CHAPTER XLIII.
"O nobles, and well-wishers of the State!" cried the Secretary, in astrong, manly voice, "it is not mere ceremony for which ye have beencalled together this day; and it is not that the present urgent mattersmight not be disposed of by the Shah--may his splendour increase;--butin affairs of such moment, he would have the advice and assistance ofolder men, and of those who, for years past, have given their faithand their blood freely for the kingdom, and for his family; and surelynothing need be done in private, when ye, O Moslems! can be witnessesbefore God and the Prophet.
"Lo, friends in the faith! he hath called ye together because of thosegrievous rumours of treachery which prevail: and because of intrigueswhich have sown distrust between man and man in this city. Of these,two have been revealed to him by means little short of a miracle, andyet so true, that a child may understand them. Hear, then, what my lordthe King will say to ye--listen!"
A low murmur arose through the assembly as men spoke in short, eagerwhispers to each other. Who was to be accused? To whom did theseintroductory remarks refer in particular? Many a secret traitor thensitting there, trembled upon his seat. Were he denounced, he felt therewould be no alternative between detection and almost instant death, andthere were not a few who repeated to themselves the dying confession offaith. If it was to be, it was to be; there was no escape now.
The King spoke from his seat, and though his voice was of a gentlercharacter than his Secretary's, its silvery ringing tones were evenmore distinctly heard.
"O friends and subjects!" he said, "many words are hardly needful whenthe understanding is to have clear scope for action, and I desire allto consider what will be now put before ye. As God hath appointed meHis deputy on earth to govern this kingdom, so I am answerable toHim for it, and for you, my people. This I clearly admit. If it beglorious, are ye not so? If it be tranquil, are ye not safe? If it behumbled, are ye not humbled likewise? Is any one weary of our service,let him leave it, but for the rest, let us be united: let it not besaid by our enemies that we could be seduced and divided, or that ourfoolish quarrels are worse than the petty jealousies of the women of adivided house. O noble Dekhanies, put enmity and treachery from amongye: is it come to this, that they exist? Listen."
The King paused, and seemed to be searching under his cushions, whilethe sounds of his last words, rising to the vaulted roof, trembled ina sweet faint murmur, and died away among its fretted recesses; and asyet the rapt silence of the assembly was unbroken.
"A man," he continued, holding up a mass of papers to the view ofall--"one whom we had venerated as a father--into whose hands we weregiven by our father on his deathbed--has been false. False to me, thatis nothing,--false to the kingdom and to you, that is more,--false tohis oath to an orphan as I am, and to God, that is most of all. Hereis his writing, here are his seals,--look at them. These letters tothe Padshah Alumgeer began ere that bad man were a king, and have beencontinued within a month; and by them we read now, that him we speak ofwould have given away our kingdom, but would have reserved his share.And yet, O Khan Mahomed! if we wrong thee in this, we will do theejustice before God and this assembly."
"Justice, justice!" echoed a thousand voices: "put out the treason!"while many rose excitedly to their feet and were pulled down again bytheir neighbours.
"Wait," continued the King. "Let him be heard in his own behalf when hearrives; do not prejudge him. If these are untrue, there is no honourwe possess or can confer, that shall not be his. If true, let the justAlla judge him before ye all."
"Ameen, ameen!" cried the Peer devoutly. "Ameen, ameen!" was echoed bythe assembly, in a hoarse roar, which filled the hall. Again there wassilence.
"The next is a more simple matter," continued the King, with increasedconfidence. "Ye all know of Sivaji Bhoslay. How often his fatherrebelled, and was punished, and again forgiven by our father. Howoften the son hath been guilty of crimes. All these would have beenforgiven. As a wise father corrects, while he bears with and forgivesthe errors of a wilful son,--so should we have forgiven also; but fortreachery. Look, friends, here, in the same packet with those we havejust mentioned, are these letters from Sivaji to the Padshah. We whohave fed this wolf, are his enemies; those who have hunted him, arehis friends. Here are lists of forts which will be taken and held forthe Moghuls, of districts to pay for armies, of men who will join withtheir local levies. Between them they will share the Dekhan, and Sivajiwill be the imperial Vice-regent!
"Did ye hear, friends?" he continued, after a pause. "Do ye desireto serve under the infidel? I am young. I have no experience. I am ahumble worm before God; but I am the son of one who led ye to victory.I am one who has been nursed in war, and will lead ye again! Choose,then, between them and the King of your ancient dynasty. If I have aplace in your hearts, bid me stay; if not, a Durwaysh's robe and staffare mine, and at the blessed shrine of the Prophet I will abjure theworld and die. I will trouble ye no more. No, no more--me, or mine."
For an instant the same sweet trembling murmur of the King's voicearose to the roof--but for an instant only. As if with one accord, ashout of "Deen! Deen! for the faith! for the faith! we will die foryou!"--rang through the building, as men, no longer able to controltheir emotions, started to their feet and shouted the war-cry ofIslam. Those who were without had observed the emotion in the hall,but had not been aware of its cause. Now, however, the familiarbattle-shout fell on willing ears, and was returned, from the thousandsgathered there, with an enthusiasm which knew no bounds. "Deen! Deen!"accompanied by the battle-cries of the various nobles and chiefs whoseescorts were drawn up together.
Just then, and as the excitement from within and without had somewhatsubsided, a strong body of horse, known to all as belonging to AfzoolKhan, swept round the corner of the building with its standardunfurled, and its kettle-drums beating loudly. Among the serried massof horsemen could be seen a palankeen closely muffled and jealouslyguarded, immediately behind which rode the brave old Khan and his sonFazil, with several of his officers. It was evident to all that thelitter contained a person of consequence; and many from within the halllooked around anxiously, as Afzool Khan, his son, and several otherswith him, dismounted and placed themselves beside it. Could the Wuzeerhave returned? If so, he was already a prisoner, and there was nohope. If not, whom could it be? The King had been about to address theassembly again, but he paused and turned to those behind him.
"Ah," he cried exultingly, "Alla hath heard our prayers, and here areour noble friends. I vow thank-offerings to thee, O Sofee Surmust![11]O Geesoo Duraz! by thy hands, Peer Sahib, as thou wilt!"
"I said the planets assured me that my lord should destroy his enemiesto-day," said the Peer, wiping his eyes, for his love for Afzool Khanwas great, and he had feared seduction. "Shookr oolla! Shookr oolla!Hazarha-Shookr! thousands of thanks do we offer at thy throne, Omerciful! and here he comes, Soobhan Ulla! Soobhan Ulla!"
Afzool Khan was well known, and a hearty shout had greeted him as hedismounted, looked proudly about him, and returned the salutations ofhis friends and the soldiery. The palankeen was, by his orders, takenup the steps into the corridor; and, room being cleared for it by thesticks and maces of the chobdars, it was carried on, the Khan and hisson accompanying it, through the entrance hall and into the centre ofthe assembly before the throne, where, in spite of the remonstrances ofthe chamberlains, it was set down. Then the Khan, disengaging his swordfrom his belt, and bidding Fazil do the same, they advanced to the footof the musnud, and enveloping the hilts in their scarfs, presented themas "nuzzurs" or offerings to the King, making, at the same time, theircustomary obeisances.
"Pardon for this boldness, my prince," said the Khan, "but as themerciful Alla delivered us strangely out of his hands who is there, wethought we had better bring him to 'the presence' at once."
"Who?" asked the king excitedly. "The Wuzeer? Khan Mahomed?"
"No, my lord," returned the Khan, "but Jehandar Beg."
"God be praised thou art safe, Khan,"
returned the King, putting outhis hand and resting it upon the Khan's head, "and thou also, Fazil.Now, we have no fear."
"Ah, old friend!" cried the Peer, the tears fairly running down hischeeks while he pointed to the King; "he hath been so brave, so brave:my boy--so eloquent. Stones would have cried out at his words. Didstthou not hear the shouting?"
"Surely," returned the Khan; "but 'tis hardly a welcome sound in thesedays unless one knows the reason, so we hurried on. Eloquent! I knew hewould be so. Brave! Ay, or he is no descendant of his royal race. May Iopen the litter, my lord?" he asked of the King.
"Bismilla! open it," he replied; and some of the attendants hastilyuntied the knots by which the cover had been fastened over the top. Asthe last fold was removed, the figure of Jehandar Beg sitting upright,his arms and hands swathed carefully in a shawl, and his eyes boundwith a handkerchief, was displayed to all. The bandage was removed, andhe looked wildly about him.
Jehandar Beg saw his position at once. He was no coward, and heperceived that all chance of life had passed away. The Wuzeer was notthere, and Afzool Khan, stooping into the litter, took up the casecontaining Jehandar Beg's most secret papers, and presented them to theKing. "May I be loosed?" said the Kotwal to the Khan. "My fate is inthe King's hands."
"Surely," replied the King; "we fear him not, nor any enemy," hecontinued, looking round. "May God deliver them into our hands, even ashe hath this traitor."
"Ameen! Ameen!" cried a tumult of voices, followed by the loud Khamoshof the criers.
Afzool Khan spoke so as to be heard by all. We need not follow hisrecital, for the particulars have been already related; but the wordswere drunk in with avidity by the assembly. He disclosed no man's name;the papers would speak for themselves.
One by one they were read, Persian and Mahratta in turn, clearly anddistinctly; while, by the King's command, several of them were takenround by mutsuddees to the principal nobles and sirdars, that the sealsmight be examined.
This necessarily occupied some time, during which, the litter havingbeen removed to the door, Jehandar Beg stood in the centre, as yetboldly if not defiantly. Could the Wuzeer only arrive--and he wasexpected momentarily--all would be changed. Before him the King, boldas he seemed now, would quail; those friends in the assembly, who hadalready exchanged glances with him, would at once rise. There might bebloodshed, and of the result he had no doubt: it had been calculatedbeforehand, and was certain. Much depended on a mysterious arrangementof the Wuzeer's, which he suspected; but to the particulars of which hehad not been admitted. Need he deny the papers? He dare not. They werefacts which could neither be denied nor evaded.
"Unhappy, godless man," cried the King, when several had been read, andothers were being examined, "are these true? Dost thou admit them? Hastthou eaten my salt and found it so bitter, that that of others seemedsweeter to thee? Speak, Jehandar Beg! are these true? are they thineown?"
Upon his reply hung many a life had he chosen to denounce thosepresent; but with all his bad faith, there was no meanness in the man.
"The letters, my prince, are true; as they are addressed. I have nomore to say. Whatever my fate is to be, let it come; I am ready to meetit," returned the Kotwal, firmly.
"And these for Khan Mahomed? The writing in the corner is yours, andthe date of receipt is to-day."
"It is my writing; why should I tell a lie?" returned Jehandar Beg,sullenly; "but I know not the contents."
"Enough," replied the King; "my friends, we would do no injustice. Letus await the Wuzeer's arrival--it cannot be long now--and hear theresult from his own lips."
FOOTNOTE:
[11] A celebrated Mahomedan saint of the Dekhan, whose tomb is atSugger.
Tara: A Mahratta Tale Page 45
