Some days have passed at Beejapoor since we were last there, not idly, certainly. A large army had to be prepared for the field, and for a long, difficult, and perhaps hazardous service. The treasury was opened, and the arrears of all troops disbursed; for the men had to provide as well for their own wants as for those of their families during their absence. The condition of the artillery was looked to with particular care, and preparations made for rough roads and rougher service than other parts of the Dekhan afforded. Sivaji's mountains were high and steep, the jungle and forest next to impenetrable, yet Afzool Khan had taken up the "birra," the gage of service, and had determined to bring the rebel bound to the throne of his young King, there to receive death or pardon, as might be most fitting.

But the old Khan was no boaster. He had seen something of that country when, as a younger man, he had governed those provinces; and in his tours through them had shared the hospitality of Shahji, the father of Sivaji, and had been guided by Sivaji himself through many a rough hunting expedition; he therefore remembered enough to adopt precautions in all respects, and, so far as lay in his power, they were made.

That was not a country for the operations of cavalry, and it was therefore more to the infantry and artillery that he trusted: and it would not be wise to weaken the royal forces in and about the capital too much, lest the Moghuls should take advantage of it, and make incursions across the frontier, nay, even attack the capital itself.

His own Paigah, and troops that had been in quarters for the rainy season at his own town of Afzoolpoor:—some of the Wuzeer's Abyssinian levies, which were at Nuldroog,—some bodies of the old Dekhany horse under Alla-ool-Moolk, the DÂgtorays and Bylmees, were particularly selected; and, with some of the best infantry, the army was complete.

Nothing could exceed the spirit and devotion of the troops. In the beautiful Jumma Mosque, where more than five thousand men assembled daily for prayer, the preaching of the Peer, and the other ecclesiastics of that noble edifice—which yet remains as perfect as it was at the period of this history—eloquently set forth the merits of the JÉhÂd, or religious war, in the eyes of God and the Prophet; and the certainty of paradise and its houris, to all who, falling by sickness or in battle, would surely enjoy them. Nor was it in the Jumma Mosque only that this fervour existed. In the royal Palace precincts, the city mosques—at the tombs of the ancestors of the Kings—the beauteous Ibrahim Roza, and noble mausoleum of Sultan Mahmood, nothing was left undone by the preachers to make the war popular, and to blacken the character and motives of the rebels. Frequently, indeed, to such a pitch of excitement were men wrought, that it was difficult to restrain them from attacking Hindus indiscriminately in the streets, and, in the expressive language of the Peer, from "making a pyramid of a lakh of heads before the palace gates." But it was no part of the royal policy to allow such religious fury vent at the capital or by the way: suffice it that, at the end of a long and toilsome journey, which would be made light through religious fervour, there would be free licence to slay, and the raid of Afzool Khan would become memorable in the history of the kingdom.

As the camps of the different leaders, too, formed without the walls, on that great plain which encompassed the city, bards and minstrels, in companies or singly, balled-singers, and, above all, troops of dancing women—thronged to them; and day and night, audiences were formed, sometimes in the tents, sometimes in the open air, where the feats of Sivaji and Maloosray were sung in the native Mahratta or Canarese, with verses added for the occasion, urging the faithful to destroy them.

We may be sure that, if the old Khan and Fazil were active in the field, Lurlee and Zyna were no less so in the house. To Lurlee war was familiar. She had been long weary of a monotonous life in the city, varied only by an occasional day's excursion to the royal palaces at Toorweh, the Ibrahim Roza, or to the Khan's own garden, which was without the walls; and she remembered vividly the time when, for months together, the Khan's tent, or a temporary lodging in a village, were her only home, moving hastily or leisurely, as the service required, from place to place, in her palankeen or on horseback, as might be.

Ah! she was young and active then, and with the sharing of a rough bivouac or hurried march,—scanty food, often cooked by herself, a horse-cloth to lie upon, and a shelter contrived with four spears and a sheet thrown over them—and hard fighting to boot,—were her pleasantest memories of the Khan's love and her own happiness. If she were not so young, the old spirit was at last roused; and, day by day, as the preparations went on, the good lady told Zyna of the old wild times, and excited her desire to share in the new expedition.

To Zyna's great joy her father had directed that the whole family was to move. Lurlee was indispensable to the Khan in the field, where, indeed, her truest value was apparent; and Fazil could not be denied the command he had earned by his sagacity and valour. Who, then, could protect Zyna, even did he desire to leave her? True, the royal BÉgum had offered a home, and with it her love to the maiden; she should be her little secretary, and write the King's private letters to her father while he was absent. But it could not be: that loving heart would have pined without those whose daily converse had been its life for years, and the invitation was affectionately but respectfully declined.

We may, perhaps, also hint another reason, not more powerful, certainly, than the love of those nearest and dearest to her, but working with it, nevertheless, in no mean degree. Kowas Khan had not suffered by his father's treachery. It was not only that Afzool Khan and Fazil answered for him with their lives and honour; but it had become clear to the King, and to those who had examined the late Wuzeer's correspondence, that the son had been kept ignorant of his father's plans; so, when the period of mourning was past, Kowas Khan had been taken to the royal court by the Khan and his son, and invested with robes of honour. Of the King's participation in the secret of his father's murder Kowas Khan had no knowledge, and could have none. It was believed to have been committed in revenge by some discharged soldiers, and it were better that he died as he had done, than that his treacherous intention should have succeeded, or that the ignominy of a public execution should have followed its detection.

While, therefore, the young man was still residing at the Khan's house with his mother, and other younger members of the family, he renewed his proposals for Zyna, which were heartily seconded by her, and other female relatives. It was, however, no time for such affairs; and with a tacit consent that, when the campaign was over, there should be no more delay in the marriage, Kowas Khan contented himself with being told by Lurlee KhÁnum—when the worthy dame had retired behind a screen—that, after a strict investigation, she had come to the conclusion that his temperament was fire and Zyna's air, and that, in consequence, their union promised to be felicitous in the highest degree; and that her friend the Moolla agreed with her.

Did our space admit of it, we would tell how friends on both sides met for the betrothal; and how,—there being no time for more lengthened ceremonies,—they stood up and interchanged packets of betel-leaf covered with gold and silver foil. How both sides swore that those they represented should never swerve from the contract; how the first, and hundred and tenth chapters of the KÔrÁn, were said devoutly by the Moolla and the assembly; and what good things were provided at night by Lurlee KhÁnum and her trusty cook Kurreema, for those who came to the quiet ceremony. Many were the complaints of Lurlee's female friends, and perhaps Zyna's also, that there was not greater rejoicing; but Afzool Khan made it known that, when the marriage did take place, there should be no stint; and so the neighbours were satisfied for the present, and consoled themselves with hope for the future.

Bulwunt's wounds had proved of less consequence than was supposed at first, and loss of blood had caused the weakness under which he suffered on the night of the scene in the temple. He was now able to move about, and even to ride, and in the ensuing campaign, in a country which he knew thoroughly, his local experience would be of great use. He was not, however, sanguine as to the result. As he expressed it, hunting Sivaji and Maloosray would be like chasing the wind; it would be heard and felt, but never seen. Nevertheless they might be brought to terms, and hereafter become worthy servants of the royal house.

Everything, therefore, being prepared, and the royal astrologers having fixed a fortunate day and hour for the commencement of the march, the whole of the troops were drawn out in battle-array on the plain north of the fort, and the young King bade the leaders God-speed. Descending from his elephant, he embraced the old Khan, his son, and other noblemen and gentlemen of note; and as the royal NagÁrÁs, or kettle-drums, which had been directed to accompany the force, struck up a march, and were answered by those of every body of horse, infantry, and artillery on the field,—the troops at once proceeded to their several destinations, a few miles distant, shouting the war-cries of their several leaders.

It was necessary, however, for the Khan himself, with his son and Kowas Khan, to visit Nuldroog, where a great portion of the army lay, and whence some of it was to accompany him; for though the troops at Beejapoor, which had been under the late Wuzeer, had shown no signs of disaffection, those at the fort were suspected, and their loyalty must be put to the proof ere the army could proceed. Lurlee KhÁnum and Zyna, therefore, were despatched under guidance and escort of Bulwunt Rao and others, to Sholapoor, to await the Khan's arrival; and with a party of horse lightly equipped, his son Fazil, the Peer—who had declared his intention of witnessing in person the discomfiture of the infidels, and seeing to the religious exercises of the army during its march—and Kowas Khan, Afzool Khan proceeded by the direct road of his own town of Afzoolpoor to the royal fort.

We need not follow their journey, for the country affords nothing interesting or remarkable for description. After passing the town of Almella, they crossed the Bheema, now falling rapidly, and already fordable in some places for horsemen: and Afzoolpoor, lying near the further bank, was safely reached on the third day.

Here the Khan found employment for two days more: for he was in no hurry to leave his own town, and the various matters to which he found he had to attend. His own last resting-place, a lofty, handsome, square building, with a massive dome, and the mosque adjoining it, were all but completed, and their consecration was necessary. This was performed by the Peer, the Moollas of village mosques around, the Kazee of Nuldroog, and the representative of the saint Boorhan Sahib, who lived at the pretty village of Boorhanpoor, some miles to the north, where the saint's tomb had been erected. "It was well," said the old Khan, "to have the place ready; who could tell whether it might not be required soon?" Who could tell indeed? and so the ceremonies were completed.

Nor would the hospitable representative of the Boorhanpoor saint allow the Khan's party to pass his village without entertainment. Parties of leaders of the troops at Nuldroog, now only a few miles distant, came to the festivities, and, in the meeting with them, all apprehensions were removed from the Khan's mind. Swearing on the holy book before the saint's shrine, they declared their fealty to the King, and their attachment to their young master, in terms which could not be mistaken.