THE SYUD TAKES TWO DEGREES IN HIS TURREEQUT.
For a few days there was nothing more to be done. The Rajah's child
was well, and her complexion was already changed from the grey, livid
colour which had before existed to a healthy ruddy tint, and she
slept without waking. Every day the old Dervish visited her; and the
child, now fearless, nestled in his lap. What if she were a Beydur!
The haunted rooms had been freed of evil spirits; and by way of giving
assurance to all, especially to the servants, the family went and
slept there without being disturbed. A packet of medicines was made up
for the Rajah by the old man and Zóra, and the use of them explained.
Finally, the day arrived on which they must depart. The oorus or
anniversary, of the Saint Syud Sofy Surmust would take place on the
third day; and among the crowds present, it would be difficult to find
lodgings. Finally, the Rajah proposed that his secretary should attend
the old man, and see him safely through the festival. "And," added that
worthy person, "if your friend the Kazee of Kembavee is there, so much
the better." Then the presents to the old Syud were brought from the
treasury; and the seals, as they had been made on them, were inspected
by the Rajah and broken, and the list that had been placed inside
read out. It was, indeed, a princely gift, suited to the age and holy
profession of the recipient; and with a bag of five hundred rupees the
list closed.
"Nay, but I protest against this," said the old man, earnestly. "I
exercise my art not for gain; but for the love of God and His name."
"Well," replied the Rajah, "if thou wilt, give it away in charity. A
gift cannot be recalled; and so I pray thee take it for the remembrance
of one who, though he is only a Beydur, can at least prove grateful."
And after this no more objection was made; it would have been an
insult. Then, as the Syud rose, the Rajah rose also, and went and
touched the dear old man's feet; and the Ranees were called and did
the same; and the child, with many tears, hung about his neck, and her
hands wandered over his face; and it was with difficulty that he and
Zóra got away, under the blessings showered upon them. But all was
finished, and the secretary's wife had obtained the dearest wish of her
life, and drank a charm, which was washed from the paper on which it
had been written into a silver cup filled with water, in entire faith
in its efficacy. And now the Turreequt awaited them at Sugger, and
they must go. The money that had been given them was converted into
the small gold coin called hoons, which were then in circulation,
and could easily be carried; and Wednesday being the proper day for
proceeding northwards, according to the Rujub-ool-Ghyb, and a fortunate
conjunction of planets to boot, they took leave of their hostess and
departed. The day before, when they had gone to pay their respects to
the Rajah, he said he had provided two palanquins for the old Dervish
and Zóra; and though this interfered with the vow to walk the whole
distance, yet it had become evident to Zóra that her grandfather's
life would be endangered by fatigue; and, after much remonstrance, she
agreed to a compromise, that on approaching Sugger or any other town he
should alight from his conveyance, spread a sheet on the ground before
him, sing the invocation, and await the alms of the passers by. So with
Ahmed and Mamoolla mounted on their ponies, the baggage animals loaded
and led behind, a guard sent by the Rajah, and the secretary mounted
on a palfrey of his own, the little procession passed out of the gate
of Wakin-Keyra amid the blessings and prayers of a crowd which had
assembled there.
The road to Sugger lay through some low rocky hills for a while, and,
passing through a natural gap in them, the valley and town of Sugger
came in sight, at the distance of a few miles; a pretty scene, for
the town seemed embosomed in trees; several considerable tanks for
irrigation lay blue and still in the hollow, and the bright green
rice-fields below them formed a pleasant and remarkable feature in
the landscape; while the newly-erected mausoleum of Ankoos Khan, a
late Minister of Beejapoor, rose in an imposing mass above all. To the
right were high, rocky hills, which seemed to increase in height till
they broke suddenly into the plain a few miles to the east, and were
composed of rocks like those so vividly remembered by Zóra at Juldroog,
piled on each other in huge masses. On the north side of the valley
was a still higher and more massive range, which the secretary pointed
out to her as he rode by the side of her palanquin, and told her that
the great fortress of Shahpoor occupied a portion of it. All over the
valley between the two ranges the land was well cultivated, and the
early crops were now ripening, while others were still green. To Zóra,
who had never seen such a sight before, the whole valley appeared a
perfect paradise; and, indeed, under the glowing sunlight, it was no
doubt very beautiful.
A strange feature in the latter portion of their journey was the
number of touters who now met them, crying the praises of the rooms
they had to let; and these soon increased to a crowd. The occurrence
of the annual festival was a source of profit to all in the town, and
everyone who had even a vacant cowshed to offer, cleaned it out and
proclaimed it a palace. Lodgings had, however, already been provided;
and the Moolla of the great mosque hearing from his friend, the Kazee
of Kembavee, of the proposed visit of the old Dervish and Zóra, had
kindly offered such accommodation as his house afforded. Now, as they
approached the town the procession halted, and the arrangement Zóra
had proposed was carried out. Near the great mausoleum of Ankoos Khan
was a grassy bank shaded by a large tree, and they sat down and sang
the invocation, while on the sheet spread out cowries and copper coins
soon began to rattle as they fell; and the result, as the old Dervish
declared, as he stroked his long beard, was evidence of the goodness
of the Almighty. "There will be many poor folks at the evening prayer,
child," he said to Zóra, "and thou art to distribute all there is to
them." Then, after a while, he rose, and led by Zóra, for he would
allow no one else to perform this office, he walked slowly on.
The Bazar, and indeed the whole of the town, was full of people; and
the sight of the venerable old man, led by his beautiful grandchild,
created no little excitement. "Who is the holy Dervish?" cried some.
"We welcome your holiness to our town in the name of His Highness the
Prophet and Sofy Surmust, on whom be peace!" cried a body of Mussulman
weavers, all with long beards as though they were Dervishes. "That is
the holy saint who cast out devils at Wakin-Keyra," cried others; "may
he live a hundred years! And that is his grandchild, who leads him
everywhere, bless her sweet face!" And it was, indeed, sweet to look
upon.
Zóra had had a green dress made for herself at Wakin-Keyra, and this
she wore that day. It was a tunic like that of a man, with loose
skirts. She wore a turban of green muslin, into which her beautiful
hair was gathered and bound up. Her loose trousers were also green, and
the scarf which was tied round her waist, crossed over her head; so
that, if needful, she could at any time conceal her face. Women, as she
passed them, held out their children to her, and, stretching out their
own hands, kissed the tips of their fingers, or cracked their knuckles
against their temples. "God defend thee from evil glances, holy one,"
cried some. "Ah! she has taken the vows of a Syudanee," said others,
"and is not ashamed." Ashamed! no, indeed. Zóra seemed triumphant. She,
too, had her humble place in the Turreequt, and, God willing, would
go on with it, leading her beloved grandfather to the last. No wonder
she was admired, nay, almost reverenced, as, with a firm, confident
step, and a look of modest reliance in her great brown eyes, she passed
through the thronged street. Even the soldiers who were lounging about
respected her, rose at her approach, and saluted her humbly. Thus they
passed on till they were near the mosque, where their friend the Kazee
awaited them, attended by their host the Moolla; and they were led into
the great court of the mosque, and then through a door into a private
enclosure, which was always kept, as the Moolla told them, for visitors
of distinction; and Zóra at once saw that there was ample room and
privacy for all. While behind was a yard which would contain their
ponies, Ahmed, and the men they had hired to accompany them.
Presently the call to afternoon prayer was sung from the roof of the
mosque, and crowds began to assemble--Fakeers, weavers, soldiers,
and many strangers. The Kazee had requested the old Dervish to give
a discourse, such as might suit the people assembled, and he had
consented; and after prayer was ended, he recited a verse of the Koran,
and began his sermon on the Turreequt, or path of salvation. Never had
such a discourse been heard in that mosque. It seemed as if, translated
by his enthusiasm above the ordinary life and occupations of men, as
indeed by his blindness and reverential spirit he had been for so
many years, the Dervish was like one inspired, and his eloquence, so
pathetic, so practical, and so truly fitting his subject, powerfully
affected his audience, and many groaned, many wept; and at the close
of the address all his hearers crowded round him to interchange the
salutation of peace which is exchanged among Mussulman worshippers.
Thenceforward the afternoon services at the mosque were attended by
crowds; and when she led her grandfather to his apartment, to take
rest, Zóra could not help exclaiming, in ardent tones of love and
admiration, "Oh, Abba! I never heard thee speak as thou hast done
to-day. May the Lord bless and sustain thee to make the people like
thyself." But he could not reply; his own heart appeared too full for
words. That evening, too, he performed his vow of begging, and people
said, "That is the Dervish who preached to-day, and his child; they
have a vow to beg." And so no one molested them as they sang their
invocations; and Zóra carried her wallet on her arm, receiving alms
from those who heard her sweet thrilling voice, whether they were
Mussulmans or Hindoos.
But it was necessary to choose which association of Fakeers the old
man should belong to. What had he to hope for in the world? What had
Zóra? Her religious enthusiasm had been aroused, and she, too, would
fain have made an open profession of her faith, but her grandfather
objected. "It is not in thy horoscope, child," he said, as she urged
him to consent with sobs and tears. "In that are children, and the
rank thou art entitled to. These cannot come through profession as a
Fakeer; and shall we, who have given ourselves up to the guidance of
the Lord, dare to misinterpret His will? Be patient, then, my child,
and fear not, for I believe that what will come to thee will come out
of thy faith and thy endurance." So she was silent, and wept no more;
but, instead, dwelt upon his form whom she had once watched, and which
seemed to rise to her mental vision more vividly than ever.
It was, however, necessary to decide this serious question of election.
Our old Dervish, by his first and subsequent discourses, had given
proof of his fitness for any grade, even the highest one of Musháekh,
beyond which only remained that of Wallee, or saint, and, in concert
with his friends, a whole day was spent in deliberation on the subject.
At Sugger were assembled representatives of all the hundreds of sects
of Fakeers existing in the country, of which we spare the reader the
enumeration of, to him or her, unpronounceable names. There were some
who sung odes and hymns, some who danced, some who played instruments;
many who led lewd, riotous lives, and pretended to do miracles;
others who walked through thorns and danced on hot embers, or took
red-hot chains or ploughshares in their hands, and, dipping them in
powdered resin, wiped off the blaze with naked hands. Some kept bears,
or tigers, or monkeys, which they had tamed and taught to perform
ingenious tricks; others had tame snakes living in their sleeves or in
the breasts of their tunics. Again, there were others who seared their
tongues with hot wires, or scored their arms or breasts till the blood
flowed, or put live scorpions into their mouths.
In short, if I, the writer of this chronicle, enumerated all the sects
and their particular professions and means of getting their livelihood,
my readers would see plainly, as the old Dervish did, that these were
but contrivances to get money, or to lead dissolute lives under the
pretence of a godly vow. "And what," he said, "could a quilted cap and
an iron rod like the Kullundurs, or black turbans and clothes like the
devotees of Shah Zinda Mudar, signify as aids to the Turreequt?" He
therefore said to his friends,--
"All these divisions of Fakeers are delusions, my brothers, and many
of them are delusions of Satan, and work for the ruin of souls. My own
faith is simple, and my course of life is also simple. Whatever I have
been able to do, either in the relief of the sick or the casting out of
evil spirits, I have effected under the invocation of the noble Saint
Peer-i-Dustugeer, the Prince Syud Abd-ool-Qadir, on whom be peace!
Should there be any professors of his doctrine or ceremonies in this
great assemblage, I pray ye, friends, bring him or them to me, that
I may make a public profession, and be received into the sect as a
Moorsheed (scholar, or novice). I shall henceforward be a Fakeer, and
fight for the faith under the banners of my chosen Lord."
The Moolla of the mosque, the secretary, and the Kazee, who had each
become devotees of other sects, would fain have had the old man join
that which they themselves had professed; but after much earnest and
learned discussion they could not succeed in weakening their guest's
resolution, and they let him have his way. A professor of the Qadirea
doctrines was soon found, who was a respectable and learned man from
Golconda, who had taken the degree already, and, in conjunction
with our old friend, a fitting day was soon named and fixed. What
a pleasure, too, it was to receive visits from the officers of the
troops stationed at Sugger, who were mostly Dekhanies! How pleasant
to hear the old surnames, which he had not heard for years! For here
were Bylmees, Alla-ool-Moolks, Siah-poshas--white standards, black
sunshades--and many others, whose familiar war cries he had heard
in the field. And the commander had the Akhbars, or news-letters of
Beejapoor, and left them for Zóra to read to her grandfather.
How pleasant it was to hear of old names, and of the King's progress
against the armies of Ahmednugger; watching every movement of the
enemy, yet not striking a blow; but striving to bring them to reason.
Then in one of the latest, the arrival of Abbas Khan was mentioned, and
the accusation against him and the trial by ordeal, and the praises of
the young man and description of his noble bearing before the Queen, a
stripling as he appeared before a giant, were, you may be sure, dear
reader, read by Zóra with feelings of exultation she could not repress.
She even set to work and copied the whole passage. Then also Meeah's
appointment to command the reinforcement for the King, and his march
out of the city; and that Runga Naik accompanied him. So he was well,
Zóra thought, with glistening eyes and beating heart, and has cleared
himself before all, even his Queen. I think her grandfather was too
much bound up in his Turreequt to care much about the Beejapoor news,
though he appeared to rejoice at Abbas Khan's victory; but in the
Akhbar of the next day, in which the discovery of Osman Beg's treason
was detailed, and read by Zóra with emotion, and that he would be tried
before the Queen, the old man suddenly burst out into an unexpected
display of feeling. Hitherto he had not complained of the outrage to
Zóra, except at first, but now he was passionately excited. "Spare me,
O Lord!" he cried, raising his hands to heaven. "Spare me to help thy
justice before men; then Thou wilt give me tongue to speak his shame
who purposed shame to my child--yea, shame and insult. Ameen! Ameen!"
and again he relapsed into silence. "Thou dost not say Ameen, girl," he
said at length.
"The Lord, who forgives our sins, can do as He wills, Abba, in this
matter, and forgive if it be good," replied Zóra, gravely. "Yet I can
say in truth Ameen and Ameen to whatever He willeth. Doubt not, Abba,
that truth will be declared, for so my heart tells me daily, and that
this our journey is the way to its attainment."
He was again silent for awhile, and then said, "And hast thou forgiven
him, Zóra?"
"I have forgiven him," she replied, humbly. "He can do me no harm; and,
under the protection of the Lord, he did me none. For what he purposed
to do, Alla will judge."
"And where didst thou learn this, child?"
"From your own lips, Abba," she said, humbly; and going to him, bent
down and kissed his hands and his feet. "From your own lips, Abba. Dost
thou think I forget thy teaching, when all who hear remember it?"
"I am rebuked, Zóra, and justly so. If I do not what I bid others do,
of what use is this Turreequt? Let him be mentioned, no more between
us. No, he cannot harm thee now; and let the Lord deal with him as He
pleaseth;" and the old man lay down and fell asleep.
Everything had been arranged as to the initiation. The Musháekh from
Golconda, who was a learned and wealthy man, who lived in an ancient
saint's garden and shrine near that fort, and was much respected by
the King, had been one of the audience when the first of the Dervish's
sermons was preached, and he had continued his visits to the mosque
every day, and after the last he was brought into the old man's
apartments, and introduced to him. He had believed that the venerable
preacher was already a Musháekh of high degree, and was considerably
surprised by his request to be now allowed to enter the order, and
fixed the second day afterwards for the ceremony, giving a detail of
what would be needful. And we will not say what culinary preparations
were made under old Mamoolla and a staff of cooks, who were hired and
put under her orders; but there were sundry pilaos, birianees, kabobs,
and other savoury and delicate viands.
The cooking, which was for over a hundred Fakeers of all
denominations, had begun early in the morning, and before noon the
Musháekh arrived, accompanied by his friends, and took his seat in
the mosque. Then our old Dervish came forth, and many wild-looking
Fakeers, who had assembled, were led by the Kazee and the secretary,
and being presented to the holy man, they placed their hands on his
head and bade him welcome. Being asked whether his choice of the Saint
Peer-i-Dustugeer was a true one, the old man produced a diploma he
had received in Tunis, where he had become a disciple, and which had
been sealed with the seals of eminent men. This the Musháekh put to
his forehead and eyes, and kissed it; and it was handed round for the
edification of all who were present; and no other certificate of the
performance of the first ceremony being needful, the admission to the
second was proceeded with.
Strictly speaking it would have been advisable to have had all the
hair shaved from the old man's head, beard, eyebrows, and chest; but
because of his age this was dispensed with, and a few hairs were cut
from each with a pair of scissors, and his nails pared. Then he was
bathed carefully, and his new garments, carried before him, accompanied
by chaunts from the Fakeers, were given to him one by one, and certain
texts of the Koran repeated. Lastly, his crown, or cap, which had been
beautifully embroidered by Zóra, was placed on his head. It was of
green velvet, and his new tunic was of green muslin, with a green scarf
over all. After that he had to recite the four forms of belief. He was
asked three times whether he acknowledged the Musháekh his spiritual
leader and guide, and the whole of the assembly as brethren, and he
replied he did. Whereupon a loud shout arose that he was welcome in the
name of all the saints, each man calling out that of his own.
After that the crown, which had been removed, was solemnly put on his
head again; his grave cloth was hung about his neck with spices and
perfumes; a new loongee, or waist cloth, was put on, and a round piece
of mother of pearl tied round his neck. When all this was completed,
the Musháekh took several sips out of a cup of sherbet, handing it to
the old man, who drank it all, while the Musháekh at the same time
bestowed the new name which he was to bear hereafter. This was Luteef
Shah, or King, every properly elected Fakeer bearing that title; and
when the new name was pronounced, every one greeted it with a joyous
shout. Then the feast began, which had been so liberally provided, that
hundreds of the poor of the town were satisfied as well as the Fakeers,
and the installation of Luteef Shah was long remembered.
"When you have remained three days in your present grade," said the
Musháekh, "we will raise you to our own, for we are more in number
here than is needed by the order; but it will be a simple matter
in comparison with this, and confined to our degree alone." We may,
however, spare the reader the detail of these ceremonies, which were,
in truth, simple enough. They all paid a quiet visit to the tomb of
Sofy Surmust, which is a short distance to the north of Sugger, and
is a most unpretending earthen mound, whitewashed; and a carpet being
spread, the head Musháekh delivered a short address to the old man,
requiring him not only to repeat the confession of faith, but confess
all the sins of his life to be known to God, and to declare in the
presence of the Almighty and that assembly that they would never again
be repeated.
After this had been done, the instructor repeated all the names of
the chiefs of the sect as they had descended from the founder and
inherited; and a copy of this, which is called "Shujra," was given
to the novice, who was asked whether he acknowledged. A few gold
pieces, as part of the ceremony, were presented to the Moorsheed, for
the old Dervish was still rich; and the sale of Zóra's pretty caps,
drawers-strings, bodices, and other articles, had produced much more
than she anticipated, and the evening collection more than sufficed
for their maintenance. In any case they had still enough to bear the
heavier expenses at Gulburgah, for the highest order of all, which the
old Dervish, under his new title of Luteef Shah, was determined to
attain from the descendant of the most celebrated saint in the Dekhan,
Syud Geesoo Duráz, the lineal descendant of the original Wallee, who
had come from Northern India years ago, and become the spiritual leader
of the Moslems' Bahmuny Kings.
"I am going there myself," said his new friend, "for the Syud is a
great man, and what is more, a truly devout man, which some of his
race have not been. He will welcome you warmly, I know, for he is,
besides being my superior in a religious sense, my truly loved and
intimate friend. I think he will not object, and I have met with none
so worthy of the highest honour as yourself. The representatives of the
Saint Syud Abd-ool-Qadir, of Oodgeer, and of Sheykh Fureed, of Gooty,
and perhaps others, will be present, who knows? The anniversary at
Gulburgah is a very world of religious zeal, where, if I mistake not,
your daily discourses in the mosque will be attended with the best
results; you had better therefore come with me, for my hareem is with
me, and your child may need both society and protection. We are well
guarded, too, for your kind Sovereign sent soldiers with me, who are
enough to protect us both."
The proposal was a welcome one, and, after explaining the vow he had
made to beg his way to his destination, wherever that might chance to
be, our old friend finally agreed. It was impossible for him to walk
long stages day after day, but he could at least do as he had done when
he and Zóra entered Sugger. "Yes," he said, "the Lord carries us on,
and finds new friends and protectors as we go; we desire He will lead
us to some resting-place, where, like our friends from Golconda, we may
find peace."
As to Zóra, she was supremely happy. The wife of the Musháekh who had
performed the ceremonies was a comparatively young woman, related to
the Saint of Kullianee, a man of the highest temporal and religious
distinction. She had heard of Zóra through her own women, and welcomed
the girl kindly. Zóra had gone to her in her Syud's dress at first, and
was shy, as she always was; but when her Abba was in the mosque, and
when she could gain time, she ran across the street to the Musháekh's
lodgings, and soon became intimate with her; nor was it the less
pleasure to the lady that during the journey onwards she should have so
pleasant a companion.
Gulburgah lay to the north, and, therefore, the day of the
Rujub-ool-Ghyb was again Wednesday. Before that, however, a curious
scene occurred between the secretary and her grandfather, which Zóra,
who was seated in the inner chamber of the house, working diligently
to complete an order for some new caps, which she had to finish before
she left, overheard involuntarily. The worthy secretary was speaking
with her grandfather on the subject of the Turreequt generally, and,
indeed, as was his wont, using gross flattery, which the old man always
detested, and checked sometimes in not very mild language.
"If I were the blessed messenger of the Lord Himself you could not
flatter me more," said the old man, roused out of his ordinary
submission to such inflictions. "I pray you cease, and be silent, as it
behoves a modest man like you to do, Meer Sahib. If you want to pray,
why not step into the mosque, and offer your prayers to the Most High?"
"But your holiness can assist me in my desire. You can intercede for
me, and without you my prayers will gain no favour."
"I object to two things in your speech, Meer Sahib. First, that I
should be called your holiness, which is a title for Wallees and Owleas
only; and secondly, to knowing aught of your prayers and desires, which
I cannot assist."
"But you can assist them," persisted the secretary. "Huzrut, Huzrut, I
am beside myself; unless you help me I shall go mad."
"Now, God help thee, poor man," returned our friend. "Why shouldst thou
go mad? Art thou poor, I cannot help thee; art thou rich, pray Alla to
send thee grace to spend it. Thou hast no children! Well, I have given
thy wife a powerful charm, and I pray it may be efficacious; but still,
once more, if any fair one hath captivated thee, go to the gipsies, and
others who sell charms, and they will take thy riches for them; but
come not to me, my friend, for in that case thou wilt become my enemy."
"Oh! say not so Huzrut; say not so," said the man, prostrating
himself. "We are alone, and I fear, yet I would conceal nothing. I love
Zóra-bee, your grandchild, and I cannot live without her. Pity me,
and grant my prayer. See, I eat dust, I cast it on my head; I am your
supplicant, and our friend the Kazee is here, and we could at least be
betrothed, and I would follow you till----"
Now, while Zóra within was bursting with suppressed laughter at
seeing the little fat secretary sprawling on the ground before her
grandfather, she saw too, through the screen, ominous signs of a storm
gathering upon the dear old man's face; nor was it long before it broke.
"Thou, Meer Sahib, thou, to ask for the only child of one who is vowed
to God. Hast thou considered her birth, her position, and thine own?
Hast thou no perception of thine own meanness? Oh, good man, verily
thou hast eaten dirt, much dirt, and I feel the helplessness of age and
blindness to be a bar against thy chastisement for the insult. Hast
thou said aught to her? Get up and speak!"
"I--I--I. No--no. I could not be so rude; but if thou wilt permit me,
I will send a vakeel to her to-morrow."
"Thou shalt do no such thing; she can tell thee herself. She hath seen
thee often, and is not afraid of thee. And thou hast another wife, O
mean blockhead! Zóra! Zóra!" he shouted, "come hither. God forgive me
if I have been rough with him," he continued, as Zóra approached the
screen hanging across the door, and said, "I am here, Abba, but I must
stay within."
"Nay, I cannot tell thee," said the old man; "it is too ludicrous.
Let the Meer Sahib speak for himself." And without further ado, the
secretary got up, adjusted his turban, which had become awry, pressed
his waistbelt down on his hips, twisted up his moustachios, and, in
short, improved his appearance as much as was possible, and began to
address the girl in the most high-flown language he could command. He
quoted line upon line of Persian poetry, comparing her to the rose
and himself to a nightingale. He discoursed on the loves of Joseph
and Zuleeka, Potiphar's wife, of Abraham and Zuppoora, and would have
proceeded after the same fashion, but the old man burst into a peal of
laughter so hearty that the tears rolled down his cheeks.
"Enough, enough!" he cried, "O Meer Sahib; I am not used to laughter,
and thy speech is irresistible. What sayest thou, Zóra, wilt thou have
this jewel among secretaries, whose tongue is sweet as honey, to be thy
husband, and share his love with the lady we have left?"
"He is very kind to me," said Zóra, with a mischievous tone of raillery
in her voice. "Very kind, and I am utterly unworthy of him. Should so
great a man as a Rajah's secretary stoop to a Fakeer's granddaughter?
Touba! Touba! Fie! Fie! And what would his wife say?" And Zóra could
hold out no longer, but laughed in her turn.
"Come, Meer Sahib," said the old man, "let us be friends again, and
forget this folly. Return to thine own wife and comfort her. Thou
knowest thy life would not be pleasant if she heard of this. Go,
now, lest others tell her. Go, and God's peace be with thee, and my
blessing, though it is little worth. Go."
So the poor man departed not a little chagrined. But there is an old
proverb, that men with small round heads, and thin, long beards, do
foolish things, and in this case, at all events, there was no error.
Zóra was coming in to speak to her grandfather when the Kazee entered
the court. "What have you been saying to the Meer Sahib, Huzrut? I met
him in the street crying. I think I can guess; but no matter."
"What did he tell you?" asked the old man.
"Well, that my services might be required, and I was not to return
home."
"Indeed! It is a strange conceit," returned the other, and the
conversation passed into other subjects. They were to set out on the
morrow, and it had been arranged to travel by Shahpoor and Gogi; for
when the old Syud had heard that that town was so near, he could not
resist the opportunity of paying his devotions at the tombs of the
Kings he had served; and in the morning the whole party mustered by
the mosque and set out on their way northwards. Next day he would
be at Almella. Would anyone be alive who could recognise their once
prosperous master?