CHAPTER LXXVII.
Was there equal confidence in the fort? We must now go there, andlisten to the midnight consultation, which may be prolonged tilldaylight; and yet men on the eve of some desperate enterprise for whichthey have prepared themselves, need more rest, and often sleep morecalmly, than at any other period of their existence.
It was the same chamber that we have formerly seen; but the window ofthe oriel is shut, for the night wind at that height is cold and bleak,and thick, quilted curtains, which have been let fall before it and thedoorway, exclude all air. Sivaji, Maloosray, and Palkur are sittingtogether, but are silent, for the Rajah's mind is troubled.
"If I only knew what she would have me do," he said at length, lookingup. "Hast thou prepared all, Tannajee?"
"Master," he replied, "everything is ready. By midnight, or a littlelater, Moro Trimmul and the rest of the veterans will be in the woodsnear Jowly, around the camp. Every position has been marked out, andwill be silently taken up. Nothing can escape out of that plain,and they will await the signal of the five guns from hence. TheBrahmun swears," he continued, after a pause, "that he will take thepretty sister of the young Khan, in revenge for his seduction of theTooljapoor Moorlee."
"He dare not," said Sivaji quickly. "I have heard that girl was anhonoured guest in Afzool Khan's family; the Brahmuns say she was. No,he dare not touch her; and I have warned him not to do so."
Maloosray shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps," he said; "God knows! butMoro says otherwise. Let it pass; it is not our business; but he willbe none the less active to get the whole family into his power."
"And you, Nettajee?" said the Rajah, turning to him.
"There are five thousand of my best Mawullees sleeping in the thicketseast of the fort-gate. They will close in behind the Beejapoor peopleas they pass, and when we hear the horn, I think, master, few willescape--yes," he continued, fixing his large black eyes on the Rajah,and slightly twisting his moustaches, "few will escape."
"O, the blind confidence of these Beejapoor swine!" cried the Rajah,laughing, as he lifted up his hands. "They have neither eyes nor ears,else they had guessed we are not as we seem. But the goddess Mother hasblinded and deafened them, and it is as my mother said it would be."
"Where is she?" asked Maloosray; "she should bless us ere we go forth."
"She is in the temple, and uneasy. As the time comes on, they think shewill have a visitation," he replied. "Ah! here is some one to tell us.What news, Bheemee?"
"The lady mother is uneasy, Maharaj, and rocking herself to and fro. Itis coming on her, and ye should be near to listen."
"Come, friends, let us go," said the Rajah; "on this revelation dependsmy course to-morrow."
It was but a few steps, and the place is already familiar to us. Thelow porch and dark vestibule, the small shrine within, from whencea strong light is shining into the gloom, resting sharply upon thefigure of the Ranee as she sat before it, not quietly now, as when wesaw her once before, but with her shoulders and bosom heaving rapidly,her eyes shut, or if opened for a moment flashing with excitement, herlips trembling and already speckled with foam; and that peculiar sharp,rocking motion of her body, which always preceded the final attack.
The men stood by reverently. No one dared to speak. The attendantBrahmun offered flowers from time to time, and kept up a low chant orincantation, while occasionally he threw grains of coloured rice uponthe altar.
Suddenly the lady stretched forth her arms and shrieked wildly.Maloosray would have rushed forward, but Sivaji held him back. "Wait,"he said in a low tone, "no one dares to interrupt her; wouldst thou goto death between her and the Mother? She will come--listen."
There was first a low muttering in which nothing could bedistinguished; but words at last followed, to them terrible and awful,as, believing in the dread presence of the goddess, the lady pouredthem forth with gasps.
"O, I thirst! My children were slain--and no one has avenged them.Blood! blood! I thirst. I will drink it! The blood of the cruel--ofthe cow-slayers! All, all--the old and the young; the old woman andthe maiden; the nurse and the child at her breast; all--all--all!"she continued, her voice rising to a scream. "They who love me, killfor me; for I thirst,--for I thirst now, as I did for the blood ofthe demons," and the voice again sank to a low whisper which was notaudible.
These words had come from her by spasms, as it were; painfully, andwith much apparent suffering. She shrieked repeatedly as she utteredthem, and clutched at the air with a strange convulsive movementof both hands: sometimes as if apparently drawing to her, or againfiercely repelling an object before her. At last she stretched forthher hands and her body, as if following what she saw, and lookingvacantly into the space before her with a terrified expression ofcountenance, the hands fell listlessly on her lap, and her featuresrelaxed into a weary expression, as of one who had endured acute pain.Then she sighed deeply, opened her eyes, looked around, and spoke."Bheemee, I thirst," she said gently,--"bring me water."
Sivaji alone had remained with his mother and the Brahmun of thetemple, who, as she spoke them, recorded the disconnected sentences.The Rajah's companions, fearless before an enemy, were cowards beforethe dread presence in which they believed.
"Ah, thou art here, son," she said, turning to him. "Did I speak?Surely the Mother was with me," and she sighed deeply, again drawingher hand wearily across her eyes.
"Come and rest, mother," he replied, raising her up and supporting hertenderly. "Come, thou art weary."
"Weary indeed, my son," she said,--"there is no rest for me till allis finished. Come, and I will tell thee everything;" and he followedher into her own apartments, where she lay down. The attendant broughtwater, and she drank a deep draught.
"What did I say, son?" she continued. "But no matter. It is all bloodbefore me--carnage and victory! Blood!" she cried excitedly, graspinghis arm and looking intently into his face. "Art thou ready? ready forvictory!--ready to cry 'Jey Kalee! Jey Toolja Mata!'"
"Ready, mother--yes. There is no failing anywhere. The men are at theirposts, and the signals have been decided upon. No one will escape usnow."
"No one will escape," she echoed,--"no one must escape--no--notone--not even he."
"Ah, mother," cried Sivaji, "not so; surely with pledged honour,soldier to a soldier, and a solemn invitation, it could not be."
"It must be, son," she said gloomily, "else the sacrifice is incompleteand of no avail. Wilt thou risk that for thine own sake--for mysake--for the sake of our faith? I see it all," cried the ladyexcitedly, "passing before me--a triumph of glory over those defilersof the temples of the gods; thy rapid rise to power; the legions of thehateful Mahomedans trampled in the dust by greater legions of thineown. 'Jey Sivaji Rajah!' shall be cried from Dehli to Rameshwur.[17]Wilt thou now turn back? wilt thou be forsworn to her--to the Motherwho is our life? Wilt thou be as vacillating as thy father? Beware!thou art more committed to her than he--and does she spare backsliders?"
"He is but one to be spared, mother, and that because of my promise,"he pleaded.
"I tell thee it cannot be, my son. She will have him--the slayer of thepriests--the murderer of hundreds of the people about her shrine. Andthat priest of his who, as all say, led the slaughter, cast down herimage, and trampled on it! O son, canst thou hesitate? art thou--sofirm and true always--now grown weak? have I borne one in travail whois degenerate? Choose then, now--victory and future blessing, or theresult which thou knowest, and we all know, if we fail her--the deathwhich must ensue. Both are before thee; choose, boy; I can say nomore!" and she turned away her face to the wall.
But she had conquered, for there was no defying her will,--always themainspring of the Rajah's actions--and, backed by those seeminglydivine revelations in which he devoutly believed, he did not resist her.
"Mother," he said, rising and prostrating himself before her, "Iknow--I feel that the goddess is speaking from thy mouth still. I hearand obey. Bless me, O my mother, and my hand will be strong; put thyhands
on my head, and the Mother will guide the blow surely."
"I do bless thee, Sivaji Bhoslay," she returned, placing her hands onhis head, "in the name of her who directs us, and with her power Iendue thee. Go and fear not, but do her bidding--thou shalt not fail."
He rose. "I will but speak with Maloosray and dismiss them," he said,"and return. Make up a bed for me here, for I would sleep near thee,mother, to-night."
"Get thee to thy post, Nettajee," he said to Palkur, as he met themwithout; "there is no fear now; victory is with us--she hath said it.Let the men sleep and be ready."
"And what will you do with him--the Khan?" asked Maloosray.
"You will see to-morrow," said Sivaji excitedly. "You will be with me,and will share the danger. This was reserved for you, O well-triedfriend!"
"Enough," said Maloosray to Palkur; "let us go, for the master needsrest;" and, saluting him, they departed.
Sivaji returned to his mother. A low bed had been prepared in the room,and she was sitting by it. He took off his upper garment and turban,and, having performed his ablutions, lay down, and she patted himgently, as she used to do when he was a child. He would have spoken,but she would not listen, and he urged her to sleep herself, but shewould not leave him; and when the dim light of day broke gently intothe chamber, he woke, and found she had not stirred from his side."Arise," she said, "it is time. Food is prepared for thee. Eat, and goforth to victory!"
He obeyed her; bathed, worshipped earnestly in the temple, and ateheartily. Then he returned to her, and, in the simple words of the oldMahratta Chronicle, "laid his head at his mother's feet, and besoughta blessing. He then arose, put on a steel cap, and chain armour,which was concealed under a thickly-quilted cotton gown; and, takinga crooked dagger which he hid under his sleeve, and the 'tiger'sclaws'[18] in his right hand, he girded his loins, and went out."
FOOTNOTES:
[17] The celebrated Hindu temple in the southern point of India.
[18] A treacherous and deadly weapon, in the shape of tiger's claws,which, fitted on the fingers, shuts into the hand.
Tara: A Mahratta Tale Page 79
