The narrator folded his arms across his breast, in an attitude of quiet dignity. After just a moment's pause he continued:

"We were all born fighters, the members of my clan, for during hundreds of years many a swarming host had swept past the gateways of our territory, Persians, Arabs, Afghans, Moguls, Turkmans, hordes of fighting men of every race and tongue, sometimes marching south bent on conquest, at other times returning to their homes laden with rich spoils, and yet at other times defeated and broken, with enemies pressing at their heels. And it was the patrimonial right of our tribe to take toll from all alike, from victors and vanquished, from pursuers and pursued.

"Sometimes an army would pass through our mountains under safe conduct from all the tribes, and the price paid in money, horses, camels, and cattle, cloths and other goods, would be divided among the several clans. But in this practice there had grown to be more danger for ourselves than from forays or assaults on passing enemies, because over the division of the spoils there would be quarrelling, followed by fighting, among the tribes. Thus had originated many a blood feud enduring through many generations.

"In the early days of Shir Jumla Khan it had come about that several rich caravans had fallen exclusively into his hands. With the money thus provided by the bountifulness of Allah, he had been enabled to build for himself a citadel that for vastness and security surpassed those of all his rivals among the tribal chiefs. Within its wide walls were wells and water tanks, gardens for the growing of fruits and vegetables, warehouses for goods, granaries stored with barley, wheat, and dal, stables for a hundred horses, sheds for the housing of cattle, sheep, and camels, and dwelling places for a goodly multitude of armed men, their wives and their children. And all of these things endure until this day, for the fortress town amid the mountains built by my grandsire, The Tiger of the Pathans, has ever remained unconquered and unconquerable.

"But as Shir Jumla Khan grew rich in possessions and in power—for scores of fighting men from afar were attracted to his service—at the same time did his position among the tribesmen become one of increasing isolation. All feared him and envied him, and fear and envy have ever been breeders of hate. Yet was he a just and a benevolent man, honoured and beloved by every one within his domain, where his slightest word was gladly accepted law, not because of the might he wielded but because of his fairness to all men.

"I was yet a young man when a widely spread plot among the rival tribesmen to destroy Shir Jumla Khan's power had come to a head, and had resulted in a determined and prolonged attack upon his citadel. Numbers had told, our outlying fields had been devastated, our flocks and herds driven away, and crowded within the walls of the fortress were refugees from all the surrounding countryside. We had been cooped up through the summer, we had lost our annual crops, and without the usual replenishment granaries and warehouses were beginning to wear an empty look, with but sorry promise for the winter. But, calm and undismayed, his proud look and serene smile ever the same, Shir Jumla Khan continued to feed the hungry host within his gates and now absolutely dependent upon his protection.

"The coming of winter would mean for us some relief, for the first snows would scatter the beleaguering hosts, sending them back to their own valleys, and giving us the chance, in the intervals of the season's storms, to make a few forays on our own account on neighbouring communities, which, taken one at a time, would be pretty well at our mercy. But if we reasoned in this wise so did our enemies; for it was now toward the close of the month of August and redoubled efforts were being put forth to accomplish the breaching of our walls, so that The Tiger of the Pathans might be slain before there was the chance of his fangs and claws again becoming dangerous.

"The tribesmen, no doubt by capture and enforced service, had secured the help of some engineers versed in the methods of sieges and assaults on fortified places as practised in Hindustan. At that time I had never before seen a sabat, but now from our fortifications I beheld the gradual extension, day by day, of a broad covered way, with bull-hide roof stretched across the trench being dug, and effectually protecting the labourers below from our guns and muskets and catapults. We had made several sallies with a view to try and stop this work, but these had only resulted in losses on our side out of all proportion to the harassment and delay inflicted on the besiegers. So we could but impotently watch the subtle and inexorable approach of the skilled men who would eventually reach our walls, drive mines beneath them, and blow us to perdition.

"Our one chance lay in the question of time. If the winter began early we should be saved, but if the snows held off till late in the year it looked as if our doom must be sealed.

"But quite unexpectedly a ray of hope came from another quarter. Dissension had broken out in the ranks of our foes!

"The first word was brought to us by a deserter from the besiegers' camp, who one night had crept up to the gateway of the fort and whined for admittance, declaring that he had important news to tell and hoped for a reward.

"I was with my grandfather when, awakened from his sleep, he listened to the man's story. It told of a fierce quarrel the preceding evening between two of the leading chieftains. They had been conversing alone in one of their tents, when suddenly those without had heard angry words. Then it would seem that the owner of the tent had sent for one of the slippers which his visitor had left at the doorway, and with this had administered five or six strokes over the head, driving his guest forth insulted and disgraced. Every one in the camp was on the alert for fighting in the morning.

"With a grim smile Shir Jumla Khan listened to this narrative. But he made no comment; he merely issued instructions for the informer to be fed and for the present closely guarded.

"But if there had been any lingering doubt as to the truth of the story, confirmation came ere the breaking of the dawn. For we were once again disturbed from our rest, this time by the noise of a great tumult in the camp of the besiegers, loud shouting followed by the discharge of muskets, the sounds gradually dying away in the distance as if a fight and a pursuit had taken place. When day broke such indeed proved to be the case; we could descry in the camp a row of tents thrown down and dismantled, also dead or wounded men being brought in from the country beyond, while away on a distant ridge was a considerable body of tribesmen retreating toward their homes.

"At this sight joyful huzzas resounded through the fortress, and we did indeed all feel that Allah, by disrupting the forces of the enemy, was fighting on our side. And as I spread my prayer carpet, and prostrated myself toward Mecca, the pious thought in my heart was one that had many times been inculcated by my noble grandsire himself: 'Let the wise man reflect that he can in no way succeed without the help of God Most High.'

"During the day we took counsel as to the advisability of an attack on the somewhat attenuated host without the walls. But from our posts of observation we could see that every one in the camp was under arms and on the alert, no doubt foreseeing that such an attempt was likely on our part. So we concluded to let events develop, and contented ourselves with watching the progress of the sabat. Here there was no relaxation of endeavour, for the protected trench made a considerable advance ere the sun once again sank over the western hills.

"Darkness had not long fallen when another bleating voice of a suppliant for admittance was heard by the sentry at the gateway. Introduced to our presence, the newcomer, a goatherd by his appearance, and with the signs of travel on his garments, removed his head dress, untwisted the long locks of hair bound according to custom around his head, and, producing a small packet from the midst of his tresses, flung it on the floor. I picked up the missive, and handed it to our chieftain.

"Shir Jumla Khan untied the packet, and produced therefrom a heavy gold signet ring. While he was examining this, the seeming goatherd raised his voice:

"'O prince of princes, protector of the poor and oppressed, by the token in your hands know that I who wear this humble disguise am the son of Mustafa Khan, thy brother chieftain, who craves a refuge within the walls of this God-guarded citadel. I am empowered to propose terms which will bring substantial reward for you and sure deliverance from the pack of wolves yelping at your gates.'

"The youth soon convinced us that he was none other than he claimed to be, an additional guarantee to the possession of the ring being afforded by the full and detailed messages which he brought from his father. At the council which followed I was privileged to be present. The son of Mustafa Khan first recounted the story we already knew, of the deadly insult inflicted on his father, and then told briefly the tale of the morning flight and fight. His fleeing clansmen were now concealed in a gorge not a mile away, some two hundred fighting men, and would be glad to join their forces with those of Shir Jumla Khan, so that they might wipe out the stain of the dishonour they had suffered. If the gates were opened to them, they would come to the citadel that very night.

"But, watching my grandfather's face, I could see him smiling through his beard.

"'I want no more mouths to feed, young man,' replied The Tiger of the Pathans. 'But take this message to your sire. Let him come here, alone and unattended, and thus serve as a hostage for his own good faith. Then shall we two together concert a plan whereby an attack by his men from the other side of the camp will be made at the same moment as a sortie by my men on this side, so that together we shall crush our common enemy as we would break a nut between two stones. I have spoken.'

"'But my mother,' faltered the youth, 'and my sister? They and two women attendants are with my father, and he cannot leave them alone and unprotected.'

"Shir Jumla Khan stroked his beard; the appeal was one that reached his benignant heart.

"'How could they come here?' he asked, addressing the young man.

"'We have a camel with panniers. In that they escaped from the camp last night. I myself could lead them hither.'

"'Then in the name of God let the women too come into this place of refuge. You and your father, and the camel with the panniers, will be admitted, if you can reach the gates before the breaking of the dawn.'

"'And a place of seclusion for the ladies?'

"'What need to ask that?' exclaimed my grandsire, abruptly and angrily. 'I will show the respect to Mustafa Khan's women which I should expect him to show to mine. A house will be got ready ere you return.'

"And he waved the youth from his presence.

"I was at the gateway in the grey of the morrow's dawn when the fugitives arrived—Mustafa Khan, a big burly figure wrapped in his camel robe, the son still in the garments of a goatherd, and, led by him, a camel from the back of which was slung panniers for women, one on each side, enveloped in the usual coverings that safeguarded those within from forbidden eyes.

"But although, both out of proper respect for women and in duty toward our guests, I had not attempted to look at the camel or its burden, having indeed inclined my head downward as the animal passed, yet as I again raised my eyes did I involuntarily catch sight of a dainty white hand and the gleam, through momentarily parted curtains, of a beautiful face—that of a young girl, fair as a lily, sweet and innocent as the half-opened blossom of a rose. And methought that, in her very childlike innocence, as our eyes met for a single instant, she smiled into mine ere she gathered together the curtain that hid the vision of loveliness from my ravished gaze.

"My heart was hammering against my breast as I watched the father and the brother, with the swaying camel, disappear under the archway of a building sheltered by the encompassing wall of the fortress. This I knew had been designated as the home of the refugees during their stay among us, but never had I imagined that such a treasure was to be bestowed in so rough a casket.

"All that day Mustafa Khan and my grandfather remained in close and secret conclave. Again I occupied my time by watching the approaching sabat. The work was progressing quicker than ever. At this rate, within two or three days the covered trench would be within a short stone throw of the fortress walls. After the evening meal I reported this position of affairs to Shir Jumla Khan.

"He only smiled gently at me.

"'Rest easy in your mind,' he said. 'Everything is understood and arranged between me and Mustafa Khan. On the day after to-morrow our enemies will be delivered into our hands.'

"But that night sleep would not come to my eyes. The face of the beautiful girl haunted me, and a great longing came over me to behold her again. I even began to hope that the conjoining of our fortunes might bring the damsel to me, to be the joy of my life and the pride of my future home. Already I was framing in my heart the sentences wherewith I would plead my cause after the battle was over, both with my grandsire and with Mustafa Khan. And I vowed that, in the fighting to come, I would do some deed of daring that would surely win the girl's father to my side.

"Meanwhile I wandered around the battlements, and half unconsciously I found myself on the walls at a place that surmounted the house which sheltered my beloved, with her mother and their women attendants, God is my witness, but I had no thought of profane prying, contrary alike to the laws of the Prophet and to the laws of hospitality. But my eyes fell on a beam of light coming from a tiny window niched deep down in a recess of the building. And even as I saw this, there came to my ears a faint, regular sound—a muffled 'tap, tap, tap.' Instantly every fibre of my being was in a quiver.

"I know not what instincts guided me—to burst asunder the bonds both of conventionality and of religion that might have restrained me, to make suspicion of some vague unseen danger stifle within my breast every tender thought of awakening love. But in my surge of excitement love and faith were alike forgotten. I ran from the walls, and without consulting anyone returned but a few minutes later with a coil of rope in my hands. To fasten this to one of the parapets, to tie a few knots at intervals so as to give me handhold and foothold—all this was the work of another minute or two. Then, slowly and cautiously, hand under hand, I was descending into the well-like recess toward the one tiny shaft of light that pierced its black darkness.

"'Tap, tap, tap'—the mysterious sound grew more and more distinct as I dropped down and down. Then, all of a sudden, the playing of a zither and the full-throated song of a woman smote my ears, and I arrested my descent. Almost could I have climbed back again, unseeing and ashamed. But in a brief momentary interlude in the music I heard, loud and unabashed now, the steady 'thump, thump, thump' as of a hammer, and straightway I knew that the song and its accompaniment were but part of some devilish plot—a means devised to muffle the sound of the other operations, whatever these might be. In another moment I was abreast of the window, small as a loophole for musketry, but all-sufficient for my requirements, I had the rope twisted around my leg, and, secure against slipping, I craned forward to peer inside.

"My irreverent eyes fell on no woman's face—the music was floating upward from an adjoining chamber. But in the room into which I gazed was a strange sight—four men stripped to the waist and toiling for all the world like diggers of a well. The flagstones of the floor had been torn up, and a great hollow cavern had been dug below. From this cavity two of the figures were passing up baskets of mud and gravel, into the hands of Mustafa Khan himself, who was bestowing the material around the walls of the room. The fourth man, also in the pit that had been dug, was tapping a long iron crowbar into a hole that had evidently been pierced in the soft ground in the direction of the fortress wall.

"I knew little enough about engineering in those days, but it needed only common sense for me to realize that the miscreant Mustafa had betrayed our hospitality for no other purpose than to breach the walls of the citadel. If there had been women in one pannier there had been men in the other, and, to balance the camel's load, there had been powder and tools for the nefarious task, the crowning achievement, no doubt, of an elaborate conspiracy.

"But I lost no time then in trying to piece together the details of the scheme. It was action that was needed now. So, just as silently and cautiously as I had descended, I climbed back again by my rope and regained the battlements. I paused just for a moment to listen to the sweeping chords of the zither, played by no unskilled hand, and to the rich notes of the woman's voice swelling into the midnight air. Then I gathered the rope in my arms, and sought the sleeping quarters of my grandfather.

"The old Tiger of the Pathans, as I knew well, was prepared to be aroused at any hour of the night. Even his tulwar was buckled to his belt when, in answer to my summons, he stepped forth into the outer chamber. He listened to my eager story, peering at me the while from beneath his shaggy eyebrows. But not even the twitching of a muscle in his face betrayed surprise.

"At the close of my narrative he laid a kindly hand on my shoulder.

"'O son of my dead son,' he said gravely, 'if what you have seen to-night be not a dream, then have you done me great service. But go now and sleep, and prepare yourself for what is to come. Rest assured, more than ever before, that Allah is on our side, and that, even as I said to you last night, our enemies are being delivered into the hollow of our hands.'

"But sleep still refused to come to me that night. The call for morning prayer found me wide awake, turning over in my mind the many perplexities of the situation. Had the quarrel in the camp of our adversaries been nothing but a cunning pretence, the fight among the tribesmen before the dawn a mere sham, even the gathering in of the supposed dead and wounded an artful deception for our eyes, all contrived so that this devil of devils, Mustafa Khan, should gain access to the citadel with skilled sappers and mining munitions? And was the youth who had played the part of a goatherd really a son of the man, or a serpent-tongued liar, a chosen master of craft whose seeming guilelessness had helped to delude us? It had been a crude first idea on his part to suggest the admission as refugees of a swarm of armed men, but, when this had failed, there had been glib readiness with the other and more subtle plan that had so nearly succeeded. And as I reflected on these things, I marked the young hypocrite for my own particular prey.

"During the morning hours I was surprised to see the two khans, guest and host, betrayer and betrayed, walking around the gardens in seeming amity. But after a time my grandsire beckoned me to his side.

"'This is a grandson of mine,' he said, presenting me to Mustafa Khan. 'He has reported to me that the sabat is approaching too close to your present quarters, and that any explosion would endanger the members of your household.'

"I saw the traitor pale under the quiet eye of The Tiger of the Pathans.

"'There will be no explosion to-day,' he stammered.

"'You seem to be fully and precisely acquainted with the plans of our enemies. Nay, do not draw that sword by your side, Mustafa Khan. Look behind you, man.'

"With haggard face now, Mustafa turned round. It was to see half a dozen pikes pointed at his ribs. At a signal from their master a guard had noiselessly drawn near.

"'You know what to do, jemadar,' said the old Tiger to the officer in charge. There was a vicious smile now on his face, such as I had never seen there before and never saw again—a savage curling of the upper lip that showed the white fangs of the relentless hunting animal.

"And, prodded by the encircling spikes, Mustafa Khan went to his doom—calmly and proudly erect, be it said, for a Pathan always knows how to die with dignity and resignation to the will of God. Nor must we forget that he was a brave man, for in coming to the citadel he had boldly ventured his life on a desperate chance, and perfidy in the game of war brings shame only when it meets with discomfiture. Peace be with his soul!

"My grandsire and I were now alone.

"'You will let me fight that crawling snake, his son?' I cried, with a gesture of appeal.

"'He is already carrion for the vultures,' was the reply. 'He was no son of Mustafa Khan, just a low-born hireling schemer, and it needed only a prod of the dagger to make him betray the whole plot, and whine for the mercy which I would have scorned myself to bestow. The two skilled sappers are still mining—under my directions this time. We shall make a feint of a sally to-morrow morning at the hour prearranged by Mustafa Khan with the tribesmen outside. But it is the sabat and its occupants that will be blown into the sky, and not my good stout walls'—this last with the old familiar smile, stern but pleasant to look upon.

"'And the girl who sang?' I ventured, falteringly.

"'She is safe in the protection of my home. On her rests no blame, for in the part she played she was but obeying her father's bidding. Now, that is all for the present. Keep your own counsel, and be with me to-morrow at the dawn.'

"And with the dawn came the swarm of Mustafa Khan's clansmen, running eagerly toward the opened gateway of the fort, with their fellow conspirators shouting and shooting and waving their swords in pretended pursuit. But just within the entrance were ranged a dozen guns and arquebuses on swivels, loaded to their muzzles with slugs of iron. And almost at the same moment as the rain of death mowed down the onrushing horde, a great explosion shook the earth outside, and the fragments of a hundred bodies blown from the sabat by our countermine filled the air. Then indeed did our men-at-arms, footmen and horsemen, sally forth to pursue with sword and spear their scattered and dismayed enemies, sending scores to their deaths and the survivors scampering to their dens among the mountains.

"And none ever again dared to attack my grandsire, The Tiger of the Pathans."

* * * * *

With a proud smile the Afghan surveyed his audience. No one ventured to question him, yet there was a look of unsatisfied curiosity on more than one face.

"Oh, yes," laughed the soldier, lightly, "I heard the fair zither player and singer again—often again—in my own home."



VII. HER MOTHER LOVE

TOLD BY THE PHYSICIAN

By general although unspoken assent, the eyes of all the company were now directed to the venerable hakeem, as if to invite from him the next contribution to the night's entertainment. Meditatively for a moment the man of medicine stroked the broad white beard that descended almost to his girdle, and then began:

"Familiar to us all is the thought that death is but a birth into another state of existence, whether that state be the eternal paradise which is the final goal of every man's hopes, or merely another stage thitherward. Death is a birth, the truth of which will more forcibly appeal to our minds when we reflect also that birth is a death."

"How can that be, except for the still-born?" queried the astrologer.

The hakeem raised a hand deprecating the interruption.

"Nay, follow me in my argument," he continued quietly. "If death is a birth, then is a birth truly death. For the babe has been living through a prior stage of existence. To it the nine months passed in its mother's womb may have meant a long span of life. For time is but a relative term, and, measured against eternity, the whole period of man's sojourn on earth, be it three score or four score years, is but as the puff of a single breath. So the child in the womb lives there a full span of existence; it is nurtured and it grows, it sleeps and it wakes, it lies passive and it disports itself, it is sensitive to cold and to heat, to thirst and to hunger, and God alone knows what it thinks and what mental impressions it forms of the existence through which it is passing. And the hour of its birth is truly the hour of its death, for in pain and travail it is plucked from its warm and comfortable surroundings, and with the shock of physical change and unseeing dread it cries aloud in sharp anguish. Thus precisely do we ourselves die when we pass from this world to another existence, physically and mentally resenting the harsh change, terrified because of our very ignorance of what is really happening."

The physician paused, amid a deep hush that bore eloquent testimony to the impressiveness of the thought to which he had given utterance.

"But the parallel does not end here," he resumed.

"When the infant is born, then for the first time does it see face to face the divinity who through all the preceding stage of its existence has protected it, warmed it, and nourished it. In the presence of its mother it is in the presence of the God who has hitherto enveloped it, wholly and completely, in His own divine being. So when we die will we be face to face with the now unseen God who everywhere encompasses us, beholding Him at first only with the dazzled vision and dim half-consciousness of the new-born babe, but growing to know Him and to love Him as we have all known and loved the devoted mothers who bore us. For mother love is man's first foretaste of God love, the full glory of which we shall comprehend only when by death we are born into a higher and more spacious sphere of existence."

There was another brief interval of silence, again unbroken by any comment from the auditors. Then the hakeem continued in lighter tone:

"Now let me point my moral by telling you a story of a mother's supreme devotion for her son.

* * * * *

"At one time I practised my profession in the capital city of a state ruled over by a maharajah, who, although he had been a brave and honourable man in his prime, had degenerated into a mere voluptuary, spending his days in the companionship of nautch girls and disreputable men, indulging constantly in immoderate potations of strong wine, and given at times to the use of bhang, which does more than anything else to dull the faculties and deaden the conscience of the unfortunate who surrenders himself to its seductive spells. The inevitable results were for him the premature loss of health and strength, and for his people misrule, extortion and widespread unhappiness.

"It happened that, after several Hindu physicians had failed to restore their royal master from a fainting spell, I, a Moslem, was summoned in haste to the palace. I carried with me a small jar containing a certain pungent liquid, which I applied to the nostrils of my patient, with the result that he was straightway brought back from seeming death to consciousness of his surroundings. I take no special credit for effecting this recovery, but the maharajah himself deemed me to be a veritable worker of miracles, and, dismissing all his other doctors, kept me thenceforth constantly by his side. From the first I knew, by his trembling limbs and enfeebled condition, that death had marked him for its own; but I could, at least, prepare aromatic drinks to mitigate his pains and saffron meats to drive out the evil spirits that possessed him.

"Thus did it come about that I gained the confidence of the maharajah, and when it happened that one of his favourite wives had fallen into a decline, and had begged for the services of a physician, the honourable trust of ministering to her needs was confided to me. My examination of the invalid was in accordance with the usual restrictions. Accompanied by the feeble old maharajah himself, I was conducted to an apartment across which a heavy curtain was suspended. After an interval of waiting, the rustle of silken garments behind the purdah, followed by the gentle sigh of a woman, told me that my patient had arrived. It was the husband himself who bade her thrust her tongue through an orifice in the curtain. My inspection of this member revealed no internal disorder, and I requested from my master permission to touch the lady's hand so that I might feel the pulsing of the blood in her veins. Not too willingly he ordered her to push her arm through the opening.

"It was a dainty white hand, with many jewelled rings upon the taper fingers, and the nails, as with all ladies of quality, dyed the deep orange red of henna. Although I knew well that the jealously watchful eyes of her lord were upon me, I made no hesitancy in encompassing the wrist with my own fingers. But the little hand within mine was clenched tight, and, the better to conduct my examination, I freed my fingers from her wrist so as to straighten out hers as I required them. When I attempted to do this, however, I was conscious of some resistance and then of the presence of a small packet concealed in the palm of her hand. With a flash of comprehension I knew that the package must be intended to be conveyed to me surreptitiously, and, with no thought at that critical moment of what the ulterior object might be, I aided the act by a deft movement of my shoulder, which for a moment intercepted the maharajah's gaze.

"In another second he could see my finger-tips lightly pressed on her wrist, and her empty hand extended; but the package was safe in my other hand, and not the quiver of a muscle on my face betrayed that anything unusual had happened. Both to mask my feelings, and to give the lady behind the curtain confidence that she could repose trust in my discretion, I counted the pulse beats aloud.

"These indeed told me that the heart of my patient was beating at a mad gallop, but this I divined was simply caused by the daring deed she had essayed and successfully accomplished. I deemed it wise and prudent, however, to announce that the lady was suffering from a fever, and that I would send her a powder that would speedily restore her to good health. At this the maharajah was sufficiently overjoyed to permit of my withdrawal without obvious embarrassment. I had a smile upon my lips, and the secret package secure in the folds of my girdle. A chuprassi accompanied me to my home to bring back the medicine.

"I knew, of course, that it was only a dry powder that this high-born Hindu lady could take from my dispensary, for to have swallowed a liquid drug would have been a violation of her caste. I took pains to let the chuprassi see that my hands did not touch the powder, which, after due weighing, I bestowed in a paper carefully sealed, instructing him to deliver it to no one but his highness the maharajah. It was only finely ground sugar that the man carried away. But perhaps this is a harmless little trick of my profession which even now I should not disclose."

But a general smile among the company showed the hakeem that his calling was held in no undue reverence, at least by those without present need of his ministrations.

"When I was alone with my mortars and my drugs," resumed the narrator, "I lost no time in examining the mysterious packet. I unwound the silk threads that tightly tied it, both to restrict its bulk and to render it secure. Soon, to my amazement, I uncovered a string of ten pearls, of a size and lustrous purity that bespoke a high value even to my untutored eyes. Also there was a little seal of red chalcedony, with the antlered head of a deer and some scroll of lettering engraved upon it; but there was not one scrap of writing to explain to me the reason of these gifts.

"Had the lady, as often happens, imagined herself to be seriously sick, and devised this plan of invoking my interest and most skilful services on her behalf? But why, then, the seal, the value of which was quite insignificant?

"Even as I was pondering these questions, there came a clapping of hands at the gateway of my home that announced the arrival of a visitor. Hastily concealing the pearls and the seal in my girdle, I stepped forth into the outer court and took my seat upon the divan.

"Straightway there was ushered into my presence a big man clothed in rich garments. His sable complexion and thick lips declared him to be a moorman from across the seas, and his beardless chin further told at a glance that he was an attendant at the seraglio of some rich noble.

"He salaamed me with the cool confidence of his kind, and, without waiting for an invitation, seated himself on the carpet at my feet.

"'My name, O learned hakeem, is Malik Kafur,' he began in the shrill treble voice I had anticipated, 'and you know why I come here.'

"As my knowledge had been taken for granted, I bowed in acquiescence.

"'But her highness said that you would first of all show me her signet so as to prove that you are acting with her authority.'

"With all due gravity I produced the chalcedony seal from my belt, and, without quitting hold, extended it for my visitor's inspection. There was a swift gleam of recognition in his eyes.

"'That is right,' he murmured.

"'Then proceed,' I said, quietly. 'You can speak in the fullest confidence.'

"'I have promised the maharanee that to-morrow, when the fourth of the day is over, I shall conduct her into the bazaars. She bade me explain her plans precisely, so that you in turn should know how to act. Well, her highness will be, as usual, in her palankeen slung between two mules. When we turn from the coppersmiths' bazaar into the secluded bazaar where the money changers dwell, the two grooms in charge of the mules will be assailed by budmashes and beaten with sticks. I, too, will be knocked down and my clothes torn; but do not worry on my account.'

"I gave a cheerful nod to signify that his anxiety on this score might be set at rest.

"'It will devolve on you to have two men ready to take advantage of the confusion of the scuffle and lead away the mules with the palankeen, conducting the maharanee to a place which she herself will indicate. This you understand?'

"'I understand.'

"'At night, when I shall come to you again, under cover of the darkness, you will pay over to me the agreed-upon price—the ten pearls which her highness has placed in your custody.'

"'They are here,' I assented, holding aloft the little string of pearls, the purpose they were intended to serve at last made clear to my understanding.

"The eyes of the negro flashed with cupidity, and he reached forth a big, fat, black hand.

"'I can be trusted to do my share of the task,' he said, eagerly. 'To save trouble, let me be paid now.'

"'Not so, thou slave,' I replied, curtly and with authority, as I returned the pearls to their place of safe-keeping. 'The price will be paid when the service is performed. To-morrow night you will be admitted, Malik Kafur, if you knock three times at my gate.'

"The fellow rose to his feet, with a servile and submissive smile, and, by a wave of my hand, I dismissed him from my presence.

"Here, indeed, was an adventure thrust upon me, a man of peace and of studious habits, who had ever shrunk from deeds of violence; but the hand of fate was clearly beckoning me along the path of duty, and not for a moment did I shrink from the dangers into which, perchance, I was being hurried.

"For the maharajah, worthless, besotted, and on the verge of dishonoured death, I could have no respect. For the lady of his household, who was confiding to me her very life, whose soft hand I had touched with due reverence, there was an instinctive feeling of sympathy. In her hour of dire need, most likely of extreme danger, she had turned to me, a man of staid repute and old enough, no doubt, to be her father. So this was no affair of conjugal wrong, from which my religious scruples and my abiding principles alike, would have repelled me. Clearly was I the instrument in God's directing hand for some great happening, and it was not for me, through thought of self or cowardice, to interpose obstacles to the carrying out of the divine will.

"And as I thus ruminated there came from a minaret close by the call to evening prayer. 'The world is but an hour,' I murmured to myself as I spread my carpet; 'spend it in devotion, the rest is unseen.'

"On the morrow I was astir even before the morning call to prayer. 'Prayer is better than sleep'—I listened to the familiar cry of the muezzin. But while again I prayed I felt that a good deed done may count more for a man at the gates of Paradise than the record of many prayers.

"Full an hour before the appointed time I was at the corner of the coppersmiths' and the money-changers' bazaars. Here I posted two of my retainers, in whom I could place complete confidence. They had already been instructed how to act when the proper moment arrived. For myself, I sauntered through the crowded and noisy bazaar of the makers and menders of copper vessels, so as not to attract undue attention. In my heart was not one flutter of excitement or of uncertainty: I felt the quiet confidence which in the crises of life comes to a man whose trust in God the Most High is implicit.

"After a period of waiting there came into sight the huge black moorman, in his hand a white wand of office, and, following close behind him, a brilliantly decorated palankeen suspended between a pair of mules and attended by two grooms, leading the animals. The throng had parted before this little procession, averting their eyes from the covered palankeen, as was beseeming.

"But suddenly, at the intersection of the two bazaars, a group of loiterers sprang forward, and with cries assailed the moorman and the grooms, turning the mules into the quieter thoroughfare. There I had now posted myself, and, while the shopkeepers ran up the street to see what had befallen, the cavalcade under my directions, and with my attendants at the animals' heads, hurried along, and as we threaded our way through the maze of streets the tumult of voices soon died away behind us.

"After a little time I ventured to approach the curtained palankin.

"I spoke just loud enough to be heard by its occupant:

"'May your day, O queen, be peaceful! Your servant, most humble and devoted, awaits your orders.'

"'Peace be to thee, O thou trustful and brave hakeem. Take me to the protection of thy wife and home.'

"It was a soft, melodious woman's voice that had spoken, tremblingly, imploringly, and yet withal in a tone of authority.

"'As thou hast commanded, so shall it be done,' was my brief reply.

"After a little time the cavalcade, without any undue attention being attracted, had passed through the gateway of my home, and the doors had been barred behind us.

"To my surprise a gallant youth, some twelve years of age, sprang through the momentarily parted curtains of the palankeen.

"'I salute thee, O hakeem, our deliverer,' he exclaimed, kissing the hem of my robe. 'My royal mother is in the palankeen, and craves for sanctuary in your zenana.'

"'Let her pass,' I replied, and I urged the docile mules toward the second archway that led to the women's courtyard.

"At my bidding the inner gates opened, and they closed again when the palankeen had entered.

"'Within is sanctuary for your royal mother, and here is sanctuary for yourself, O prince,' I continued, with a profound obeisance, for, despite the modest garments he wore, I had recognized the eldest royal son of the maharajah, whom I had seen several times in his father's presence, and on one occasion at an affair of state clad in a robe of honour of silk and gold brocade, festoons of jewels around his neck, and a tiny sword with scabbard of gold girt at his side.

"Having once more impressed secrecy on my attendants, and bidding them give admission to no one, I led my young guest into an inner reception room. There, in a few concise sentences, he told me his story.

"A plot had been hatched in the royal zenana that, just so soon as the maharajah died, this youth, and seven or eight younger brothers, sons of other wives, should be slain, so that the undisputed succession might descend on one particular son, elder by several years, but not in the regular line of succession because born of a slave mother. It was this slave woman's brother who commanded the maharajah's bodyguard, and, in collusion with his sister, had conceived the damnable conspiracy. Only by the whisper of a woman who was close to the officer, but whose heart was tender, had the mother of the young heir to the throne been warned. With my aid, and that of the eunuch who had visited me the day before, they had made their escape, the youth having been hidden in the palankeen of his mother before the latter left the seraglio on one of her occasional visits to the bazaars.

"Such was the story. Now the future had to be planned, for up to this point the maharanee had acted blindly and impulsively—just swiftly—the moment she had realized the supreme danger for her son. In the boy I found high courage and a clear brain, and together we devised the measures to be followed that would best allay suspicion as to the whereabouts of the fugitives.

"As a first step I sallied forth as usual to pay my professional visit on the maharajah a little before the noontide hour. Perhaps I felt that, if by any chance suspicion had already alighted upon me, I was taking my life in my hands by entering the palace; but, trusting to the protection of Allah, I gave no second thought to any fear of this kind.

"I had not yet reached the palace gates when I encountered a messenger running in hot haste to summon me. His highness the maharajah had been seized with a fit, and the whole palace was in a turmoil.

"When I gained the royal apartment I saw at a glance that the sufferer was beyond human aid. I could but watch the deep laboured breathing, growing ever fainter and fainter, until the death-rattle in the throat proclaimed the end.

"During that hour of watching my soul had been gravely perturbed, not because of the dying debauchee, but in dread of sinister happenings in the royal zenana when the news of the maharajah's demise should come to be announced. But how was I to give warning without betraying to certain death the youth and his mother who had sought sanctuary in my defenceless home? For there, at the door of the sick room, stood the captain of the king's bodyguard, Todar Rao, the very man who, I knew, held his corrupt soldiery in leash for any villainy.

"Another high officer of the court, the diwan, had shared my vigil in the death chamber, and just before the end came had informed me that it was news of an attack by budmashes on one of the royal palankeens that morning in the bazaars that had inflicted the fatal stroke upon his master. But this treasurer was an aged man, who would have quailed under the eye of the stern and relentless soldier keeping watch and ward at the doorway, and, for all I knew, he, too, might be in the conspiracy—indeed, his furtive glances and the nervous twitching of his hands forewarned me of this danger.

"Surrounded by uncertainties, and utterly helpless in my isolation, I could but drift whither the stream of destiny carried me.

"'The king is dead,' I announced, when the last flutter of the heart had ceased. 'May God in His compassion give him peace.'

"The diwan summoned the captain of the bodyguard, and the latter, to make certainty doubly sure, brutally shook the dead man by the shoulder. I could see the savage gleam of satisfaction on his face when he threw from him the already stiffening arm. The two men, in close conclave, hastened from the chamber, and when the attendants set up the accustomed cries of wailing I profited by the clamour and confusion to slip discreetly from the palace and gain my own home.

"The terrible events of the next few days were, alas! just the same as have befallen a hundred times on the passing of a king. The outside world knew few details, but the news from the palace current in the bazaars was that all the sons of the late maharajah had perished excepting only the eldest. And this youth, although the whisper passed freely that he was merely the son of a slave woman, duly ascended the throne.

"Revolt by some of the nobles over such an indignity might come later on. But meanwhile, at all events, the show of military power quelled all opposition, while a judicious remission of taxes pleased the general populace, and indeed caused them joyfully to acclaim the new maharajah as he made a triumphal procession through the city, mounted on an elephant caparisoned with cloth of gold and bedecked with silver chains and bells, preceded by priests and the dancing girls of the temples, and surrounded by troops, both horsemen and foot soldiers.

"Only I and the members of my household knew that the rightful heir to the throne was alive and in safe hiding. For the moorman had never come to claim his string of pearls, and it was not until some days later that I had learned of his having been summarily dispatched by order of the dead maharajah, in the latter's first paroxysm of anger over the abduction of his favourite wife when visiting the bazaars. In this opportune removal of a greedy hireling and possible traitor I once more recognized the hand of Providence working for the noble woman whose quick wit had aided mother love to save her son.

"A noble woman I have called her, and such indeed she was. For me the maharanee had discarded the purdah, and in the sanctity of my harem, with my wife as her devoted attendant, I was privileged to converse with her hour after hour, gazing freely upon the most beautiful countenance I had ever beheld—beautiful not only by reason of soft and rounded features and the peach bloom of the skin, but also because of the soul-lit eyes that illumined it with joyous radiance. For this queen lived in her son, forgot every other sorrow in his safety, and now experienced all the glowing pride of a leader on the field of battle in planning the campaign for the vindication of his rightful claims to the royal inheritance.

"Her first step had been to send secret word to her father—she was the daughter of a mountain chieftain—bidding him to dispatch one of her brothers to me as a trusted messenger. The distance was far, and three months elapsed before the hillman arrived, a sturdy young fellow, serene of eye, slow of speech, and muscled like a panther. He departed back home again, carrying our tale by simple word of mouth for greater security, and having concealed on his person some of the gems which the maharanee had saved and which would be readily convertible into money. Then, after a second interval of time, other tribesmen came sifting into the city by twos and threes, until we had full fifty of the finest material for a bodyguard a young prince could desire. These men were quartered at different places in the vicinity of my home, armed and ready for a general muster when the moment should be ripe for action.

"Meanwhile a widespread spirit of dissatisfaction with the new raj was daily growing, and on every hand in the bazaars mutterings of trouble began to be heard. The young ruler had proved to be a mere puppet in the hands of his mother and uncle, who had not hesitated to advance their base-born relatives and associates to places of highest honour and emolument, thereby giving grievous offence among the families of proud and ancient lineage, both Hindu and Moslem, which had hitherto supplied the principal officers of state and had been the real buttresses of the throne. Then, to fill full the measure of discontent, came ominous rumours that the prince, although still a mere youth, had, like his father, become addicted to the use of bhang and strong wines, and, encouraged by a worthless following, was abandoning himself to all manner of expensive debauchery. And when at last the screw of heavily increased taxation gave proof to these stories the first timid whispers of displeasure among the populace swelled to sullen and continuous murmuring.

"For the true queen mother and her son the hour of destiny was approaching!

"But, although the embers of revolt were ready to burst into flame at the first fanning of a breeze, Todar Rao, now sirdar in command of the whole army, still dominated the situation. At his slightest word the mercenary soldiery under his control would have rushed into the bazaars with sword and torch, like ravening wolves among sheep helpless to defend themselves. As for the nobles, each surrounded by his own bodyguard, they were torn into rival factions, the one jealously watching the other lest open revolt should be made the excuse for usurpation of the throne by the strongest and best prepared among them.

"In these circumstances it would have been fatal to let word go forth prematurely that the rightful heir was alive, for disappointed ambitions among the feudal lords might have become an added danger to the fury of the sirdar. But any prolonged delay would also be disastrous, for it was only now that the boy prince would be recognized and received as the undoubted heir to his father's throne; a few years later he would, to a certainty, be looked at askance as a mere pretender—a pawn in the game of some unscrupulous king-maker playing for his own aggrandizement.

"It was the maharanee who devised the bold stroke which involved undoubted danger yet promised the best chance of success. Her idea was to take the whole court unawares at one and the same moment, so that the nobles might have presented to them, not only a common rallying-point for loyalty, but the chance by united action to break for all time the hated military power of the slave-born sirdar.

"It was the appointed day when the recently installed maharajah, according to custom immemorial, was to be publicly weighed, and the gold he counterbalanced distributed in charity. In the great courtyard of the palace all the people were assembled, nobles and officers of state, soldiers and traders, rich and poor, among the latter the halt, the blind and the maimed, the deformed and the leprous, in pitiful evidence as fitting objects for a share of the promised bounty. On a raised dais, seated upon a throne covered with cloth of gold, and sheltered by a canopy and awnings of crimson brocade, sat the reigning maharajah, a puny and sickly-looking stripling.

"Before the main ceremony of the day, heralds had announced that the sovereign was prepared to listen to any grievances or complaints from his people. For a few minutes no one came forward, but at last a pair of sleek mules, handsomely caparisoned, with a richly adorned palankeen slung between them, the identical equipage of the maharanee which had been harboured in my home, emerged from the crowd, and advanced at a grave pace toward the royal dais. That some high-born lady was within the silken coverings of the palankeen every one surmised, and at this extraordinary spectacle a hush of tense expectancy fell upon the assemblage.

"But the silence changed to murmurs of amazement and admiration when a queenly woman stepped upon the edge of the dais, and faced, not the maharajah on his throne, but the nobles and courtiers and officers clustered around.

"With a proud gesture she flung even the sari from her face, which the play of the sunbeams among the jewels in her hair and around her neck invested with a shimmering halo of radiance. On such a woman's face the multitude had never looked before. But stately and unabashed, serene in the purity of her womanhood, the dignity of her motherhood, and the majesty of her rank, she raised aloft a hand, and spake aloud in tones clear as the notes of a silver trumpet.

"'O nobles and O people, the royal son and heir of my husband, the late maharajah, is alive, spared by divine Providence from the massacre of his brothers and playmates in the seraglio of the palace. Many of you know him well, and behold now he comes to claim his heritage.'

"As these words were spoken, the crowd again parted, and there stepped forth the young prince, my protege. At the edge of the throng he discarded a loose mantle of cotton that had concealed the rich garments befitting his rank. Then he advanced, looking proudly and gaily about him, while close behind, and pressing eagerly around his person, came full fifty stalwart tribesmen, treading with the bold swinging gait of the mountaineer, their drawn tulwars flashing in the sun, their voices shouting 'Jai, jai,—Hail, hail!' in deafening chorus.

"The effect was instantaneous and tremendous, and from all the assembled multitude went up the loud acclaim—'Jai, jai, jai!' There seemed to be not a dissentient in the throng. And a moment later the young prince was standing on the dais by his mother's side, one hand resting proudly on her shoulder.

"Among the nobles there had hitherto been the silence of stupefaction. But at last, one of their number, an elderly man, advanced, and prostrated himself on the rich carpet spread in front of the dais, thus rendering public homage to his rightful king. 'Jai, jai, jai!' shouted the mob, and soon a dozen others among the nobles had given the pledge of fealty.

"Meanwhile the kinglet on the throne of gold had been forgotten. He had made no move, but had contented himself with staring around in confused and helpless surprise. But now Todar Rao, the sirdar, had sprung to his side and dragged the youth to his feet.

"'O princes and people, this is your rightful king,' cried the soldier in stentorian tones, 'crowned and proclaimed and accepted by your pledges of loyalty. My orders to the troops are death to those who now betray him.'

"But the words had hardly passed his lips, when two score of the mountaineers, shouting 'Deen, deen,—Kill, kill,' had swarmed over the silver railings surrounding the throne. There was the momentary clash of steel on steel, the impotent curse of an angry man, a shrill pitiful cry of anguish from the youth who in his terror had crouched behind the awnings descending from the canopy. And when the tribesmen again faced the multitude, the soldierly figure of Todar Rao had disappeared, and the throne was vacant for the reception of its rightful occupant.

"Amidst a wild tumult of joy the young prince ascended from the dais and took the royal seat, showing in his every movement the natural grace and dignity that might almost in themselves have proved his right of heritage, and that certainly won to his cause the last waverers among the onlooking multitude. Even the bodyguard of the slain sirdar were now joining in the universal acclaim.

"The first to bend a knee to the rightful king enthroned was the royal queen, his mother. And then the lady stepped back, a little to the rear and to the side of the throne, drawing her silken sari over the lovely countenance that would never again be beholden by the people.

"'Never again!' The thought had scarce passed through my mind, as I watched the scene from the fringe of the crowd, when a more grim and terrible reality was given to the unspoken words than I had ever intended. Close to the spot where the maharanee had halted were some hangings of brocade arranged, as we understood later, so that the seated and veiled figure of a woman might observe the brilliant pageantry of the day from the privacy of this purdah.

"And from out these hangings there now stretched, stealthily but swiftly, a bejewelled hand, which plunged a long dagger between the shoulders of the queen mother.

"Without a cry she fell. I was quickly by her side, and the young maharajah and myself, as we bent over her, caught her dying words.

"'All is well, my beloved son,' she murmured. 'I have accomplished that which I was sent into the world to perform. In peace I yield my soul to God.'

"With the last word she breathed her last breath. And such is mother love."

There was a suppressed sob in more than one breast at the close of the venerable hakeem's tale. Down his own furrowed face the tears were streaming.

"And the woman who struck the foul blow?" inquired the Afghan in an eager whisper.

"The slave mother of the dead pretender. Well, she too had given her all for mother love. The tribesmen tore her limb from limb."

And the hakeem pressed a hand to his eyes to shut out the memory of a dreadful scene.



VIII. THE SACRED PICKAXE

TOLD BY THE MAGISTRATE

The first wolf-grey of the dawn was creeping over the scene, and turning to a sickly yellow the flare of the little oil lamps arranged around the veranda. The morning air bit shrewdly, and more than one of the seated or reclining figures had gathered his robes more closely around him. All eyes were now turned on the kotwal. He alone of the company had not contributed from his store of experiences.

"Methinks it is too late for any more story-telling," he protested diffidently, with gesture and glance toward the east in token that he spoke truly.

"Nay, nay," cried the Rajput, "this night will not be complete without the full measure of our entertainment. Come, come, friend; the sun is yet an hour below the horizon."

Murmurs of approval showed that the general wish had been interpreted.

"Be it so, then," assented the magistrate. "I have heard so many stories this night that it would indeed be churlish on my part to refuse to give you one of mine. Well, listen.

* * * * *

"Know, my friends, that I am a district judge in Delhi, presiding over that quarter known as the Bara Bazaar, where the merchants most do congregate. One day some few years ago it befell that I was seated alone in the hall where I hold my court. It was the afternoon hour, all the suits of the day had been disposed of, punishment had been meted out to those who deserved it, justice had been done to rich and poor alike, in accordance with the orders of our most righteous master Akbar, to whom be all honour and glory.

"I had taken from my garments my silver betel-nut box, and was leisurely spreading on a leaf the smear of lime preparatory to enjoying my pan supari, musing the while on the strange little ironies of life that came to my knowledge each day in the discharge of my magisterial functions. All at once a shadow from the open doorway fell across the room. Raising my eyes, I beheld the tall figure of a man. On meeting my look he bowed his body, and with both hands outstretched, courteously salaamed me.

"'Protector of the poor, listen to my story,' he said.

"In silence, while I adjusted the fragments of betel-nut on the limed leaf and rolled up the morsel, I motioned him to a place on the edge of the carpet whereon I myself sat. For my first glance had shown me that the stranger was a man of consequence, his garments being rich and his look that of one accustomed to the exercise of authority.

"He took his seat, and arranged his flowing and finely embroidered robes around him. I proffered him the pan supari I had prepared, but with a wave of the hand he declined this courtesy. So I placed the morsel in my own mouth, fell to its meditative mastication, and awaited the beginning of his tale.

"'I am a well-to-do traveller, as you would think. O kadi—a pilgrim on my way to the sacred shrine of Juggernaut, as I profess myself to all who make inquiry and to whom an answer is due. But I am not what I appear to be. In reality you behold in me—a thug.'

"The man lowered his voice mysteriously when he pronounced the last word, bending forward so that I might hear it.

"'And what may be a thug?' I asked, for the name to me was quite a new one.

"'Listen,' he said eagerly, and still in a low whisper. 'The thugs are worshippers of Bowani.'

"'There are countless thousands who worship Kali, the dread goddess,' I replied.

"'Yes, but we, the thugs, not only worship her as the wife of Siva, god of destruction, but we are her devoted priests who put men to death in her name and for her glory.'

"Now indeed did I prick up my ears and listen intently. But I did not suffer my awakened interest to betray itself in look or tone of voice.

"'Some fanatics may seek to justify human sacrifice,' I said. I was treading cautiously; later I would tell the man that such foul deeds were against the decrees of Akbar, and involved the penalty of death under the feet of elephants. But meanwhile I wanted his confession.

"'Ah, you know nothing about the thugs,' continued the stranger. 'But hearken to me, for I have come to tell you all, and for a reason you will presently understand. We are thousands strong, and we live in all parts of Hindustan and the Deccan. We are caste brothers, and are bound together by our worship of Bowani. The traditions of our creed have been handed down for generations from father to son. You have never heard of the thugs, O kadi, although you sit in the place of justice. Do you know why? Because I am the very first of the sect who has broken his vows of silence, and spoken the word thug to one outside our secret association.'

"'Yet you say you are thousands strong.'

"'Yes, we are strong in numbers, but stronger still in our fidelity to our vows. When once we have sworn on the sacred pickaxe, it is impossible to speak words of treachery.'

"'If it be for the good and happiness of all men,' I interpolated, encouraging him to keep on speaking freely, 'there can be no treachery, no breaking of vows in revealing the truth.'

"'It is to reveal the truth that I have come to you. It is by the orders of Bowani herself; for I have wronged her, and she is angry and has loudly proclaimed to me that thuggee is ended—that her protection is for ever withdrawn from me and my fellows, because, O misery, we have grievously offended her. Hark! Do you not hear the voice of Bowani even now?'

"The man raised his face toward the rafters of the room, and, with right hand uplifted, his attitude was one of intent listening.

"'Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy,' he murmured, in a strange absent monotone, as if repeating words he was actually hearing. 'You have broken my laws. Go now to your doom, you and all your brothers. Such priests Kali will not have. Thuggee is no more. I will seek some other worshippers.'

"After a pause of tense silence, as if the listener was awaiting for more, he dropped hand and eyes. And now my mind took a new turn of thought. There was the confused, unmistakable glare of insanity in the man's eyes. Half unconsciously, I leaned back on my cushions and placed a hand upon the dagger in my kummerbund.

"The stranger noticed the movement, and, lunatic though he undoubtedly appeared to be, interpreted my thoughts.

"'Be not afraid of me, master,' he said. 'This is the only weapon I carry.'

"And with these words he slipped off a silken scarf that he had been wearing loosely around his throat, and tossed it on the carpet between us.

"Now was I all the more confirmed in my estimate of his madness. To call such a thing a weapon!—a strip of soft fabric that might kill a butterfly but would be poor defence indeed to rely on against sword or dagger. I suppose I smiled contemptuously, for again the man read my thoughts.

"Then instantly did he do a thing that made my blood run cold. With a toss of the scarf into the air, he formed it into a noose, and this he threw over one upbended knee. Next with a swift twist of fierce hands he drew the knot tight, and so terribly realistic was his action that for the moment I saw above his knee the contorted mouth and protruding eyes of his suddenly strangled victim.

"There was horror in my gaze now, but only calm professional pride in his, as he flung back the still looped and knotted kerchief on to the carpet.

"'Yes, I am a strangler,' he said calmly, 'as are all the thugs, born to become stranglers, and taught how to use the roomal in early youth by their own fathers' hands.'

"Of strangling as a means of murder I of course knew, and, indeed, during the years of my magistracy, I had heard vague rumours of robbers habitually resorting to this method of dispatching their victims rather than to clubs or swords. But such appalling dexterity as this man displayed in the handling of an innocent-looking silken scarf I had never imagined.

"'You look dismayed,' commented the miscreant, no longer a madman now to my thinking, but a very dangerous character indeed. 'I am not surprised. Now prepare yourself for a story that will freeze the very marrow in your bones. Know that I am from Daibul, the city by the sea where great Mother Indus flows into the black waters. There for six months of the year, just before and during the season of the monsoon, I live peacefully in my home, doing no wrong to my fellows, in the eyes of all my neighbours a man of wealth and respectability, who goes periodically to his own country to draw rents from his lands. Little do my friends know that when I do travel it is to worship Bowani by sacrificing to her other travellers on the road. She gives us the omen to kill and we obey her. Once the omen has been declared, it would be sacrilege not to kill her destined victim.'

"'And you rob them too?' I asked discreetly.

"'Oh, naturally. But that is a mere incident. We kill those marked for death by our divine Kali, and she freely bestows on us the wealth of her victims. But we never kill to rob. That would be truly abominable. We kill only in honour of Kali, of Bowani, the all-mighty, great Mother of the Universe. For to her devout worshippers, the thugs, did she not give one of her teeth for a pickaxe, a rib for a knife, and the hem of her lower garment for a noose? So we strangle in her service, and with every victim the act becomes more and more a delight to the soul.' As he spoke, his muscular fingers and wrists automatically went through the motions of tying and drawing the fatal noose. 'Once a man has become a thug, he will remain a thug all the rest of his days. Even if he come to possess the wealth of the world, he will continue to serve Bowani.'

"I had regained my momentarily disturbed composure, and was studying the face of the man before me. It was a fine face, clear-cut, that of a clean liver, unmarked by sensuality, unharmed by wine, keen of intelligence, resolute of will. I could no longer deem him a madman. But I saw I had to do with one so filled with fanaticism that he could look upon murder as religion, plan it without misgiving, execute it without pity, and remember it without remorse. But now there had occurred something so to upset his mental balance that he feared the wrath of his own goddess and fancied he heard her threatening voice in the air.

"'You have journeyed to Delhi from Daibul?' I asked, prompting him to resume his story.

"'Yes, we were six thugs at the start, with fifteen others, merchants and pilgrims, all of us agreeing to journey together for greater protection on the road. As we proceeded day by day more travellers joined us, some peaceful voyagers, the others thugs to a man. Of the latter several were our own inveiglers, who had gone on in advance to gain the confidence of likely victims and delay them until our coming. The rest were strangers to us, yet none the less thugs. For we had left signs on the road telling such as could read them that more help was needed and in what direction we were moving; and, although those who responded to this call were in varied disguises, one, perhaps, coming up to us as a petty chief with a mounted escort, another as a merchant with a bullock cart to draw his packages of goods and a servant in attendance, yet another as a juggler or a musician, we could instantly recognize them as belonging to our brotherhood of Bowani by the secret signals with which they introduced themselves.

"'So we fared onward, increasing our numbers until our caravan was full one hundred strong. We walked or rode together, ate together, worshipped at the wayside shrines together, chatted and amused ourselves at night around the camp fire, slept side by side, thugs and our intended victims, until our strength should be sufficient and a suitable place for the final deed attained.

"'At last these two requirements were satisfied. We were now three to one, just the proper proportion—a strangler to use the roomal, a holder of legs, and a holder of arms, three thugs for each man to be sacrificed, so that there could be no mistake, no outcry for help, no possibility of escape for our victims. And one day's journey ahead, as we knew well from previous experience, there was a lonely gorge densely grown with jungle. Here the sacrifice to Bowani would be consummated, so the grave-choosers and the grave-diggers were sent on in advance. We acted now with the certainty of good fortune, for day by day every omen had continued to be propitious, as interpreted by the movements and cries of beasts and birds.'

"The man's story fell on my ears in an even flow. He spoke without emotion. I feared to interrupt with a single word, lest any untoward comment from me should put an abrupt end to the appalling confession. So I just listened while I chewed my betel-nut.

"'On the succeeding night,' continued the thug, 'we reached the nullah. The camp fire was lighted the bullocks and riding ponies were placed within the circle formed of the carts, for the gorge beneath us was full of wild beasts, and we had even heard the roar of a tiger disturbed from his hunting. The bales and boxes of merchandise had been piled up in heaps, close to where each of the owners would sleep, some on the open ground, some in tents erected by their servants. The evening meal had been cooked and eaten. The half-moon had risen, and at a little distance from the fire a troupe of musicians was performing—zithers were playing, cymbals clanking, tum-tums beating. From the peculiar rhythm of the drums, which all we thugs knew well, we were made aware that the appointed hour had come.

"'Our leader stood in the midst of the gathering, ostensibly warming his hands at the blaze of the fire. Gradually and naturally we took our appointed places, many of them customarily taken before this night so as to excite no suspicion at the final moment. And little did the destined victims of Bowani dream that behind each of them now was an accomplished strangler, with the roomal ready to his hands, while on either side squatted a holder of legs and a holder of arms.

"'Then there happened a thing that will explain, O kadi, why I have come to you this day to tell my story. I am an adept in my craft, and therefore was one of those entrusted to use the roomal. My particular victim was a comely youth, perhaps seventeen years of age—son of a landowner, he had told me in confidence, travelling with a bag of gold mohurs for his father. This lad had been in my close companionship during the journey, and he had come to show great affection for me. I liked him well, but there was no pity in my heart, for it is good to die in honour of Bowani.

"'At last came the signal of death—the jhirnee we call it. Our leader raised aloft his right hand, and said aloud so that all could hear the agreed-upon words: "The moon shines bright to-night." This was our command to act, and in an instant every appointed victim was in the death throes. Five minutes later all were dead—four-and-thirty of them—and not one faintest cry of alarm or of agony had been uttered. Thus skilfully had our work been done. When all was over, the musicians were still playing their stringed instruments and hand-drums, softly now after a great volume of sound that would have overwhelmed any chance scream of terror.

"'But in the very act of strangling, a dreadful revelation had come to me. Just before the signal was given the lad had turned his countenance toward me, and his eyes were looking into mine. In his fixed regard, as I realized later, there was the glow of love. But this was transformed of an instant into affrighted horror, as my hand at his ear gave the noose the deft and fatal twist. In the space of a single heart-beat, I saw incredulity change to the realization of sudden death, the first wild appeal for pity turn into rigid despair. But this momentary flash of revelation had shown me something else. It was a maid into whose soul I had gazed. I had put to death a woman.'

"Now for the first time in his narrative did the strangler betray emotion. Bending forward, he raised a hand to shield his quivering features from my scrutiny. I turned away, that he might the better recover himself. After a little time he resumed:

"'Oh, the horror of it!' he cried, uplifting haggard eyes to mine. 'The frightful crime against Bowani! To have killed one of her own sex! For a thug there is no crime in all the world to equal this one. Too late I realized what I had done. But in my first impulse of fear I resolved to keep the dread secret to myself. With my own hands I rifled the body, and laid the spoil of gold and other valuables on the cotton cloth outspread in the moonlight for the reception of such gifts to the goddess. I removed the outer garments, robes of cost, silken, and heavily wrought with gold. Then, when the grave-diggers emerged from the nullah to show us the places of burial prepared, one for each victim, in my own arms I carried the body down into the darkness, laid it in its narrow bed, filled in the sand, and heaped on top the stones already gathered together in a pile, so that hyenas or jackals should not disturb the grave, finally covering all with brushwood cut and ready, that even the signs of recent excavation should be hidden from prying eyes and the sacrifice to Bowani disclosed to none besides her votaries.

"'I kept my secret—the terrible knowledge that a woman had died at our hands. By the morning dawn the spoil had been divided, and our cavalcade, smaller now by nearly one-third, moved on. At the first cross-roads we split up into several groups, and later on into smaller parties still, so as to divert attention from us. And thus have I come on to Delhi, only I and one other member of that body of thugs, dispersed to assemble again as the omens of the goddess should direct. At Delhi we two await another gathering of thugs. But meanwhile my heavy secret has weighed upon my soul. I have heard incessantly, these last few days and nights, Bowani denouncing me as false to her because I have taken the life of a woman in her name, and bidding me hand over all the thugs to the justice of Akbar. Therefore have I come first to you, O kadi, one of the judges of Akbar.'

"I looked steadily at the man. Methought I saw once more the furtive, shifty eyes of the maniac.

"'What proof have you of this story?' I asked.

"'Take some sowars, and ride back with me three days' journey. There will I show you the graves of these last victims, and of some hundreds of others buried on previous occasions in the same gorge.'

"'Where is your companion—your brother thug?'

"'He has a shop at the corner of the Chota Bazaar and Dhurmtola. There he is now selling his merchandise.'

"'But that is the shop of Kubar Bux. He dwells here in Delhi.'

"'Kubar Bux is his name.'

"'He is a well-known and respected merchant.'

"'None the less is he a thug,' answered the informer, with what I took to be a vindictive little smile.

"Then once again did a new thought leap into my mind. This man might have a feud with Kubar Bux, and peradventure he had merely invented the story of thugs and wholesale murder for the latter's undoing. I know well the wily ways of some men—how they will even imperil their own lives to compass the ruin of an enemy.

"'If I go with you now,' I said, 'to the shop of Kubar Bux, what proof will you give me of his connexion with this story of thuggee?'

"'On his person he carries the sacred pickaxe of Bowani, which makes him our leader when thugs come together. And hidden in one of his bales of silk you will find a case of jewelled rings that actually belonged to another Delhi merchant, who was of the party of travellers that recently perished, on his way home from a visit to Baroda. You will but have to inquire as to this same merchant's disappearance, and get his relatives to identify the casket as the dead man's property.'

"'That, indeed, will be proof,' I assented. 'Come, let us go to the Chota Bazaar.'

"As we passed out of the courthouse, I signalled to two sepoys on guard there to follow us.

"Keeping close to the denouncer, I allowed him to lead me through the narrow crowded streets. Soon we were at the corner where was the shop of Kubar Bux, and there amidst his bales of merchandise the man himself was seated, a venerable and dignified figure. Yet at sight of me and my companion I thought an ashen pallor stole into the nut-brown of his complexion.

"As I stood with the informer in front of the tiny shop, which was too small for all of us to enter, the two soldiers closed up behind us. Then unmistakably did Kubar Bux turn grey from trepidation.

"'Kubar Bux,' I began, without ceremony, for I saw that a crowd would soon be gathering, 'open the bale of silk among your merchandise in which a casket of jewels is hidden, or I shall order your shop to be searched by the sepoys I have brought here with me.'

"The merchant rose to his feet. I noticed now, further back in the shop, another figure seated—that of a man who, on our entry, had drawn his garments around him so as to conceal his face. But to him at the moment I gave no particular attention. My eyes were on Kubar Bux. He moved toward a pile of fabrics, silks and embroidered cloths, as if to comply with my demand. He pressed against the bales, and then all of a sudden sank down upon the floor in a huddled heap. Then I saw the crimson stain of blood upon the merchandise.

"I sprang forward. Driven up to the very hilt, in the breast of Kubar Bux was a dagger. He was not quite dead, and I heard him with his last breath murmur the words: 'Bowani, great goddess, all hail!' Then with a rattle in his throat he died.

"I had gathered the dying man in my arms, and now beneath the flowing garments, laid flat against the breast, I could feel the shape of something fashioned like a small pickaxe.

"When I saw that Kubar Bux was indeed dead, I drew forth this implement. It was carefully swathed in white cloths, a pickaxe bright from the hammer of the smith who had forged it, unsullied by earthy stain but curiously marked from the head to the point by seven discs of red paint, showing it to be an object of worship at an altar rather than for actual use in the ground. But at this stage I did not pause further to investigate, and hastily replaced the wrappings.

"'Keep close guard on this man,' I said to the sepoys, pointing to the informer. But he whom I would thus hold safe remained standing impassively, making no attempt to escape.

"Then with a push of my hands I tumbled down the pile of bales. In the one next to the bottom was a protuberance, and from this I drew forth a casket of silver, delicately chased and inlaid with ivory.

"By this time a throng of passers-by had stopped outside the shop, and some had even crowded into the little place. But these I now ordered out. Then I turned to seek the man who had been Kubar Bux's companion at the moment of our coming. He was no longer there. The shop was tenantless—except for myself and the dead man.

"I need tell but little more. The silver box was identified by several people as the property of Govind Chung, a jewel-seller in the Bara Bazaar, who had made a recent journey to the court of the Rajah of Baroda, but had not yet returned home, although for some time expected.

"That night the paint-bedaubed pickaxe, sacred emblem of Kali's worship, lay on the table in my sleeping chamber. But in the morning it had disappeared—gone how and where no one has ever discovered. The informer had been confined in the public prison, guarded by two sepoys. Thither, on discovering my loss, I straightway repaired.

"The soldiers were still on guard in the corridor; nothing had happened during the night to disturb their watch.

"But within his cell the informer was found dead—strangled, eyes and tongue protruding from blackened face, the twisted knot under his ear tied in the very manner I had seen him himself tie it over his upraised knee on the afternoon of his confession.

"That is the end of my story."

* * * * *

The narrator of the grim tale folded his hands across his breast, bowed his head, and thus remained in an attitude of meditation. There was an interval of silence.

"Who murdered the informer?" at last asked the astrologer.

"We never learned," replied the magistrate.

"Was he strangled with his own silken scarf?"

"No. A plain cotton loin-cloth had been used for the deed. It had never been worn or washed. It must thus have come straight from some shop in the bazaars. But scores of the same kind are bought and sold every day. We could discover nothing from this, the only clue the murderer had left behind him."

"The assassin must have been the mysterious individual you saw in the rear of the shop of Kubar Bux," commented the Afghan general. "Himself a member of the thug fraternity, he no doubt took swift vengeance on the informer for having betrayed its secrets."

"As I believed then, and believe now. But the whole affair remained a puzzle. For how was access gained to the locked and guarded prison cell, and to my sleeping chamber as well whence the sacred pickaxe was stolen?"

"Well, who can be certain even of his associates or followers? According to the miscreant's own story, there are thugs all around, knowing each other but not known to us."

"Can such things be?" asked the merchant, his eyes showing the fear and horror that had smitten him. "Many times have I travelled in company with just such a promiscuously gathered crowd as the strangler described."

"You have been in luck," laughed the Afghan.

"Doubtless on those occasions the omens proved unpropitious for the final deed. A jackal crossing the road or the hoot of an owl at midnight may have spared your life, my friend."

With a shudder, the trader drew his white garments more closely around him.

"Well," remarked the magistrate, "for my own part, ever from that day when I heard the story of thugs and thuggee I have exercised the precaution of never travelling a single mile on the road with strangers, however fair-spoken. Although I have never again met anyone whom I could positively accuse of such practices, that the evil exists in our midst, and is widely spread, I am convinced. For a religion that provides a rich livelihood, while at the same time exalting the attendant crime into positive virtue is at least convenient enough to have many ardent devotees." The words were accompanied by a glance around the listening group, and a disdainful half-smile that expressed distrust of all humanity.

"But of a truth," he went on, "I know no more than my story has told. And hark! There is the trumpet call that heralds the coming of the sun."

Saying this, the kotwal uncrossed his legs and rose erect.

The long winding note of a horn was floating from the camp of the soldiery near the city gateway, and in a moment there came from the same direction the confused sound of men's voices afar off, calling the one to the other.

THE END