I said my blood boiled. Could it be that one so lovely—one who had kept company with the nobles and men of wealth of Hyderabad, had seen aught to admire in me, who was unused to courtly scenes, and was even yet a boy, deficient in manner and address?—could it be that, from my dress and appearance, she thought me rich—one who would squander my substance upon her? These thoughts were passing through my mind, and we had nearly reached our encampment without my having interchanged a word with my companions. The silence was broken by Bhudrinath.

"How is this, Meer Sahib?" said he; "what has tied your tongue?—have you nothing to talk about after our night's entertainment—no remarks to make on the beautiful Kunchinee? By Alla!—though it is a Mahomedan oath—I would almost be content to give up the heaven of Indra, and turn Moosulman, were I sure of being attended in the paradise of Mahomed by a set of Houris just such as she. And to think of her belonging to that old wretch the Nuwab, and to be buried in this hole of a Mahratta village, when she might have half the nobles of Hyderabad at her feet, were she there. By Alla!—I say again—it were worth the while to try and entice her away from the old sensualist; and it would be something to talk about, not to mention her company on the road, and the rare addition she would make to our evening amusements."

"Why," I replied, carelessly, "the girl is, as you say, of surpassing beauty, and no doubt feels herself uncomfortable in this abode of swine; yet to get her away would be no easy task; and what should we do with her when we got her?"

"I shall try and see if her coming with us is any such marvellous difficulty," he rejoined; "and, you know, if afterwards there is any pursuit, she and the rest of her people are easily provided for."

"Now you speak like a cold-blooded Thug," I retorted angrily (for deny it as much as I would to myself, I could not but feel that the dancing-girl had more than interested me); "and I would sooner quit you all, and get back to Hindostan the best way I could, than that a hair of her head should be injured."

"I did but jest, Meer Sahib; you know I am not one who wars with women, except when they come before me in the fair and lawful exercise of my vocation. No, if we get the girl, it must be by fair means; and strait-laced as your father is on many points, he is too fond of a good song and good music to deny us having her in company; so do not mind what I said, and do not go to sleep upon your anger to your poor friend, if indeed you have any."

"I am not angry," said I, "though I certainly felt my blood rise when you alluded to her. We will consider about the rest in the morning; and if we can but persuade my father that the girl comes of her own accord, I do not anticipate any objection; but we must be sure that she will go first; and to this end I have a kind of clue which may guide me."

"How?—did she say aught to you?" he eagerly inquired.

"No," said I; "how could she in that crowd? but you know I understand Persian—thanks to the old Moola, my teacher—and you do not; and from the words of the last plaintive song she sang, and her mode of expressing them, I have a shrewd guess that she is tired of confinement, and of her mate. You know the old proverb, 'Kubootur bu kubootur, bÂz bu bÂz'—pigeons mate with pigeons, and hawks with hawks."

"Well," said Bhudrinath, "according to that, she is more likely to look to you than to me; and you know I am a Brahmin; therefore I leave her and the matter to your management; I am ready to assist when I can be of use. Inshalla! as you people say, we shall make a corner-stone of the old fellow's beard, and laugh him to scorn."

"Ameen!" said I, "we will try, at all events; and you shall hear from me in the course of to-morrow more upon this subject." We then separated for the night; and I was glad Peer Khan and the rest of the men had been so far behind us as not to have been able to overhear any part of our conversation. I confess that, as I lay down to sleep, I earnestly desired the success of our scheme, though as yet it could hardly be called one; and though I had in some degree struggled with it, I had not been proof against the fascination of the dancing-girl; nor indeed was it to be wondered at, after the words of the old woman.

Soon after the morning prayer the leaders of the band were assembled to see the opening of the bags of him who had died the evening before. My father presided in the assembly; and one by one they were brought from the pile of merchandize. We had indeed got a prize; and it was not to be wondered at that the care of them had cost the man they belonged to so much anxiety. In each of them, among a quantity of old clothes, rags, and old copper vessels, were concealed small boxes filled with precious stones, pearls, small diamonds, rubies, and emeralds; and in two of the boxes were sets of ornaments made up, and set with jewels; and two in particular, a bazu bund, or ornament for the arm, and a sir-pesh, or ornament for the turban, were particularly splendid. My father, who had a good deal of experience in these matters, pronounced the whole to be worth at least fifteen thousand rupees, and offered the band the alternative of distributing the whole in as equal portions as he could, or of waiting till our arrival at Hyderabad, where they could easily be sold for ready money. The latter, after some deliberation, was determined on, as had been the case with the former booty.

I proposed, as I knew that we might perhaps run short of money on the road, especially if we met with no more rich travellers, to offer one of the two ornaments for sale to the Nuwab, and as I had made his acquaintance to take it to him myself. The proposal was agreed to, and I was not without hope that by some lucky chance I might fall in with the old woman who had spoken to me the night before, and might be able to arrange a meeting with her, which should guide us in our future plans; so accordingly about noon I called Bhudrinath to accompany me, and we proceeded to the palace, as it was called by the villagers. By the way we met with our friend the Kotwal; but I cut him short with "Another time, Kotwaljee,"—for it seemed as though we were to have a long story—"another time, my friend, we will pay you a visit; but at present the matter we have in hand is urgent, and it being past noon we are afraid of being denied admittance, and so you must excuse us."

"Of course," said he, "I will not detain you, and I shall not fail to present myself at your camp this evening to receive your further commands."

"That means," said Bhudrinath as we moved on, "that he expects a present. These worthies have been my study for many years."

"Ay," said I, "we must pay him well, and he will be the first to cry up our praises should anything happen; but do you anticipate anything?"

"Not I," said he; "I wish we could always do our work as securely, and get as well paid for it; but here we are at the Nuwab's gate."

An attendant at our request took in our names to the Nuwab, and after a short delay we were again ushered into his presence, and received with the same civility as we had been the night before. After some desultory conversation, I opened the object of our visit. "Khodawund," said I, "my father pleads an attack of fever and cold, for not attending to present his nuzzur at your feet, and he trusts you will pardon his seeming neglect. In his behalf I have brought a rare piece of jewellery for your inspection, which he hopes may please you; and by its purchase you will not only materially assist him, but it will become the property of one worthy to possess and wear it."

Thus saying I produced the ornament for the turban, and laid it before him. He was evidently much struck with its beauty and the fine water of the precious stones, and after turning it in every position he could to catch the exact light for it, laid it down with a kind of sigh. "It is indeed beautiful, and worthy of the turban of Bundugan Ali himself; but," said he, "I am too poor to buy it: its value must be very great."

"No doubt," said I, "my grandfather must have paid handsomely for it; but times have altered with us, and we have been glad to sell our family property for whatever it would fetch. In this instance, far be it from your slave's intention to put a price upon an ornament without peer in its fashion; yet methinks it would so well become the forehead of my lord that he ought not to let slip such an opportunity of possessing it, to be enabled to show it one day at the court of his prince."

"Thou sayest truly; and if I may, I will but show it in the Mahal, and see how the persons of my household like it. Inshalla! they will approve of it, and then we will see if we can come to terms about it."

"Certainly," said I; "the time has been when it would have been nothing for our house to have presented a tray of such to one of my lord's power and rank; but we are reduced, as I said, and are no longer fit possessors of what we dare not wear."

The Nuwab took the jewel, and went into his zenana: he was absent a long time, but we could see by his face on his return that it had been approved of. "They have looked at it in a thousand ways, and have discovered that there is good fortune to come with it: not that I need any; but you know what a parcel of old women are," said he. "And now I will ask what may be the price: you know we nobles of Hyderabad are not overburthened with money, and you must be moderate in your demand."

"Why," said I, "I am flattered by the opinion of those who have seen it, and can only say, that my grandfather (may his memory live for ever!) paid so large a sum for the jewel that I am afraid to mention it. My lord must observe particularly its exquisite water. He, I say, collected the stones one by one during a long period of his life, and they cost him alone six thousand rupees; the gold around them is somewhat more; but my father will esteem himself fortunate if five thousand rupees be given for it."

"It is too much," said the Nuwab with a sigh: "where have I five thousand rupees to lay out in such a bauble as this? My friends, I have been gratified by the sight of it, but to purchase it is out of the question; the money I have not. Yet stay; allow me to have it valued by a jeweller, and we may perhaps come to terms."

"By all means," said I; "I have told my lord no lie in stating the price of it: but let the jeweller see it; he may fix a smaller sum; and such is our urgent necessity for a little ready money that perhaps we may be induced to take something less."

The jeweller was accordingly sent for, and arrived after a short time. He was shown the jewel; and from the expression of admiration on his countenance, I could see we had not overvalued it. He took it to the light, and putting on his spectacles, examined it in every possible way. At last he returned, and taking the spectacles from his nose, asked the price we had fixed on it. I told him. "At the time this was made up," said he, "no doubt it was worth the sum you mention, for the stones are of rare water; nevertheless, we all know that men cannot afford to expend money as they used to do; and all things considered, perhaps at present four thousand rupees would not be too much, and indeed a fair price."

"It is too little; we must be content to sell other articles to supply our necessities: so Nuwab Sahib," said I, "with our profound thanks for your condescension, we ask leave for our departure;" and I took up the jewel and arose.

"Stay," said he; "I offer you three hundred rupees more: four thousand three hundred, surely that is sufficient."

"Make it five hundred," I replied, "and it is yours." And after much haggling on both sides, the price was fixed at four thousand four hundred and fifty. Of this, two thousand five hundred were paid by the Nuwab's treasurer in money, and for the rest, at my request, a bill was made out by a sahoukar of the village on Hyderabad. And after again offering our thanks to the Nuwab, we took leave of him for ever.

"Not a bad morning's work," said I to my companion as we walked homewards, attended by some of the Nuwab's soldiers, escorting the men who carried the bags of money: "the sight of the coin will gladden my old father's heart; and it will be something to divide among the men, who are really in want of money, and will keep them comfortably till we reach the city, even though we should fall in with no more rich prizes."

"Indeed, you may congratulate yourself on your address and good manners; for without them you could not have carried the matter off in the way you have done," said he. "Now if I, though I am a far older Thug, had tried it, I should have most likely failed for want of a plausible story. The old fellow swallowed the account of your grandfather as if it had been as true as that we are now here. By Krishna, thou art a rare boy!"

"These matters sharpen one's intellect; and though I could not deceive an unfortunate traveller as you can, you see I am of some use at a pinch, Bhudrinath."

"All will come in time," said he; "I do not despair of you after this: and if you accompany me in my work, you will soon excel me, I think."

"We shall see," I returned; "but our errand is not complete; we have not met the old woman."

"Ha! so that plan is still in your head?" cried he; "I warrant it you dreamt of the Kunchinee last night, and your young heart is all on fire."

"No," said I, laughing, "not quite that; but I have some hope, and I shall return to the Kotwal's chowree after a little time, and perhaps the old creature may be in the bazar and may see me."

"Shall I accompany you?" asked he.

"No," said I, "I think it would mar the business; I will go alone; the presence of another besides myself might prevent her, if I meet her, from being communicative."

"As you will," said he; "as you are determined to carry the matter to the utmost, you have a better chance of success than I have, and besides you are a principal, while I could only be an agent."

Thus conversing, we arrived at the tents, and dismissing the soldiers and money-carriers with a handsome present, I had the bags moved into my father's tent, who was asleep. I ranged them before him, and awakening him, pointed to them. He rubbed his eyes, grumbling at being aroused from his slumber; but they were quickly fascinated by the sight of the bags, and I could not help laughing heartily at his astonishment, as he took them up one by one, guessing at their contents.

"What, my son! Ameer Ali, where hast thou got all this? There must be five hundred rupees in each of them! One, two, three, four, five," said he, counting them: "two thousand five hundred! impossible! My son, what hast thou been doing? My brain is in astonishment. Where didst thou get it?"

"There is just what you say, father," said I; "each contains five hundred, or nearly. It is the price of the jewel you gave me to sell, which it seems was worth more than we thought for. I asked at a venture five thousand rupees, and I have brought you four thousand four hundred and fifty, which was as much as I could get: here are hoondees for two thousand, and the rest is in the bags."

"As much as you could get, boy!" cried my father; "why thou hast done wonders. Mashalla! we are rich indeed; this is more than I ever expected." And, his eyes fairly running over with tears, he embraced me warmly.

"Now," said I, "as I have done good service, I have in return a favour to beg, which I hope my father will grant; and it is a matter I dared not settle without his sanction."

"Say on," said my father; "I can deny thee nothing."

"Why," continued I, "there is a Tuwaif of surpassing beauty, who sings like a bulbul, and who is anxious to accompany us to Hyderabad. I dared not allow it without speaking to you."

The old man's visage clouded. "A Tuwaif!" said he; "and dost thou not remember, my son, all the cautions I have given thee against persons of her condition, and hast thou so soon forgotten them as to get into their company on the first occasion which presented itself?"

"I represent," said I, "that neither have I forgotten them, nor have I gone into her company. I saw her at the Nuwab's durbar last night, but did not even speak to her."

"Then how knowest thou that she desires to go from hence?"

"I have heard it," said I, "from one who is attached to her, an old woman, who, I doubt not, will be here before the evening."

My father shook his head. "I do not disbelieve thee, my son," said he; "but I mistrust thy young heart and hot temper; it is a danger too great to be encountered; for once with us, and she would get thee into her toils, and then father, duty, and profession will be alike forgotten, and I should lose thee, my son, which would kill me."

"Do not think so, I pray, my father," said I; "there is not the danger you anticipate; she would follow us, and we should see but little of her, except we desired her presence to sing to us on the dreary evenings of our journey. And grant me this request, I pray you; 'tis the only one I have ever asked, and perhaps I deserve something for what I have done hitherto."

"Thou dost indeed," he replied; "anything else would have been gladly granted without a demur on my part; however, I have confidence in thee, my son, and therefore have it as thou wilt, I will not gainsay thee in the matter." So far, therefore, there was no objection; yet my heart smote me as I thought on the concealment I had made of her being in the pay and service of the Nuwab, and that her connection with him might bring us all into trouble. "However," thought I, "women have sharp wits; and if she truly desires to get away from him, she will take her own measures."

As soon as I could, therefore, I set off to the bazar; and, after loitering along the row of shops, and purchasing articles that were really required by us, I ascended the steps which led to the chowree, and was soon in conversation with the Kotwal, who entertained me with the gossip of the town, and did not fail to endeavour to impress me with a high sense of his power and influence. More than once I was on the point of confiding to him my plan, and offering him a bribe to assist me; but I checked myself on the consideration that he might take my money, and afterwards play me false. As it happened, however, I was not long in suspense, for I saw the old woman in the bazar beneath me, making the best of her way in the direction of the gate of the town by which I had entered; so I took my leave of the worthy Kotwal, begging him to come to the camp in the evening for a reward for his civility and exertions. I had, however, lost sight of the old woman before I got fairly down into the street; and following the direction she had taken, overtook her just beyond the gate.

"Mother," said I, "am I he whom you seek?"

"Ai mere jan! (ah, my soul!) have I at last found thee, my prince? Surely I have not ceased in my endeavours since last night to meet thee; I saw thee enter the palace, but my old limbs would not carry me quick enough to overtake thee." And she threw her hands over my head, and cracked every joint of her fingers by pressing them against my temples.

"Are we secure against observation here?" she continued, "for I have much to say to thee, and that quickly."

"Not here," I replied; "I will go on to our tents yonder, and you can follow me; I will wait for you near them." The old woman hobbled up to me as I stood under a mango tree, secure from observation. Quite out of breath, she sat down: when she had recovered herself, she untied a corner of the cloth about her person, and presented me with a small ring.

"This," said she, "is from her you know of: and for the love of Alla, my soul! do you exert yourself for her: she is dying in this place, and is subject to all the torments the caprice of that unblest Nuwab can think of. She is one day in favour and loaded with kindnesses, another, in a fit of jealousy or rage, he deprives her of every comfort, shuts her up in a lonely room, and will not even allow me to go to her. You, my son, are young and brave; you will not suffer her to continue in this state, she who is the pearl of Hyderabad, who has found favour in the sight of princes and nobles. For the sake of Alla, exert yourself, and she is free, and will accompany you to the end of the world. She has seen you, and your beauty has entered into her soul and is consuming her liver; and between this and her former miseries, she is to-day in a state of madness, so that even I cannot pacify her."

"I am ready, mother," said I: "'tis true I have never been blessed with hearing a word from her, save in her songs: but I can understand them; and there was one she sang which has been ringing in my ears ever since I heard it. Say, had it any reference to me and herself?"

"You have guessed well," she replied: "I told her to sing it, in the chance of its being understood, and blessed be Alla it was not in vain: but the time is passing fast, my son, and what can be done?"

"Nay," said I, "that I wish to hear from yourself, for I know not how to proceed; neither do I know this town, nor the house where she lives, so what can I advise? I am helpless in this matter, yet willing to the utmost."

"Listen then," said the old woman; "I will describe the place, and you must come after me and see it from the outside, that you may know it in the night. The place she is now in, and where she will most likely sleep to-night, is a small tiled house, at the corner of the wall of the zenana toward the street. There are two windows, some distance from the ground, yet not so high but that she might get out, if any one helped her on the outside. There is no other way of her escaping; for it would be impossible for her to get through the zenana, and afterwards through the open courts, which are full of soldiers. Say, will you dare the adventure; or be a coward, a namurd, who would not risk a drop of blood for a woman, and one so fair as she is?"

"I am no coward, I believe," said I, "though I have no deeds of arms to boast of. I accept the risk, and I pray Alla to defend us! Are there soldiers near the place?"

"No," said she, "not one; the only danger is at the village gate, which is always guarded. How will you pass this?"

"If that is all," said I, "trust to me; and Inshalla! we will all laugh at the Nuwab's beard in the morning. But tell me, how do you intend to contrive to accompany us?"

"Ah, I have arranged that already. I am allowed free egress at any hour of the night, upon the various pretences or necessities of my mistress; and I can get out at midnight and meet you anywhere you may determine."

"This is good," said I; "now come and show me the place."

She guided me through the gate we had just passed, and turning down a narrow alley, desired me to mark the various windings as we went along, which I did. We at last reached a street between two high walls, one of which was the Nuwab's zenana; and passing on, we arrived at length under a small tiled house, which answered the description she had given of it. "This is the place," she said; "and that is the window from whence she must descend. It is not very high, as you see, and there will not be much difficulty in her getting out."

"I see none," I replied, "if she has only a stout heart. Tell her to tie her sheets together and drop them over; we will be below, and take care she reaches the ground easily."

"I will," said she; "and now away! we may be seen, and if so, Alla be our help!"

"She sees us!" cried I; "for there is a hand stretched forth from the window."

"It is she!" said the old woman; "and oh! what joy it must be to her to know that there are persons anxious and willing to serve her! Now, my poor bird, thou shalt no longer have a cage, though it be a gilded one. But away, my soul, away! do not loiter here; a smile from her were dearly purchased now, and to-night you will have thousands, aye with her blessings too."

"I go," said I; "but fail not, nurse; for your life see that all is right; you must meet us at the corner we last passed."

The old woman nodded her assent, and I withdrew as quickly as possible from the spot, though I would have given worlds for one glance, for one approving smile, from the object of my love. As soon as I reached the tents, I summoned Bhudrinath, told him of my success, and unfolded to him the plan as it stood at present. He was rejoiced, and saw nothing objectionable in it.

"I have one thing, however," said he, "to represent, which you may do or not, as you please."

"What is it? say on."

"Why," he replied, "although it will be, as you say, an easy enough matter to get out of the town, I by no means think it so easy to get in."

"By Alla! you say truly," said I; "what advice can you give to aid my plan?"

"You see," rejoined he, "that the gates are guarded; I tried myself to get in last night, before midnight, as I had an affair of my own to look after, and the fair one expected me; but the sons of dogs at the gates (may their sisters be defiled!) swore I was a thief, and after interchanging abuse for a long time they finally shut the wicket in my face, and I was forced to return in the worst of all possible humours. So my advice is, that we go in before nightfall, and take up our quarters in the shop of a Bhutteara with whom I have scraped an acquaintance; the fellow will not suspect anything if we leave his place in the night, as I hinted my bad fortune of last night to him to-day, and he was the one to propose my coming to his place in the evening to go wherever I pleased afterwards. So what say you? shall we go to the fellow, or trust to our wits to get in the best way we can?"

"Your plan is a good one," said I, "and I thank you for your bad luck last night; but for it, we might have gone and knocked our heads against the gate to no purpose; to be sure we might climb over the wall, and I wonder you did not think of it."

"I did," he replied, "and was undecided about attempting it; but some fellow might have seen me, and, taking me for a thief, have thought no more of sending a ball through me than if I were a dog; so I came away."

"Thou hast a wonderful deal of discretion," said I; "now my hot blood would have led me into some scrape, whereas thou hast eaten thy ill-humour."

"And am now at thy service," rejoined he. "So we sleep inside to-night, which I am glad of, and we will get out through the further gate; it will be some way round, but that is better than facing the fellows at this gate, who I suspect know me, or will recognise my voice, for I was too angry to disguise it."

"We will," said I: "and now I must in and eat, for I have fasted since the morning, and an enterprise is ill done on an empty stomach."

After evening prayer Bhudrinath and myself went into the town; and it was well we did so, for the men at the gate knew him perfectly, and good-naturedly joked him about his bad success the night before. "Thou art beforehand with us to-night, my friend," said one fellow; "and thou art wise, for hadst thou come later we should have shut the door in thy face as before."

"You might have been more civil," said Bhudrinath, laughing. "I suppose, though you would not let me in, you will let me out in case I should bring any one with me?"

"Why, that is not against orders exactly, but you would have to pay toll; so, if you have not brought money with you, you had better stay where you are."

"I may find some probably," said Bhudrinath to the speaker, "enough at any rate to fill your hookahs for some days, if there is occasion."

"Agreed," said all the fellows; "a bargain, by Alla! a few rupees, and you may take any one you please, the Nuwab's harem too to boot, though there is not much in it by all accounts."

"Who is your wughyra, your officer?" said I; and one of the men stepped out. "I am he, may it please your nobility, and I can wink at an honest fellow's doings as well as another."

"Provided you are paid for it," said I.

"Of course," said he, laughing; "we are lucky when chance throws gentlemen like you in our way."

"Here then," said I, "are five rupees, to entertain yourselves with; and see that you don't get drunk, or the blame will fall on us."

"May your condescension increase!" cried the whole; "we are your worship's devoted servants."

"Now how do you mean to get out?" asked Bhudrinath as we passed on.

"Not this way," said I, "if I can help it, for there will be a disturbance about the matter; and if we go out here it will give a clue to our discovery. We will try the other gate first."

"I will lay a wager they are all drunk in an hour," said he, "and we may then open the gate for ourselves; but here is the Bhutteara's shop, and those kabobs smell very savoury; I sometimes wish I was not a Brahmin, that I might eat them as you do."

"Ah," said I, "it is well for you to say that; but perhaps they may have proved too tempting at some time or other."

"By Krishna! I swear you wrong me," cried he; "Brahmin I am, and will be; you know my creed tells me that I have been successively transformed through every grade of suffering humanity, and now that I have reached the top, I am not such a fool as to descend to the bottom and undergo the whole pain over again for the sake of a few kabobs."

"You are right," said I; "nevertheless I will try them; I could not eat when I wished at my tent, but their smell has raised my appetite wonderfully." And in a short time my fingers were pretty deep in a smoking dish of kicheree and kabobs, as hot as pepper could make them.

"Friend Bhutteara," said I when I had done, "surely the Shitan himself must visit your shop now and then, for no other could eat those scraps of meat, except he had a mouth of brass."

"I beg pardon," said the fellow, "but I was away on business, and I suspect my daughter must, as you say, have put too much pepper in them; but I can make my lord a cup of sherbet, a poor imitation of what true believers will drink in Paradise, and it will cool his mouth."

"And a hookah, if you please," said I, "then I shall feel more comfortable."