Again I was in prison; and although not in such wretched plight as I
had been at Jhalone, for the cell was roomy and tolerably clean, yet
still it was a prison,--confinement to my limbs and to my spirit; a
conviction which threatened my life hung over me; and as I saw no
prospect of escape, I was resigned to die, and to meet my fate like a
man and a Thug who had been familiar with death from his childhood. We
sat in silence, and my wretched companion, old as he was, clung to the
idea of life with a fondness that I felt not. He had no ties on earth
to bind him to it, he had never had any, yet he longed to live. I _had_
possessed them,--they were all broken, and life had no charms for me. I
could not say that I wished for death, but I was indifferent to my fate.
A week passed thus--a long, interminable week. In vain was it that I
implored my jailors to relieve me from suspense, to tell me whether I
was to live or die: either they knew not, or their hearts were hardened
towards me; they would not tell me. But after the expiration of this
period, we were not long ignorant of our sentence. We were informed
that seven of our companions had been hanged, as they had been detected
in the act of strangling the travellers. But there was no evidence
against us so conclusive; the merchants who had escaped the fate of
their associates could not swear that we had murdered any of those who
had perished; and the horsemen who had captured us knew no more than
that we were of the party. If this had been all, we should probably
have been released; but one of the miserable men who had been executed,
in a vain attempt to preserve his life, confessed his crimes; and by
this last stroke of ill fortune we were convicted, and the decree went
forth that we were to be imprisoned for life.
Despair seized on my faculties at the announcement of this hard
sentence. Death in its most horrible shape would have been courted
joyfully by me in preference to it. To linger out years and years in
that wretched hole, never to be free again! I could not believe it: I
tried to shut out the dreadful reality from my mind, but in vain. I
implored that they would lead me to instant execution, that I might be
impaled, or blown away from a gun, or hanged,--anything rather than
have my miserable existence protracted in the solitude and suffering of
a prison. But my entreaties were laughed at or scorned. I was loaded
with a heavy chain, which confined my legs, my companion the same,
and we were left to our fate. Still my restless spirit held out to me
hopes of escape,--hopes that only mocked me, for every plan I formed
became utterly impracticable, and this only increased my misery. One
day I bethought me of the money I had collected before I was seized.
It was hidden, and it was not improbable that my hoard had remained
undiscovered. With this I fondly hoped I should be enabled to bribe one
of my jailors; and the idea comforted me for many days, while I waited
for an opportunity to put it into execution.
There was one among the guards of the prison, a young man, who was
always kinder in his deportment to us than any of the others. The
food he brought us was better, and the water always pure and in a
clean vessel. He used to cheer us too sometimes with the hope that
our imprisonment would not last so long as had been decreed; and he
instanced the cases of several criminals who had been sentenced like
us, but who had been released when the memory of their crimes had
ceased to occupy the minds of the officers in charge of the prison. He
had our clothes washed for us, and did a thousand kind acts--trifles
perhaps, but still more than we experienced from any other of his
companions.
It was with him, therefore, that I proposed to my fellow-captive to try
our long-brooded and cherished scheme of deliverance. The next time it
was his turn to attend us, I begged he would come to the cell at night
or in the evening, when he would be secure from observation, for that I
had something particular to communicate to him. He came in the evening
of that day, and seated himself, muffled in a dark-coloured blanket,
close to the bars of our cell.
"You have something to say I think," said he in a low tone, "and I have
done your bidding; I am here."
"I have, good Meer Sahib," said I, (for he was also a Syud;) "listen,
for what I would communicate to you will be for your benefit, if you
will enter into my plans."
"Say on," replied the youth; "you may command my utmost exertions."
"To be brief then," I continued, "you must endeavour to effect our
escape."
"It is impossible," he said.
"Not so," cried I; "nothing is impossible to willing hands and stout
hearts. You can manage everything if you will but listen to me. When we
were apprehended, we had saved a round sum of money, which is concealed
in a spot I can tell you of, if you will be faithful to us. Half of it
shall be yours, if you will only aid us."
"How much is it?" he asked.
"Upwards of five hundred rupees," said I; "it was securely hidden, and
no one can have discovered it. I repeat, half of it shall be yours if
you will assist us."
"How can I?" cried he, in a tone of perplexity; "how is it possible
that you can pass these doors and walls, even were you as free as I am
at this moment?"
"Leave that to me," said I; "do you accept the offer?"
"I will consider of the matter, and will be here at this time
to-morrow, to give you a final answer."
"May Alla send you kind thoughts to the distressed! we shall look for
your decision with impatience."
The next evening he came at the same time, and seated himself as
before. "What would you have me do, Meer Sahib?" he asked; "I am ready
to obey your commands if they are practicable. First, however, I must
be secure of the money you have mentioned; I must receive it before I
peril my situation, and, more than that, my life in your behalf."
"Listen then, Meer Sahib," said I; "I trust you,--you are a Syud and I
also am one; you dare not deceive me, and incur the wrath of Alla."
"I will not, by the Prophet, whose descendant I am," said he; "were the
Koran in my hands this moment, I would swear upon it."
"No, no," said I, "do not swear; the word of an honest man is far more
binding than an oath. I believe that you are true, and therefore it is
that I trust you. First, then, as regards the money; do you remember
two old tombs, one of them much broken, which stand near the river's
brink over the the north side of the city, about a cannon-shot from the
wall?"
"I do, perfectly."
"Then," I continued, "in that broken one is an earthen vessel,
containing the money; the vault where of old the body of the person
over whom the tomb was erected was deposited, can be opened by removing
four stones, which are loose, from the eastern side of it; they are
neither large nor heavy, and you can manage the matter alone. In the
cavity you will find the vessel, and the money is in it. I shall
require half for my expenses. Now all I ask you for the present to do
in return is, to procure us two small and sharp files and some ghee;
and when we have cut through our chains, and one of these bars, I will
tell you how you can aid us further."
"I will perform all you wish," said the youth; "and Inshalla! you
shall have the files to-morrow night by this time, if I find that your
statement about the money is true."
He then left us, and we anxiously and impatiently awaited his coming
the next day. Nor did he disappoint us. "I have come, as you see, Meer
Sahib," he said; "and behold, here are the files for you--they are
English, and new and sharp; here too is the ghee. I have fulfilled my
promise."
"And the money?" I asked.
"Without it you would not have seen me to-night, I can tell you, Meer
Sahib. I have got it; the amount is five hundred and fifty rupees, and
you shall be welcome to your share when you have got out of this hole.
And how do you intend to manage this part of your scheme?"
"Are the gates of the prison shut at night?" I asked.
"No," he replied; "that is, the gate is shut, but the wicket is always
open."
"And how many men guard it?"
"Only one, Meer Sahib; the rest sleep soundly after midnight."
"It is well," said I; "we can but perish in the attempt, and I for one
would gladly die, rather than linger out a wretched existence here."
"And I also," said my companion.
"I fear I cannot assist you," said the man: "yet stay, suppose you were
to attempt your escape when I am on guard. I shall have the last watch
to-morrow night."
"May the blessing of Alla rest on you!" said I; "you have anticipated
my thoughts. We will attempt it then, and may the Prophet aid us. All
night we will work at our irons and one of these bars, and to-morrow
night we shall be free. Go, kind friend, you do but risk detection in
being seen here."
He left us, and we set to work with a good will to cut the irons on
our legs and the bar. All night we worked, and the morning's light saw
the iron bar nearly cut through at the top and bottom; to cut it at
the top, one of us sat down by turns, while the other standing on his
shoulders filed till his arm was tired. Despite of the ghee, however,
the files made a creaking noise; we tried to prevent this by using
them slowly, but in the excitement of the moment this was at times
forgotten, for we worked hard for our liberty.
The morning broke, and we rested from our labour; one strong shake
would have separated the bar, and our irons were so nearly cut through
at the ancles and the waist, that a slight wrench would have divided
them. Our friend we knew was faithful, for he had proved himself so,
and we enjoyed a silent anticipation of our eventual triumph. "This
time to-morrow," I exclaimed, "we shall be free, far from Lukhnow, and
the world again before us, wherein to choose a residence!"
My companion was as full of hope as I was, and we passed most of the
morning in debating whither we should go, and calling to mind the
names of our former associates who would welcome us, and join us in
seeking new adventures. It was about noon, I think, that a party of the
soldiers of the prison, headed by the Darogha, approached our cell. My
heart sunk within me as I saw them coming, and the haste with which
they advanced towards us increased my alarm and apprehension. "We are
lost!" said I to my companion; "they have discovered our plans." He
did not reply, but despair was written on his countenance. The Darogha
applied his key to the lock; it was opened, and the whole party rushed
in and seized us.
"What new tyranny is this?" I exclaimed; "what new crime have we
committed, that we are again to be ill-treated?"
"Look to their irons!" cried the Darogha to his men.
"You have been busy it seems," said he to us, when they found them in
the state I have described. "Let me give you a piece of advice; when
you next file your irons, either use more ghee or make less noise. But
you will hardly have another opportunity, I think. Search them well,"
continued he to the men; "see where these instruments are which they
have used so cleverly."
They stripped us stark naked, and the files were found in the bands of
our trowsers through which the string that ties them runs. The Darogha
examined them carefully. "These are new, Meer Sahib, and English.
Inshalla! we will find out who supplied you with them. The fellow who
has done this assuredly has eaten dirt."
"We brought them here with us," said I, doggedly. "Ye were sons of
asses that ye did not search us when we entered your den of tyranny."
"We may be sons of asses," he replied, grinning, "but we are not such
owls as to believe you, O wise and cunning Syud; Thug as you are, we
are not going to eat dirt at your hands. Some friend you have had among
my men; one is suspected; and if these files can help us to trace
him--and it is probable enough--he had better say the Kulma, for his
head and shoulders will not long remain together. But come," said he
to his men, "your work is only half done; examine every foot of these
bars; for my worthy friends here, rely upon it, have not half done
their business."
They obeyed him, and, as you may suppose, soon found the bar which had
been cut.
"Enough!" said the Darogha. "You were a fool, O Meer Sahib, for this
wild attempt. Had you been content to bear your deserved imprisonment,
mercy might in time have been shown to you; but now, give up all hope;
you have forfeited that mercy by your own imprudence, and you will long
live to repent it. Bring them along," said he to his men; "we must put
them into narrower and safer lodgings."
Ya Alla, Sahib, what a place they led us to! A narrow passage, between
two high walls, which but just admitted of a man's passing along it,
contained, about half-way down, two cells, more like the dens of wild
beasts than aught else. They were more strongly grated than the last we
had been in, and were not half the size. Far heavier irons than those
we had last worn were fastened on our legs by a blacksmith, and we were
thrust into our horrible abodes.
"Now," said the Darogha, "get out if you can, Meer Sahib. If walls and
iron bars can hold you, you are pretty safe here, I think."
They left us, and once more we were cast into the abyss of despair;
nor was there one ray of hope left to cheer our gloomy and wretched
thoughts. Here am I to live, here am I to die, thought I, as I surveyed
the narrow chamber,--I who have roamed for years over the world, I who
have never known restraint. Alla! Alla! what have I done that this
should be? O Bhowanee, hast thou so utterly forsaken Ameer Ali? I cast
myself down on the rough floor, and groaned in agony. I could not weep,
tears were denied me; they would have soothed my overburthened soul. A
cup of misery was before me, and I was to drain it to the dregs. Hope
had fled, and despair had seized and benumbed every faculty of my mind.
Months rolled on. Though only a strong grating of iron bars divided me
from my old companion, we seldom spoke to each other; at most it was a
word, a passing remark hazarded by the one, and scarcely heeded by the
other, so absorbed were we in our misery. I ate and drank mechanically,
I had no craving for food; and what they gave us to eat was of the
coarsest kind. The filth which accumulated in our cells was removed
only once a week, and it bred vermin which sorely tormented us. Oh that
I could die! I cried a thousand times a day. Alas! my prayer was not
granted.
The second year of our captivity passed--the same unvarying rotation of
misery--no change, no amelioration of our condition. We existed, but no
more; the energies of life were dead within us. I used to think, were I
ever released, that I could not bear the rude bustle of the world; that
I should even prefer my captivity to its anxieties and cares. It was a
foolish thought, for I often yearned for freedom, and occupied my mind
with vain thoughts and plans for future action, should any lucky chance
give me my liberty; but no ray of hope broke in upon the misery of my
dungeon.
I mean not to say that my companion, the old Thug, and I never
conversed; we did so now and then; we recounted our exploits again and
again, and by thus recalling mine to my memory, from the beginning
of my career, I stored up in my mind the adventures and vicissitudes
I have related to you. One day we had been talking of my father, and
his parting words to me, "I am not your father," flashed across my
thoughts. I mentioned the circumstance to the old Thug, and earnestly
requested him to tell me what he knew of Ismail, and of my early state.
"What!" he asked, "so you know not of it, Meer Sahib? Surely Ismail
must have told you all? And yet," continued he, after a pause, "he
would not have done it--he dared not."
"What can you mean," cried I, "by saying he dared not? Was I his son,
or did he say truly when he declared I was not?"
"He spoke the truth, Meer Sahib. I know your origin, and it is just
possible there may be one or two others who do also, and who are still
living: one of these is Ganesha."
"Ganesha!" I exclaimed; "by Alla! my soul has ever told me that he knew
something of me. I have striven in vain to bring any scene in which he
was concerned with me to my recollection, and always failed. By your
soul! tell me who and what I was."
"'Tis a long tale, Ameer Ali," said the old man, "but I will endeavour
to remember all I can of it; it is one too which, were you not what you
are, would horrify you."
"My parents were murdered then?" said I, my heart sinking within
me. "I have sometimes thought so, but my conjectures were vague and
unsatisfactory."
"You have guessed truly, Meer Sahib. But listen, my memory is still
fresh, and you shall know all.
"Ismail, your father, as he called himself to you, became a Thug under
Hoosein Jemadar, whom no doubt you remember. I well recollect the
day he joined us, at a village not very far from Delhi; I was then a
youth, and belonged to the band of which Hoosein was one of the best
Bhuttotes."
"I know Ismail's history," said I; "he related it to me."
"Then I need not repeat it," he continued. "In time Ismail, by his
bravery and wisdom, rose far above Hoosein, and became the Jemadar of a
band of thirty Thugs. It is of this time I would speak. We were one day
at a village called Ekléra, in Malwa, encamped outside the place, in a
grove of trees near a well. We had been unlucky for some time before,
as it was the season of the rains, when but few travellers are abroad,
and we were eagerly looking for bunij.
"Ismail and Ganesha had been into the bazar, and returned with the
joyful news that a party was about to set off towards Indoor, and
that we were to precede them by a march, and halt whenever we thought
them secure to us. I and another Thug were directed to watch their
movements, while the main body went on. The information was correct,
and we dogged them till the third or fourth march, when, at a village
whose name I forget, we found the band halted, and rejoined it. The
party consisted of a respectable man, and his wife and child, an old
woman, and some young men of the village who accompanied them. The man
rode a good horse, and his wife travelled in a palankeen. They were
your parents, Meer Sahib."
"Go on," said I in a hoarse voice; "my memory seems to follow your
narration." O Sahib! I was fearfully interested and excited.
"Well," continued he, "not long after they had arrived, Ismail and
Ganesha went into the bazar, dressed in their best clothes, to scrape
an acquaintance with your father, and, as Ismail told us afterwards,
this was effected through you; he saw you playing in the streets, gave
you some sweetmeats, and afterwards rescued you from the violence
of some of the village boys who would have robbed you of them. This
led to his speaking with your mother, and eventually to his becoming
acquainted with your father. The end of all was, that they agreed
to accompany us, and dismissed the young men by whom they had been
previously attended. Does your memory aid you now, Meer Sahib, or shall
I finish the relation?"
"It does," said I, "most vividly as you proceed. But go on; without
your assistance, I lose the thread of my sad history." He resumed.
"Ismail in those days always rode a good horse, as also did Ganesha.
He grew fond of you, and you of him, and he used to take you up before
him and carry you most part of the march, or till you became fatigued.
This went on for some days, but we were approaching Indoor, and it was
necessary to bring the matter to a close; besides our cupidity was
strongly excited by the accounts we heard from Ismail of your father's
wealth, as he had told him that he carried a large sum of ready money
with him. At last the bhil was determined. I could show it you now; it
was close to a river, and, before the party had crossed, the jhirnee
was given. We strangled them all. Ganesha killed your mother, the old
woman was allotted to me; Ismail had his share also, and I believe
it was your father. You had been riding upon Ismail's horse all the
morning--at least after the rain had ceased--and when the jhirnee was
given you were half across the river; I saw you fall, and as you did
not move afterwards, I thought you were killed. You moved however, and
Ganesha ran towards you; he threw the roomal about your neck, and was
in the act of strangling you, when Ismail, who had uttered a cry of
despair on seeing Ganesha's action, arrived just in time to prevent his
deadly purpose. They had a serious quarrel about you, and even drew
their swords; but Ismail prevailed, and led you to where the bodies
were lying and being stripped by the Lughaees. You became frantic when
you saw your mother; you clung to her body and could hardly be torn
from it; you raved and cursed us all, but terror overcame you at last,
and perhaps pain also, for you fainted. Ismail, when the bodies had
been disposed of, and the plunder collected, mounted his horse and took
you up before him; and turning off the road, we travelled in another
direction.
"How you ever bore that journey I know not; you were a thin and
delicate child, and we all said you would die; but you bore it well,
and when we reached a place in the jungle, I was sent to a village for
milk, and you drank some. Here again Ismail and Ganesha had a second
quarrel about you; Ganesha said you were too old to adopt, that you
would remember all that had happened, and that he would strangle you;
and the abuse that you poured upon him made him still more savage.
Again they drew their swords, and would have fought about you, but we
prevented them.
"You were taken away by me to a distance; I rubbed your swollen neck,
and Ismail gave you a strong dose of opium, which put you to sleep, and
we again resumed our flight.
"Ganesha and he were never cordial friends after that day; they never
acted in concert again until, as I heard, in your last expedition; and
though they preserved an outward show of civility to each other, their
hate was as strong as ever.
"Ismail took you to his home. He was married, but had no children; and
as you grew up and improved under his kind and fatherly treatment, he
became proud of you, and used often to say to us that he regretted your
father had left your sister behind when he undertook his fatal journey
to Indoor."
"My sister!" cried I, in an agony of apprehension.
"Yes, Meer Sahib, your sister. I, for one, heard your father say that
he left her behind, as she was too young to be moved. You might get
news of her at Ekléra, if you ever get out of this cursed hole."
But he now spoke to one bereft of sense--of any feeling save that of
choking, withering, blighting agony. Why did not my heartstrings crack
in that moment? Why did I live to drag a load of remorse with me to
my grave? Yet it has even been so. I live, and I have borne my misery
as best I could; to most I appear calm and cheerful, but the wound
rankles in my heart; and could you but know my sufferings, Sahib, you
would, perhaps, pity me. Not in the daytime is my mind disturbed by
the thoughts of the past; it is at night, when all is still around me,
and sleep falls not upon my weary eyelids, that I see again before me
the form of my unfortunate sister; again I fancy my hands busy with
her beautiful neck, and the vile piece of coin for which I killed
her seems again in my grasp as I tore it from her warm bosom. Sahib,
there is no respite from these hideous thoughts; if I eat opium--which
I do in large quantities, to produce a temporary oblivion--I behold
the same scene in the dreams which it causes, and it is distorted and
exaggerated by the effects of the drug. Nay, this is worse to bear than
the simple reality, to which I sometimes become accustomed, until one
vision more vivid that its predecessors again plunges me into despair
of its ever quitting me.
Sahib, after that fatal relation, I know not what I did for many days.
I believe I raved, and they thought me mad, but my mind was strong and
not to be overthrown. I recovered, though slowly, and again and again I
retraced in my memory the whole of my life till that miserable day on
which I murdered my sister! It could have been no other.
I tried in vain to cheat myself into the belief that it was another,
but no effort that I made could shake the conviction that it was she.
My unaccountable recollection of Ekléra--the relation of my father's
death by the old man there--his almost recognition of me--and, more
than all, the old and worthless coin for which I destroyed her, and
which I now remembered perfectly--all were undeniable proofs of my
crime; and conviction, though I tried to shut it out, entered into my
soul, and abode there. Alla help me, I was a wretched being! My hair
turned gray, my form and strength wasted, and any one who had seen me
before I listened to the old Thug's tale would not have recognized
me two months afterwards. A kind of burning fever possessed me; my
blood felt hot as it coursed through my veins; and the night, oh how
I dreaded it! I never slept, except by day, when exhausted nature at
length claimed some respite. Night after night, for months and months,
I either rolled to and fro on my miserable pallet, or sat up and rocked
myself, groaning the while in remorse and anguish. No other act of my
life rose up in judgment against me--none but that one; I tried even
to think on others, but they passed from my mind as quickly as they
entered it, and my sister was ever before me.
You know the worst, Sahib--think of me as you will, I deserve it.
I cannot justify the deed to myself, much less to you; and the
only consolation I have--that it was the work of fate, of unerring
destiny--is but a weak one, that gives way before the conviction of my
own guilt. I must bear my curse, I must wither under it. I pray for
death, and as often, too, pray that I may live, and that my measure of
punishment may be allotted to me here, that my soul may not burn in
Jehanum. I may now as well bring my history to a close, to the time
when, by accepting your boon of life, I became dead to the world.
My old companion died in the fourth year of our captivity. I would
fain have had him deny the tale he told me of my father's destruction,
but he would not; he was dying when I urged him to do so, and again
declared in the most solemn manner that what he had related was true
in every particular; and again he referred me to Ganesha, my mother's
murderer, for confirmation of the whole.
He died, and I was left to solitude, to utter solitude, which was
only broken by the daily visit of my jailor, who brought me food, and
attended me during a short walk up and down the passage. This favour
alone had I extorted after those years of misery, and it was grateful
to me to stretch my cramped limbs, and again to feel the pure air of
heaven breathe over my wasted features.
The seventh year had half passed; the Darogha of the jail was dead, or
had been removed; another supplied his place, and some amelioration of
my condition ensued. I was removed from the lonely cell into one near
where I had been first confined; it was more spacious and airy, and
people passed to and fro before it. I used to watch their motions with
interest and this in some degree diverted my mind from brooding over
the past.
In the twelfth year of my imprisonment the old king died, and his
successor, the late monarch, ascended the musnud. Many a heart beat
quickly and with renewed hope--hope, that had almost died within the
hearts of those wretches who were immured within the walls--and of
mine among the rest. We had heard that it was customary to release all
who had been sentenced to perpetual imprisonment; and you can hardly
imagine, Sahib, the intense anxiety with which I looked for the time
when the mandate should be issued for our release, or when I should no
longer dare to hope.
It came at last; after some days of weary expectation, the order
reached the Darogha, and it was quickly conveyed to me. I was brought
forth, the chains were knocked off my legs, and I was free. Five rupees
were given to me, and a suit of coarse clothes in place of those which
hung in rags about my person. After more than twelve weary years I
issued from those prison walls, and was again thrown upon the world to
seek my fortune.
"Beware, Meer Sahib," said the Darogha, as he presented me with the
money, "beware of following your old profession; you are old, your
blood no longer flows as it used, and what you have been you should
forget. Go! follow some peaceful calling, and fortune may yet smile
upon you."
I thanked him and departed. I roamed through the city till nightfall,
and after satisfying my hunger at the shop of a bhutteara I begged from
him shelter for the night. It was readily granted; and I lay down and
enjoyed the first quiet and refreshing sleep I had known for years. I
arose with the dawn and went forth,--whither I cared not,--all places
in the wide world seemed alike to me. I knew no one, I could find no
one who knew me in that large city, and I felt the desolation of my
condition press heavily upon me. What to do, or whither to go, I knew
not; but a faint hope that I might discover some of my old associates
if I could reach Bundelkhund impelled me to travel thither. A change in
my dress was soon effected. From a Kalundur Fakeer I purchased a high
felt hat and a chequered garment for a small sum: and thus equipped,
with a staff in my hand, I left the city by the north gate, and
travelled onwards.
It was as I thought; I was never without a meal, though it might be of
the coarsest food; and when I reached Jhalone, my little stock of money
was nearly as large as when I had left Lukhnow. I went direct to the
house of the Moola, for my thoughts were ever with my daughter, and
my soul yearned to know her fate. Alas! I was disappointed. His house
was inhabited by another, whom I knew not, and all he could tell me
was that the old man had gone to Delhi he believed some years before,
and that he had not heard any tidings of him since. I asked after
his daughters, but the man knew nothing of them, except that one he
had adopted had been married in Jhalone to a person who resided in a
village of the country, but of his name or direction he was ignorant.
I turned away from the door,--I dared not pass my own, and I withdrew
to an obscure part of the town where there was a small garden in which
a Fakeer usually resided. Him I had known of old, he had eaten of
my bread and received my alms, and now I was his equal. He will not
recognize me, thought I, in this dress, and changed as I am no one
knows me; I will seek him however, and if he is as he used to be I may
learn some news of my old friends.
I found the Fakeer I sought; old I had left him, he was now aged and
infirm; his garden, which he had always kept with scrupulous neatness,
was overgrown with weeds and neglected, and he had barely strength
remaining to crawl about the town for the small supply of flour or
grain which sufficed for his daily wants. I was much shocked to see him
thus, and representing myself to be a wandering Kalundur desirous of
remaining in Jhalone, I begged to be allowed to reside and share with
him whatever I got. My offer was readily accepted, and there I took up
my abode, in the hope that some wandering party of Thugs might pass
Jhalone, to whom I could disclose myself.
Gradually I discovered myself to the old man. I led him to speak of old
times and of persons by allusion to whom he must know I was a Thug. He
did not hesitate to speak of them, and in particular of myself, whose
fate he mourned with such true grief, that I could control myself no
longer; and to his wondering ear I related the whole of my adventures,
from the time I had been released by the Rajah to the period of my
taking up my abode with him. And much had I to hear from him in
return--much that distressed and grieved me. Many of my old companions
were dead, others had been seized and executed, and hardly one of the
old leaders of Bundelkhund were in the country or in the exercise of
their vocation; new leaders had sprung up, and he spoke in warm terms
of a young man named Feringhea, who when I had last seen him was a mere
boy.
Four months passed thus. To support the old Fakeer as well as myself,
I was obliged to perambulate the town daily: and I asked and received
alms, given in the meanest portions, in the place where my hand had
ever been open to the poor. A sad change in my fortune, Sahib! Yet I
bore up against it with resignation, if not with fortitude, hoping for
better days and new adventures.
New adventures, Ameer Ali! I exclaimed. Had not the punishments you had
received turned your heart from Thuggee?
No Sahib! cried the Thug with fervour; why should they? Had not my
heart become hardened by oppression and misery? They had aroused within
me a spirit of revenge against the whole human race. I burned to throw
off my wretched disguise, and again take to the road--it mattered not
whether as a leader or a subordinate, so that I could once more be a
Thug. Nor was I old; true, my beard had become grizzled and gray, and
care had seamed my countenance with many wrinkles; but I was still
strong and powerful, and my hands had not forgotten their cunning. Four
months I have said had elapsed, and as no Thugs came near Jhalone, I
set off with a few rupees I had saved from the produce of my daily alms
for Tearee, where I hoped to meet the Brahmin astrologer who had so
materially aided me in the affair of the pearl merchant. His share of
that booty had been duly remitted to him immediately on my arrival at
Jhalone; and though I had never heard from him afterwards, yet I felt
assured that the letter could not have miscarried.
I reached Tearee after many days. I knew that bands of Thugs were
abroad, for I saw their fire-places and marks at many villages and
upon the roads; but I met with none, to my disappointment, and on my
arrival I hastened at once to the temple, where I found the Brahmin;
and, notwithstanding my misfortunes, I was kindly, nay warmly welcomed.
The Brahmin still kept up his connection with Thugs, and I learned
from him, to my joy, that a band, under a Jemadar named Ramdeen, about
twenty in number, had passed through the town only the day before, and
were on their road towards the Nerbudda.
"You can easily overtake them, Meer Sahib," he said; "and if your
old fame as a leader fails in procuring you a welcome reception, a
few lines from me may aid you." And he wrote a note to the Jemadar,
informing him who I was, and how I had been connected with him of
old. I did not long delay after I had received it, and again set off
in search of my future companions. I came up with them on the second
day, and warm indeed was the welcome I received; one and all were
amazed to see me, whom they had long thought dead. I was clothed in
decent raiment by them, admitted as one of their band, and treated as
a brother. Truly their kindness was refreshing to my almost withered
heart. Ramdeen insisted that I should take an equal rank with him in
the band; and after the necessary ceremonies I resumed my roomal, and
in a few days again ate the Goor of the Tupounee.
Sahib, you must by this time be weary of my adventures with travellers,
and I met with none during my connection with Ramdeen's party worthy of
relation. We avoided the Company's territories and kept to those of
Sindia; penetrating as far as Boorhanpoor, and on our return visiting
the shrine of Oonkar Manduttee, on the Nerbudda. From this latter place
we were fortunate in enticing a party of pilgrims, and a large booty
fell into our hands at the bottom of the Jam Ghat, whither we escorted
them on their return to Oojein. Upwards of four hundred rupees was my
share of this: so again you see me independent, and fortune smiling
upon me. But Ramdeen became jealous of me, and of my superior skill
and intelligence. We had many quarrels, and at last I left him, and
determined, with what I had, to travel to the Dukhun, and to seek
my fortune in the Nizam's country, where I knew that Thuggee still
flourished unchecked.
But it was fated not to be so. My road from where I left Ramdeen lay
through Saugor, and there I met with my old acquaintance Ganesha, at
the head of a small band, apparently in wretched plight. I could but
ill dissemble my feelings of abhorrence at meeting with him; my own
misfortunes and history, and the tale of my companion in imprisonment,
were fresh in my recollection; nevertheless I disguised the dislike I
felt, though revenge still rankled in my heart, and I would gladly have
seized any opportunity to satisfy it. Among his band was a Thug I had
known in former days; he was weary of Ganesha, whose temper was not
improved by age, and he advised me to put myself at the head of a few
men he could point out to me, who would be faithful, and who he thought
would prove the nucleus of a large band; for my name was still fresh
in the memory of the older Thugs, who would gladly flock to me when
they heard I was determined to set up for myself without connexion with
others. And he was right; in a few months I was at the head of forty
men; and we were fortunate. Taking a new direction, we passed through
the territories of the Rewah Rajah, returning to our home, which we
fixed in a village not far from Hindia, in a wild and unfrequented
tract, where we were secure from treachery and from the operations
against the Thugs then being carried on from Saugor.
Two years passed in this manner, and I was content, for I was, as I
wished to be, powerful and actively employed. Two seasons we went out
and returned laden with plunder, and the name of Ameer Ali was again
known and feared. Another season and it shall be my last, said I; I
had discovered some clue to my daughter, and thought (vain idea!)
if I could only collect a few thousand rupees, that I could dare to
seek her, to live near her, and to abandon Thuggee for ever. Why was
I thus infatuated? what else could it have been but that inexorable
fate forbade it? The destiny which had been marked out for me by Alla
I was to fulfil, and I blindly strove against it. The vain purposes of
man urge him to pursue some phantom of his imagination, which is never
overtaken, but which leads him on often by smooth paths and buoyed up
by hope, till he is suddenly precipitated into destruction.
I had planned an expedition on a larger scale than ever, towards
Calcutta, and we had sworn to Bhowanee to pay our devotions at her
shrines of Bindachul and Calcutta; the omens were favourable, and we
left our home in joy and high excitement. And what cared I then, though
I knew that the English had set a price of five hundred rupees upon
me? It was a proof that I was dreaded and feared, and I rejoiced that
Ameer Ali, the oppressed and despised for a time, had again emerged
from his obscurity, and I braved the danger which threatened me. I
was a fool for this, yet it was my destiny that impelled me: and of
what avail would have been precautions, even had I taken any? I knew
that treachery could not reach me where I was, and I trusted to my
apparently lasting new run of good fortune, and to the omens with which
our expedition had begun, to escape apprehension in the districts of
the Company's territories, where operations against Thugs were being
carried on with much success.
Saugor lay directly in the route which we proposed taking, and it was
here that the greatest danger was to be apprehended. I might have
avoided it perhaps, but I trusted to the celerity and secrecy of my
movements for a few days until we should pass it; and as my band were
unanimous in refusing to change the route after it had been determined
on and sanctioned by favourable omens, I undertook to lead them at
all hazards. We travelled by night, therefore, and avoided all large
villages, resting either in waste spots or near miserable hamlets. Nor
did we seek for bunij,--the danger was too imminent for any time to be
lost; and though one or two persons died by our hands, yet this was
rather to enable us to eat the Goor of the Tupounee, and to perform
such ceremonies as were absolutely necessary for the propitiation of
our patroness, and our consequent success.
CONCLUSION.
Saugor, I have said, lay directly in our route, and we reached a
village close to it on the evening of a day of severe travel. We were
fatigued already, but the town was now so close to us that we did not
hesitate to push on, and we arrived at the well-known spot shortly
after dark. Selecting an empty shed in as lonely a part of the town
as we could, we cooked a hasty meal and lay down, determined to rise
before dawn and again pursue our journey. One of our number was set
to watch ere we retired to rest, and we depended upon him to give us
warning, should any suspicious person be observed.
The night passed, and I arose, roused my followers, and long before day
had dawned we were beyond the gates of the town. "See," said I to my
friend, "our much-dreaded danger is past; we are now again on our way,
and we shall leave this spot at least ten coss behind us before noon;
beyond that there is nothing to fear, and we shall travel with light
hearts." Alas! I spoke as my sanguine hope prompted me to do; but it
was not fated to be as we thought. Again treachery had been at work,
and when I conceived I possessed a band free from all suspicion, two
traitors, as I afterwards heard, had already laid a deep plan for my
apprehension. Of this, however, I will tell you hereafter; you are now
with me on the road, and you see us urging our course with the utmost
speed.
Already had we lost sight of the town, and before us was a broad
well-beaten road, which I well remembered; yet I feared so public a
route, and determined to strike off into a by-path as soon as I could
see one which diverged in the direction we were going. We might have
proceeded a coss or two perhaps, and the day was now beginning to
dawn; a nulla was before us at a short distance, and as none of us had
washed before leaving the town, I proposed that we should perform our
ablutions there, the better to enable us to sustain the fatigue of the
stage before us; my proposal was agreed to, and when we reached the
running stream, one and all ungirded their loins and sat down by the
water. We had not been engaged thus for more than a few minutes when a
sudden rush was made upon us by a number of horse and foot soldiers,
who must have been lying in wait for us on the road we were to travel.
I had left my weapons at some little distance from the water, and my
first impulse was to endeavour to possess myself of them; but in this
I was foiled. Two of my own men threw themselves upon me and held me,
and as I vainly struggled to free myself, some foot-soldiers seized me.
I was thrown down and bound. The surprise was most complete. A few of
my band drew their swords, and some blows were exchanged between them
and the party who had come upon us, and a few of my Thugs were wounded;
but we were all overpowered, and the whole affair was concluded in less
time than it requires to relate it; only a few of my men escaped.
Bitterly did I upbraid the men who had prevented my getting at my
weapons. Had I but possessed them, Ameer Ali would never have been
taken alive; I would have sold my life dearly, Sahib, and sooner than
have been seized I would have plunged my sword into my heart, and ended
a life which had no charms for me, and which I only wished to prolong
to wreak vengeance on mankind, the source of all my misery.
As I reviled them, they mocked and jeered at me. "Where is now your
journey to Calcutta, O Meer Sahib?" said one; "behold, the long travel
is saved thee, and thou art returning to Saugor to live in a fine house
and to keep company with many old friends who are in it." "Yes," said
the other, "the Jemadar's day is past, and his wit deserted him when he
must needs approach the den of the tiger, as if he would not be smelt
out! Why didst thou come to Saugor, O Jemadar? Hadst thou forgotten
the promise of reward and free pardon which was offered for thy
apprehension? Truly we have done a good deed," said he to the other,
"and the Sahib-logue will be pleased with us."
But their idle talk was silenced by the leader of the party, who warned
them to be careful, and not to boast, lest their expectations should
not be realized; and they shrunk behind, unable to bear the glances of
scorn and contempt which were cast on them by all; by _all_, I say, for
even the soldiers who had seized us cursed the means of their success
for having been treacherous and unfaithful to the salt they had eaten.
And thus in bitter agony of spirit, and indulging vain regrets at my
senseless imprudence in approaching Saugor, they led me, bound and
guarded, by the road I had just travelled, free then as the morning
breeze which played on me. For the third time I was a prisoner, and now
I saw no hope; I had retained some on each of the former occasions,
but it all vanished now. Then I was young, and a young heart is always
buoyant and self-comforting; but the fire of my spirit had long been
quenched, and it was only in the wild excitement of a life of continual
adventure and unrestrained freedom, when I resembled what I had
formerly been, that it rekindled within me. Death, too, was now before
me; for I knew the inexorable laws of the Europeans, and that no mercy
was shown to Thugs of any grade,--how much less to me for whom a reward
had been offered! It was a bitter thought. I should be hung--hung like
a dog! I who ought to have died on a battle-field! _there_ death would
have been sweet, and followed by an everlasting Paradise. Alas! even
this hope deserted me now, and I felt that the load of crime with which
my soul was oppressed would weigh me down into hell.
Who can describe the myriad thoughts which crowd into the heart at
such a moment? One by one they hurry in, each striving to displace the
foregoing--none staying for an instant,--till the brain reels under the
confusion. It was thus with me. I walked mechanically, surrounded by
the soldiers, vainly striving to collect my wandering senses to sustain
me in the coming scene--the scene of death; for I verily believed I
should be led to instant execution. Why should the mockery of a trial
be given to one so steeped in crime as I was?
A short time after our arrival at the town, I was conducted, closely
guarded, to the officer who was employed by the English government to
apprehend Thugs. A tall, noble-looking person he was, and from the
severe glance he cast on me I thought my hour was come, and that ere
night I should cease to exist. I had prepared myself, however, for the
worst; I saw no pity in his stern countenance, and I confess I trembled
when he addressed me.
"So, you are Ameer Ali, Jemadar," said he, "and at last you are in my
power; know you aught of the accusations against you, and wherefore you
are here? Read them," he continued to an attendant Moonshee, "read the
list which has been drawn up; yonder villain looks as though he would
deny them."
The man unfolded a roll of paper written in Persian, and read a
catalogue of crime, of murders, every one of which I knew to be true;
a faithful record it was of my past life, with but few omissions. Alla
defend me! thought I, there is no hope; yet still I put a bold face on
the matter.
"The proof, Sahib Bahadur," said I; "you English are praised for your
justice, and long as that list is of crimes I never before heard
of, you will not deny me a fair hearing and the justice you give to
thousands."
"Surely not; whatever your crimes may be, do not fear that your case
shall be inquired into. Call the approvers," said he to an attendant;
"bring them in one by one, and the Jemadar shall hear what they have
told me about him."
The first man who entered was an old associate of mine in former days,
before my misfortunes commenced: he had been with me in the expedition
just before my father had been put to death by the Rajah of Jhalone,
which I have minutely described to you; and he related the whole, from
the murder of the Moonshee and his child, down to the last event,
the destruction of the pearl-merchant. His story took a long time in
relating; and the whole was so fresh in my recollection, and he was so
exact and true in its details, that I could not answer a word, nor put
a single question to shake his testimony. In conclusion, he referred
the officer to the Rajah of Jhalone for corroboration of the whole,
and he appealed to me to declare whether aught he had said was false.
"Not only," said he, "do you know, Meer Sahib, that it is all true, but
there are others as well as myself who can speak to these facts; and
know, moreover, that many graves have been opened, and the remains of
your victims have been disinterred."
"Say _yours_ as well as mine," I replied, thrown completely off my
guard at last, and nettled by the emphasis he had placed on the words
"your victims." "You had as much to do with them as myself; besides,
did you not aid that villain Ganesha when I would have saved the child
of the Moonshee?"
"He has confessed!" cried many voices.
"Silence!" said the officer; "let no one dare to speak. Do you know,
Ameer Ali, what you have said? Are you aware that you have admitted you
are a Thug?"
"It is useless now to attempt to recall my words," said I, doggedly;
"make the most of them, for after this you shall wring no more from
me--no, not by the most horrible tortures you can inflict."
The examination, however, proceeded. Others were brought forward who
had known me, or been connected with me, in Thuggee, and at last those
who had earned the reward of the government by betraying me. They had
been associated with me for the last two years, and they related what
I had done, and where the bodies of the murdered were lying. After
this was finished, and all the depositions recorded, I was remanded to
prison; and the better to secure me, I was not only loaded with irons,
but confined in a cell by myself.
After many days, which elapsed without my being sent for, and when I
had concluded that my fate was decided, the Moonshee whom I had seen in
the court, with a Jemadar of Nujeeb's, and two of the approvers, came
to me. "Ameer Ali," said the first, "we are sent by the Sahib Bahadur
to tell you of your fate."
"I can guess it," said I--"I am to suffer with the rest. Well! many a
good Thug has thus died before me, and you shall see that Ameer Ali
fears not death."
"You have guessed rightly," said the Moonshee, "there is no hope for
you: your final trial will come on in a day or two; and there is such
an array of facts against you, and the accounts from the Rajah of
Jhalone so entirely agree with the statements of all the approvers,
that it is impossible you can escape death--or, if you do escape it,
nothing can save you from the Kala Panee."
"Death!" cried I--"death at once! Ah, Moonshee! you have influence with
my judges--you can prevent my being sent away over the far sea, never
to behold my country more, and to linger out the remnant of my days
in a strange land condemned to work in irons. These hands have never
been used to labour; how shall I endure it? Death is, indeed, welcome,
compared with the Kala Panee."
"But why should it be either, Meer Sahib?" asked the Jemadar; "your
life or death is in your own hands: these men will tell you how they
are treated by the master they serve, and you may be like them if you
are wise."
"Never!" cried I; "never shall it be said of Ameer Ali that he betrayed
an associate."
"Listen, Kumbukht!" said the Moonshee; "we are not come to use
entreaties to one who deserves to die a thousand deaths, to one whose
name is a terror to the country; you are in our power, and there is no
averting your fate: an alternative is offered, which you may accept
or not as you please; no force is used, no argument shall be wasted
on you. Say at once, will you live and become an approver like the
rest,--have good clothes to wear and food to eat, and be treated with
consideration,--or wilt you die the death of a dog? Speak, my time is
precious, and I have no orders to bandy words with you."
"Accept the terms, Ameer Ali," said both the approvers; "do not be a
fool, and throw your last chance of life away!"
I mused for a moment: what was life to me? should it ever be said
that Ameer Ali had become a traitor, and, for the sake of a daily
pittance of food and the boon of life, had abandoned his profession
and assisted to suppress it? No, I would die first, and I told them so.
"Begone!" said I; "take this message to your employer,--that the soul
of Ameer Ali is too proud to accept his offer, and that he scorns it.
Death has no terrors for him; yet shame, everlasting shame has!"
They left me, and I mused over my lot. I was to die; that was
determined. Did I fear death? not at first; I looked at the transition
as one that would lead me to eternal joys--to Paradise--to my father
and Azima. But as I thought again and again, other reflections crowded
on my spirit: I was to die, but how? not like a man or a soldier, but
like a miserable thief, the scorn of thousands who would exult in my
dying struggles; and then I remembered those of the wretch who had been
hung before my eyes when Bhudrinath was with me, and I pictured to
myself the agony he must have suffered ere life was extinct--the shame
of the death--the ignominy which would never leave my memory. All these
weighed heavily on me. On the other hand was life--one of servitude it
was true, but still it was life; I should be protected, and I might
once more perhaps be free, if the Europeans relented towards me, and I
did them faithful service.
Thus I debated with myself for many days; at last I was warned that my
trial would come on the next day; it was clearly the crisis of my fate,
and, I must confess it, the fear of the horrible death of hanging, the
dread of the Kala Panee, and the advice of the Moonshee, caused my
resolutions of dying with the rest to give way to a desire of life.
Ganesha too crossed my thoughts: I can revenge myself now, thought I,
and his death will not lie at my door. I knew too how earnestly his
capture was desired, and that I alone could tell where he was to be
found, and of his probable lurking-places in case he ever escaped from
us. My determination was made, and I requested that the Moonshee who
had formerly spoken with me on the subject might be sent for. He came,
and I told him at once that I was willing to accept the alternative he
had offered.
"Ah! you speak like a wise man now," said he, "and if you exert
yourself in the service you have embraced, and prove yourself faithful
and trustworthy, you may rely upon it, indulgences, as far as can
be granted to a person in your condition, will be allowed to you
hereafter: but you must first deserve them, for with the Europeans
nothing goes by favour."
"I am ready," I replied; "point out what I am to do, and you will find
that Ameer Ali can be true to the salt he eats."
"Then come, it is still early, and I will take you at once to the
Court, there you will receive your instructions."
My prison irons were struck off, and a light steel rod with a ring
attached to it fastened about my right leg, so that it left me at
perfect liberty to walk, but not to run, and I was duly admitted as
an approver, under the threat of instant execution in case I ever
neglected my duty, failed to give information where I really possessed
it, or abused in any way the confidence which had been reposed in me.
"Know you aught of Ganesha?" said the officer to me.
"I do, Sahib Bahadur," I replied, "I know him well; you have offered a
reward for him as you did for me, and yet you know not that, even at
this moment, he is within a few coss of Saugor."
"Can you guide my people to him?" he asked. "Remember, this is the
first matter with which you are intrusted, and I need not say that I
require you to use your utmost intelligence in it. Ganesha is wary, and
has hitherto evaded every attempt which has been made to apprehend him."
"I will undertake it," I exclaimed. "It is possible he does not know
of my capture; and if you will give me six of your own men, I will
disguise them, and pledge myself to bring him to you; and not only him,
but Himmut, who is I know with him."
"Ha!" cried the officer, "Himmut also! he is as bad as the other."
"He is as good a Thug," I replied, "and more cannot be said. But we
lose time; select your men, let them be the bravest and most active you
have--their weapons may be needed. I will too ask you for a sword."
"Impossible," said he; "you must go as you are: what if you were to
lead my men into destruction?"
I drew myself up proudly. "Trust me or not as you will,--Ameer Ali is
no liar, no deceitful villain to the cause he serves. Trust me, and you
make me doubly true to your interests; doubt me, and I may doubt you."
"Thou speakest boldly," said he, "and I will trust thee. Let him have
his own weapon," he added to an attendant. "And now you must be gone
early, Ameer Ali; the men await you without."
"This instant,--food shall not pass my lips till I have taken Ganesha."
I left him. I found the men, six resolute-looking fellows, well armed;
I stripped them of their badges of office, and made them throw dust
on their garments, so that it should appear they had travelled far.
The iron on my leg I secured, so that it should make no noise and not
be visible, under my trowsers; and I put the party in motion. It was
nearly evening, and avoiding the town, I struck at once into the open
country. "If we travel well," said I to the men, "we may be up with him
by midnight."
"Where is he?" asked the leader of the party.
"At ----; he lives with the Potail there, and passes for a Hindoo
Fakeer."
"By Gunga! I have seen him then," rejoined the fellow; "he is tall, and
squints, does he not?"
"That is the man," said I; "you would hardly have thought of looking
for him so near you?"
"No, indeed! had we known it, we might have captured him a week ago."
"Now you are sure of him," said I: "but we must be wary; will you trust
me?"
"I will; but beware how you attempt to escape or mislead me."
"I have a heavy reckoning to settle with Ganesha--he murdered my
mother!" was my only reply.
We reached the village in the very dead of night; everything was still,
and it was perfectly dark, which aided my purpose; for my companion's
face could not be distinguished, and my own approach to the Potail's
house would not be noticed. "Now," said I to the Nujeeb, "you alone
must accompany me; let the rest of your men stay here: I will bring
Ganesha here, and then you must bind him. Do you fear me?" (for he
appeared irresolute;) "nay, then I will go alone, and tell your master
that ye are cowards."
"That will not do either," cried the man; "I must not let you out of my
sight; my orders are positive; so go I must; and if I do not return,"
said he to his associates, "do you make the best of your way to Saugor
alone, and say that I am murdered."
I laughed. "There is no fear," said I; "in half an hour or less we
shall return: are you ready?"
"I am, Meer Sahib; lead on, and remember that my sword is loose in the
scabbard. I may die, but thou shalt also."
"Fool!" said I, "cannot you trust me?"
"Not yet," he replied; "I may do so hereafter."
"Remember," I continued, "that you are neither to speak to Ganesha nor
the other, if he is here. I will get them out of the house; after that
look well to your weapon. If they attempt to escape, or show suspicion
of our real errand, fall on Himmut when I ask you how far it is to
Saugor: leave me to deal with Ganesha;--we are two to two, and Ganesha
is a better swordsman than the other. You will remember this."
"I will," he replied; "I will stick by you,--I fear not now, for I see
you are faithful."
A few more steps brought us to the Potail's house, and I called for
him by name. "Jeswunt! Jeswunt! rouse yourself and come out, man. Thou
knowest who I am." I spoke in Ramasee, which I knew he understood. He
answered me from within, and soon after I heard the bars and bolts of
his door removed, and he came forth wrapped in a sheet. "Who calls me?"
he asked.
"I, your friend Ameer Ali," I replied; "where is Ganesha?"
"Asleep, within; why do you ask?"
"And Himmut?"
"Asleep also; what do ye want with either? and what brings you here,
Meer Sahib, so late or so early, which you please? we thought you were
half way to Calcutta."
"Ah," said I, "that matter has been given up; the Nujeebs were out, and
there was risk. But go and rouse Ganesha; I have some work in hand for
him, and have no time to lose; it must be finished by daylight."
"I understand," said the Potail, "some bunij, eh?"
"Do not stand chattering there, or your share may be forgotten,
Potailjee; bring Ganesha to me, or tell him I am here, he will come
fast enough." He went in. "Now be ready!" said I to the Nujeeb; "do as
I do, and remember the signal."
I heard the Potail awaken Ganesha; I heard the growling tones of his
voice as he first abused him for rousing him, and afterwards his eager
question, "Ameer Ali here! ai Bhowanee, what can he require of me?" At
length his gaunt figure appeared at the doorway. Ya Alla! how my heart
bounded within me, and then sickened, so intense was my excitement on
beholding him.
"Where art thou, Ameer Ali?" said he; "I can see nought in this
accursed darkness."
"Here," said I, "you will see well enough by-and-by, when your eye is
accustomed to it; give me your hand; now descend the step; that is
right." We embraced each other.
"Are you ready for work?" I asked; "I have only two men with me, and
we have picked up some bunij; there will be good spoil too if you will
join us,--alone we can do nothing--there are four of them."
"Where?" he asked.
"Yonder, in the lane; I have pretended to come for fire."
"Who is that with you?"
"A friend; no fear of him, he is one of us."
"Does he speak Ramasee?"
"Not yet," said I; "he is a new hand; but a promising one. But where is
Himmut?"
"Within, snoring there, you may even hear him; wait for me a moment, I
will go for my sword and shoes, and rouse him up. Four men you said,
and we are five; enough, by Bhowanee! we will share the spoil."
"Before you are two hours older! be quick, or they may suspect me."
He went in, and returned in a short time fully equipped; Himmut
accompanied him, and we exchanged salutations.
"Now, come along," said I, "there is no time to lose."
"Hark ye!" said Ganesha, "there is a well in yonder lane, will that do
for the bhil?"
"Certainly," I replied, "you will see the men directly." Soon after I
had spoken we approached our party.
"Who goes there?" cried one of them.
"A friend--Ameer Ali!"
"Then all is right," was the reply, and in another instant we had
joined them.
"There are your men, seize them!" cried I, throwing myself upon Ganesha
with such violence that we fell to the ground together, struggling with
deadly hate; but two of the Nujeebs came to my aid, just as Ganesha had
succeeded in drawing a small dagger he wore in his girdle, and as I had
fortunately seized his hand.
"Bind him hand and foot," said I, disengaging myself from him, "and
gag him, or he may alarm the village by his cries." This was done, and
he was disarmed; a cloth was tied round his mouth so that he could not
speak, and we hurried our prisoners along as fast as the darkness and
the roughness of the road would allow.
None of us spoke, nor was it till the day had fully dawned that I
looked upon Ganesha; then our eyes met, and the furious expression of
his face I shall never forget. "Take the gag from his mouth," said I to
one of the Nujeebs! "let him speak if he wishes." It was done.
"You are revenged at last, Ameer Ali," he said; "may my curses cleave
to you for ever, and the curses of Bhowanee fall on you for the
destruction of her votary! May the salt you eat be bitter in your
mouth, and your food poison to you!"
"Ameen!" said I; "you have spoken like Ganesha. I am indeed revenged,
but the debt is not paid yet--the debt you owe me for my mother's life.
Devil! you murdered her."
"Ay, and would have murdered you, when you were a weak puling child,
but for that fool Ismail, he met his fate, however, and yours is yet in
store for you."
"You will not see it," said I; "and when I behold you hung up like a
dog I shall be happy."
"Peace!" exclaimed the leader of the Nujeebs; "why do you waste words
on him, Ameer Ali?"
"Because I am glutting my soul with his sufferings," I answered; "and,
had I my will, I would stand by and taunt him till the hour of his
death. Did he not murder my mother? and, if he had not, should I have
murdered my sister? Have I not cause for deep and deadly hate? Yet I
will be silent now."
We reached Saugor, and the delight with which the officer received
Ganesha from my hands could not be concealed. "A deep blow has been
struck at Thuggee in the capture of this villain," said he, "and thou
hast done thy duty well, Ameer Ali."
From that hour I rose in his confidence and estimation, and I have
never forfeited it. Ganesha's trial came on, and I was the principal
witness against him. I told all I knew of the murders he had committed,
and others corroborated my statements in the fullest manner. He was
sentenced to die.
In vain was it that I entreated to see him before his execution; I
wanted to taunt him with his fate, and to embitter his last hours,
if anything I could have said might have done so. It was denied me;
the officer knew of my purpose, and was too humane to allow it. But
I saw him die--him and twenty others--all at the same moment. He
saw me too, and cursed me; but his curses were impotent. They all
ascended the fatal drop together--refused the polluting touch of the
hangman--adjusted the ropes round their own necks--and exclaiming
"Victory to Bhowanee!" seized each other's hands, and leaped from
the platform into eternity. I watched Ganesha, and I joyed to see
that his struggles were protracted beyond those of the others. I was
satisfied--he had paid the debt he owed me.
And now, Sahib, after this event, my life became one of dull routine
and inactivity. One by one I tracked and apprehended my old associates,
till none of them remained at large. The usefulness of my life to
you has passed away, and all that I can do is at times to relate the
details of some affair I may either have witnessed, or heard from
others. Why should I live? is a question I often ask myself; why
should an existence be continued to me in which I have no enjoyment,
no pleasure, no care, not even grief? I have remorse but for one act,
and that will never leave me. Yet I must support it until Alla pleases
to send the angel to loose the cord which binds my life to the clay it
inhabits.
I used often to think on my daughter; but her too I have almost
forgotten; yet I should not say forgotten, for I love her with a
parent's affection, which will last to the latest moment of my
existence. But she is happy, and why should she know of me?
I fear that I have often wearied you by the minute relation of my
history; but I have told all, nor concealed from you one thought,
one feeling, much less any act which at this distance of time I can
remember. Possibly you may have recorded what may prove fearfully
interesting to your friends. If it be so, your end is answered; you
have given a faithful portrait of a Thug's life, his ceremonies, and
his acts; whilst I am proud that the world will know of the deeds and
adventures of Ameer Ali, the Thug.
THE END.
COX AND WYMAN, PRINTERS, 74-75, GREAT QUEEN-STREET.
Transcriber's Notes
Obvious errors of punctuation and diacritics repaired.
Hyphen added: "court-yard" (pp. 47, 118), "every-day" (p. 118),
"fire-places" (P. 143), "heart-rending" (p. 29), "mid-day" (pp. 222,
233), "to-night" (p. 94).
Hyphen removed: "brushwood" (p. 135), "nightfall" (p. 113),
"sweetmeats" (p. 111).
Changed "fakeer" to uppercase "Fakeer" for consistency.
For consistency, the final "h" was dropped from the following words:
"Bismillah", "Moolah", "Poonah".
The following alternate spellings have not been changed: "befel" /
"befell", "Bhilla manjeh" / "Bhillmanjeh" / "Bhil manjeh", "Peroo" /
"Peeroo", "worshiped" / "worshipped", "villan" / "villain".
Duplicate words removed: "at at" (pp. 30, 267), "I I" (p. 57), "the
the" (pp. 89, 175), "with with" (p. 217), "is is" (p. 229), "to to" (p.
216).
p. vii: "stowns" changed to "towns" (in the principal towns).
p. 5: "hs" changed to "he" (he came to me).
p. 7: "Scindia" changed to "Sindia".
p. 9: "nigh" changed to "night" (leave the town in the night).
p. 19: "Fukeers" changed to "Fakeers".
p. 24: "peshcar" changed to "peshkar".
p. 25: "Brij Lal" changed to "Brij Lall".
p. 23: "lac" changed to "lakh" (one lakh and sixty thousand rupees).
p. 25: "Jeysookhdass" changed to "Jeysookhdas".
p. 29: "bittterly" changed to "bitterly" (I lay and moaned bitterly).
p. 33: "unwieldly" changed to "unwieldy" (He was a large, unwieldy man).
p. 39: "enterprize" changed "enterprise" (the plunder of our late
enterprise).
p. 50: "horse" changed to "horses" (the horses charge).
p. 54: "sharpens" changed to "sharpen" (These matters sharpen one's
intellect).
pp. 61, 64: "Moossulman" changed to "Moosulman" (Remember you are a
Moosulman, a Moosulman by his appearance).
p. 64: "Oomerkhair" changed to "Oomerkhér".
p. 64: "opportuninity" changed to "opportunity" (a good opportunity of
getting away).
p. 73: "yon" changed to "you" (you may perhaps be able).
p. 79: "buiding" changed to "building" (that noble building, the Char
Minar).
p. 80: "aud" changed to "and" (and bid him come early).
pp. 84, 175: "whe" changed to "who" (those who carried them, who
appeared to be the chief).
p. 89: "opportunites" changed to "opportunities" (which give capital
opportunities).
p. 97: "man" changed to "men" (by one of our men).
p. 99: "Budrinath" changed to "Bhudrinath".
p. 102: "Is it" changed to "It is" (It is on order, Sahib, drawn in
favour of Kumal Khan).
p. 104: "nor" changed to "not" (We did not return).
p. 117: "beautyfying" changed to "beautifying" (freely expended in
beautifying).
p. 118: "Ellichpore" changed to "Ellichpoor".
pp. 120, 125: "Subjee" changed to "Subzee".
p. 133: "then" changed to "them" (it is needless to repeat them).
p. 138: "them" changed to "then" (now and then).
p. 140 (twice): "Jamadar" changed to "Jemadar".
p. 140: "diving" changed to "driving" (what he was driving at).
p. 144: "lest" changed to "left" (since he left Saugor).
p. 198: "disapearance" changed to "disappearance" (no one could account
for his disappearance).
p. 199: "shampoe" changed to "shampoo" (sat down to shampoo him).
p. 205: "Hydayut" changed to "Hidayut".
p. 206: "arrear" changed to "arrears" (The revenue was never in
arrears).
p. 211: "new" changed to "now" (now and then).
p. 217: "hankerchief" changed to "handkerchief" (I tied a handkerchief
over my mouth).
p. 232: "attemped" changed to "attempted" (attempted to lay hold of
him).
p. 234: "travelllng" changed to "travelling" (the danger of travelling
alone).
p. 236: "sorrrow" changed to "sorrow" (your experience with sorrow).
p. 239: "gripe" changed to "grip" (my fatal grip).
p. 239: "boddice" changed to "bodice" (I tore away the bodice).
p. 246: "successsful" changed to "successful" (thou wilt be successful).
p. 247: "on" inserted (he was going on a journey).
p. 252: "hestitated" changed to "hesitated" (But still Bodhee
hesitated).
p. 259: "tatoos" changed to "tattoos" (four tattoos and some bullocks).
p. 267: "Lucknow" changed to "Lukhnow".
p. 275: "offerered" changed to "offered" (free pardon which was
offered).
p. 278: "fellews" changed to "fellows" (six resolute-looking fellows).
End of Project Gutenberg's Confessions of a Thug, by Philip Meadows Taylor