"Be it so," said I sadly; for though I hardly dared think it, I felt as if this was our parting for ever. "Go then; and if you return not, I will come to you by the evening."

A covered zenana cart was easily hired; and the driver seeming perfectly to understand where she wished to go, she stepped joyfully into it, attended by her old servant, and, with two of my men to attend her, she left me.

They soon returned, but they knew nothing, save that there was great joy in the house when her relatives saw her. Towards evening I could no longer control my impatience; and taking one of them with me, I mounted my horse and rode to her house.

It was situated nearly opposite a fountain, which is in the centre of the street below the Char Minar, and I had passed it the day before. I was easily admitted; and oh! what joy was evinced when I entered the room where Zora, her sister, and mother were seated! "He is come!" cried my poor girl, and she rushed into my arms. She strained me to her breast for an instant, and then holding me from her, "Look, mother!" she cried; "look on him; is he not as I said? is he not as beautiful and brave ?"

The old lady approached me, and passing her hands over my face cracked her knuckles and every joint of her fingers by pressing the backs of her hands against her temples, while the tears ran down her cheeks: this she did as often as there was a joint to crack; and then she caught me in her arms and hugged me, crying at the same time like a child.

The sister received me, I thought, rather coldly. Had I been less handsome, perhaps, she would have been more cordial; she did not seem to like Zora's having so handsome a lover.

"May the blessing of the Prophet and the twelve Imams be on you and your posterity!" cried the old lady when she had recovered breath to speak. "May the gracious Alla keep you in His protection, and may the lady Muriam and the holy Moula-ali bless you! You have made a desolate house full again, and have changed our weeping to joy. What can I say more? Who could have thought it was our Zora when a cart stopped at the door? Zenatbee was just saying that it was that vile wretch Sukeena come to pretend condolence, while in reality she rejoiced at our misfortune, which left her without a rival; and I was saying-no matter what I was saying when we heard a faint cry, as if of astonishment, and a bustle, and we did not know what to think; when in rushed our lost Zora, our pearl, our diamond; and then I thought my old heart would break with joy, for my liver seemed to be melted; and I have done nothing since, Meer Sahib, but sit opposite to her, and stroke her face with my hands, and gaze into her eyes, to assure myself that I am not mistaken. Inshalla to-morrow I will

send five rupees to every shrine in the city, and distribute sweetmeats to fifty beggars in the name of the Imam Zamin; besides, I will have a tazea made, and will no longer wear these mourning garments. Ah! Meer Sahib, if you knew how I have sat day after day, and wept till I am reduced to a mere shadow of what I was! and all my friends tried to console me, but in vain, I would not be comforted." And her tears flowed afresh at the recollection. What the old lady was before her grief commenced, I cannot pretend to say; but in her present plight she appeared the fattest woman I had ever looked upon. She could now talk; she rolled from side to side when she stirred, and lifted her feet as an elephant would do among a dense crowd of people. It was painful to see her in her tight trowsers; at every movement she made, especially when she sat down, they appeared about to split, and let out a mass of flesh which was in rebellion against its confinement. ought to have worn a petticoat; but no, the old lady had her vanity, and still prided herself on the beauty of her limbs, which I heard afterwards had really been strikingly symmetrical in her youth.

She

We sat conversing and relating our adventures, until the evening fell, and I spread my carpet for prayer.

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Ah, he is a good syud," said the old woman; "I like to see the young fond of their devotions; but it is ever thus with the noble race from Hindostan."

I was preparing to take my departure, when they one and all cried out against it. "What! leave our house before you have broken bread and drunk water with us ?" It was not to be thought of,-I must stay: dinner was prepared; they were just on the point of sending for me when I came, and above all it was the ninth day of the Mohorum, and I must stay, were it but to see the procession of the Nal Sahib. That sacred relic, one of the shoes of the horse the blessed Prophet rode when he fled to Medina, would be carried in grand procession, and I should never have a chance of seeing the like again. These reasons, and many imploring looks from Zora, made me speedily determine; so sending away my horse and the man, with a message to my father to say I should not return, I gave myself up to a night of enjoyment, such as I little expected when I parted with Zora in the morning.

The dinner was excellent, and the old lady's cooking unexceptionable. There were all sorts of curries, with but a mouthful in each little cup, but still sufficient of cach to leave an exquisite flavour in the mouth, only to be replaced by another surpassing it-pilaus of various kinds, and sweetmeats-and, to crown all, some delicious wine of the infidels called the Francees, which the old lady pronounced not to be wine, but sherbet, and allowed to

the Huzoor himself, the great Sikundur Jah. It certainly was very delicious, and elevated the spirits. At the end, after taking a whiff or two, she carefully wiped the mouth-piece, and presented me with her own hookah, the fragrance of which was beyond that of ambergris or musk. I was in paradise! I was intensely happy!

"You have heard me sing," said Zora to me, "when I was in captivity, and after the fatigues of travel in our little tent, where there was no scope for my voice; now my heart is glad and bounding, and you shall hear me again-may the Prophet pardon me for singing during the Mohorum!—and you shall say which you like best; my sister shall accompany me till I am tired, and I will then accompany her."

A saringhee was brought; Zenat tuned it, and taking the bow played a short prelude. It was one to the most entrancing sounds I had ever heard. Zora surpassed all her former attempts, it was ravishing to listen to her; and her sister, who was a perfect mistress of the instrument (a strange thing for a woman), gave it its full force of melody and expression. You know, Sahib, how nearly it accords to the human voice; and now, as accompaniment and song rose and fell together, it appeared as though two of the richest, fullest voices were pouring forth strains such as angels might have come down from the skies to hear.

But at last the noise of drums and shouting outside became so great, that both gave up in despair.

"A plague on them all," said she; "and I in such voice that I could have sung to you all night! And have I sung well ?”

"Ay, have you," said I; "but methinks the first song you ever sung to me, at the palace in Oomerkhér, will dwell longer on my memory than any I have heard since."

"Ya Alla!" exclaimed Zenat, who had moved to the window; was there ever a sight so magnificent! Come and see; 'tis passing fast, and will be soon out of sight."

CHAPTER XV.

SETTING FORTH HOW AMEER ALI SPENDS THE NINTH NIGHT OF THE MOHORUM, AND HOW HE LOSES HIS MISTRESS.

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ZENAT'S exclamation drew us to the window. Quick!" she said; "look out, or you will lose the sight; they are even now passing the Char Minar."

We did look out, and the sight was indeed magnificent. A crowd of some hundreds of people were escorting a punjah, that holy symbol of our faith; most of them were armed, and their naked

weapons gleamed brightly in the light of numberless torches which were elevated on lofty bamboos; others bore aftab-geers, made of silver and gold tinsel, with deep fringes of the same, which glittered and sparkled as they were waved to and fro by the movements of those who carried them. But the object the most striking of all was the Char Minar itself, as the procession passed under it; the light of the torches illuminated it from top to bottom, and my gaze was riveted, as though it had suddenly and startlingly sprung into existence.

The procession passed on, and all once more relapsed into gloom: the Char Minar was no longer visible to the eye, dazzled as it had been by the lights; but as it became more accustomed to the darkness, the building gradually revealed itself, dim and shadowy, its huge white surface looking like a spectre, or I could fancy like one of the mysterious inhabitants of the air whom, we are told, Suleeman-ibn-Daood and other sages had under their command, and were thus enabled to describe. Again, as we gazed, another procession would pass rapidly, and a sudden flash as of lightning would cause the same effect; interior and exterior of the edifice were as bright, far brighter they seemed, than at noonday.

I was enraptured. Zenat had left us to ourselves, and we sat, my arm around my beloved, while she nestled close to me, and we murmured to each other those vows of love which hearts like ours could alone frame and give utterance to.

Long did we sit thus. Sahib, I know not how long—the hours fled like moments.

"Look!" cried Zora, "look at that mighty gathering in the street below us; they are now lighting the torches, and the procession of the Nal Sahib will presently come forth.”

I had not observed it, though I had heard the hum of voices; the gloom of the street had hitherto prevented my distinguishing anything; but as torch after torch was lighted and raised aloft on immense poles, the sea of human heads revealed itself. There were thousands. The street was so packed from side to side, that to move was impossible; the mass was closely wedged together, and we waited impatiently for the time when it should be put in motion, to make the tour of the city.

One by one the processions we had seen pass before us ranged themselves in front, and as they joined together, who can describe the splendour of the effect of the thousands of torches, the thousands of aftab-geers, of flags and pennons of all descriptions, the hundreds of elephants, gaily caparisoned, bearing on their backs their noble owners, clad in the richest apparel, attended by their armed retainers and spearmen, some stationary, others moving to and fro, amidst the vast mass of human beings!

One elephant in particular I remarked, a noble animal, bearing a large silver umbara, in which sat four boys, doubtless the sons of some nobleman from the number of attendants which surrounded them. The animal was evidently much excited, whether by the noise, the lights, and the crowd, or whether he was "must," I cannot say; but the mahout seemed to have great difficulty in keeping him quiet, and often dug his ankoos into the brute's head with great force, which made him lift his trunk into the air and bellow with pain. I saw the mahout was enraged, and, from the gestures of some of the persons near, could guess that they were advising him to be gentle; but the animal became more restive, and I feared there would be some accident, as the mahout only punished him the more severely. At last, by some unlucky chance, the blazing part of a torch fell from the pole upon which it was raised on the elephant's back; he screamed out with the sudden pain, and raising his trunk, rushed into the crowd.

Ya Alla, what a sight it was! Hundreds as they vainly endeavoured to get out of the way, only wedged themselves closer together, shrieks and screams rent the air; but the most fearful sight was when the maddened beast, unable to make his way through the press, seized on an unfortunate wretch by the waist with his trunk, and whirling him high in the air dashed him against the ground, and then kneeling down crushed him to a mummy with his tusks. Involuntarily I turned away my head; the sight was sickening, and it was just under me.

When I looked again, the brute, apparently satisfied, was standing quietly, and immediately afterwards was driven away; the body of the unfortunate man was carried off and deposited in a neighbouring shop; and all again became quiet.

All at once the multitude broke out into deafening shouts of "Hassan! Hoosein! Deen! Deen!" the hoarse roar of which was

mingled with the beating of immense nagaras. The sound was deafening, yet most impressive; the multitude became agitated; every face was at once turned towards the portal from which the sacred relic was about to issue, and it came forth in another instant amidst the sudden blaze of a thousand blue lights. I turned my eye to the Char Minar. If it had looked brilliant by the torch-light, how much more so did it now! The pale sulphurous glare caused its white surface to glitter like silver; high in the air the white minarets gleamed with intense brightness; and, as it stood out against the deep blue of the sky, it seemed to be a sudden creation of the genii-so grand, so unearthly-while the numberless torches, overpowered by the superior brightness of the fireworks, gave a dim and lurid light through their smoke, which, as there was not a breath of wind, hung over them.

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