Four days passed, and the merchant was still in our company. He was slightly attended, and we could have terminated his existence whenever we pleased; but we were anxious to carry him on as much of the journey as we could, and to baffle any traces of our route, by turning to the right and left, away from the regular tracks, and by footpaths and byways only known to ourselves. Yet we had got far enough, and I knew that the next day's march would lead us through a jungle, which was one of our favourite bhils, and where I had from the first determined that he should die.

We were on the road early on the fifth morning, and as before (indeed, as was my wont) I was riding at the head of my party. It was now daylight, but we were entering the jungle, and I was merry in my heart to think that he was in my power, and that a large and valuable booty would be our prize in the course of a short hour, when I saw an animal move in the bushes on my right hand. Another instant, and a hare again crossed my path! I laughed within myself. Fools that they are, thought I, these brethren of mine! no Jemadar but myself would dare to pursue this track after so dire an omen; himself and his whole band would fly, as though a hundred tigers were in their path, and would leave their bunij to escape, or to follow them, as his destiny might guide him. But I!—I laugh at it: once I have proved that the omen is harmless, and shall it deter me now? Ah, no, no! my game is sure, and within my grasp.

And so it was. Sahib, we had not gone a coss, when I saw the place I had determined on; and there the merchant died and his two servants. Yes, he died by my own hand. I pulled him off his pony and strangled him; and the servants were cared for by the others, but not before one of them had cut down one of my men; for in my eagerness to possess myself of the prize before me, I had not seen that the servants of the merchant could observe my actions. The poor fellow who had fallen was dreadfully wounded; yet he still breathed. What to do with him I knew not: we could not wait, and to transport him with us was out of the question.

"What shall we do with Anundee?" said I to Laloo: "we are far from our stage, and we cannot, with our large party, say we have fallen among thieves."

He solved my doubts at once. "Put him out of his pain," said he; "the man is dying: what matters another thrust? he can be buried with the rest. The men might not like it if they saw it, but all here are engaged, and most of the band have gone on. We can wrap him up in his sheet afterwards."

I drew my sword and stepped towards the dying wretch; he looked supplicatingly towards me and strove to speak, but my heart was hard. I was sickened by the deed I had done, and I prayed Alla to forgive me the blood of the miserable creature.

Wretch! said I—interrupting Ameer Ali—and you murdered your own companion, your brother to whom you were sworn?

I did, Sahib, I did; yet why call it murder? He would have died in a short time; I did but rid him of his misery.

It was a foul deed, Ameer Ali; and one that haunts your memory, I doubt not.

Sometimes, was the careless answer of the Thug; and I bade him proceed.

We wrapped the body in the sheet which was around its waist, having taken the money from the waistband. Laloo and myself carried it to the grave, now nearly filled to the top.

"So he is dead!" cried the Lughaees; "he could not have lived long after that cut: the fellow who gave it would have done for more of us had not some of us seized on him; but we have laid him quietly,—he will break no more good men's heads: and as for poor Anundee, he must be buried with the rest, for to burn him is impossible in this lonely place."

And he was buried; they deepened the centre of the pit, put some heavy stones over him, and covered him with earth: and I felt a load taken from my heart as he was covered from my sight for ever. Only Laloo knew what I had done, and I knew him to be faithful and silent: nevertheless I often afterwards wished either that another had done the deed, or that I had let him die.

A rare booty we had, Sahib. After we had eaten the Goor at the next village, we hastened on to the end of the stage; and before we ungirded our loins I opened the caskets and divided the spoil. Not only had the merchant brought the necklace I have mentioned before, but a heap of unstrung pearls; and on reckoning up their probable value, we estimated the amount at twenty-five thousand rupees. Now therefore we had no inducement to tarry away from our homes; we needed no fresh adventure to enrich us, and we pushed on to Jhalone. We reached it in safety, and again I clasped Azima to my heart, and rejoiced to see that my child was well, and with a girl's eagerness looking forward to the time when her marriage ceremony was to take place. My father too was well, and had reached Jhalone without any adventure worth recording, so at least he told me. But of Ganesha there was no news, save that he had diverged to the eastward, and was supposed to have gone in the direction of Benares; and I little cared, except that the revenge for the destruction of the Moonshee's son rankled in my heart and was not forgotten.

Months passed at my home without care, and in peace. Alas! now that I think on it, I can only compare the course of that time to the gentle stream of a river, which, as it winds among peaceful scenes and between green and flowery banks, ruffled only by the soft winds playing over its bosom, is suddenly arrested, dashed among rocks, and its current changed to turmoil and furious contention with its stony opposers. I saw no mark of my future lot, no warning was given to me; destruction came upon me in one fell swoop, and I was overwhelmed—I and mine! But for that stroke of fortune I had lived till now an honest and gentle life, for I abandoned Thuggee; and the more I experienced of the soothing pleasures of my home, the more I became estranged from my habits of wandering, and of plunder and destruction. Nor was the least urgent reason in the meditated change of my life, that I dreaded every day more and more that some unlucky chance would reveal to Azima the dreadful trade I followed. I could paint to myself the effect it would have on her loving and gentle disposition, and the prostration of every faculty of her existence, under the shock of knowing that I was a murderer; and often, as she lay upon my heart in the dead of night, these thoughts have come so thick on me, that could her soul have held any mysterious communion with mine, she would have recoiled in horror from my embrace, and fled from me for ever. And these fancies recurred so frequently and forcibly, that sometimes I almost thought them a warning of coming evil, and I had fully determined to remove my abode and my wealth to Delhi, after my daughter's marriage, there to reside for the remainder of the days which might be allotted to me.

I have said months passed without incident; I should have mentioned that an English gentleman, some time after my arrival, came to Jhalone; and in the many conferences he held in secret with the Rajah, we were given to understand that a treaty of some kind or other had been made, and that he had placed himself under the protection of the English Government. I thought not of it: yet even then a system was working silently yet surely, which, for a time, struck at the power and confederacy of the Thugs a blow as severe, nay more so, as being more lasting, than any they had yet experienced.

The Englishman had left Jhalone some time, and his visit was nearly forgotten by us; my daughter's marriage had begun, and everything was rejoicing in my house. About noon one day one of the Rajah's Hurkaras came with a message that he required my presence and my father's in the Durbar, on particular business. In vain was it that I excused myself on the plea of the marriage ceremony. The messenger would take no excuse; and at last, seeing no alternative, we girded our loins and accompanied the Hurkara.

We were ushered through the various courts to the Dewan Khana, where the Rajah sat in Durbar, surrounded by his Mutsuddees and soldiers. Leaving our shoes at the entrance, we were as usual advancing towards his Guddee to make the customary salutations, when a sudden rush was made upon us from both sides of the hall, and we were at once seized and disarmed. In vain I struggled with my captors, in vain I attempted to shake them off by the most strenuous exertions; it was useless: I was surrounded and overpowered, my turban was torn rudely from my head, and my arms were bound so tightly with it, that I thought the blood would have burst from under my nails. I desisted at last, and remained passive in the hands of the soldiers. My hour is come, and my fate has led me on thus far to desert me at last! thought I; it is the will of Bhowanee and of Alla, why should I resist?

Seeing me quiet, the Rajah addressed me. "Ah, Ameer Ali," said he; "what is this I hear of thee, that thou art a Thug, a common murderer? Can this be true of one who was looked up to in Jhalone as a merchant, and a respectable man? What hast thou to say? Speak, man, and prove if thou canst to me, that the accusations I hear against thee are false."

"Rajah," said I, "I know not who hath poisoned thy mind against me or mine; is there any one in your city who can speak one word against, me? Have I not been fair and honourable in my dealings with all, and with thyself, too? Have not I managed villages and brought them to prosperity from desolation? and can any one, young or old, in this Durbar say that I have ever wronged him, or defrauded him of a fraction? Rajah, none can say this; and therefore, why am I and my old father thus disgraced in the eyes of the city, and torn from our houses in the midst of the rejoicings of marriage?"

"I accuse thee not," said the Rajah; "Bhugwan alone knows whether what I hear is the truth or not; but witnesses are many against thee and the old man; let them speak, and we will afterwards decide in your case. Bring them forth!" cried he to an attendant; "one by one let them give their evidence before these unhappy men: we desire no secrecy in this matter."

There was a moment's pause in the assembly, and every eye—a hundred eyes were upon us. I looked to my father, to see the effect his situation had on him; but I read no hope in the glance he threw on me; his energy had deserted him, and he looked like a convicted felon long before he was so in reality; he returned my anxious and meaning glances by a stare of stupid apathy or extreme fear,—I know not which; and it was pitiable to behold him, for his venerable and respectable appearance but ill assorted with the disgraceful situation he was in. I turned away from him to look at the man who entered, and then I felt that my doom was sealed. I have never mentioned him, but he had been connected with our gang from the first as a Tilhaee, or scout, and had afterwards assisted as a Bhuttote on many occasions. His name was Sooruj; he had accompanied me on all my first expeditions, and had served under my father for some time before I became a Thug; he therefore knew every particular of my career, and until I became a Pindharee described every event with minuteness and fidelity, omitting not one nor adding in any way to those I had been so deeply concerned in. He offered to point out the spots upon which travellers had been destroyed, declared the amount of booty we had gained on many occasions, and ended by denouncing both my father and myself as the greatest leaders in Bundelkhund, as men who could take the field at any time with two hundred followers or more, and as cruel and remorseless Thugs. He dared me to disprove his words, and indeed I quailed under his accusations; for they were true, and truth searches the heart and overwhelms the guilty. But against my father he was the most bitter. "Look on him, Rajah!" cried he; "look on this hoary wretch! one would think that, old as he is, he would have ceased to deprive his fellow-creatures of life; that he would have spent the remainder of his days in propitiating Bhowanee by sacrifices, and his own Prophet by prayers! yet it has not been so. Within the last two months he has returned from an expedition laden with spoil, and the last man he strangled was one of thine own subjects, oh Rajah,—one who was respected and beloved here, and whose bereaved family will rue this day that I have declared his fate in your Durbar."

"One of my subjects!" cried the Rajah; "thou canst not mean it. Speak! and let not fear prevent your disclosing the truth."

"Fear! Rajah, I know it not. If I feared him, that old man, should I have dared to speak as I have done? Listen; you knew Jeswunt Mul, one of the most respectable of the shroffs of Jhalone?"

"Knew him, oh messenger of ill tidings! Jeswunt Mul is not dead?"

"Ask him," said the man hoarsely; "or stay, ask the other man you have here; let him be brought forward, he will tell the tale; I saw it not. But Jeswunt Mul will never speak more, and let those who believe the good man safe at Saugor shave their mustachios and mourn, for he will never more be seen. Yes, he is dead, and that old man looked on while he writhed out his last agony under the roomal of the Bhuttote;" and he pointed at my father, while he regarded him with a look of grim and revengeful pleasure.

There was a general shudder through the assembly, as the deep tones of the informer's voice fell on the ears of those who heard it; and "Jeswunt Mul dead!" was repeated by many in an incredulous tone as they drew into knots and whispered together. Nor was the Rajah himself least struck by the melancholy information. He sat on his musnud in silence, though it could be seen by the working of his features how much he was affected. But he aroused himself at last.

"Thou didst not then see this murder?" said he to the informer.

"I did not, Maha Rajah; but send for Bodhee, he will relate the particulars."

Bodhee! thought I; then there is indeed no hope. Until his name was mentioned, I had a faint idea that the accusation might be a fabricated one; especially as I had heard nothing of the sahoukar's fate from my father: but Bodhee had been with him, and he was the chief of the Lughaees, and it was more than probable that he had dug the grave for the victim.

"Let Bodhee be brought forward," cried the rajah.

He came; his fetters clanked as he moved, and it was not until he had advanced into the midst of the Durbar that he beheld my father and myself bound and as criminals. The sight staggered him, and well it might; he had been trusted by us, raised to the rank he held by my father, and ever treated by him as a son, though he was of a different faith to ours. His face was convulsed by his emotions—they might have been those of a faithful heart struggling against ingratitude; and I looked with a breathless anxiety to the first words which should fall from him. But before he spoke the Rajah addressed him.

"Miserable wretch!" said he, "your life has been spared on the condition that you speak the truth, and reveal, without reservation of a single circumstance, every deed of murder you have been engaged in: this has been promised you by the English, and you have now to prove that you will perform your engagement. If you do perform it, well; if not, though the English are your protectors, I swear to you that you shall be dragged to death by my elephants ere a ghurree of time has passed over you. Bid the elephant be brought!" cried he to an attendant; "and see that the chains are ready. By Gunga! there will be work for him ere long: and now," continued he to the approver, "knowest thou aught of the death of Jeswunt Mul of this town,—he who used to manage my private affairs, or if he indeed be dead? Speak, and remember that truth alone can save you."

There was a breathless silence; my father gazed at the informer with an intense anxiety; it was evident to me that he thought one word from him would seal his fate for ever, or that, should he deny the deed, he would escape. Earnestly, imploringly, he looked at him, and the informer was well nigh overcome; he trembled in every limb, and the big drops of sweat stood out on his face, while the veins of his forehead swelled almost to bursting.

"Speak, Bodhee!" said my father in a hollow voice,—yet still he smiled,—"speak, and tell the rajah that his poor servant Ismail is not guilty of this deed."

"Silence!" exclaimed the Rajah; "gag him if he attempts to utter a word to influence the informer; we will do justice in this matter; and you, Meer Sahib (turning to a respectable-looking person who was seated near him), you shall be able to tell the Sahib-logue that justice can be done in the Durbar of Jhalone. Bring up the elephant," he cried to the attendants; "and do you, Bodhee, look your last on the earth and sky, for by Gunga, I swear, thou art nigh to death if thou deceivest me. I read it in thy face that this matter is known to thee."

But still Bodhee hesitated: there was evidently a struggle within him whether he should die in defence of his old protector, or betray him to save his own life. For a moment the former feeling prevailed; he turned to the Rajah, and said distinctly and firmly, "May I be your sacrifice, Maha Rajah! I know nothing of this matter: of other murders I can tell you, but I know nought of this."

"He lies!" said the other approver; "he was with Ismail Jemadar; he is afraid to speak out, and has lied to you, O Prince."

"You hear him," cried the Rajah to Bodhee; "you hear what your fellow Thug says; yet, much as you have deserved death, I give you a few moments more: the shadow of the verandah is now close on my musnud,—till it reaches it thou shalt live—beyond it, one finger's breadth, and you die!"

There was not an eye in the crowd that was not fixed on the advancing shadow; barely a hand's breadth of light remained, and the Thug gazed on it as though he were fascinated by the eye of a tiger. My father! oh he was fearful to look on; his eyes were glazed—his lips were tightened across his teeth—fear, agony, was depicted in his countenance in stronger lines than I had ever before seen. I could not look on him—his face was altered, and his usual bland expression had been usurped by that I have described. I felt sick, I could have died I thought; and would that I had died, to have been spared what followed.

"Fool!" cried the other approver, "will you sacrifice your life for those who will be instantly put to death?" He spoke in Ramasee.

The words rallied the man to whom he addressed them, and they saved him.

"Pardon, pardon!" he cried; "O, mighty prince, I have told lies. Jeswunt Mul is indeed dead; these hands dug his grave, and bore his yet warm body to it."

"Ai Bhugwan! Ai Seeta-ram!" cried the Rajah, "and is it even so? My poor friend, and art thou dead?" and for a moment or two he wept. "This is womanly," said he, rallying himself. "Proceed, O kumbukht! Let me know all, and what share he had in it."

"We met the Sahoukar at ——," said the Thug. "Ismail well knew that if we were all seen by him he would suspect us, so he sent the greater part of the band out of the village, and prevailed upon Jeswunt Mul to come and sleep in our camp, instead of remaining where he was. He went to the village, and brought him away himself, else he would not have come. The grave was dug long before he arrived; and he had not been an hour with us after the sun had set, when he was strangled in the Jemadar's presence by two Bhuttotes; and his two servants shared the same fate. I buried them all. The Sahoukar's pony we sold the next day for twenty-five rupees; and we got but little else, for he had no money but in hoondees, which we burned."

"Enough, enough," said the Rajah; "this is ample proof."

"Nay, if your greatness requires more proof, I can give you some now," continued the approver. "Look at the Jemadar's hand: he wears on it a ring he took from the body himself, and it may be recognized even by you, Maha Rajah."

My heart sank within me at this new and desperate stroke of fortune. I saw the ring torn from my father's finger. All examined it. A Sahoukar who was in the assembly declared it to have belonged to Jeswunt Mul, and, more than all, his name was engraven on its inner surface.

"Enough!" again cried the Rajah; "I know it myself. I could have sworn to that diamond among a thousand. Away with him! chain him to the elephant; let him be dragged through the town, and proclamation made that he was a Thug."

"Stay," cried the Syud, who had not as yet spoken, "he may have something to urge in his defence. Ask him, and hear him."

"Speak!" cried the Rajah to my miserable father—"speak, O kumbukht!"

And then my father's proud spirit broke out. With the certainty of death before his eyes, he quailed not. While hope remained of life, he had clung to it, as every man will; and when I had expected a grovelling entreaty for his life to be spared, from his previous demeanour, he asked it not, but gloried in the cause for which he died.

"Yes," said he, drawing himself up, while his eye glistened proudly, "I scorn to die with a lie upon my lips. I killed Jeswunt Mul because he was a villain, as you are, Rajah! because he employed Thugs, and would not reward them, but wrung from them every rupee he could, as you do. I have murdered hundreds of men, because they were given into my hands by Alla; but I never destroyed one with the satisfaction I did your friend. Ay, you were friends and brothers in guilt, and you know it. My life! I care not for it. What has an old man to do with life? his enjoyments are gone, his existence is a burthen to him. A short time, and nature would have claimed me. You have anticipated the period. Yet, O Rajah! Bhowanee will question you for this deed—for the destruction of her votary. My blood be on your head, and the curse of a dying man be with you! You have deceived me, robbed me, shared my spoils, taken the produce of murder; nay, be not impatient, you know it is the truth, and that Alla, who is the judge of all, knows it also. He will cast your portion in Jehanum, as a kafir; and Bhowanee will rejoice that the destroyer of her votary writhes in the torments of the damned."

"Gag him! strike the kafir's mouth with a shoe!" roared the Rajah in a fury, more like that of a beast than a man, as he foamed at the mouth. "Away with him! and let his son look on his dying agony."

And they dragged us both forth,—I should not say my father, for his step was firm. I struggled against my tormentors, but it availed me not. "One word, my father!" cried I to him as we were brought near each other. "Wilt thou not speak to thy son?"

He turned his head, and a tear stood in his eye. "I leave thee, Ameer Ali; but thou knowest a believer's Paradise, and the joys which await him—the seventy virgins and everlasting youth. Thou art not my son; but I have loved thee as one, and may Alla keep thee!"

"No more!" cried the rough soldiers, striking him on the mouth, and dragging him forward.

"Revenge me!" exclaimed my father in Ramasee. "Tell the English of that monster's conduct to us; and when he is torn from his seat of pride, my soul will be happy in Paradise."

He spoke no more; I was held forcibly, so that I saw the end of that butchery. They secured him by a chain round his loins to the fore-foot of the elephant, and they tied his hands behind him, so that he could not save himself by clinging to it. He still continued repeating the Kulma; but now all was ready—the Mahout drove his ankoos into the head of the noble beast, which uttering a loud scream, dashed forward. A few steps, and my father's soul must have been in Paradise!