Boast not of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what the
day to come may bring forth.
PROVERBS.
“Your highness,” answered the merchant, “may easily see what has
brought me hither. Look on that table.”
“Ha! the phials. True; I--I had forgotten. Will these be sufficient?”
“There is enough in one to destroy an army.”
“Is it of that powerful compound essence you described to me?”
“It is,” answered the wretched man, trembling the while so much, that
his words were scarcely audible.
“You have not yet distributed any portion of it in the vases?”
“Not yet. I have just come hither for the purpose.”
“Stay awhile. I am not sure yet whether I shall adhere to my original
purpose. These rajaputs, they have served me well in that tumult. They
rescued my own life from peril. But for them the house in which my
friends were assembled, would have been levelled to the ground. But
again, can I depend upon them at the moment I am proclaimed? Have you
heard aught else of that chieftain of theirs, Mohabet, whom you said
they talked of elevating to the throne instead of me?”
“No more than I have already told your highness. What they said amongst
themselves, as I overheard them in their discourse, was, that they did
not see why they should not have an emperor of their own blood.”
“Of course, they reviled the Persian--the upstart--the son of the
portrait-painter,--did they not?”
“They said a great many things, which I dare not repeat to your
highness.”
“Caitiff! tell me all; or, by the Heavens, you die!”
“They did use the words you have mentioned.”
“Villains! they shall soon be with Fazeel. Open the phials.”
The unfortunate slave, already wasted to a mere skeleton, could
scarcely collect from his trembling muscles, sufficient strength to
uncork the phials.
“And yet, if Mohabet could be secured; for, on whom am I to depend, if
these rajaputs fail me? My confederates among the omrahs are, after
all, but few. The slightest turn of fortune against me would sever the
bond between us. True--I have bought over a large party amongst the
people, by giving them largesses, and by promising to divide amongst
them the mines of Golconda. Could I be but secure of their fidelity!
Yes--open the phials. Let me see--it is not a liquid.”
“It is a composition to be spread by this brush at the bottom of the
vases into which the wine is to be poured.”
“Bring hither the vases.”
“By this time,” said Bochari, throwing himself on the divan, while
his demon-like agent was employed in collecting the vases from the
tables--“By this time, the fate of the emperor, and of his two choice
ministers, is sealed. That was a splendid combination--Auzeem--the
wisest of men, as he believed himself to be, whom I so long succeeded
in cajoling; Kazim, whom I dreaded even more than the emperor; and,
above all, Nourmahal, who, if she lived, would have overthrown me
by the mere exhibition of her presence in the palace before the
people,--all cut off by one masterly movement! It was a grand act in
this swelling drama. All collected in one focus, by my management.
Auzeem, my prime agent, and at a moment too, when he, perhaps--for he
is a consummate dissembler--conceived that he was forwarding his own
plans for the restoration of power to Jehangire! It was excellent.
Little did they expect, when this morning’s sun rose, that they should
be sleeping to-night in the bed of the Jumna! Such was the account you
received, also; was it not?”
“Did your highness speak?”
“Why, man, you tremble as if you were looking on an evil genius. What
is the matter?”
“Has your highness seen nothing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Methought I saw shadows moving near you.”
“Ha! ha! ha! The shadows of the emperor, I suppose, and of his faithful
ministers.”
“Alas! if the report be true, they are in a cold and lowly sepulchre.”
“If true, sayest thou? Doubt it not.”
“There they are again; they stare upon me through the portal. Oh,
mercy!--mercy!”
The emperor had been attracted to the bronze gate, where Auzeem and
Kazim could not help remaining to witness the issue of this scene of
treachery and guilt. The light flashing on their countenances as the
merchant passed near them, struck his soul, already steeped in crime,
with terror. They instantly drew back; and, prepared by a simultaneous
impulse, if the gate were opened, to rush at once upon the usurper, and
slay him on the spot. But the merchant’s terror took a different turn.
“No!--of the emperor’s blood, these hands are guiltless. It is
Fazeel--see--see--and his brave companions--the victims of my cursed
act. Oh! kill me a thousand times--but look not at me thus!” exclaimed
the wretch, falling on his knees, and clasping together his withered
hands.
Bochari rose from his couch, looking almost as pale as his companion.
“This is a madness that has come over you! Come--come.”
“That is he--that is he--the real murderer. Not me--he it was who did
it all--I was but a machine in his hands.”
“Another word of this, vile slave! and this knife shall be buried in
your heart.”
“Heart? Oh! you will find neither heart nor blood here. Here is my
naked breast; relieve me of life--I ask nothing more.”
Bochari paused, while he contemplated, with horror, the convulsed
features of his accomplice. The knife fell from his hand on the marble
floor. Affrighted by the sound of his own weapon, he started back. The
torch, still held between the trembling hands of the merchant, glared
upon the countenances of the two murderers. They looked as if they had
already met in those regions upon which Hope is never to dawn!
The emperor and his companions, now fully aware of the dangers which
they had just escaped, looked forward with just alarm to those which
they had still to encounter. Matters had arrived at such a crisis, with
respect to Bochari, that there appeared to be no crime which he was
not ready to perpetrate; no hazard which he was not resolved to court,
in defence of his usurpation. Lavish as he had been in his presents
to the Orcha rajaputs, and faithful as they had hitherto been to his
cause, nevertheless, it seemed that as the hour approached, which was
to put their allegiance to the most important test, he trembled for
their sincerity. He was to be proclaimed emperor of Hindostan, as soon
as the sun should appear above the horizon. But how long should he
retain the throne, which was to depend for its security upon such venal
support? They had already divided amongst themselves the provinces of
the empire. Should they proceed to take possession of them, what was to
become of his crown?
The people! Could he look to them for assistance? He had sent his
emissaries amongst them to canvass for their voices--to purchase
them--and he had received promises of extensive aid. But the great
danger he had to apprehend was that arising from the ambition of
Mohabet, a proud and fierce Orcha chieftain, whom some of his followers
seemed resolved to set up in opposition to the Persian. It would be a
disgrace; they said, to their ancient blood, and to the rank which they
had formerly held in the empire--a rank which they had now a favourable
prospect of recovering--to prostrate themselves before a foreigner of
mean birth, who possessed no title whatever to the throne except his
sword. Without them, that sword would be of little value. Counting upon
the facility with which they had hitherto maintained him in possession
of supreme authority, they began to feel that they were themselves the
real masters of the empire, and that the throne was a prize which it
was in their discretion to bestow upon any person whom they thought fit
to elevate to the imperial mantle.
Bochari was fully aware of the notions which the rajaputs entertained
upon this subject. He felt all the insecurity of his position,
and scarcely knew what measures he could take to improve it. The
destruction of the whole band, by means of the deadly composition which
his unhappy agent had prepared, suggested itself to his mind as an
alternative, in case he should find the populace in his favour. But if
the latter failed him, then he had no resource to fly to except the
rajaputs. Agitated by the doubtful prospects in which he was involved,
he had invited all the Orcha chieftains, and as many of their followers
as the large bath could hold, to a banquet, at which they were to swear
allegiance to him, after his proclamation the following morning. He had
instructed the merchant to diffuse over the interior of the wine-vases
the solution contained in the phials; and yet, at the moment when that
operation was to have been carried into effect, he entered the bath, in
order to prevent it. Again he wavered in his purpose--again resumed it.
The thought occurred more than once to Auzeem, that while the two
demons--for such they might be truly called--were holding their
atrocious council, it would have been a most just retribution, if,
after placing his companions in safety, he should hasten to the
sluices, and suffer the Jumna to avenge the cause of the empire. But
the idea, that the destruction of Bochari at that moment, would only
lead, very probably, to the proclamation of Mohabet, instead of the
Persian, taught him the prudence of delay.
Meantime the morning was rapidly advancing. Bochari, still doubtful as
to the course he should take, beheld his prime instrument before him,
in the last agonies of death. The wretched man had never known what it
was to possess a peaceful mind, since the period when, seduced by a
large reward, he had made the weapons of Fazeel’s escort powerless in
their hands. Before that time, he had given his time and his thoughts
chiefly to chemical experiments, in which he displayed uncommon
perseverance, and a wonderful acquaintance with the secrets of nature.
But, in following up his labours, he reduced himself to the lowest
degree of poverty. To redeem his fortunes, he accepted the infamous
mission confided to him by Bochari; but the price for which he bartered
his soul, was soon exhausted, and then he had nothing to depend upon,
save the precarious bounty of his patron. In return, he was compelled
to refuse no task, however criminal it might be, which that hard master
imposed. Tranquil sleep he never knew again. Horror filled his mind,
and attenuated his frame to such a degree, that he looked the very
picture of the evil one. His residence was a secret chamber in the
tower occupied by the Persian; and there, through the lonely night, he
pursued experiments dictated by his tyrant, with a view to discover the
compounds most capable of extinguishing life in the shortest possible
space of time. He was right in stating, that of the phials which he had
placed on the table in the banquet-room, the quantity contained in one
alone would have been enough to cause the destruction of an army. The
slightest portion of it, lodged in the bottom of a large vase, would be
sufficient to poison all the wine it could contain.
But there was now little time for deliberation--the day dimly dawned
through the dome-lights of the bath. The wretched merchant, overcome
by the terrors with which his soul had been appalled, and reduced to
the last extremity of impotence by misery and disease, gave up his
wearied spirit on the floor. There was no other creature in existence,
to whom Bochari dared to intrust the secret of his infernal design. He
had not the time to accomplish it himself, for the sounds of shoutings
were already echoing through the air. To execute the work partially,
would only expose him to discovery, and to certain revenge. There were
upwards of five hundred vases on the tables. When he beheld their
number, and looked on the breathless thing, upon whose agency he had
depended, a pang of despair shot through his frame, which, like a flash
of the anger-lightning of Heaven, opened before him the dreadful volume
that contained the record of his crimes.
“Oh! those shouts,” he exclaimed, “are they for, or against me?
Methinks, I hear them utter the cursed name of Mohabet. Hush! What is
to be done? This body--how am I to dispose of it? Bochari! do they
say? These phials--if found here, will betray all. Let me hide them
in my girdle. My ataghan!--what has become of it? Aye, here it is. It
may yet serve me to good purpose, when all other weapons fail. I must
wrap this horrid burthen in my cloak,--true, it is not very heavy--and
bear it on my back to his chamber! Courage--they come. Bochari? Yes--it
is--in every voice--Bochari--Bochari! The diadem of India is mine.
The people are with me. The artillery confirms the tale. Oh! glorious
sounds. Roll on--I come. They call for Bochari--the emperor! Now let
the Orchas call me the foreigner--upstart--if they dare!”
Saying these words, he took up his knife, and stowing the phials in his
girdle, and covering the lifeless body with his cloak, he placed it on
his back. He then retraced his way by the marble steps, and disappeared.