It was but a short distance, barely more than a mile, to the entrance to the strange fortress in which PÁm Naik, the Beydur Prince, held his Court. All that could be seen from a distance were two separate forts on each side of what might be called the gate, well built of granite, and picturesquely and commandingly situated on the summits of high rocks, much after the fashion of the bastions of Juldroog. From these forts, and from bastions below them, two lines of fortification had been carried along the face of the hill to the top, where they were lost in woods that crowned the summit. Flags were flying on all these towers and bastions, which gave the grim-looking works a cheerful expression; and the great standard of the Beydur flew out from the highest tower, fluttering in the western breeze. At the barrier itself the friend of Burma Naik, Syud Moostafa, the Naik's Persian secretary, with others, were in attendance, who received the old man with profound salutations, while some respectable-looking mamas in like manner saluted ZÓra, and bid both welcome. They were to remain in the Syud's house, where apartments had been prepared for them; and while her grandfather was carried off, much against his wish, to visit the great Naik himself, ZÓra was conducted to the house in which they were to stay.

Wakin-Keyra was a strong place. Inside the second barrier of huge natural rocks the valley extended into a considerable bay or basin, filled by a small artificial lake formed by damming up a stream which descended from the hills. This lake was nearly circular, or perhaps more of an oval shape, and was surrounded by a short sward, always green, except where rocks jutted out from the mountain side, and dipped into the water. All round the sides of this natural basin were the houses of the inhabitants, of all castes, built of stone, cemented with clay or mortar, according to the ability of the builder, and with terraced roofs of lime or clay. The houses seemed to end with a level piece of ground at the eastern end, but from its height, the houses that covered it, and extended to some distance among the woods, could not be seen. The Naik's house, or palace, occupied the greater part of the south side of the amphitheatre, and, though it consisted of a great number of separate buildings and courts, could hardly be distinguished from other private houses that adjoined it, being built in the same manner, in very homely fashion.

The old Syud's account of his reception by the Beydur Rajah PÁm Naik was amusing. He had accompanied the Persian secretary to the palace, as it was called, and had been ushered into the presence of the Prince, to whom he made his salutation. "I would have given much to see him, as he spoke kindly to me in Canarese—his own language—but that was impossible; so I had to listen only, and the secretary and a Brahmin Moonshi, who spoke good Persian, interpreted for me. The Rajah had a number of wants, which I must try to satisfy. In the first place, the new part of his palace, where he wishes to live, is at present haunted by sprites and demons, who must be exorcised and sent away. He has tried many Hindoo exorcists, Brahmins and Bairagees, and some Mussulmans, of whom a saint, who is called the Kala Peer, or Black Saint, was partly successful in one building; but in the others the spirits answered that they would not depart, as they were very comfortable, and they remained. Then the youngest Ranee is troubled with bad visions and dreams at nights, and has become thin and weak, and several children in the house are ailing and the Prince himself has low spirits; and I found his pulse very irregular. So all these things have to be looked after; and thou wilt have many amulets, charms, puleetas, and exorcisms for the house to copy for me, ZÓra, and I shall be several days at the work. I have told the Rajah that I cannot begin so arduous and delicate a task without purification and some fasting for three days; and our host, who knows a little of the science, will afford me every facility. And besides, ZÓra, he is rich, this Prince, and will give me a great donation, and that will help me in the Turreequt. Ah, child! we shall win that, by the blessing of Alla, and live happily till death."

"If you will show me which figures you wish for," replied ZÓra, "I will get the book, and copy them for you."

"Not yet, not yet," replied her grandfather. "I have to ascertain what sort of spirits they are who have taken possession of these poor people, who are but low caste infidels; and they must be questioned in order that they may declare themselves. And thou wilt have to come too, ZÓra, to help me with the women, for they are in private, it seems, and cannot see a man, though I am old and blind; which is foolishness. But they are very ignorant, I fear. And how hast thou been received and cared for, my child?"

"Very kindly, Abba," replied ZÓra; "and we have several rooms, and this open verandah to sit in, from which we can see over the whole of the strange city which lies before us—the strangest I ever saw or heard of. There are not so much as ten ells of level ground in it, and the streets are mere paths up the mountain side, and they rise from the pretty tank which fills the bottom. All appears to be a mass of houses, tier above tier; and there is no level ground except at the top, where I see more houses and trees, and green grass. But they are all Beydur houses, they tell me."

"Then where can we go for our evening and morning begging, child? Once we have begun that, we must not abandon it."

"I know not, Abba; but why beg now? More food has been sent from the palace than would last us a week; and the Brahmin clerk who came with it said the same quantity would come every day."

"I tell thee, child, it must be, even if we sat at the door in the street. Once a vow is vowed to the Lord, can it be recalled? God forbid! Our host is too pious a person to object to it, and I will explain all. Now I must bathe. Tell Mamoolla and Ahmed to prepare the hot water while I lie down for a while to meditate, or perchance sleep. At the time of evening prayer the secretary will return home, and we can go together, for it is but a step from hence. Perhaps letters may be sent for us."

On her own part ZÓra was curious to see the ladies of the Beydur Prince's family, and the deportment of a perhaps barbarous Court; and as she arrived at the palace in a closed litter, several women servants took charge of her, and she was conducted up a flight of stairs which led to an open gallery, fitted with transparent screens of fine bamboo work, about the middle of which sat the Ranee of the family and several children, who rose courteously to receive ZÓra, and—owing to her perfect knowledge of Canarese—put the girl at her ease at once. Never had she met with any persons so loquacious and inquisitive.

They had heard of Juldroog; and an elderly woman present had even paid a visit to ChÁya Bhugwuti in fulfilment of a vow, and seen the river mother in her fury. And ZÓra had lived within sight and sound of it all her life. Was she married? Was she even in seclusion? And why not? She was too old and too beautiful to be allowed to go abroad into the world. Had she no jewels, no fine clothes? nothing but the coarse soosi she wore, and coarse muslin over it? No, ZÓra had replied, they were Fakeers, and every day they begged for alms in the name of Ali, the commander of the faithful. Long they had talked thus, and in the evening lamps were lighted, and ZÓra could see how homely everything around her was, except the ladies' persons, for they were covered with valuable jewels and diamonds, which flashed in the lamplight, while they wore magnificent saris of silk, with rich gold borders and ends, very valuable.

Then, after a while, her grandfather's approach was announced, and the ladies rose and retired into an inner room, and the Rajah entered, followed by the old man, led by the secretary and some Brahmins and Beydurs. He did not notice ZÓra, who had retreated into a corner with some of the women servants or slaves, and was awaiting the result of her grandfather's visit with some anxiety as to what would happen. Presently he sent for her, and bade her sit by him, and observe for him.

The Rajah, a short, stout man, of fair complexion for a Beydur, seated himself, after a proclamation of his titles by his silver mace-bearers, who then withdrew; and the girl who was possessed by the evil spirit was sent for, ZÓra having been cautioned to observe exactly what happened. As he had seated himself, her grandfather had called for a censer and some incense powder; and as ZÓra told him the girl was entering the room he threw it on the live charcoal with a paper charm, and a great smoke arose; during which time he was muttering Arabic to himself. ZÓra noticed that the girl, who might be about her own age, now trembled violently, and seemed slightly convulsed. She had made efforts with her arms and hands as if to put away the censer, and even to cry out and escape; but she was held firmly by her attendants.

"Bring her to me, that I may breathe upon her," said the old man. "I will not hurt her, but that evil spirit must come out of her, else she will suffer and die. At present it is living in her life."

But the girl would not move; and though they raised her to her feet, she sank down again, shivering and screaming; but the women took her up, and laid her on the carpet before the old man, so that he could place his right hand on her head. Then he said to her in a gentle voice, after repeating another charm, and casting more incense into the censer,—

"Who art thou that possesseth this girl? Speak!" But there was no reply.

"I adjure thee, in the name of Solomon, son of David, of Jibbreel and Azraeel, and of ye, O Abd-ool-Zadir, Zadir Jillaneo, Bhytab, Hunmuntoo, Nursimha, and Bhyraon; speak, and give me thy name!"

Then the girl foamed at the mouth and cried with an exceeding bitter cry, "I am Bassuppa! let me dwell in peace. I love this body, and will remain." The voice was hoarse and deep, like that of a man, and contrasted fearfully with the slight girlish form from which it proceeded.

"Who was Bassuppa?" asked the Syud, but the girl did not answer; she only groaned and sighed bitterly, "Let me alone, let me alone, lest I kill her."

"Who was Bassuppa?" asked the Syud of the Rajah.

"He was her attendant bearer when she was young, and he loved her much, as she did him. He died, and they carried him on a bier down from his home to the burning place, and she saw his body from this balcony over the gate, where the nobat plays. She was immediately attacked by convulsions; and when again she became sensible, declared that Bassuppa had turned his head, opened his eyes, and looked at her, and had remained in her ever since."

"Enough! I understand now what is to be done," said the old man to the Rajah. "It is a powerful spirit, but one over whom I have command. Fear not, thy child shall be well in three days, and restored to thee."

"She is my pet, my darling," replied the Rajah, with emotion, "and her mother's too. If thou drivest this spirit from the child thou shalt know that a Beydur Prince can be grateful."

"Speak not, my lord, lest you break the spell; it is already working, as I see the child's lips moving. Listen!"

"I must have time to think," she said. "Let me alone till the third day, then I will answer thee."

"Keep her very quiet," said the old man; "let her be amused; make a doll's feast for her, or take her to some garden where she can play, and I will send my granddaughter with some powders that must be given to her as she goes to sleep at night, and as she rises in the morning. And now, Rajah Sahib, may we depart?"

Then pÁn and uttar were brought, and garlands of flowers; and on a silver tray, covered with brocade, were a few pÁn leaves with five large gold coins on them; and the old man, when ZÓra whispered to him, took them up and tied them in the end of his scarf. But in regard to his vow of begging he would not relax, and when they reached their house her grandfather called to ZÓra and said, "We must go, my child," and she led him into the street, along which he walked with difficulty nearly to the palace gate, where they stopped to sing one of the invocations; and ZÓra's voice was so sweet, that many of those who came to the evening Court dropped money into her bag; and after a while they returned, and she found that there was more in it than had ever been before.

ZÓra saw little of her hostess, who was a proud woman of a high Syud family, relations of the Wallee, or saint, of the city, and she had by no means approved of her husband inviting the old Dervish to her house. "Thank the Lord we are people of family," she said to him, "and in my father's house. I never heard of a Fakeer being invited to reside in it, or to be attended by our servants as if he were a Nawab. They used to live without, and take what was left of our meals, and that was good enough for them. But this old Syud has very fine notions; his servant and grandchild must cook for him all sorts of dainty dishes, which, I own, they do very well; but they are Fakeers all the same; and though they earn riches, ay, riches every day, they go out at night when that great girl ought to be shut up, and go and sing and bring back a bag of money. I saw them count what they had gained, and there were many rupees, and even some hoons among the coppers. Can this be right?"

"Peace!" said her husband; "thy mouth is bitter, Sitara-bee. Thou shouldst not complain, for all that comes from the palace goes to thee. I tell thee, learned as I am esteemed to be, I have never met his equal yet, whether in medicine or exorcism. Peace, therefore! the time will come that thou wilt esteem it an honour to have had such a guest beneath thy roof."

"And the girl embroiders caps and knits drawers-strings," cried the dame, with a sneer, "and sells them; and bodices too. Is that a holy occupation?"

"Peace, I say again, Beebee! Thy mouth is bitter and thy tongue long, and it is not good to speak evil of a holy Syud;" and he went out before his wife could reply, as he saw she was determined to have the last word; but she sat down to her spinning-wheel and grumbled notwithstanding. "Shall I ask the girl to get me an amulet against barrenness?" she said to herself, after a while. "I am yet young enough. I wonder what it would cost, or whether the Dervish would give it in exchange for his lodging. I must see about this, for such things are." And she stopped her wheel and sat meditating, with her forefinger between her teeth; while, by the smile that spread over her face, her thoughts were apparently pleasant ones.

The Ranee and the children had departed to the garden at Bohnal, where they were always glad to go to escape the confinement of the palace. There they played about, sat under the shade of the fine trees, went to fish in the lake, and had a play performed by some strolling weavers and stone-cutters, who had joined together for the occasion. They represented scenes in the life of Krishna, the tutelary divinity of the Rajah's family, and their performance always afforded a great treat. The girl who had been affected by demoniacal influences was now the merriest of the party, and her mother, with a thankful heart, recognised the improvement with gratitude. But what would be the final result? Would the science of the Dervish prevail over, as she believed, the Satanic influence? Well, the third day had arrived, and they returned early in the morning; and soon after a message was brought to the Dervish that the child had fallen down in a fit, and was talking and raving incoherently. A palanquin had been sent for him, accompanied by the secretary, and he was to come directly. But he did not go. He sent word that he had to keep himself pure during the day, and must remain in prayer till evening, when he would come. Meanwhile the child was to be kept quiet, and would most likely sleep.

ZÓra heard him during most part of the day repeating incantations, or verses from the Koran, but he would eat nothing. Altogether ZÓra was anxious; and though she continued at her embroidery all day she was not the less disturbed, for how many stories had not her grandfather told her of failures in exorcism when the demon had, in spite, entered into the body of the exorcist. "What charm would her grandfather use?" and she had the book on the science, written by His Excellency Mahomed Ghous, upon her knee, when her grandfather called to her.

"Child," he said, "my soul is troubled, for I do not remember a passage in the holy book that I need to recollect. Refer to it, and follow me while I repeat the exorcism entirely. If I fail anywhere, stop me. The puleeta to be used is one where the demon is strange and unknown, and begins, 'Whoever ye are.' It is a square, with a smaller square at the right hand upper corner, which is divided into sixteen even portions."

"I have it here, Abba; say on."

We need not quote the incantation, but the old man repeated it correctly, and was pleased. "Inshalla, child!" he said, "we shall gain the victory. I ought to wield the charm myself, but there is no help for that, blind as I am; thou must do it for me, and as I shall recite the incantation very slowly, thou canst copy the figures, which must be burned while the ink is wet. Meanwhile study it well, that thou make no mistake."

In the evening they proceeded to the palace, where the girl was still moaning in her heavy sleep. All those around her could distinguish, were the words, "He must not come! I will not depart!" The old man had prepared an earthen pot with a cover, which contained some fruits and seeds, and placed some silver pieces of money in it, and smeared the inside with ground sandalwood paste. Then he passed his hand over the child several times from head to foot; and as the earthen lamp placed on the top of this vessel was lighted, three kinds of oil being used, those sitting around observed the girl become restless, flinging about her arms and sighing deeply. Her mattress, which had been laid on the floor, was now removed, and the place washed with liquid red clay and cow-dung, and she was taken up and laid upon it; then the exorcist passed his hands over her again, and incense and perfumes were lighted, which cast up volumes of smoke, so that the old man's face as he sat at the girl's feet could hardly be seen. When this had subsided a little he told ZÓra to be ready; and she, taking up the pen that had been provided, rapidly drew the outline of the charm large enough to admit of her writing the incantation. The group formed a strange and solemn picture. The girl, lying restless and insensible, extended on the floor, with the venerable old Syud, with his anxious yet benevolent face and long white beard, sitting at her feet, with ZÓra by his side. At the patient's head were her mother and several other ladies and servants, weeping bitterly, while the Rajah himself, with the secretary, who was a privileged person, watched the result with intense interest. The room was dark; except where the lamp cast a dim yellow light upon the group, and wreaths of smoke still eddied about the ceiling and walls, seeking egress. The only sounds were the sobs of the women, the occasional low moans of the patient, and the grating sound of ZÓra's pen as it passed over the paper. At last the old man, with the usual invocation, "In the name of God most clement and merciful," began the incantation, "Whoever ye are;" while ZÓra plied her pen as fast as she could, copying from the book before her. Every name pronounced was cried with a loud voice, and a considerable pause made, so that ZÓra was not hurried, and the whole ceremony being repeated three times, her grandfather took the pen, and ZÓra directing his hand to the place, he wrote the concluding words and breathed over the whole. Then the paper was sprinkled with some scented powder, and rolled up tightly, a thread of fine cotton being passed round it; then it was lighted, and as the old man recited passages from the Koran, green and red-coloured flames issued from the burning roll, which all could see; but the girl opened her large eyes, shuddered, and tried to hide her face in the floor. As the paper burned out, she was convulsed for a short time, and then lay still; finally she sat up, opened and rubbed her eyes, and stretching out her arms, said quietly to them all, "Where am I? What has been done to me? There was something sitting on my chest," she continued, innocently, "and it is gone!"

"Shookr! Hazar shookr! Thanks, a thousand thanks!" exclaimed the Dervish. "Lord, thou hast heard my prayer. Friends, he that possessed the child is gone, but he is here among us!"

At this announcement every one shuddered, and the old exorcist called to the spirit to reply; but there was no answer. He then asked the girl whether anything had been said or whispered to her, and she replied innocently, "Yes. Bassuppa told me he was going away for ever, and would never return; he could not remain, because some one was too powerful, and he cried very much, and I saw him no more. Then I awoke and saw you all;" and she arose, went to the Dervish, and prostrating herself, kissed his feet, and laid her head against them, and then kissed ZÓra's feet, and then her father's and mother's, and sisters' all round; and all of them wept tears of joy, while her mother became so excited and hysterical that she was led away for awhile, and the old man gave directions as to where a strong charm was to be pasted up over every door and window; and, calling the girl, he placed another amulet in a handkerchief, and bound it round her arm, till a proper silver case could be made for it; also one to be worn round her neck, attached to her necklace. And he put his hands on her head, and wished her joy and peace in her life, and children to cheer it.

(Perhaps some of my readers will say, Why was this piece of superstitious observance introduced? To which we reply, that it is only as one instance of the many strange beliefs in supernatural effects which exist among Mussulmans and other classes of the people now, and have done so from the earliest times. Many curious and interesting episodes of lives turn upon them, and the belief in them is universal, with exorcisms of evil, mischievous and malignant demons and spirits. There are charms supplied against every mischance of man or womanhood, youth or age, against haunted houses and the evil eye. On the other hand, there are charms for evil purposes, which are believed and practised as much as the others. The incidents of the exorcism described here took place in presence of the writer of this tale when in India, and he could adduce many equally strange and affecting, or, in some instances, detestable.)

"We can ill repay this kindness, Huzrut," said the Rajah, as they adjourned into the hall of audience, and sat down; "but if you will accept of what I offer, and keep it in remembrance of me, I shall be thankful."

"I would rather, my lord, wait till I am assured that what I have done is effectual," replied the old man, respectfully; "and I must see your daughter every day."

"As you please," returned the Rajah. "I will have my gifts sealed up, and the day you have to depart they shall be given to you. As to your granddaughter, I must leave her to the Lady Ranee, and you must promise me not to interfere with her."

"But at least you cannot refuse this to shield you from the chill night wind," he continued; and he threw a delicate white Cashmere shawl of some value over the old man's shoulders. As to ZÓra, she was newly dressed by the good Ranee; and when she emerged from her palanquin at the secretary's house, she appeared in a gorgeous green silk sari, delicately shot with crimson. She had a valuable gold ring round her neck, and a gold pair of bracelets, and the whole formed a very costly gift. "Would that I could see thee, ZÓra," said her grandfather, as he felt the soft rich silk and its heavy gold borders, and touched the ornaments; "but they befit thee, and some day——" and here he broke off suddenly, and was silent. As to ZÓra herself, perhaps, there was a touch of vanity as well as gratification in her mind, for she did not take off the grand clothes immediately; and old Mamoolla came and peered at her all over, and went and lit another lamp; and the secretary's wife came and looked also, and cried aloud her congratulations in wonder; but she was jealous and envious in her heart, and I am afraid her husband had much to bear in her accusations of idleness, in that he was not so good an exorcist as the venerable old Dervish. "Those people get money by their work," said the dame, with a sneer. "The girl has presents worth hundreds of rupees; when wilt thou give me a gold neck ring and bracelet, or a sari like hers? And who knows what the old Syud has got besides. Touba! Touba! Thou a Syud, and a man of letters, shouldst be able to do as much as he."

The secretary did not vouchsafe a reply. He had been looking at ZÓra's glorious eyes and expressive face all the evening, as they sat around the ailing child, and I think that more beautiful visions than his wife's shrewish face excluded thought of her more than she would have liked.

The fame of the old Dervish's cure, or, as some now called him, the Hukeems, or Physician, spread not only through the town but through the country, and applicants for relief thronged upon him, making offerings which were sometimes considerable; but from most people he would take nothing; yet to ZÓra's perception they were growing rich, and, as Abba said, with a look of satisfaction, there was enough to make the Turreequt easy; and, after that, to settle in some pleasant place and to become a Wallee, or saint, at whose tomb people should come and pray.