THE LAST TRAGEDY.
The eunuch reflected deeply on the strange adventures of the night. He
had known Osman Beg from boyhood, when he was the companion of Abbas
Khan. He knew the story of Abbas Khan's love for Zóra, and was present
at Osman Beg's trial before the durbar at Beejapoor, when Osman Beg was
banished, and it was strange that he should meet him again under such
circumstances. But he was not surprised that his hate for his cousin
continued in all its bitter virulence. The eunuch had been jealous
of Abbas Khan from the first, and he was now compelled to bear his
authority and submit to his directions; and such jealousy soon turns
to hate. He might make his own terms, perhaps, through Osman Beg, with
the Moghul general about the fort. Its possession would be an immense
assistance to the Emperor's plans, and its betrayal would be richly
rewarded. As to the Queen, he hated her because she had placed him in
a subordinate position under her minion; and what would it signify
what became of her? She was out of place now. There would be no great
difficulty in communicating with Osman Beg, and he trusted to his good
luck to carry on the intercourse that had been so strangely begun.
At his morning audience of the Queen the eunuch detailed the events of
the night, which were entirely corroborated by Sirkay. Both the Queen
and Abbas Khan, while they rebuked them for rashness, none the less
praised them for their act of valour; and the eunuch gave his opinion
that what he had seen was either the head of a new mine, or a shaft
into one which had been begun at a greater distance; and this was what
Abbas Khan dreaded. This was no noisy siege. On the contrary, the
silence was often oppressive; and the hum of thousands which filled
the enemy's camp, the boom of kettledrums, and the music which played
before the Royal pavilion, were for the most part the only sounds heard
from without; while from within there was nothing to fire at, and the
large stone shots from the mortars, which were dropped at random in the
direction of the enemy's camp, were frequently the only shots fired by
the gunners of the fort. It appeared to the soldiers of the garrison
as if the enemy were afraid to attack the fort as they had done on the
first occasion, and their vaunting and self-confidence were unbounded.
Whenever the Queen went abroad on her usual rounds on the walls, she
was met with assertions that the enemy were afraid; that the Moghuls
would some day abandon their fortress and march back as they came. But,
though she did not undeceive them, she became more and more anxious;
and, on his part, Abbas Khan well remembered what Khan Khanan had
impressed upon him at his interview with the Prince Moorad regarding
the first treaty, that if the siege were renewed, it would be by mines
under the fort itself, which would be destroyed with all it held; and
that this operation was now in progress there could be little doubt.
Alas! there was now no friendly voice to give them warning, as before,
of existing danger, and implore them not to make a useless sacrifice of
their lives. The proceedings were of the stern character of the eminent
soldier who directed them, who never knew sympathy for an enemy who
defied him.
How often Abbas Khan besought the Queen, even with tears, to save
herself and the King. It might be done; he felt assured that no
enterprise would be more welcome to the Mahratta Mawallees than
to carry her with them in a night sortie, and to conduct them by
bye-paths, and after their own fashion, to Joonair. Then it mattered
little what became of the fort. Those who remained could make terms,
and, in the western fastnesses, the King would be safe against all
attacks from without, and could rest securely till happier times. "As
to all you would leave behind, we should be in the hands of the Lord,"
he pleaded; "for as soon as you and the boy were gone, we might hold
out for a time as a point of honour, and make terms by which every life
would be saved. As to the treasure, let it perish, mother, if I could
not, as I might, offer a ransom for the fort. I say, let it perish.
Is there not enough for all in Chawund and Joonair to suffice for many
years?"
Thus, day by day, he pleaded, but still she would not listen. It seemed
to her a dishonourable act to desert those who had stood by her with
such valour and devotion all through her trials. What care or wish had
she for life, except with honour? What would be said of her, but that
the Queen who had fought the fearful "Battle of the Veil" had absconded
secretly from her people at night to save her own life, leaving all to
perish! No! if death were nigh, let it come to her there; she should be
blessed.
But there was restlessness in her mind which she could not overcome.
Zóra felt she had no longer power over her. She, too, had implored her
Royal mistress to save herself and the boy she now loved; and the boy's
mother, feeling that with the Queen he would be safe, had besought
Queen Chand not to think of her, whom no one would molest by herself,
and to carry him away to Joonair, which, against all attacks from
without, was impregnable. But, as we have said, the Queen's mind was
restless. She felt unable to decide on any course, and many arguments
on both sides impelled her first in one direction then, in another,
which were alike impossible to her on further thought; and she had only
to go out among the garrison to hear the old war cries of Beejapoor,
and her own country, to feel that she was yet a Queen, and, before God,
responsible for all, and no steps were taken either for flight with the
Mawallees, or to obtain terms from the Moghuls.
During this period Osman Beg had not been idle. He had contrived to see
the eunuch many times at night; and, after the first chance interview
with him, he had gone boldly to Khan Khanan, and had privately
communicated to him that he had an old Beejapoor friend in the fort,
who was, in fact, its commander, and that, if he were authorised, he
could enter into negotiations with him for its betrayal, or its capture
by surprise. Khan Khanan felt no scruple as to the means of attaining
possession of a place which had already cost him so dear, and the
capture of which by siege would probably extend so long; and the miners
were already complaining of the hardness of the ground in the mines on
which they most relied, which were to be sprung inside the walls, and
not without much risk and difficulty. Humeed Khan was brought to him
once, at night. Khan Khanan was then assured of the perfect condition
of the fort, the high spirits of the garrison, and the inflexible
determination of Abbas Khan to defend the place to the last extremity.
"He is searching for mines daily," said the eunuch, "and should one be
discovered, your whole work would be checked indefinitely."
"The difficulty, then, lies with the Queen and Abbas Khan," said the
general.
"It does," replied the eunuch; "but it is not insurmountable; and
I know for certain that if they are offered honourable terms of
capitulation, and permission to remove all property from the fort,
except guns and arms, they would agree to them."
"That would be impossible," said the general; "we have the game in
our own hands, and we are ready to play it out. What is a month, or
even more, to us? To them it is life or death. Were they to propose
terms, indeed, it would be very different; but I know nothing less
than unconditional surrender would satisfy the Emperor, and I am not
prepared to modify that. I suppose," he added with a sneer, "your
valiant Dekhanies would not give up their arms."
"They would not," said the eunuch; "and no one dare propose that to
them."
"Not even the Queen?"
"Not even she. Her life would be the instant forfeit."
"Now," continued the general, grimly, "suppose that such a report were
spread as would raise a tumult among your Dekhanies. We might take
advantage of it."
"You might, my lord."
"And we should be successful?"
"That I cannot answer for. It would depend upon yourselves."
"Not entirely, sir. You who command the Dekhanies might persuade them
to be neutral; to--to--in fact to throw themselves on the Royal
clemency. And suppose I assured you personally two lakhs of rupees for
the service, and through you all arrears of pay to your party, would
that suffice?"
"Take it, friend," said Osman Beg. "My lord will give the amount in
bills on Dehly or Guzerat, unless thou wait the issue and receive it
here in cash. Thou canst not carry away the coin, and we cannot send
it."
"I am content," said the eunuch, "for the service I shall render to the
Emperor, whose name be honoured, to receive whatever may be given of
his own gracious bounty."
"And remember," said the general, "that I have nothing to do with the
results if the Dekhanies rise in mutiny. All that rests with them and
you."
"I take the responsibility, my lord. I wish only for peace."
"You have forgotten me, Humeed Khan," said Osman Beg angrily, as they
left the tent.
"Not so, friend," said the eunuch. "What I purpose will cause much
confusion. The gallery of the counterscarp will be deserted, and thou
knowest the way into the sally ports. Who will distinguish friends
from enemies? Thou must do thy part, and I shall be able to aid thee.
Fear not, one who desires a fair woman must needs do something to get
her. More I cannot say; be ready on my signal, and join me. There will
be enough of screaming women, and who will heed if one among them is
carried away in a blanket? Surely thou hast some of thy old dare
devils to help thee. If not, give up the girl."
"I cannot, and will not; she is my fate," returned Osman Beg, moodily;
and for the time they separated.
For several days Abbas Khan had been diligent in his search for mines.
Shafts had been sunk, and one was at last discovered which led directly
under the palace. It was not loaded, and no one was guarding it; but
the chamber was ready, and it could have been charged at any time.
Abbas Khan, and some others with him, explored it; and, covered with
dust and dirt as he was, he went direct to the Queen to tell her of it.
"It will be destroyed," he said; "and even now the masons are at work
building up the gallery with stones. But who can say, Mother, how many
more there may be, or where they are? I have ordered cross cuttings to
be carried on; but the ground is nearly rock, and the Moghul miners
have skilfully followed a soft vein which they discovered, and have
never quitted. Mother! Mother! hear my last prayer to thee. Arise, and
flee the place with the boy. When night falls, I will be with ye and
guide ye forth."
"And leave ye all behind to perish? I cannot do it!" said the noble
Queen, with a calm, serene expression on her countenance; "but if all
could be saved, I should be grateful. I have thought over the subject
night and day since it was broken between us, and this is my final
determination. I am prepared for death if it should come, but not for
flight, and, to my perception, dishonour. Go, see to the mine; trace
others if it be possible, and to-morrow I will save all if I can. And,"
she added, with a confident smile, "I think I shall be successful.
There is no dishonour in what the Lord hath put into my mind, and all
our dear ones may be happy. Where is Zóra? Does she know of the mine?"
"No," he said, "and I will not tell her, since that danger is past."
"Then send her to me, Meeah; I would speak with her;" and he went out.
The Queen was alone in her private chamber, musing over what she
purported to do. She would address the Prince Daniel himself, laying
before him her desire to prevent the sacrifice of life, and offering
him possession of the fort and all public property, on the condition
that the garrison should march out with the honours of war.
Zóra entered as the Queen had reviewed all this in her mind, and her
mistress could not help being struck with her unusual beauty and
brightness. Her hair had escaped, and hung in massive waves about
her shoulders; her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes sparkling with
excitement.
"Oh, we have had such fun, mother; the children have been romping
together, and I and some of the girls were as mad as any of them. I
would thou hadst been there. But why art thou so grave: there is no bad
news?"
"I have a grave task to do, daughter," she replied. "Get thy writing
materials, and I will dictate. Thou canst be trusted; but I fear the
secretaries, and what I tell thee must be secret till all know it." And
Zóra wrote.
"And now read it all over to me again, child. While it was in my mind
the purport seemed uncertain; but now that it is on paper, methinks it
is clear enough." And when Zóra had read the paper, which was only a
few short paragraphs, the Queen bade her make a fair copy.
"What should I do without thee, darling?" she said. "Now go and play
with the children again; but be within call."
"Is Humeed Khan without?" asked the Queen of an attendant eunuch. "If
so, tell him I wish to speak with him;" and he entered soon after, and
sat down, making his usual salutation.
"And the mine hath been discovered," said the Queen, "under the very
palace. Hast thou heard of it?"
"I have," he said. "It was dangerous; but Abbas Khan has already
prevented mischief, and is searching for others."
"And the garrison; what said they?"
"There was some excitement at first, but it has subsided. All they
cried was that they would defend the fort to the last, and you should
lead them to victory, as you did when they followed the Standard of the
Veil."
"Ah!" said the Queen, with a sigh, "those were different times. Many
were with me then who have since become traitors, and done the State
irreparable injury. I have, I know, many faithful about me, but can I
trust all?"
For an instant Humeed Khan thought that the remark was made for him,
and the blood rushed to his dark face, almost causing it to glow. But
the Queen continued--
"As I was musing upon this, Khan, it occurred to me to write a draft
of a proposal to the Prince, to allow all here to pass free with their
effects, and to give up the fort, which appears no longer tenable, to
him, on behalf of his father. And we would fain have your opinion, as
that of one of the most faithful of our officers, wise in counsel and
brave in action. Read this draft, which no one but myself knows of,
except her who wrote it fairly for me, and give thy opinion freely. I
would save life if I can, and this appears to me the only course to
pursue. Those who know me, even my enemies, will not charge me with any
other motive."
Humeed Khan took the paper with a reverential gesture, and carefully
perused it. As he read it he could hardly conceal his exultation and
agitation. What it would have taken me days, nay weeks, to effect, he
thought, she has done with her own hand, and of her own device. Surely
now her time is come. Let her perish.
"It will be dangerous, lady," he said, with an affected calmness. "In
their present temper the Dekhanies are not safe, and the last thing
they think of is surrender. If they were to mutiny, who could stay
them?"
But the Queen shook her head. "They know me and have trusted me, and I
know them and trust them now. Believe me, when they know all, they will
be satisfied I have done the best; but if--"
"I hear some voices without," he said, hurriedly, interrupting her.
"Perhaps another mine has been discovered; perhaps----, but your slave
will return immediately." And he hastily quitted the room.
The Queen could hear no voices then without, and she sat thinking on
what she had heard. There was danger, then, even from within; and those
on whom she most relied might indeed, if excited, be her worst enemies.
"If it be so," she said to herself, "I need not send this letter; but
meet death here, or do as Meeah wishes me. And yet, no. Not that--not
that; better death than flight!"
Suddenly a loud tumult of voices arose, and seemed to be approaching
the palace by the plain in front. "It is this he heard," she said, and
waited, with her heart throbbing. "They come close now."
It was Humeed Khan who had rushed out, as he left the Queen, into the
great square where soldiers were exercising, and casting his turban
on the ground, took up handfuls of dust, flinging it into the air, and
crying, "Ye are betrayed! ye are betrayed, brothers! The Queen Chand is
in treaty for the surrender of the fort! Deen, deen! She is not fit to
live. Deen, deen! Follow me to her presence!" And he fired the rocket
which was always ready for signals at the entrance.
There was no hesitation. At once, and with infuriated cries of
"Treachery! treachery!" the mass surged into the great hall of audience
with drawn swords, crying, "Where is the Queen? Cut her to pieces!"
The Queen had not moved except to rise from her seat, and she stood
with her lips parted and her eyes distended with an absent fascination.
How often in her life had a word from her quelled the wildest
tumult--how often had her excitable people calmed down; but now? And
yet for a moment the foremost were awed by the presence all had loved
and venerated; but only for a moment. Humeed Khan, with a vile oath,
rushed on and cut furiously at her with his sword, and others followed
his example.
The noble woman fell covered with desperate wounds, but she still
breathed; and Zóra, who had been at first appalled by the tumult,
caught up her child in her arms, gave him to his nurse, and rushed to
her beloved mistress's side. One ruffian would have struck her; but
another said, "It is Abbas Khan's wife; let her be."
She raised the Queen's head and tried to give her water from the vessel
which always stood at her side, but the Queen put her hand aside
gently, and smiled. "This is death, my child. I hear--I hear--the
angel--call," she gasped. "Lord!--I come;" and murmuring the Belief her
head sank, and with a last sigh she breathed no more. The noble Queen's
spirit was gone for ever.
Just then a number of other men rushed into the small apartment with
their faces tied up, and in a moment Zóra found herself covered by a
blanket and borne away among the crowd which was roaming through the
palace, plundering all that could be found. She screamed, but what
voice could be heard in that tumult? for there were thousands there,
and still others swarmed into the great hall; but rescue was at hand.
Abbas Khan, when he had left the Queen, went back to the shaft of the
mine; but as the workmen told him there was nothing more to be done
at present but to continue the work that had been begun, he sat there
encouraging the miners, and a number of his own guards, his faithful
Beejapoor men, gathered about him. He heard the first shouts of the
tumult, and all ran to the wall thinking there might be a sudden
assault, but a man ran up, and cried, "To the palace! to the palace!
The Queen is attacked!" and, led by their master, the whole body ran
thither at their utmost speed. It needed but a glance to see what had
taken place.
"Who did this?" cried Abbas Khan. "What vile traitor did this foul
deed?"
"Humeed Khan," said a eunuch boy, who was sitting by the body of the
Queen, weeping; "I saw him strike her first. And they have taken away
Zóra-bee, and little Meeah is crying. Bring her back."
It hardly needed these words to urge the Khan on. Near the entrance of
the audience hall he saw something covered with black being carried
along, and the mass of his powerful men charging through the crowd soon
came up with it. Osman Beg's covering had fallen from his face, but
he did not see his cousin at first, nor till he was suddenly pulled
back did he think he would be recognised; but he immediately attacked
Abbas Khan with his sword. Neither spoke a word, but the ruffian had no
chance of life, and lay dead at his cousin's feet almost before he had
realised his presence.
"My poor darling," said the Khan, as he released Zóra from her bonds,
"this is no place for thee. Go to Meeah. But thou art safe--blessed be
Alla, thou art safe!" Truly it was no place for her. The floor around
was a pool of blood, and the bodies of some strangers, among whom were
several negro slaves, lay there in ghastly death with their master.
Zóra cast one shuddering glance on the horrible group, and, covering
her face, hurried back to her child, trembling and terror-stricken.
Meanwhile Yasin, with another body of the guard, had found Humeed Khan
hiding in an ante-room, and brought him, with his arms tied together at
his back, to the spot where Abbas Khan stood. "He did it! He did it!"
cried a thousand voices. "Let him die!"
"Thou art not worthy of a soldier's death," said Abbas Khan, "but of a
felon's. Yet, if thou wilt, say why thou didst this foul crime? What
had she done to thee, who was thy benefactress for years?"
"It matters not why I did it," was the sullen reply. "I did it, and rid
the world of one who had vexed it too long;" and he spoke no more. Then
some men, taking him up, put a noose round his neck, and, throwing the
end of the rope over the branch of a tree, left him to wrestle out his
life in the air.
By this time the rest of the Abyssinians, the Arabs, and other
foreigners, had assembled in the square, and the majority of the
Dekhanies, who were deploring the Queen's murder with passionate
weeping, separated quietly, crying to Abbas Khan to lead them against
the Moghuls, for they were true to their King, of whom he was now the
only protector.