Our friend the Lalla was soon at his ease with his new guide, whose injunctions to Motee, bidding him "take care," "mind a stone," "lift up his feet," and the like, encouraged the good beast, who now stepped out briskly, while the curious mixture of Oordoo and Mahratta, in which the small gossip and scandal of the neighbourhood was told him by Lukshmun, amused him much. The mile or so which intervened between the village and the temple was soon passed; and as they began to ascend the short rising ground towards the temple and the tree, the latter could be seen in all its wild picturesque detail, and was indeed a striking object.

The sun had now broken forth, and its beams shone slantingly through its rugged trunks and gnarled branches, resting brightly upon the glossy foliage sparkling with raindrops, and lighting up every excrescence and furrow of the knotty bark, casting broad shadows on the road below: while a slight parting shower, the large drops of which flashed brightly in the air as they descended, pattered upon the leaves, and spread out into the valley in a silver rain. As the travellers gained the summit, the clear sky beyond to the west not only caused the tree to stand out boldly and grandly against it, but the brightness of the sun dispelled the gloomy associations which the appearance of the place had suggested during the rain. A slight breeze, which had hardly been felt in the hollow, rippled the little pools on the roadway and on the plain beyond the tree, which, level and stony, continued, apparently many miles, in the direction they had to go.

Motee paused at the summit of the eminence, and the Lalla could not help stopping him to look back upon the road by which he had come. The bright yellow gleams of the sun shone broadly upon the two villages, and upon the rich green masses of their corn-fields. In the distance both looked pretty and comfortable: and their terraced houses, several white temples, and the dome of a small village mosque shone brightly in the sun. Behind these, and to the south, the plain over which the Lalla had come stretched away for many miles, showing the trees of a village here and there, with the occasional sparkle of a white house or temple among them; and behind all, the great black cloud of the day's rain, upon which there was a rainbow forming of great beauty, and against which a flight of white storks flashed like silver in the sun. Away to the south, the eye followed hollow and rise, undulation after undulation, till they were lost in a farther distance, which melted tenderly into the sky.

"It is a fair country, friend, after all," said the Lalla, "though it did not look well in the rain. That plain yonder is in the direction of Beejapoor, perhaps?"

"It is, sir," returned Lukshmun; "that high land, near the sky yonder, is beyond the Bheema river, and, if we were there, we should see the tomb of the great Sultan Mahmood, now finished. It is very grand, sir, and shines like silver when the sun is on it; and when I go there," continued the man, "I stand like a fool, looking at the King's palace, the Ark fort, the great gun, and the 'Ibrahim Roza'—that's the place where Ibrahim Adil Shah was buried, you know, sir——"

"Numascar Maharaj," cried a clear manly voice, now beside the Lalla's horse, which appeared to him to rise out of the earth, for he had not observed the approach of Gopal Singh and Rama from the temple.

"Who are these?" exclaimed the Lalla, starting and beginning to tremble—"who are these?" and the warning of the old Byragee now came upon him, with the distressing conviction that he ought to have regarded it; but it was too late. "Who are ye?" he asked anxiously.

"O, this is my brother Rama," said Lukshmun, assuringly, "and that is our Jemadar Gopal Singh; they only waited here while I went to Kinny."

"Be assured, noble sir," added the Jemadar, laughing, and in good Oordoo, with a slight southern accent, which seemed to assure the Lalla, "there is nothing to fear. Your worship is from Kullianee, perhaps."

"Yes, from Kullianee yesterday."

"Ah, yes, I remember; you were at Poorungeer's Mutt. I was just about leaving when you arrived, and the old man offered you escort of my party, but you preferred staying."

"I—I—I—had business," replied the Lalla, stammering, not exactly relishing Gopal Singh's bold looks, and yet unable to object to him. "I was tired and needed rest, and you could not wait."

"You had come from the royal court, I think they said, and were going to Beejapoor with letters for the King—proposals for peace, perhaps."

"So they said—who?" Of all things, the Lalla supposed his destination and business were at least secret; yet they appeared known, and to a perfect stranger, too, by the wayside. He did not feel able to reply, and was almost inclined to trust to Motee's speed, and break through the men; but Lukshmun, on receiving his matchlock from his brother, fixed the match, which had been hanging loose upon the cock, in a very precise manner, pressing the trigger to see if the match descended upon the pan. The others, too, looked carelessly to the priming of their guns, but to the Lalla's idea ominously, and as if he should understand the action. Lukshmun's face, too, appeared changed—it was not so pleasant as it had been.

"Come," said the Jemadar, "we have far to go to-night—what kept thee so long, Lukshmun?"

"O, the Patel at Kinny said we were to escort this worthy gentleman, as government orders had come about him from Allund; so I waited, as the rain had delayed him."

The Lalla felt reassured; his arrival was no doubt expected. "Ah, yes, sir," continued Gopal Singh, "you had better have come on with us three days ago, but it does not matter now. That is a fine horse of yours," he added, patting Motee's neck, "and from Hindustan, I think, as my lord is. We, too—that is, my family—are also from thence, Kanouj Khutrees; so is this good gun, too;" and he held out his own. "Yes; one can hit a man on horseback at full speed half as far as to the stream yonder."

It appeared to the Lalla as if the Jemadar was reading his thoughts as clearly as if he were telling them himself.

"And if we were in battle," he continued, "and any one were trying to get away from me, he would be shot between the shoulders before he could even reach the tree yonder."

"I—I—have no doubt of it, Jemadar Sahib," returned the Lalla,—"no doubt: and your speech is pleasant to hear after the rough language hereabouts."

"Come, come," cried Lukshmun, with seeming impatience, "if you want to pay compliments, noble sir, wait till we get to the end of our journey. Come!" and as he spoke he touched Motee's rein. "Come on, my son!" he said, and the horse followed.

As they passed the little temple in its loneliness under the shadow of the huge tree, it looked a place for evil deeds. A large horned owl on the highest branch, now awakening for his evening flight, hooted loudly above them, and was answered by another. It seemed an evil omen, and struck to the Lalla's heart.

"Ah! we cannot pass you, my friend," said Gopal Singh. "Look, Lalla Sahib, what my gun can do."

As he spoke, he raised the piece and fired. The aim was true and deadly, and the huge bird fell down heavily close to Motee's feet with a rushing sound, causing the horse to start back.

"I never miss," said the man, decidedly, and reloading his piece. "Now come on."

"Shabash! Well shot," said the Lalla; but his heart was throbbing fast, and it was a positive relief to him when the dark grove was behind them, and they emerged upon the bare, wild, open plain beyond.

"A lonely place that, Jemadar," remarked the Lalla, turning to the man who walked behind him; "and the old Byragee, where I slept, advised me not to go by it; he said Pahar Singh's men might be about. Who is this Pahar Singh?"

"Pahar Singh?" returned the Jemadar. "O, a worthy gentleman who is quiet enough when not plagued. He is the lord of the marches hereabouts—a valiant man, and a good soldier; and in these troubled times, Lallajee, has his friends and his enemies, like most of us: 'tis the way of the world."

After another mile, during which none of the party spoke, the Jemadar proposed to the Lalla to dispense with the guide. "Evening was drawing on," he said; "they knew the country, and the contents of the bundle could be carried on the saddle or divided among them;" and, indeed, it appeared necessary, as the guide, limping, declared he could go no farther, and had a thorn in his foot. The necessary arrangements were soon completed; and, between the Lalla's saddle-bags and his saddle, the contents of the bundle were soon disposed of; the guide received a small gratuity, and retraced his steps at a far more rapid pace than he had advanced.

"He has no more a thorn in his foot than I have, Lalla Sahib," said the Jemadar, laughing. "Look how he goes! but Bheema there is no worse than his fellows, and does not like the idea of a night journey without change. Now we shall get on better. Let the horse walk out, Lukshmun; only keep by him."

Lukshmun let go the rein, but he did not leave his place, and though the rate at which the horse now proceeded kept the men at a rapid walk, and occasionally, indeed, at a trot, they preserved the positions they had taken up without alteration, speaking little among themselves, except occasionally in Mahratta or Canarese, with both of which languages they appeared familiar.

The sun was setting in great glory. After the heavy clouds had passed away to the eastward, a clear blue sky succeeded for a while; but as a gentle breeze arose, it had brought up with it light, fleecy vapours, which, as the wind again died away at sunset, became motionless, and, gradually attracted to each other, formed piles of white clouds edged with deep grey. As the sun declined, white became orange and gold and crimson: while the sky itself, of an intense purple above, faded into green, yellow, and rosy tints, on which the golden clouds seemed to float in soft but brilliant masses: and, as it dipped below the horizon, a flood of light suddenly shot up, tinging the lower edges of all the lighter portions with vivid scarlet, and mingling with the deep orange and purple hues above, gorgeously.

"The gods have a festival upon Mount MÉru to-night, Lallajee. Does the sun go down in that fashion in your country?" said the Jemadar, pointing to the sky and breaking a long silence. "We have made good work of it since the guide left us. Come, here is a little stream, and you need a change of posture; dismount and rest, while I offer my evening libations to the four elements."

"No, I will not dismount, Jemadar," returned the Lalla; "you will not be long, and by all means let your men get a drink of water too, and wash their feet. I will stay here."

"He is not to be trusted," said the Jemadar to his men in Canarese; "I see it in his eyes. If he stirs, shoot him, and both of you stay by him."

Rama had fastened one of the horse's tether-ropes about his waist, and he now proceeded to tie the end of it to the cheek-strap of the bridle in a methodical manner.

"What are you doing?" cried the Lalla, alarmed at the action; "loose it!"

"O, my lord will dismount," said Lukshmun, "and who is to hold the horse?"

"I am not going to move: loose it, I say!" cried the Lalla, impatiently.

But Rama sat down doggedly at a little distance, holding the rope, and began deliberately to munch a cake his brother had unfastened from his back, resting his gun across his knees.

"Loose it!" again cried the Lalla, "Jemadar, why have I been tied like a thief?"

The Jemadar had divested himself of his upper clothing and stepped into the stream; he was taking up water in his hands and pouring it to the four quarters of the earth. His clothes and arms were on the river bank.

"There is no use in disturbing him, Maharaj," said Lukshmun, quietly; "he is at his prayers, and can't hear. My brother, you see, doesn't understand you, and he only does what the Jemadar told him; so get off and walk about a little. Come, I will hold the stirrup for you."

"No; loose the rope!" cried the Lalla again, eagerly, and reaching over to do so himself.

"Ah, Maharaj! you must not do that; you see my brother will be angry. I advise you to be quiet," said Lukshmun, putting back the Lalla's hand, and pulling the knot of the rope firmer.

But the Lalla could not now contain himself; his alarm was gradually increasing. He thought he could break away from the men, and dash through the stream ere they could fire at him. Touching Motee with the bridle and his heel at the same time, he aroused him from the sluggish position he had assumed, and moved him a little so as to face Rama, who still sat eating; and the Lalla was quietly gathering up the reins preparatory to urging the horse forward, when the keen practised eyes of the men detected the intention. Excited by his rider, the horse gathered himself on his haunches and made a bound; but Lukshmun, leaping at the bridle, hung on to it, jerking it back so violently that the horse reared, while the Lalla, whose right arm had been seized by Rama, lost his balance, and fell heavily to the ground.

Hearing the cries of the men, Gopal Singh had run from the stream hastily, taking up his sword, and reached the spot as the Lalla fell.

"Get up!" he cried, seizing his arm; "what folly is this? By the gods, he has fainted! Thou hast not used thy knife, Rama?"

"Not I, Jemadar; but he fell heavily. What could I do? He would have been off, for the horse is a strong beast, and I could hardly hold him—only for the old trick. Get some water, Jemadar, he will drink from thee. I will hold him up. Stay, here is his lota."

While the Jemadar ran for water, Rama knelt down and raised the Lalla's head, who now opened his eyes. "Speak to him, Lukshmun; tell him to get up and be quiet," said Rama to his brother.

"Do you hear, Maharaj? you are to get up and be quiet. Rama says so," cried Lukshmun, "and he is not a child."

"Nor I, Lalla," said the Jemadar, returning with the water. "By Krishna, what made thee vex the hunchbacks? they were likely to be rough enough if provoked. Art thou hurt?"

"No, my lord—that is, valiant sir—only a little," replied the Lalla, moving his body about to ascertain the fact. "No; but my life!—O spare my life!—do not kill me."

"I am more hurt than he is, Jemadar," said Rama, rubbing his arm, "for he fell on me. Ah, you rascal!" he continued with a Mahratta oath, "only for the Jemadar there I had settled accounts with thee; get up!"

"I petition," said Lukshmun, who led up Motee, now calmed, "as the Lalla broke faith with us, that he walks; and Rama rides, as he is hurt."

"Ah, by your heads, no!" exclaimed the Lalla; "I never could walk a coss in my life; and my feet would never go over these stones and briars. Kill me, if ye will, but walk I cannot."

"Tie him up," suggested Rama, "if he can't walk; we must not trust him in the dark on that good horse."

"A good thought," said the Jemadar; "give me his sheet from the saddle."

The Lalla guessed what had been said, and protested and resisted vehemently; but he was as a child in the hands of the men, and in a few moments his hands and arms were swathed to his body gently within the sheet, but so that he could not use them: and he was raised to his feet, trembling violently, while the bandage was fastened behind him.

"Ah, sir! do not shake so," said Lukshmun, smiling, and joining his own hands in mock supplication; "if you do, you will go to pieces, and there will be none of you left when we get to our uncle, Pahar Singh."

Pahar Singh! the Lalla's heart sank within him. But he had no time for remonstrance. He was lifted like a child into the saddle, the men resumed their arms and positions, and again set forward.

"Where are you going to take me, Jemadar?" asked the Lalla, trembling, as they crossed the stream. "Ah, be merciful to——"

"So you have got speech at last," returned Gopal Singh. "Listen, Lalla, if you had been quiet you should have ridden like a gentleman, now you go as a thief. Pahar Singh, my uncle, is lord of these marches, and knows what to do with you. One thing, however, I may tell you; if you make any further attempt to escape, I will shoot you. It is not your carcass that he wants, but what you have on it; the gold you got at Kullianee. Now, beware, for you know the worst."

Of what use was resistance, and the Lalla clung to life. They might take his gold. There remained, at least, the papers he possessed; and if he begged his way on foot to Beejapoor, what matter, so that he got there with them?

So they proceeded as rapidly as the ground would admit, still continuing to avoid all villages by paths through the fields, with which they seemed perfectly acquainted.

Before they reach their destination, which they will do in two or three hours more, we may describe the person to whom they are proceeding.