CHAPTER XLV.
Four days passed, and the merchant was still in our company. He wasslightly attended, and we could have terminated his existence wheneverwe pleased; but we were anxious to carry him on as much of the journeyas we could, and to baffle any traces of our route, by turning to theright and left, away from the regular tracks, and by footpaths andbyways only known to ourselves. Yet we had got far enough, and I knewthat the next day's march would lead us through a jungle, which was oneof our favourite bhils, and where I had from the first determined thathe should die.
We were on the road early on the fifth morning, and as before (indeed,as was my wont) I was riding at the head of my party. It was nowdaylight, but we were entering the jungle, and I was merry in my heartto think that he was in my power, and that a large and valuable bootywould be our prize in the course of a short hour, when I saw an animalmove in the bushes on my right hand. Another instant, and a hare againcrossed my path! I laughed within myself. Fools that they are, thoughtI, these brethren of mine! no Jemadar but myself would dare to pursuethis track after so dire an omen; himself and his whole band would fly,as though a hundred tigers were in their path, and would leave theirbunij to escape, or to follow them, as his destiny might guide him. ButI!--I laugh at it: once I have proved that the omen is harmless, andshall it deter me now? Ah, no, no! my game is sure, and within my grasp.
And so it was. Sahib, we had not gone a coss, when I saw the place Ihad determined on; and there the merchant died and his two servants.Yes, he died by my own hand. I pulled him off his pony and strangledhim; and the servants were cared for by the others, but not before oneof them had cut down one of my men; for in my eagerness to possessmyself of the prize before me, I had not seen that the servants of themerchant could observe my actions. The poor fellow who had fallen wasdreadfully wounded; yet he still breathed. What to do with him I knewnot: we could not wait, and to transport him with us was out of thequestion.
"What shall we do with Anundee?" said I to Laloo: "we are far from ourstage, and we cannot, with our large party, say we have fallen amongthieves."
He solved my doubts at once. "Put him out of his pain," said he; "theman is dying: what matters another thrust? he can be buried with therest. The men might not like it if they saw it, but all here areengaged, and most of the band have gone on. We can wrap him up in hissheet afterwards."
I drew my sword and stepped towards the dying wretch; he lookedsupplicatingly towards me and strove to speak, but my heart was hard.I was sickened by the deed I had done, and I prayed Alla to forgive methe blood of the miserable creature.
Wretch! said I--interrupting Ameer Ali--and you murdered your owncompanion, your brother to whom you were sworn?
I did, Sahib, I did; yet why call it murder? He would have died in ashort time; I did but rid him of his misery.
It was a foul deed, Ameer Ali; and one that haunts your memory, I doubtnot.
Sometimes, was the careless answer of the Thug; and I bade him proceed.
We wrapped the body in the sheet which was around its waist, havingtaken the money from the waistband. Laloo and myself carried it to thegrave, now nearly filled to the top.
"So he is dead!" cried the Lughaees; "he could not have lived longafter that cut: the fellow who gave it would have done for more of ushad not some of us seized on him; but we have laid him quietly,--hewill break no more good men's heads: and as for poor Anundee, he mustbe buried with the rest, for to burn him is impossible in this lonelyplace."
And he _was_ buried; they deepened the centre of the pit, put someheavy stones over him, and covered him with earth: and I felt a loadtaken from my heart as he was covered from my sight for ever. OnlyLaloo knew what I had done, and I knew him to be faithful and silent:nevertheless I often afterwards wished either that another had done thedeed, or that I had let him die.
A rare booty we had, Sahib. After we had eaten the Goor at the nextvillage, we hastened on to the end of the stage; and before we ungirdedour loins I opened the caskets and divided the spoil. Not only had themerchant brought the necklace I have mentioned before, but a heap ofunstrung pearls; and on reckoning up their probable value, we estimatedthe amount at twenty-five thousand rupees. Now therefore we had noinducement to tarry away from our homes; we needed no fresh adventureto enrich us, and we pushed on to Jhalone. We reached it in safety,and again I clasped Azima to my heart, and rejoiced to see that mychild was well, and with a girl's eagerness looking forward to thetime when her marriage ceremony was to take place. My father too waswell, and had reached Jhalone without any adventure worth recording,so at least he told me. But of Ganesha there was no news, save thathe had diverged to the eastward, and was supposed to have gone in thedirection of Benares; and I little cared, except that the revenge forthe destruction of the Moonshee's son rankled in my heart and was notforgotten.
Months passed at my home without care, and in peace. Alas! now that Ithink on it, I can only compare the course of that time to the gentlestream of a river, which, as it winds among peaceful scenes and betweengreen and flowery banks, ruffled only by the soft winds playing overits bosom, is suddenly arrested, dashed among rocks, and its currentchanged to turmoil and furious contention with its stony opposers. Isaw no mark of my future lot, no warning was given to me; destructioncame upon me in one fell swoop, and I was overwhelmed--I and mine!But for that stroke of fortune I had lived till now an honest andgentle life, for I abandoned Thuggee; and the more I experienced ofthe soothing pleasures of my home, the more I became estranged frommy habits of wandering, and of plunder and destruction. Nor was theleast urgent reason in the meditated change of my life, that I dreadedevery day more and more that some unlucky chance would reveal to Azimathe dreadful trade I followed. I could paint to myself the effect itwould have on her loving and gentle disposition, and the prostration ofevery faculty of her existence, under the shock of knowing that I wasa murderer; and often, as she lay upon my heart in the dead of night,these thoughts have come so thick on me, that could her soul have heldany mysterious communion with mine, she would have recoiled in horrorfrom my embrace, and fled from me for ever. And these fancies recurredso frequently and forcibly, that sometimes I almost thought them awarning of coming evil, and I had fully determined to remove my abodeand my wealth to Delhi, after my daughter's marriage, there to residefor the remainder of the days which might be allotted to me.
I have said months passed without incident; I should have mentionedthat an English gentleman, some time after my arrival, came to Jhalone;and in the many conferences he held in secret with the Rajah, we weregiven to understand that a treaty of some kind or other had been made,and that he had placed himself under the protection of the EnglishGovernment. I thought not of it: yet even then a system was workingsilently yet surely, which, for a time, struck at the power andconfederacy of the Thugs a blow as severe, nay more so, as being morelasting, than any they had yet experienced.
The Englishman had left Jhalone some time, and his visit was nearlyforgotten by us; my daughter's marriage had begun, and everything wasrejoicing in my house. About noon one day one of the Rajah's Hurkarascame with a message that he required my presence and my father's in theDurbar, on particular business. In vain was it that I excused myself onthe plea of the marriage ceremony. The messenger would take no excuse;and at last, seeing no alternative, we girded our loins and accompaniedthe Hurkara.
We were ushered through the various courts to the Dewan Khana, wherethe Rajah sat in Durbar, surrounded by his Mutsuddees and soldiers.Leaving our shoes at the entrance, we were as usual advancing towardshis Guddee to make the customary salutations, when a sudden rush wasmade upon us from both sides of the hall, and we were at once seizedand disarmed. In vain I struggled with my captors, in vain I attemptedto shake them off by the most strenuous exertions; it was useless: Iwas surrounded and overpowered, my turban was torn rudely from my head,and my arms were bound so tightly with it, that I thought the bloodwould have burst from under my nails. I desisted at last, and remainedpassi
ve in the hands of the soldiers. My hour is come, and my fate hasled me on thus far to desert me at last! thought I; it is the will ofBhowanee and of Alla, why should I resist?
Seeing me quiet, the Rajah addressed me. "Ah, Ameer Ali," said he;"what is this I hear of thee, that thou art a Thug, a common murderer?Can this be true of one who was looked up to in Jhalone as a merchant,and a respectable man? What hast thou to say? Speak, man, and prove ifthou canst to me, that the accusations I hear against thee are false."
"Rajah," said I, "I know not who hath poisoned thy mind against me ormine; is there any one in your city who can speak one word against,me? Have I not been fair and honourable in my dealings with all,and with thyself, too? Have not I managed villages and brought themto prosperity from desolation? and can any one, young or old, inthis Durbar say that I have ever wronged him, or defrauded him of afraction? Rajah, none can say this; and therefore, why am I and my oldfather thus disgraced in the eyes of the city, and torn from our housesin the midst of the rejoicings of marriage?"
"_I_ accuse thee not," said the Rajah; "Bhugwan alone knows whetherwhat I hear is the truth or not; but witnesses are many against theeand the old man; let them speak, and we will afterwards decide in yourcase. Bring them forth!" cried he to an attendant; "one by one let themgive their evidence before these unhappy men: we desire no secrecy inthis matter."
There was a moment's pause in the assembly, and every eye--a hundredeyes were upon us. I looked to my father, to see the effect hissituation had on him; but I read no hope in the glance he threw onme; his energy had deserted him, and he looked like a convicted felonlong before he was so in reality; he returned my anxious and meaningglances by a stare of stupid apathy or extreme fear,--I know not which;and it was pitiable to behold him, for his venerable and respectableappearance but ill assorted with the disgraceful situation he was in.I turned away from him to look at the man who entered, and then Ifelt that my doom was sealed. I have never mentioned him, but he hadbeen connected with our gang from the first as a Tilhaee, or scout,and had afterwards assisted as a Bhuttote on many occasions. His namewas Sooruj; he had accompanied me on all my first expeditions, andhad served under my father for some time before I became a Thug; hetherefore knew every particular of my career, and until I became aPindharee described every event with minuteness and fidelity, omittingnot one nor adding in any way to those I had been so deeply concernedin. He offered to point out the spots upon which travellers hadbeen destroyed, declared the amount of booty we had gained on manyoccasions, and ended by denouncing both my father and myself as thegreatest leaders in Bundelkhund, as men who could take the field at anytime with two hundred followers or more, and as cruel and remorselessThugs. He dared me to disprove his words, and indeed I quailed underhis accusations; for they were true, and truth searches the heart andoverwhelms the guilty. But against my father he was the most bitter."Look on him, Rajah!" cried he; "look on this hoary wretch! onewould think that, old as he is, he would have ceased to deprive hisfellow-creatures of life; that he would have spent the remainder ofhis days in propitiating Bhowanee by sacrifices, and his own Prophetby prayers! yet it has not been so. Within the last two months hehas returned from an expedition laden with spoil, and the last manhe strangled was one of thine own subjects, oh Rajah,--one who wasrespected and beloved here, and whose bereaved family will rue this daythat I have declared his fate in your Durbar."
"One of my subjects!" cried the Rajah; "thou canst not mean it. Speak!and let not fear prevent your disclosing the truth."
"Fear! Rajah, I know it not. If I feared him, that old man, should Ihave dared to speak as I have done? Listen; you knew Jeswunt Mul, oneof the most respectable of the shroffs of Jhalone?"
"Knew him, oh messenger of ill tidings! Jeswunt Mul is not dead?"
"Ask _him_," said the man hoarsely; "or stay, ask the other man youhave here; let him be brought forward, he will tell the tale; I saw itnot. But Jeswunt Mul will never speak more, and let those who believethe good man safe at Saugor shave their mustachios and mourn, for hewill never more be seen. Yes, he is dead, and _that_ old man looked onwhile he writhed out his last agony under the roomal of the Bhuttote;"and he pointed at my father, while he regarded him with a look of grimand revengeful pleasure.
There was a general shudder through the assembly, as the deep tonesof the informer's voice fell on the ears of those who heard it; and"Jeswunt Mul dead!" was repeated by many in an incredulous tone as theydrew into knots and whispered together. Nor was the Rajah himselfleast struck by the melancholy information. He sat on his musnud insilence, though it could be seen by the working of his features howmuch he was affected. But he aroused himself at last.
"Thou didst not then see this murder?" said he to the informer.
"I did not, Maha Rajah; but send for Bodhee, he will relate theparticulars."
Bodhee! thought I; then there is indeed no hope. Until his name wasmentioned, I had a faint idea that the accusation might be a fabricatedone; especially as I had heard nothing of the sahoukar's fate frommy father: but Bodhee had been with him, and he was the chief of theLughaees, and it was more than probable that he had dug the grave forthe victim.
"Let Bodhee be brought forward," cried the rajah.
He came; his fetters clanked as he moved, and it was not until he hadadvanced into the midst of the Durbar that he beheld my father andmyself bound and as criminals. The sight staggered him, and well itmight; he had been trusted by us, raised to the rank he held by myfather, and ever treated by him as a son, though he was of a differentfaith to ours. His face was convulsed by his emotions--they might havebeen those of a faithful heart struggling against ingratitude; and Ilooked with a breathless anxiety to the first words which should fallfrom him. But before he spoke the Rajah addressed him.
"Miserable wretch!" said he, "your life has been spared on thecondition that you speak the truth, and reveal, without reservationof a single circumstance, every deed of murder you have been engagedin: this has been promised you by the English, and you have now toprove that you will perform your engagement. If you do perform it,well; if not, though the English are your protectors, I swear to youthat you shall be dragged to death by my elephants ere a ghurree oftime has passed over you. Bid the elephant be brought!" cried he to anattendant; "and see that the chains are ready. By Gunga! there will bework for him ere long: and now," continued he to the approver, "knowestthou aught of the death of Jeswunt Mul of this town,--he who used tomanage my private affairs, or if he indeed be dead? Speak, and rememberthat truth alone can save you."
There was a breathless silence; my father gazed at the informer withan intense anxiety; it was evident to me that he thought one word fromhim would seal his fate for ever, or that, should he deny the deed,he would escape. Earnestly, imploringly, he looked at him, and theinformer was well nigh overcome; he trembled in every limb, and the bigdrops of sweat stood out on his face, while the veins of his foreheadswelled almost to bursting.
"Speak, Bodhee!" said my father in a hollow voice,--yet still hesmiled,--"speak, and tell the rajah that his poor servant Ismail is notguilty of this deed."
"Silence!" exclaimed the Rajah; "gag him if he attempts to utter a wordto influence the informer; we will do justice in this matter; and you,Meer Sahib (turning to a respectable-looking person who was seated nearhim), you shall be able to tell the Sahib-logue that justice can bedone in the Durbar of Jhalone. Bring up the elephant," he cried to theattendants; "and do you, Bodhee, look your last on the earth and sky,for by Gunga, I swear, thou art nigh to death if thou deceivest me. Iread it in thy face that this matter is known to thee."
But still Bodhee hesitated: there was evidently a struggle within himwhether he should die in defence of his old protector, or betray him tosave his own life. For a moment the former feeling prevailed; he turnedto the Rajah, and said distinctly and firmly, "May I be your sacrifice,Maha Rajah! I know nothing of this matter: of other murders I can tellyou, but I know nought of this."
"He lies!" said the othe
r approver; "he was with Ismail Jemadar; he isafraid to speak out, and has lied to you, O Prince."
"You hear him," cried the Rajah to Bodhee; "you hear what yourfellow Thug says; yet, much as you have deserved death, I give youa few moments more: the shadow of the verandah is now close on mymusnud,--till it reaches it thou shalt live--beyond it, one finger'sbreadth, and you die!"
There was not an eye in the crowd that was not fixed on the advancingshadow; barely a hand's breadth of light remained, and the Thuggazed on it as though he were fascinated by the eye of a tiger. Myfather! oh he was fearful to look on; his eyes were glazed--his lipswere tightened across his teeth--fear, _agony_, was depicted in hiscountenance in stronger lines than I had ever before seen. I could notlook on him--his face was altered, and his usual bland expression hadbeen usurped by that I have described. I felt sick, I could have died Ithought; and would that I _had_ died, to have been spared what followed.
"Fool!" cried the other approver, "will you sacrifice your life forthose who will be instantly put to death?" He spoke in Ramasee.
The words rallied the man to whom he addressed them, and they saved him.
"Pardon, pardon!" he cried; "O, mighty prince, I have told lies.Jeswunt Mul is indeed dead; these hands dug his grave, and bore his yetwarm body to it."
"Ai Bhugwan! Ai Seeta-ram!" cried the Rajah, "and is it even so? My poorfriend, and art thou dead?" and for a moment or two he wept. "This iswomanly," said he, rallying himself. "Proceed, O kumbukht! Let me knowall, and what share _he_ had in it."
"We met the Sahoukar at ----," said the Thug. "Ismail well knew thatif we were all seen by him he would suspect us, so he sent the greaterpart of the band out of the village, and prevailed upon Jeswunt Mul tocome and sleep in our camp, instead of remaining where he was. He wentto the village, and brought him away himself, else he would not havecome. The grave was dug long before he arrived; and he had not beenan hour with us after the sun had set, when he was strangled in theJemadar's presence by two Bhuttotes; and his two servants shared thesame fate. I buried them all. The Sahoukar's pony we sold the next dayfor twenty-five rupees; and we got but little else, for he had no moneybut in hoondees, which we burned."
"Enough, enough," said the Rajah; "this is ample proof."
"Nay, if your greatness requires more proof, I can give you some now,"continued the approver. "Look at the Jemadar's hand: he wears on it aring he took from the body himself, and it may be recognized even byyou, Maha Rajah."
My heart sank within me at this new and desperate stroke of fortune. Isaw the ring torn from my father's finger. All examined it. A Sahoukarwho was in the assembly declared it to have belonged to Jeswunt Mul,and, more than all, his name was engraven on its inner surface.
"Enough!" again cried the Rajah; "I know it myself. I could have swornto that diamond among a thousand. Away with him! chain him to theelephant; let him be dragged through the town, and proclamation madethat he was a Thug."
"Stay," cried the Syud, who had not as yet spoken, "he may havesomething to urge in his defence. Ask him, and hear him."
"Speak!" cried the Rajah to my miserable father--"speak, O kumbukht!"
And then my father's proud spirit broke out. With the certainty ofdeath before his eyes, he quailed not. While hope remained of life,he had clung to it, as every man will; and when I had expected agrovelling entreaty for his life to be spared, from his previousdemeanour, he asked it not, but gloried in the cause for which he died.
"Yes," said he, drawing himself up, while his eye glistened proudly, "Iscorn to die with a lie upon my lips. I killed Jeswunt Mul because hewas a villain, as you are, Rajah! because he employed Thugs, and wouldnot reward them, but wrung from them every rupee he could, as you do.I have murdered hundreds of men, because they were given into my handsby Alla; but I never destroyed one with the satisfaction I did yourfriend. Ay, you were friends and brothers in guilt, and you know it.My life! I care not for it. What has an old man to do with life? hisenjoyments are gone, his existence is a burthen to him. A short time,and nature would have claimed me. You have anticipated the period. Yet,O Rajah! Bhowanee will question you for this deed--for the destructionof her votary. My blood be on your head, and the curse of a dying manbe with you! You have deceived me, robbed me, shared my spoils, takenthe produce of murder; nay, be not impatient, you know it is the truth,and that Alla, who is the judge of all, knows it also. He will castyour portion in Jehanum, as a kafir; and Bhowanee will rejoice that thedestroyer of her votary writhes in the torments of the damned."
"Gag him! strike the kafir's mouth with a shoe!" roared the Rajah in afury, more like that of a beast than a man, as he foamed at the mouth."Away with him! and let his son look on his dying agony."
And they dragged us both forth,--I should not say my father, for hisstep was firm. I struggled against my tormentors, but it availed menot. "One word, my father!" cried I to him as we were brought near eachother. "Wilt thou not speak to thy son?"
He turned his head, and a tear stood in his eye. "I leave thee, AmeerAli; but thou knowest a believer's Paradise, and the joys which awaithim--the seventy virgins and everlasting youth. Thou art not my son;but I have loved thee as one, and may Alla keep thee!"
"No more!" cried the rough soldiers, striking him on the mouth, anddragging him forward.
"Revenge me!" exclaimed my father in Ramasee. "Tell the English of thatmonster's conduct to us; and when he is torn from his seat of pride, mysoul will be happy in Paradise."
He spoke no more; I was held forcibly, so that I saw the end of thatbutchery. They secured him by a chain round his loins to the fore-footof the elephant, and they tied his hands behind him, so that he couldnot save himself by clinging to it. He still continued repeating theKulma; but now all was ready--the Mahout drove his ankoos into the headof the noble beast, which uttering a loud scream, dashed forward. A fewsteps, and my father's soul must have been in Paradise!
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