The Khan was to march early next morning for the fort, but his departure was delayed purposely to allow of the troops to send out parties to perform the ceremony of "Istikbal," or meeting; and, after again partaking of the good Durwaysh's hospitality, the party rode on without interruption.

The road from Boorhanpoor to Nuldroog leads up the pretty and fertile valley of the BÓree river, which is skirted by low grassy hills for several miles. Then leaving the river, as the hills grow bolder, it rises gradually through passes among them, and, after several steep and stony ascents, gains a level plateau, from whence the fort and town are distinctly seen below.

Soon after leaving their post, the party began to meet others from the fort, dressed in their gayest and best costumes; and these, having made their salutes to the Khan, rode forward to the front, so that gradually the men in advance swelled to a considerable number, and had all the appearance of an independent body of cavalry. Out of this, wherever the ground afforded room, and was free from ruts and stones, men dashed at speed, wheeling and circling their horses, so that their movements appeared like those of a real skirmish.

When they reached the level plain on the summit of the plateau above the town, the Khan was met by the Killadar, or governor of the fort, the principal officers of the troops, the civil authorities, and others; some on horseback, others on gaily-caparisoned elephants with clashing bells. Both parties dismounting, and the leaders having embraced each other,—the officers presenting the hilts of their swords as Nuzzurs, or offerings to the Khan,—the procession—for it had now become one—moved on slowly in gorgeous array, amidst the firing of matchlocks and camel swivels and welcome guns from the fort; and the appearance of the Khan and his gallant son, as they rode together through the main street and bazar, dressed in rich cloth-of-gold, was a subject of general remark and approbation by all classes. The prospect of a campaign, always pleasant to the soldiers, especially under so renowned a leader as Afzool Khan, increased the general satisfaction of all concerned.

As they passed its first gate, the booming of cannon from the ramparts announced their arrival within the fort, and was answered by guns from the encampment on the heights to the west. Passing the ditch by a causeway, they entered the fausse-braye by a narrow passage, and thence ascending slightly to the main entrance, with its massive flanking bastions of black basalt, the interior was reached—at that time a busy place, crowded with houses and shops in some parts, but in others laid out in open gardens, and spaces where the troops could assemble.

A curious and picturesque spot in many respects is this fort. Built upon a tongue of basalt, which is precipitous on three sides, and of considerable height, it is joined to the level portion of the plateau to the west, on which the town stands, by a neck considerably narrower than the enceinte; and on this side a double wall with bastions, and a deep dry ditch, form the defences. Round the edge of the precipices of the hill itself, is a single wall of great strength, with large bastions at intervals; and the river BÓree, lying deep in the valley below, washes the base of the hill on two sides, north and east.

To the north, to secure a constant supply of water to the fort, a stupendous dam of masonry has been thrown across the river upwards of seventy feet high, and of proportional thickness, by which the water is held up in the valley, so as to form a pretty lake of the same depth at the dam, which extends above the town. On the other side of this dam is another fort on a smaller knoll, which serves as a tÊte-de-pont to the dam, and completes the fortification.

To the old Khan the place was familiar. He had often taken turns of duty there to watch the frontier, but to Fazil and his friend it was new; and when ceremonies of reception and the introduction of Kowas Khan to the officers of his father's levies, now his own, were finished, the friends accepted the offer of the Killadar to examine the marvels of the place.

The wonderful dam, through the upper sluices of which the stream was precipitated into a deep pool at its foot, in two pretty cataracts; the suite of apartments in the body of the dam itself, over which the river rolled in flood, and fell in a sheet before its windows; and the noble Cavalier at the east end, from the top of which extensive views of the country on all sides were obtained, were duly admired. It was evening when the friends reached the summit of the Cavalier, and they sate there watching the glorious sunset, over town and fort and lake, in which the piles of gold and crimson clouds broken with dark purple, with the sombre masses of fort walls and bastions, and precipices on which they stood, were reflected in its deep waters.

It was not so easy to prepare the troops required there as at the capital; but the Khan was anxious that nothing should be wanting in their equipment, and a few days was required to complete preparations for the field. This delay enabled the chief officers of the country to arrive and pay their respects, and, among others, Pahar Singh, no longer disguised, but in his proper character as one of the wardens of the frontier marches, attended and did service with a body of picked men, both horse and foot, which rivalled, if they did not surpass, the royal troops in completeness and splendour of appearance.

Very different were the chief and his nephew now, in comparison with the time when we last saw them; and in the noble figure, dressed in light chain armour and cloth-of-gold, riding a superb grey horse, and giving commands to his men, no one could have recognized the old ragged Fakeer and his cry of "Ulla dilÂy to lÉonga," which still often rang in the ears of those who had heard it.

The building, which went by the name of the King's Palace, and which was kept for the use of royal officers of rank, or even for royalty itself, should the King have occasion to visit the fort, had been assigned to Afzool Khan and his retinue; and, after the transaction of daily business in one of the public halls of the fort, he retired, after evening prayer, to his apartments, finding relaxation in a game of chess with the priest, who was a stout opponent, or hearing or dictating his public correspondence.

It was the fourth evening after his arrival, after an unusually busy day; the priest was occupied with a sermon in the mosque, and the Khan had retired into one of the rooms of the house, which, being built into part of the fort wall, possessed a projecting oriel window, commanding a view of the whole of the east side of the fort, with its walls and rugged cliffs. By day these precipices did not appear extraordinarily remarkable; but when shrouded in the gloom of evening and night, with the river brawling beneath them in its rocky bed, their height and effect were indefinitely increased, and the murmur of the river below became delightfully soothing.

One corner of this oriel, furnished with cushions, had become the favourite resort of the Khan. Here he had been sitting alone and undisturbed, and occupied with despatches and other papers the whole of the evening; and he was about to retire to rest when an attendant entered, somewhat abruptly.

"I said I was not to be disturbed, Allee," he cried; "what dost thou want?"

"My lord, there is a man without, who says he has urgent business, and he must have speech of you alone. I said it was impossible; but he declared you would be angry with me if you knew he were denied, and that I was to say to you, 'Ulla dilÂy to lÉonga,' and you would understand."

"Admit him, instantly," said the Khan, to his servant's astonishment. "Ha, Pahar Singh again! what new work has he now got here for us?"

Muffled closely in a sheet, with his sword under his arm, the chief approached the Khan, and bent lowly before him. "Send that man away, and hear what I have to say," he said; "it is important."

Allee looked at the chief suspiciously, as though he were trusting his master to a dangerous character; but, at a reiteration of the order, he returned to depart.

"Take this weapon with you, friend," said the chief, laughing, "thou art afraid of it, perhaps; not so thy lord,—nor of me. Keep it for me, however, till I come out."

Allee took the sword. "I did not like the look of him," he said to another without, who belonged to the fort. "Who is he?"

"Dost thou not know Pahar Singh?" returned the man; "that is his famous sword DÉvi, which has drank many a man's blood; come, let us look at it. There will be something to do, surely, as he is with the Khan."

"I have but a few words to say, Afzool Khan," said Pahar Singh, as the servant retired; "and I can do a good service, if it please you, my lord, to join in it or aid it."

"If it be a service to the King's cause, why not?" said the Khan; "but none of thy blood feuds, Pahar Singh; thou canst not use the royal troops for thine own purposes."

"Nor do I need them, my lord," returned the chief, somewhat stiffly. "I have enough men of my own to answer for those matters; nay, indeed, for this also, if I have your permission; and only that my rascals are somewhat too free of hand to be trusted in a town at night, I had done it myself ere this."

"Thanks, friend, for thy caution," said the Khan, smiling; "we shall know each other better by-and-by. But what is this scheme?"

"When I left you, Khan Sahib, the night of JehÁndar Beg's execution," replied the chief, "I had knowledge that Tannajee Maloosray was in the city, and I knew where he was. My people watched every bazar and street during the day, and we had a strong party near the Goruk Imlee trees, thinking he might like to come and see an old friend for the last time; but he kept close, like a bear in his den, till night, and then stole away. My boy and some of my people wanted to catch him in his den; but I knew Tannajee could not be taken alive by mortal, and I wanted to see him sit like JehÁndar Beg under the trees, and die like a man; so I took a body of my horse and rode after him towards Tooljapoor, where he was going. We occupied the pass at HÓrtee. But he escaped us there, Khan; and hearing afterwards he had gone to Jutt, there appeared to be no use in following him, as he had twenty-five coss start of us. But I was a fool, my lord; and for once Tannajee outwitted me. He went on next day to Tooljapoor; how, I know not. He was seen there in the temple, and he left again that night, no one knows whither."

"To Tooljapoor in one day!" exclaimed the Khan, "no horse alive could do it."

"Ah, my lord, your high-fed beasts would not, but ours can; and Tannajee and his friend Netta Palkur have the best mares in the Dekhan. No matter; he escaped us."

"He was—he is—the very bone and sinew of this rebellion," said the Khan.

"True, as Sivaji Rajah is the spirit; but he left some of the bones behind him at Tooljapoor," returned the chief, with a grim smile; "and I can pick them up for you, my lord, if you will either help me or let me do it alone as best I can; only remember, if the town is plundered, you know the cause, and I am not responsible for the blame."

"That you had better avoid, friend," said the Khan, "you are badly spoken of already. But the bones, good fellow, the bones! who or what are they?"

"Ah! I had forgotten them," continued Pahar Singh. "Well, there is Moro Trimmul, Maloosray's agent and shadow; as wily, and more mischievous. He is still at Tooljapoor, pretending to give recitations,—and they are very good, my lord, in their way,—and to serve at the temple; but I am not sure that one of the Moorlees is not at the bottom of it, and when a man gets into women's hands, he is easily caught. Then there are all those who will assemble there. Have you remarked, my lord, that hardly one of the heads of the old Mahratta families have come to present their Nuzzurs to you?"

"I have remarked it," returned the Khan, "but supposed they were afraid of some demand for forage, or horses, or money, and therefore kept clear of me."

"Not at all," returned the chief, "they have all sworn to aid Sivaji, and Maloosray took an account of their quotas of horse and foot with him to the Rajah."

"Then they met Maloosray?"

"They did, my lord, the night he came to the temple, and here are their names. There are other people, you see, who have ears and eyes besides Maloosray; and only that your NÄik at Tooljapoor is an owl, he had seen this conspiracy long ago, while I was too busy to watch it. Better, perhaps, he did not; we can do our work more securely. And now, do you wish to seize this gang of rebels or not? I advise you to do so, because they are strong, and, should there be any difficulties in the West, are capable of making a serious diversion, especially if Maloosray, or even this Brahmun,—who is more of a soldier than a priest,—get among them. These Nimbalkurs and Ghoreparays, my lord, quiet as they look, are heavily supported by the people; and if the Ramoosees rise with them, the country will be in a flame."

"And how dost thou know all this, Pahar Singh?" asked the Khan. "I must have some warranty that it is true."

"Some months ago, my lord," he replied, "this very Moro Trimmul and others canvassed me as to joining Sivaji's band, and offered me whatever terms I pleased to ask. I refused, for I was content as I was."

"That means," remarked the Khan dryly, "that thou wouldst have joined them if there had been anything to be got by it."

"My lord is still incredulous," returned the chief, "and perhaps I deserve doubt till I have given him further proof. But I feel the King's hand on my head still, and his pardon is more to me than promises, of Mahratta, or Moghul either."

"Good!" said the Khan; "it is well said, and I believe thee. But about these rebels; are they still there? and how many may there be of them?"

"They are there, my lord," replied the chief. "I was in the temple last night disguised as a Byragee, with my nephew and four others: we heard the recitations from the Ramayun, which, to Hindus, are very much what the Peer Sahib is saying now in the mosque yonder, and said yesterday at the Eedgah on the plain, when the whole force shouted 'Deen, deen!' and it sounded like thunder. Jey Rao Nimbalkur was there, and some of the Kallays——"

"How many?" said the Khan, impatiently interrupting him; "what care I for their teeth-breaking names?"

"Five hundred perhaps, including followers."

"And is this temple a strong place? Do we require guns?"

"Strong enough to defend if they knew you were coming," returned Pahar Singh, "but for the most part they will be unarmed, and looking at the show. We need only cavalry to surround the town, and no one can escape us. No guns, my lord; they could not be taken up the mountain at night, and ours must be a surprise, else the temple will be dark as midnight."

"Ya Alla! ya Kabiz!" (destroyer of enemies), muttered the Khan to himself, "a rare trap for these Kaffirs—let them die! Good," he continued; "it shall be done; but when? I should march to-morrow for Sholapoor."

"Do so, my lord, and halt at Tandoolwaree; 'tis half way. I will join you there with some of my people the day after to-morrow, and lead you by a pass in the hills which I know of at night, so that we can surround the place unobserved. Take some of your own men and Ibrahim Khan's Abyssinians; they know no fear, and are more certain than the braggart, plundering Dekhanies, who are afraid of the Mother who sits in the glen, though they are Mussulmans."

"What Mother, friend?"

"Only she in the temple; we Hindus call her the 'Mother'; and she, my lord, must not be touched."

"No, no; nor her people, I will see to that," said, the Khan.

"And the affair must be kept secret, Khan," he continued.

"It is known to thee and me, Pahar Singh, and to no one else; not even my son shall know of it till we march."

"Now let me depart," said the chief, "and the night after next I will come."

"God willing," replied the Khan, dismissing his strange visitor with a courteous salutation.