The old man returned my salutations cordially; and when we were fairly seated, and the hookah had passed round, he related the sad history of the parents of the girl he had adopted. His version of the tale differed little from that of my new acquaintance; and indeed the whole affair appeared to have been as successful a piece of Thuggee as I had ever listened to. I wonder who they were, thought I; I will mention the story to my father; perhaps he may have heard of it, and can give me some clue to the boy whose fate is buried in uncertainty. Yet the lad may even now be among us; and as this thought flashed across my mind, a half conviction forced itself upon me that I was the man! But I checked it,—it was a foolish thought, such as one harbours sometimes upon the slightest cause, and dismisses after a moment's reflection.

"And you never heard aught of them afterwards, nor of the boy?" I asked.

"Never," said the old man; "never; years have passed since then, and the lad, if he lives, is about your own age, Meer Sahib; and—Ya Alla!" cried he, gazing on me, as a gust of wind caused the lamp to flare towards me, "those features are familiar to me!—speak, man! thou art not the son of him who was murdered?"

I confess that his earnest gaze and manner, with my previous convictions that the village was familiar to me, almost overpowered me; but I was too old an adept in deceit to be long staggered by a suspicion which he had no means of confirming, and I replied carelessly and with a laugh: "No, no, that cannot be; my father still lives, though my mother is dead; indeed I have but little remembrance of her. Besides we are pure Syuds by descent, and reside in a distant country, and you spoke of your old friend as a Pathan."

"It cannot be then," said the old man, turning away with an air of disappointment; "yet the resemblance is very striking, and I pray you, Meer Sahib, to pardon an old man's mistake; it may be that my eyes are failing me. Yet look at him, my son, and say, does he not resemble her?"

"He does so certainly," replied the other, "and I was struck with the similarity of features, when I first saw him; but it must be imaginary, or it is, perhaps, one of those unaccountable resemblances, which one often sees without being able to discover any cause why it should exist."

"But you spoke of a coin," said I, "which you hold to be possessed of peculiar virtues."

"I did, Meer Sahib, and my father will tell you that I have not overrated its efficacy."

"Nor has he," said the other; "many charms have I seen, but none equal to it: when around the neck of the wearer, no evil comes to her, no disease attacks her, and the eye of the malevolent or envious rests in vain upon her. Assuredly it possesses wonderful virtues, for if it is ever absent from her, she suffers from disease, or is unquiet in mind."

"Alla ke Qoodrut!" I exclaimed; "it is the work of God. Such charms are indeed precious, and lucky is the possessor of them. I had once a son,—he became the victim of an evil glance cast by a Fakeer to whom alms were denied; he cursed my house, and the boy pined and died. I was absent from my home, and you may judge, sirs, of my agony when I arrived and learned my boy was dead. I have never been blessed with another; but a girl still survives, upon whom every care is lavished, and no charm is offered for sale by the wandering Fakeers, Moslem or Hindoo, but it is eagerly purchased, and hung around her neck. In this manner I have spent much money, but as yet without effect; for my child is delicate, and afflicted with dreams which disturb her rest and disquiet her gentle spirit; and I would to Alla I could become the possessor of some charm similar to the one you mention."

"Keep a stout heart, Meer Sahib," said the old man; "you have bought your experience with sorrow, to be sure, yet a constant attention to the wants of the holy wanderers will no doubt have its effect in the end, and their prayers will be offered for the health of your child and her long life."

"May Alla listen to them;" said I fervently, for my heart was then with my child and my loved wife. I arose to take my leave, and as my new friend insisted on accompanying me to our camp, we walked thither.

"You will be ready, then, at the first dawn," observed I; "we travel early for the sake of the cool morning air, and my companions bestir themselves as soon as the first blush of light spreads over the east."

"Depend on me," said he, "I will not keep you waiting: we have a long stage before us."

He left me. I will have the charm, thought I, as I lay down to rest; my child shall be protected by its extraordinary virtue, and there will be an end of the constant searchings for amulets, which do no good, and cost much money: besides, I could not bring Azima a gift she would prize more highly, better far in her eyes than strings of pearls or costly jewels. Thus musing, my thoughts wandered to my home: my treasures were before me in imagination, and I compared this my wild and exciting life with the peaceful moments I enjoyed when I was there with them—Azima lying beside me, and our child amusing us with her innocent gambols. The contrast was forcible, and appealed to my best feelings.

I fell asleep; nor did I awake until the bustle of preparation for the journey warned me that it was time to rise. Having performed my ablutions, I repeated the morning prayer and thanksgiving, and issuing from my little tent, I saw the band was in readiness to move on; but my new acquaintance and his family were as yet not with us.

"Shall we move on?" asked Laloo,—who was now my confidant, being the second of the Bhuttotes,—as I stood near my horse, prepared to mount.

"Not yet," said I; "I expect some bunij from the village; they promised not to be late, yet the day advances. Send some one to hurry them."

"Ay, our friends of last night, I suppose, Meer Sahib. Of course we will wait for them, and I will send a fellow to quicken them: know you how many there will be to deal with?"

"Not I," I replied; "there are a man and his wife, but how many more I know not. We shall soon see, however."

Our messenger returned almost immediately. "They come," said he; "I had not reached the village gate when I saw them issue forth."

"And how many are there?" I asked.

"There are two women on ponies, one old one on foot, and three men armed with sword and matchlock."

"Six in all," said I; "do you Laloo tell off the Bhuttotes: if we find a good place to-day I will give the jhirnee; if not, the business can be done to-morrow."

"True, Meer Sahib," he replied; "but we had better put it off to-day. To tell you the truth, there was an objectionable omen this morning, and you know there is no need of risking anything."

"Certainly not; we can send on the BÉlhas to-night, and things are best done which are conducted regularly."

The village party now approached us, and salutations were exchanged; we stayed not, but pushed on at as rapid a pace as allowed the villagers to keep up with us; and we travelled thus to the end of the stage. I saw no likely place for the deed on our way, for the country was thickly peopled and the villages were close to each other. But I heard with inward satisfaction from my acquaintance, that the next march was through a lonely tract, and I was urged by him to be on the alert and careful, for that robbers were plentiful, and we might be attacked.

They rested in our camp that day and night. I watched eagerly to see, if it were possible, the face of the woman who bore the prize I so eagerly coveted, but I could not discern it, she was strictly secluded, or if she moved out of the temporary screen her husband had erected, she was enveloped in a thick wrapper, which defied my utmost attempts to discover her countenance. But she was mine, and I gloried in the thought that ere another day should pass over me, she would have fallen under my hand, and the charm would be mine also. You, Sahib, will perhaps wonder at my eagerness to possess it; but you know us not, if you do. What mother is there in Hindostan, ay, or father, who does not covet a potent charm against the evil eye for his child or for his wife, far more than riches, nay the commonest necessaries or comforts of life? A child falls sick, the glance of some of one is declared to have rested on it, ceremonies are performed without number, pepper is burned, mustard-seed placed in the room, and other things done which you would laugh at were I to relate them all; and hence comes the necessity of charms. Holy men are besought to give them, and are paid for them highly: Fakeers are implored to pronounce mystic words over the suffering infant; and women will sell anything they possess, even their jewels, to purchase an amulet which is said to be efficacious. Sahib, I had lost one child; another, my sole offspring, was constantly ailing, and we were tormented by a thousand miserable anticipations regarding her. Within my reach was a sovereign remedy for all, so at least I firmly believed. Can you wonder at my eagerness, my impatience to possess it?

Laloo came to me, and with him the chief of the BÉlhas. "We are to go on, I suppose, as soon as we can?" said the latter.

"Certainly," replied I; "I hear the road lies through a lonely tract, which commences a few coss from here. See that you choose a good place, and that the grave will hold six bodies."

"Jo hookum!" rejoined the fellow; "but I hope the information is correct about the road, and that it is not like the last stage, cultivated ground from first to last. I would have defied the best Belha that ever drew breath to have selected a spot free from a chance of interruption."

"Rest content," said I; "the information is good, I had it from our fellow-travellers, who have passed that way a hundred times."

"Then I will start by sunset," continued he; "I suppose the nearer to this the place is selected, consistently with security, the better."

"Certainly," said I. "Go; you have your leave."

Midnight soon arrived: we had arisen, and had proceeded about three coss on our way; we had passed every village, and entered on the desolate tract I have mentioned. The hot night wind still sighed over the waste, and through the thorny bushes by which it was thinly covered. No sound broke the silence, save a shrill neigh from one of our baggage-ponies at intervals, or the wild and melancholy note of the plover, as it piped its song to its mate, and was answered again from afar. Once or twice the half shriek, half howl of a hyÆna might be heard, and so like was the cry to that of a wretch under the knife of an assassin, that my blood curdled in my veins as the sound thrilled through me. I rode on, first of the party, eagerly looking for the Belha, who should give the welcome intelligence that the grave was ready, and that we were secure from interruption; nor had I long to wait for this. At a turning in the road I saw the trusty messenger seated; and as he espied me and arose, I hastened to meet him.

"Bhil manjeh?" I asked in our slang language.

"Manjeh," was the reply: "'tis ready, Meer Sahib."

"And how far, Gopal?"

"Scarcely a cannon-shot from hence, a dry nulla with a sandy bed crosses the road; and a tributary streamlet's course, between high and narrow banks, was the best place we could find."

"Good," said I, "you are always careful; now keep near me, and hold my horse when I dismount: I have a share in this affair which I would not trust to another."

I slackened my horse's pace, and the party soon overtook me. I stopped as they came up, and dismounted. "A plague on these roads of yours, Khan," said I to my acquaintance; "my horse has lost a shoe, and his foot is somewhat tender; so I will walk a coss or two to ease him of my weight. Surely there cannot be much more of this stony track."

"Not much; a coss or two perhaps: we ought to be near a dry nulla, if I am not mistaken, and from thence the next village is a coss and a half; after that the road is good."

"Let the Meer Sahib ride on my tattoo," said a voice like music; "I am cramped and stiff, and I shall be glad to walk awhile." It was that of my victim! she who was to die under my hand ere a quarter of an hour elapsed. She must be beautiful with that voice, thought I; but I shall see.

"No, no, Khan," said I, "that must not be; I am soldier enough to walk when I have no horse. Mashalla! my limbs are strong and supple, and I would not mind trying you at a long stage."

"As you will, Meer Sahib, but you have only to say the word, and she dismounts. Alla knows 'tis a small recompense for your safe protection over this dreary tract, which never man yet passed but with fear and apprehension. The nulla too, we shall reach it soon—they say many a brave fellow's blood has moistened its sand."

I saw the woman shudder at her husband's speech, and I checked him. "Shame on you, Khan!" said I; "think who hears you: women's ears are not fitted to listen to tales of blood, save when they are of a battle-field, and of scenes in which honour is gained and fame won at the sword's point. Here you are safe; no rascally Dacoo would dare to meddle with a kafila like ours, and we shall pass the nulla, as we have those behind us, without a thought of its dangers or what has ever happened in it. But what was that?" I eagerly asked, as something crossed our path close to my feet.

"Nothing but a hare," said the Khan; "some prowling jackal has scared her from her form, and she seeks another hiding-place."

"A hare!" I repeated, the current of my blood seeming to be suddenly arrested, as I thought on the fearful omen to a Thug,—one that could not be disregarded, or, if disregarded, was certain to be followed by the most dire calamities, nothing less than death or long imprisonment.

"Yes, Meer Sahib, a hare. Why should it astonish you?"

"But across my very path," I muttered involuntarily.

"'Twas chance," said the man; "what of it?"

"Nothing," replied I; "nothing,—we have an old superstition about it in my country, but 'tis an old woman's tale, I dare say."

I paced on in silence. Ya Alla! what a conflict was raging in my heart! I have told you I disregarded omens: I cared not for them, only as they were the soul of Thuggee as far as my men were concerned; and to humour them I feigned to be particular in their observance. But my soul quailed when I was put to the proof. Every tale I had heard of the vengeance of Bhowanee at a conscious neglect of her commands and omens flashed in rapid succession across my mind,—how one had died, eaten by worms; another been overtaken by what the world called justice; how another had lost his wife or children,—and I too had yet a child! I say I quailed in mental terror for awhile; but mine was a stout heart, a noble spirit; and it roused at my call, like that of a good steed, which worn and weary with travel, yet at the approach of strife or danger bears his master as gallantly as though he were fresh from his stall. Yes, my soul rallied. Away with such idle tales, fit only to be bugbears to children, said I mentally; Ameer Ali is not to be frightened by them. And to lose the charm,—the object of my anxiety, when almost within my grasp! I laughed aloud.

"You are merry, Meer Sahib," cried Laloo, who I saw was at his place; "tell us your thoughts, that we may laugh too; and by Alla! we need it, for a more unsainted country I never saw."

"'Twas but a thought," said I. "Know you where my hookah is?"

"I do not," he replied, "but I will call for it." And the word was passed by those who followed us for it to be brought.

This was the preparatory signal. Every one heard it and took his post. The place could not be far, and with my last words had passed away every chance of life to our companions. Nor was it far off; a few moments' walking brought us to the brink of the nulla. I first descended into it, and disengaged my roomal. I was ready; one by one the others followed me, and we were now in the middle of the dry and sandy bed, mingled together, the victims and their destroyers. I saw the time was come, and I gave the jhirnee.

They fell,—ay all! and almost at the same time. There was no sound, no cry, all that I heard was a faint gurgling noise from the husband of the woman, who had writhed in her death-agony under my fatal grip; a few convulsive throes and she was dead! I tore away the bodice which covered her bosom; I thrust my hands into it, and groped upon the still warm breast for the prize I had so earnestly longed for. I found it tied to a silk cord,—which defied my utmost efforts to break; but I unsheathed my dagger and cut it, and I hugged the treasure to my heart in a frenzy of exultation. One look at the face, thought I, and the Lughaees may do their work; and I gazed on it. It was beautiful, very beautiful; but the expression and the eyes—, Sahib! why did I look at it? I might have spared myself years of torment had I not done so. That face, of all that I have ever seen in death, haunts me still, and will ever haunt me, sleeping or waking.

Not that it had any particular effect on me then. No, it was afterwards, as you shall hear, and when I had discovered what I had done. Yes, she was beautiful, fair as my own Azima, as delicate and faultless in form. The Lughaees shall not behold these beauties, thought I, nor could I listen to their coarse remarks; so I covered up the bosom, folded the body decently in the sheet which had been around her, and sat down by it to await their coming.

"How, Jemadar Sahib!" said Gopal, as he came up to me, "have you not stripped the body? But let me do so; yonder sheet is worth two rupees."

"Let it alone!" cried I; "touch her not; she is too fair for the like of you to look on. And hark ye, my friend, let her be buried as you see her now. Whatever the others may say, tell them that it is my order; and for your own share, you shall have a new sheet when we reach Jhalone."

"Jo hookum," said the man, "you shall be obeyed. But have you searched for jewels?"

"I have; she had none. Away with her, and see that I am obeyed. Yet stay, I will accompany you."

I went with him. The grave was where they had described it, between the high and narrow banks of a small watercourse; it was deep, and already contained some bodies. I saw that of the fair girl laid carefully down over them, and I prevented their mutilating it with their knives as they had done the others. I waited till all had been finished, and the grave covered in; and collecting my scattered party we pursued our journey. It was well we had been so expeditious, for scarcely half a coss from the spot we met a large party of travellers, who, confident in their numbers, had pushed on by night as we had done. Short greetings were exchanged between us, a few inquiries as to the road, whether water was to be had, and where, and we passed on.

Our booty was small enough, as you may conceive,—about forty rupees, a few changes of raiment, the tattoo of the deceased, and the few and simple ornaments of the women, worth perhaps a hundred rupees, were all we got. But I had the real prize, worth in my eyes thousands of rupees. No one knew I had it, and I kept it hung round my own neck, and close to my heart. A thousand times I took it out and gazed at it; there was something about it which had a mysterious effect on me,—many times I thought I had seen it before, and I fancied its old and battered surface was familiar to me. But my mind gave me no clue to the idea, and I attributed the effect I have described to the influence of the charm itself, and I was assured of its potency. How Azima will prize it! thought I. In itself valueless, yet a treasure in her eyes and mine, for it will protect our child, and many an envious eye is upon her.

We were still far from Jhalone, and the season admitted of farther wanderings; but I was sated. Strange to say, I no longer thirsted for adventure; and though it came, and men were delivered into our hands, yet I sought not for them. Those we destroyed were casual travellers who joined our party, and whose destruction was unavoidable.

We held a general deliberation at a village on the confines of Malwa; and though some were for travelling northward as far as Agra, and thence to Jhalone, I overruled this, and, indeed, had the majority on my side, who were satisfied with what we had got, and longed for their homes as I did. "However, my friends," said I, "our proceeding homewards need not bring us worse booty than we should get by going north. Roads are roads, and travellers will surely be on them wherever we go. Let us not relax in our vigilance, and do you trust in the lucky fortune of Ameer Ali. Victory has always followed him, and his star is still high in the ascendant. Above all, let us consult the omens, and by them be guided; if it is our fate soon to see our homes, they will determine our actions and proceedings."

My speech was received with plaudits; the omens were consulted; and though none remarkable were observed, yet, in the opinion of the best-informed Thugs, we were justified in holding our present direction, till it should be changed either by meeting with new adventures or adverse omens. Accordingly we pursued our route.

I forget how many days it was afterwards, but we were encamped at Tearee, a large town in Bundelkhund, and had been there two days in the hope of bunij. We had been unlucky in not meeting with any till then; but our Tilhaees were actively employed, and I was determined not to quit the town without an adventure, as it was the last place on the road to Jhalone where we could hope to meet with any of consequence. The Sothas and Tilhaees, however, returned in the afternoon with downcast faces, declaring they could meet with no one, except miserable creatures hardly worth the trouble of destroying; and all were for moving off the next morning.

I was piqued at our ill luck, I know not why. "Stay, however," said I to them all, "for the morrow; something tells me it will be a lucky day, and one is not of much consequence." My will was of course law to them, and early the next day I dressed myself in my best clothes, armed myself with my most showy weapons, and taking some of the Thugs with me, as it were a personal escort, I rode into the town, causing my horse to caracole as I went, in order to show off my admirable horsemanship. Twice did I ride up and down the bazar and the principal streets, but without meeting with any hope of adventure or bunij. At last, observing three respectable-looking Mahomedans seated on a chubootra, or terrace, under the shade of a large peepul-tree, I rode up to them, and inquired whether they could direct me to the abode of any dealer in pearls or precious stones, as I wished to purchase some.

"Are you in earnest?" said the oldest of the three; "or do you merely ask to find out whether our poor town would afford you such precious commodities?"

"God forbid, sirs," said I, "that one so young as I am should dare to endeavour to jest with men of your age and respectable appearance. I do indeed seek what I have said, and shall rejoice if any of you can direct my steps, for here I am a stranger."

"Since such is the case," replied the old gentleman, "I am happy in being able, even at this moment, to present you to Shekh Nusr-oo-deen, who sits here beside me, and who follows the respectable calling you are in search of. But you had better dismount, and, if such is your pleasure, join our Mujlis for as long as you feel inclined. My worthy friend will then, I doubt not, be happy to accompany you to his abode, and show you the articles you require."

"You are kind," said I, "and I accept of your civil invitation." So saying, I dismounted, and ascended by a few steps to where they were sitting. A few moments were occupied in the ceremonies of being seated. My new acquaintance called for a hookah and sherbet, and in a few moments we were on excellent terms.

"And what may be your distinguished name?" said the elder of the three, who had first accosted me. I named myself,—"A poor Syud," said I; "an unworthy descendant of our Prophet,—on whose name be peace!"

"Mashalla! I told you so," cried the old man. "Mashalla! there is no mistaking the noble race;—and his speech too! How say ye, my friends, is it not sweet and mellifluous, like a verse of Hafiz?"

"Ameen! Ameen!" cried both, "'tis even so; the young Syud is a worthy representative of his tribe, and we are fortunate in having made his acquaintance."

"You overpower me, worthy sirs," said I; "I little merit these encomiums; for having spent all my days in camps and in strife, I have learned few of those courtesies which ought to adorn the manners of every true believer."

"You have served then with Sindia?" asked the pearl-merchant.

"No," said I, "not in his armies, though there has been tough fighting enough to be seen with them. I have served in the Dukhun; and, I am proud to say, under the banners of Salabut Khan of Ellichpoor."

"A good name," cried all; "the noble Khan too has won it bravely, though not on our side in the late contests."

"It matters not," said I; "wherever a blow was to be struck, or there was hope of a fight or a foray, Salabut Khan was ever first in the fray, and the last to leave it."

"And your destination, Syud?" asked the pearl-merchant.

"Jhalone," I replied. "Salabut Khan has reduced his force; and there being no longer hope of employment for a cavalier like myself, I returned home to my father, and have taken quiet service with the Rajah,—whom Alla preserve! for he is as generous a prince as any of Hindostan; and on his behalf I have recently been on a mission to the durbar of Doulut Rao, on some matters which have been in dispute between them. I am proud, too, to say, that all has been quietly settled."

"Soobhan Alla!" cried the third worthy; "how could it be otherwise, since our honoured guest has managed the negotiation?"

Again I bowed my head to the earth, and acknowledged the compliment. Some desultory conversation followed, and I rose to depart. "My time is precious," said I, "and I implore you to excuse me. I have much to arrange about the men who accompany me, and I go on to the chowree to settle their accounts with the kotwal: if the worthy Shekh will allow one of his attendants to point out his abode, I will notice it, and visit him ere sunset."

"Nay, Meer Sahib, this cannot be," replied the Shekh: "behold I am ready, I will accompany you; my poor house is not far off, and Alla forbid I should be the means of trespassing upon your time." He arose, girded up his loins, threw his shawl over his shoulders, and thrusting his feet into his slippers, prepared to accompany me.

"I take my leave then, worthy sirs," said I to the others; "may health be with you!"

"Not without the pan and utr, Meer Sahib," said the elder; "it cannot be, that we should let you go like a dog." And calling to an attendant, the articles were brought. The pan was presented to me; I was duly anointed on my beard and under my arms, and after a few more salams and compliments, I was following my new acquaintance the pearl merchant.

"Is he to be bunij?" whispered one of my attendant Thugs to me in Ramasee, as I passed him.

"Hush!" said I, "speak not a word; but run all of ye before us and clear the way, as if I were a great man."

They obeyed me and ran forward, shouting and pushing the crowd to and fro, as though I had been a nobleman of fifty descents and a hundred titles.

We soon reached the house of the merchant; and leaving our slippers at the door, he took me by the hand and led me at once into the private apartment, where I suppose he transacted his business or received his best customers. It was a dahlan, or verandah, opening into a court, in the centre of which was a small fountain; its edges were planted with red poppies and larkspur, in various figures; and a plantain tree or two flung their broad green leaves over all. The place looked cool, and was scrupulously neat and clean. The room where we sat had been newly whitewashed, and its floor covered with a white cloth, except the musnud itself, which was of yellow cloth, bordered with blue velvet; a few large luxurious-looking pillows invited me to recline, and forget the world and its cares. Such shall be my own home, thought I, after awhile; a fountain is easily made, and I will enjoy my peace and quiet even as this worthy does. I had seen a hundred such, but the unobtrusive neatness and comfort of the spot struck me forcibly; and whilst envying the possessor his peaceful lot, I was inwardly forming a plan to decoy him with me, which I had leisure to mature, for he had left me seated, and was for some time absent.