Ere he knew what to do or say, the Lalla was a second time bound with his own shawl; and Lukshmun, tearing a rag into strips, and soaking them in the oil of the lamp, was tying them coolly upon the ends of his fingers, one by one. "I told you, Lallajee," he said, "we are rough people here, and you should be careful. When I light these you will not like the pain, and if you bear that, he will do something worse. When he says 'ch-ck, ch-ck,' you know——"

"Silence, knave! thou art over-familiar," cried Maun Singh; "beware!"

"Nay, but if I can save him from the torches, uncle," returned the hunchback, with a grotesque grin, "he will perhaps be grateful, and give his wealth to me."

"Is it ready?" asked the chief.

"Quite ready, my lord," answered Lukshmun, taking one of the lighted wicks from the large lamp between his finger and thumb, "For your life, speak, good fellow," he said earnestly and under his breath to the Lalla, "and save yourself this torture. One word more from him, and I dare not disobey; few bear it—speak!"

"O, my lord! my lord!" shrieked the Lalla, now comprehending what was intended, and throwing himself prostrate on the ground, "do not burn me alive. I will speak the truth. Why should I tell lies?"

"Very well," returned the chief, on whose lips the ominous foam speckles were now visible. "Very well, get up; it is thine own business. Thou hast not heard of our Dekhan customs, perhaps, else I had not wasted words on thee. Speak, who sent thee? Alumgeer? He cannot help thee now."

"He would have no mercy on me if he knew—if he had me in his power," murmured the Lalla. "Loose me, my lord, I am faint, and cannot speak; yet I will speak the truth. And should all these hear? My lord knows best. Loose me, and have these rags taken from my fingers."

"When thou hast told the truth, Lalla; not till then," said Pahar Singh, slowly. "Dost thou hear? Away, all of ye!" he cried to the attendants, who had crowded round the Lalla. "Keep the torch alight. Now, Lalla," he continued, as the man stood alone below the dais, "speak. Once more, and this is my last warning; if I hear any more lies I will end that coward life of thine."

"Beware!" added Gopal Singh, "I would not be as thou art with that lying tongue of thine—ugh! no, not for lakhs. Remember that he, my uncle, never relents."

"I would rather speak to ye alone," said the Lalla.

"We three are as one. Yet stay," added the chief. "Go thou, Amrut Rao, let him have his own chance for life—but remain without."

"Do any of ye know the seal of the Wuzeer of Beejapoor," said the Lalla, when they were alone, "or do ye know the writing of Sivaji, the Mahratta Rajah?" He spoke with great difficulty, for his mouth was parched and clammy, and his lips white.

"Nay, but Sivaji cannot write, Lalla. This is some fool's story. Beware, too, how thou takest the name of my lord the Wuzeer," said the chief sternly.

"My lord, my lord, with death before me and one chance for life, I cannot lie," returned the Lalla, sadly shaking his head. "My hands are tied; but if one of you will open that bag, there will be truth enough found in it to save me. There, Jemadar," he continued, as Gopal Singh opened the bag, "in the side pocket are two Persian letters, fastened up; look at them first; look at the seals. If I am wrong I am wrong—I am helpless, do as ye like with me; I am helpless."

"It is the Wuzeer's seal, his private seal, uncle," said Gopal Singh excitedly. "Of this there is no doubt; look at it yourself."

"Ai Ram! Ai Seeta Ram! what have we here? It is the seal truly," said Pahar Singh, looking at the impressions on both letters, and rocking himself to and fro.

"Do any of ye read Persian?" asked the Lalla; "if so, read for yourselves. I need not speak; they will speak for me."

"I will try, uncle," said Gopal Singh; "give me the letters. By Krishna, father!" he continued, breaking the silence, and after his eye had glanced over a few lines, "I would rather go into the thickest fight than read treachery like this. Narayun, keep us!"

"Ay, may the gods be merciful, Gopala! But what is it?—what is it?" said the chief eagerly.

"He would sell our kingdom of Beejapoor to the Padshah of Delhi, uncle——"

"People said so—people said so," said Pahar Singh, interrupting; "but I did not believe it. What more, my son?"

"Nay, the style is too courtly for me to make much of it, but both the letters are to the same effect. Where didst thou get these letters, Lalla?"

"Noble gentlemen, if ye are true to your King's salt," exclaimed the Lalla, seeing that he had made an impression on his hearers, "then I deserve naught but good at your hands. I am in the royal service; I saw the papers; I read what danger threatened Ali Adil Shah; I took them; I escaped from the camp with them, to carry them to him, and I am here. O, noble sirs, put me not to loss and shame!"

On the next few words hung the Lalla's life. It were easy to kill him and secure the papers. The Wuzeer had sent several urgent messages to Pahar Singh lately. He had a matter of moment, attended with great profit, to communicate. Was it about these letters? The Wuzeer would give lakhs for them. The very threat of disclosure to the King would extort any terms. Again, if he denied them—and what more easy than to counterfeit his seal, or use it upon forged papers? If he took this course, they would be in a false position: false to the King and to the Wuzeer,—and the King's threats had of late been very menacing. So, as they deliberated, the Lalla's life hung in the balance, now ascending, now descending, in the eager consultation which the three men carried on in Canarese. The Lalla looked from one to another in piteous supplication, not daring to speak, his mouth parched, and trembling in every limb; for he felt this quick discussion, and the increasingly savage glances of the chief towards him, to be for life or for death.

"And this from Sivaji?" asked Gopal Singh, at length. "What of it, Lalla?"

"It was with the others, and there are some more of older date in the bag," he replied, "and of the Wuzeer's also. Sivaji's letters had to be translated to the Emperor: I had to copy the translations, and thus I came to know their contents. Noble sirs, I am telling no lies; look at the seal. They said in the Dufter it was Sivaji BhÓslay's. I do not know it myself."

"Keep the others close, and show this to Amrut Rao," said the chief. "Here," he continued, as the Karkoon, being called, advanced, "look at this; what dost thou make of it?"

The Karkoon looked at the seal and started. "May I open it?" he said.

"Yes, read it to us," said the chief.

He read it over slowly twice.

"Well, what is it?" asked his master.

"What Moro Trimmul wrote from Tooljapoor—what they asked you, my lord, to join in; and here is your name with five thousand men in figures after it, and the Wuzeer's with a lakh."

"Is it genuine, think you? that is what we want to know," said Gopal Singh.

"Certainly," replied the Karkoon; "there is the private mark on the seal, and the signature 'HÉ Venunti'—'this supplication'—is all the Maharaj can write. No one could forge that, it is too crooked. How did that man get it?"

"He stole it, Amrut Rao," said the chief; "and we are discussing whether he ought to live or to die. What dost thou think?"

"As a traitor to the salt he has eaten, he ought to die, master," said the Karkoon, looking at the Lalla, who felt that his fate was in the Brahmun's hands,—"but——"

"That is just what I said! he is not fit to live," interrupted the chief. "Let him die. Ho!"

"But"—continued the Karkoon in Canarese, persistently interrupting the chief, and waving back Lukshmun, Rama, and others, who were advancing—"if I may speak. He says he wants to take them to Beejapoor. Let him have his own way. A bargain may be made with Ali Adil Shah through his secretary the Meerza—not by him" (and he pointed to the Lalla), "but by us. The letters will not alter the matter one jot, and my lord can act as he pleases afterwards. We can send people with the Lalla."

"Excellently spoken, Amrut Rao; ye have all better brains than I have. Then the papers are valuable?" said Pahar Singh.

"Yes, my lord, if properly vouched for; and the man who stole them can give a better account of them than we can. The King might give any money—a lakh of rupees—for them. He already more than suspects the Wuzeer and Sivaji BhÓslay of being in league with the Emperor, and would rejoice to get such proofs of their treachery."

"Hark ye, Lalla," cried the chief, changing the language to Oordoo, which he spoke well, "what didst thou expect to get for these papers? What is the price of them?"

"My lord," he replied, simpering and putting up his joined hands, "they may be worth lakhs—so the Gosais at Kullianee told me—anything I liked to ask. They will negotiate the matter with the secretary and the King for me; and if my lord would only condescend to assist, I—I—would give—yes, he might be sure of a share."

"I of a share!—of a bribe! Art thou feeding me with a bribe? O base dog, and son of a dog! Pig! I a share? O Lalla, thou art surely mad, and fated to eat dirt. Enough of this! Ho, without!—Lukshmun!—hunchbacks!—away with him; give him the handkerchief in the outer court. Quick!" roared Pahar Singh, relapsing into fury.

"Uncle! father! not now," cried Gopal Singh, entreatingly, and touching his feet; then rising and stepping forward with joined hands, "calm thyself. Not to-day, when I am safe; not to-day, when I promised him life! Give his life to me for this day; after that, as thou wilt."

"It is valuable, my lord," added Amrut Rao. "These papers cannot tell their own story. Where could we say we got them? He must go with them to authenticate them. Gopal Singh and I can go to the city with him, and, after all, he deserves well of Ali Adil Shah, though he has been a traitor to his own King. Give him to us, my lord; we may get good out of him."

"No," said the chief, after a moment's pause, "no, Rao Sahib, I will go myself. I will see the end of this matter. Thou shalt come with me, Maun Singh; and we can work through thy brother, Amrut Rao. A lakh, saidst thou, O Lalla? Well, I will give thee a share if thou art true. And now I give thy life to thee—buksheesh!—a free gift—a new life, O Lalla. See that thou make good use of it, for what I give I can recall. Go: they will see to thy food and comfort, and thou wilt eat in a Rajpoot's house of the race of the Sun."

The Lalla would have said something about his gold and his horse; the words were in his mouth, and it was well, perhaps, he could not speak. The revulsion was too great for him, from life to apparently imminent death, and again from death to life. Weary with travel and faint with hunger, he had sunk down insensible, and they carried him away into the court.

"The King has been seeking my life, friends, for some time past," said the chief musingly. "Perhaps it would be well to use these papers—that is—— Yes," he continued, "I have eaten his salt—I and my father—and we eat it now. My heart revolts at this treachery, and we can be faithful with many another. Let us rouse the boy. There should be good stuff in Mahmood Adil Shah's son, and I will try it. As for the Wuzeer, I know what he would have me do, but I will not say it, else should we have been left quiet so long, and the army so near us? Stay ye here, Gopal and Amrut Rao. If he send for me, go to him at Nuldroog; 'tis but a ride. Go and take his money, then come to me at the city. I shall be in the old place; and bring the hunchbacks with you, there may be work for them."

The Lalla recovered as they carried him gently into the open air, and bathed his face with water.

"Ah!" said Lukshmun, who was the most active of his attendants, and was unbinding the shawl, "see what care I take of thee, O Lalla; better your fingers are sound than roasted; better your neck straight than twisted; better have to eat good food here—it is so good—than have thy mouth filled with mud and water in the river yonder——"

"My gold, my gold!" gasped the Lalla, interrupting him, "who has got it? at least get that for me."

"He has got it," replied the hunchback, pointing with his thumb backwards. "Better he, than I or my brother; we should only spend it—he won't. Thy star is bright to-night, Lallajee. When thou art set free do not forget us, that's all. Come."

They conducted him to a small chamber within, where two decently-clad women awaited them—slaves or servants—and informed the Lalla that a bath had been prepared for him, and food would be served to him in the eating-room.

We are assured, therefore, that the Lalla was left in good hands. There was perhaps a shade too much garlic in the cookery, he thought; but he was not particular, and appetite returned with absence of fear. When he had finished, he was summoned to the chief, and it was not without apprehension that he went; but he was now received kindly, though with a rough sort of civility, and motioned to sit near Gopal Singh. So assured, the Lalla's habitual confidence soon returned, and he took his part, with much ability, in the discussion that followed, in which his information in regard to the Emperor's designs was most valuable.

How the consultation ended will hereafter appear in another locality, to which we must now transport our readers.