CHAPTER XLIV.

He returned after some time, bringing with him a small casket, and

leading by the hand a noble-looking boy, whom he presented to me as his

son, his firstborn. He was about twelve years of age, intelligent in

feature, and withal handsome, and possessing a confidence of manner I

had never seen surpassed. "Alla has been merciful to you, my friend,"

said I; "and the Sahib Zadah is worthy of his sire. I had a son too

once, who promised to be such a one as the boy before me; but it was

His will! and I have now a lonely house. Yet why obtrude my griefs upon

a stranger? You have doubtless other flowers of the same tree."

"There are three of them," said the merchant, "and they are the pride

of my existence; for, after all, what is wealth? what is honour? what

is well-doing or respect in the world, without some one to inherit it,

and to tell of his father to yet unborn generations? And you are yet

young. Why be without hope? Alla will not fail to listen to the prayers

of a devout Syud."

"Alas!" said I, "I think not of it. A girl remains to me, who is

contracted in marriage to the son of a worthy neighbour, and upon her

rest my hopes at present. It is on her account that I seek a few pearls

for the marriage ceremonies."

"And they are here, Meer Sahib; pearls from Surat and from

Serendeeb,--jewels that a monarch might be proud to wear." And he

opened the casket, and displayed its beautiful contents to my admiring

eyes.

"They are indeed beautiful," said I; "but a poor soldier like myself

has little to do with such costly ornaments. Show me, I pray you, a

few of a lower price, such as will suit my present wants, which do not

reach further than three hundred rupees' worth."

He selected a string, and held them out to me; they were what I really

required, and the purchase was quickly concluded. Still, however, the

glittering strings lay before me; and as I took up one in particular of

great beauty, from the evenness of the pearls and their bright water, I

said, as if involuntarily, "Would that my patron could see these!"

"Eh! what?" cried the merchant. "Do you think he would purchase them?"

"Assuredly," said I; "for shortly before I left Jhalone the Rajah was

in the greatest need of pearls, and sent hither and thither for them,

but without success; none were to be procured; and he was even talking

of sending to Surat for some; but the length of the journey, and the

risk, put the matter out of his head."

The merchant mused for awhile. At last he said, "And you really think

he would purchase them?"

"I do. His daughter will be married next year, and he is collecting

jewels for the ceremony."

"They are very beautiful," said the merchant, taking up the string,

"are they not? I have had them now for two years, and no one here is

rich enough to purchase them; yet they are cheap, I swear by your beard

they are, and I look for but little profit upon them."

"The price?" I asked.

"From a poor man, like you, Meer Sahib, a Syud and a soldier, I would

take six thousand rupees, but from a Rajah and an infidel I would ask

eight."

"Good," said I. "Now listen to me. I am, as you say, poor; and I have

the heavy expense of this marriage coming upon me. What say you to

accepting my aid, and taking the pearls to Jhalone and selling them

there? The Rajah is much guided by me; and if I get him to pay eight

thousand rupees, you will pay me back the three hundred I now owe you

for those I have purchased? Turn it over in your mind, and tell me your

determination."

"Jhalone is a long way," said the merchant; "and if I sell my pearls,

how am I to get back with the money? Thieves will hear of the

transaction, and I may be waylaid and murdered."

"Fear not," replied I; "be at rest on that score. To one who has come

so far from his home to oblige him, the Rajah will give an escort to

return. Of this I am confident; and if this is all that prevents your

making the determination to accompany me, you had better dismiss it

from your mind at once."

"I will consult the astrologer," said he.

"Nay, Shekhjee," I replied, "this is too ridiculous. What have we

true believers to do with astrologers? The man you would consult is a

Hindoo, and there is abomination in the very word. Besides, what danger

is there? I have some fifty men with me, my own attendants, and the

Rajah's sepoys, therefore no harm can come to you; as for your return,

you will have a few horsemen, who will afford you ample protection.

Again, you said you have had the necklace for two years, and never had

an offer for it; why, therefore, keep your money unemployed? Be wise,

man, and come with me."

"Yes, father," said the lad, "listen to what the brave Meer Sahib says;

and I will accompany you, and see the world beyond our town. You know

you have promised to take me with you the first journey you make."

"Well, it is very tempting, certainly," said the merchant. "Eight

thousand rupees, you said, Meer Sahib? That is worth going for, and

these baubles are useless to me here. To tell you the truth," continued

he, "I got them from a Pindharee, who served with Cheetoo, or Dost

Mahomed, I know not which; he kept them as long as he could, but the

Lubhurs were broken up by the Feringhees (a sad blow to our free

trade), and though a few horsemen, his own followers, stuck to him, yet

he had nothing to give them; at last, when they became mutinous, and

threatened his life for their pay, he was obliged to sell these, and I

was the purchaser."

"And you got them cheap?" said I.

"Yes, they were not dear, Meer Sahib; a man in necessity rarely drives

a hard bargain. I got them cheap; and yet I swear to you that they are

cheap at eight thousand rupees. I say this from experience: for I have

sold worse to Mahdajee Sindia himself for ten thousand: but he will not

purchase now, and they lie heavy on my hands."

"All, therefore, considered, Shekhjee," said I, "you had by far better

accompany me to Jhalone. As to the journey, a month will see you back

again; the season is favourable for travel; and as we are a strong

party, and march by night, you will never be incommoded by the sun."

"Well, Meer Sahib, I have almost determined; but it will be necessary

to tell those inside," and he pointed with his thumb to the zenana;

"and as you said you had to go to the kotwal on some business, if you

could look in here after it is all over, about the time of evening

prayer, I shall be able to give you a decisive answer. Much as we

affect to despise women, you know, I dare say, Meer Sahib, that it

makes one uncomfortable to undertake anything, more especially a

journey, without consulting them."

"As you will," said I; "I am indifferent about the matter; it is for

your good alone that I have offered this counsel; and in this world

of infidelity and selfishness it is refreshing to the heart either

to assist a brother Moslem, or to be assisted by one without selfish

motives. Alla Hafiz! I take my leave, and I will return by the Moghreb,

and bring the money for my pearls." I left him.

"Is he to be bunij?" again asked the Thug.

"Peace, fool!" said I, laughing; "he has gorged the bait, but the hook

is not yet struck. Wait. Inshalla! Ameer Ali is not the son of an owl

or a jackass; and, Inshalla! we will yet throw dirt on his beard, for

all he is so cautious."

I had no business with the kotwal, as you may have imagined. I rode to

my tent, and assembling the leaders of the band, developed to them my

plans, and gave them instructions as to their demeanour and conduct

before our new guest in prospect: this done, I was easy about the rest.

If he came!--It was almost too much to hope for; yet I had confidence

in myself and in my fate. And the boy! that beautiful boy!--I had (for

once) no heart to be a participator in his death. "I must not allow

him to accompany us," I said to myself; "enough that the house is made

desolate by the death of the father." I was thus musing when Laloo came

to me.

"You are mad, Meer Sahib," said he; "this plan is not feasible. Bunij

met with on the road is well enough; but to drag a man out of his

house, as I may say, to destroy him, is too bad; and I do not think it

is justifiable."

"Ha!" cried I; "so you are turned against me. How is this?"

"God forbid that you should say so, Meer Sahib; but look at the matter.

You are known in the town, people have seen you enter the house of the

merchant, and they will know that he accompanies you. Will they not

hunt us out?"

"You are an owl," said I, laughing: "trust me, there is no fear; and

as for taking the man out of his house, I tell thee I see no more

difference in it than in having met him on the road in a regular way.

Let me alone, I know my work, and when we have got him, you shall

yourself applaud what I have done."

"Nay, it was but a friendly remonstrance," said he; "and as you feel

confident, go on with the matter. He will be good bunij?"

"Assuredly, to the tune of some thousand rupees. By Alla! I was tired

of the humdrum work we have been at lately, and my blood stagnated in

my veins. This has stirred it, and I have set myself to the work. You

know I seldom fail."

"Seldom, indeed, Meer Sahib; but can I do aught?"

"Yes, you can," said I: "follow me at a little distance, and note the

house. The fool I am after will depend on his astrologer for a good day

to quit his home. I am sure of this, for he said he would; and he took

my bantering against it with an ill grace. Find out his servants, and

from them the Brahmin; take money with you and pay him. There is enough

of daylight yet, and remember to-morrow morning is to be a lucky one,

and the next a bad one. Mind this, and do your best, for much depends

upon it--nay, everything."

"On my head and eyes be it!" said he; "and therefore, Meer Sahib, I

pray you accompany me even now, better in disguise perhaps, and show me

the house. Leave the rest to me, and I will not fail."

"A good thought," said I. "The sun will not set for the next four

hours; I can easily return and equip myself afresh." So saying, I

stripped myself of my fine clothes, put on others which were soiled and

dirty, tied up my face, except my eyes, and tucking my sword under my

arm, looked as disreputable a brawler or smoker of ganja as any in the

good town of Tearee.

"Come," said I, "our errand is soon done;" and so it was. We walked

past the house, and I left my ally at the corner of the street, with a

hundred rupees in his waistband, and a cunning heart in his breast.

I returned, and re-dressing myself, I mounted my horse, and took my way

to the merchant's, with the money I owed him. I found him in the same

spot; but as the evening was sultry, he led me to the terrace of his

house, where carpets had been spread for our convenience. I paid my

money, and received the pearls, and then entered upon the main object

of my visit.

"You will go then, Shekhjee?" said I; "or is your mind against it?"

"Not at all, not at all," replied he. "It is my wish to go,--my great

wish, Meer Sahib; but when I mentioned it in my zenana, though the

proposition met with no opposing words or tears, they one and all

declared that a lucky day must be fixed, without which it would be

clearly of no use my going at all. You know what women are, Meer

Sahib; suffice it to say, that I could not overcome their scruples;

for the more I argued and persuaded, the more strongly they opposed;

and in fact, the matter became so serious, that to pacify them--mind

you--to pacify them--I sent ten rupees to a Brahmin who lives hard

by, who is a noted astrologer, and the only one here in whom any

confidence is placed. Alla is my witness, I cared not what he said;

but when a message came back to say that to-morrow was an unlucky

day, the whole Zenan-khana, wives, slaves, and asseels, set up such

a howl of lamentation at what might have happened, and afterwards of

congratulation at my having escaped the threatened evil, that I was

fairly stunned, and have given up the idea of the journey for to-morrow

at any rate. But you know, Meer Sahib, to-morrow's conjunction of

planets may have a different effect, and as you will stay"----

"Indeed, Shekhjee," said I, "I cannot stay. Here have I idled away

three whole days, and I can remain no longer, for time is precious to

me. My patron will even now wonder what has delayed me; and to lose

his favour will be the loss of my means of maintenance. So to-morrow

I start, most assuredly, whether you come or not. And as to your

accompanying me, that is your matter; I am perfectly indifferent to it,

except that I shall lose your pleasant society on the road."

He was fairly perplexed. He had evidently reckoned on my stay; but my

careless yet determined manner of speaking left him no hope of a change

in my opinions; and, as a Persian would have said, he held "the finger

of deliberation between the teeth of impatient desire." There he sat

for a long time, looking on the ground in silence. It was a struggle

between the love of gain and superstition; for though he had wished

me to believe the contrary, he was as fully imbued with the belief of

lucky and unlucky days as any of his wives, slaves, or asseels. At

length he said:

"Meer Sahib, you remember our agreement--the two hundred rupees? I

will make it another hundred if you stay one more day. You are a poor

man, and a hundred rupees will buy many clothes for your daughter's

marriage."

Here was a direct attempt to cheat me out of a hundred rupees; and, for

the latter part of his speech, I could have strangled him on the spot.

Yet I kept my temper: I was playing too deep a game to lose it, and for

a trifle too.

"No, Shekh," said I, "it cannot be; I would not for a thousand rupees

stay an hour after daylight to-morrow: you cannot tempt me. But have

you ever thought that your Nujoomee may have played you false, and that

it requires a few more rupees than ten to make the heavens propitious?

I have heard of such things, ay, and proved them too, or perhaps I

might believe in the aspect of the stars as you do."

"Ay! say you so, my friend?" cried he. "By Alla I would beat the rogue

with a shoe in his own temple, with a shoe of cow's leather too, if

I could think he was trying to cheat me; but that is impossible. How

can he help the position of the stars? And yet say, shall I send more

money?"

"No," said I, "surely not; if he is honest, he will fling it in your

servant's face; if he is a rogue, he will keep it, and send word that

the stars have changed; in the first case you will eat dirt, in the

second you will be cheated, and he will laugh at your beard. No, I see

no help for you, but to go in defiance of him, the zenana, and the

stars; and this will prove you to be a man."

"Impossible, Meer Sahib," said he, despondingly. "Putting the Nujoomee

out of the question, I have four wives, Alla help me!--the lawful

number, you know; but oh! my friend, their wrath is dreadful, and I

dare not provoke it."

"It is enough," said I; "you will not go, because you dare not,--not

because you do not wish it."

"Exactly, Meer Sahib: you have hit upon the very cause. My own heart is

willing, and the prospect of gain leads me; but those women"--

It was prayer time, and the Muezzin's sonorous voice proclaimed

the hour from the roof of a neighbouring mosque. We performed our

ablutions, and, as good Mussulmans, we spread our carpets, and turning

to the still glowing west, poured forth our evening praise and

thanksgiving. I was determined to stay till the last moment I could,

to give my emissary time for his proceedings, and, if no message came

from the astrologer, to try some other plan, or even to agree to stay

another day. Ah, gold! thought I, if thou desertest me now at my best

need, I will forswear thy worship.

Our prayers were ended, and still we sat and conversed, but no message

came to suit my purpose. I had gradually led the merchant back to the

subject of the journey, and was picturing to him, in terms suited to

his avaricious soul, the reception he would assuredly meet with at

Jhalone; and I was preparing my words to introduce a change in my

opinions as to staying another day, when a servant came up the steps,

and whispered something in his ear, at which he started, yet at the

same time his face put on a joyous appearance.

"Excuse me for an instant, my friend," said he; "I am wanted

below--some one awaits me in the Dewan Khana. Wait here, and I will

rejoin you instantly."

My heart beat loud and quick in my bosom as I watched him down the

steps. Could it be that I had succeeded? or was there any fear of

danger to my own person? I looked over the terrace; it was far too

high to leap from; escape, if there was danger, was impracticable. But

a moment's thought rallied me; and as I disengaged my trusty sword,

and held it ready for action, I laughed at my own fears, for I knew

that I could defend that narrow stair against a host. I looked over

into the court-yard of the Dewan Khana, but saw no one: I could hear

two loud voices in low and earnest conversation; and as I stretched

forth my neck, and bent over the parapet of the terrace, in the vain

endeavour to catch a syllable, I was suddenly gratified by seeing the

merchant and a figure robed in white, which I knew at once to be that

of a Hindoo, while his bare and shaven head proved him to be a priest,

emerge from the Dewan Khana; and now their words came clearly to me.

"Then there is no obstacle?" said the merchant.

"None," said the Brahmin (for so he was); "as I have said, there was a

mistake in the tables and calculations which I have just discovered. My

art also told me that thou wert anxious to go; am I right?"

"Right, ah, virtuous Brahmin, assuredly thou art. I am promised

gain--nay, wealth."

"And thou wilt be successful," said the other. "May Narayun grant it! I

will pray for thy good fortune."

"Do so, do so, good Brahmin: good Seonath, I will not forget thee on my

return. Inshalla! I can be grateful: I will make a nuzzur through thee

to the temple."

"You will not fail to do so, I think, Shekhjee, for Ballajee hath been

propitious to thee ever since thy nuzzurs have been offered up at his

shrine. But I go to present thy gift, though it is a small one. Narayun

keep thee!"

"It shall be doubled--trebled, Seonath. I swear to thee by Alla I will

not forget when I return. Thou goest! Well, Alla Hafiz, my friend

awaits me."

He returned to me. "Rejoice with me, my friend," cried he, "my kind

Meer Sahib! After all, to-morrow is the lucky day. My friend the

Brahmin sent one of his disciples to say there was a mistake in the

calculations upon his tablets, and that the aspect of the heavens was

favourable to me for an unlimited period. Ah, how wise he is, Meer

Sabib, and how honest!--you called him a rogue: but see, he might have

kept me in suspense for a month, and refused to consult the stars at

all until he had been well paid. Well, after all, it is the power of

Alla, and doubtless these infidels hold some communion with him which

is denied to those of the true faith."

"So it would seem, Shekhjee," said I, humouring him; "it is no doubt

wonderful that your friend, for an astrologer, is for once honest. Of

course, you paid him liberally for his new discovery?"

The merchant winced. "A trifle, Meer Sahib; a few pice to purchase oil

for the temple was all he wanted."

"Oh, rare disinterestedness!" cried I; "truly it is grateful to the

heart to see such conduct in this selfish world, where every one

appears to strive how he can overreach his neighbour. Of course, he has

no prospective advantage?"

"None, Meer Sahib, none! How could a true believer have dealings or

connection with an infidel? Do I not take advantage of his learning for

my own convenience, and then laugh at his beard?" And he chuckled.

Liar! said I to myself, as I clenched my hand and ground my teeth,

thou shalt answer to Alla for this perjury before thou art many days

older. Verily this is a meritorious deed, and therefore hast thou been

delivered into my hands. A Hajji too! Oh, shame, shame! Yet then I

remembered the Arab verse which saith, "If thy neighbour hath performed

the Haj, trust him not; and if he hath done it twice, haste thee to

remove thine abode from his vicinity."

"Good, O Hajji," said I, "and you do right. But the night wanes, you

had better make preparations for the journey; and let me offer you

counsel; bring no one with you but a servant or two; my company is

ample for your protection. I have a small pal which will hold us both;

and, above all, bring not your son,--he will but fatigue himself for no

good purpose, and be a clog on our rapid movements, for rapid they must

be."

"I will follow your advice in all things, Meer Sahib. I shall bring no

servants; the man who will drive my spare tattoo can attend me when I

require it; and the less show I make, the less I shall be suspected of

carrying money with me."

"Remember then," said I, "you come to my camp by the time the

morning-star rises; we shall all be ready for you, and the sun will not

be powerful ere we reach our stage."

He promised to be there by the appointed time, and I left him. I found

my trusty emissary waiting for me in my tent. He burst into a loud

laugh when he saw me. "Is he safe?" he asked at length. "Ah, Meer

Sahib, I have had great amusement, as no doubt you have also."

"He is, he is fairly caught. The net is around him; one pull and he is

a lost man. And you, my faithful friend, you have succeeded so that I

marvel at your success."

"Marvel not," he replied; "the task was easier than I thought. But hear

my adventures."

"Surely," said I; and I called for a chilum, while he proceeded.

"You remember when you left me?"--I nodded,--"Well, it was a long time

ere I could find a servant; and in despair I lay down in the shade

of the wall, but kept awake; at last a fellow came out, a Hindoo, as

luck would have it, and I followed him: 'Canst thou direct me to a

kulal's shop?' said I; 'I have travelled far, and my throat is dry.'

I saw that the fellow himself drank, from the colour of his eyes, and

they sparkled at the mention of the kulal's shop. 'There is one close

by,' he replied; 'I will show it.' 'Good,' said I, 'thou shalt share

my potations.' Well, we entered the shop, and went into the inner

room. I called for a bottle of liquor, and paid for it; the place was

somewhat dark, and I poured what I took on the ground, but he drank

every drop; he finished the bottle as though it had been water, and I

sent for more. At last I began by asking him who his master was, and

what service he did, and, Mashalla! I heard in a wonderfully short time

all about him; and, lastly, that he was going on a journey, but had

been prevented by an astrologer's having declared the morrow to be an

unlucky day. In fine, my friend Sumbhoo (for such was his name) got

very drunk, and having told me much of his master's private history,

which did not redound to his credit, he fell senseless on the ground,

and there I left him; but not before I had ascertained that the

astrologer resided at a temple in the next street, and that his name

was Seonath."

"I have seen him," said I; "a tall, fair man, a good-looking priest,

and stout enough for a Thug."

"You saw him! How and where?" I told him, and we had a hearty laugh

as I described the scene in the court-yard, and mimicked the cringing

tones of the merchant, and the haughty ones of the Brahmin.

"But listen," said Laloo, "and wonder as I did. I soon found the temple

and the Brahmin, and accosting him, I begged for a charm against the

evil eye for my child. He looked at me--ya Alla, how he looked! I

quailed under his gaze, and my flesh crept as if I were in an ague fit;

for once I was afraid, for I knew not the man, and yet he seemed as if

he could read my heart. 'Follow me,' said he, 'I would speak with thee

apart from these prying people.' He spoke kindly, and I followed him,

though almost mechanically. He went before me. 'Leave your shoes,' said

he; 'this place must not be polluted: it is sacred.' At last we were

alone, in a small court, where there was a shrine of the god. Again he

turned on me, and looked into my face. I really knew not what to think;

and oh, how glad I was when he put an end to my suspense by repeating

our signal words!"

"Our signal?"----"Yes, Meer Sahib, even so; I was as much astounded

as you are, but the mystery was soon solved; he proved to be a priest

of our holiest of temples, Bindachul, who had travelled into these

parts, and having picked up some astronomical lore at Benares, set up

here for an astrologer, and found the trade so profitable, that he has

not returned to Bindachul. Of course, I had no reservation with him;

I developed our plan, from which he at first drew back; but I opened

my purse, and five ashruffees worked such a change in his sentiments,

that he listened to my words with complacency, altered the face of the

heavens as far as they concerned your friend, and, in fine, offered

there and then to go and say that his calculations were wrong, and that

everything boded prosperity to the poor Shekh."

"He has not failed us," said I.

"No," replied Laloo, "I know that; but we have to pay handsomely.

He wanted a hundred rupees more; but I represented that we were a

large band, and there would not be much to divide, and I obliged him

to be content with a Bhuttote's share, added to whatever a general

subscription might amount to when the band should be informed of the

part he had played."

"And he is content?"

"You have had the best proof, Meer Sahib; has he not done the errand

he promised? And when did a Brahmin of Bindachul ever break his faith?

He dare not: Bhowanee would smite him on the spot, or kill him by

lingering torments."

"And how," I asked, "are we to convey this share to him, whatever it

may turn out to be?"

"Easily enough; we can get a hoondee on this place, and send it to him

in a letter, or we can despatch a man with it."

"True, we can," said I; "and so now go; repeat to the men the lesson I

taught them, and enjoin them to be circumspect and wary. We have good

bunij in prospect, and, Inshalla! we will get it, too. But I wish I

could see the Brahmin, who has done us so good a turn in this matter."

"Let him alone," said he; "he told me, that although he wished much to

see you, having often heard of your conduct, it was better to avoid

suspicion, and that any open intercourse between him and you would

expose him to the inquiries of those with whom he was associated, and

had better be avoided. And he is right, Meer Sahib; it would do no

good."

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