We travelled from village to village for four days, meeting with no adventure, and in truth I was beginning to be weary of the delay and inactivity, when, on the fifth morning, one of the men we had left behind to bring information arrived.

"Peer Khan, Sahib, sends his salam," said he, "and requests you will return immediately, as the bunij has been secured, and is about to leave the city."

"Know you aught of who he is?"

"No, I do not, Meer Sahib. I lived at the Bhutteara's, and he and the Jemadar were often in earnest conversation about him, but I was not let into the secret."

"'Tis well," I replied; "refresh yourself, and be ready to accompany us. How far are we from Saugor?"

"By the way I came, about fourteen coss," said he, "but by a path which I know, the city is not more than half the distance."

"Then we may be there by evening?"

"Certainly; by noon if you please—and I will conduct you now."

Accordingly, guided by him through a wild track which I should never have found alone, we reached Saugor towards evening, and after occupying our former ground, I hurried to the Bhutteara's, where I was pretty sure of meeting my friends. Peer Khan was there, and welcomed me. "I was fearful the messenger would miss you," said he; "but, praise to Alla, you are come."

"And this is our worthy ally, I suppose?" said I, making a salutation to the Bhutteara.

"The same," he answered; "your poor slave Peroo is always happy when he can serve his good friends."

"I have not forgotten what you are to get, my friend," said I, "and you may depend on the word of a true Thug for it. Are we sure of the man?"

"As sure," said Peer Khan, "as of those who have hitherto fallen; to-morrow he will take his last look on Saugor."

"Ul-humd-ul-illa!" I exclaimed; "so much the better. And he will be a good bunij, you think?"

"He will be worth seven or eight thousand good rupees to you," said the Bhutteara; "and all nugd (ready money) too."

"Good again, friend; but why do you not take to the road? You are a likely fellow enough."

"Oh, I have tried it already," said he, laughing; "I was out on two expeditions with Ganesha Jemadar. Do you know him?"

"I have heard of him," I replied; "he is a leader of note."

"He is," said the Bhutteara; "but he is a cruel dog; and to tell the truth—I fear you will think me a coward for it—I did not like the way he treated the poor people he fell in with; so I quitted active work, and only do a little business as you see now, by which I pick up a trifle now and then."

"Well," said I, "you do good, it appears; but beware how you act, and see that you do not bully poor Thugs out of their money by threatening to denounce them." The fellow winced a little at my observation, but recovering himself, stoutly protested he had never been guilty of so base an act.

Peer Khan threw me a sly look, as much as to say, you have hit the right nail on the head; but I did not press the matter further, for we were completely in his power. "Then," said I, "we start in the morning I suppose?"

"Do so," replied the man; "the Sahoukar goes to Jubbulpoor. It would be as well not to show yourselves for some days, as he might take the alarm, and some people of note have disappeared of late on the road."

"Now," said I to Peer Khan, "we have no further business here, and I am tired; let us go to the camp. We can send two scouts to remain here, to give us intelligence of the Sahoukar's departure, if necessary." The men were instructed in what they had to do, and we left them and the Bhutteara.

"You probed that rascal deeply by what you said," said Peer Khan as we walked along: "it is the very practice by which he gets his money; the fellow is as rich as a Sahoukar by this means, and never omits to levy a contribution on every gang which passes Saugor."

"Then," said I, "my mind is made up as to his fate. Such a wretch is not fit to live—a cowardly rascal, who sits at his ease, runs no risk, undergoes no fatigue, and yet gets the largest share of any one. He ought to die. What say you to putting him to death?"

"It is a rare plan," replied he; "but how to get him out of the town I know not; he is as wary as a fox."

"Oh," said I, "that is more easily managed than you think. The Kafir is fond of money?"

"As fond as he is of his own miserable existence."

"Then, Peer Khan, we have him. Directly we get to the camp I will send a man with a message, which you shall hear me deliver, and if it does not bring him, call Ameer Ali a father and grandfather of jackasses."

"Good," said he, laughing; "we will see this rare plan of yours; but I tell you the villain is most wary. I never knew him come out except in broad daylight, when there was no danger, and then only to small parties."

"Here, Junglee," said I to a smart young fellow who always attended my person; "you know Peroo, the Bhutteara?"

"Certainly; my lord was with him this afternoon. I know his house, for I was in the bazar purchasing some flour, and saw my lord at the shop."

"Good," said I; "then you will have no need to inquire for it. Now go to the Bhutteara, and take my seal-ring with you: mind you don't let it go out of your hand; tell him, with many compliments from me, that as we are so sure by his kindness of the bunij in prospect, and have some money with us, I will pay him what he asks, if he will come here to receive it. Say that I do so, as our return by this road is uncertain and may be at a distant period, and that I shall have no means of sending him the coin; and add, that I do this favour to him, as I am convinced of his good faith, and have placed implicit reliance in his assertions. Now, can you remember all this? Mind you speak to him in Ramasee,—he understands it."

"Certainly," said the lad; "I know all." And he repeated what I had told him word for word.

"That will do," said I, "and here is the ring: now be off,—run, fly, and let us see how soon you will earn two rupees."

"I am gone, Jemadar Sahib," cried he joyfully. "I will be back instantly."

"That is a sharp lad," said Peer Khan; "he takes one's meaning so readily. But oh, Meer Sahib, Peroo will never come for that message; he is too old a bird to be caught with chaff."

"Depend on it he will; he will hear the tinkling of the silver, and will run to it as ever lover did to his mistress's signal. Besides, he has no chaff in prospect, but rupees, man, rupees. The fellow would run to Delhi for as much."

"We shall see," said Peer Khan. "If it be written in his fate that he is to come, why, Alla help him, come he must, there is no avoiding destiny. What! Peroo the Bhutteara come out of his house at night to visit Thugs! I say the thing is impossible; it has often been tried, and failed utterly; the fellow laughed at them, as well he might."

"For all your doubts, Khan," said I, "Inshalla! we will throw earth on his beard to-night; and as we may as well be ready, call Motee, and two or three Lughaees; the grave must be dug, and that immediately."

Motee came, but was as desponding of success as Peer Khan. "You will never take him," he said; "did not Ganesha offer to divide a large booty here last year, and that Peroo should have a share if he would come to take it? and he sent word that he laughed at our beards, and we had better leave his share in the hollow of an old tree known to us, or he would send the whole police of Saugor after us in the morning."

"And so you left the share?"

"We did, and it was a good one too."

"Then Ganesha was an owl, and I will tell him so if I ever meet him. Peroo should not have had a cowree from me; nor will he now unless he comes to take it."

We were silent for some time, and I could hear the dull blows of the pickaxe, as the sound was borne by the chill night-wind from the place where the grave was preparing. He will come, thought I, and his iniquity will be ended: shame on the cold-blooded coward who can sell men's lives as he does, without striking a blow against them! As I was thus musing, our messenger was seen, in the dusky light, returning at the top of his speed, and alone. "We told you so!" cried both my associates triumphantly; "we told you how it would be!" I was vexed, and bit my lips to conceal my chagrin. "Let us hear what he says, at any rate," said I.

"Well, what news, Junglee?" cried I, as he ran up quite out of breath.

"Wait a moment, Jemadar," said he, "till I can speak: I have run hard."

"Here, drink some water: it will compose you. What has happened. Is there any alarm?"

"Ah, no alarm," replied the lad, "but listen. I went as fast as I could without running, for I thought if I appeared out of breath when I reached him he might suspect something; so when I got to the town gate, I walked slowly till I reached his shop. He was busy frying kabobs for some travellers, and told me to go into his private room and wait for him. In a short time he came to me.

"'Well,' said he, 'what news? Why have you come? The bunij is safe; it was but just now that one of your scouts came and said he had heard orders given for his departure to-morrow. What do you want?'

"So I repeated your message, word for word as you delivered it to me, and he seemed much agitated. He walked up and down the room for some time, talking to himself, and I could hear the words 'Ganesha,' 'treachery,' once or twice repeated. So at last I grew tired of this, and said to him, 'I cannot wait, I have orders to return immediately: will you come or not?' and this stopped him; he turned round and looked at me severely—

"'Tell me,' said he, 'young man, was Motee-ram present when this message was delivered?'

"'No, he was not,' I replied.

"'Did he know it?'

"'No; he had not returned from the town when I received it; at any rate, neither I nor the Jemadar Sahib saw him.'

"'Was Peer Khan present?'

"'No,' said I stoutly, 'he was not.'

"'But he left this place in company with your master.'

"'He may have done so,' said I, 'but I did not see him; I was preparing the Jemadar's bedding when he returned, and the message was delivered to me privately; for after he lay down to rest he called to me and delivered it: and I may as well tell you that he counted out the money from a bag which was under his pillow.'

"'How much was there set apart for me?'

"'Two hundred and fifty rupees; he was counting more, but he stopped short, put the rest into the bag, and said it would be enough.'

"'And how much is in the bag?'

"'Alla maloom!' said I; 'how should I know anything about it?'

"'Who sleep in the tent with the Jemadar?' he asked, after another silence and a few more turns about the room.

"'No one,' said I. 'I sleep across the doorway; but no one is ever allowed to enter.'

"'You are a good lad,' he rejoined, 'and a smart fellow. How should you like to be a bhutteara?'

"'Well enough,' said I; for I wanted to see what he was driving at, and I suspected no good."

"Did you ever hear of such a rascal?" said Peer Khan. "Oh, if we only had him, I would wring the base neck off his shoulders."

"Let him go on," said I; "don't interrupt him."

"Well," continued Junglee, "he paced to and fro again several times, and at last came and sat by me, and took my hand in his. I did not like it, so I laid my other on the hilt of my dagger, which was concealed in my waistband.

"'Junglee,' said he to me, 'thou art a good lad, and may be to me a son if thou wilt aid me in this matter. Young as thou art, this bloody trade can have no charms for thee; besides, I'll warrant your Jemadar does not make a pet of you as I would, and obliges you to work hard?' I nodded.

"'Ay! it is even so,' said he, 'and thou wouldst be free? speak, boy, and fear not; thou shalt be a son to me. Alla help me! I have neither wife nor child.' I nodded again.

"'That is right,' continued he; 'although you are ill used, you do not like to abuse the salt you have eaten, and I like you the better for it. Now listen to me. I will come, but not now. You say you lie at the entrance of the tent—good: you must sleep as sound as if you had taken opium—do you hear? I shall step quietly over you, and I know an old trick of tickling with a straw—do you understand?'

"'I do,' said I; 'you would have the large bag.'

"'Exactly so, my son,' said he, 'you have guessed rightly; trust me, I will have it. As I go away I will touch you; you need not follow me then, but you can watch your opportunity.'

"'But the scouts,' added I; 'you have not thought of them.'

"'Oh, I can easily avoid them; the night is dark and cloudy, and no one will see me; I shall strip myself naked, and throw a black blanket over me.'

"'Then I agree,' said I; 'and I will quit those horrid people and become an honest man. Now what am I to say to the Jemadar?'

"'Say,' replied he, 'that the herdsman's flock has often been robbed by the wolf of its fattest sheep; and the herdsman said to himself, I will catch the wolf and put him to death. And he dug a hole, and suspended a fat lamb over it in a basket, and sat and watched; and the wolf came, and saw from afar off that there was something unusual in the generosity of the herdsman, and he said to himself, Wolf, thou art hungry, but why should one lamb tempt thee? the time will come when thou mayest find the herdsman asleep; so wait, although thy stomach is empty. Say this to the Jemadar and he will understand thee.'"

"By Alla! thou hast done well, Junglee," said I, "and thy faithfulness shall surely be well rewarded. What think you, my friends, of this villain?"

"Ah, we are not astonished," cried both, "it is just like him; but, Inshalla! he will fall into his own snare."

"Now," said I, "call two of the scouts;" and they came. After I had told them of the plot Peeroo had formed. "My friends," I continued, "you must allow this rascal to come into the camp: one of you lie down close to my tent, and pretend to be asleep; but have your eyes open, and directly you see him enter, rouse Peer Khan and Motee, and bring them to the entrance; and do you two then place yourselves one on each side of the door, so that he cannot see you. I shall feign to be asleep, and shall let him take the bag, though he should even fall over me in doing so; as he comes out you can seize him and hold him fast; do him no harm till I come; and as for you, Junglee, if you do not sleep as sound as though a seer of opium was in your stomach, I swear by Alla you shall lie in the same grave with him."

"Do not fear me," said the lad; "I have eaten your salt, you are my father and my mother, you have treated me kindly, and how could I deceive you? had I intended it, I had not mentioned a word of what he told me."

"Then we are all prepared," said I. "Did he say when he would come?"

"He did," said Junglee; "in the second watch of the night, when he had no more business."

"Good; then mind you are all ready, and we will spit on his beard."

Anxiously to me did the hours pass, till the time came when I might expect him. I went out of my little tent repeatedly to see that all were at their proper posts, and returned as often, satisfied that they were. Peer Khan was lying near my tent apparently in a sound sleep, but I knew he was awake; the scouts were wandering lazily about; above all, the night was so dark that I could not see my hand before me, and the splashing and murmuring of the tiny waves of the lake upon the shore would prevent any noise of his footsteps being heard. "Yes," I said, half aloud, as I retired to my carpet for the last time, "he will come; thief as he is, he will not miss such a night as this; but the darkness favours us as much as it does him."

"Now, Junglee," said I, "this is the last time I stir out; mind your watch, my good lad, and I will not forget you; Peer Khan is close at the back of the tent: I care not much about the rest, they will soon be collected when he is caught."

"Do not fear me," said the boy; "my eyes are not heavy with sleep, and when I move from this spot to call Peer Khan, a rat will not hear me."

I went in and lay down; I drew my trusty blade and laid it close to my right hand, so that I could grasp it in a moment; and covering myself up with my quilt, as well to hide it as to assure me when he came (for I knew he would endeavour to pull it off me), I continued to stare steadfastly on the entrance of the tent; and my eyes becoming sensible of the greater darkness of the inside than of the outside, I was certain that if any one entered, or even passed the door, I should see him. Long, long did I lie in this position; I hardly stirred, lest Peeroo should be outside listening whether I was awake. It was now, I guessed, considerably past midnight; still no one came, and I should have been inclined to despair, did I not feel certain that his fate would lead him to destruction. Why is it, Sahib, that one has these presentiments? I have often felt them during my lifetime, but I never could account for them.

At last he came. I saw an object darken the doorway, hesitate for a moment, and then pass in over the body of Junglee, who snored so loudly and naturally that I could have declared he was asleep, had I not known the contrary by having spoken to him a short time before. Alla! Alla! Sahib, how my heart beat!—I could hear its throbbings, and they seemed to be so loud in my breast that I thought he would hear them too. Another thought flashed across me—could he be armed? and would he attempt to destroy me? It might be; and I almost trembled as I thought how I was to lie inactive and in his power while he abstracted the bag; I was on the point of leaping up and passing my weapon through his body, but I dismissed the idea. He is a thief, a miserable thief, and has not courage to bring a weapon, much less to use it; and he will want both his hands too—he cannot have one. So I lay quiet, with my hands on the hilt of my sword. The tent was very low, and he was obliged to advance stooping: he reached my side and knelt down, and as I feigned the hard breathing of sleep, I felt his warm breath when he looked over me and into my eyes to see whether I really slept or not. He appeared satisfied that I did, for he instantly thrust his hand under the pillow, but so quietly that I could not have felt it had I been asleep: but the bag was not on that side, it was under my other ear; he felt it, but found, I suppose, that he could not abstract it without his awakening me; so he felt about on the ground for a piece of straw or a blade of grass, and began tickling my ear on the side next to him. I obeyed the intention of the action, and turned towards him with a grunt: it startled him, and he was still for a moment: but again his hand was groping; I felt the bag recede—recede till it was withdrawn from the pillow; I heard the clink of the money as he placed it on his shoulder, and I was content: I saw too that Junglee was not at the door (though when he had gone I know not—having been too much occupied by my own situation), and that the Bhutteara was aware of it. He stopped, and murmured in a low tone, "Strange that he should be gone; but he knows the way and will not disappoint me." Another step, and he was beyond the threshold, and in the rough grasp of Peer Khan, Motee, and a dozen others.

"Capitally managed!" cried I, as I ran to the door and joined the group: "strike a light, one of you; let us see the face of this Roostum among thieves—a fellow who dares to rob a Thug's camp and defy him to his beard."

A light was brought, and there stood the trembling wretch, with the bag of rupees still on his shoulder, and clutching it as though it were his own. "Ha!" said I, "so it is you, Peeroo, and the wolf who was so wary has fallen into the hands of the shepherds at last; he would not take the little bait, but the large flock was well watched, and he has fallen into the trap. And now, rascal," I continued, "thou wouldst have robbed us, and dost deserve to die, yet upon thy answers to the questions I will put to thee depends thy life or death."

"Name them, oh name them!" said the wretch; "let me live,—I will set off without delay, I will even accompany you; you may turn me out from among you in the jungle, and if ever my face is seen in Saugor again or on this road, deal with me as ye list."

"Very good," said I; "now answer the following questions. Is the bunij you have promised false?"

"As true as that I breathe: ah, Meer Sahib, have not your men seen the preparations, and will not you hear the same to-morrow from them? how could you doubt it?"

"How much money will you give us to let you go? I want two thousand rupees."

"Ai MÉrÉ Sahib! MÉrÉ Sahib!" cried the wretch; "two thousand rupees! where am I to get them? I have not a cowrie in the world."

"It is a lie," said Motee and several others; "you have thousands of rupees which you have bullied poor Thugs out of; we could name a hundred instances in which you have taken money from us: how dare you deny it?"

"Look here," said I, "here is the roomal, and you know the use of it; say whether you will give the money or not."

"I will give it," said he; "I will swear on the pickaxe to do so, and do you come with me and take it."

"Ay," said I, "and be taken too ourselves! no, no, friend Bhutteara, do not try to throw dust on our beards after that fashion. Inshalla! the people who could catch you have sharper wits than you seemed to give them credit for: no, man, I was but joking with thee—where is all thy wealth concealed?"

"You may kill me if you will," said he, "but I give no answer to that question."

"Ah, well," cried I, "you may think better of it when you are choking; now you two hold him fast, and take the bag off his shoulders." They did so. I threw the roomal about his neck, and tightened it till he was almost choked: he made several attempts to speak, and at last I relaxed my hold a little; but he could not utter a word—fear of death had paralyzed his powers of utterance.

"Give him some water," said I, "it will wash down his fright." He took it, and fell at my feet, and implored me to spare him. I spurned and kicked him. "Where is the treasure?" I said: "you have felt the tightening of the roomal once, beware how you risk it again: where is the treasure?"

"Promise to let me live and I will tell," cried the Bhutteara, trembling in every limb.

"I will promise," said I; "you shall remain here, and I will send people to bring it; you well know we have no time for delay, and if you trifle with us you know the result—you have already half felt it."

"Where is Motee-ram? he knows the spot."

"Liar! I know it not," cried Motee, stepping forward; "do you wish to make me out to be a participator in your base gains?"

"You know the spot," continued the Bhutteara, "but you do not know that there is aught there; you remember the old hollow mango-tree on the other side of the town, where you left the last share I got from Ganesha?"

"I do."——"Well, then, you must dig in the hollow of the trunk; about a cubit deep you will find all I have—gold, silver, and ornaments."

"Now," said I, "villain, I have kept my word, you shall remain here; the grave is dug which shall hold thee, and has been ready for hours: I swore that I would spit on thy beard before morning, and Bhowanee, whose votaries thou hast bullied and threatened, has delivered thee into my hands:" and I spat on him; all the men who were near me did the same. "Again," cried I, "hold him fast, and bring the tobacco." He knew the fatal jhirnee, and struggled to be free; but he was a child in the power of those who held him—in an instant more he was dead!

"Off with you, Motee!" cried I; "take ten men and go to the spot he mentioned; he may have told the truth, and we shall be the richer for it; then will many a man cry 'Wah! Wah!' when he hears of this deed."

The body was taken away and buried, the grave was smoothed over and beaten down, the place plastered over, some fire-places made, and fires lighted to blacken them, and our work was concealed. Now did not that villain deserve his fate, Sahib? To my perception, his cold-blooded work was far worse than our legitimate proceedings; and as for his treachery, he paid the forfeit of it.

It was a fearful revenge, said I; but you spoilt the justice of it by your vile love of plunder. Why should you have promised him his life, and then have murdered him? that was base.

I did not promise it to him; I said he should remain where he was, and he did remain—ay, he is there now.

It was a nice distinction certainly, Ameer Ali, and only shows the more how little you are to be trusted. But how did you get on afterwards,—had he told the truth about his money?

He had, replied the Thug. Long before morning Motee returned, and rousing me, poured at my feet a heap of gold and silver coins, necklaces, armlets, bracelets, and anklets. They were worth nearly three thousand rupees, and not one article of them was there but had been given him by Thugs. Motee, Peer Khan, and others recognised most of the property. We melted all the ornaments, and divided the whole at our next stage, and it was a good booty, and enriched us for a long time; indeed I may say it lasted till our return home.

And the Sahoukar, I asked, was the news true about him?

Oh, quite true, said Ameer Ali; I will tell you of him. We left Saugor early, and at a short distance on the road sat down to eat the goor, as is usual with us after any adventure. While we were thus employed, one of the scouts came up, and told us the joyful news that the Sahoukar had left the town, and was close behind us, and that the other, whose name was Bhikaree, had taken service with him as far as Jubbulpoor as an attendant, to watch at night while the Sahoukar slept.

"And how does he travel?" I asked.

"He is on a tattoo, a good strong beast," said the scout, "and has two others laden with him, and there are four men besides himself and Bhikaree."

"Good," said I. "Now, my lads, we must push on; the Sahoukar must see nothing of us for some days, and till then I shall avoid all others."

We hastened on, and got to the end of our stage. Three days we travelled quietly, and from time to time observed the omens; they were all favourable, and cheered us on. On the fourth, as if by accident, we contrived to fall in with the Sahoukar and his people; our faithful Bhikaree we rejoiced to see in his train. It was in the road that we met with him, or rather allowed him to overtake us, and the usual salutations passed. I was well dressed and well mounted, and looked a soldier. He inquired our destination and business, to which the old story was answered, and we proceeded merrily along. The Sahoukar was a fat, jolly fellow, and witty in his way, and stories were interchanged, and we all laughed heartily at his jokes. It is astonishing, Sahib, how soon these trifles engender good will and friendship among travellers: the loneliness of the road and the weariness of the stage are forgotten in such pleasant conversation: and before we had reached the end of the stage we were as great friends as though we had travelled together for months, or known each other for years. A kind farewell was interchanged as we parted at the village; he to put up inside it, in the bazar, and we to our old plan of encampment.

"To-morrow," said I to the assembled men, "is a good day, it is Friday: we must finish this business." All were agreed upon it, and at midnight the BÉlhas and Lughaees went on, the former to choose a spot for the affair, and the latter to dig the grave.

At daylight, a man (our Bhikaree it was) came to say the Sahoukar would wait for us at the other side of the village, and begged we would be quick, as he liked our company, and wished for the safety of our escort. "I have been frightening him a little," continued he, "and in truth he has been in alarm ever since he left Saugor, for he had heard of the disappearance of some parties on the road last year; so when we met you yesterday he was highly delighted, and afterwards spoke warmly of you, Jemadar Sahib, and said he could feel no fear in your society."

"Well done," cried I; "thou too hast played thy part well, and it shall not be forgotten; but, my friends, the Sahoukar waits, and we had better be moving; do you all surround his party as you did yesterday; ply them with tales and stories, and keep their minds quiet."

"Jey Bhowanee! Jey Ameer Ali!" was the shout of the party as we quitted the ground and took our way to the spot where the Sahoukar awaited us.