I had not seen Bhudrinath now for some days, and fearing he might think
me neglectful, I went to the serai in which he and the men had put up.
"Ah!" cried he, when he saw me approach, "so we are at last permitted
to see the light of your countenance; what, in the name of Bhowanee,
have you been about? I have sought you in vain for the last three days."
"Tell me," said I, "what you have been doing, and you shall know my
adventures afterwards."
"Well, then," said he, "in the first place, I have made a series of
poojahs and sacrifices at the different temples around this most
Mahomedan of cities; secondly, I have seen and mixed in the Mohorum;
and lastly, I have assisted to kill seven persons."
"Killed seven persons!" I exclaimed in wonder, "how, in the name of the
Prophet, did you manage that?"
"Nothing more easy, my gay young jemadar," he replied: "do you not know
that this is the Karwan, where travellers daily arrive in numbers,
and from which others are as frequently departing? Nothing is easier
than to beguile them to accompany us a short distance, pretending
that we are going the same road: why a Thug might live here for ever,
and get a decent living. The people (my blessings on them!) are most
unsuspicious; and, thanks to Hunooman and his legions, there is
no want of rocks and wild roads about the city, which give capital
opportunities for destroying them."
"Ajaib!" I exclaimed, "this is very wonderful; and who were they?"
"Not in the least extraordinary," said Bhudrinath coolly, "if you think
on it;--but to answer your question. The first was a Bunnea who was
going to Beeder; we took him to Golconda, and buried him among the
tombs, and we got seventy rupees and some pieces of gold from him.
The second were two men and their wives, who said they were going
to Koorungul: where that is Bhugwan knows! but it is somewhere in a
southerly direction. We killed them about three coss from the city,
among some rocks, and left them there."
"That was wrong," said I, "you should have buried them."
"Not at all wrong, my friend; who will take the trouble of inquiring
after them? Besides, we had not time, for the day had fully dawned,
and we feared interruption from travellers; we got above two hundred
rupees, and two ponies, which I have sold for thirty rupees."
"Well," said I, "these make five; and the other two?"
"They lie there," said Bhudrinath, pointing to where a horse was
picketed; "they were poor devils, and not worth the trouble of taking
out; we only got forty-two rupees from both."
"Dangerous work," said I; "you might have been seen."
"Oh, no fear of an old hand like me; every one was off to the city to
gape at the show, and we were left alone. I was deliberating whether we
should not accompany them on the road we came in by, and by which they
were going; but Surfuraz Khan cut short my doubts and uncertainties by
strangling one fellow on the spot, and I followed his example with the
other; the bodies were concealed till night, and then buried."
"But is there no fear of the grave bursting?" I asked. He laughed.
"Fear! oh no, they lie deep enough; and you know our old tricks."
"Well," said I, "it is most satisfactory, and I have missed all this,
have been a fool, and have lost my mistress into the bargain."
Bhudrinath laughed immoderately; but seeing the gravity of my face, he
said, "Never mind, Meer Sahib, care not for my merriment; but truly thy
face wore so lackadaisical an expression, that for my life I could not
have refrained. Cheer up, man, there is plenty of work in store for
you; women will be faithless, and young and hot-brained fellows will
grieve for them; but take a friend's advice, make your profession your
mistress, and she at least will never disappoint you."
"Your advice is good," said I; "nevertheless the mistress I have lost
is, as you know, worthy of regret, and I shall miss her for many a day.
But tell me, what have you now in hand,--anything in which I may have a
share?"
"Why no," he replied, "nothing; but if you are so inclined, we will
take a ramble this evening through the bazars, we may perhaps pick up
somebody."
"Of course I will be with you, for in truth my hand will get out of
practice if I neglect work. But have you seen my father?"
"I have not," said Bhudrinath; "I hear he is very much engaged about
the property, and do not like to disturb him."
"You are right, he is," said I; "but he will finish all to-day, and get
the money. I suppose after that we shall not stay long here, and for my
part I care not how soon we set off; I am anxious for new scenes and
adventures, and we are not likely to do much here. Is not Surfuraz Khan
here?"
"No; he is gone with a party of seven travellers towards Puttuncherroo,
and has taken ten or fifteen of the best of the men with him; he will
not be back probably before night, if then."
"Who were the travellers?"
"Bunneas, I heard," said Bhudrinath carelessly; "I did not see them
myself, and Surfuraz Khan was in too great a hurry to give me any
information."
"Out upon me!" I exclaimed, vexed at my idleness; "here have I been
amusing myself while all this has been going on: for the sake of the
Prophet, let us do something soon, that I may settle scores with my
conscience, for I have hardly assurance enough to look you in the face
after my behaviour."
"Well," said he, "come this evening; if we can't decoy any one, we will
kill somebody for amusement and practice."
"I agree," said I; "for by Alla! I must do something. I am as
melancholy as a camel, and my blood, which boiled enough yesterday,
seems now scarcely to run through me;--it is not to be borne."
I found when I reached home that the dullal had arrived, and with him
the sahoukar's clerk, and some porters to carry the goods, as well as
fellows with matchlocks and lighted matches, and others with swords and
shields, to escort them. I stared at them. "One would think you were
going to battle, Séthjee," said I, "with all those fierce fellows; I am
half afraid of them."
The fellows laughed; and the clerk replied, "They are necessary, and we
always have them. If our goods were stolen, nay, carried off before our
eyes, should we get any redress? no indeed: we therefore protect our
property the best way we can."
"Now," said my father, "take your goods and be off with them; they are
no longer mine, and I fear to allow them to remain under my roof."
"Surely," said the clerk, "they will be out of your way directly; and
now let us speak about your money, or will you take some merchandise as
part of it?"
"Not a bit, not a bit," replied my father; "I want all my money in
rupees--no, stay, not all in rupees; give me five thousand in silver
and the rest in gold, it will be easier carried."
"I suppose you mean five thousand rupees, and the rest in gold bars;
well, you must purchase gold according to weight, and the best is
twenty rupees a tola;--but you had better take bills, and the exchange
is favourable."
"No, no; no bills," said my father, "but the gold. If I remember
rightly, the price of gold was high when I left Delhi, and was likely
to remain so; and I have plenty of persons for my guard if robbers
should attack me."
"You forget me," cried the dullal, "and my percentage."
"Make yourself easy," said I; "it will be paid out of the five thousand
rupees; it will be about fifteen hundred, I think."
"What did you say? fifteen hundred! to whom?" asked the clerk.
"To this dullal," said I; "I suspect the rascal is cheating us."
"Cheating! surely he is; why Mohun Das, good man, what have you been
about? are you mad, to ask so much?"
"Ah, it was my lord's offer and promise," said he, "and surely I shall
now get it! pray what business is it of yours?"
"What ought he to have?" asked my father.
"One per cent. is ample," replied the other: "and you might have saved
this too, if you had only applied yourself to the different sahoukars."
"We were strangers," said I, "and knew not their places of residence;
so we were obliged to have recourse to this rascal, who offered his
services."
"What! did you not take me from the Char-Minar? did you not promise me
five per cent., and bind me to secrecy about the sale of your goods?"
cried the dullal.
"Listen to him," said my father; "he raves. Now, Meer Sahib, did not
this bhurwa come begging and beseeching for employment, and when I
said I would try him, and asked his terms, he said he was miserably
poor, and would take whatever was given him; was it not so? And now,
Punah-i-Khoda, we are to be bearded in this manner, defrauded of
fifteen hundred rupees, where we have not as many cowrees to give, and
made to eat dirt into the bargain. Beat him on the mouth with a shoe!
spit on him! may he be defiled so that Ganges water would not purify
him! may his mother, sisters, and all his female relatives be----"
"Nay, my good friend," said the sahoukar's clerk, "be not thus rash and
hot-headed, nor waste your breath upon so mean a wretch; since you have
employed him, something must be given, it is the custom, and next time
you will know better; say, may I pay him the one per cent., which will
be three hundred and six rupees?"
"Three hundred and six rupees! Alla, Alla! where am I to get the half?"
cried my father: "for the love of the Prophet, get me off what you can;
I swear by your head and eyes that I am a poor man, and only an agent;
is it not so, Meer Sahib? am I not miserably poor?"
"You certainly cannot afford to pay so much money as one per cent.
on this large sum," I replied; "nevertheless, as such appears to be
the custom, you had better give something, say one hundred and fifty
rupees."
"Certainly," said my father; "I am ready; I will not refuse anything in
reason; but so large a sum--I was quite astounded at the impertinence
of the demand, and lost my temper, like a fool."
Mohun Das stood all this time with his eyes and mouth wide open,
looking from one to the other, every word that was uttered increasing
his astonishment and disappointment. "Do you pretend to say," screamed
he at last, "do you pretend to say that I am not to get my money, my
fifteen hundred rupees, for which I have toiled night and day? And do
you pretend to say I came to you first? did you not take me with you
from the Char-Minar?"
"Nay, here is the Char-Minar again; for the sake of Alla," said I to
the clerk, "if you really know this fellow, advise him to be quiet;
what have I, who am a soldier, to do with his filthy traffic; he may
provoke a patient man once too often, and people with weapons in their
hands are not safe persons to play jokes with;" and I twisted up my
mustachios.
I have told you, Sahib, what a coward the fellow was: he fell instantly
on the ground and rubbed his forehead against the floor. "Pardon!
pardon!" he cried, "most brave sirs! anything, whatever you choose to
give me, even ten rupees, will be thankfully received, but do not kill
me, do not put me to death;--see, I fall at your feet, I rub my nose in
the dust."
"You fool," cried the clerk, holding his sides with laughter, for he
was a fat man; "you fool; ah, Mohun Das, that I should have seen this!
In the name of Narayun, who will do you any harm? Are you a child--you,
with those mustachios? Shame on you, man; dullal as you are, be
something less of a coward; get up, ask for your money boldly, ask for
whatever these gentlemen please to give you, though indeed you deserve
nothing for your impertinent attempt at deception."
He got up and stood on his left leg, with the sole of the right foot
against the calf, his hands joined, his turban all awry, and the
expression of his face most ludicrously miserable.
"Ten rupees, my lord," he faltered out; "your slave will take ten
rupees." We all once more burst into a peal of laughter; the Gomashta's
sides appeared to ache, and the tears ran down his cheeks.
"Ai Bhugwan! Ai Narayun!" cried he, catching his breath; "that I should
have seen this; Ai Sitaram! but it is most amusing. Ten rupees! why
man," said he to the miserable dullal, "you just now wanted fifteen
hundred!"
"Nay," said my father, "let him have his due; you said one hundred and
fifty,--that he shall have; do you, Meer Sahib, go with this worthy
sahoukar to his kothee, and bring the money; I dare say he will give
you a guard back, and you can hire a porter for the gold and silver."
"Certainly, you shall have the men," said the Gomashta: "and now come
along; I shall have to collect the gold, and it may be late before
it can be weighed and delivered to you, and the rupees passed by a
suraff." As we went on, the dullal said to me, "You will pay me at the
kothee, will you not?"
"We will see," said I; "the money is none of mine, and I will ask
advice on the subject."
"Not your money! Whose then?"
"Why his who has employed you, and from whom you are to get one hundred
and fifty rupees," I said; "are you a fool? Why do you ask?"
"Ah nothing, only I was thinking--"
"Thinking of what?" I asked; "some rascality I doubt not."
"Ah," said he, "now you speak as you did at the Char-Minar."
"By Alla!" said I, stopping and looking at him, "if ever you mention
that word again--"
"Never, never!" cried the wretch, trembling; "do not beat me; remember
it is the open street, and there will be a disturbance; the words
escaped me unawares, just as I was thinking--"
"That is twice you have said that, and by Alla! I think you have some
meaning in it; what _would_ you be at?"
"Nothing, nothing," said he; "only I was thinking--"
"Well!"
"I was only thinking that you are an adventurer, who has accompanied
that rich merchant from Hindostan."
"Well, and what of that? you knew that before."
"You are not rich?"
"No indeed," said I, "I am not."
"Then," said the wretch, "why not both of us enrich ourselves."
"How?" I asked.
"Refuse the guard, or take some men I will guide you to; they will do
whatever you like for five rupees a piece; we will fly with the money,
and there is a place in the rocks close to this where I have plunder
hidden--we will go thither and share it."
"Where is the place you allude to--is it far?" I asked.
"No," said he; "will you come? I can show it you from a distance;
we need not get up the rocks--there is danger of being seen in the
daytime."
I followed him for a little distance, and he pointed to a huge pile of
rocks at the back of the Karwan and Begum Bazar. "There, do you see a
white spot about half-way up on a rock?"
"I do," said I.
"That is the spot," he replied; "it is known but to myself and a few
others; whatever I can pick up I put there."
"What do you get?"
"Ah, little enough; sometimes a shawl, a brocade handkerchief, or some
gold, anything in fact. But why do you ask? Will you do what I said and
join us? there are sixteen of us; one is yonder disguised as a Fakeer,
the rest are hard by and will accompany us."
"Dog!" cried I, dashing him to the earth, "dog! dost thou know to whom
thou speakest? Here there is no one," (for we had got to the back of
the houses,) "and it were an easy task to send thee to Jehanum; one
blow of my sword, and that false tongue would cease to speak for ever:"
and I half drew it. I knew the effect this would have: there was the
same grovelling cowardice he had displayed before! he clung to my
knees; I spurned him and spit on him. "Reptile!" cried I at length,
wearied by his abjectness, "I would scorn to touch thee: a Syud of
Hindostan is too proud to stoop to such game as thou art; lead me to
the Sahoukar, for by Alla I distrust thee!"
"Nay, in this matter I have been honest," said the wretch; "the money
is sure."
"It will be well for thee that it is," said I, "or I swear to be
revenged; lead on, and beware how you go; if I see one attempt at
escape I will cut you in two, were it in the middle of the bazar."
"Then follow me closely," said he; and he gathered up his garments,
which had become disordered, and we again entered the crowded bazar. We
were soon at the Sahoukar's, who awaited us: the money and gold were
told out, and a receipt I had brought with me given, and accompanied by
the guard of soldiers I took the treasure to my father.
"Meer Sahib, kind Meer Sahib," said the Dullal, as we approached our
dwelling, "you will forget all that has passed; Bhugwan knows I was
only jesting with you; I love to play such tricks,--nay, I have always
been of a jesting disposition:" and he laughed in his terror. "You will
not forget my little perquisite, my hundred and fifty rupees, I know
you will not."
"Peace!" cried I, "if you wish to get a cowree. Has it not been
promised to thee on the word of two of the faithful? Thou shalt get the
uttermost farthing."
I dismissed the sepoys with a small present when the money had been
lodged in our strong-room, and as they went, the miserable Dullal
looked after them as though he thought with them had departed his last
chance for existence. It certainly drew to a close. "Give me my money
and let me depart," said he in a hollow voice.
"Wait," said I, "till it is counted out for you."
"Ah, I had forgotten the Dullaljee," cried my father; "I will get out
his due."