Tara: A Mahratta Tale

by Meadows Taylor

  CHAPTER LX.

  The silence was oppressive. The Khan was smoking, and the dull,monotonous gurgle of the hookah went on incessantly, almost irritatingFazil, and provoking him to speak again; but his father had shut hiseyes, and puffed mechanically, emitting the smoke through his nostrils,and the priest was evidently absorbed in devotional contemplation. Anyinterruption would be welcome.

  "They have brought up the prisoner," said Ibrahim Khan, a strangelysilent man, but good soldier, who rarely spoke to any one. "He is nowentering the court door; shall he be ordered in?"

  "Ay!" said Afzool Khan, "let him be disposed of before our breakfast.That kicheri, Khan Sahib?"

  "Inshalla, it will soon be ready; I will go and see to it," he replied;and he got up and went out, as Gopal Singh, Lukshmun, and some othersentered. Moro Pundit was bound as before, with a turban round hisneck, the end of which was held by Lukshmun with one hand, while theother grasped a heavy naked sabre. The girl Gunga followed them.

  Afzool Khan, the priest, and Fazil looked at the Brahmun from head tofoot; but he did not quail, or betray any emotion whatever, except thathis broad chest was heaving under the bandage, and his hands, whichjust appeared below it, were tightly clenched.

  "This is Moro Trimmul", said Gopal Singh; "we all know him. He usedto lodge here with the Gosais, and they are all here to speak to him.Is it not true, O Bawas?" he continued to some of the household whocrowded in.

  "It is he, my lord, sure enough," cried several of the Gosais in abreath; "it is Moro Trimmul, who lived here."

  "Have ye got his papers?" asked the priest.

  "They are most likely in the panniers and bags on the ponies," saidGopal Singh, "or in the palankeen. What matter?--here is the manhimself."

  "Ask him, my son, if he has aught to say. Ask him in his own tongue,"said the Khan. "We would not destroy him unheard."

  Fazil put the question.

  "I did not intend to speak," said Moro Trimmul, "for I am in handswhich know no mercy, and I need none. All who take work like mine areprepared to die at any hour. All I ask of ye is to let this girl go;she is a poor Moorlee who was faithful to me. Let her go, Khan Sahib,with the gold I gave her. As for me, as you have slain many innocentBrahmuns, I am not to be spared, for I have done all I needed, and mymission is ended."

  "What hast thou done?" asked the priest.

  "Thou art a priest of thy faith," answered the man, "I one of mine;what thou dost and wouldst do for thy faith, I would do and have beendoing for mine. Does that content thee?"

  "Enough!" cried the Khan, "he confesses. What shall we do with him?"

  "Let him die, father," said Fazil solemnly. "He was contriving moreevil than you know of, as his face tells,--now look at it as Ispeak,--yes: and he would have done it too. Let him die."

  As Fazil spoke, a grey ashy paleness overspread the Brahmun's face, anda shudder passed through him; but he did not answer, and taking, as itwere, a long inspiration, drew himself up to his full height, closinghis fingers convulsively.

  "Fazil," asked his father, "dost thou say death, my son?"

  "I do," said Fazil, "in justice for this man's evil deeds, which havebrought misery to hundreds, and will yet cause more."

  "Shabash," cried the priest, "Ul-humd-ul-illa! there is good stuff inthee yet, Meah. What sayeth the holy book, chapter forty-seven? 'Whenye encounter the unbelievers, strike off their heads, until ye havemade a great slaughter.' Yes, let him die."

  Afzool Khan mused for a while. The priest's quotation was correct, andhis own fanaticism confirmed it. Was he, however, so appalled by therecent destruction of innocent Hindu life, that he hesitated as to thisone? or was it in regard to the fact that Moro Trimmul was a Brahmun,and the popular objection to putting such men to death being great,that he now hesitated? Both causes probably combined to influence him.

  "I am not going to do it, Punditjee," said Lukshmun to Moro Trimmul ina whisper, "because thou art a Brahmun; but there is no harm wishingthee as sharp a sword as this is. See!"

  Moro Trimmul looked askance at the hunchback as he would have done ata reptile, and shrank instinctively from him. They saw his eye wanderalong the edge of the bright blade from hilt to point; but though heshuddered perceptibly, he said nothing.

  Afzool Khan took his chin and beard in his hand, leaned his elbow onhis knee, looked furtively once or twice under his bushy eyebrows atthe priest and Fazil in turn, but did not speak, and again resumedhis position. The prisoner's large bright eyes were fixed on him withan intensely inquisitive and earnest expression, and drops of sweatgathered on his brow and temples; but though his life hung on a word,there was no fear visible, and Fazil could not repress admiration ofthe man's calm bearing and contempt of death.

  "It cannot be, Huzrut, yet," said Afzool Khan at length; "we have muchto learn from him; and, after all, son, he was but doing his duty trulyand faithfully. If I had sent thee on such an errand, or the King hadsent thee, wouldst thou not have done the same? Take him away, putirons on him. He must be sent to the King, and judged at Beejapoor."

  "Where thou wilt die under the Goruk Imlee tree like Jehandar Beg,"said Lukshmun. "Ah, yes, that was a clean stroke of Rama's; and theydon't care for Brahmuns there."

  At that moment Pahar Singh entered. "Yes, that is the man," he said,looking intently at the Brahmun. Then turning to his follower, "Go,Lukshmun," he said, "they seek thee. Rama is dead, and thou shouldst goand pour the water at his burial."

  "Dead!" cried the man, starting back, and dropping the end of theturban. "Dead! O no, master, not Rama!"

  "Go, and thou wilt see," said the chief, turning away.

  Lukshmun spoke no word. They saw his broad chest heaving, and he gaspedfor breath. The shock was too sudden and great, and he fell senselessagainst the wall. In doing so the gold zone which he had hung over hisarm rolled away.

  "It is mine," said Gunga, picking it up, and clasping it about herwaist. "He gave it me, ask him;" and she pointed to the Brahmun; "askhim; and that fellow would have stolen it. May I go?" she continued,addressing the Khan; "I am only a poor Moorlee of the temple; you donot need me."

  "Surely," said the Khan, "we want no women. Go!" and she made a humblesalutation to him, and turned aside.

  "Is he, too, dead?" asked Pahar Singh, turning to Lukshmun. "They weretwins, ye see, sirs," he said to the bystanders, "and his spirit mayhave gone after his brother's."

  But it was not so. Lukshmun had fainted, and revived as water waspoured down his throat and a man fanned him with a cloth. He lookedabout him dreamily; then some one raised him up, and led him away.

  "And he?" asked Pahar Singh of the Khan, pointing to Moro Trimmul. "Ishe to die? what will ye do with him, Khan Sahib?"

  "Not yet; he will go to Beejapoor," returned the Khan, "and answer forhis deeds to the King."

  "It is just," replied the chief; "he has only done what a good servantshould do. He tempted me for his master, as I could have temptedhim----"

  "That is just what I said," said the Khan, interrupting.

  "And he took no man's life," continued the chief, "and the law willspare his."

  "The law," interrupted the priest scornfully, "the blessed law isnot for infidels, save for their destruction. For what is written inchapter forty-seven----"

  "Peace," cried the Khan, who dreaded a dispute between them, "let itpass. I have spared him. Take him away--keep him with the standard ofthe Paigah, and let no man or woman have speech of him; he can cook hisown food."

  They led Moro Trimmul away. He said nothing; but Fazil saw a smile oftriumph, he thought, flash over his grave features. When they lookedfor the girl Gunga she had gone also, and was not to be seen. Fazil,too, had disappeared. As the Khan's breakfast was brought, the kicheriand kabobs he loved so well, he washed his hands, and waited awhilefor Fazil's return; but able to contain himself no longer, drew nearto the smoking dish, and crying, "Bismilla!" he, the priest, and thosepresent, after the necessary ablutions, plunged their hands into thepile of rice, and a
te heartily.

  Fazil could no longer restrain himself. He had promised the girl he hadleft below the pass, to get news of her people for her; and, takingadvantage of Pahar Singh's entrance, and the confusion occasionedby Lukshmun's fall, had slipped out unobserved. It was but a shortdistance, his horse was still saddled, and he mounted and rode asrapidly as he could down the hill.

  The men were where he had left them, under the trees by the rivulet.Shere Khan was on foot, standing by the palankeen, pointing to the roadand to Fazil as he descended. Some of the men were on horseback, otherslying in the shade holding their horses' bridles.

  As he neared the palankeen, the old man slowly advanced, and Fazilcould see there were tears on his furrowed cheek. He saluted the youngKhan respectfully, and put his hand on his saddle-bow.

  "I never saw grief like hers," he said, "nor such fear, nor misery, atyour delay. 'Why did he go?' was all she could say at first--and sinceI soothed her, she has cried the more--'Why doth he delay?' Once Ipersuaded her to go and wash her face at the river and drink water, andshe did so, and was the better of it. And, O Meah! she is so beautiful!Even our rough men say she is a Peri, not a woman. Speak gently to her,Meah."

  Fazil dismounted and walked on. A large space had been left about thepalankeen, and no one had intruded upon Tara. Towards the rivulet thedoors were open, and she was sitting on the edge of the litter, butwith her feet on the ground without, and her face buried in her knees.She did not look up till the young man was close to her; then, withirrepressible emotion, she threw herself at his feet.

  "O take me to them!" she cried piteously--"take me to them! they arewaiting for me, they are looking for their Tara! O sir, they will notrest, or eat, till they know I am safe. Let me go--take me to them. Whyam I detained? I have done no evil!"

  "Rise," said Fazil, "rise--I may not touch thee to raise thee up; butAlla has laid a heavy hand on thee, and thou must listen to true words,though they bring thee such affliction as thou hast not known in thyyoung life."

  Tara raised herself to her knees and looked up. O, the misery of thosegreat eyes in which were no tears--red, dry, and glistening: while thesweet features quivered under bewildering anticipations of what was tofollow. Fazil could not bear to look on her, and turned away. "Wouldthere were anyone else to tell thee but me," he said, "it would bewell."

  "Speak," she replied calmly, "there is no deceit in your tongue--hewhom you left with me says so; he told me you would not deceive me, andthis suspense is terrible, do not prolong it--speak. I will listen."

  "Nor will I," returned Fazil; "sit down as thou wast, and may God keepthy heart, as I tell thee of thy misery. Yesterday there were a father,a mother, another wife, and thyself, in a happy home. Now three aregone, and thou art here."

  He saw her, as he spoke, clutching nervously at her throat, which washeaving convulsively, and trying to swallow; and ere he could completethe sentence she had fallen sideways from her seat against the doorof the litter, and lay there, powerless, for an instant. His habitualrespect for women would have prevented his touching her, but she was sohelpless that he raised her up, and, taking a pillow from the inside ofthe palankeen, placed it behind her, supporting it with his arm.

  Gradually she seemed to recover a little. "Dead," she said gently, "alldead! O Holy Mother, why is this? Why am I not taken too?" and sheshuddered, and cowered down, shrinking from him.

  Fazil thought the truth might rouse her, and he was right. He dreadedher becoming insensible.

  "Yes, so it has pleased God," he said. "Thy father was killed, fightingin the temple; and in the confusion afterwards, robbers attacked thehouse where your mother was and the other, and they also died."

  "No--no, it could not be!" cried Tara, quickly and eagerly. "Janoo Naeikwould be there; he would fight for them and protect them."

  "Janoo himself told me this: he told me he saw them dead--two women,very fair, the elder Anunda, and the younger wife, Radha Bye. Some ofJanoo's people are killed in the house, and he could not save them. Thyfather?" he continued, as he saw her lips apparently moving, thoughthe word was not spoken. "Yes, two men, priests in the temple, KhundooBhopey and Rama Bhopey--I asked their names--who lifted him upon thelitter in which he was carried away, said he was dead and alreadyburned. What can I do with thee or for thee now?" he continued. "Speak,and I will do it, lady, truly and faithfully."

  "Is it true?" she asked dreamily, and with a rough husky voice, andstaring at him with those great scared eyes. "The Bhopeys would nottell lies."

  "I swear it by the dead, it is true," replied Fazil. "I have neitherrested nor eaten till I found out the truth. Had there been any one,even a servant, I would have sent for thee. Janoo told me there was noone belonging to thee in the town, no relatives;--and the Brahmuns areall fled. Men say they will not return to a polluted shrine, and JanooNaeik and others said you had relatives at Wye, where we are going."

  "Yes," she said calmly, and as if echoing his words, "there arerelatives at Wye. Sukya Bye is there--and--no matter. Yes. I will gothere--let me go."

  "My mother and sister will be with us," added Fazil, "come to them.Zyna will be a sister to thee, and no harm shall come nigh thee. Iwould use no force--it must be of thine own free will; but the townyonder is filled with dead and dying, the temple is desolate, there isno one of thy people alive, and thou wouldst die of fear and sorrow.Come with us; Shere Khan will take care of thee, as of a daughter, tillwe reach my sister. I will not come nigh thee, but he will tell me ofthee. O lady, I am not false! I am a stranger to thee; but Alla threwme in thy path, when else, dishonour was before thee. From that, atleast, I saved thee, and thou knowest it."

  "Who art thou?" she said gently; "yes, I was saved from worse thandeath--who saved me?"

  "I, Fazil, the son of Afzool Khan of Beejapoor," he said.

  "They say Pathans respect women's honour," she returned, rousingherself. "A poor orphan girl will not be without pity in your sight.Ah! sir, I am sorely bewildered now," she continued, beating helplesslywith her hands on her lap. "I cannot think or speak, and my heart isdried up; but he told me--that old man--that you were true, and theyloved you, all of them!--and so be kind to Tara, and do not deceiveher; she will die soon, and go away, and will trouble you no more."

  "By Alla! by my sister's honour! I will be true to thee, O lady!"cried Fazil earnestly; "truer than thou canst now think. Enough; whenthou art with Zyna thou wilt know all; till then thou wilt not see me.Call the bearers," he continued, to Shere Khan; "take her on to camp,wherever it is; get guides from the next village yonder. Procure herfood by the way, if she will eat. Here are twenty men with the litter;they will take thee into Sholapoor. Hark!" he continued to the men asthey approached, "take this palankeen into Sholapoor at once, and yeshall have fifty rupees from Afzool Khan. Fear not, lady!" he said oncemore to Tara; "thou wilt be Shere Khan's daughter till thou art with mysister." Then, mounting his horse, he rode rapidly up the pass.

  Tara followed his figure with her eyes, and her heart went with them.He was so kind, so gracious, and so beautiful. She could not realizethe fact of her sudden misery and desolation, and yet she could notdoubt it. As he disappeared behind a turn in the road, the sense ofthat desolation became more acutely painful. But she had no time forthought. Shere Khan rode up, bid her shut the doors of the litter,and told her he should not leave it; and a moment afterwards she feltit was taken up, and carried forward at a rapid pace, while the oldsoldier caracoled by her side, and the horsemen spread themselvesaround her, to screen as well as to protect the conveyance in which shelay.