"Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety."
_Shakespeare_, "King Henry IV."
Jahangir received them in the Hall of Public Audience. If he wished to
inspire respect by a display of magnificence, his appearance and
surroundings were well calculated to achieve this purpose.
The fine building itself supplied a fitting shrine for regal splendor.
The Arabesque roof was borne on Byzantine arches, which gave free access
on three sides from a delightful parterre. It was closed on the north,
as here it rested against the higher ground which contained the private
apartments. A raised marble canopy stood out from the center of the
built-in side, the floor being some eight feet above the mosaic pavement
of the hall. This retreat held the Emperor's throne, to which a small
door communicated from the back.
The throne was elevated on a dais of silver steps. Four massive silver
lions bore an inner canopy of gold, curiously wrought and emblazoned
with jewels. Tavernier, the French traveler, himself a goldsmith,
estimated the value of this wonderful structure at so many millions
sterling that later historians have held the sum named to be incredible.
Nevertheless, it made a brave show in the clear light of an Indian
interior in the cold weather. Not less striking was the figure of
Jahangir himself. Robed in white muslin, his belt, simitar, dagger-hilt,
and scarf literally blazed with diamonds. On his turban reposed a
Persian diadem with twelve points, each terminating in a large diamond
of purest water and most brilliant luster. Within a mass of sparkling
stones in the center was set a shimmering pearl of extraordinary size
and value, while a necklace of smaller but exquisite pearls served to
enhance the lustrous ornament in his crown. Tavernier, probably with
reasonable accuracy, valued the diadem alone at two millions sterling.
Grouped near him on the steps of the dais, or on the platform, were
several court dignitaries, amidst whose gorgeous robes the Englishmen's
eyes quickly discerned the cassock of Dom Geronimo. A host of officials
and nobles of lesser importance thronged the floor of the great hall,
and the scene was one of glittering animation at the moment the two
friends arrived, the only somber and sinister note being the unrelieved
black robe of the Jesuit.
That they were expected was demonstrated by the sudden stilling of
tongues and craning of necks as they approached. All men made way for
them, as men will, though the path be to the steps of a throne, when
they think a fellow creature is doomed to instant death or torture. It
was common knowledge that these two had not only thwarted Jahangir's
amours and laid violent hands on him in the process, but that he was
their creditor, in his father's behalf, for a considerable sum of
money. What better reasons could there be for hanging the pair of them
forthwith?
Yet, some prudent souls, noting the fearless glances cast around by
Sainton and his less colossal but powerfully built companion--thinking,
perhaps, that the Emperor might call on his faithful subjects to seize
these two--edged away from the vicinity. It would be much easier to yell
than to act when Jahangir cried "Maro!"[D]
[Footnote D: "Kill them!"]
"Desperate need calls for desperate deed," growled Roger as they strode
forward, side by side. "If it comes to a fight, Walter, let me sweep a
clear space with a stroke or two. Then I shall catch thee by the belt
and heave thee up at Jahangir. It will take him by surprise. Bring him
out, as a keen dog would draw a badger. Once we have him on the floor,
perchance we can make terms."
Walter laughed gaily. The suggestion that they should terrorize the
whole Mogul court by sheer force was ludicrous, and its humor was not
lessened by the knowledge that they were both in a position of imminent
danger. The presence of the Jesuit in close attendance on the Emperor
was, in itself, an ominous sign, and the mere sight of him brought a
glint into Mowbray's blue eyes which boded ill for Jahangir if Roger's
last daring expedient became necessary.
They advanced near to the marble canopy, and, doffing their hats, bowed
respectfully. Roger, with an eye over his shoulder, thought that the
eager mob of courtiers was inclined to tread too closely on his heels.
With his left hand he pressed the hilt of his long sword, and the
scabbard, sticking straight out behind him, seemed to indicate that he
did not intend to be incommoded.
Anyhow, those in the rear read his wishes that way, and anxiously
whispered to others not to thrust them forward, while the wiser men, who
had kept aloof, noting the strange expression on Jahangir's face,
thanked Allah for the wit which stationed them in a safe place.
Walter, who, of course, acted in the assumption that Jahangir had sent
for him in the most friendly spirit, began the conversation by
addressing a neatly worded compliment to the monarch on his accession.
"It is the happy law of nature," he said, "that the setting of the sun
shall be followed by the rising thereof. May your Majesty's reign
continue for as many years as that of your illustrious father, and may
the brightness of your glory illumine the earth!"
Having some trick of versification, he gave the words a turn towards a
Persian couplet. There was a rustle of gratified surprise among the
audience, few of whom were aware of Walter's proficiency in the courtly
language of Hindustan.
Jahangir, smiling acidly, bent forward:--
"I sent for a merchant," he said, "but you have brought me a poet."
"A happy chance enables me to combine the two, your Majesty."
The Emperor, without any hesitation, answered:--
"You are modest, withal. The last time we met I discovered in you other
qualities, whilst your words savored more of the battlefield than of the
court."
"I have not seen your Majesty before," said Walter boldly, for he could
in no wise guess what line Jahangir intended to take with him, and he
was not prepared for this open allusion to the struggle at the gate of
the Diwan's garden.
The King's face exhibited some amazement, as well it might. He
significantly touched his right forearm, which was closely wrapped in
black silk.
"My eyes and ears may have deceived me," he cried, "but I have that here
which bears witness against thee."
"Your Majesty is good enough to allude to a slight dispute which
involved Prince Jahangir and another. It did not concern me, and I was
foolish to take part in it, but I maintain that had I encountered the
Emperor on that occasion I would have behaved very differently."
Dom Geronimo, who lost no word of the interview, seemed to be displeased
by Mowbray's adroit distinction between the occupant of the throne and a
prince of the royal blood. He leaned over and whispered something, but
Jahangir paid little heed to him.
"Then, you think a monarch should have no memory?" he asked, looking
fixedly at Walter.
"Not so. He should remember his friends and forget his enemies."
"And how shall I class thee and thy comrade?"
"We trust that your Majesty will continue to show us the favor
manifested by your royal father."
Jahangir laughed.
"It is strange," he said slowly, "but you have read my intention. I am
told that the renowned Akbar had it in mind to give you an exhibition of
certain sports which he loved. Faithful to his wishes in every respect
as I am, I have brought you hither to-day for that same purpose. I have
ordered a steward to wait on you. After the midday meal he will conduct
you to the _tamasha-gah_,[E] where I will meet you. Farewell. God is
great!"
[Footnote E: Arena, or sport-ground.]
"May His brightness shine forth!" chanted the Mahomedans present, and,
ere Mowbray and Sainton well understood the King's desire, Jahangir had
vanished and they were confronted by a bowing chamberlain, who besought
them to accompany him to a guest-room.
Here, an excellent meal was served. On the table were several flagons of
various wines. Though they knew not what was in store for them, and the
Emperor's manner was as inscrutable as his words, they fully believed
that he did not mean them to be poisoned on that occasion, so they ate
heartily, notwithstanding Roger's earlier precaution in the matter of
breakfast. But the wine, though its novelty was tempting, they spared.
They knew its effects in that climate, and until they were far removed
from Agra it behooved them to keep eye undimmed and blood free from
fever.
The less they drank the more the steward pressed the wine upon them,
until Roger, whom the sight of the flagons tried sorely, bade the man,
if he were minded to be truly hospitable, send the liquor to their
abode, where they would endeavor to do it justice.
"If your Honor will say that you have already partaken of it I shall
obey your behest," said the other with alacrity.
"That will be only the bare truth," was the astonished reply, for they
had each tasted a small quantity and found it excellent, there being
Canary, Alicant, Malaga, and the famed product of Oporto on the board.
"'Ware hawk, Roger," interposed Walter. "Unless I mistake me greatly we
are being screwed up to undergo some ordeal. Jahangir said naught of
paying us. I dislike his civility."
"Gad! if this honest fellow keeps his word and conveys the bottles to
the old Diwan's house, I shall change my mind anent the chuck ere
midnight. What flea hath bitten thee now, Walter? The King hath dealt
with us right royally, and you and he seemed to oil each other with
smooth words."
"I cannot forego my suspicions. They are useless, I admit. We have
thrust our heads into the jaws of the lion, and can scarce complain if
he snaps them off."
"Let us rather resolve to give him the toothache if he tries any
tricks," growled Sainton. "Make for him, lad, if there be aught amiss.
Trust to me to clear a path. For each one in the crowd who draws for
the King there will be another ready to draw against him should they see
a chance of success."
They spoke in English. Their native attendant, seeing that they had
finished their meal, begged to be allowed to depart for a little while.
When all was ready he would come and bring them to the _tamasha-gah_.
They were seated in a beautiful apartment, with frescoed walls, mosaic
floor, and arched Moorish roof composed of colored tiles. On one side
it opened into a garden. The palace, unlike most kingly residences,
was not one vast building, but was made up of a series of exquisitely
proportioned halls or small private abodes, sometimes connected by
covered ways, but often standing quite apart, and always surrounded by a
wealth of flowers and foliage peculiarly grateful to eyes wearied by the
glare of the sun reflected from white marble.
Industriously watering the plants was a sturdy _bhisti_, or
water-carrier. His goatskin bag seemed to be inexhaustible. He had been
traversing the garden paths throughout the whole time they were eating.
No sooner were they alone in the room than he ran close to the plinth
and began to deluge the rose-bushes in good earnest.
"Protector of the poor!" he murmured to Walter, "stay not here. Go away
quickly, in God's name!"
Considerably startled by the man's words, which chimed so strangely with
his own forebodings, Mowbray bent towards him.
"Who bade thee give me this message?" he asked, knowing full well that
such a menial would never dare to speak on his own authority.
"One who wishes thee well, sahib--my wife, to wit," answered the
_bhisti_.
"Thy wife!"
"Yes, honored one. You plucked our child from death in the river, and my
wife heard from others that there is intent to make sport with thee and
the Hathi-sahib ere both are put to death."
Swish, swish went the water among the rose-leaves. Never was there a
more energetic _bhisti_, for a gardener had appeared, and further talk
was impossible.
"As well die here as a mile away," was Roger's quiet comment. "We have
breakfasted, we have dined, and a fight is toward. What more can a man
want? Out with your hanger, Walter, when Jahangir so much as opes his
mouth to speak crossly. We shall give him a feast of steel, with first,
second, and third course all alike. There shall be much carving, yet
none will tarry to eat. Gad! this talking makes me thirsty, and, if I am
fated to fall to-day, their blades may as well let out some good liquor.
Fall to, lad! We may not have another chance."
He seized a bottle of Alicant and poured out two generous measures.
Mowbray lifted a tankard and cried:--
"Here's to Old England and Nellie Roe, if I never see either again!"
"And here's to the day when I set foot on the heather once more!" was
Roger's sturdy rejoinder. It was in such spirit that they followed the
chamberlain when he reappeared.
They had no opportunity of conversing again with the _bhisti_. Whatever
good cause inspired his mysterious message they were now on the verge of
enlightenment, so Walter called the poor fellow towards him and openly
presented him with some rupees, saying:--
"He that refreshes the thirsty earth and causes the flowers to grow is
among the most deserving of mortals."
The man shifted his water-bag uneasily.
"Salaam, sahib," he said. "May your years be numbered as the pice in
these coins!"
Now, there are sixty-four pice in a rupee, so the _bhisti's_ wish had
not an uncheerful ring in their ears as they followed their guide across
the garden and thence to a new part of the palace grounds. They were
conducted to an extensive stone platform, built level with the
fortifications at a point where the outer walls were laved by the river
Jumna.
Exactly in front of and below the platform, however, a square enclosed
court, or arena, was reclaimed from the bed of the stream. The
preparations in progress there, no less than the presence of several
elephants in battle gear, hunting leopards in leash, antelopes trained
for fighting, buffaloes whose tremendous horns were tipped with lance
points, and many other animals, including even the ungainly rhinoceros,
showed what manner of sport was forthcoming. Notwithstanding the
precarious condition of their own fortunes, both Mowbray and Sainton
regarded the scene with curious eyes. They had, of course, during their
three years' sojourn, witnessed the fierce spring of the _chitah_[F]
onto the back of a flying deer; they had chased wild boar and even
_nilgau_, the fierce blue cow of India, on horseback; they had
seen a trained eagle pounce onto an antelope and buffet the frightened
creature's head with its wings until the claws got to work. But a combat
of elephants was a King's amusement, as few save a monarch could afford
the cost or compel men to risk and lose their lives in such fashion.
[Footnote F: Leopard]
The broad terrace on which they stood was flanked by the graceful
buildings of the zenana. A double line of spear-men guarded it on three
sides, while another batch of warriors surrounded a ponderous block of
black marble, resting on four low supports, which bore the Emperor's
chair. This was placed close to the edge of the battlements, so that his
Majesty could watch each detail of the sanguinary encounters in the
arena some twenty feet beneath. The chair was securely bound to the
marble block lest it should topple over in a moment of royal excitement,
and there was standing room on the huge stone to accommodate a dozen
privileged spectators. For the rest, the platform extended so far on
either hand that all could look easily into the enclosure, whilst many a
window and balcony of the palace permitted the ladies of the household
to take part in the proceedings if they were so minded. When the
Englishmen arrived there were already many rajahs, omrahs, and other
notabilities standing in groups on the terrace. None of these addressed
the strangers, but muttered words and covert looks showed that some
event was toward of which those present were cognizant.
Roger eyed the strength of the guard and smiled. He laughed outright
when he nudged Walter to note the manner in which even the royal chair
was protected.
"Jahangir either plans mischief or is afraid of it," he said. "He hath
marshaled a small army to protect him in his own house."
Walter straightway took the bull by the horns in addressing a question
to one who stood near and with whom he had a slight acquaintance.
"Is such display of force usual within the palace?" he asked.
The other shrugged his shoulders.
"They talk of a fierce tiger being let loose," he murmured. "One never
knows what may happen."
He vouchsafed no further information. Indeed, at that moment, Jahangir
put in an appearance. His swarthy face was flushed and there was an evil
glint in his close set eyes. Evidently he had been imbibing liquor
forbidden by the Prophet. Accompanied by a few young noblemen whose
appearance betokened the force of kingly example, he strode towards his
chair without paying the slightest attention to the respectful salaams
of the crowd.
"Bring the sheep first," he grunted. "We shall deal with the pigs
later."
This obscure joke was greeted with shouts of laughter.
"Karamat! Karamat!"[G] was the exclamation, for every Mahomedan there
had laid to heart the Persian proverb:--
"Should the King say that it is night at noon,
Be sure to cry: 'Behold, I see the moon!'"
[Footnote G: "Wonderful! Wonderful!"]
Yet Mowbray, alert to discern the slightest straw-twist on the swirl of
the current, thought that some of the older men glanced askance at each
other, which puzzled him, as he knew quite well that the death of a
Feringhi was of little account to an Asiatic.
The "sheep" alluded to by Jahangir were veritable carcases of those
animals, slung from poles by the feet tied in a bunch. They were carried
by servants onto the terrace itself, and forthwith a few athletic youths
created some excitement by endeavoring, in the first place, to cut
through the four feet at one blow, and, secondly, to divide the body in
the same way. They used their razor-edged simitars with much skill,
science rather than great strength being demanded by the task.
When half a dozen carcases had been dissected with more or less success,
Jahangir shouted a question to Sainton, of whose presence he seemed to
be unaware hitherto.
"Tell me, Hathi," he cried. "Canst perform either trick with thy long
sword? Thy arm is strong, but is thy wrist supple?"
All eyes were instantly bent on Roger, to whom Mowbray whispered the
King's meaning lest he had not properly caught the words. The giant
grinned genially.
"A slung sheep offers but slight resistance to a blow," he said. "Were
he fresh from the spit I'd sooner eat him."
Discreet mirth rewarded his humor, but Jahangir wheeled round in his
chair towards the ditch and clapped his hands as a signal to the
attendants. At once began a series of sanguinary events in which
buffaloes contended with _nilgau_, hunting dogs tore down bears let
loose from invisible caverns, and panthers made magnificent leaps after
flying deer. Few were real combats. In most cases a helpless creature
was ruthlessly slaughtered by some vicious and snarling enemy, and the
more ghastly the dying struggles of the doomed antelope or bellowing cow
the more excited and vociferous became the spectators.
A fight between elephants was a really thrilling affair. Two magnificent
brutes, specially imported from Ceylon, were led up on opposite sides of
a low mud wall built on wood and carried into the arena by a host of
men. Gorgeously caparisoned, and trumpeting strange squeals of defiance,
each elephant was urged towards this barrier by his two riders.
Separated at first by the wall, they fought furiously with heads, tusks,
and trunks, while the leading _mahout_ encouraged his mount by shrill
cries, forcing him to the attack with a steel _ankus_, or striving to
ward off the blows of the opposing beast's trunk with the same
instrument. It was quickly apparent why there were two men astride an
elephant. Each cunning brute knew that it was an advantage to get rid of
his adversary's _mahout_, and, indeed, one rider was killed before the
fight was long in progress. But the death of the man so enraged his
elephant that he sprang onto the wall ere the second attendant could
climb to his head, and gored his opponent in the flank with such
ferocity that the other turned and fled.
The two rushed towards the end of the enclosure, and the leading animal
charged a stout barricade so blindly that it yielded before his great
bulk. He fell, and the pursuer attacked him furiously. At once a
terrific fanfare of hautboys and cymbals burst forth, and a number of
men ran with lighted fireworks, mostly Catherine wheels, attached to
long sticks, which they thrust under the legs and before the eyes of the
victor. This device caused him to abandon the assault, and he allowed
his remaining _mahout_ to drive him away, but not until two unfortunate
_bhois_, or attendants, had been trodden to death.
Jahangir nodded his satisfaction, and the riders of the elephants were
permitted to alight, each man being given a sackful of pice, while the
ears of the conquering animal were decorated with tails of the white
Tibetan ox, or yak. As for the inanimate corpses of the hapless _mahout_
and his assistants, they were huddled onto biers and borne away,
followed by some shrieking women, whose plaints were drowned by the din
of trumpets six or seven feet in length and a foot wide at the mouth.
It must not be imagined that the spectacle disgusted the English
onlookers. In an age when men lived by the sword, when personal bravery
and physical hardihood were the best equipment a youth could possess,
there were no fastidious notions as to the sacredness of human life or
the deliberate cruelty involved in such encounters.
They were wondering what would provide the next act in this drama of
blood and death when a stir towards the rear of the platform on which
they stood caused them to look in that direction.
Sainton, by reason of his height, could see over the heads of the crowd.
"By the cross of Osmotherly!" he cried, "the mystery is cleared. Here
comes Sher Afghan, closely tended, if not a prisoner."
It was, indeed, the Persian noble himself who now advanced towards
Jahangir, the Emperor having swung his chair, which was on a pivot, to
face the palace. Sher Afghan's mien was collected, his dress in good
order. He was unarmed, and the mace-bearers who marched behind him might
be merely doing him honor.
With eyes for none save Jahangir he strode on with firm step. At the
proper distance he stopped and bowed deeply.
"To hear the King's order is to obey," he said quietly. "Your Majesty's
messenger rode far, for I hastened to Burdwan, but when he reached me I
turned my horse's head that moment."
"Say rather, you gave orders to your litter carriers. When last we
parted you had pleasant company in the _palki_," replied Jahangir.
"Neither my wife nor I love indolence, O King of Kings. We have ridden
hither at the rate of sixty miles a day."
"I am glad of it. Being newly come to the throne I did not wish the most
beautiful and the bravest of my subjects to be banished from the capital
to far Burdwan."
"Your Majesty's words are more propitious than a favorable sign in the
heavens."
"They carry no better augury than the hour of your arrival, for, in very
truth, I feared you might be tardy. I owe these strangers from beyond
the black waters some slight debt in my illustrious father's behalf.
Certain monies shall be paid them, but first I have discharged a promise
of the great Akbar's to entertain them."
He waved a jeweled hand towards Mowbray and Sainton, and the Persian saw
them for the first time. But Jahangir went on slowly, his white teeth
showing as if he wished to bite each word:--
"Thy coming, friend, hath provided for all a truly marvelous close to a
day of pleasure. Art thou not named Sher Afghan, Slayer of Tigers?
Behold, then, a foe worthy even of thy reputation."
Again he clapped his hands. A door was opened in the cellars beneath,
and a great Bengal tiger, maddened by hours of torture, sprang into the
center of the arena, the broken barrier having been hastily repaired
with strong hurdles. The lissome beast, whose striped skin shone like
cloth of gold and brown velvet in the rays of the declining sun, stood
for a little while lashing his sides in fury with his tail until he
caught the scent of blood. Then he crouched, and began to stalk, he
cared not what. The air was fetid with killing, and this past master in
the hunter's art knew the tokens of his craft.
But the arena was otherwise empty, and his lambent eyes, searching
eagerly for the cause of so much reek, were raised at last to the intent
row of faces looking down at him.
"What sayest thou, Sher Afghan," cried the Emperor. "Art thou minded to
vindicate thy title with one who seems to dispute it, or has a happy
marriage robbed thy arm of its prowess?"
The Persian hesitated. He, like his English friends, had thought it
better to brave Jahangir's animosity in Agra itself than fall beneath
the attack of hirelings in some distant fray. In the capital, there was
always a chance of a political upheaval as the outcome of a quarrel,
whereas, in a remote part, the minions of a vengeful monarch might
strike unheeded. Jahangir's tenure of the throne was far from stable.
Yet, though he might not dare openly to put to death a noble of high
rank, this challenge meant little else, even if it held the plausible
pretext that Sher Afghan chose his doom voluntarily.
A thrill of anticipation shook all hearers as they awaited the Persian's
answer. He gazed around on them disdainfully, for he was well aware that
many there would utter a protest did they not fear for their own skins.
Then he spoke.
"Give me arms and a ladder," he said, "and I shall try to kill the
beast."
A murmur arose, like the hum of wind-tossed leaves presaging a storm.
Some men might have been warned by it, but the Emperor, already half
intoxicated, was now goaded to utter madness by his rival's cool daring.
"Arms thou shalt have," he screamed, "but what need is there of a
ladder? Why not jump? There is sand beneath!"
Now this, indeed, was spurring Sher Afghan to his death, for the tiger
would be on him with inconceivable speed ere he could recover his feet.
Among those who thronged breathlessly forward to hear all that passed,
Roger Sainton listened and understood. The big Yorkshireman's eyes
glowed like live coals, and the veins on his neck bulged with sudden
passion. It was in his mind to end the quarrel then and there by
sweeping the Emperor and a row of his guards into the fosse, but a
quaint idea suddenly gripped him, and, without any hesitation, he put it
in force.
Thrusting the gapers left and right he reached the royal dais.
"If not a ladder, friend," he said to Sher Afghan, "why not a step?"
With that, he stooped and caught hold of the huge block of black marble.
Before anyone so much as grasped his intent he lifted it from its
supports, toppling Jahangir and several of his favorites in a confused
heap on the terrace. Then he pitched the mass of stone into the arena
and it chanced to fall flat onto the crouching tiger.
His sword flashed out as several spear-men, having recovered their wits,
made lunges at him.
"Hold back, good fellows!" he cried cheerily, for Roger's anger never
continued when steel was bared. "Mayhap the Emperor thinks the revel is
ended!"