CHAPTER XLII. Now o'er one-half the world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse Towards his design moves like a ghost. Macbeth, Act ii., Sc. 2. THE old man returned my salutations cordially; and when we were fairly seated, and the hookah had passed round, he related the sad history of the parents of the girl he had adopted. His version of the tale differed little from that of my new acquaintance; and indeed the whole affair appeared to have been as successful a piece of Thuggee as I had ever listened to. I wonder who they were, thought I; I will mention the story to my father; perhaps he may have heard of it, and can give me some clue to the boy whose fate is buried in uncertainty. Yet the lad may even now be among us; and as this thought flashed across my mind, a half conviction forced itself upon me that I was the man! But I checked it,-it was a foolish thought, such as one harbours sometimes upon the slightest cause, and dismisses after a moment's reflection. "And you never heard aught of them afterwards, nor of the boy?" I asked. 66 Never," said the old man ; "never; years have passed since then, and the lad, if he lives, is about your own age, Meer Sahib ; and-Ya Alla!" cried he, gazing on me, as a gust of wind caused the lamp to flare towards me, those features are familiar to me! -speak, man! thou art not the son of him who was murdered ?" 66 I confess that his earnest gaze and manner, with my previous convictions that the village was familiar to me, almost overpowered me; but I was too old an adept in deceit to be long staggered by a suspicion which he had no means of confirming, and I replied carelessly and with a laugh: 'No, no, that cannot be my father still lives, though my mother is dead; indeed I have but little remembrance of her. Besides we are pure syuds by descent, and reside in a distant country, and you spoke of your old friend as a pathan." "It cannot be, then," said the old man, turning away with an air of disappointment; "yet the resemblance is very striking, and I pray you, Meer Sahib, to pardon an old man's mistake; it may be that my eyes are failing me. Yet look at him, my son, and say, does he not resemble her?" "He does so, certainly," replied the other, "and I was struck with the similarity of features when I first saw him; but it must be imaginary, or it is perhaps one of those unaccountable resemblances which one often sees without being able to discover any cause why it should exist." "But you spoke of a coin," said I, "which you hold to be possessed of peculiar virtues." "I did, Meer Sahib, and my father will tell you that I have not overrated its efficacy." "Nor has he," said the other; many charms have I seen, but none equal to it. When around the neck of the wearer, no evil comes to her, no disease attacks her, and the eye of the malevolent or envious rests in vain upon her. Assuredly it possesses wonderful virtues, for if it is ever absent from her, she suffers from disease, or is unquiet in mind." "Alla ke Qoodrut!" I exclaimed; "it is the work of God. Such charms are indeed precious, and lucky is the possessor of them. I had once a son, he became the victim of an evil glance cast by a fakeer to whom alms were denied; he cursed my house, and the boy pined and died. I was absent from my home, and you may judge, sirs, of my agony when I arrived and learned my boy was dead. I have never been blessed with another; but a girl still survives, upon whom every care is lavished, and no charm is offered for sale by the wandering fakeers, Moslem or Hindoo, but it is eagerly purchased and hung around her neck. In this manner I have spent much money, but as yet without effect; for my child is delicate, and afflicted with dreams which disturb her rest and disquiet her gentle spirit; and I would to Alla I could become the possessor of some charm similar to the one you mention." "Keep a stout heart, Meer Sahib," said the old man ; you have bought your experience with sorrow, to be sure, yet a constant attention to the wants of the holy wanderers will no doubt have its effect in the end, and their prayers will be offered for the health of your child and her long life." 66 'May Alla listen to them!" said I fervently, for my heart was then with my child and my loved wife. I arose to take my leave, and as my new friend insisted on accompanying me to our camp, we walked thither. 66 "You will be ready, then, at the first dawn," observed I; we travel early for the sake of the cool morning air, and my companions bestir themselves as soon as the first blush of light spreads over the east." "Depend on me," said he, "I will not keep you waiting: we have a long stage before us.' He left me. I will have the charm, thought I, as I lay down to rest; my child shall be protected by its extraordinary virtue, and there will be an end of the constant searchings for amulets, which do no good, and cost much money. Besides, I could not bring Azeema a gift she would prize more highly, better far in her eyes than strings of pearls or costly jewels. Thus musing, my thoughts wandered to my home: my treasures were before me in imagination, and I compared this my wild and exciting life with the peaceful moments I enjoyed when I was there with them-Azeema lying beside me, and our child amusing us with her innocent gambols. The contrast was forcible, and appealed to my best feelings. I fell asleep; nor did I awake until the bustle of preparation for the journey warned me that it was time to rise. Having performed my ablutions, I repeated the morning prayer and thanksgiving, and issuing from my little tent, I saw the band was in readiness to move on; but my new acquaintance and his family were as yet not with us. "Shall we move on?" asked Laloo,--who was now my confidant, being the second of the bhuttotes,-as I stood near my horse, preparing to mount. "Not yet," said I; "I expect some bunij from the village; they promised not to be late, yet the day advances. Send some one to hurry them." "Ay, our friends of last night, I suppose, Meer Sahib. Of course we will wait for them, and I will send a fellow to quicken them; know you how many there will be to deal with ?" "Not I," I replied; "there are a man and his wife, but how many more I know not. We shall soon see, however." Our messenger returned almost immediately. "They come," said he; "I had not reached the village gate when I saw them issue forth." "And how many are there?" I asked. "There are two women on ponies, one old one on foot, and three men armed with sword and matchlock." "Six in all," said I. "Do you, Laloo, tell off the Bhuttotes; if we find a good place to-day I will give the jhirnee; if not, the business can be done to-morrow." "True, Meer Sahib," he replied; "but we had better put it off to-day. To tell you the truth, there was an objectionable omen this morning, and you know there is no need of risking anything." "Certainly not; we can send on the bélhas to-night, and things are best done which are conducted regularly." The village party now approached us, and salutations were exchanged. We stayed not, but pushed on at as rapid a pace as allowed the villagers to keep up with us; and we travelled thus to the end of the stage. I saw no likely place for the deed on our way, for the country was thickly peopled and the villages were close to each other. But I heard with inward satisfaction from my acquaintance, that the next march was through a lonely tract, and I was urged by him to be on the alert and careful, for that robbers were plentiful, and we might be attacked. They rested in our camp that day and night. I watched eagerly· to see, if it were possible, the face of the woman who bore the prize I so eagerly coveted, but I could not discern it: she was strictly secluded, or if she moved out of the temporary screen her husband had erected, she was enveloped in a thick wrapper, which defied my utmost attempts to discover her countenance. But she was mine, and I gloried in the thought that ere another day should pass over me, she would have fallen under my hand, and the charm would be mine also. You, sahib, will perhaps wonder at my eagerness to possess it; but you know us not, if you do. What mother is there in Hindostan, ay, or father, who does not covet a potent charm against the evil eye for his child or for his wife, far more than riches, nay the commonest necessaries or comforts of life? A child falls sick, the glance of some one is declared to have rested on it, ceremonies are performed without number, pepper is burned, mustard-seed placed in the room, and other things done which you would laugh at were I to relate them all; and hence comes the necessity of charms. Holy men are besought to give them, and are paid for them highly; fakeers are implored to pronounce mystic words over the suffering infant; and women will sell anything they possess, even their jewels, to purchase an amulet which is said to be efficacious. Sahib, I had lost one child; another, my sole offspring, was constantly ailing, and we were tormented by a thousand miserable anticipations regarding her. Within my reach was a sovereign remedy for all, so at least I firmly believed. Can you wonder at my eagerness, my impatience to possess it? Laloo came to me, and with him the chief of the bélhas. "We are to go on, I suppose, as soon as we can ?" said the latter. Certainly," replied I; "I hear the road lies through a lonely tract, which commences a few coss from here. See that you choose a good place, and that the grave will hold six bodies." "Jo hookum !" rejoined the fellow; "but I hope the information is correct about the road, and that it is not like the last stage, cultivated ground from first to last. I would have defied the best bélha that ever drew breath to have selected a spot free from a chance of interruption." "Rest content," said I; "the information is good, I had it from our fellow-travellers, who have passed that way a hundred times.' "Then I will start by sunset," continued he; "I suppose the nearer to this the place is selected, consistently with security, the better." "Certainly," said I. "Go; you have your leave." Midnight soon arrived; we had arisen and had proceeded about three coss on our way; we had passed every village, and entered on the desolate tract I have mentioned. The hot night-wind still sighed over the waste, and through the thorny bushes by which it was thinly covered. No sound broke the silence, save a shrill neigh from one of our baggage ponies at intervals, or the wild and melancholy note of the plover as it piped its wailing night-song to its mate, and was answered again from afar. Once or twice the half shriek, halfhowl of a hyæna might be heard, and so like was the cry to that of a wretch under the knife of an assassin, that my blood curdled in my veins as the sound thrilled through me. I rode on, first of the party, eagerly looking for the bélha, who should give me the welcome intelligence that the grave was ready, and that we were secure from interruption; nor had I long to wait for this. At a turning in the road I saw the trusty messenger seated; and as he espied me and arose, I hastened to meet him. "Bhil manjeh?" I asked in our slang language. 66 'Manjeh," was the reply; "'t is ready, Meer Sahib." "And how far, Gopal ?" Scarcely a cannon-shot from hence, a dry nulla with a sandy bed crosses the road; and a tributary streamlet's course, between high and narrow banks, was the best place we could find.” Good," said I, "you are always careful. Now keep near me, and hold my horse when I dismount; I have a share in this affair which I would not trust to another." I slackened my horse's pace, and the party soon overtook me. I stopped as they came up, and dismounted. 66 "A plague on these roads of yours, khan," said I to my acquaintance; my horse has lost a shoe, and his foot is somewhat tender; so I will walk a coss or two to ease him of my weight. Surely there cannot be much more of this stony track." "Not much; a coss or two perhaps; we ought to be near a dry nulla, if I am not mistaken, and from thence the next village is a coss and a half; after that the road is good." "Let the Meer Sahib ride on my tattoo," said a voice like music; "I am cramped and stiff, and I shall be glad to walk awhile." It was that of my victim! she who was to die under my hand ere a quarter of an hour elapsed. She must be beautiful with that voice, thought I; but I shall see. 66 'No, no, khan," said I, "that must not be; I am soldier enough to walk when I have no horse. Mashalla! my limbs are strong and supple, and I would not mind trying you at a long stage." "As you will, Meer Sahib, but you have only to say the word, and she dismounts. Alla knows 't is a small recompense for your safe protection over this dreary tract, which never man yet passed but |