Honour to him, who knows no fear,
But seeks the thickest fight;
While thousands fall before the spear
Held by that arm of might.
Antar.
It was with the utmost difficulty that Mangeli, even with all the
assistance she could receive from her affectionate child and consort,
maintained her presence of mind, during the progress of the painful
scene just terminated. All personal anxiety was, however, now no
further thought of. The safety of the emperor was the principal object
of their solicitude, and the events, about to occur, became every
moment of such absorbing interest, that measures of a decided nature
could no longer be postponed.
Jehangire declared his readiness to return at once to his apartments in
the palace, or even to proceed into the market-place of Agra, to shew
himself to his people, and thus to afford the best contradiction to the
rumours that had been circulated of his assassination. Auzeem feared,
that in the present state of things, any step of this kind would be
attended with a degree of hazard which ought not to be incurred. The
reign of the usurper, he said, was clearly drawing to a close. He
felt no doubt that the jealousy of Mohabet would speedily deprive the
Persian of the support of the main body of the rajaputs, and that if
the rival candidates for the throne, which they supposed to be vacant,
were left to settle their disputes amongst themselves, they would both
soon perish.
Under these circumstances, Kazim strongly dwelt upon the expediency of
the emperor’s proceeding, with as much secrecy as possible, to Delhi,
where he would be certainly received with open arms, and be defended
with the utmost fidelity and enthusiasm.
Auzeem inclined to this opinion, which Jehangire cordially adopted. He
would never hesitate, he said, if he had the opportunity, of throwing
himself upon the love of his subjects, in any part of his empire.
Whatever his personal faults and errors may have been--and that they
were numerous he would not deny--he was conscious of no act to which
he had been a willing party in his sovereign capacity, that was not
intended to promote the happiness of those whom Providence had placed
under his authority. Now that he was no longer under the restraint,
which had for more than two years kept him a prisoner in his own
palace, he was prepared to dare any danger, in order to rid the empire
of the oppression by which it was disgraced.
It was then resolved that, at all events, Jehangire, attended by the
chancellor and his family, should proceed, by the Jumna, towards Delhi,
in a covered boat, if one could be immediately procured,--that Auzeem
should remain in Agra, to watch the course of events; and that if those
events should assume, as he confidently expected, a favourable turn,
he should despatch faithful messengers to inform the emperor, and to
recall him to the capital forthwith.
It was still the grey of morning. Auzeem hastened towards the
apartments which had been so opportunely abandoned the night before,
and looked anxiously through the window, hoping that Zeinedeen’s boat
might present itself. He had no doubt that the solicitude of the
hermit, for the safety of the late prisoners, would have induced him to
collect all the intelligence he could as to the events going on in the
city, and to hover about in the river, until he could communicate them
without danger of detection.
Fortunately Auzeem was not disappointed. The hermit’s boat was already
under the window. Auzeem desired him instantly to row on close to the
wall, until he should come to an iron gate, and to wait there. While
Zeinedeen was occupied in executing this direction, the minister
conducted his companions to the gate, and, raising the upper division
of it, by means of the machinery of the sluices, shewed them the
hermit’s boat just outside. Their embarkation was but the work of a
moment: the awning of the little vessel was immediately adjusted;
consisting of a canvass, which, being spread over hoops, completely
screened the passengers from view; and a sail was set, which, catching
a favourable breeze, bore the precious bark gaily against the lethargic
current of the Jumna.
Jehangire felt transported with delight at the sudden change which
had taken place in his circumstances. He was now beside her who had
been so long the object of all his waking and sleeping visions of
felicity. Nothing was wanted to complete his happiness in that respect,
except the legal sanctions of marriage, which he was resolved to have
performed by the cadi of the first village at which they could land,
without incurring any danger of premature discovery. He was in the
bosom of a family he esteemed, not only on account of his Nourmahal, as
he now loved to call her, but because they had been uniformly zealous
in their attachment to him. The chancellor he admired for the noble and
disinterested character which he had displayed on every occasion that
called it into action; and the hermit, whose learning, and virtues, and
splendid intellect had won his regard the first hour he had known him,
gained so rapidly upon his heart, that he was resolved, if possible, to
detain him always near his own person.
The bark was speedily out of sight of the capital, and beyond the
reach even of its sounds. Zeinedeen turned out to be an excellent
pilot. While they proceeded on their way, he stated that at midnight,
according to appointment, he had gone to the apartments of the
merchant, where he waited for two hours. Just as he was coming away, he
met Bochari at the door, who asked him what had brought him there. To
this question he found it difficult to give a direct answer, without
violating the confidence reposed in him by the merchant. He therefore
said that he was there at the request of the latter, who had promised
to explain some experiments of a chemical nature, in which he was
engaged; but as the merchant was not there, he would return another
time. Zeinedeen confessed that he much doubted whether the Persian
would, upon this representation, permit him to depart. However, finding
his movement not opposed, he proceeded down the stairs of the tower,
and returning to his boat, anxiously rowed up and down opposite their
prison window, until he was called by Auzeem.
The emperor related to Zeinedeen all that they had witnessed in the
bath. The hermit was horror-struck. He lamented the fate of the unhappy
man, who had evinced a degree of contrition for his crimes, which
promised much in favour of his future efforts to expiate them as far as
he could, by a total change of life, and supplications to the Merciful
One. Whatever were his notions upon this point, it appeared highly
probable that his object, in making the midnight appointment with
Zeinedeen, was to inform the latter of some project he had contemplated
with reference to the sluices. It was evident that he had prepared them
for some purpose or another, which he dared not reveal to Bochari, and
of which the latter entertained not the most remote suspicion.
The voyagers met scarcely any boats, except those of poor fishermen.
One of these they employed to procure them a store of provisions at a
farm-house, near which they passed. The provender thus obtained was
not very sumptuous, consisting chiefly of hard boiled eggs, some cold
fowls, a few cakes of unleavened bread, a basket of grapes, and a jar
of spring-water. The fresh air of the Jumna, however, gave the party a
relish for any thing they could obtain. Jehangire separated the limbs
of one of the bipeds with considerable tact, and distributed it with
his own hand. Kazim undertook the division of the bread; and Nourmahal,
spreading some vine-leaves on her lap, arranged there the bunches of
grapes, which she dispensed with a smiling hospitality, that dispelled
the gloom of the night from every body’s countenance.
Her exertions, in this respect, were readily assisted by Zeinedeen,
who, as the bark rode steadily along over the rippling waters, related
various anecdotes of his life, interweaving with them admirably drawn
portraits of distinguished persons, whom he had known during his
intercourse with the world. From these he deviated into those tales
with which our Asiatic world abounds, much to the delight of Jehangire,
who owned that the cares of state had not yet been able to erase from
his mind the recollection of the raptures with which, when a boy, he
pored over the wondrous narratives of “The Enchanted Horse,” “The Forty
Thieves,” “Aladdin,” and “The Merchant of Bagdad.”
“The human mind,” observed the hermit, “is truly a most astonishing
creation. The more we examine it, the less we can comprehend it.
We listen, as the child, the youth, the matured man, nay, as the
patriarch, with intense earnestness to the story-teller, while he
is weaving his web of fiction. We know that his production has no
truth in it, and yet, I doubt if truth, in its most attractive forms,
can exercise over us the charming influence which those productions
possess.”
“I confess,” said Kazim, “that I must plead guilty to the same frailty,
if such it may be called. Many histories--many books and systems
of philosophy, which I have studied with all the diligence I could
command, have totally vanished from my memory. But I can even now
repeat, word for word, the adventures of the three princes, Houssain,
Ali, and Ahmed, during their struggle for the hand of Nourounihar.”
“I remember it well,” said Jehangire, “and that piece of tapestry he
purchased at Bisnagar, by sitting on which, he was enabled to transport
himself wherever he wished.”
Thus conversing, they arrived at length within view of a considerable
village, where the emperor knew there must be a cadi. He immediately
requested Zeinedeen to land, to proceed to the cadi’s house, and to
make arrangements for the solemnization of the ceremony, which was now
the first object of all his thoughts. Zeinedeen joyfully performed the
mission with which he was charged. The whole party debarked in the dusk
of the evening, and under the names of Selim and Mher-Ul-Nissa, were
united the two, whose hearts had long been intertwined by the most
ardent affection. The cadi, a venerable old man, who had never stirred
beyond the precincts of his village, little dreamed, when he was
setting down those names in his register, that he recorded the marriage
of the emperor and Nourmahal. The simple forms of the law having been
thus complied with, the party returned to their boat, and resumed their
voyage towards Delhi.
Meanwhile, Auzeem, upon whose fidelity, prudence, and courage, the
fate of the empire now devolved, having carefully restored the upper
division of the sluices to its usual position, returned through the
subterraneous passage, near enough to the bronze portal, to be enabled
to observe every thing that might take place within the bath; or
rather, as it should now be called, the banquet-chamber. Soon after
Bochari had taken his departure, crowds of male and female slaves
entered the chamber and proceeded to heap the tables with cold viands,
filling the vases with rich Cabul wine, and making all the necessary
preparations for the inauguration feast, which was to be commenced at
sun-set.
Bochari had succeeded in reaching his own apartments, without meeting
any obstacle. Thence he conveyed his horrid burthen to the secret
chamber previously occupied by the merchant. Having carefully secured
the door, he again listened, as the sun rose, to the sounds that were
rapidly approaching the citadel, until he convinced himself that he
heard his own name vociferated again and again. He felt, therefore,
no further hesitation in proceeding to the palace. There he met about
two hundred of the rajaputs, who, upon his appearance, hailed him as
emperor of Hindostan.
He accepted their congratulations in a confused and awkward manner;
and when the imperial mantle, which two of the chieftains held in
their hands, was placed upon his shoulders, he trembled violently,
as if he had been seized by some fatal pestilence. He, however, soon
shook off the uneasy sensation, and entering the hall, in which the
emperor usually gave audience to the people, he ascended the throne.
The great state drum was then struck as a signal to the artillery on
the ramparts; and the gates of the citadel were thrown open, when
some hundreds of the lowest dregs of the populace appeared in the
great square, shouting “Long live Bochari, emperor of India!” Many of
them appeared intoxicated with wine. Some were evidently malefactors,
who had been permitted to escape from the prisons, upon condition of
aiding in the cry of the minions, who had been hired to proclaim the
new sovereign. The homage of such a motley crew had nothing in it of
a character to redeem their want of numbers. The exhibition of their
scantiness in that respect, as well as of the miserable apparel in
which they were brought to perform their assigned task, struck upon the
Persian’s heart as a fatal omen.
He had been taught by his agents to expect that many of the opulent
merchants of Agra had espoused his cause, under the hope that he would
elevate them to the rank of omrahs. He was further led to believe
that the artizans, and a large number of the people, above the class
of mendicants, would join in hailing his accession to the throne. But
when he looked at the villanous bands before him, waving their ragged
turbans and girdles, or tossing up in the air their greasy caps, he
could not conceal from himself that his power was much more secure
when he wielded it in the name of Jehangire, than it could be with the
sceptre in his own hands.
Bochari speedily discovered, also, that the attendance of the rajaputs
was by no means numerous. There were nearly a thousand of that body
altogether in his pay, and yet not above two or three hundred, at the
utmost, were present to greet his accession to the crown. Mohabet was
absent, together with all the rajaputs who were suspected of adhesion
to that chieftain’s cause.
These circumstances wore a sinister aspect. Nevertheless, all the
fire of his ambition glowed within him, when he beheld the diadem,
glistening in its glorious pride of jewellery, placed before him upon
a cushion, and beside it the massive golden sceptre, set with emeralds
and rubies. Rising, he gave the signal for the great state-drum to be
again struck, and the silver trumpets to be sounded. He then planted
the crown upon his head--beneath the weight of which, however, he
felt as if he were sinking into the earth. The sceptre, also, he
grasped, but with a tremulous hand. The rajaputs, and the groups in the
square, again hailed him with the title of emperor; and the ceremony
being concluded, the miserable pageantry of the usurper’s first court
speedily passed away.
The intelligence of his accession, together with the rumours spread, in
every quarter, of the emperor’s abdication and death, diffused a deep
gloom over the capital. Mohabet and his friends kept in close council
the whole of the day. They learned from their emissaries, from time to
time, a variety of circumstances, which enabled them to conclude, that
nothing would be less difficult of execution at that moment than the
complete overthrow of Bochari. They saw, that without their aid, he was
utterly powerless, and they therefore resolved, that unless he agreed
to assign to their party the principal offices of state, and the best
subahships in the empire, they should no longer acknowledge him as the
sovereign.
The question, whether, after dethroning him, Mohabet should be set up
in his place, was attended, however, with greater difficulties than
they had at first foreseen. It was soldiers of their party who had been
despatched to Kazim’s prison, charged with the sanguinary commission
they had declared. But their promised victims had either escaped, or
must have been immolated by other hands. They could gain no clear or
decisive information upon this point. They sometimes suspected that
Bochari had concealed the emperor in some secret chamber of the palace,
for the purpose of using his popularity against Mohabet, in case the
latter should gain the ascendancy; but, at all events, they determined
on attending the inauguration banquet, to which they had been invited,
well armed. Before swearing the great oath of allegiance, they would
interrogate the Persian; and if they were satisfied as to the death or
abdication of the emperor, they would then compel him to concede the
terms they had already talked of, or transfer the throne to Mohabet.
The latter, accompanied by about three hundred of his partizans,
proceeded in a body to the palace an hour before sunset, and, entering
the banquet-chamber, took their places at the tables. Bochari was duly
informed of their arrival, which he heard of with a lively sense of
pleasure. He looked upon it as a token of their adhesion to his cause,
which, from their absence during the morning, and the whole of the day,
he feared they had determined not to support any longer. Accompanied by
the two hundred rajaputs, who had remained faithful to him, decked out
in the most brilliant attire with which the imperial wardrobes could
furnish, he proceeded at the appointed hour to the place of meeting.
The silver trumpets, stationed on the fifty steps that led down to the
chamber, announced the approach of the new sovereign, who, as he moved
forward, surrounded by his guards, wearing the crown of Hindostan upon
his head, and bearing its sceptre in his hand, assumed for the moment
an appearance of real dignity, which, one would hardly have supposed,
the Persian could exhibit.