Looking from her latticed chamber sat Kummoo-bee, her heart beating so that its pulsations seemed audible to her own ear, her bosom heaving as though it would almost burst the bounds of the light boddice which enclosed it, and her eye flashing brightly, as she thought upon the sure success of her mission. Little she heeded the soft and chastening light which the moon’s rays cast upon every object around, silvering the tall white minarets of the mosque, till they stood out in perfect relief against the deep blue of the sky, and resting upon the sharp pinnacles of the ancient temples, where all else was lost in shadow. The large courts around them, into which she looked in the day-time, then filled with busy throngs, were now deserted, save by the broad giant shadows which the temple and the trees around it cast across them. Now and then the shrouded form of a Brahmin would pass noiselessly through them, the moon’s light resting brightly upon the white drapery around him; but as he hurried on the deep black shadow seemed to enshroud him, and he was no longer discernible within its influence.

As Kummoo sat thus, she would idly speculate, with vacant eye fixed upon some figure in the square beyond, or listen to the hoarse and distant noubut, which, as the night advanced, beat at the tomb of the Sultaun’s father, or to the wailing and quivering sound of the brass horns which arose from the camp, when the watch was being relieved. She heeded not the luscious perfume of orange-flowers and tube-roses, which, loading the air, came in at her open window from the garden beneath; but her whole senses were absorbed in one object, which she rather wooed than strove to turn away from her mental vision; at times too a tear would fill her large lustrous eye, and, welling over the lid, trickle down her face unheeded—a tear of burning passion—no soother to her excited mind, but rather aggravating those feelings which had now become almost too painful to be borne.

‘What can delay her?’ she said, speaking half aloud to herself; ‘by this time I might have been with him. Ya, Fatima, aid me! my liver is burnt with passion, and the air which comes to me seems hot—hot with my own breath; I can bear this no longer. Why does she tarry?—she is old, or she might be dallying with him. What if she were? but no, that cannot be—she dared not. She knows well I would tear her limb from limb if she harboured even a thought of his love; and she is faithful too. I must wait; he was away perhaps—he may have been here—here, under this roof, where he little dreamed there existed one whose greatest happiness would be to die at his feet. Holy Alla! who is that?’ she cried, as a long train of musing into which she had fallen was suddenly interrupted by the opening of her chamber door. ‘Who comes?’

‘Sozunbee,’ was the reply.

‘Sozunbee!’ she said, while the blood poured through her frame in wild pulsations; ‘and ’tis thou at last! Hither, quick! quick! sit here, and tell me all. I have long, long looked for thee; why hast thou tarried? I am ready now—even now; come, let us haste—what? thou dost not speak! Woman! hast thou done my bidding?—hast thou seen him?—if not, tell me, and I shall be cool—now I am burning!—Ya Alla kureem, burning!’ and she fanned herself violently, while her articulation showed that her mouth was quite parched. ‘Speak! why dost thou not speak?’

‘I have seen him,’ was the reply.

‘Well! Oh for patience to listen! By Alla! thou canst never have loved, Sozunbee, or thou wouldst know what it is to have fire within thee—fire!—wilt thou not quench it?’

‘It will be hard for thee to hear all, lady; shall I tell it?’

‘All—all! thou sawest him—well! why dost thou hesitate?’

‘I would spare thee pain; go now to rest, thou wilt be calm to-morrow.’

‘Pain! what dost thou mean? Pain!—he cannot—’ she almost gasped in a hoarse whisper, while her eyes flashed so that Sozun could hardly bear their intense gaze; ‘he cannot have denied me! he dare not have flung aside love like mine! Holy Prophet! Sozun, thou dost jest!’ and she laughed wildly.

‘May the holy Mother of Ali, and the Lady Murium, and the saints aid thee, my life!’ said the woman, rising and passing her hands over her head, to withdraw the evil from her. ‘May they give thee peace! As I live I saw him and spoke with him, but thou must be calm ere I tell it thee.’

‘I am calm—see, I am quite calm,’ she said, making a violent effort to swallow; ‘feel my hand—it is cool—I can listen.’

But her hand belied her words; it burned as though she were in a fever, and the quick and strong pulsations of her blood were distinctly perceptible; to delay, however, was but to excite her more.

‘I went,’ said Sozun, ‘to his abode; long I watched at the door: men came and went; the Khan was there; there was haste and bustle, and much deliberation. At last all departed; a Khitmutgar^[53] observed me, and asked me what I did there? I said I would speak with the Syud, that I had a matter to tell him of; he went in, and I followed. I was closely veiled. “Wait here,” said the man, “I will inform him.” I waited; the moments were like hours. “Go in,” said the man when he returned, “he is alone.” I trembled as I proceeded, and found myself in his small apartment ere I was aware. The Syud was writing. “Stop! who art thou?” he asked, and his words were sweet as the sound of children’s voices at play. I salaamed thrice.’

‘Quick! quick! good Sozun, what said he?’ asked the lady eagerly. ‘I care not what thou didst.’

‘Thou shalt hear. “I am your slave,” said I, “and bring thee a message—wilt thou listen?” "Say on," he replied, “I hear thee; sit down and speak; hast thou any complaint?” "No, no!" I said, “I have none; cease writing, and listen.” He did so: then I untied the corner of my dooputta, and gave him what thou hadst sent. “Dost thou understand the tokens?” I asked.

‘Beebee! he looked sorrowfully on them. “They speak of love,” he said; “why hast thou brought them to one who is dying?”

‘“She is fair,” I said—“most lovely. Her eyes are large, her lips are red; in beauty she is like a rose when it opens to meet the morning sun which drinks the fragrant dew from its cup. She has seen thee, O Syud, and her liver has become water.”

‘“What misfortune is around me?” he said. There was no anger in his tone, but sorrow. “I have no love now but for one; but let that pass. Go to her who sent thee: say I pity her—say, as we have never met, and I know her not, so let her turn her thoughts to another; she will see many in the Durbar.”

‘He had thought thee one of the palace dancers; thou knowest they are high and proud, and men account themselves fortunate to win a smile from them: I eagerly undeceived him.

‘“She is no Tuwaif,” I said; “she is a householder, and as far above them in beauty as the moon is above a star.”’

‘And what said he, Sozun?’

‘Then he grew grave, my pearl, and said sternly,—“Such love is sinful—it is impure; bid her forget it. She hath a lord—what am I to her? Why hath she looked on me with eyes of passion? Begone! say to her, Kasim Ali PatÉl is no man of dishonour, but pure and unstained; as yet, no dissolute or debauched gallant. Away! thou art an offence to me.” Beebee! I tried to speak; he would hear nought. “Begone! begone!” alone sounded in mine ears, and his eyes were so large and so severe that I trembled.’

‘And was this all, Sozun? was this all? Ah fool! ah fool! why didst thou not say I was a Tuwaif—anything—a slave—he would have heard thee. Ah fool! couldst thou not have pleaded for me in words—hot, burning words, such as would have inflamed his heart, dried up the cold dew of his virtue, and turned him to me with a love as violent as mine own? Couldst thou not have said that I live upon his look?—one look I had, only one, which mine own thoughts have magnified into years of intercourse—couldst thou not tell him that I am one who will brook no control? Ya Rehman Alla! couldst thou—’

‘But he said he loved another,’ interrupted Sozun, vainly endeavouring to stem the torrent of her mistress’s words.

‘What, another! O woman, thou didst not say so—thou didst not dare to say it. He loves another! Then he can love, if he has loved another. Who is she? couldst thou discover her, O dull one? A Tuwaif perhaps—some vile and worthless one, some scum of perdition! No, he is too noble for that.—Water, Sozun, water! By Alla, I choke! Enough—now take the vessel. Thou saidst another. Ha! if it were she! if it were she! What dost thou think?’

‘Who?’

‘Ameena! it must be—it can be no other. She is beautiful, very beautiful; he hath saved her life, twice saved it. They have been in camps together, and he must have met her, and then— Dost thou not see all, Sozun, clear to thine eye as daylight? Does it not all open gradually upon thee, as when the dawn of morning dispels the darkness, objects that were before dim and shadowy assume palpable forms?’

‘There is suspicion surely, Khanum, but we have never heard aught breathed against her.’

‘No, she hath been discreet; but may it not be so? I ask thee calmly, when Alla knows my heart is on fire.’

‘It may, but—’

‘Enough! enough! we will watch: and she who was born to be my curse—she who hath thrown me from my seat of pride, and intruded between me and my rights—may perchance be rudely thrown from her elevation. Grant it, O Prophet! O ye saints and holy men, grant it! Yes, we will watch now, Sozun; wilt thou not aid me?’

‘To the last.’

‘Enough then now; this hath calmed me somewhat for the while: revenge is dimly seen in the distance, but it will come, it will come! Now lie down beside me and sleep; the night is far spent, I am weary of watching, and my heart aches, Sozun.’

‘Alla keep thee, lady!’ returned the other; ‘I will watch beside thee for a while, for I feel not sleepy, and the air is pleasant.’

And she watched silently, for her thoughts were busy with the events of that night—her strange meeting with Jaffar, his now apparently reckless character, and the threats he had held out against the young PatÉl; for she had been with him long, and if they had not renewed the passionate love of former years, he had caressed her, and vowed to befriend the only being for whom he had ever felt affection.

The fresh breeze of night, laden with perfume from tree and flower, poured in gentle whispers through the casement, murmuring and sighing above it amidst the slender leaves of the palms. Abroad all was still, except now and then the bark of a dog, or the call of the sentinels upon the walls to each other that all was well. Gradually the moon’s glorious light crept round to the window, and stealing into the room, it wandered over the recumbent figure of the lady till it rested upon her face. ‘She sleeps now,’ thought Sozun, ‘or the light would disturb her; peacefully too! and oh, how lovely her features and those long lashes appear, as the light plays among them, and kisses them in very wantonness. I would he could see her now—he, with those glorious eyes so full of expression, into which no woman could look without love! her fate is in the power of her destiny. May it be propitious! Our paths are dark and rugged before us, yet we must walk on without a light or a guide. And now I will to rest also, for mind and body are both weary.’

Men poured into the Fort from every side the following morning, both officers and men; for the order had gone forth for all to hear the determination of the Sultaun upon the crisis. Elephants and horses, gay palankeens, their bearers striving with each other for precedence, proceeded to the Durbar, exerting their utmost speed with loud cries; and glittering armour, cloth of gold and silver, and the most brilliant silks, satins and muslins, shone in the bright sun, as the turbans, the vests, or the scarfs of the wearers. Rumour had gone forth that the Sultaun himself would proceed against the infidels, and every man was eager to be led to war and plunder—victory in the one, and rich booty in the other, being his by anticipation.

Crowds hurried on. The hall of audience in the palace had long been filled, and the people reached from the entrance far beyond into the courtyard. Cries of ‘Deen! Deen! Alla Yar! Alla Yar!’ rose perpetually from among the mass, and mingled with the sound of the kettle-drum and shrill pipes, which continued playing while the Durbar was open. The Sultaun was seated upon his throne, over which, suspended by a fine wire, so as to appear really to flutter over him, was hung a golden bird, whose wings and tail, set with precious gems, glittered as the wind stirred it to and fro. This was the Humma, or sacred bird of Paradise, whose shadow, so long as it falls upon a monarch, prevents his sustaining any injury, and to which many miraculous powers were ascribed by the lower order of soldiery, or those who had risen from it. Around Tippoo—some engaged in fanning him, others gently moving peacocks’ feathers or tails of the Thibet cow to and fro, to prevent the flies from settling on him—were a number of fair and youthful creatures, whose ruddy or pale cheeks showed their origin to have been in the cold and distant climate of the West. They were all dressed sumptuously as women, they had been instructed in the arts of music and dancing, and were thus held up to the scorn of the people generally, who were taught, by frequent allusions to them, that all English were effeminate cowards, fit only to be dressed as women, and to be engaged in such frivolous occupations. Some of the boys were young, and had known no other existence than that debased slavery. These took pride in their gorgeous dresses, and moved about to display them; others, apparently over-powered by shame at their disgraceful situation, hung down their heads and strove to conceal their faces from the prying glances of the spectators. A miserable lot was theirs: many of them retaining a vivid remembrance of their countrymen, their faith, and their freedom, were obliged to perform a routine of bitterly degrading duties, dancing and singing before the Sultaun for the amusement of the Court; and although many of the spectators pitied the poor boys and their sad fate, yet no one dared to utter a word of sympathy in their behalf, while there were too many who rejoiced in their abject condition.

Seated near the monarch were his sons, three fine youths; and in double and treble rows from the throne, the officers of the army, of the state, his own flatterers and sycophants, and a host of others, as closely packed as it was possible to stand or sit. From time to time some of the boys would perform a dance before him, or a few jesters, buffoons or actors, exhibit some ribald scene: the more their language was indecent and keenly directed against the English, the more applause it received from those present, particularly from the Sultaun, who encouraged them by words and promises of liberal reward; while shouts of laughter would resound through the hall at any successful sally or witty allusion.

The moments were, however, precious; and when the Sultaun observed that the hall was full, the dancers and jesters were dismissed, and silence commanded. The order was obeyed, and all looked with impatience to hear the real result of their monarch’s deliberation, in regard to the matter of peace or war, which had so long appeared to be doubtful. For a while he appeared to meditate: then, partly raising himself up, he selected a small paper from among the heap before him, and, ere he read it, spoke to those immediately around him.

‘We, whose government is the gift of Alla,’ he said, ‘desire no concealment in our affairs; therefore listen, O ye faithful, and my friends—we are about to read you a revelation which was vouchsafed to us last night, and which on awaking we recorded; it hath since pleased the author of power to afford our mind a clue to the unravelment of the mystery, and this too we will unfold to you. As we lay asleep soon after midnight, we thought we stood on the shore of the sea, and afar off sailed many great and powerful ships which bore the colours of the English. As we looked, behold a little cloud arose, and soon there was a mighty wind, before which all was scattered, and those who were on the seashore awaiting their arrival returned to their homes dejected and dispirited. These were the kafir Feringhees (may their graves be unblessed!)—they are helpless now; and, by the favour of the Prophet, as they have provoked a war by their own imprudence and bad faith, they shall find that the men of Islam are ready and willing to fight for their faith.’

‘We are ready! we are ready!’ cried the assembly with one voice; ‘lead us to battle! we are your children—we will fight with you to the death.’

‘Listen further,’ he continued; ‘there was yet another vision more wonderful than the last vouchsafed to us, which proves that all those Moosulmans who fight against us in the armies of the English become hogs when they are stricken with death.’

‘They deserve it—they are faithless and treacherous—they sin against the holy Prophet (may his grave have rest!)—so may their ends be perdition and unholy!’ shouted many of those who listened, while the rest cried, ‘A miracle! a miracle! that such revelations should be made to our Father and our Sultaun!’

‘But that was not all,’ continued Tippoo; ‘for, to prove his words, the angel withdrew a film from before mine eyes, and I beheld a most extraordinary spectacle—one which filled me with amazement: before me stood a man with a hog’s head, who, when he saw me, advanced to meet me. “Who art thou?” I said. “I am one of the true faith of Islam,” he cried, “but I no longer desire to be called one, for I fought against it under the banners of the infidels, and now I suffer for my indiscretion and faithlessness. I am, as you see, a hog; and these men have all been transformed into hogs; they also were killed in the various engagements with the kafirs; we are in the dreary land of spirits, and thine is permitted to hold communion with ours here, in order that the glory of the faith may be upheld, and the terror of our example made known among thine armies.”

‘Then methought all became dark and dreary, and a cold wind blew, and before us were shadowy objects which the eye could not determine at first; but as we looked upon the scene, dim forms were seen advancing towards us in lines, even like unto regiments, and the spirit which had spoken to us began to manoeuvre them after the manner of the English, with whose system it appeared to be acquainted. But, O my friends, as I looked, all had hogs’ faces! and the words of him they obeyed sounded like grunts in our ears. Wherefore we beseech you to consider this thing, and whether it is better to live and die in a natural state—the beloved and chosen of Alla—or whether ye would also be hogs, and wallow in the filth of your own abomination, like unto the Christians and those who serve them?’

‘Miracles! miracles!’ shouted the assembly; ‘the Sultaun is the beloved of Alla! To him alone are now revealed visions and wonderful dreams! for him we will fight, and for the faith!’

‘Ay, ye say right,’ cried Tippoo; ‘very wonderful are the manifestations of Alla to his servant; therefore we shall this day begin our march, for we have heard that the kafirs are below the passes: Inshalla! a few days will bring us up to them, and then we will see whether their pride and haughtiness cannot be humbled. Let us, therefore, join together and send these infidels to the regions of perdition; and if ye be crowned with victory, ye will be full of honour and renown, and become the envy of the world; while to those who fall, martyrs in the cause of Islam, hear what the Prophet (blessed be his name!) hath promised. “They shall enter into pleasant places, where many rivers flow, and curious fountains send forth most murmuring streams, near which they shall repose themselves on soft beds, adorned with gold and precious stones, under the shadow of the trees of Paradise, which shall continually yield all manner of delicious fruits. And they shall enjoy beautiful women, pure and clean, having black eyes and countenances always fresh and white as polished pearls, who shall love none but themselves, with whom they shall enjoy the perpetual pleasures of love, and solace themselves in their company with amorous delights to all eternity; drinking with them most delicious liquors without ever being overcharged by them, which shall be administered by beautiful boys, who shall be continually running round their beds to serve them up to them in cups of gold and glasses fixed on diamonds.”’

‘We will follow the good path!’ cried hundreds, with flashing eyes and fierce gestures; ‘show us the infidels, and we will fall on them and annihilate them for ever!’

‘Bismilla, so be it!’ returned the Sultaun; ‘every man to his post! pay shall be issued to all, and to-morrow we shall advance. The planets are in a fortunate conjunction, and the kafirs shall tremble once more at our terrible war-cry of Alla Yar.’