Kasim hardly need be desired to do this; he longed to have some amicable conversation with one who had already excited such interest in his heart, and, as soon as possible after his few duties were discharged, he went to the tents which had been pitched for the English, and sought out his acquaintance. They met with pleasure; on Kasim’s part, with the result of the interest he had felt,—on the other’s with joy that among so many enemies there was one from whom he had received kindness, and who now again sought him.

‘I little thought to have seen you again,’ said the officer (for so in truth he was), ‘and this visit is a proof to me that we are not enemies.’

‘No, certainly,’ said Kasim; ‘I have no enmity towards you.’

‘Perhaps then you can inform me and my poor comrades why we are being removed to the capital; to us it is inexplicable.’

‘You are to enter the service of the Sultaun, we hear,’ replied Kasim; and from the flush of indignation which rose in the other’s pallid face, he could see how that idea was spurned by him.

‘Never!’ he cried, ‘never! and the Sultaun knows this full well; months, nay years ago, he offered the alternative between this and death, and we spurned it with contempt. He will try us again, and receive the same answer; and then, perhaps, he may relieve us by death from this imprisonment, which is worse.’

‘Then it has been severe?’

‘What! are you in the Sultaun’s service, and know not of our condition?’

‘I am not in his service,’ said Kasim; ‘chance threw me into the society of the officer with whom I travel to the city. I may enter it there, which my friend wishes me to do, if it can be effected advantageously.’

‘Do not enter it, I beseech you,’ cried the Englishman with sudden enthusiasm; ‘with so tender and gallant a heart, thou couldst not serve one who is a tiger in nature, one whose glory it is to be savage and merciless as his namesake. Rather fly from hence; bear these letters from me to Madras,—they will ensure thee reward—service—anything thou choosest to ask; take them, and the blessing of Heaven go with thee! thou wilt have succoured the unfortunate, and given news of their existence to many who have long ago mourned us as dead.’

‘Feringhee!’ said Kasim earnestly, ‘thy gallant bearing has won my regard, and my friendly feeling will ever be towards thee; but I abhor thy race, and long for the time when I shall strike a blow against them in fair and open field. I enter the service of the Sultaun at the city, whither we go; and this is answer enough to thy request; ask me not, therefore, to do what I should be ashamed of a week hence. I will speak to my commander about thy letters, and doubt not that they will be forwarded.’

‘The only gleam of hope which has broken on me for years has again faded from my sight,’ said the young officer with deep melancholy. ‘I well know that no letters will be forwarded from me. If thy master, or he who will be so, has denied my existence, and broken his solemn treaties in my detention, and that of the other poor fellows who are with me, thinkest thou he will allow me to write word that I am here?’

‘And is it so?’ said Kasim; ‘I believe thee; thine enemies even say that the English never lie. If it be possible to forward thy letters, I will do it, and ask thee far them; and now farewell! If Kasim Ali PatÉl can ever help thee, ask for him when thou art in trouble or danger; if he is near thee, he will do his utmost in thy behalf;’ so saying Kasim left him, and returned to the Khan.

‘I thought it would be as thou hast related,’ said he to Kasim, as the latter detailed the conversation; ‘such a man is neither to be bribed nor threatened. Even their bitterest enemies must say of these unbelievers that they are faithful to death. May Alla help him! for I fear the Sultaun’s displeasure at this, his last rejection of rank and service, may be fatal to him and to the rest; men’s determinations, however, do not hold out always with the fear of death before their eyes—but we shall see. Whatever is written in his destiny he must accomplish.’

‘Ameen!’ said Kasim: ‘I pray it may be favourable, for I honour him though he is a kafir.’

On the fifth day afterwards they approached the city. Kasim, with delight that his journey was ended, and that he should enter on his service without delay; the Khan, with mingled feelings of joy at returning to his master and his old companions in arms, and of vexation at the thoughts of his two wives, and the reception Ameena was sure to meet with from them. This, in truth, was a source of the most lively uneasiness to him, for he could not but see that, say what he would to comfort her, the spirit of Ameena had considerably drooped since the night at Nundidroog, when he told her of their existence. Still he hoped the best; and he said to himself, ‘If they cannot agree, I shall only have to get a separate house, and live away from them.’

‘Behold the city!’ cried many an one of those who led the force, as, on reaching the brow of a slight eminence, the broad valley of the river Cavery burst upon them; in the centre of which, though still some miles distant, appeared Seringapatam, amidst groves of trees, and surrounded by richly-cultivated lands, watered by the river. Not much of the fort, or the buildings within it, could be seen; but the tall minarets of a large mosque, two enormous Hindoo pagodas and some other smaller ones, and the white-terraced roofs of the palaces, appeared above the trees; and as they approached nearer, the walls and defences of the fort could be distinguished from the ground upon which it was built.

Passing several redoubts which commanded the road, they reached the river, and fording its uneven and rocky channel with some difficulty, they continued on towards the fort itself, whose long lines of rampart, high walls, bastions, and cavaliers, from which cannon peeped in every direction, filled Kasim with astonishment and delight.

As they rode onwards through the bazaar of the outer town, they saw at the end of the street a cavalcade approaching, evidently that of a person of rank. A number of spearmen preceded it, running very fast, and shouting the titles of a person who was advancing at a canter, followed by a brilliant group, clad in gorgeous apparel, cloth-of-gold, and the finest muslins, and many in chain-armour, which glittered brightly in the sun.

Ere Kasim could ask who it was, the cortÉge was near the head of his corps, which drew off to one side to allow it to pass. As the company advanced, the Khan dashed his heels into the flanks of his charger, and flew to meet it: Kasim saw him halt suddenly, and present the hilt of his sword to one who, from his appearance and the humility of the Khan’s attitude, he felt assured could be no other than the Sultaun.

Just then one of those bulls which the belief of the Hindoos teaches them are incarnations of divinity, and which roam at large in every bazaar, happened to cross the road lazily before the royal party. The attendant spearmen strove to drive it on; but not accustomed to being interfered with so rudely, it resisted their shouts and blows with the butt-end of their spears, and menaced them with its horns. There ensued some little noise, and Kasim, who was watching the Sultaun, saw him observe it.

‘A spear, a spear!’ he heard him cry; and as one of the attendants handed him one, he exclaimed to his suite, ‘Now, friends, for a hunt’! Yonder fellow menaces us, by the Prophet! Who will strike a blow for Islam, and help me to destroy this pet of the idolaters?—may their mothers be defiled! Follow me!’ And so saying, he urged his noble horse onwards.

The bull seeing himself pursued, turned for an instant with the intention of flight, but it was too late; as it turned the spear of the Sultaun was buried in its side, and it staggered on, the blood pouring in torrents from the gaping wound, while it bellowed with pain. One or two of the attendants followed his example; and the Sultaun continued to plunge his weapon into the unresisting animal as fast as he could draw it out, until at last it fell, groaning heavily, having only run a few yards.

‘Shabash, shabash! (Well done, well done!) who could have done that but the Sultaun? Inshalla! he is the victorious—he is the slayer of man and beast!—he is the brave in war, and the skilful in hunting!’ cried all the attendants and courtiers. But there were many others near, who vented their hate in silent yet bitter curses—Brahmins, to whom the slaughter of the sacred animal was impiety not to be surpassed.

‘Ha!’ cried the Sultaun, looking upon the group, one of whom had disgust plainly marked upon his countenance; ‘ha! thou dost not like this. By the soul of Mahomed we will make thee like it! Seize me that fellow, Furashes!’ he cried fiercely, ‘and smear his face with the bull’s blood; that will teach him to look with an evil eye on his monarch’s amusements.’

The order was obeyed literally; and, ere the man knew what was said, he was seized by a number of the powerful attendants; his face was smeared with the warm blood, and some of it forced into his mouth.

‘Enough!’ cried the Sultaun, leaning back in his saddle as he watched the scene, and laughing immoderately, pointed to the really ludicrous but disgusting appearance of the Brahmin, who, covered with blood and dirt, was vainly striving to sputter forth the abomination which had been forced into his mouth, and to wipe the blood from his face. ‘Enough! bring him before us. Now make a lane in front, and give me a spear. Away with thee!’ he cried to the Brahmin, ‘I will give thee a fair start; but if I overtake thee before yonder turning, thou art a dead man, by Alla!’

The man turned at once, and fled with the utmost speed that terror could lend him; the Sultaun waited a while, then shouted his favourite cry of ‘Alla yar!’ and, followed by his attendants, darted at full speed after the fugitive. The Brahmin, however, escaped down the narrow turning, and the brilliant party rode on, laughing heartily at their amusement.

Kasim watched all he saw with disgust; for, though a Mohamedan, and a sincere one, he had never heard of a sacred bull being destroyed; and there was something so wanton and cruel in the act of its destruction, that it involuntarily brought to his memory the words of the young Englishman, and his character of the Sultaun. But he had not time for much reflection, for the corps was once more in motion, and he became absorbed in admiration and wonder at all he saw—the extent and wealth of the bazaars—the crowds of people—the numbers of soldiers of gallant bearing—the elephants moving to and fro—and beyond all the fort, the interior of which he now longed to see; but the Khan turned off to the left, having passed the town, and after riding a short distance they entered the camp without the walls, and halted within its precincts.

Leaving Kasim with his tents, which had arrived, and were being pitched for the accommodation of Ameena, the Khan, accompanied only by his servant Daood, rode into the fort, to his own house, in order to break the news of his marriage to his wives, and to prepare them for their new associate. ‘There is sure to be a storm,’ he said, ‘and it may as well burst upon me at once.’

Alighting therefore at the door, where he was welcomed affectionately by his servants, the news quickly spread through the house that the Khan was come. He only delayed while he washed his feet and face, to cleanse them from the dust of the road" as well as to refresh himself a little ere he passed on into the zenana.

The two ladies, who had expected his arrival, and who had employed a person abroad to inform them of it, were sitting on a musnud smoking at one end of the room, with their backs to the door. As he entered, the gurgling of their hookas became doubly loud; a few slave girls were standing about the apartment, who made low salaams as he approached them; but the ladies neither rose nor took the slightest notice of him.

The Khan was surprised at seeing them together, as when he had left them they were bitter enemies, and he stopped suddenly in his approach. It was evident at once to him that they had heard of his marriage, and made common cause against him; he was justly enraged at this, and at the want of respect, nay insult, with which they now received him.

‘Kummoo-bee! Hoormut-bee!’ he cried; ‘women! do ye not see me? Where is your respect? How dare ye sit as I approach? Am I a man, or am I less than a dog, that ye take no more notice of me than if I were a stone? Speak, ye ill conditioned!’

‘Ill-conditioned!’ cried Kummoo-bee, who, though the youngest wife, was the worst-tempered, and who led the reply; ‘ill-conditioned! Alla, Alla! a man who has no shame—a man who is perjured—a man who is less than a man—a poor, pitiful, unblest coward! Yes,’ she exclaimed, her voice rising with her passion as she proceeded, ‘a namurd! a fellow who has not the spirit of a flea, to dare to come into the presence of women who, Inshalla! are daughters of men of family! to dare to approach us, and tell us that he has come, and brought with him a vile woman—an unchaste—’

‘Hold!’ cried the Khan, roused to fury as the words fell on his ear, advancing and seizing a slipper which was on the ground; ‘dare to say that again, and I will beat thee!’

‘Yes, beat us, beat us!’ cried both breathlessly at once; ‘beat us, and our cup of shame will be full. Beat us, and you will do a valiant deed, and one that your new mistress will approve of,’ cried Hoormut.

‘Alla, Alla! an old man, one with white hairs, to bring a new mistress to his wives’ house! Shame, shame!’ vociferated Kummoo.

‘I tell thee, woman, she is my wife!’ roared the Khan. ‘Ye will receive her as such this evening; and cool your tempers in the meanwhile, or by Alla and the apostle, I swear that I will send ye both to your relations, and they may keep ye or not, as they please, for I will not; so bethink ye what ye do; this is my house, and, Inshalla! I will be its master;’ and so saying, and not waiting to hear any reply, he left the apartment.