Osman Beg's cook, whom he had brought with him when he came, an old slave of his father's house, was a practical woman, well used to camp life, sudden alarms, and long marches, and in any emergency was ready to prepare food for considerable numbers. She and several helpers, boys and women, had betaken themselves to the shelter of the kitchen, which, being situated in a yard adjoining the "Palace," had beyond it another yard, where was a small dwelling house, in which, as her own peculiar property, the old lady lived. We call her lady, because she was invariably styled so by all. No one dared, except her master, call her Zuffoora, which, having been born on a Thursday, had been chosen as her name—but "Bee," as short for Beebee, or "Lady," was always added; and those who did not know her well, or were afraid of taking liberties with her, called her Beebee Zuffoora, which, no doubt, was most pleasing to her of all.

Zuffoora-bee had been seriously exercised in her mind the day before. Her master, in one of his wild fits, had, without any previous notice, taken into his head to invite all the dancing girls who came to the Saint's festival, with their musicians and attendants, to dinner that evening; after which the women were to sing all night, relieving each other. Now the dancing and singing did not concern the old dame at all, but the dinner did, for her master had sent word by Johur that some of the dishes were to be of her very best style of cooking, for himself and the chief singers; and for the rest, pilao and hot kabobs would suffice.

To do her justice, Zuffoora-bee had done her best. Sundry dishes that we could name were delicate and delicious, whether fish, flesh, or fowl; and her master had sent her a present of two rupees as a token of his satisfaction, an unusual occurrence, which Johur explained by several of the dancing women having declared they had never tasted such food before, and insisting that Osman Beg should then and there send his cook a liberal present, on their behalf, which was accordingly done. I say, then, if this had been all, Zuffoora-bee would have been highly delighted, and might even have invited one or two of the girls to come and eat pÁn with her in her own house.

But the proceedings of the evening had disgusted her. She was very strict in the observances of her faith, also regular in the performance of stated prayers five times a-day. And no Moolla could have possessed a more perfect knowledge of the details to be observed at festivals, the ablutions and purifications of women at such seasons, and also of the needful fasts; or, on the other hand, the cooking necessary on such occasions. As to strong liquors or palm wine, she held them in the utmost abhorrence, and would as soon have cooked and eaten a piece of the abhorred animal as taken a drop of spirit into her mouth.

Her person was always scrupulously clean and neat; her almost white hair braided so that not a straggling lock appeared, and the rest neatly tied up in a simple knot behind her head. She had two satin petticoats for grand occasions, one green, the Prophet's colour, the other red, and both were striped with white. But for every day wear she used petticoats of soosi, a common kind of cotton cloth, which was made everywhere by village weavers, and could be bought in any village fair or market. This stuff was very neat and durable, and was worn, in various colours and degrees of fineness, by all Mussulman women of the lower classes. Zuffoora-bee was rich in possessing four of these petticoats, three of which were always put by nicely washed and ironed.

On the upper portion of her person she wore, first, a boddice, and over that a shirt of stout muslin, which descended a little below her waist, covering the band of her petticoat; and over all a doputta, or scarf, of tolerably fine muslin, which, tucked in at her waist, was passed round her head, falling gracefully over her back and hanging down over her right arm.

Zuffoora was a widow, and therefore wore few ornaments; and what she did wear were chiefly of silver, such as bracelets for her wrists, a silver ring round her neck, and silver rings on some of her fingers and her toes. She had also one very precious massive silver ring, which she wore over her right ankle. This had been given her by the King Ali Adil Shah of blessed memory, when, on one occasion, she had cooked a delicious meal for him after a battle, when his own servants had lost their way. The old lady was always eloquent on the subject of this ring of honour as she called it. "To men," she said, "the King gave estates, and lands, and jewels, and why should he not give them to good cooks? because if there were nothing to eat, who could fight? and there was nothing so valour-sustaining as a good pilao and well-spiced kabob."

The proceedings and mode of life and temper of her master had long been distressing to Zuffoora-bee; and if, by any possibility, she could have escaped from him and returned to Beejapoor, she would have done so; but she felt she was virtually a prisoner. When Abbas Khan had arrived sick and wounded, she had not only nursed him through his illness, but cooked the most delicate and nutritious food for him; and when the young man was about to depart, she begged permission to return to the great city and the old family house; but her master was cruel to her, abused her in vile language, and called her slave, and had told Johur to beat her with a shoe. Johur dared not do that, and besides loved and respected the good dame; but one of the vile eunuchs had done it, and the insult had rankled deep in Zuffoora's heart, as an act which years of protection could not atone for.

We have not mentioned Zuffoora-bee sooner in this history, because when Abbas Khan came to the fort she was incessantly occupied by his needs. She had a perfect knowledge of his family, and respected it, and most particularly his aunt, the Lady Fatima, so that she did not go to the old Syud's house as usual; indeed, perhaps had some misgiving in her mind as to the presence of Christians there; but, like all others, she had a great reverence for the old Dervish, and especial love for little ZÓra, to whom she had taught numbers of savoury dishes, such as it delighted the old man to eat, and which could be made out of very simple materials.

When the two women we know of came from Moodgul, she did not like them. She thought MÁma Luteefa had more the air of a common procuress than of a decent God-fearing agent for matrimonial arrangements. Her clothes were too gaudy, her look too bold, her conversation too free. She never said her prayers, not even once a-day. She ate too much pÁn; the bells on her anklets were too loud, even louder than those of a dancing-girl; in short, she was offensive to her in many ways; and finding Zuffoora-bee independent, and by no means inclined to be dictated to or to be schooled in the manner of cooking her dishes, sent her orders to the women under the cook, and was gratified in having garlic and red-pepper enough in her kabobs to suit a labouring woman; and Zuffoora-bee was obliged to complain to her master that the marriage agent was insolent and overbearing. But when poor little ZÓra was brought up to the palace by force, the grief and indignation of the worthy dame knew no bounds. Her master was well aware what she would think of the act, and set eunuchs and some of his garrison to guard the kitchen and Zuffoora's house, and not allow her egress, lest she should come and upbraid him—for we take upon ourselves to say that Zuffoora-bee's remonstrance would have been neither weak nor timid, but, on the contrary, unflinchingly bold and defiant.

During the whole of the day ZÓra had been confined to the palace Zuffoora-bee had prayed and wept by turns, but that she knew was useless; but, when the pÁn-seller's wife came to her in the evening, she gave Zuffoora-bee a hint, though others were by, that ZÓra was not without friends; and when the alarm that she had escaped was given, Zuffoora fell on her knees and thanked God that it had been so, and that her master's wicked designs had been foiled. She was not afraid of him. He loved her good food too much to deprive himself of it, either by putting her in confinement or sending her away.

In either case, who would supply her place? But she had not spared him; she had appealed to his honour, to that of his noble father, entreating him to reform his evil ways, and to abandon the vicious courses into which he had fallen. She who had nursed him as a child, who had attended on his mother, to see her son degenerating into a drunken profligate! "Better he were dead, far better that he were dead," murmured the good old dame. "I could say the last salutation to the dead as they covered up his body, and wish the peace of God to attend him, rather than I could join in the adulation which these miserable men and women pay to him. Touba! Touba! for shame, for shame!"

When the party under the new Governor and Burma Naik, with the Jemadar of the fort, was passing the wall which bounded her own court, she was already awake, preparing to rise and perform her ablutions previous to the early morning prayer, and the shuffling tramp of the men sounded ominous to her. What can it all mean she thought! Then the shot from above followed, but there was no response, and in a few moments more the shrieks of the dancing-women came loud and fast. She was not afraid, and got up, went through the high-arched kitchen to the door, unbarred it, and looked out into the yard, where several Beydurs whom she knew, and Mussulmans of the Governor, were standing, the latter of whom saluted her civilly as she asked them what had happened.

"Nothing," said one of the men in reply; "nothing, but that the new Governor is come, and we have a new master. The new Nawab came from Beejapoor, and has taken possession, and the old Nawab is a prisoner—that's all."

"And who is the new Nawab?"

"Nay, mother, we know not yet, for we have not seen him. But they say he is a God-fearing man; and so he appears to be, for when the AzÀn was proclaimed, he spread his waistband, and knelt down and said his prayers in the little pavilion on the rock before the palace. And his men love him, and declare he is a true, kind man and a brave soldier, and that is the reason he was sent here."

"It is a lonely place to come to," returned the old dame; "but he is married, perhaps?"

"Oh, yes, mother! and has two children; and he will send for them by-and-by."

"From Beejapoor?"

"No, mother, from Juldroog, where he has been serving."

"I know it well, friend. My lord, that is his father"—and she pointed with her thumb to the palace—"commanded the troops there, and I was with him and the Begum Sahiba. Ah! times are changed since then. Well, such is the will of God. And Osman Beg?"

"He was found asleep, mother, and they did not harm him."

"Asleep! Not drunk, I hope?"

"I fear he was, mother; quite without sense."

"Fie upon him! fie! How can he waken and show his face to pious men? It were better that he died; but he must fulfil his destiny, good or evil as it may be. I must, however, see to breakfast for the new lord and his people. Some things are left from last night; they will do for his men, but he shall have everything fresh, and as good, too, as Zuffoora can make it."

The old dame had gathered all the information she needed, and now retired to her own private room, where she dressed herself in an entirely choice suit of clothes, braided her hair, and put on her small stock of ornaments; and, thus prepared, crossed the court, and entered the women's apartments of the palace. They were quite empty, but littered with faded garlands of flowers, broken pÁn leaves, and jars which had held palm wine, the stale smell of which was very offensive. Then she rolled up the curtains of one or two of the open arches to let in the wind, and called to the eunuchs to come to her. No one, however, replied, and she went on through the passage. The door of Osman Beg's chamber was open, and she looked in. He was still on his bed, snoring loudly, and two strange men were guarding him, and his two personal attendants were by him. They had thrown a warm coverlet over him, but she could see his face, which was flushed and bloated, and in Zuffoora's sight he was disgusting.

"Come to me, Boodun," she said to one of the servants, "when he wakes, and I will send him some kicheri." Then she peeped into the hall of audience, which was a busy scene; and as it was quite light, though the sun had not risen, she could see everything. The new Governor was sitting in Osman Beg's seat, and the Moolla, the physician of the fort, the old Jemadar of the garrison, and some of the inferior officers, were sitting near him in their usual places. Others were coming in and presenting their nuzzurs, or offerings; some seating themselves, and others, retiring after having made their reverence, went out. There were two moonshees present looking over papers, of which one recorded the dates and addresses, and the other read them out to him; and beside these, there were the agents of the Zemindars who chanced to be in the fort, the Hindoo Patell and Patwari, and many others; so that the hall presented a busy aspect. Zuffoora-bee did not very well know what to do. Who was to tell the new Nawab that the cook was there, asking for orders; and the question would sound so odd amidst all the grave business going on, that she hesitated, but not for long. She was no coward, and she would at least show that she had the means of sending him food of which he must be in need, of ordering him a bath, and generally providing for his comfort. She therefore slipped forward confidently, yet modestly, and watched her opportunity till the Governor should look up, for he was reading a Persian letter, with a shade of anxiety upon his handsome face.

"Who art thou?" he said, with a pleasant smile, when he put the paper down, and looking up saw a neat, respectable-looking woman saluting him with due reverence. "Who art thou? Thou art not such an one as I looked to find here!"

"Your slave, Zuffoora-bee, is the cook, my lord, and offers her services. My lord must be hungry, and she wishes to know what he prefers, what his usual dishes are, and she will do her best to please him."

"Thou art thoughtful and kind, Zuffoora-bee," he replied. "Any other woman would have run away, but thou art here and doing thy duty. Why dost thou trust me?"

"I can trust one who is kind and gentle, as I hear my lord is. I can trust one who greets a poor slave with a smile instead of a curse, and who accepts her homage instead of having her pushed out of the durbar."

"You are a flatterer, Zuffoora-bee," said the Governor, laughing; "but go now, we are busy; send me anything you like; I am a plain soldier, and can eat anything God sends me; and if you will show my people where I can bathe now and sleep to-night, I shall be thankful. When my food is ready, you can send it."

"I will bring it myself, my lord, and see to the chamber and bath for you directly, for you must bathe ere you can eat comfortably," and making another respectful salutation, Zuffoora-bee walked proudly out. Inshalla! she, at least, had done her duty, and had been kindly treated, and now she would have her proper place in the new household, for she held her allegiance to the fallen Osman Beg to be already dissolved.

The Furashes, who had been witnesses of her reception, were again her obsequious servants; the women's chambers were washed out and purified by pastiles; one of the spare beds was set out, carpets were spread, and the bath prepared; and when the Governor had bathed, put on clean light clothes, and sat down on the soft cushions prepared for him, he felt invigorated and refreshed; while in regard to his assumption of his charge of the fort and its dependencies, there was nothing to be desired: all had been perfectly successful and satisfactory.

Then when Zuffoora-bee brought what she had prepared with her own skilful hands, some delicate kicheri, fresh fish from the river, some savoury kabobs, and an omelette, and spreading a neat dusturkhan, or dining-cloth, set the viands before him, and encouraged him to eat, he felt as though his lines had fallen in pleasant places, and that even among those rugged rocks he could be perfectly happy. He might, too, hear something of the old physician and his granddaughter, whom he had been directed to trace if possible, and in regard to whom his first report to the Queen must contain intelligence. Whether, however, he could obtain any from Zuffoora-bee or not was doubtful; and if it were given, it might not be true. Women of her standing were but too often ministers to their master's worst vices; and though the Moollas and all respectable persons in the morning durbar gave Zuffoora-bee the highest character, yet who could speak to her inner life? There was, however, no time to be lost; and after the excellent breakfast had been fully extolled, the Governor opened at once the subject of ZÓra and her grandfather.

Now, if there had been one subject more than another on which Zuffoora-bee desired to open her heart fully to one in power, it was that of poor little ZÓra and the old man, her grandfather; and if her account were prolix, it was interesting to her hearer, and the details were given with tears and sobs which attested their sincerity and truth. Yes, often and often Osman Beg had endeavoured to persuade her to entice the girl to the palace, and become the means of her forced marriage and ruin; but since the old Dervish had—in consequence of his great astrological science and Osman Beg's character—declined to receive him as a husband for the girl, and as ZÓra herself feared and detested him, nothing was done till the women came from Moodgul, and Johur and Yacoot carried her up to the palace.

"Then," continued the old dame, "the Nawab confined me to my own apartments, and the entrance to the kitchen was guarded. ZÓra and the two women lay in this room, and I was near. Oh! to hear her! Yet what could I do? If she had even sent me a message, I might have helped; and perhaps she did, for I heard the pÁn-seller's wife insisting on being allowed to pass to me, but she was turned out. I warrant, however, that she it was who sent word to Runga Naik, and then at night ZÓra fled with them. At least some say so, though others believe she fell into one of the deep holes between the rocks, and will never appear till the Day of Judgment. But I think she fled; and I, old as I am, would travel to Delhi if I thought there was any chance of finding her."

"Yes, she fled, Beebee," said the Nawab, with a sigh; "but she cannot be traced now. Runga Naik has been absent. Burma Naik, who has also been absent, did not find her on his return; and now no one knows where she is gone."

"Send me, my lord; send me; I will find her wherever she may be hidden away. God knows," she continued, sobbing, "she was so beautiful and so helpless that anyone might have seized her; and as to the old man, he is not only blind but hopelessly simple, and yet very obstinate. Ah, my lord! the more I think the more I fear."

"And was ZÓra so beautiful?"

"I never saw anyone like her," returned the dame. "I don't know what it was, but there was a sort of witchery about her ever since she was much younger than she is now, which no one could resist; and Osman Beg always said she was his fate, and he would have her even if he went to hell after her, for that was the wild way in which he talked to me."

"And she escaped free and unhurt, and with her honour?"

"She did, my lord. Osman Beg made a wild attempt to marry her the night Johur brought her up, but the Moolla protested against it; and though the buffoon Pundree, who is a Hindoo, my lord, made some pretence to be a Moolla, and to say the blessing, it was of no use, and Osman Beg waited till he could get the Kazee from Nalutwar. But send for Johur, if he likes he will tell you the truth; but you might cut him to pieces before he would say a word if he did not please."

"I will examine him before you, Zuffoora-bee;" and, calling to an attendant, he bid Johur, the Abyssinian, be brought in.

The slave's arms had been tied behind his back, because he had made some resistance, and bound so tightly, that he was in pain; and he piteously besought relief by loosening of the bonds. Two of the eunuchs who had charge of him, on being directed to do so, at once loosed the rope; and the Governor could see the tears spring to the slave's eyes as he knelt down, rubbed his forehead in the earth, and rising, stood before him, with his chest heaving and his cheeks wet.

"Why are you kind to me, my lord? Do I not deserve death? Bid some of thy people behead me, then I shall not see ZÓra as I do now."

"It is of her we would speak to thee, Johur; fear not, and tell the truth."

"My lord," he replied, "your slave will tell everything truly. Often had I been asked to entrap the child, often to bring her here, but I would not. I was flogged for that, but never mind, I could bear it; see, here are the marks of the whip. Then Jooma was ordered to go; and he, too, refused, and was instantly beheaded before Osman Beg himself; and I can show you the hole between the rocks where his bones lie, where the stain of his blood is upon the rocks; even the rains have not washed it away, nor the sun bleached it. Then, again, when the two women came from Moodgul, he sent for me, and said, 'Go and bring ZÓra; if not, yours will be Jooma's fate before nightfall.' I was a coward, my lord; I ought to have slain him; but I trembled and I went; and Yacoot and I brought ZÓra and put her here, with the two women. But I watched. If he had attempted violence I would have slain him, for I never quitted his side. When the Moolla refused to marry him, my dagger was loose in its sheath. I watched him all that day, without taking food. I lay down at the head of his bed at night, only when all were asleep stealing out into the court here to see if the child slept. I was here when the owls hooted, and I watched her steal out silently, step over the eunuchs, cross the court, and pass on through the broken wall. I saw her last when she paused once on the top of the gap, and looked around her, and the moonbeams rested on her sweet face, and it shone like that of an angel. Oh, my lord, I am only a poor Abyssinian, and have no proper speech to tell thee all; but that is the truth, and I would have followed her then, only that one owl hooted again, and I knew she had friends to help her, and was safe. Harm! no harm came to her, my lord. Osman Beg was afraid of what the Moollas, the old jemadars of the fort, and the worthy men who sate in the hall said to him; and he knew there would be a mutiny if he dared to dishonour the girl. Indeed, had she not escaped, there would have been one when the second attempt at marriage was tried. And now, my lord, bid them give me water, for my throat is dry; and do not have me bound, for I can be true to thee, my lord, and can help thee to find ZÓra, my pearl, my lily, my Peri. Oh, my lord! how I love her! I, the poor slave, and would give my life for her. Will you not answer for me, MÁma Zuffoora?"

"I will," said the old dame, earnestly. "Let my lord send us both to find the child and the old man, and we will go. Inshalla! we will bring them back, and the old house shall be desolate no longer."

"I will think about it, Zuffoora-bee; and when all means here are exhausted, I will send ye on their track, well believing your faith and love for the child. But, hark! they are calling me into the audience, and I must go. Come with me, Johur, and I will make thee over to my people."

As the Governor entered the hall, he saw that a violent struggle was going on. Osman Beg had awakened from his drunken sleep with confused intellects, and seeing strange faces beside his bed and none of his own attendants, had risen, suddenly pushed away his guards, and rushed, half naked as he was, towards his usual seat in the hall; but he was held fast by many of the new and old garrison, and the new Governor advancing, bade him sternly return to his apartment. Osman Beg, who was a very powerful man, still resisted violently, and could he but have possessed himself of any weapon, would have done serious injury. It was in vain that the new Governor explained who he was, and even showed him the Queen's warrant. Osman Beg was in no humour to hear or to understand, and the struggle was renewed. After several warnings, therefore, and being obliged to listen to all the vile abuse poured out against him, to being called a coward, and a Kafir, a traitor, and a slave, the Governor directed the attendants to tie Osman Beg's arms behind him easily with a soft turban, and to take him back to the room whence he had come. It was the act of being tied, perhaps, which first really awakened him to a clear sense of his position, and after a time he began to weep. No one came to him, none of his slaves or servants, and he was parched with thirst, with a craving for food. Now, therefore, the services of Zuffoora-bee were called into requisition; she had food and some cool sherbet ready for him, and when he became more reasonable the Governor went to him. They had been old acquaintances, and knew each other perfectly well; and Osman Beg, promising to be quiet, was relieved from his bonds, which had only been loosened when he ate.

"So long as it is not my virtuous cousin, Abbas Khan, who has been sent to relieve me, I do not care," he said. "The Queen has a right to appoint whom she will, and to recall whom she will, and you, sir, are welcome, though you have come in a rough fashion. I think you will find all the records correct, and I now give you the key of the treasury;" and he felt in his waistband for it, but neither was it there nor that of his private papers, and his countenance fell.

"I have possession of all your private papers also, my lord," said the Governor. "It was for them that the surprise was made, and I already see that they are important. Nay," he continued, "may even imperil your life, my lord, and tally sadly with those which were read before the Queen in council the night that Abbas Khan slew Yacoot, the champion of Elias Khan, in the combat of ordeal. Hyat Khan, the Kotwal, found them, and I was present at their examination."

"When did this happen?" asked Osman Beg.

"Three days ago, my lord; I was present on duty at the palace that night, and I left the city before daylight next morning."

"Then give me my papers, Meer Sahib, and let me depart to justify myself, and seek my wife, whom Abbas Khan has spirited away."

"Your wife, my lord; who is she?"

"She is ZÓra," he replied, "who lived here. Oh, ZÓra!" he cried in bitter pain, "this comes of thy sorcery. Let me go, sir!" he shouted fiercely. "Let me go! by what right do you detain me?"

"By this, the Queen's warrant," replied the Governor, "which my secretary will read to you. You will see that your person is to be kept securely; your papers sealed up and sent to Court, where you will be summoned when the King's pleasure is known. I am not in the habit of exceeding my orders, or of using hardly men of rank superior to my own. Your papers are even now being fastened up, and two of my own men, with a party of the garrison and some Beydurs, will escort them to the city."

From that time Osman Beg gave up hope, and fell back on his bed with a groan, covering his face. Had he possessed a dagger he might, perhaps, in his despair have stabbed himself; but as the first excitement was blunted, he grew sullen, would speak to no one, and refused for several days the food which Zuffoora brought herself, and vainly tried to persuade him to eat.

Meanwhile, Zuffoora and Johur were impatient to be gone. Johur had discovered that ZÓra and the old man had left Korikul, and Burma Naik had even traced them beyond KukÉra, on the way to Sugger. It was most likely that they were there; and the old dame, provided with a comfortable litter, a strong pony for an attendant, and her little baggage, and Johur, and ten stout fellows of the garrison, were despatched one day to their great joy with the almost certainty of recovering the child and her grandfather. They followed them easily for several days by slow marches. They heard of them at the shrine of Sofee Surmurt at Sugger, but beyond that there was no trace. A worthy weaver's wife told Zuffoora that a good matron of Gulburgah, when on her pilgrimage to the shrine, had taken charge of ZÓra and her grandfather; but as she belonged to a city beyond Gulburgah, who could tell where she might be? And thus it was that Zuffoora-bee and the Abyssinian returned to Juldroog weary and disappointed.

Had Abbas Khan spirited away the girl on any pretence? The Governor could not believe what Osman Beg repeatedly asserted; but still it might be so, and he doubted. Otherwise the affairs of the fort went on regularly and comfortably. The Governor received deputations from the Nawab of Moodgul and the Beydur Naik of Wakin KÉra, and all respectable neighbours round; but the only thing in which he had failed was not being able to trace ZÓra. We, however, who have much interest in the child and her old grandfather must endeavour to do so.