It was now evening: the gentle breeze which came over the simosa-grove loaded the air with the rich perfume of the blossoms. Cattle, returning from the distant pastures, lowed as they approached the village; and a noisy herd of goats, driven by a few half-naked boys, kept up an incessant bleating. Far in the west the sun had set in brilliancy; and a few light and exquisitely tinted clouds floated away towards the rocky range of the Adoni fortress, whose rugged outlines could be seen sharply defined against the sky. There were many beauties there, but they only remained to the living.

The grave of the Khan’s retainer had been filled in, and the long narrow mound raised on the top: one by one, those who had attended the funeral turned away and retired; but the Khan and Kasim, anxious to pay the last marks of respect to the deceased, stayed till all had been smoothed down, and the place swept. Garlands of flowers were strewn upon the grave,—they left the dead to its corruption, and returned home.

But among soldiers, especially Asiatics,—whose belief in fatality, while it leads them to be often reckless of life, yet when a stroke of sorrow comes teaches them resignation—death makes perhaps but little impression, unless any one near or dear is stricken down. The Khan and his host, having partaken of the hearty meal supplied by the PatÉl, and most exquisitely cooked by the stout functionary we have before alluded to, and having each been supplied with that soother of many mortal ills a good hooka, had already almost forgotten the ceremony they had assisted in, and were well disposed to become excellent friends, and to detail to each other passages in their lives, which they would for ever have remained ignorant of but for the fortuitous circumstances in which they had been placed.

And it was after a recital of his own deeds, which, however modestly given, could not fail of having impressed Kasim with a high sense of his gallant conduct, that the Khan said, ‘My brother, I was an adventurer, as you might be; young and active, hairbrained perhaps, and ready for any exciting employment, with only my arms and an indifferent horse, I entered the service of Hyder Ali. You see me now the commander of a thousand horse, having won a reputation at the sword’s point second to none in his gallant army. Why shouldst thou not have the same fate,—thou who hast personal attractions, greater power, and scholarship to aid thee—all of infinite value to an adventurer? What sayest thou then, wilt thou serve him whom I serve,—Tippoo, the lion of war, the upholder of the Faith? Speak, O PatÉl, for I love thee, and can help thee in this matter.’

‘My lord draws a bright picture to dazzle mine understanding,’ he answered; ‘I have dreamed of such things, of attaining to giddy eminences even of rank and power; but they are no more, I well know, than the false visions of youth, the brighter and more alluring as they are the more deceptive and unattainable.’

‘By my beard, by your salt, I say no!’ cried the Khan; ‘I have said nothing but what is a matter of every-day occurrence in the army. What was Hyder’s origin?—lower, infinitely lower than thine own. Thy ancestry was noble,—his can be traced back a few generations, beginning with a Punjabee Fakeer, and descending (not much improved i’ faith) to his father Hyder, whose mother was only the daughter of a cloth-weaver of Allund, somewhere by Koolburgah. It is destiny, young man, destiny which will guide thee—which, on thy high and broad forehead, shines as brightly as if thy future history were already written there in letters of gold."

‘My lord’s words are enticing, very enticing,’ said the youth, ‘and ever have I felt that the inactive life I am leading was a shame on me in these times; but I like not the service of the Nizam, and the Mahrattas are infidels; I would not shame my faith by consorting with them.’

‘Bravely spoken! hadst thou come to Tippoo Sultaun mounted and armed as thou shouldst be,—even alone and unbefriended as I did to his father,—he would have enrolled thee upon handsome pay at once in his own Pagha.^[8] With me, thou wilt have the benefit of a friend; and I swear to thee upon this my beard, and thy salt,’ cried the Khan generously, ‘I will be a friend and a brother to thee, even as thou hast been one to me, and her who is as dear to me as my own life’s blood. I owe this to thee for her life,—for the risk of thine own, when we were nothing to thee, by Alla, but as the dust of the earth,—I owe it for thine hospitality; I desire thee for a companion and a friend; and, above all, my spirit is vexed to see one like thee hiding here in his village, and marring his own destiny by sloth and inaction. Dost thou think that service will come to seek thee, if thou dost not seek it?’

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The young man felt the spirit-stirring address of the rough but kind soldier deeply, but he still hesitated: the Khan tried to guess his thoughts.

‘Dost thou think,’ he said, ‘that I have sweet words at my command wherewith to entice thee? Ay, that is my mistake, and I have spoken too freely to one who has never yet known contradiction nor received advice.’

‘Not so, not so, noble Khan, almost my father!’ cried Kasim; ‘I beseech thee not to think me thus haughty or impatient. By your beard, I am not—I thought but of my mother—of the suddenness of this—of my own—’

‘Poverty, perhaps,’ said the Khan; ‘do not be ashamed to own it. Thou wouldst go to service as a cavalier, as thou art, gallantly armed and mounted,—is it not so?’

‘It is: I would not serve on foot, nor have I money to buy a horse such as I would ride into battle.’

‘Right! thou art right, by the Prophet, but let not this trouble thee. We spoke of thee this morning: we dare not offer thee money—nay, be not impatient—we dare not offer thee jewels, else both were thine. We could offer thee honourable service; and, if thou wilt accept it, as my brother thou art entitled to look to me thine elder, thou knowest, for such matters as thou needest. With me are two horses, the best of the Dekhan blood, beside mine own Motee: him thou canst not have: but either of the others, or both, are thine; and if they do not suit thee, there are others at the city where thou shalt be free to choose. See, I have conquered all thy scruples.’

The young man was much affected, and the Khan’s kindness fairly brought the tears to his eyes. ‘Such service as I can do thee, O generous being,’ he exclaimed, ‘I vow here under mine own roof and by the head of my mother,—I will follow thee to the death. Such honourable service as I would alone have ever accepted is in my power, and I accept it with gratitude to thee and thine, whom the Prophet shield with his choicest care!’

‘It were well that your arrangements were quickly concluded, for I cannot wait beyond to-morrow,’ said the Khan.

‘It will be ample for my slender preparations,’ replied the youth. ‘I will break this to my mother now.’

‘You do right, Meer Sahib; I honour thee for thy consideration; and I too will to the Khanum: she will be glad to hear that her deliverer and her lord are now friends and brothers in service.’

Kasim sought his mother; she was with her guest as he passed the door of the inner chamber; so he desired a girl who was without to inform his mother he desired to speak with her in his own apartment.

There was not much to tell her, and yet he knew that it would grieve the old lady. ‘But I cannot continue thus,’ he thought aloud; ‘the fortunes of our house have fallen, and the Khan’s words bear conviction with them. I can retrieve them,—I may perhaps retrieve them, I should rather say; and, after all, she will rejoice to hear of me, and the fortune and rank I shall, by the blessing of Alla, speedly win; and then—’ but here his thoughts became quite inexpressible, even to himself; for there rushed suddenly before his imagination such a tide of processions, soldiery elephants, wars, camps, as almost bewildered him; while here and there a figure mingled with all, which, had he been closely questioned, he must have admitted was that of the fair Ameena. But his mother interrupted what we will say he was striving to put from him, by entering and standing before him.

‘Thou didst send for me, my son,’ she said; ‘what news hast thou to tell? Was the Khan pleased with the Zeafut?^[9] was the meat well cooked? By the Prophet, he hath a glorious cook; what dishes he sent into the Khanum, of which we have been partaking! By thine eyes, I have not tasted such since—since—’

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But while the old lady was trying to remember when she had last eaten of such savoury messes as she spoke of, her son gently interrupted her, and said gravely, as he rose and seated her in his own place, ‘Mother, I have much to tell thee, so collect thy thoughts and listen.’

She was attentive in a moment, and eagerly looked for what he should say,—with not a little apprehension perhaps, for there was sadness, nay even a quivering, perceptible in the tone with which he spoke.

Her grief was uncontrollable at first:—yet he gradually unfolded all his hopes—his previous determination to enter service when he could with honour—his desires for an active life—and his great chances of speedy advancement under the patronage of his friend;—and he laid them before his mother with a natural eloquence, under which her first sudden shock of grief fast yielded. Kasim saw his opportunity, and continued,—

‘So much as thou lovest me, mother, wilt thou not have pride when I write to thee that I command men, that I have fought with the infidel English, that I have been rewarded, that I am honoured? Wilt thou not feel, and then say,—“If I had prevented him, there would have been none of this.” And doth it not behove every believer now to draw his sword in defence of the faith? Look around:—the English are masters of Bengal and Oude; they hold Mahamed Ali of the Carnatic and him of Oude in a base thraldom; they thirst for conquest, and are as brave as they are cunning;—the Mahrattas have taken Hindostan and the Dekhan, and are every day making encroachments upon Nizam Ali’s power, which totters upon an insecure foundation;—and do not the eyes of every true believer turn to Tippoo, a man who has raised himself to be a monarch? I say, mother, I believe it to be my destiny to follow his fortunes: I have long thought so, and have eagerly watched the time when I should be able to join him. It has come, and dost thou love thy son so little, as to stand in the way of fame, honour, wealth, everything that is dear to me as a man, and as thy son?’

The old lady could not reply: but she arose and cast herself upon the manly breast of her son, and though she sobbed bitterly and long, yet at last she told him in accents broken by her emotion she was convinced that he was acting wisely, and that her prayers night and day would be for his welfare.

And her mind once being reconciled to the thought of parting with him, she made every preparation with alacrity. Such few garments as were necessary, and were the best among his not over-abundant stock, were put aside and looked over; and one or two showy handkerchiefs and scarfs which she possessed, with deep gold borders to them, were added to his wardrobe. ‘I shall not want them,’ she said; ‘I am old, and ought not to think of finery.’

Nor did Kasim neglect his own affairs; having made the communication to his mother, he at once sought the Kurnum, or accountant of the village, and disclosed his intentions to that worthy functionary. Though somewhat surprised at his sudden decision, he did not wonder at its being made; and, as he was a rich man, he liberally tendered a loan of money to enable Kasim to live respectably, until such time as he should receive pay from his new master. He despatched a messenger for his uncle, his mother’s brother, who arrived at night; and early the next morning he had concluded every arrangement for the management of his little property and the care of his mother.

These matters being arranged to his satisfaction, Kasim sought the Khan with a light heart and sincere pleasure upon his countenance. He found him busied inspecting his horses, and greeted him heartily.

‘Well,’ asked the Khan, ‘how fared you with the lady your mother after you left me?’

‘Well, excellently well,’ was the reply; ‘she made some opposition at first, but was reasonable in the end.’

‘Good! then I have no blame on my head,’ he said laughing; ‘but tell me, when shalt thou be prepared?’

‘Now, Khan Sahib, even now am I ready; speak the word, and I attend you at once.’

‘Why then delay, Kasim? Bismilla! let us go at once; the Khanum is well, and if thy good mother can but give us a plain kicheree^[10] we will set off soon; the day is cloudy and there will be no heat.’

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‘I will go bid her prepare it: and when I have put on some travelling garment better than this, Khan Sahib, and got out my arms, as soon as thou wilt we may be in our saddles. I am already impatient to see the road.’

The meal was soon despatched by master and servant—the camels loaded—the horses saddled. No one saw the farewell Kasim took of his mother; but it was observed that his cheek was wet when he came out of his house accoutred and armed,—a noble figure indeed, and one which drew forth an exclamation of surprise and gratification from the Khan.

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