'My lord, what you say is correct. His single voice is not to be dreaded, but, like a star of the first magnitude, he will come attended by a rabble of satellites, who receive his word as law. It will be policy, therefore, on your part, as soon as I am gone, to summon this fellow and secure him on our side; and rely on it for a bribe he will for once coincide with me on every point; only, on no account have any further communication with me previous to the assembly.'

'It shall be done, Mharaj; I see my way clearly, Brahmin. I thank thee. Farewell! and rely on my promises of reward.' Ay, my lord; remember the land, the cattle, and my rank and precedence.'

'All shall be as you desire.'

The Brahmin made his obeisance and retired.

Moye-ed-din, rejoicing in the success likely to attend his plans, dispatched a messenger for Ibn-al-Agib, for whom he had prepared a ponderous bag of rupees, imagining the sight of so much money would instantly bind the old fellow to his service. The messenger, however, returned with the mortifying intelligence of Ibn-al-Agib having been summoned by the Cotwall, in whose house he still remained.

'Am I ever to be thwarted by this Cotwall?' said Moye-ed-din, when the messenger had retired. 'Curse and confound his officiousness!'

He now repented his haste in dispatching the order upon which the Cotwall was now unquestionably acting. In the hope, if bribes had been offered to old Ibn-al-Agib, he might, by offering larger sums, secure his services, he dispatched another mes

senger to his house to await his return home, and then bring him to his presence. But hour after hour passed, and still he returned not; and every messenger was the bearer of the mortifying intelligence that Ibn-al-Agib had not returned home since his visit to the Cotwall. To account for this we must turn to the bazaar and the proceedings of the implacable Noor Mahommed, leaving the Deewan to retire to rest; it being midnight, and no chance of his having an interview with the Mahommedan astronomer before the next day.

69

CHAPTER VII.

RIVAL ASTROLOGERS.

It will be remembered that the messenger sent in quest of the Brahmin unfortunately met old Sheik Ibrahim, who, after confessing his ignorance of the Gúrú's abode, scampered down a narrow lane and disappeared. Satisfied there was some deep plan on foot, he hastened to his old master, the Cotwall, and made him acquainted with his bit of news, for which he was praised and rewarded. Noor Mahommed at first imagined the Deewan, unwilling to lay himself under obligations to him, was endeavouring to ferret out the astronomers himself. The haughty order of the Deewan being soon after put into his hands, he determined to obey it strictly, but in such a manner as he conceived would completely frustrate the schemes of his enemy; he therefore instantly summoned old Ibn-al-Agib, the Muntak; not that he had any instructions to give him, but to prevent the Deewan availing himself of his assistance by any underhand means, similar to those he might be employing with the Brahmin. Accordingly, the old fellow made his appearance, and was received with respect by the Cotwall, who informed him that he might presently require his aid; but as he was not then prepared to express his wishes, begged he would be seated, and hold himself in readiness to enter his

presence when required to do so.

The astronomer bowed assent,

and the Cotwall left him to his meditations.

Ibn-al-Agib, or the Son of the Wonderful, which was the pompous title this man was pleased to bestow on himself, was a Mahommedan of low origin, a native of Agra. His father had followed the profession of a pylewan, or wrestler, and from his great strength, and being also a skilful gladiator, was denominated Agib the Wonderful. Our astronomer was his only son (whose true name was Bappoo), a boy of a puny and weakly condition, which prevented his following his father's profession; he consequently commenced earning his livelihood by becoming monkeyleader to a company of snake-men and jugglers. The duties of his profession caused his entire separation from his father, whom he never either loved or respected. Amongst the company of strollers with whom he had connected himself was an outcast Hindoo, who had contrived to become acquainted with the names of the stars, and by their means pretended to inform the ignorant of the future events of their lives.

Young Agib, or rather Bappoo, from occasionally being the conjurer's boy, necessarily imbibed some of the conjurer's knowledge, and foretold eclipses of the sun and moon with tolerable accuracy. By the time his company reached Surat he had, he conceived, obtained sufficient knowledge to set up for himself; he accordingly deserted his former associates, and took a lodging in the most obscure part of the city. mained unnoticed and unknown.

For a length of time he reAt that particular period there

appeared an eager thirst for knowledge amongst all classes of

people, and it so happened that a Mahommedan astronomer hired

the upper apartments of the very house in which our aspiring youth had taken up his abode. He soon introduced himself to the notice of the new lodger, and through his acquaintance added greatly to his slender store of knowledge; but what tended to improve him most was his attending the astronomer to the weekly meetings of the cognoscenti of the age, where all their discoveries were made known to each other, and learned debates held on important subjects.

Ibn-al-Agib was now the name he chose to assume, carrying, he imagined, with it more weight than simple Bappoo. This Son of the Wonderful made up with cunning and duplicity of mind the deficiency of strength and activity of body, and through such means was he indebted for his advancement. One fine starlight night, as he was about to enter the apartment of his fellow-lodger, having gently half-opened the door, he discovered his friend standing at the window, engaged in scrutinising the starry canopy of heaven, and muttering to himself as if making some wonderful discovery, and yet as if doubting his own senses. 'Yes,' said he, 'it must be, it is, by Mahommed! 'tis a comet!' Ibn-al-Agib waited to hear no more, but sliding down stairs, gained the street, and placing himself in the most public situation, directed his whole attention to the quarter whence his friend had espied the comet. He was quickly surrounded with boys and men of all classes, and when he conceived enough had assembled to witness his great skill and quickness of perception he rushed from them, crying aloud, 'A comet, a comet! oh, glorious sight! I have discovered a comet.' His friend, the real discoverer of the phenomenon, hearing the cry of 'A comet!' looked out of the window, and perceived Agib running