CHAPTER XIV.
We passed the village of Ulwal, its white pagoda peeping from amonggroves of tamarind and mango trees, and its large tank now glisteningin the rays of the sun; and pursuing our way, we saw, on passing aridge of rocks, the camp of the army at the far-famed Hoossain Sagor,or, as it is more often called, Secunderabad. The tents of the Englishforce glittered in the bright sun, and behind them lay a vast sheetof blue water. We had heard much of this lake from many persons onour journey, and as we passed it a strong breeze had arisen, and thesurface was curled into a thousand waves, whose white crests as theybroke sparkled like diamonds, and threw their spray into our facesas they dashed against the stonework of the embankment. We stood along time gazing upon the beautiful prospect, so new to us all, andwondering whether the sea, of which we had heard so much, could beanything like what was before us. I have since then, Sahib, twice seenthe sea; I need not attempt to describe it, for you have sailed overit; but when I saw it first, methought I could have fallen down andworshiped it, it appeared so illimitable, its edge touching as it werethe heavens, and spread out into an expanse which the utmost stretch ofmy imagination could not compass,--a fit type, I thought, of the Godof all people, whom every one thinks on, while the hoarse roar of thewaves as they rolled on, mountain after mountain, and broke in angryfury against the shore, seemed to be a voice of Omnipotence which couldnot fail to awaken emotions of awe and dread in the most callous andunobservant!
We passed the embankment of the tank. As yet we had seen nothing ofthe city; but there was a ridge not far off, and as we ascended it Icould no longer control my impatience. I spurred my horse, and before Ireached the top shut my eyes, that whatever was before me might burstupon my view at once. My horse slackened his pace when he reachedthe top, and allowing him to go on a few steps I opened my eyes, andglorious indeed was the prospect before me. Beneath lay Hyderabad, theobject of many a conjecture, of many an ardent desire to reach it--thefirst city of the Dukhun, justly celebrated throughout the countriesI had passed. I had imagined it, like every other I had seen, to bein the midst of a plain, and that all that would be visible of itwould be here and there a minaret rising out of large groves of trees:but Hyderabad presented a different aspect. I stood on the crest ofa gentle slope, which to my right hand was broken at some distanceby rude, rocky hills, and to the left appeared gradually to descendinto a plain, which stretched away almost uninterruptedly to thehorizon. Before me, on the gentle rise of the valley, and beyond whereI supposed the river to be, lay the city, its white terraced housesgleaming brightly in the sunlight from amidst what seemed to me at thedistance almost a forest of trees. The Char Minar and Mecca Musjid roseproudly from the masses of buildings by which they were surrounded; andhere and there a white dome, with its bright gilt spire, marked thetomb of some favourite or holy saint, while smaller mosques, I mightsay in hundreds, were known by their slender white minarets.
Beyond the city rose another connected chain of rocky hills, which ranalong until they met those on the right hand, and shut in the valleyon that side. The city seemed to be of immense extent; but I thoughtfrom the number of trees that it was composed principally of gardensand inclosures, and was much surprised afterwards, when I entered it,to find its streets so filled with houses, and the whole so thicklypeopled. It was altogether a most lovely scene: the freshness of themorning, the pureness of the air, and the glittering effect of the cityand its buildings caused an impression which can never be effaced frommy memory. I have seen it since, and though it is ever truly beautiful,it never struck me as it did that day. But I was then young, full ofspirits, and flushed with the consciousness of my own powers, justdeveloping, and assuring me that they would lead me to eminence.
One by one, as the Thugs came up, each ejaculated his praise of thebeautiful scene, and all declared that the capital was worthy of theencomiums they had heard lavished on it. Inquiring the nearest roadto the karwan, we descended the slope, and threading our way throughnumberless suburbs we reached the place, and were at the end of ourjourney. We were grateful for it, and for the protection and successwe had met with. We took up our abode for the present in a seraiwhich surrounded a large and richly ornamented mosque; and for ourgreater convenience I went in search of an untenanted house, and aftersome difficulty succeeded in hiring a small place, the property of amerchant who resided next door. It contained only three rooms, andthe verandah, which was the shop; but it was enough for my father andmyself, and there was a small room with a strong door, in which westowed away all our plunder. Zora was overjoyed at reaching the placeof her birth, and what was in reality her home, and could talk ofnothing but the delight of meeting with her relatives and friends, andthe surprise her arrival would excite in them all, as she said theyhad considered her lost to them ever since the Nuwab had carried heroff. The almost certainty of her being separated from me as soon as shewas again in their power never occurred to her, and I determined thatbefore she visited them I would lay all my fears before her, convincedthat her affection for me would be the best guide for her conduct.
Our landlord the merchant was very civil and attentive to our wants,though his civility evidently proceeded in a great measure fromcuriosity as to who we were and what was our object. I stated to him ina few words our old story--of my father being a merchant, and myself asoldier of fortune who had accompanied him in search of employment. Hewas now curious to know of what my father's stock in trade consisted;but we were resolutely silent upon the subject, although he offered hisagency to dispose of our goods. "For," said my father to me afterwards,"our goods I know are valuable, and I know not their worth; nor have weas yet opened the bales; we will do so to-morrow morning, and assortthem: we will then go into the city to the shops of the sahoukars,and inquire for articles similar to them, find out their prices, andby this means be enabled to value our own. Were we to offer them inignorance of their market prices, we might be suspected; and though wemay not get what they are intrinsically worth, we shall no doubt beable to sell the whole for a handsome sum."
I agreed with him perfectly, and the next morning we set to work toopen the bales. Their contents were indeed costly,--brocades, cloth ofgold, fine muslin scarfs, also woven with gold and silver patterns,plain muslins, and a few shawls, besides fine cloths of differentkinds for wearing-apparel, and sarees with silk and tissue borders,the latter from the looms of Nagpoor. These and the jewels in ourpossession, when laid out and assorted, made a display on which wefeasted our eyes for some time, wondering at their magnificence; andafter I had made an inventory of the whole, my father and myself,attired in handsome clothes and mounted on the best of our horses,attended by a few of the men, took our way into the city. Crossing overan old but massive bridge, below which ran the river, now a shallowstream, we entered by the gate at the head of it, and inquiring our waywent direct to the chowke, or market-place, where we trusted we shouldfind goods exposed for sale similar to our own. The streets were narrowand dirty, and the interior of the city certainly did not answer theexpectations we had formed from its outside and distant appearance;still there were evident tokens of its wealth in the numbers ofelephants, on the backs of which, in canopied umbaras, sat noblemen orgentlemen, attended by their armed retainers. Crowds of well-dressedpersons paraded the streets, and as the festival of the Mohorum hadjust commenced, cries of "Hassan! Hoosein! Doola! Deen! Deen!" and athousand others familiar to us resounded on every side.
We made our way as well as we could through the throng, and ourattendants were often obliged to clear us a passage, which exposedthem to the jeers and abuse of the multitude, as they were recognizedas strangers from their dress and language. Once or twice I observed ahand laid on a sword by some respectable person who had been jostledor pushed by our men, and heard a deep threat muttered; but we managedto get along, and at length came to a broader street, where the crowdwas less dense; and here that noble building, the Char Minar, burst atonce upon our view. "How grand!" I exclaimed, stopping my horse andlooking up to the hug
e minarets, which seemed to pierce the clouds; "tosee this alone is worth a journey from Delhi." The minarets formed thefour corners of the building, and from them sprang immense arches whichsupported a roof, upon the top of which a small mosque was built. Itdid not look capable of supporting the immense weight of the whole, andyet it had stood for centuries, and the fabric was unimpaired.
"It is the hour of prayer," said my father, interrupting my gaze; "andhark! the Muezzin calls from the Mecca mosque; thither we will nowproceed, and afterwards transact our business."
I followed him, and passing by the Char Minar, we turned up a streetto our right, and stopped our horses at the gate of the mosque. Afeeling of awe mingled with admiration came over me as we entered thecourt-yard and advanced along a raised causeway to the foot of a flightof steps which led up to the interior. On either side of us were thegraves of princes and nobles, many of them of elegant forms and richlycarved; but the building itself engrossed my entire admiration. Fivelofty and wide arches opened to view the interior of the edifice, wherean equal number appeared in depth; and where the arches met, the eyewas perplexed by the innumerable points and ornaments, which, runninginto each other, completed a roof of exquisite design and workmanship.To add to its beauty, the whole was of stone, carefully smoothed,whereas the Char Minar and the other buildings I had as yet seen wereof stucco.
But I had little time to observe more; the sonorous and melancholy callof the Muezzin had ended, and the few attendants for the afternoonprayer had spread their carpets and commenced their devotions. Wejoined them, and, kneeling on our outspread waistbands, went throughthe usual forms, while the low murmur of the prayers of all ascendedto the fretted roof and added to the solemnity of the scene. To themajority of those present there was perhaps nothing new or uncommon;but I, who had escaped the dangers of our journey and those attendanton our profession, felt that it went to my heart; and, murderer as Iwas, though not as yet callous, I was softened, and my tears flowedfast as I repeated the words of prayer, and the impressive language ofthe blessed Koran in which they were couched. The ceremony concluded,we rose; and though I was well disposed to linger in the sacred edificeand observe more of its beauties, my father hurried me away, and wereturned to the Char Minar.
"Here," said my father, "those useful rogues the dullals are to be metwith. They will try to cheat us, no doubt, as it is their trade; butas we are not purchasers, we may avail ourselves of their aid to findout the houses of the merchants who deal in our articles, and it may bethat the fellow we fix on will be intelligent and assist us to disposeof our property." We stopped on reaching the building, the lower partof which was sadly disfigured by numbers of wretched huts and stalls,where venders of vegetables and sweetmeats sat, and served out theirgoods to the passers-by. My father, calling to a decent-looking youngHindoo, of intelligent countenance, asked him where he could meet witha dullal, as he was a stranger in the city, and wished to see someclothes and other goods, which he did not know where to find.
"I am one at your service, noble sir," he replied; "and I know well therichest warehouses, and can lead you to any you wish; and," added he,"there is not a sahoukar or dealer in the city who will not readilygive your poor servant, Moheno Das, a character for sobriety andtrustworthiness."
"You had better not say much of your good qualities till they have beenproved," said my father; "your tribe has not the best reputation onthese points."
"Ah," said the man, "my lord is well aware of what (alas that I shouldsay it!) the majority of our tribe are--a sad set; nevertheless, hisslave will not be found to be like them, for having begun by beinghonest, he has not found it worth his while to be otherwise."
"That is as much as to say you would be dishonest if it suited yourinterests," said I; "but come, the day wears fast, and we are anxiousto be out of this crowd before dark."
The fellow gave me a knowing look, accompanied by a shrug of hisshoulders, which could not be mistaken; what I had said had proved tohim that we were on our guard. "What description of goods may you be insearch of?" said he; "any may be procured, from the shawls of Cashmereand brocades of Benares to the meanest article."
"Benares fabrics are what we require," said I; "a few handsomeroomals and doputtas, and a turban or two, to adorn ourselves for theminister's durbar."
"You shall see them," said the dullal, girding his shawl about hiswaist. "Now follow me, and keep a good eye on me, lest you lose me inthe crowd." And so saying, he descended the steps of the building,and led us along some of the principal streets, till we dived intoan obscure alley, and stopped at the door of a house which certainlypromised nothing from its exterior.
"A very unsatisfactory search we should have had," said I to my father,"had we endeavoured to find out a merchant ourselves. It is well wetook this fellow with us."
"These merchants, I have heard, usually choose these secluded placeson account of their security," replied my father. "It would not do ina lawless place like this to expose goods for sale as they do in othercities. But they are well known, and easily found out by strangers ifthey apply to the dullals as we have done."
We were ushered into the interior of the house, and were received bya large fat man, the very counterpart of the sahoukar I had killed. Istarted involuntarily at the resemblance; but soon recovering myself,and assured by his civility, I seated myself, as did also my father,and we quickly entered on the object of our visit. One by one baleswere opened and their contents spread before us. The sahoukar's stockseemed to be interminable and of great value. We selected severalarticles, and inquiring the prices of those which we inspected, ofwhich I made memorandums, we desired them to be kept for us, sayingthat we would call the next day with money to pay for them. Thesahoukar pressed us to take them with us, and the dullal offered hissecurity for us; but for obvious reasons we declined, and took ourleave of the merchant.
The dullal accompanied us as far as the Char Minar, where my father,slipping a piece of money into his hands for his trouble, told him wenow knew our way home, and bid him come early in the morning to thekarwan, and inquire for the house of Rugonath Das Sahoukar, where hewould get tidings of us. "So far I am satisfied," said my father; "ourgoods, as you will have observed, are equal in quality to those we saw,and by the prices affixed to them we have a good earnest of a large sumof money, if we can only dispose of them, a matter I apprehend of nodifficulty if properly managed."
The next morning came the dullal. "Canst thou be secret?" asked myfather at once, and throwing him a couple of rupees. The fellow startedand trembled.
"If such is my lord's will," said he, his teeth almost chattering withfear, "I can; but I am a poor man, a very inoffensive man. I am mylord's slave, and rub my nose on his feet," cried he at last, fairlythrowing himself on the ground and rubbing his forehead against theground, as he saw my father's brow contracting, and his face assumingan expression of anger at the evident suspicion which the man had of us.
"Why," cried my father, as the fellow lay on the floor whimpering,"what is this? what chicken-hearted son of a vile woman art thou? Inthe name of Alla get up! Because a man who, Inshalla! is somebody, asksthee whether thou canst be secret, must thou of necessity think thouart going to have thy throat cut?"
"Do not talk of it," cried the wretch, shutting his eyes andshuddering. "I am a poor man and a miserable Hindoo; what would mylord get by cutting my throat?"
"Nay," said my father, "this is beyond bearing; the fellow has not thesoul of a flea. Kick him out into the street, and beat him on the mouthwith a slipper: there are plenty of dullals to be found beside him."
"Pardon, noble sir!" cried the fellow--the mention of his trade leadinghim to suppose that he was required in the way of his calling--"pardonmy foolishness. My lord's threatening aspect turned my liver intowater; but now that he smiles again, I am assured that no harm ismeant."
"Harm! surely not to such a wretch as thou," said my father; "but sincethou art inclined to listen to reason, sit down, and hear what we haveto say to thee.
"
"I can be secret," cried the dullal; "let my lord speak."
"It will fare badly with thee if thou art not," said my father, againlooking grimly at him: "but listen. I am a merchant; I have neverbeen at this city before; but hearing at Delhi that an investment ofvaluable goods, such as we saw yesterday, was likely to sell well here,I have brought one down with me. I knew not the selling prices here,and therefore engaged thee to show me some goods, that I might be ableto regulate the sale of my own. Now, canst thou manage it for me?"
"Surely, surely," said the fellow in delight, "nothing is more easy. Mylord will not, of course, forget my perquisites on the sale?"
"Thou shalt have five rupees in every hundred's worth disposed of,"said my father: "will this content thee?"
"It is a princely offer, and worthy of my lord's generosity," said thedullal. "Might I be permitted to see the goods?"
"It is necessary that you should see them, and here they are," rejoinedmy father; and he opened the door of the room where they were, and oneby one displayed the contents of the bales.
"This is indeed a rich stock," said the dullal; "you may be able tosell most of the cloths, but I question whether the whole, without youintend to remain here some time."
"That depends upon circumstances over which I have no control," said myfather; "if I cannot sell them all here, I shall take what remains toPoona."
"Well," said the man, "if I am permitted, I will make memorandums ofall that there is here, and in the course of to-morrow will let youknow what can be done. I cannot do so earlier, for I shall have tovisit all the dealers."
"Do what you think best," said my father, "and here are ten rupeesfor your expenses. Now begone, and let me see you again at this timeto-morrow." The fellow made many salams and took his leave.
"Did you ever see so pitiful a wretch?" said my father. "For twocowrees I would have strangled him on the spot, to put an end to sodisgraceful a coward."
"Let him pass," said I; "he is but a Hindoo, and not worth thinkingof. But you are not going to let him off with all the money you havepromised him?"
"Of course not," replied my father; "you understand, I suppose, what isto be done?"
"Perfectly," said I; "leave him to me."
I went to Zora, my own gentle Zora. She had been speaking much ofvisiting her kindred, and though I had put her off as well as I couldsince we arrived, I saw with concern that I had no longer any pretextfor detaining her. I could have fled with her--I think I could. Suchwas the intensity of my love for her, that, had I had the courage tospeak of flight and she had agreed to accompany me, I verily believe Ishould have forsaken father, associates, and profession, and committedmyself to the world. And if I had, said the Thug, musing, should I havebeen worse off than I am now? should I ever have worn these disgracefulfetters? have ever doomed myself to perpetual imprisonment and astate of existence which I would to heaven were ended, and should beended, but that I have (and I curse myself for it), a mean, base, aye,cowardly lingering for life! Sahib, I tell you it would have been wellfor me had I then fled--fled from guilt and crime, into which I dailyplunged deeper. With my soldierlike figure, my address, my skill inthe use of arms, I might have gained honourable service; I might haveled armies, or have met a soldier's death on some battle-field! But itwas not so written; it was not my fate, and I am what I am--a curse tomyself, and to all with whom I have ever been connected.
Zora! she thought not of my anxiety; all she hoped for, cared fornow, was to see her mother and her sister. She assailed me withimportunities that I would send her, and assured me that she would notbe long absent, but go to them she must; they would so rejoice to seeher again, and would welcome me as her deliverer. After seeing themshe would return to me, and we should never again be parted. "Alas!"I said, "my Zora, you know not what you ask. Do you think that thosecharms are of no value to your mother and sister? You have owned to methat you are far more beautiful and attractive than any of those youare connected with. In your absence they will have sunk into obscurity,and they will hail your return as the earnest of more wealth and moredistinction."
"Nay, these are cruel words, my beloved," she replied; "you well knowthat I have never deceived you, and that, as true as that I breathe, mysoul is yours for ever. So let me go, I pray you, and in a few hours Ishall be again with you, and pressed to your honoured breast."
"Be it so," said I, sadly; for though I hardly dared think it, I feltas if this was our parting for ever. "Go, then; and if you return not,I will come to you by the evening." A covered zenana cart was easilyhired; and the driver seeming perfectly to understand where she wishedto go, she stepped joyfully into it, attended by her old servant, and,with two of my men to attend her, she left me.
They soon returned; but they knew nothing, save that there was greatjoy in the house when her relatives saw her. Towards evening I couldno longer control my impatience; and, taking one of them with me, Imounted my horse and rode to her house. It was situated nearly oppositea fountain, which is in the centre of the street below the Char Minar,and I had passed it the day before. I was easily admitted; and oh! whatjoy was evinced when I entered the room where Zora, her sister, andmother were seated. "He is come!" cried my poor girl, and she rushedinto my arms. She strained me to her breast for an instant, and then,holding me from her, "Look, mother!" she cried; "look on him; is he notas I said--is he not as beautiful and brave!"
The old lady approached me, and, passing her hands over my face,cracked her knuckles, and every joint of her fingers, by pressing thebacks of her hands against her temples, while the tears ran down hercheeks. This she did as often as there was a joint to crack; and thenshe caught me in her arms and hugged me, crying at the same time likea child. The sister received me, I thought, rather coldly. Had I beenless handsome, perhaps, she would have been more cordial; she did notseem to like Zora's having so handsome a lover.
"May the blessing of the Prophet and the twelve Imams be on you andyour posterity!" cried the old lady, when she had recovered breath tospeak. "May the gracious Alla keep you in his protection, and may thelady Muriam and the holy Moula-ali bless you! You have made a desolatehouse full again, and have changed our weeping to joy. What can I saymore? Who could have thought it was our Zora when a cart stopped at thedoor? Zenatbee was just saying that it was that vile wretch Sukeena,come to pretend condolence, while in reality she rejoiced at ourmisfortune, which left her without a rival; and I was saying--no matterwhat I was saying--when we heard a faint cry, as if of astonishment,and a bustle, and we did not know what to think; when in rushed ourlost Zora, our pearl, our diamond; and then I thought my old heartwould break with joy, for my liver seemed to be melted; and I have donenothing since, Meer Sahib, but sit opposite to her, and stroke her facewith my hands, and gaze into her eyes, to assure myself that I am notmistaken. Inshalla! to-morrow I will send five rupees to every shrinein the city, and distribute sweetmeats to fifty beggars in the name ofthe Imam Zamin; besides, I will have a tazea made, and will no longerwear these mourning garments. Ah! Meer Sahib, if you knew how I havesat day after day, and wept till I am reduced to a mere shadow of whatI was! and all my friends tried to console me, but in vain; I wouldnot be comforted." And her tears flowed afresh at the recollection.
What the old lady was before her grief commenced I cannot pretend tosay; but in her present plight she appeared the fattest woman I hadever looked upon. We sat conversing and relating our adventures untilthe evening fell; and I spread my carpet for prayer. "Ah, he is a goodSyud," said the old woman; "I like to see the young fond of theirdevotions; but it is ever thus with the noble race from Hindostan."
I was preparing to take my departure, when they one and all cried outagainst it. "What! leave our house before you have broken bread anddrunk water with us?" It was not to be thought of--I must stay--dinnerwas prepared; they were just on the point of sending for me when Icame; and, above all, it was the ninth day of the Mohorum; and Imust stay, were it but to see the procession of the Nal Sahib. Thatsacred
relic, one of the shoes of the horse the blessed Prophet rodewhen he fled to Medina, would be carried in grand procession, and Ishould never have a chance of seeing the like again. These reasons,and many imploring looks from Zora made me speedily determine; so,sending away my horse and the man, with a message to my father to sayI should not return, I gave myself up to a night of enjoyment, such asI little expected when I parted with Zora in the morning. The dinnerwas excellent, and the old lady's cooking unexceptionable. There wereall sorts of curries, with but a mouthful in each little cup, but stillsufficient of each to leave an exquisite flavour in the mouth, onlyto be replaced by another surpassing it--pilaus of various kinds, andsweetmeats; and, to crown all, some delicious wine of the infidelscalled the Francees, which the old lady pronounced not to be wine, butsherbet, and allowed to the Huzoor himself, the great Sikundur Jah. Itcertainly was very delicious, and elevated the spirits. At the end,after taking a whiff or two, she carefully wiped the mouth-piece, andpresented me with her own hookah, the fragrance of which was beyondthat of ambergris or musk. I was in paradise!--I was intensely happy!
"You have heard me sing," said Zora to me, "when I was in captivity,and, after the fatigues of travel, in our little tent, where therewas no scope for my voice; now my heart is glad and bounding, and youshall hear me again--may the Prophet pardon me for singing duringthe Mohorum!--and you shall say which you like best; my sister shallaccompany me till I am tired, and I will then accompany her."
A saringhee was brought; Zenat tuned it, and, taking the bow, playeda short prelude. It was one of the most entrancing sounds I had everheard. Zora surpassed all her former attempts; it was ravishing tolisten to her; and her sister, who was a perfect mistress of theinstrument (a strange thing for a woman), gave it its full force ofmelody and expression. You know, Sahib, how nearly it accords to thehuman voice; and now, as accompaniment and song rose and fell together,it appeared as though two of the richest, fullest voices were pouringforth strains such as angels might have come down from the skies tohear.
But at last the noise of drums and shouting outside became so great,that both gave up in despair. "A plague on them all," said she; "and Iin such voice, that I could have sung to you all night! And have I sungwell?"
"Ay, have you," said I; "but methinks the first song you ever sung tome, at the palace in Oomerkher, will dwell longer on my memory than anyI have heard since."
"Ya Alla!" exclaimed Zenat who had moved to the window; "was there evera sight so magnificent! Come and see; 'tis passing fast, and will besoon out of sight."
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