the fight, ceased his exertions when he
saw Sher Afghan helping Nur Mahal to alight from the _howdah_. A crowd
of guests and armed vassals, attracted by the noise of the conflict, had
run from the house, and the obedience rendered to the Persian's orders
by a fresh batch of horsemen advancing out of the darkness showed that
the assailants had been completely routed.
But some remained. Six horses and more than twenty men were prone in the
dust, and few of them moved, for that terrible bar had touched naught
that it did not break. The fallen elephant blocked the gate and the big
Yorkshireman held the road. None could come out from the garden save by
a wicket, and neither friend nor foe dared to approach within striking
distance of Roger.
Sher Afghan, who had not earned his name, "Slayer of Lions," by
bragging, glanced at the tumbled heap which surrounded Sainton and
cried:--
"May Allah bear witness this night that thou hast saved my life, friend
from beyond the seas. I did well to help thee, and nobly hast thou
repaid my service. But where is thy brother? I trust he has come to no
harm."
"When last I saw him he was instructing Prince Jahangir in the art of
fence," said Roger, stooping to recover his hat which had fallen.
"Ha, sayest thou? Would that I had given the lesson in his stead!
Search for him, I pray you, whilst I conduct this lady to her father."
Nur Mahal, who stood near, seemed to be in a somewhat subdued mood.
There was a new note in her voice as she murmured:--
"Heed me not, my Lord, but look for the stranger. My heart misgives me
as to his fate."
Sher Afghan gave her a quick glance, clearing his eyes in wonderment.
Before he could reply the girl darted forward.
"See, here he comes, and with him a prisoner. For my sake, if for none
other, let there be no further bloodshed!"
The appeal was timely. Walter, holding Jahangir, whom he had purposely
kept in the background until the turmoil had subsided, now advanced. But
the spirit of the combat had not wholly left him. When Sher Afghan
sprang forward, eager to renew a duel interrupted by the downfall of the
elephant, his sword barred the way.
"Not so," he cried determinedly. "The Prince is unarmed and my hostage.
Moreover, I cannot see why two such gallant gentlemen should fight over
a worthless woman. Whilst you were defending her and yourself, Sher
Afghan, her dagger was raised to strike you dead."
The Persian stood as though he had been stabbed indeed. He bent a
piteous glance on his wife.
"Is it true," he asked brokenly, "that you would have done this thing?"
She shrank from him.
"You forced me to wed you," she protested. "I did not love you."
Plucking a dagger from his belt he offered it to her.
"I dreamed to conquer the fickle heart of a woman," he said. "If you
were minded to end your woes by my death, here is my unprotected breast.
Kill me! It is my desire. Better that than an assassin's blow at the
hands of the woman I love."
She burst into a passion of tears and fell to her knees.
"Forgive me, my Lord," she sobbed; and her grief was music in Sher
Afghan's ears. If, indeed, his wife regretted her attitude he could
afford to be magnanimous. Throwing sword and dagger to the ground he
bowed to Jahangir.
"Your Highness has been misled by idle tongues," he said. "Tidings of
this brawl will reach the Emperor as fast as men can ride. Let you and
me hasten to his presence and together seek his clemency."
It was a proposal which could only emanate from a chivalrous soul, but
Jahangir was too enraged by his defeat, too embittered by Nur Mahal's
apparent submission, to avail himself of it.
"I neither plead nor make excuse," he said. "Go you in peace with your
bride. I call Allah to witness that I have been misled by none save Nur
Mahal herself. My followers have fled, though I am glad to see some of
the hare-livered dogs cumber the ground. Give me a horse and I shall
ride alone, if your foreign ally grants my liberty."
The lowering anger in his closely set eyes, the quivering lips which
scarce could form the words, showed that Jahangir was not only keenly
resentful of his plight but that he scorned Nur Mahal for her meekness.
The appearance of the Diwan, agitated and faltering in his steps, put an
end to a scene which at any moment might have assumed a new phase of
violence. The aged statesman, when his first alarm was sped, thought
more of the morrow than of the present excitement. He bade Sher Afghan
undertake the interrupted journey in a litter as soon as his wounds were
bound, and he despatched Jahangir to the fort with a strong guard of his
own servants.
By this time the dazed elephant had yielded to the curses and
endearments of the _mahout_. He rose ponderously, and marched across the
ruins of the gate to his stable.
For some reason the Diwan would not allow Mowbray and Sainton to return
to the caravansary. He may have feared for their safety, or perhaps he
found comfort in the thought that Roger, mighty man of war, slept under
his roof.
Before setting out a second time Sher Afghan came to the chamber
allotted to them. He threw around Roger's neck a magnificent gold chain
studded with turquoises.
"Let me gild the bond of steel which rivets our friendship," he said.
To Walter he handed a dagger, with a handle so encrusted with diamonds
that it blazed in the light of a lamp like a single huge stone.
"It is worthy of the hand of my friend and the heart of my enemy," he
cried, nor would he harken to their protests, but hurried away to the
waiting litter and Nur Mahal.
"How read you the riddle of this night's doings?" asked Roger, when they
were alone once more.
"There is no riddle. 'Tis nothing new in history for a woman to plot for
a throne."
"But the wench blew hot and cold. One minute she was for striking her
husband dead and the next she was tame as a pet lamb."
"There you have me. I am only sorry that a brave man like Sher Afghan
should be enamored of such a siren."
"By the cross of Osmotherly, Walter, I came to think I ken more than you
of the ways of women. Now, mark me, she is a hoyden of some spirit. When
the Prince would have reaved her she was willing enough, and tempted to
aid him withal. But when the fight started, she hung back, like a doe
watching two contending stags. Her husband was the better man and the
greater gentleman, and he did more to win her by a five minutes'
contention than by a month's wooing."
"You are right, Roger, but you had most to say in that respect. Now, let
us rest. Jahangir was no mean antagonist. He struggled like a bull when
I had him on the ground. I am weary."
They slept late, and, when they had dressed and eaten, were at a loss
whether to go or stay, as the Diwan had hastened to the palace soon
after daybreak. But their doubts were quickly resolved. A mounted
messenger from the Diwan bade them bring their packs with all speed to
the fort. The Emperor had laughed when told that his heir was lying abed
with sore bones, and gave imperative orders that the bazaar should take
place as arranged.
The man told them that the fair was the _Khus-roz_, or "Day of
Pleasure," and the scene in the garden of the zenana, when Mowbray and
Sainton had hurried their train thither, showed that the festival was
not misnamed. Not only the ladies of the court, but the wives and
daughters of the chief nobles, occupied the stalls, and, while Walter
was busily superintending the unpacking of his bales, he heard the
Emperor himself chaffering like an old wife about the value of a penny.
He was bargaining shrewdly with a beautiful Kashmiri, and receiving as
good as he gave.
"What do you know of merchandise?" she cried. "You may be a good king,
but certainly you are a poor trader."
"And you are selling inferior silk by your pretty face, just as a fine
rind may cover a bad apple," he retorted.
"If your Majesty can only admire my face," said she, "I fear you must go
where you will be better served."
"Ohe, here is a prude! Come, accept my price and let me take my
compliments elsewhere."
"And what shall I say when I render short account to the Sultana?"
"Tell her that the King thought you ill-looking, so he showed you no
favor."
"Your Majesty is reputed a better judge of women's nature. Then, indeed,
the Sultana would regard me curiously."
"Oh, go to! You are vain as a peacock. Here, not a pice more!"
He threw down some copper coins, and affected to drop a number of gold
pieces by accident. The lady promptly covered them with a fold of her
_sari_, and Akbar strolled away to another stall. Among the money she
found a rare pearl, and the gift of a jewel was a signal sign of royal
favor.
"They tell me an elephant broke loose outside the Diwan's house last
night," said Akbar, stopping in front of Walter and eying him keenly.
"For a little while I fancied it was a whole menagerie, your Majesty,"
was the quick answer.
"So. And this other elephant, the Hathi-sahib, made a pen for the
beasts?"
"Assuredly they found him occupation for a time."
"'Tis well. I am sorry I did not see him at work. Meanwhile, you shall
not lose trade because young blood grows hot. What is the value of your
wares?"
"A lakh and a half, your Majesty."
"Bones of my father! They must have told you that 'Akbar' meant 'a mint'
in your language."
"The meaning of your Majesty's name is known far beyond the confines of
your kingdom."
"Ha! Thy tongue is glib! And what is my repute with your King?"
"I have been told that he regards your Majesty with great respect, which
is saying much, as he is held by many to be a very Solomon."
"Aye, the wisest fool in Christendom," broke in Sainton, in English.
Mowbray smiled and Akbar cried eagerly:--
"What sayeth the Hathi?"
The translation, which Walter rendered accurately, made him laugh
heartily.
"I doubt not thou hast an apt phrase to describe me when my back is
turned," he said to Roger.
"If your Majesty leaves behind you the lakh and a half demanded by my
partner I shall at least say that which is true."
"And what will it be?"
"That none but a royal bird could cast such feathers."
"Bismillah! Aught but that! The four winds would blow hither every knave
in India, for they will read it that none but a royal goose could lay
such eggs."
Of course the imperial quip was much applauded by those who stood near,
and Akbar was so pleased with his own wit that he called for pen and
paper and commanded an attendant to write an order on the Treasury for
the amount named, for, strange to say, this far-seeing and intelligent
monarch was quite illiterate. He could scarcely read, and his signature
was a mere scrawl. Nevertheless, his hieroglyphics covered, in this
instance, a considerable sum, its English equivalent being L15,000.
Seeing that the cost and transport of their goods amounted to only
one-third of the sale price, both Mowbray and Sainton had the best of
reasons to rejoice at this rapid change in their fortunes.
But Akbar knew the value of money as well as the poorest of his
subjects. Turning to a corpulent nawab who had laughed loudest at his
joke, he said:--
"Now, Agah Khan, thou shalt see that I am as ready a seller as a buyer.
Look at this roll of Persian silk. Think of the joy it will cause in thy
household. Is it not cheap at two hundred gold mohurs, or shall we say
two-fifty, as thou wouldst not care to rob a man who scarce knew the
value of his commodities."
Agah Khan, not at all elated by this twist of the royal humor, hastened
to say that two hundred and fifty was the true price, at which figure he
would certainly purchase it. He knew Akbar. Had he hesitated the figure
would have risen by hundreds a minute.
"Nay, be not so shy, Nur-ud-din," called out the Emperor after one who
affected an interest in another stall. "Here be spices of Gondar that
shall make thee eat until the mirror reveals one twice thy size. What
shall it be?"
"Fifty, O King of Kings," was the quick response.
"Fifty! When each grain doth season a meal! A hundred at the least!"
"Be it so, shadow of Allah on earth!" said Nur-uddin; yet he looked so
dismal, for he was a reputed skinflint, that Akbar smiled grimly, and
there was discreet mirth even among those who dreaded their own dealing
with this masterful salesman.
"Gad!" whispered Sainton to Walter, "I begin to catch the drift of the
King's bargain. He hath a nice wit."
In half an hour Akbar had sold three fourths of their stock and retained
the best quarter for nothing. They, all aglow with pleasure at this
successful close of their venture, watched the proceedings in patience
until the Emperor approached them again.
"It grieves me that affairs in the Dekkan will detain me to-day," he
said, looking fixedly at Walter. "Visit the Treasury to-morrow, come
hither at the hour fixed for this evening, and then journey with all
speed and good fortune back to Surat."
Now, Walter read a hint into the words. He bowed deeply, assuring the
Emperor that he would obey his commands to the letter. Then, Akbar
having gone, he and Roger went on their way with light hearts.
In a land where intrigue was rife, the signal favor shown by the Emperor
to the two strangers was in every man's mouth. This was clear from the
respect paid to them as they rode forth from the palace. Each menial
salaamed, and officials who had surveyed them with hauteur during their
first visit now rendered obsequious attention.
They were yet some little distance from the bazaar when two richly clad
nobles, mounted on fine Turkoman Arabs, overtook them, drew rein and
entered into conversation.
At first, Walter answered their courteous inquiries unguardedly, but a
question anent the previous night's escapade revealed a hidden motive.
He described the affair jestingly, robbing it of serious import.
"Nay, friend," said one, the elder of the pair, "we heard Akbar's words.
Prince Jahangir, a profligate and a drunkard, hath grieved him by his
excesses. Had the edge of thy sword fallen on Jahangir's neck, instead
of the flat blade on his wrist, there would have been little harm done."
"A bold speech from one whom I know not."
"Would that a bold action by one whom we know not had rid the land of a
pest!"
Amazed and somewhat disturbed by this outspoken declaration, Mowbray
wheeled his horse squarely towards the speaker.
"I would have you realize that my companion and I are traders. We have
no concern with the court beyond the sale of our goods," he said
sternly.
"Traders should not have enemies in high places."
"We have none."
"Why, then, is one of the foreign preachers closeted with Jahangir since
the ninth hour? Why hath this same preacher spread the rumor in the
bazaar that you are spies, emissaries of a king beyond the black water
who is sending armed ships to prey on our territories in the west?"
Here was unpleasant news, indeed. Mowbray must have looked his
annoyance, because the other continued eagerly:--
"This black gown hath established too great an influence over Jahangir.
Were he dead, and his brother Khusrow recognized as heir, all would be
well, and the store thou hast made to-day would be quadrupled."
"To whom do I speak?"
"I fear not to give my name. I am Raja Man Singh, and this other is the
chief of Bikanir."
"Why do you tell me these things?" said Walter, sorely troubled, for the
men were grandees of high position.
"Because, in God's name, if Jahangir comes in front of thy sword again,
plunge it into him."
Roger, who gathered the drift if not the exact significance of the talk,
broke in in English:--
"If they're athirst for Jahangir's blood, Walter, bid them slit his
weazand themselves."
They evidently read his ejaculation as hostile to the Prince, for he
from Bikanir murmured:--
"Good! The Hathi hath trumpeted."
Now, Roger did not like the nickname given him by Akbar. He stretched
out a huge fist toward the Rajput and roared:--
"I kill only in fair fight. Beware lest the slaying be done now, when,
perchance, we may win not only the Emperor's approval, but that of his
eldest son."
His attitude surprised them, but they showed no fear. Raja Man Singh
said coldly:--
"I have spoken. Many hours may not pass before you feel that my words
were not uttered without cause."
He spurred his horse, and the other followed him in a sharp canter. They
soon vanished in the distance.
The incident, perplexing though it was, would not have troubled them
greatly save for the reference to Dom Geronimo. Here was one whose
rancor was implacable, his spleen being probably augmented by their
presence in the Mogul capital and the notable success they had attained.
When they recalled the Emperor's advice as to their departure they saw
that there were dangerous undercurrents in existence which might swamp
the argosy of their fortunes if they did not conduct their affairs with
exceeding discretion.
Hence, they hailed with joy the invitation from the Diwan to make his
house their own during further residence in Agra. In the caravansary
they were surrounded by strangers who might be in anyone's pay. In the
Garden of Heart's Delight they were, at least, under the protection of
an influential minister, whose abode even Prince Jahangir was compelled
to respect, else he would not have resorted to the ambuscade of the
previous night.
But the blind god, having tossed them towards the smooth haven of
prosperity, blew them back into a storm with malignant caprice. That
night, the Diwan died suddenly, poisoned said some, while others held
that his end was hastened by the turmoil attending Nur Mahal's marriage.
Application to the Treasury for payment of their order was futile. They
were assured, civilly enough, that no money could be disbursed until a
new Diwan was appointed, and, when they kept the appointment fixed by
Akbar, they were told that the Emperor, overwhelmed with grief at the
death of his favorite minister, added to the news of the illness of one
of his sons, Danial, at Burhampur, was secluded in his private
apartments.
Day after day they waited, devising many schemes to secure their money
and leave a city they would gladly see the last of. They lived in the
Diwan's house. None interfered with them, and the place itself was an
earthly Paradise wherein they would be well content if other matters had
progressed to their liking. The warning given by Raja Man Singh had no
justification in fact. Jahangir had apparently forgotten their
existence, while Dom Geronimo gave no sign that he concerned himself in
any way about them.
Walter not only visited the palace daily, but wrote letters, none of
which received an answer. At last the truth could no longer be hidden.
Akbar, who had reigned over India fifty-one years, was stricken down
with paralysis. In the words of the chronicler, "His Majesty, finding
that his last moments had come, summoned all his Omerahs to his bedside.
Wistfully regarding them, he asked forgiveness of any offense he might
have been guilty towards any of them. Then he gave them a sign to invest
his son, Jahangir, with his turban and robes, and to gird him with his
favorite simitar. He entreated Jahangir to be kind to the ladies of the
family, to discharge all his (Akbar's) obligations, and never to neglect
or forsake old friends and dependents. The grandees prostrated
themselves before their dying lord and did him homage. The King repeated
the confession of faith, closed his eyes, and died in all the forms of a
pious Musalman."
The worthy scribe no doubt intended his concluding sentence to dispel,
once and for all, the rumor which found credence with many that Akbar
had a decided leaning towards Christianity. However that may be, the
tidings of his death sounded the knell of the adventurers' hopes. Not
only had they lost the fortune within their grasp, but they and their
Surat partner were ruined.
Walter's dream of gaining a competence and sailing speedily to England
and Nellie Roe was shattered. In his despair he debated with Roger the
advisability of quitting Agra secretly, and journeying towards Calcutta
by river.
But Roger swore, with quaint oaths, that he would beard Jahangir in his
palace and shame him before all his nobles if he did not fulfil Akbar's
behest. Matters were in this desperate plight when a royal messenger was
announced.
Wondering greatly what new development fickle fate had in store they
admitted the man. He salaamed with much ceremony and said:--
"My master, the Emperor Jahangir, second Sahib-i-Qiran,[C] bids the
illustrious strangers wait on him to-morrow after he appears at the
jharoka (window) to receive the blessings of his subjects."
[Footnote C: Literally, "Born under favoring planets," a title conferred
by historians on Taimur, and assumed by Jahangir.]
Here was the unexpected happening in very truth. Had Kingship made
Jahangir a King? Would he rise superior to petty considerations and
treat them with justice? Who could tell? As Roger said:--
"We mun eat a good breakfast, buckle on our swords, and trust in
Providence."