CHAPTER XXIX.
Almost as they spoke, the Khan's retinue approached, and, preceded byits band of spearmen, some horsemen, and the party of the old Duffadar,swept round the corner of the adjoining street. Very conspicuous amongthe cavalcade were the figures of the father and son riding together;the Khan in his morning suit of heavy cloth-of-gold, which glitteredrichly in the sun; his son, plainly dressed in white muslin.
Fazil rode a led horse of his father's, which he sat with perfectconfidence and control of the fiery animal; but his countenanceexpressed anxiety which he could not restrain. In truth, he felt,notwithstanding his assurance to his father, that if he weresubjected to a strict examination, he should be ill able to accountsatisfactorily for the various events of the night without compromisingothers. In regard to Maloosray, he had one witness in the kullal; andthere was nothing to implicate him in the occurrence at the temple, incase it should form subject of inquiry. No, he could not now recede.
As to the old Khan himself, no thought of fear disquieted him.He considered that he was only humouring a whim of his son's inaccompanying him, that he might insure the Duffadar's being freed fromblame. Suspicion of aught affecting the safety or honour of his househad never entered his mind; and he had ridden along gaily, causinghis fine war-horse to caracole and bound, free from all thought ofuneasiness, except what might result from the delay.
As the party entered the gate, they were met by several persons deputedto receive them, and returned the respectful and hearty greetings ofthe soldiery on duty, to whom they were well known. Dismounting at theend of the court, they passed through to the next, where already manysuitors and complainants were assembled. There, too, on a bed whichhad been placed in a side-room, lay the Lalla, with a sheet drawn overhim, which Fazil saw was stained with blood. The Lalla had coveredhis face; but the pink colour of his turban, and its peculiar tie,were not to be mistaken. So, passing all, and receiving and returningsalutations, they entered the room of audience, where, surrounded by afew Mutsuddees, or scribes, sat the Kotwal himself.
Jehandar Beg was a Persian by birth, a man of some learning and muchcunning, but really intelligent. Those were times when the service ofIndian princes was eagerly sought for by Persians, Turks, Affghans,and even Abyssinians; and adventurers often rose to princely rank andhonour in their service. Jehandar Beg was one of these. When young hehad accompanied a relative to the Dekhan court, the prince of whichwas a Sheea--his own faith--and where, among others of his countrymen,the historian Mahomed Kasim Ferishta had been distinguished. He hadrisen steadily in the King's service, and proved himself brave in thefield, as well as sagacious and trustworthy. Having attained to hispresent office, he was, in the main, respected, and was the dread ofall night brawlers, sharpers, and thieves, whom he punished heavily;but he was fond of money, and it was whispered that, in grave offences,he had his private price. After all, what mattered that? Occasionally agreat person was fined, or otherwise punished, and so men's mouths werestopped, and the Kotwal believed to be a great man.
Jehandar Beg's appearance was magnificent. He always wore the peakedlamb's-wool cap of Khorassan, and the Persian robe; and his rich browncomplexion, and dark-brown curly beard, grave features, and large softblack eyes, combined to render his face a remarkable one, not easilyforgotten. The expression seldom varied; nothing ever caused him tolaugh in his court--rarely to smile--nor did he ever express anger.Happen what might, his habitual gravity never relaxed for a moment, andthere was no man who could tell a lie, conceal a fact, or change anopinion--or, in the course of duty, order the torture, and look uponit, with such perfect imperturbability as he did.
His office was at once arduous and difficult, but he was not restrictedin power. In cases of life and death, perhaps, and if the criminal wereof importance, reference might be made to the chief legal authority orto the King; but, as far as minor punishments were needed, the loppingoff of an arm, a hand, or a foot,--torture and imprisonment, or thelike,--no one questioned the Kotwal's acts. As chief magistrate ofa city which contained a large proportion of lawless population, heoften found it necessary to make sudden and severe examples in orderto check disorder and crime: and, recently, the city had been agitatedby conspirators: parties ran high; and duels and brawls, generallyattended by fatal consequences, were frequent.
The old Duffadar was right when he told Fazil of the Kotwal's oathto punish severely the first brawler who should be apprehended, andhe trembled for the consequences of the inquiry into the night'sdisturbances. Here were two men wounded, and, as far as he knew,another who had been taken off, or who had got away; and one dead body,found near the temple of Bhowani among the tamarind trees, was fresh,though torn by wild animals, and the blood had been traced back to thetemple wall, on the top of which some stones had been displaced.
Altogether, matters had an ugly appearance; and the old man could nothelp thinking that Fazil was concerned in both affairs. "May God bemerciful to him," he said to himself, "for he is a brave youth, son ofa gallant father; better a hundred battle-fields, and a fair chanceman to man, than the crooked ways of this court, and the mercilesscharacter of Jehandar Beg. Be wary, my lord," he whispered to Fazil,as, having made his obeisance and report, he was falling back to getfree of the advancing parties; "Jehandar Beg's looks are not pleasantthis morning, and you need to be careful. I should not warn you withoutthere were need; be careful in what you say, and I will guide you by mylooks from time to time."
But Fazil had no fear. Unused to such scenes, he could only feel thathis word would pass him free from all suspicion, and that his father'srank and good faith were above question.
To the old Khan, the Kotwal's greeting was one of respectful deference;and the seat of honour was assigned to him. To Fazil, however, hemaintained a stiff reserve--so pointed, that the Khan could not butnotice and remark upon it.
"That is my son," he said, after an awkward pause which no oneapparently dared to break, "and I would have you acquainted with him,Meerza Sahib. Shookr Ulla! he is not utterly unknown among the ranks ofthose who are true to the King in Beejapoor, though he is but a youth."
There was no reply, however, given to this speech, and theembarrassment of all grew more painful. The clerks and guards lookedfrom one to another, and the old Khan to them in succession, withincreasing indignation at their demeanour.
"By the Prophet!" he exclaimed at length, ironically, "ye seemmarvellously engaged, gentlemen," as, on hearing him speak, every onelooked away, or into the papers before them, "that a civil greetingdoes not obtain a civil answer. Your politeness, Meerza Sahib, isproverbial in the city; but it seems to have deserted you on thisoccasion, or is reserved for thieves and loose women. Come, myson--come; we intrude here. Jehandar Beg has his own private work todo, no doubt, and does not need our company."
"Hold!" cried the Kotwal; and, as he spoke, several of the armedattendants closed up the doorway with their long broad spears, whileothers without blew the matches of their guns. "Hold! Thou mayst go,Afzool Khan, for what may follow may grieve thy brave heart; but thereis blood on thy son's sword, and it must be inquired into. Young man,what is this they say against thee? A man killed in a drunken brawl inthe worst quarter of the city? Was this to be expected from the son ofAfzool Khan? Speak, and speak truly, before God and his Prophet." TheMeerza's eyes flashed and dilated as he spoke; and as they rested uponthe young man, who had not seated himself, they were met by a gaze asbold and fearless as his own.
"I am no brawler, Meerza Sahib," he exclaimed, in reply."Astagh-fur-oolla!--nor drunkard either. Peace, father! sit quiet; letme answer for myself--I am not afraid," he added, as the Khan attemptedto rise, and was evidently provoked beyond endurance. "Ask the Duffadarwho accompanied me, and the man in whose house it happened, whether Iam to blame. Their statements will suffice."
"There are two matters to answer for, Meah Sahib," said the Kotwal."Were you not in the dress of a Gosai last night, and another with you?Nay; no denial!"
"I have nothing to deny,
Meerza Sahib," returned Fazil. "My father knewof it, and I went by his permission."
"Good. Now, Peer Sahib, what happened to you?" asked the Kotwal ofanother officer present.
"My lord, it was just before midnight," he replied, "when two men,Gosais, brought a third person, who was slightly wounded, butcomplained much of his neck. He is a foreigner, for he speaks the Delhilanguage. They said he had been robbed, and told us to keep him safetill the morning, when they would come for him; and as the man wasvery helpless, we put him on a bed in the guard-room, and have broughthim here. Again at dawn, some of the men were going towards the templeof Toolja Bhowani, when they saw the dead body of a man, with a deepwound in his back and a stab in his breast--a Hindu, for he had on aBrahmun's thread, so he may be a Rajpoot; but no one knew him. Severalmohurs were picked up by him and others between this place and thetemple:--the Mutsuddee has them--eleven, I think,--and there was bloodall the way along. It was a desperate cut; and how the man could haverun at all with those wounds, it is hard to say."
"He was murdered, then," thought Fazil; "would I had not struck him!yet there is one traitor and robber the less."
"And the man who was brought in, what of him?" asked the Kotwal.
"He moaned and groaned, my lord, worse than a woman; said he had beenrobbed at the temple; spoke of Pahar Singh who had wounded him, MaunSingh who had throttled him, then of the Shah's secretary--may his namebe honoured!--and some ten thousand rupees. In short, noble sir, wecould make nothing of the matter, for he began to weep if we spoke tohim, and told us to take him to the King without delay. So we broughthim here, and must speak for himself. It appeared to me like the dreamof some opium-smoker," continued the speaker to those about him; "wecould not understand it at all."
"Shouldst thou know the men who brought him?"
"Well, my lord, I can't say for certain," replied the officer, "but oneof our people said they were not what they seemed; and he thought onewas Bulwunt Rao, who is a Silladar of the noble Khan yonder, and whogoes about bazars at night, sometimes; the other's face was tied up,and he did not speak."
"I was the other, Meerza Sahib," interposed Fazil, quietly.
"I thought as much," said the Kotwal, drily. "Were they armed, PeerSahib?"
"Yes, to be sure, my lord," he replied; "would any one go about inthose quarters at night without being armed? Yes, they had sword andshield."
"Where are the weapons?"
"Here, my lord," replied the other Duffadar, who now interposed, "inmy keeping; the young Khan gave them up to me. He has another swordnow."
"Yes, there is blood on the blade, and here are cuts, fresh ones, onthe shield," said Jehandar Beg, examining Fazil's weapons. "How, youngsir, do you account for these?"
"I will reserve what I have to say; it is no use speaking now,"returned Fazil, who had observed his old friend shake his head, and whoagain nodded approvingly.
"Bring in the wounded man," cried the Kotwal; and the bed on whichour poor friend the Lalla lay, was carried in and set down; "we mustconfront the parties."
"Get up, good man," said an attendant Mutsuddee; "this is the Kotwal;make your reverence, and tell what happened to you."
"Ah, protect me, befriend me. I have been robbed and murdered.... Icannot get up.... I am a poor man and a stranger. Look at my blood,"gasped the Lalla by turns to all about him.
"Who did it? and who art thou?" cried the Kotwal. "Where hast thou comefrom?"
Now, it might be awkward for the Lalla to answer these questions.He knew he had a few gold coins left, enough to keep him for sometime--for he had been used to poverty, and could endure it--if he couldonly get free. Any man with quick wits, could do something for himselfin the city; and had he not done good service? These thoughts passedrapidly through his mind ere he spoke.
"Asylum of justice!" he said, in his most humble tones, "I don't knowwho did it, but I was robbed in the temple."
"Of ten thousand rupees? Speak truly."
"Ah no, sirs. What would a poor Khayet like me do with ten thousandrupees? No, but of what I had in my humeana."
"And Pahar Singh? they tell me he was mentioned by thee."
"Ah, noble sir, I am a stranger and a foreigner; what do I know aboutPahar Singh, or anybody? I am very weak," added the Lalla, in a feeblevoice; "will no one help me?" and he lay down, as well to escapefurther questioning, as to excite pity for his misfortunes.
"This will not serve thee, whoever thou art," returned the Kotwal;"answer truly, where art thou come from, and what took thee to thatlonely temple at night?"
"My lord, I am a poor Khayet from the north, seeking service; and Ifell among thieves who decoyed me thither and robbed me. See, theywounded me also, and tried to strangle me. What more can I say?"
"That is not enough, friend," resumed the Kotwal; "we must know how ithappened, for others here appear concerned in the matter, and murderhath been done."
"Murder, my lord!" cried the Lalla, again raising himself; "there wasno murder, though perhaps they thought they had killed me when theytook what I had."
"Who, Lalla? be not afraid," said Jehandar Beg, soothingly.
"A seeming Jogi and another. They ran away, and left me senseless. Thentwo Gosais came and raised me up, and gave me water, and took me to theguard-room. May the gods recompense them, for they bound up my wound!"
"Two Gosais--ah, this may be some clue!" said the Kotwal; "this agreeswith the other statement. Then thou art one of them, Meah Sahib?"
"I have already said so," replied Fazil; "and my retainer, Bulwunt Rao,was the other."
"What took you there?"
Fazil considered for a moment. What he had been witness of could notnow be related, and he replied, "It was a matter, Meerza Sahib, inwhich I am not bound to answer you. If those it concerns are to hear ofit, they shall know otherwise."
"Beware, young sir!" said the Kotwal, gravely; "there can be no secretshere."
"Nevertheless, I cannot answer. It is enough that I have told my fatherof it," returned Fazil.
"Yes, Jehandar Beg," said Afzool Khan, "he has said enough to prove hewas no robber, and that ought to content you."
"Yet there was murder done, my friend," replied the official, quickly;"blood was on the wall of the court, and a corpse not far from it, andthere is blood on this sword of your son's. He should clear himselfof this horrible suspicion. But stay; there is the other affray to beaccounted for,--that in the wine-shop--a drunken brawl, I fear."
"I am no brawler, Meerza Sahib, nor drunkard," exclaimed Fazil,indignantly. "The man is present in whose house it occurred; let himsay what happened."
"Let him be brought forward, and let Fureed Duffadar state whathappened," said the Kotwal, authoritatively. "Till then be silent,Meah."
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