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 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 VOL. -I.
 
 NOURMAHAL, 
 
 ^n (©mntal J^omance. 
 
 BY MICHAEL J. QUIN, 
 
 AUTHOR OF '^ A STEAM VOYAGE DOWN THE DAXUBE, 
 " A VISIT TO SPAIN," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1838.
 
 LONDON : 
 PKINTID BY STEWART AND MURRAY, 
 OLD tAlLEY.
 
 4 
 
 ^Z3 
 
 Q^ 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The reader is to suppose that th^ following 
 romance is related by a story-teller of Cash- 
 mere. Itinerant reciters of prose and poetical 
 fictions are still, as is well known to travellers, 
 as common in the East as they were in the 
 days of Homer. 
 
 r 
 
 it- 

 
 NOURMAHAL, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Too much Avisdom is folly : for time will produce events 
 of which thou canst have no idea ; and he to whom thou 
 gavest no commission, will bring thee unexpected news. 
 
 Tarafa. 
 
 In no part of our oriental world are there to 
 be found bolder or more picturesque moun- 
 tain ranges, or a greater variety of climate, 
 fruits, flowers, and animals, than in that 
 tract of country which lies beyond the grand 
 chain of the Himalas. Although the snow 
 and the cloud seldom disappear, which pre- 
 vent their stupendous peaks from being seen in 
 all their naked majesty, nevertheless the wan- 
 derer looks with delight upon their nume- 
 rous declivities and valleys, clothed in green 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 nourmahal. 
 
 herbage, interspersed with villages, and ani- 
 mated by herds and flocks, which abundantly 
 reward the cares of their pastoral population. 
 Sometimes standing upon an abrupt ridge, after 
 having ascended through a wild accumulation 
 of rocks, he beholds, spreading at his feet, a dell 
 irrigated by streams that fall from the surround- 
 ing heights with a pleasing murmur, and occu- 
 pied by cottages near which the amaranth, the 
 convolvulus, the primrose and the hyacinth, 
 blend their charms in gay luxuriance. Passing 
 through the hospitable valley, he clambers 
 higher up the mountain, and treads through 
 copses, the haunt of the wild goat, red and 
 white deer, and a peculiar species of fox re- 
 markable for it fleetness. The copse leads to 
 the forest, tenanted by that elegant bird the 
 bee-eater, whose brown back and yellow neck 
 form so strikino; a contrast with the brioht 
 emerald of his breast and wings ; by the fla- 
 mingo, that sometimes lightens in the firmament 
 like a meteor ; the ring-dove, the starling, the 
 nightingale, and above all the ouzell, whose 
 body has stolen the blush of the rose, while its 
 proud head seems to have been just dipped in 
 the azure of the skies.
 
 NOURMAHA.L. 6 
 
 More than a thousand years have passed 
 since the volcano and the earthquake filled that 
 region with terror ; but the traces of their fear- 
 ful visitation appear to be of yesterday. Enor- 
 mous bulks of rocks, rent asunder, present 
 abysses through which the torrent rolls unseen, 
 but not unheard, as innumerable caverns multi- 
 ply its voice of thunder, while it contends against 
 the fallen masses that momentarily resist its 
 course. And yet it is delicious to contemplate 
 the borders of those unfathomable channels, 
 overhung by thickets of barberries and jasmines, 
 and myriads of flowering shrubs, which send 
 forth a spicy fragrance, and decorate the gloomy 
 horror beneath with festoons of the most exquisite 
 beauty. 
 
 On the edge of one of those dangerous 
 ravines, in the district of Arjun, Kazim Ayas 
 found himself expecting the return of his 
 falcon, that had plunged into it after a quail. 
 He had brought out the bird rather as a com- 
 panion than for the purpose of sport, to which 
 he was not much addicted. He had but re- 
 cently returned to his native village among the 
 mountains of Arjun, from the city of Samar- 
 cand, where he had obtained his education. 
 B 2
 
 4 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 at the celebrated college founded by the muni- 
 ficence of Ulug Beg. The poems of Nizami 
 were much more delightful to his ear than the 
 sound of the hunter's horn, especially those which 
 paint in such fascinating colours the loves of 
 Leili and Mejnun. For him, also, the moral 
 compositions of Jami possessed peculiar charms. 
 The elegance of language and versification, the 
 sublimity of thought, the strain of religious 
 and philosophical mysticism which characterise 
 the effusions of that bard, often held the soul 
 of Kazim bound in the spell of enchantment. 
 Nor did he fail to render himself familiar with 
 almost every branch of science, and with the 
 historians who have related the fortunes of all 
 the great empires. 
 
 As the sun was fast descending beneath a 
 canopy of gold and purple clouds, Kazim ex- 
 pected anxiously the re-appearance of the hawk, 
 which he would not have lost for a hundred-fold 
 its weight in diamonds; it was the first gift he had 
 received from Mangeli, the idol of his soul from 
 infancy, to whom he had been already for three 
 happy years united. Holding by the branch of 
 a willow which hung down low into the ravine, 
 he ventured to descend over broken rocks,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 5 
 
 whence, by the aid of gigantic ferns depending 
 from the sides of the fissure, he lowered himself 
 safely to a considerable distance from the sum- 
 mit. Through the dim twilight, he perceived 
 the hawk struggling with its prey, among some 
 fragments in the midst of the raging flood be- 
 low. He called it repeatedly by its well-known 
 name ; but the noble bird, bent on victory, 
 would not surrender the advantage it had al- 
 ready gained. In the contest, both the com- 
 batants fell into the torrent, which bore them 
 away in an instant from his sight. 
 
 Kazim resolved to dare every dangler rather 
 than lose the falcon. Guided by the sound of 
 the torrent, he trod his way through the fissure, 
 until it closed above his head, excluding alto- 
 gether the light of day. Though exposed every 
 moment to the risk of falling over precipices, 
 made slippery by the perpetual dropping of 
 water from the masses overhead, nevertheless he 
 penetrated through the dark hollows of the 
 mountain, until his steps were checked by what 
 he afterwards discovered to be a lake, in whose 
 ample bosom the roar of the waters, which had 
 almost stunned his ear, was subdued to silence. 
 
 Again and again he called to the falcon,
 
 6 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 shouting as loudly as his voice would permit, 
 but he was only replied to by a thousand vibra- 
 tions, which bore the name along the waters, 
 until at length it died away in the distant 
 labyrinths of the cavern. While pausing in 
 wonder at the effect his exertions produced, he 
 descried afar in the heart of the mountain, 
 several sparkles of fire, followed by a flame, 
 that, after flickering for a moment, disap- 
 peared. His first impulse was to retrace his 
 steps without delay ; but, before he could 
 withdraw his gaze from the spot where the 
 mystic hght was kindled, it again came like a 
 star, dimly seen through a cloud, and shooting 
 forth rays all round it. Gradually it grew 
 larger and more briUiant, until Kazim felt that 
 it was approaching rapidly towards the place 
 where he stood. Presently, the outline of a 
 boat was visible, and then dark forms cast their 
 shadows on the water ; slight undulations, shin- 
 ing at quick and regular intervals at each side 
 of the vessel, betrayed the speed with which the 
 oars were plied, and created so much alarm in 
 the mind of Kazim, that he sought concealment 
 behind a projecting rock ; whence, however, he 
 could watch the progress of the bark.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 7 
 
 As the vessel came nearer, Kazim perceived 
 that one of the group, who wore a Mogul cap 
 embroidered with gold thread, appeared to be 
 treated by his companions with some degree of 
 distinction. To him they looked for directions 
 as to the course which they were now to pursue, 
 having already arrived in the middle of the lake. 
 Without uttering a word, the chieftain took a 
 torch in his hand, and pointing towards the rock 
 behind which Kazim had sought refuge, desired 
 the boat to be steered in that direction. 
 
 " Whom have we here?" exclaimed the leader, 
 as he stepped out of the boat, flashing the light 
 of the torch full in Kazim's face. " A friend, or 
 a foe?" 
 
 "How, when, why came you here?" asked 
 five or six angry voices at once, rendered fiercer 
 by as many sabres, which threatened the stranger 
 with instant destruction. 
 
 Kazim explained, as soon as they would per- 
 mit him to speak, though in a voice agitated by 
 the feelings which this strange scene awakened, 
 that he had undesignedly entered the cavern in 
 search of his falcon. 
 
 " A falcon !" they shouted in a tone of deri- 
 sion ; — " a spy — off with his head — he comes
 
 8 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 from the foes of Suleiman — away with him into 
 the lake!" 
 
 While the chieftain was scrutinising the coun- 
 tenance of Kazim by the light of the torch, the 
 falcon descended on his hand j its beauteous 
 eyes sparkling with joy for having once more 
 found its favourite resting-place. 
 
 *' His words are true," said the chieftain, " for 
 here is the hawk ; and a noble bird it is : whence 
 came you ? to what tribe do you belong ?" 
 
 ** The Uzbecks." 
 
 " We are friends ; we have partaken of their 
 salt ; they have raised the war-cry with us ; 
 our arrows have flown together over the battle- 
 field.'' 
 
 While saying these words, the chieftain, 
 without further ceremony, led the way by the 
 road which had conducted Kazim to the lake, 
 when suddenly turning into a dark passage, he 
 entered a spacious cave, on the floor of which 
 several coats of mail, spears, bows and quivers 
 were thrown in confusion. Taking up a saddle- 
 drum which lay amongst them, he struck it 
 thrice with the back of his hand : the floor of 
 the cave immediately awoke to life ; numbers of 
 men who had been sleeping, wrapped in their
 
 NOURMAHAL. 9 
 
 cloaks, rose upon their feet at the signal, and 
 crowding vound their chieftain, anxiously in- 
 quired, " What news ?" 
 
 " Good news, my friends : the rebels will soon 
 be in our power. The day after to-morrow we 
 shall proceed on the march, and in the mean- 
 time, look to the boat for an abundant supply of 
 provisions." 
 
 A hundred torches of pine-wood were forth- 
 with lighted, and planted at intervals all round 
 the cavern : some of the men kindled fires, while 
 others proceeded to the boat, and returned laden 
 with deer, hares, partridges, pheasants, sheep, 
 loaves of wheaten bread, and a considerable 
 quantity of wine, and of humiz, the spirit dis- 
 tilled from mares' milk, in leathern bags and 
 bottles. The latter were reserved for the march, 
 and the expected encounter ; but the bags were 
 placed on a shelving rock, and being formed 
 of the skins of lambs prepared for the purpose, 
 the liquid was drawn out through the tail, 
 which was tied up, or let down, as occasion re- 
 quired. Most of those who had been sleeping 
 in the cave, paid preliminary visits to the bags, 
 by way of recompence for the privations which 
 they had for some time endured. Meanwhile, 
 B 5
 
 10 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 expert hands were occupied in dissecting, with 
 sabres and knives, the venison and mutton, of 
 which large slices were suspended on spikes of 
 wood. These being stuck in the ground, round 
 the fires, were turned repeatedly, until the 
 meat was roasted. Some hares, pheasants, 
 and partridges were cooked in a similar manner ; 
 and while the cavern was thus filled with savory 
 odours, which would have given edge to the ap- 
 petite even of the epicure, various groups sat 
 down on the floor in circles : salt was served to 
 each man in the hollow of one hand, and in the 
 other was placed bread, and a portion of the fra- 
 grant viands smoking from the fire. Bags of wine 
 and humiz went round from circle to circle in 
 due succession. 
 
 Kazim, whom the chieftain had directed to sit 
 down near himself, felt not at all disinclined to 
 imitate the example of his new friends. The veni- 
 son of the red-deer he found as delicious as if 
 it had been prepared by the hand of Mangeli. 
 The wine, which was from Kabul, cheered his 
 soul. By and by, as the hunger of the differ- 
 ent groups was sated, and their hearts opened 
 by the generous nectar, conversation became 
 loud and o-eneral. Here a Tartar was seen on
 
 NOURMAHAL. 11 
 
 his legs with a spear in his hand, boasting to 
 those who were near him of the skill he had ex- 
 ercised in shaping the bone with which it was 
 pointed, and in carving that part of it, which 
 he grasped in his hand, when rushing on the 
 foe. There a circle of listeners gathered round 
 a veteran, who related incidents of the battles 
 in which he had been engaged, not forgetting 
 to exhibit scars on liis breast and forehead, in 
 verification of his story ; while others were more 
 sedately engaged in conjecturing the plans of 
 their chieftain, whom they called Suleiman, and 
 to whose fortunes they appeared to be enthu- 
 siastically attached. 
 
 From all that he could observe and hear, 
 Kazim collected that the whole party had come 
 from some distance, with a view to surprise 
 three formidable princes, who were now, or 
 were very soon expected to be, in that part of 
 Arjun. While he was anxiously watching the 
 movements of the various groups around him, 
 he found that he had himself become an object 
 of much attention to a noble looking person 
 who was seated on the other side of Suleiman, 
 and frequently conversed with the chief in an 
 under tone. But Kazim felt no uneasiness for his
 
 12 NOUHMAHAL. 
 
 own fate. He had now taken salt with the 
 strangers, whoever they were ; they owed him 
 protection, so long as he remained faithful to 
 them ; and there was a dignity in the manner 
 of the commander, which appeared to entitle 
 him at once to confidence and submission. 
 
 *' My friend, Baba Seirami, thinks that he 
 must have seen you somewhere before," said 
 Suleiman. 
 
 " Possibly, at Samarcand." 
 
 " It must have been at Samarcand," said 
 Seirami. *' If I mistake not, I was present at 
 one of the public disputations held in the col- 
 lege of Ulug Beg, at which you took away the 
 principal prize." 
 
 Kazim modestly replied, that it was a great 
 addition to the honours he had obtained on that 
 occasion, to find that they were remembered 
 by a personage, to whom he would have been 
 otherwise unknown. 
 
 " Your name, I think, is Ayas ?" 
 
 *^ Kazim Ayas." 
 
 " It is a good name ; you inherit it from one 
 of the most ancient families at this side of the 
 Himalas. I presume you reside in this neigh- 
 bourhood ?" added Seirami.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 13 
 
 " Not far hence, in a small hut on the borders 
 of the Ilamish." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Suleiman, " a scholar, 
 and content to die without a name on the banks 
 of the Ilamish ? Be of us, henceforth. I shall 
 open to you the paths of glory." 
 
 " I fear that you would find me but an in- 
 cumbrance. I have never learned even to bend 
 the bow." 
 
 The entrance of a Tartar courier with let- 
 ters, which he placed in the hands of Seirami, 
 here interrupted the conversation. The latter, 
 rising from the floor, proceeded with Suleiman 
 to a recess in the cavern, where they glanced 
 hastily over the letters. The chieftain imme- 
 diately called around him his principal officers ; 
 and while they remained in consultation, Sei- 
 rami, returning to Kazim, inquired at much 
 length into the usual habits of his life, and the 
 circumstances in which he was placed since he 
 had quitted Samarcand. 
 
 *' My biography since that period," replied 
 Kazim, " may be briefly told. Before I left 
 home, all my dreams and hopes of happiness 
 hovered around one dear image. A shepher- 
 dess, whom I used to meet in my daily rambles
 
 14 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 among the hills, Mangeli, the daughter of 
 Gulbeg, was the star of my existence. Upon 
 my return from the university, I found her still 
 the same. My heart, equally unchanged, knew 
 no peace but in her presence." 
 
 " An Ayas, and married to a shepherd's 
 daughter !" 
 
 " You would not express so much surprise, 
 if you had known her gentleness, her purity of 
 soul, her tenderness for me, her beauty," said 
 Kazim, deeply blushing; for he felt that the 
 rank of his family was too well-known to 
 Seirami. 
 
 *' You must keep secret, even from her, all 
 that you have seen or heard in this cave. Your 
 life, your fortunes, depend upon your strict ob- 
 servance of this injunction. You may render 
 us important services, if we can depend upon 
 your firmness on this occasion." 
 
 " The kindness which I have already expe- 
 rienced at your hands, commands my gratitude. 
 Be assured of my fidelity." 
 
 " These letters inform us, that to-morrow a 
 troop of Mogul horsemen, commanded by the 
 Khan Mirtas, will cross the Ilamish. His 
 object is to effect a junction with our force;
 
 NOURMAHAL. 15 
 
 and as we must move to-night to the place 
 where the greater number of our soldiers are 
 encamped, it will be your business to meet the 
 Khan, and conduct him thither." 
 
 Kazim received his commission with a de- 
 gree of pride, which he had not known for 
 some time. Seirami, then producing a map, 
 described to him the spot where it was of 
 the utmost importance that the Khan should 
 join Suleiman, Kazim said, that he was per- 
 fectly familiar with the country, and he should 
 feel no difficulty in accomplishing the service 
 required of him. He was then, by Seirami's 
 direction, conducted to the boat, and rapidly 
 rowed across the lake, to a passage by which 
 its superfluous waters were discharged. In a 
 short time the light of the stars, glowing in the 
 firmament, enabled him to assure the rowers 
 that they need give themselves no farther trou- 
 ble, as he knew that he was upon one of the 
 tributaries of the liamish.
 
 16 KOURMAHAL, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Contentment's realms no fears invade. 
 No cares annoy, no sorrows shade ; 
 There placed secure, in peace we rest. 
 Nor aught demand to make us blest. 
 While pleasure's gay fantastic bower, 
 The splendid pageant of an hour, 
 Like yonder meteor in the skies. 
 Flits with a breath, no more to rise. 
 
 Lamiat Alajem. 
 
 The moon being on the wane, was just ascend- 
 ing on the horizon, indicating the near approach 
 of midnight, when Kazim arrived within view 
 of his cottage. Through the small aperture, 
 that served as a back window, he perceived 
 a light, which told him that Mangeli was still 
 watching for his return. For the first time, 
 he felt a shade of uneasiness gathering, to 
 qualify the delight he always experienced in
 
 NOURMAHAL. 17 
 
 meeting her after a short absence. He now- 
 held a secret in his breast, calculated to influ- 
 ence, perhaps, the whole of his future destinies ; 
 and he had pledged himself not to reveal it 
 even to her. In giving an account of the 
 circumstances that detained him so unusually 
 long from home — circumstances into which 
 she would inquire with all the solicitude of 
 affection — he was sensible that he must be 
 guilty of a departure from that degree of un- 
 limited confidence, which had hitherto sub- 
 sisted between them. Treading gently by the 
 path that led behind the cottage, he lingered 
 involuntarily outside the window, as if to see 
 how Mangeli was employed ; but really hoping 
 that he might be able to compose his thoughts, 
 and to assume, before he entered, a calmness 
 which he did not feel. 
 
 A small bright charcoal fire was burning in 
 the hearth, on which an earthen pan of rice was 
 stewing. On a low table, spread with a snow- 
 white cloth, was a jar of spring water, a loaf of 
 bread made from the grain of purslane, a quarter 
 of a large melon, and a basket of figs, all evi- 
 dently untouched, as if Mangeli could have no 
 enjoyment which was not shared by her husband.
 
 18 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 Her father, Gulbeg, who, although he had al- 
 ready counted more than seventy winters, always 
 rose at the dawn to drive the goats to pasture, 
 was sleeping on his dry grass bed, at some dis- 
 tance from the fire ; behind him lay his small 
 herd of goats, also in profound repose. Two or 
 three kids were skipping about, in vain soliciting 
 the notice of Mangeli, who was looking out 
 anxiously from the door. 
 
 '• No — nowhere can I discern the least ap- 
 pearance of his shadow ; what can detain him ? 
 Kazim, dear, dear Kazim !" she exclaimed, as 
 turning from the door she closed it almost in 
 despair. *' This rice will be quite spoiled," she 
 said, as approaching the hearth she stirred the 
 pottage with a wooden spoon. The falcon, 
 awoke by that w^ell-known voice, fluttered a 
 moment in Kazim's bosom, where it had hitherto 
 lain asleep. Suddenly Mangeli stood up in the 
 attitude of listening. A smile of joy rising from 
 her tremulous lips, flashed rapidly over her 
 countenance. 
 
 '* It must be his step : hush !" she cried im- 
 patiently to the kids, that were jumping to 
 touch her hand. 
 
 The light of the lamp, which was suspended
 
 NOURMAHAL. 19 
 
 from the roof, fell full upon her countenance, 
 then in the very bloom of beauty. The clear 
 air of the mountains, if it had not wholly pre- 
 vented her cheek from being tinged with the 
 brunette, so common to the Tartar tribes, gave 
 it a transparency, through which the blush, that 
 now inflamed it, appeared like the lightning 
 behind a summer cloud. The usually mild 
 lustre of her dark eye changed into a bright 
 living glow, that sparkled with delight. Her 
 black glossy hair, simply braided in front, was 
 gathered in a graceful knot on the top of her 
 head, prepared for the usual hour of repose. 
 A plain cotton robe, descending a little below 
 the knee, and tightened by a girdle of the 
 same material at her waist, revealed the graces 
 of her delicately formed figure, which would 
 have been deemed sylph-like, had not a slight 
 undulation, commencing beneath her bosom, 
 just like the wave when first rising from the 
 surface of the tranquil deep, betrayed the ap- 
 proach, though yet distant, of a period that was 
 to kindle in her breast feelings of rapture it had 
 never known before. 
 
 The hawk, which struggled incessantly for 
 freedom, at length escaped through the window.
 
 20 
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 and lighting on the table, began to peck at the 
 bread. " Ah, now I know he is come, indeed!" 
 said Mangeli, hastening to the door, where she 
 met and folded her husband in her arms. She 
 pressed him to her bosom, as if she would never 
 part with him again ; until a shower of tears — 
 tears of joy, came to her relief. *' What has 
 happened V she at length asked : — " where, in 
 the name of Allah, have you been ?" He then 
 related to her, circumstantially, the dangers 
 he had encountered in pursuit of the falcon, 
 by this time sleeping once more on its own 
 perch. Mangeli gazed upon her husband with 
 alarm, while he told her of the caverns into 
 which he had descended. 
 
 " But you have not yet mentioned how you 
 escaped." 
 
 ** Did I not say there was a boat on the 
 lake?" 
 
 " A boat ? — thanks to Allah, who must have 
 sent it for your safety. I never heard of the 
 places you speak of, though I know that 
 the mountains about us are full of dangerous 
 precipices. You must promise me, dearest 
 Kazim, never to go there any more ;" and ac- 
 cepting the promise as if it had been already
 
 NOURMAHAL. 21 
 
 given, she kissed him again and again, and 
 placed the pan of rice on the table. 
 
 But Kazim, although he affected to be very 
 busy in dispatching his supper, had no appe- 
 tite. 
 
 ^' I am afraid that the rice is quite spoiled, it 
 has been so long on the fire : put it by, love, and 
 let me give you some of this melon, which, you 
 know, my father says is one of the best he ever 
 tasted." To Kazim, who had, in fact, already 
 supped well, the melon was as little tempting as 
 the rice, and he endeavoured to excuse himself on 
 the score of fatigue, and being much heated with 
 his journey. 
 
 Mangeli looked anxiously at his burning 
 forehead, where the wine, of which he had 
 so recently partaken, kindled an unwonted 
 fire. 
 
 " You are not well, Kazim. Oh ! if any 
 thing had happened— if any thing should hap- 
 pen to you — what is to become of Mangeli ?" 
 
 " Fear not ! He who sees the sparrow fall, 
 and the rose-bud blow, will take care of you, 
 whatever may be my fate. Let us pray to him 
 that he may stretch over us the shield of his 
 merciful protection !"
 
 22 NOIJRMAIIAL. 
 
 The young pair having hastily finished their 
 humble meal, knelt down side by side, and 
 prostrating themselves on the floor, uttered a 
 short but fervent supplication to Allah, fall of 
 gratitude for their escape from the perils of the 
 day, and entreating his assistance, that by lead- 
 ing a just and innocent life, they might still, in 
 some degree, merit his continued favour. They 
 then retired to an inner chamber, where, upon a 
 bed of dry leaves, fragrant of herbs, they gave 
 themselves up to sleep, from which they waked 
 not until the sun had already dispersed the 
 mists from the valley and the mountain. 
 
 *^ I wish you very much, Kazim," said Man- 
 geli, after their morning repast was over, " to 
 look at those yellow rose trees in front of our 
 cottage. The flower has been by no means so 
 large or so beautiful this year as usual. Per- 
 haps it would be well to transplant them to a 
 spot where they may have freer air.'" 
 
 Kazim went out as she desired ; but as he 
 looked at the trees, on which a solitary fading 
 rose still remained, he felt a prophetic inspira- 
 tion that he should never see them bloom again. 
 His mind during the night had been harassed 
 by a multitude of dreams, in which horses flying
 
 NOTJRMAHAL. 23 
 
 over fields of battle, palaces, prisons, robbers, 
 and a thousand different objects were mixed 
 together in painful confusion. Mangeli, after 
 putting her little household into order, joined 
 him in the garden, and suggested some other 
 alterations, which might improve its appearance, 
 The lilac trees were growing well ; they would 
 be beautiful in spring, when their flowers would 
 hang in tassels again, preceding all the other 
 delights of the season. The Indian pinks, too, 
 were prosperous ; the sun-flower looked a blaze 
 of gold ; the hollyhock reared its stem aloft, 
 laden with buds, of which there were still many 
 to open their treasures to the bee ; the white 
 jasmine wanted training ; the vine, on which 
 the grapes were just beginning to grow purple, 
 would also require to be pruned. Thus she went 
 on through the space in front of her cottage, pick- 
 ing up here and there the newly fallen leaves, 
 and reminding Kazim of a variety of improve- 
 ments he had promised to make in their 
 little residence before the approach of winter. 
 But Kazim's reflections were engrossed with 
 subjects, of which Mangeli could have then 
 formed no notion. She saw plainly enough 
 that he attended negligently to what she
 
 24 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 said ; but she was not unaccustomed to the fits 
 of abstraction which occasionally came upon 
 him, and she had the good sense to wait in pa- 
 tience until they passed over, finding for her- 
 self, in the meantime, some employment not 
 likely to break in upon his mood. 
 
 Kazim, however, was very far from being in- 
 different to the appearance of the garden, which 
 he had cultivated with his own hand ; and per- 
 haps he never looked upon the fruits or flowers, 
 whose progress he had watched from their earliest 
 stages, with a deeper interest than at this mo- 
 ment. Offers were made to him, which, if ac- 
 cepted, would of necessity change the whole plan 
 of his hfe. Was he to accept them ? Was he 
 to quit for ever his own cottage, the shade of 
 his own fig-tree, the little world of happiness 
 and peace he found with Mangeli among his 
 flowers, and the volumes of history, science, 
 poetry, and popular fiction, he had copied while 
 at Samarcand ? 
 
 Back upon his memory came crowding the 
 long winter nights, during which he cheered his 
 beloved wife and her affectionate parent, by 
 reading to them tales of Arabian writers, in 
 which marvels of the most enchanting descrip-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 25 
 
 tion were made to appear as matters of ordinary 
 life. The tempest roared through the gorges 
 of the mountain, the rain rushed from the skies, 
 and swept against the walls of their cottage with 
 the fury of a torrent; but the door was well 
 secured, the window closed tightly by a board' 
 that admitted not a breath of air ; the fire burned 
 bright in the hearth; Mangeli's eyes drank 
 fresh light from the animated looks of Kazim ; 
 Gulbeg reclined at his ease upon the woolly side 
 of a sheep-skin ; the goats and their young were 
 carefully housed ; and while the wonders of the 
 magic lamp, or the powers of the magnetic 
 mountain, or the beauties of the city of Bagdad, 
 kept the souls of the reader and his small audi- 
 ence enthralled, they took little note of time, 
 the rain, or the storm. 
 
 With the seasons changes came, and every 
 change was delightful. The snow-drop and the 
 crocus told that the winter was passed, and the 
 primrose confirmed their tale. With what plea- 
 sure did Kazim collect for Mangeli the earliest 
 violets and daisies ! How he loved to gather 
 for her hair the lillies of the valley, with which 
 she decorated herself on the holidays ! There 
 was no flower, were it ever so humble, which he 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 had been accustomed to see near his cottage, 
 or in the decUvities or valleys in its neighbour- 
 hood, that had not now for him a peculiar in- 
 erest. They seemed to reproach the seductive 
 ambition so suddenly kindled in his breast, 
 and to remind him of the folly of exchanging 
 the peace of mind he now, or at least very 
 lately, enjoyed, for a state of splendour which, 
 however brilliant on the outside, would be sure 
 to have misery at its core. 
 
 While these reflections pursued each other 
 through his mind, he found himself walking 
 with unusual rapidity along the banks of the 
 Ilamish. He felt glad that he was alone, as 
 he wished to allow free scope to the visions to 
 which the occurrences of the previous day had 
 given birth. Who was Suleiman ? Who was 
 Seirami? That they were both of a superior 
 order of men he entertained no doubt. The sen- 
 tences he had heard of their conversation were 
 marked by a polished, yet natural eloquence of 
 expression, which had not met his ear since he 
 quitted Samarcand. This was of itself a fasci- 
 nation to a youth, brought up as he was in the 
 company of the most sage and accomplished 
 men of the East. But was he fit to be a soldier ?
 
 NOURMAHAL. 27 
 
 That he could follow through any dangers a 
 chieftain to whom he had pledged his faith, he 
 felt confident ; but wholly unskilled as he was 
 in the use of the spear, the sabre, or the bow, 
 he feared that in a hot engagement, his arm 
 would be found of very little use. And then, 
 if he should fall thus early in his youth, when 
 he had seen little more than his twentieth sum- 
 mer, whither would have sped all the day- 
 dreams of celebrity in which his fancy had so 
 often indulged ? But above all, what would be 
 the fate of Mangeli and their child ? Her father, 
 already bending under infirmity, could not live 
 much longer ; and who would then remain to 
 tend the goats, to cultivate their rice-field ; to 
 take care of their garden, which supplied so 
 great a part of their subsistence ; to gather the 
 wild strawberries and other fruits, which grew 
 on the distant hills ? 
 
 Kazim, stretching himself at full-length on 
 the bank of the clear and rapid river, fixed his 
 eyes upon the water, and envied the peace ap- 
 parently enjoyed by its numerous tenants, now 
 leaping to the surface of the stream, and leav- 
 ing behind them a dimple, that circled wider 
 and wider until it broke against the reeds on 
 c2
 
 28 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 either side — now hiding in the shade of a water- 
 lily, — now shining in the light like scales of 
 silver. Sometimes a solitary bee passed by, 
 murmuring, and searching the wild flowers 
 that grew around him. He thought of the 
 summer-days, when the soft music of the insect 
 would have soothed him to sleep ; but now it 
 was a song of rural industry and contentment, 
 which he was, perhaps, to hear no more. The 
 bee had its secret home hard by, to which it 
 would soon return, laden with the treasures it 
 had collected, and thus it would pursue its 
 pleasing occupations while the season per- 
 mitted. He had also his home, remote from 
 the world, where, for three years, he had found 
 happiness, unalloyed by care ; what would he 
 gain by exchanging it for the turmoil in which 
 he was now invited to partake ? 
 
 From these meditations Kazim was at length 
 disturbed by the shrill call of Mangeli, which, 
 uttered at her cottage-door, floated through the 
 air, reaching the hill-sides where her father 
 was stationed with the goats. It was the sig- 
 nal that their mid-day meal wa& nearly pre- 
 pared, and that their immediate return was 
 expected. Kazim rose abruptly, feeling as if
 
 NOURMAHAL. 29 
 
 he had been engaged in thoughts that would 
 afford no pleasure to Mangeli; but as he 
 bent his steps homeward, he half resolved 
 on giving up all the ambitious prospects dis- 
 closed to his view, rather than abandon the 
 solitude in which he enjoyed so much real 
 felicity. 
 
 '* The life of man is at best but a moment," 
 he said to himself, '* as compared with the 
 ages that have passed, and are to come. What 
 is distinction, fame, splendour, station ? If I 
 be happy here, it is sufficient. I will stay with 
 my vines and rose-trees, and will immediately 
 set about the alterations of which Mangeli has 
 reminded me." 
 
 As Gulbeg sat down on the floor, to par- 
 take of the humble meal which Mangeli had 
 provided, he said that something of import- 
 ance must be going on in Arjun, for he had 
 seen several couriers riding over the distant 
 ridges of the mountains, as if their horses had 
 wings, and they had no fear of the precipices 
 over which they galloped with the speed of 
 arrows. He had also heard from the hollows 
 of the earth those extraordinary sounds of 
 drum and trumpet, which seem to accompany
 
 30 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 the marching of innumerable troops, and always 
 precede the approach of a battle. 
 
 Kazim looked conscious, while Mangeli lis- 
 tened to the intelligence with breathless atten- 
 tion ; but he made no remark, fearful of trust- 
 ing himself on a subject which he now hoped 
 he might soon altogether forget. While they 
 were still at their meal, the quick ear of Man- 
 geli caught the sound of a Mogul horn, which 
 she said must have been borne from some dis- 
 tance along the current of the Ilamish, Gul- 
 beg rose upon his feet, and going out, placed 
 his ear close to the ground, when he confirmed 
 what his daughter said ; and added, that it was 
 a party of cavalry, as he heard the paces of 
 their horses distinctly, and that they would be 
 immediately in sight. 
 
 He had scarcely said the word, when a small 
 blackness, like a patch of thunder-cloud, was 
 seen on the summit of one of the mountains 
 through which the Ilamish ran. By degrees 
 the cloud became larger and less dense, and 
 then approaching nearer and nearer, it seemed 
 to open out, breaking into small masses, which 
 moved together with great rapidity. Presently 
 horse-tail standards became distinctly visible,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 31 
 
 and then horses and their riders galloping in 
 close array, their spears in rest, and their 
 naked sabres glistening in the sun. 
 
 On they came at full speed, the trumpet now 
 and then flinging its wild blast through the 
 mountains and forest around, which was echoed 
 along the river. The cottage of Gulbeg was 
 evidently the object towards which they di- 
 rected their progress, and in a few moments a 
 thousand warriors were in front of it, their sad- 
 dles and stirrups all covered with foam, and 
 their arms clattering as they came to a halt. 
 Gulbeg and Kazim went forth to offer them 
 such hospitality as their. hut afforded. Man- 
 geli instinctively fled to her chamber. 
 
 The leader of the troop, a Mogul chieftain, 
 throwing off his cloak, alighted, and saluting 
 Gulbeg and Kazim, proceeded with them into 
 the cottage. He was dressed in a long frock 
 of China satin, ornamented with flowered 
 needle-work, loose trowsers of the same mate- 
 rial over which his boots were drawn, a cui- 
 rass of steel, near which hung a whetstone and 
 a purse-pocket, the latter being ornamented 
 with trinkets that dangled from it, not unhke 
 a lady's necklace. His cap was embroidered
 
 32 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 with flowers; his bow was slung upon his 
 back, and his quiver of green shagreen, well 
 stored with arrows, sounded, as he moved along 
 in all the pride of a commander. 
 
 *' I wish to know," said he, as stooping down 
 he entered through the low door of the cottage, 
 *' whether you can give us any information of 
 Acbar, who calls himself the emperor of Hin- 
 dostan, and whose steps we have traced with 
 certainty to this neighbourhood/' 
 
 Gulbeg answered at once that he had not re- 
 ceived the slightest intimation that such a person 
 ever visited those parts. He was constantly out 
 in the mountains, and in the habit of meeting 
 several goat-herds and peasants passing to and 
 from different quarters of the country, but he 
 had heard none of them pronounce the name of 
 Acbar; nor had he seen any troops for some 
 years, until the appearance of those who were 
 now before the cottage. Kazim added, that he 
 had, indeed, heard of Acbar, while he was a 
 student at Samarcand ; but that since then he 
 had no tidings whatever of the exploits of that 
 great warrior. The stranger, he thought, could 
 not be Mirtas. 
 
 " Justly said — a great warrior he is indeed
 
 NOURMAHAL. 33 
 
 — a commander of infinite resources and bra- 
 very ; but whose ambition knows no bounds. He 
 tramples upon our relatives and friends, as if 
 they were no better than the dirt beneath his 
 feet. He takes from them their provinces and 
 their wealth, which he adds to his own, and not 
 contented with the conquests he has made in 
 Cashmere and Lahore, and other parts of Hin- 
 dostan, he now seeks to extend his empire be- 
 yond the Himalas, and to make us all tributa- 
 ries to his lawless power. But, I swear, it shall 
 not be ! No ; sooner than our standards should 
 be planted around him, I would tear them 
 asunder, and scatter them on the winds, and 
 become, myself and all my brave followers, the 
 food of the vulture." 
 
 The countenance of the young chieftain 
 flashed with fire ; while, with an angry gesticu- 
 lation, he gave expression to the feelings of 
 fierce hostility which he entertained towards 
 Acbar. 
 
 '^ Aye," continued the stranger, " the sultan's 
 military renown has already reached every 
 quarter of Asia, and filled the rulers of the pro- 
 vinces on this side of the Himalas with just 
 alarm. His plan of tactics is all his own. He 
 c 6
 
 34 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 sometimes enters the camp of his enemy at 
 night, with a handful of men, at a moment when 
 he is supposed to be at a considerable distance. 
 Surprise effects in an hour, what he might not 
 have been able to accomplish for months with a 
 regular army at his command. His personal 
 bravery is indeed equal to any enterprize which 
 a fearless mind can conceive, and his followers 
 make up by their amazing activity and practised 
 discipUne for their want of numbers. But Allah 
 be with you ! then we must go on," said the 
 khan, quitting the hut and returning to his 
 troops, accompanied by Kazim ; who, forgetting 
 his half-formed resolutions in the midst of the 
 martial pomp by which the stranger was sur- 
 rounded, asked him whether he was acquainted 
 with the noble warrior Mirtas. 
 
 " I am Mirtas," replied the Khan. 
 
 " Doubtless, then, you must know Suleiman." 
 
 " Suleiman is my cousin. Oh ! that he were 
 now with me, accompanied by a few of his 
 mountaineers ! I should then have no fears of 
 Acbar." 
 
 " Suleiman expects your highness, and has 
 charged me to conduct you to his camp." 
 
 " Welcome intelligence ! Is it far hence ?"
 
 NOURMAHAL. 35 
 
 " About five or six hours' journey in that di- 
 rection," answered Kazim, pointing to the east. 
 
 A beautiful Arabian steed was immediately 
 placed at Kazim's disposal, who, after taking a 
 hasty leave of Gulbeg and Mangeli, and pro- 
 mising that he would speedily return, rode into 
 the circle, where the Khan was communicating 
 to his followers the tidings he had received. 
 The standards being then placed beside the 
 chieftain, all the men dismounted ; and having 
 taken from their saddles leathern bottles of 
 humiz, sprinkled some first towards the stand- 
 ards, and then drank off a portion. The trum- 
 pets and drums struck up together, the humiz 
 was again and again sprinkled as before, after 
 which the soldiers thrice rent the air with the 
 war-shout. They then leaped into their saddles, 
 drawing their sabres, which they brandished 
 over their heads, and putting their horses to 
 full speed, pursued their way towards the moun- 
 tains.
 
 36 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Thou chastening friend, Adversity ! 'tis thine 
 The mental ore to temper and refine, 
 To cast in virtue's mould the yielding heart, 
 And honour's polish to the mind impart. 
 Without thy vrakening touch, thy plastic aid, 
 I'd lain the shapeless mass that nature made ; 
 But formed, great artist, by thy magic hand, 
 I gleam a sword to conquer and command. 
 
 Caeawash. 
 
 GuLBEG, who anxiously observed every thing 
 that passed, concluded that Kazim had been 
 taken into the ranks of the Khan as a guide 
 through the difficult passes towards which their 
 course was now directed. He endeavoured to 
 console MangeU with the hope that her husband 
 would return again at night ; but she, clasping 
 her hands together, like one overwhelmed with 
 sudden despair, appeared to give him up as lost
 
 NOURMAHAL. 37 
 
 to her for ever. She watched the troopers, as, 
 ascending the mountain side, they followed each 
 other in narrow files, winding in and out through 
 the dark ravines which now concealed them 
 from her view, now permitted them to be dimly 
 seen, their standard tops occasionally reflecting 
 a sunbeam, and marking their course. Long 
 after the last horseman had been out of sight, 
 she listened for the sound of the trumpet, per- 
 suading her father that she could still hear its 
 faint echoes ; — but he saw that it was a delusion 
 of her senses, and was filled with apprehension, 
 lest the shock which she had received might be 
 productive of fatal consequences. With diffi- 
 culty he drew her from the door, and resting her 
 head upon his bosom, he appealed to her by 
 every tender feeling — by the thought of what 
 she owed to Kazim, and to the delicate fruit 
 which depended upon her for existence — to dis- 
 sipate her alarm and to confide in the providence 
 of Allah, who would never fail to protect the 
 virtuous. But she could only call upon the 
 name of Kazim, pressing her temples with her 
 hands, as if she felt that her reason was about 
 to abandon its throne. 
 
 " Who can that be ?" asked the Khan, point-
 
 38 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 ing to a horseman whom he descried at some 
 distance in a valley which they had now 
 entered. " If he were a friend, he would have 
 waited for us ; but I observed that the moment 
 the first standards appeared in sight, he gave 
 the rein to his steed. See, he flies as if for his 
 life !" 
 
 The officers thus questioned, could offer no 
 conjecture on the subject. After proceeding 
 through the valley, they entered one of the 
 passes described in the chart which Seirami had 
 shown to Kazim ; but it was so narrow and 
 precipitous, that they were frequently obliged 
 to dismount, in order to lead their horses over 
 rugged rocks, and by the edges of tremen- 
 dous gulphs, which every moment threatened 
 them with destruction. One of the soldiers, 
 who affected to excel his companions in travel- 
 ling over such dreadful steeps, as those that 
 now lay before them, refused to alight, and 
 dashed forward against a precipice which 
 seemed almost inaccessible. The animal 
 climbed the rock with unflinching spirit, 
 but just as he placed his hoof on the top of 
 the ledge, the mass loosened from the crumb- 
 ling ruin to which it belonged, and horse and
 
 NOURMAHAL. 39 
 
 rider rolled backward into a dark abyss, where 
 they instantly disappeared. " Curse upon these 
 defiles," exclaimed the chieftain, his brow black- 
 ening with anger ; " one of my bravest followers 
 already lost ! I cannot but think," he added, 
 addressing Kazim in a pointed manner, "that 
 Suleiman might have pointed out a less difficult 
 pass than this, by which we might arrive at his 
 camp. See, we are now quite overhung by 
 precipices, which seem ready to crush us to 
 atoms !" 
 
 Kazim assured the Khan that he knew of no 
 other entrance to the valley, where he expected 
 to find Suleiman's camp. After treading their 
 way slowly through the intricate defile, they at 
 length emerged on a kind of path that con- 
 ducted them along the side of a river, to the 
 opening of a wild glen, strongly illuminated by 
 the fierce red light of the sun, as it was just de- 
 scending behind the tops of the mountains, 
 whose snowy peaks were mantled in a purple 
 haze. The glen opened out gradually into an 
 extensive valley, through which the river rolled 
 its deep and rapid current. As the Khan and 
 his followers entered the valley, they were 
 surprised to see the pass they had just left,
 
 40 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 occupied by a dark mass of troops, who came 
 rapidly after them without any sound of drum 
 or trumpet. He collected his men as quickly 
 as possible, but before they could form into re- 
 gular array, a shower of arrows fell upon them 
 from the sides of the mountain above. 
 
 The division in the pass below rushed for- 
 ward in a small but compact column, shouting 
 the name of Suleiman. Mirtas called out in a 
 loud voice, that he was the friend of Suleiman 
 and not his foe, and that he came to assist him 
 in the war against Acbar. Upon this, the ad- 
 vancing party halted, and demanded hostages 
 for the truth of his representation. Kazim was 
 summoned, and sent forward to clear up the 
 mystery. He was forthwith arrested by Sulei- 
 man himself, and ordered to the rear, while the 
 chieftain and his foremost companions fell on 
 the troops of Mirtas with a wild shout, which 
 called down the men stationed on the declivities. 
 Mirtas and his Moguls, though altogether un- 
 prepared for so rude a reception, sustained the 
 shock with great firmness, and the two armies 
 were, in an instant, committed in general battle. 
 The clash of sabre against sabre, and on cuirass 
 and helmet, — the neighing of horses running
 
 NOURMAHAL. 41 
 
 here and there, deprived of their riders — the 
 groans of the wounded and dying — the uproar 
 of the combatants, reproaching each other with 
 treachery, and calling upon the names of their 
 respective leaders, filled the whole valley with a 
 wild tumult, which shook the stupendous 
 mountains around them. 
 
 The horse-tail standards, which had been at 
 first cut down one after another with irresisti- 
 ble rapidity, were thickening in the fight again, 
 and were waving among the lifted sabres, with 
 a triumph that predicted the defeat of Sulei- 
 man. That commander, together with the mass 
 of his soldiers, was driven back to te edge of 
 the glen ; but like a wave, impelled against the 
 rocky shore, they rebounded on their foes, send- 
 ing after them, as they retired, a shower of arrows, 
 which, however, broke in most instances upon 
 the cuirasses of the riders, or the mail with 
 which the horses were caparisoned. Suleiman 
 felt that if the enemy had time to form them- 
 selves into line, and to press upon him with 
 their spears, in the use of which his followers 
 were less skilful than the Moguls, the battle 
 was lost. Singling out Mirtas, who was some- 
 what advanced before his troops, as they were
 
 42 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 returning to the charge, he drew from his 
 quiver a green-tipped barbed arrow ; and throw- 
 ing the rein upon the neck of his horse, he 
 placed the arrow on the notch, with as much 
 eoolness as if he had been sporting in the j un- 
 gle. Then drawing the string right up to his 
 ear, he sent the arrow against the foe, which, pe- 
 netrating his cap, passed through without doing 
 any injury. The assault was returned by a 
 javelin, hurled with gigantic force, and a fatal 
 aim, from the ranks behind Mirtas. One of 
 Suleiman's captains, seeing the blood gushing 
 in a stream upon the ground, took hold of the 
 rein of his chieftain's horse, and leading it to- 
 ward the river, rushed with it headlong into the 
 water. Mirtas, directing one division of his 
 troops to follow the mass of the enemy, who 
 now endeavoured to find their way back 
 through the glen, led the other in pursuit of 
 Suleiman. 
 
 Before Suleiman and his companion could 
 reach the opposite bank, Mirtas and his fol- 
 lowers were already plunged in the stream. 
 The horses of both parties soon sank beyond 
 their depth, and several of the men were 
 drowned, who had not taken the precaution to
 
 NOURMAHAL. 43 
 
 disencumber their steeds of their heavy trap- 
 pings. Suleiman had already gained upon the 
 enemy by more than the distance of a bow-shot, 
 and reached the bank, which his steed gal- 
 lantly ascended, when one of the troopers of 
 Mirtas discovered a little farther down the 
 stream a ford, by which they at once crossed 
 the river. Suleiman's companion, taking off 
 the accoutrements from his own horse, placed 
 the bridle in the hand of his chieftain, who 
 made for the hills, pursued by Mirtas. The 
 steed of the latter, oppressed by the armour it 
 still wore, fell among the crags, which he now 
 began to clamber. Suleiman's horse also began 
 to falter ; but notwithstanding the pain he felt 
 from his wound, he threw himself on the un- 
 caparisoned animal, and gained in safety the 
 nearest ridges of the mountain. 
 
 It was now night, the air piercingly cold, 
 when the solitary fugitive, not knowing whither 
 to turn, took shelter from the blast behind an 
 immense rock, which he perceived by the fad- 
 ing light at some distance. The enemy still 
 kept tracking him ; and though now reduced 
 to three in number, they were resolved, if pos- 
 sible, to capture him. The pursuers and the
 
 44 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 pursued spent the night, without knowing that 
 they were within a very short distance of each 
 other. As soon as the first light of morning 
 appeared, one of the Moguls climbed the rock, 
 with the view of making a survey of the coun- 
 try around, when, to his surprise, he found 
 Suleiman already mounted, and tranquilly pro- 
 ceeding towards a pile of loose stones, which 
 had been collected on the top of a steep ridge. 
 The scout informed his comrades of what he 
 had seen, and thinking that they had the w^ar- 
 rior already in their grasp, they hastily followed 
 him. 
 
 They were at the foot of the steep, when 
 Suleiman, who had reached the summit w^ith 
 great difficulty, deliberately lifting up a pon- 
 derous mass of rock, threatened to annihilate 
 the first man who attempted to follow him a 
 single step farther. At the same he assured 
 them, that if they would become his friends, 
 swearing to him the great and awful oath as a 
 pledge for their fidelity, he would raise them 
 to high stations in his empire, besides bestow- 
 ing upon them other magnificent rewards. The 
 Moguls alarmed on the one hand, by the pro- 
 spect of destruction which impended over them.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 45 
 
 and tempted on the other by the splendid offers 
 of Suleiman, after consulting among them- 
 selves, replied, that they accepted his terms, 
 and then swore the sacred oath which he de- 
 manded. 
 
 The dilEculty now was how Suleiman should 
 descend the mountain, without coming in con- 
 tact with any of the followers of Mirtas. Per- 
 ceiving already a number of men passing at 
 some distance on the plains below, he fled to 
 the hillock, where he had concealed himself 
 the night before, and waited there until the 
 party reached a turn in the road, where they 
 were no longer visible. Being without pro- 
 visions, he suggested that one of his new com- 
 rades should proceed to buy some at the cot- 
 tages, which were at a distance in a forest, 
 where several wreaths of smoke were seen curl- 
 ing upward above the trees. One of the men 
 went, and returned in about three hours, laden 
 with a few cakes of barley bread, which he pur- 
 chased for a sabre. 
 
 While they were on the brow of the moun- 
 tain, and lying prostrate, lest they might be dis- 
 cerned from below, they descried something shin- 
 ing at a considerable distance. It approached
 
 46 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 gradually, until it resolved itself into a man on 
 horseback, clothed in complete armour. Hav- 
 ing passed into a ravine, he was lost for a 
 while to their gaze ; soon after he emerged 
 again, when Suleiman recognised upon the man 
 his own suit of splendid armour, which he 
 very seldom wore, although it usually formed 
 a part of his camp-baggage. In the man also 
 he discovered one of his own followers, Mirza 
 Kuli, who had been with him in several of his 
 battles, and had hitherto conducted himself 
 with unquestionable fidelity. Suleiman called 
 out to him by name, not doubting that he would 
 be glad to join his commander again. But to 
 his infinite surprise, the traveller, without look- 
 ing up, answered in a gruff husky voice, alto- 
 gether unlike that of Kuli, saying that he knew 
 them not, and had no time for compliments. 
 Suleiman, lamenting that his arrow could pro- 
 duce no effect against the recreant, nevertheless 
 sent one after him, which struck the horse, and 
 only spurred the animal to a greater degree of 
 expedition. Suleiman had sometimes been un- 
 fortunate in battle before, but he never ex- 
 perienced so gross an instance of ingratitude as 
 this. It convinced him, however, that his cause,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 47 
 
 of which he had not yet despaired, must have 
 been considered by his followers as totally lost, 
 since Kuli thought proper not only to abandon 
 him, but even to be ashamed of his acquain- 
 tance.
 
 48 NOURM.AHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 In the hour of adversity be not without hope ; 
 For crystal rain falls from black clouds. 
 
 NiZAMI. 
 
 As the day advanced, Suleiman learned from 
 some peasants, who were crossing the mountains 
 on their way home from Karaman, that they 
 had met several groups of armed men proceed- 
 ing towards the town, some walking, some on 
 horseback, some badly wounded, preceded by 
 two persons unarmed, who were mounted on 
 Arabian steeds. It struck Suleiman, from the 
 description given of the two latter individuals, 
 that they could be no other than Baba Seirami 
 and Kazim, as these were the only unarmed 
 persons present at the late battle. He concluded 
 also, with his usual sanguine hastiness of thought.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 49 
 
 that the stragglers must have been the remains 
 of his own party, intending to seek refuge in 
 Karaman, and perhaps to wait there until they 
 should learn some tidings of their commander. 
 Although his wound still gave him some pain, 
 yet he resolved on directing his course towards 
 the town, but not to enter it until he satisfied 
 himself as to the means of safety which it might 
 afford him. His sworn friends the more readily 
 agreed to accompany him, as they entertained 
 the hope that the troops to whom the peasants 
 alluded were of their own party. 
 
 As soon as evening approached, Suleiman 
 and his companions led their horses down the 
 mountain, to the road which the peasants pointed 
 out ; and after journeying for four hours, they 
 perceived by the twinkling of lights in the dis- 
 tance, that they were within a short distance of 
 Karaman. Instead, however, of riding directly 
 to the gate, Suleiman expressed his determina- 
 tion to take up his residence for the night in 
 one of the retired gardens, by which the town 
 is nearly surrounded. There finding a hut, 
 which seemed to have been used only during 
 the summer, and was now abandoned, they at 
 once fixed upon it for their temporary abode. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 While one of the men proceeded undercover 
 of the night to make enquiries in Karaman, 
 another foraged about among the cottages in 
 the suburbs, and soon returned with a dish of 
 pottage of boiled millet flour, which Suleiman 
 declared to be the most delicious meal he had 
 ever enjoyed. The purveyor picked up also on 
 his expedition an old cloak of coarse woven 
 cloth, lined with lamb's-skin, with the wool on 
 the inside, in which Suleiman wrapped himself, 
 and went to sleep, his two companions alter- 
 nately watching during the night. 
 
 The Mogul, who had been dispatched to 
 Karaman, returned to the hut early in the morn- 
 ing, with intelligence, that Baba Seirami and 
 Kazim were in the town, together with about 
 fifty of Suleiman's troops, who had escaped 
 from the field of battle ; but from the manner 
 in which he had heard the chieftain spoken of 
 in the town, in consequence of his flight from 
 the combat, he expressed great apprehension 
 for Suleiman's safety, should his defeated fol- 
 lowers discover his abode. He, therefore, ad- 
 vised the chieftain to remain in the hut, until 
 an opportunity should off'er for learning the 
 result of an inquiry, which he had set on foot
 
 NOURMAHAL. 51 
 
 through one Kadi-Bardi, a bridle-maker in 
 the town, with a view to sound the feelings of 
 the soldiers. Bardi had promised to make all 
 possible haste to the garden, as soon as he 
 should have obtained the requisite intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 Suleiman, much afflicted by the information 
 thus laid before him, desired writing materials 
 to be procured — an order which was executed 
 not without considerable difficulty and delay. 
 Having written a letter, fully describing his 
 deplorable situation, he addressed it to Baba 
 Seirarai, in whose fidelity he reposed unshaken 
 confidence, and he anxiously expected the ap- 
 pearance of the Karamanian, to whom he in- 
 tended to commit the epistle. But noon passed 
 away, the shades of evening were already be- 
 ginning to rise, and still no messenger found his 
 way to the hut. One of the Moguls, he ob- 
 served, was frequently absent during the day, 
 under pretext of seeking for provisions, which 
 it was not his good fortune to find. The con- 
 duct of this man looked rather suspicious ; it 
 seemed as if he was in communication with 
 some party, who had designs of a sinister 
 nature. 
 
 D 2
 
 52 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 While Suleiman was anxiously gazing from 
 the door of the hut, towards the little path that 
 led to the town, an apparently aged lame der- 
 vish approached him, clothed in miserable at- 
 tire, which bespoke the very lowest degree of 
 poverty. Reproaching Suleiman, in rude and 
 boisterous language, for taking possession of 
 the hut, which, during that season of the year, 
 became usually his abode, he boldly demanded 
 compensation for the use of it, and the im- 
 mediate departure of the illegitimate tenant. 
 The chieftain, fallen as he was, retained suffi- 
 cient dignity of mind to feel rather amazed 
 than offended, by the coarse expressions ad- 
 dressed to him, and, without further ceremony, 
 directed his companions to look about in the 
 gardens for another deserted hut, which they 
 could hardly fail to find. 
 
 While they were searching about in different 
 directions, the dervish whispered into his ear 
 that he was betrayed ; that his foe, Mirtas, in- 
 formed of his arrival, was preparing to set out 
 from Karaman, attended by a large body of 
 troops, who had entered the town the day be- 
 fore with prisoners; and that in less than an 
 hour he would be delivered up, bound hand and
 
 NOURMAHAL. 53 
 
 foot, into the power of the Mogul, unless he 
 forthwith escaped from the hut. 
 
 Suleiman, astounded by this information, 
 hesitated to give it credit ; when the dervish, 
 pointing to the chieftain's companions on the 
 outside, bade him observe the caution they 
 exercised, by not going out of sight of the 
 hut in which he was, and suggested that his 
 only course of safety was to take flight, after 
 exchanging his uniform for the tattered gar- 
 ments which he, the dervish, now had on. 
 
 The appearance of two or three Mogul horse- 
 men, entering a distant part of the garden, dis- 
 persed the doubts that still lingered in the 
 mind of Suleiman. While acting on the ad- 
 vice of the dervish, he learned from him that 
 Baba Seirami, and Kazim Ay as, two of the prin- 
 cipal prisoners, were sentenced to be drawn 
 asunder by wild horses on the following morn- 
 ing ; and that, if the other prisoners had not 
 consented to follow the standard of Mirtas, they 
 also would have had to undergo a similar fate. 
 
 The defection of his followers scarcely excited 
 any emotion in the breast of the once formida- 
 ble chieftain. He had been in some measure 
 already inured to adversity ; but the fate im-
 
 54 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 pending over his faithful friend and adviser 
 Seirami, and Kazim, in whose fortunes the der- 
 vish took a lively interest, called forth expres- 
 sions of his fiercest anger. He resolved, be the 
 consequences what they might, to go to Kara- 
 man in his new disguise, to find out his two 
 friends, and, if possible, to rescue them from 
 the ignominious and dreadful death, to which 
 they had been doomed by Mirtas, 
 
 Suleiman, arrayed in the garb of the dervish, 
 with a staff in his hand, a weather-worn pointed 
 cap on his head, which came down to his eye- 
 brows, and an old shawl in shreds fastened 
 round his neck, in which his chin was deeply 
 buried, had the satisfaction to find himself 
 jeered at as an impudent old fool, while he 
 limped by one of his late Mogul companions, 
 who was returning to the hut. Being desirous 
 of avoiding the troops of Mirtas, on their way 
 to the garden, where they expected to find their 
 prey, he hastened to Karaman, by a road that 
 led to the gate which was at the opposite side 
 of the town. 
 
 After wandering for some time through the 
 streets, already darkened by the night, and 
 quite deserted by the inhabitants, who had re-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 55 
 
 tired to repose, he despaired of finding any 
 roof beneath which he might expect to obtain 
 shelter; when, turning the comer of a filthy 
 narrow lane, he heard two or three persons con- 
 versing together near the gate of a caravanserai, 
 at which they were standing. From what he 
 could collect of their conversation, he thought 
 at first that they were disputing about the 
 division of some booty which they had stolen. 
 On drawing nearer, however, he learned from 
 their debate, that the plunder was not yet ac- 
 quired, but that they were concerting measures 
 for a robbery, which required a considerable 
 degree of courage, and of cunning at the same 
 time. The point in discussion was, which of 
 the three was to ascend first to the floor where 
 their destined victims lay. 
 
 " Of the three guards below," said one of the 
 robbers, " I have no fear — these I have made 
 drunk already ; — and I have mixed with their 
 humiz a quantity of poppy, which will keep 
 them asleep for some hours. But those sol- 
 diers of Suleiman have, they say, a hundred 
 lives — they are demons ; and although the gir- 
 dle of Suleiman's purse-bearer is a tempting 
 prize, yet I will not be the first to ascend ; I
 
 56 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 have done my part already, by ascertaining for 
 you, that his girdle is well stored with golden 
 rupees.'* 
 
 *^ It is too great a prize to lose," observed 
 another, " now that the way is clear ; besides 
 you know that they are to be drawn asun- 
 der by wild horses, in the market-place, by sun- 
 rise to-morrow, — then our chances will be gone 
 for ever." 
 
 *' Let me have another cup or two of humiz," 
 said the third, '* and then, perhaps, I may go 
 first, provided you swear to follow me quietly, 
 until we are all together on the floor, lest they 
 should awake and ofler resistance ; for though 
 they are tied hand and foot by chains of iron, 
 they might break loose, and pitch us down 
 head foremost into the stable.'' 
 
 *' Agreed," exclaimed his confederates ; and 
 pulling the gate gently to, they adjourned to a 
 low hut hard by, where they were admitted upon 
 giving a peculiar tap, with which the inmates 
 seemed to be well acquainted. 
 
 Suleiman congratulated himself on his good 
 fortune, in ove^'hearing this conversation. The 
 robber was rightly informed that Seirami had 
 about him a considerable quantity of gold.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 57 
 
 This circumstance alone, even if it had not been 
 aided by the other facts to which the robbers 
 alluded, would have been sufficient to fix the 
 identity of the unfortunate prisoners, whom it 
 was the determination of these villains to plun- 
 der. Promptly availing himself of the oppor- 
 tunity thus presented to him so unexpectedly, 
 of contributing to the double deliverance of his 
 friends, he entered the stable, where, by the light 
 of an iron lamp affixed to the wall, he perceived 
 several horses lying down, and near them three 
 of the Moguls, who belonged to Mirtas, snoring 
 in profound sleep. The head of one of these 
 vigilant sentinels was resting on a notched pole, 
 which was the only means of ascent to the loft 
 above. Suleiman gently removed it, and lifting 
 the pole, he mounted the loft, bringing with 
 him several pieces of long grass ropes which he 
 found strewed about the stable. 
 
 His first care was, by the assistance of one 
 of these ropes, to let the pole fall down as 
 nearly as possible in the direction where it had 
 already lain. He then drew up the rope, and 
 having made a running knot at the end of it, 
 slung it over one of the beams of the roof. Two 
 other ropes he adjusted in a similar manner. 
 D 5
 
 58 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 He had scarcely finished these arrangements, 
 when he heard the door open below, and the 
 robbers, who appeared to be all intoxicated, 
 entered the stable. The foremost had in his 
 hand a small lamp, which he hghted. They then 
 fumbled about until they found the notched 
 pole, which they raised up towards the edge 
 of the loft. The man who had promised to 
 ascend first made the attempt accordingly ; but 
 he slipped down three or four times before he 
 could raise himself by as many of the notches. 
 At length, by the assistance of his associates, 
 he rose half-way, when he lifted himself slowly 
 until his head appeared above the floor. Here 
 a large noose was waiting his presence, which 
 fell imperceptibly upon his shoulders ; in a few 
 moments he ascended with peculiar celerity, 
 much to the dehght of his friends below, who 
 imputed it to the courage infused into him by 
 the humiz. They followed his example, and at 
 the same point of elevation they found the toil 
 of climbing farther altogether unnecessary, for 
 they were raised in a moment by an unseen 
 power to the beam, whence they were launched 
 into a world for which they were little prepared. 
 Suleiman having secured the lamp with which
 
 NOURMAHAL. 59 
 
 the first robber was provided, now explored the 
 loft in order to discover his friends, who were, 
 however, nowhere to be seen. Anxious for 
 securing their escape before the morning broke 
 upon him, he held his breath and listened for a 
 while, hoping to hear them if they were really- 
 near. Presently a low moan caught his ear; 
 it was the dying gasp of one of the robbers ; 
 then a tremendous crash. The rope by which 
 another was suspended had broken ; he first 
 fell upon the floor, and then to the stable below, 
 with a noise that made the horses start upon 
 their feet. 
 
 " There they come !" exclaimed a voice, which 
 Suleiman well knew to be that of Seirami. 
 
 " Oh, Allah ! what is to become of Mangeli !" 
 exclaimed another, whom he easily guessed to 
 be Kazim. 
 
 Suleiman, however, waited with some degree 
 of alarm, fearing that the sentinels must have 
 been awakened by the hubbub. One did get 
 up, and looking wildly about, drew his sabre, 
 and cut oflf the head of the robber who had 
 fallen near him. The weapon then dropped 
 from his hand, and he lay prostrate once more, 
 overcome by slumber.
 
 60 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Beneath tliat tattered robe you'll find 
 A woman's heart — a hero's mind. 
 
 NlZAMI. 
 
 Suleiman, keenly marking the quarter whence 
 the voices had come, now proceeded towards it 
 with the greatest anxiety, holding the lamp be- 
 fore him so as to shew its light along the floor. 
 Upon reaching the extreme end of that part of 
 the caravanserai, he discovered his two friends 
 sitting side by side against the wall, to which 
 he perceived they were both fastened by strong 
 cords passed through an iron ring. Com- 
 manding them in a low tone to preserve the 
 strictest silence, he took off his cap and shawl, 
 and raising the lamp to his face, bade them be 
 of good cheer, for that Allah had sent him to 
 their deliverance. They immediately recog-
 
 NOURMAHAL, 61 
 
 nised the chieftain in his lowly garb, and uttered 
 a fervent prayer of gratitude to Providence, 
 while they both instinctively attempted to rise. 
 But they could scarcely move. In addition to 
 the ligatures by which they were made fast to 
 the wall, iron chains were passed several times 
 round their bodies, which kept them linked to- 
 gether, the ends of the chains being riveted to 
 an iron plate, which defied even the muscular 
 strength of Suleiman. 
 
 Of the fetters by which they were made fast 
 to the wall he easily disencumbered them, by 
 setting fire to the ropes ; but to remove the 
 captives from the caravanserai, without being 
 able to separate them from each other, was a 
 matter of more difficulty. Suleiman's ingenuity, 
 however, had been long exercised in the school 
 of war. Drawing his friends gently towards 
 the edge of the floor, he showed them the two 
 robbers still suspended, who had prepared to 
 strip them of every thing they possessed. Sei- 
 rami could hardly suppress a smile of pleasure 
 at beholding this instance of summary justice. 
 Kazim gazed upon them with a feeling of terror, 
 wondering that men could be found so lost to 
 every sense of humanity as to meditate the
 
 62 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 plunder of two unhappy prisoners, already 
 doomed to the most excruciating species of 
 death. 
 
 Suleiman, feeling the moments gliding rapidly 
 towards day, lost none of them in meditation. 
 He cut the two robbers down, and deposited them 
 near the place where his friends had been con- 
 fined. Then removing the ropes which had been 
 the instruments of his prompt administration of 
 the law, he twisted them together, and fastening 
 one end of the double rope to that of the iron 
 chain which bound Seirami and Kazim together, 
 he pushed them downwards, and permitted 
 them to descend until they were about the height 
 of a steed from the ground below. Fastening 
 the other end of the rope firmly to the top of 
 the notched pole, he rapidly lowered him- 
 self to the ground, and leading one of the 
 horses beneath his friends, he cut the rope 
 with the sabre of the still sleeping sentinel. 
 Seirami and Kazim thus found themselves, like 
 a pair of panniers, on each side of the horse ; 
 and the only difficulty that now remained to 
 be achieved, was the escape of the animal from 
 the stable with its burthen. 
 
 But the preparations of Suleiman were not
 
 NOURMAHAL. 63 
 
 yet concluded. His mind extended its precau- 
 tions to every point, that was connected with an 
 adventure hitherto so propitiously conducted. 
 The dervish, who had risked his life for the 
 preservation of a person on whom, so far as 
 Suleiman remembered, no obligation of service 
 was imposed by any former acts of kindness 
 on his part, would most probably be compelled 
 by torture to disclose the circumstance of lend- 
 ing his ragged garments to the foe of Mirtas. 
 If they could be found on the decapitated rob- 
 ber, whose head might be removed to prevent 
 any doubts as to identity ; if the loft should be 
 ignited, as he took good care it should be, by the 
 burning cordage which he left on the boards ; 
 the cindered remains of the two thieves above 
 would doubtless be considered those of the two 
 condemned captives, while that of the third 
 would be hewed into a thousand pieces, under 
 the persuasion that it had once held the soul of 
 Suleiman. 
 
 Stripping off his tattered robes, he clothed 
 himself in the attire of the headless robber, to 
 whom he quickly transferred his cast-off gar- 
 ments : he then put the culprit's head into a 
 bag, which he slung over his shoulders. His
 
 64 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 next objects were to place the robber outside 
 the door, to open the gate of the stable, to lead 
 out the horse upon which Seirami and Kazim 
 were balanced, to appropriate another steed to 
 his own use, and to effect his departure without 
 disturbing the sentinels, whom, though his in- 
 veterate enemies, he disdained to slay in their 
 sleep. 
 
 The grey of morning was just beginning to 
 shew the domes and minarets of the town, de- 
 fined against the still lingering darkness of the 
 night, when Suleiman moved forward, mounted 
 on an excellent charger, and leading by the 
 rein the other horse, with its double burthen, 
 over which he had thrown one of the sentinel's 
 large cloaks. After wandering through a la- 
 byrinth of narrow streets, not one of which he 
 recognised as having passed through the even- 
 ing before, he found himself in a large square, 
 where preparations were already going on for 
 the execution that was decreed to be consum- 
 mated at sun-rise. Some wild looking figures 
 were collected round a fire in the middle of the 
 square, and near them were fixed strong posts, 
 to which eight horses were tied, whose violent 
 pawing of the earth, incessant neighing and
 
 NOURMAHAL. 65 
 
 plunging, showed that they must have been re- 
 cently brought in from the desert, and peculiarly 
 adapted to be the ministers of the cruel punish- 
 ment decreed by Mirtas. Groups of men were 
 already gathering in from the different streets 
 that led to the square, curious, no doubt, to 
 behold the tragic scene which rumour had 
 taught them to expect. Suleiman, without ad- 
 vancing farther, turned shortly into the nearest 
 lane he could find, but proceeded at no unusual 
 pace, lest he might give rise to suspicion. 
 
 The increasing freshness of the air soon in- 
 spired him with the hope, that he had already 
 reached the suburbs. Passing over a wooden 
 bridge, he looked backwards at the town, which 
 still appeared a dense mass of gloom, although 
 the skies were beginning to be dappled with 
 streaks, that, becoming every moment of a 
 brighter hue, announced the near approach of 
 the sun. Suddenly he beheld the blush of 
 morning surpassed by a column of flame, which 
 rose high in the air from a distant part of the 
 town. Now it sunk, and now it burst forth 
 again with fresh fury, flinging fiery sparkles 
 around, that threatened to involve the whole 
 town in conflagration. Drums were heard
 
 66 ^OURMAHAL. 
 
 beating, and trumpets sounding, and shouts of 
 innumerable voices blended together in fright- 
 ful confusion. One immense burst of flame 
 then shot up into the heavens, after which little 
 more was seen than a pale reflection, that 
 showed itself for a while fitfully, and then ap- 
 peared no more. 
 
 While the attention of the people in the town 
 was thus absorbed by one all-engrossing object, 
 Suleiman pushed forward rapidly through the 
 suburbs, until he reached a blacksmith's forge, 
 where he found a man and a boy already hard 
 at work, unconscious of the alarm that prevailed 
 around them. Stopping at the door of the 
 forge, he called out to the man, telling him that 
 he had a small job, which he wished to be done 
 immediately. The chains, he said, by which 
 his merchandise, consisting of bars of silver and 
 pieces of broad-cloth, was tied together on his 
 second horse, seemed already to gall the back of 
 the animal. He wished the rivets to be filed ofl'at 
 the heads, and driven through the plate, where 
 they were fastened, in order that he might ad- 
 just the burthen in a manner by which his 
 valuable horse might not be injured. The 
 smith, much envying the apparent magni- 
 tude of the rich merchandise, and expecting,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 67 
 
 of course, to be munificently rewarded, pro- 
 fessed his readiness to serve his kind em- 
 ployer, and ascending the horse by the tail, was 
 preparing, with his implements, to execute the 
 task assigned him, when Suleiman put both 
 horses to their speed, telling the blacksmith to 
 hold on by the mane as well as he could, for 
 that the animals, frightened by the fire of the 
 forge, were running away. Notwithstanding 
 the additional burthen under which one of the 
 steeds laboured, both flew over the open plains 
 with the speed of lightning, the blacksmith 
 thrown now on one side, now on another, as if 
 he were the sport of the winds. Terror and the 
 want of breath prevented him from crying out, 
 fearing that every moment he would be flung 
 over the merchandise and killed on the spot. 
 
 For a full hour Suleiman thus continued to 
 scour the country ; but at length perceiving a 
 wood suitable to his purpose, he turned into it, 
 allowing the panting animals to slacken their 
 pace gradually, until they penetrated beneath 
 the shade of some trees, which eflfectually ex- 
 cluded the light of morning. Here he com- 
 pelled the trembling artizan to remove the rivets, 
 when, the chain being loosened, the packages on
 
 68 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 each side fell suddenly on the grass, with a groan 
 which nearly frightened the blacksmith out of 
 his senses. Finding his way to the earth as 
 well as he could, the mechanic scampered off 
 without waiting to receive his expected reward, 
 convinced that he was a very fortunate man in 
 having escaped with so httle injury from the 
 evil spirits, which were always sure to be pre- 
 sent wherever gold or silver treasure required 
 their protection. Suleiman, loosening the chain, 
 set his friends at liberty ; then depositing it in 
 the bag which contained the robber's head, he 
 committed both to the bosom of a pond of stag- 
 nant water which he found hard by. 
 
 Seirami and Kazim leaped with joy at being 
 able once more to give full play to their limbs, 
 fettered as they had been in one position during 
 a period of more than thirty hours. Suleiman 
 invited Kazim to ride behind himself, while 
 Seirami mounted the other horse. They soon 
 emerged from the wood, and as they had no 
 longer any fear of pursuit, they rode onward at 
 an equable pace, relating to each other the ad- 
 ventures that had occurred to them since they 
 had last been separated. 
 
 Meanwhile Mirtas, who had fought Suleiman
 
 NOURMAHAL. 69 
 
 hand to hand in the battle, could not have been 
 deceived for a moment by the. substitute whom 
 he found in the garden hut. He charged his men, 
 who had solemnly promised to deliver up his foe 
 aliv 3 into his power, with a deliberate design to 
 deceive him, and ordered them forthwith to be 
 decapitated. But the dervish frankly con- 
 fessed that he alone was the guilty person, that 
 they were innocent of any participation in his 
 crime, if such it was ; that in his estimation, 
 however, he had only performed an act of duty 
 in preserving the life of a chieftain, to whom he 
 had pledged his allegiance, and that he was 
 now prepared to suffer any penalty which Mir- 
 tas might think proper to inflict. 
 
 The Mogul, struck by the heroic conduct of 
 the dervish, promised to pardon him if he would 
 acknowledge the contrivance by which he ena- 
 bled Suleiman to escape. To this he frankly 
 answered, that they had only exchanged rai- 
 ment, upon which the soldiers, who had recently 
 seen the disguised chieftain limping through the 
 gardens, led the pursuit after him in all direc- 
 tions, anxious to vindicate themselves by extra- 
 ordinary zeal, in the good opinion of their mas- 
 ter. By their active inquiries they succeeded
 
 70 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 in tracing Suleiman to Karaman, where, how- 
 ever, they soon lost all further clue to his foot- 
 steps through the streets of the town. 
 
 The fire which broke out in the early part of 
 the morning, drew Mirtas to the caravanserai, 
 where, however, he did not arrive until the con- 
 flagration was over. The horses, which had 
 been confined in the stable, were the first to give 
 warning to the neighbourhood by their wild 
 cries, urged by a sense of suffocation. The sen- 
 tinels were with difficulty extricated from the 
 danger to which they were exposed; and when 
 the burning loft fell with a crash upon the inte- 
 rior of the stable, the remains of two half-burnt 
 robbers convinced Mirtas that he was defrauded 
 of the vengeance which he had meditated 
 against the two captives, one of whom he 
 suspected to be Suleiman's adviser in all mea- 
 sures, whether of peace or war, while he looked 
 upon the other, as a willing instrument in the 
 execution of the stratagem to which he and his 
 followers had very nearly fallen victims. But 
 the discovery of the third body found outside 
 the door, compensated Mirtas for every disap- 
 pointment. The tattered clothes in which it 
 was arrayed were distinctly recognised by the
 
 NOURMAHAL. 71 
 
 soldiers, as those which the dervish had ex- 
 changed with Suleiman; the dervish himself 
 bore testimony to the truth of their evidence, 
 lamenting with many genuine tears that he had 
 not perished himself, rather than behold his 
 chieftain slain in this ignominious manner. 
 One of the sentinels claimed to himself the merit 
 of having cut off the head of Suleiman ; in proof 
 of which he produced his naked sabre, which 
 w as found on the floor of the stable stained with 
 blood. Of the head, indeed, he could give no 
 account ; it must have been burnt to a cinder ; 
 but he reported a violent altercation in which 
 he was engaged with Suleiman, who came to 
 offer him large sums of money if he would as- 
 sist him in effecting the escape of the two pri- 
 soners who had been committed to his care, and 
 to that of his companions. The altercation, as 
 well as the temptation, were terminated in the 
 manner now evident to every body, for there the 
 alleged Suleiman lay without his head; upon 
 which the sentinel claimed and received a 
 suitable reward from Mirtas, and the body 
 itself was ordered to be torn limb from hmb by 
 the wild horses, already prepared for the pur- 
 pose in the public square. Thus the multitud
 
 72 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 assembled to see the execution, were not wholly 
 deprived of the spectacle which they were so 
 desirous to behold. The death of Suleiman was 
 publicly proclaimed ; such of his soldiers as 
 had been taken prisoners cheerfully transferred 
 their allegiance to the conqueror, who was ac- 
 knowledo;ed sovereign of Karaman. For a 
 whole week the town resounded with dance, 
 dulcimer, drum and song, and with the clamour 
 of the troops intoxicated by wine and humiz, 
 who boasted every where of the great victory 
 which they had achieved over the treacherous 
 foe of Mirtas.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 73 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The humble tent and murmuring breeze, 
 That whistles through its fluttering walls, 
 My unaspiring fancy please. 
 Better than towers and splendid halls. 
 
 Maisona. 
 
 •* The best thing we can now do for a while," 
 said Seirami, " until this storm shall blow over, 
 will be to go and live with Kazim in his cottage 
 on the Ilamish. Perhaps, before the winter 
 sets in, and the valleys and plains are filled 
 with snow, you may succeed in collecting some 
 of your scattered troops, and strike a decisive 
 blow against Karaman." 
 
 " Be it as you say," replied Suleiman, " we 
 shall turn goat-herds for a while, and wait for 
 the return of those smiles of which fortune has 
 been so sparing of late." 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 " My hut, is in truth, a small one," observed 
 Kazim ; " but Mangeli will be delighted to 
 give you up her chamber." 
 
 " That she shall not do, my good friend," re- 
 joined Suleiman; '* if your hut be not large 
 enough to hold us all, we shall soon build an 
 addition to it. It is not the first time that 
 Seirami and I have turned architects, and if oc- 
 casion should require it, we are ready to do so 
 again. In the meanwhile, methinks that is the 
 tomb of a saint, which I see beyond those 
 pastures in the distance. We shall not fail 
 to find a well somewhere near it, which will 
 be refreshing both to ourselves and to our 
 horses." 
 
 Cantering over the green turf, the travellers 
 reached a hillock, planted with stitely palm- 
 trees, the silver larch, the mulberry, and some 
 willows. In the middle of the shady circle, 
 formed of the trees, was a marble tomb of a 
 saint, surmounted by a small temple, with a 
 portico, that ran all round the edifice. Seats 
 for pilgrims were placed in the portico, and dis- 
 posed among the willows ; the former afifbrding 
 shelter from the rain or storm ; the latter a cool 
 retreat from the beams of the noontide sun, to
 
 NOUHMAHAL. 75 
 
 those who wished to enjoy the fragrant zephyrs, 
 which sported through the surrounding grove. 
 The grateful breath of the heathy blossoms 
 and wild flowers, growing in the neighbouring 
 hills and vallies, imparted to the breezes that 
 swept over them a delicious odour, while the 
 pure stream that flowed from the fbuntain, at 
 the foot of the tomb, charmed the senses with a 
 soft murmur — the music of solitude, awakening 
 in the memory images of departed friends, and 
 filling the soul with a tender melancholy much 
 more congenial to its nature, than any happi- 
 ness it can enjoy amongst crowds. 
 
 The horses rushed gladly to the stream, that 
 sparkled like silver in the light, and drank, 
 until they were sated, of its refreshing waters. 
 Suleiman and his companions plunged into a 
 small lake, where the pilgrims were accustomed 
 to bathe, and in a few moments lost all sense 
 of the fatigue which they had recently endured. 
 New strength and health appeared to brace 
 their manly limbs, as they rose from the tran- 
 sparent wave. Then, permitting their animals 
 to browse at will, they ate a few dates, and 
 mulberries, which they gathered in the sacred 
 grove, and throwing themselves on the grass, 
 E 2
 
 76 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 they slept until the shadows of the trees 
 lengthened far over the valley. 
 
 And here, perhaps, they might have con- 
 tinued to slumber until morning, had not the 
 tinkhng of many sheep and camel bells, the 
 neighing of horses, the voices of shepherds, the 
 loud laughter of children, mingled with the in- 
 cessant barking of dogs, disturbed them from 
 their repose. Suleiman, who, though a sound 
 sleeper, was capable of being startled by the 
 slightest noise, rose instantly on his feet, and 
 hastening to the brow of the hillock, beheld, at 
 a distance, an immense moving mass, evidently 
 directing its course towards the tomb of the 
 saint. Calling his companions to witness this 
 spectacle, which Kazim, though he had often 
 heard of it, had never seen before, they observed 
 the crowd with intense interest, as the proces- 
 sion gradually developed the various objects of 
 which it was composed. 
 
 In front, were seen groups of men, dressed in 
 gay attire, armed with bows and spears, at- 
 tended by minor groups of boys and girls, all 
 mounted on spirited horses ; the young folk oc- 
 casionally riding races with each other over the 
 plains, and shouting in bursts of merriment
 
 NOURMAHAL. 77 
 
 that rent the air. Here two juvenile troopers 
 were seen fencing with each other, as they rode 
 at full gallop ; here a fox or a hare was started, 
 and chased by dogs and horsemen; while others 
 were capering about, as if to show off the 
 mettle of their favourite steeds, which some- 
 times stood upon the hinder legs as straight as 
 an arrow, the rider, nevertheless, holding his 
 place as if he were a part of the steed itself. 
 
 Behind these groups, which formed only the 
 van-guards of the horde, came their matrons, 
 decked out in holiday finery, seated on beauti- 
 ful coursers, worthy of the best blood of Arabia. 
 A few of these women bore in one arm infants 
 still at the breast, while in the other they held 
 the bridles of the foremost camels in each train, 
 which moved in single columns, laden with 
 tents, household goods, merchandize, and pack- 
 ages of every description, covered with rich 
 Turkey or Persia carpets, that reached the 
 ground. The camels were ornamented with 
 red ribbons, and added not a little to the gaiety 
 of the scene. Then followed large flocks of 
 sheep, and herds of mares, tended by shepherds 
 who were armed with long staffs and crooks, 
 clothed in the Calmuc costume. The march
 
 78 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 seemed to be made the most of by every body, 
 with a view to display the riches of each family, 
 as well in the usual articles of dress and orna- 
 ment, as in the agility and vigour of the young 
 men, and the beauty of the maidens. 
 
 Suleiman, mounting his horse, rode forward 
 to meet the procession, and to congratulate the 
 foremost of the horde upon their arrival at the 
 tomb of the saint. When he came back, with 
 a few of the chieftains to the well, it would 
 have seemed as if he had been one of their tribe 
 himself, so perfectly cordial were their greetings 
 with each other. With Seirami and Kazim 
 they were all speedily upon equally friendly 
 terms. The multitude, after having refreshed 
 themselves and their different animals, in the 
 running stream, set about erecting their tents. 
 A frame-work of willow laths, formed in sepa- 
 rate parts, and rising to nearly the height of a 
 man, was, in the first instance fixed upright in 
 the ground, the compartments being tied to- 
 gether by woollen bands, and disposed round 
 the circumference of a circle, leaving an aper- 
 ture for a wooden door-frame, which stood by 
 itself, containing two small folding doors. From 
 this foundation sprung a number of poles.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 79 
 
 raised in a slanting direction, towards a com- 
 mon centre, where they were prevented from 
 meeting by a wooden hoop, in which they were 
 all inserted. The poles were also bound firmly 
 together by woollen girths, and the whole 
 skeleton of a hut, thus composed, was closely 
 covered over with large pieces of felt. Over 
 the circular aperture, formed by the central 
 hoop at the top, was suspended a sheet of the 
 same material, one end of which was always 
 raised on the side least exposed to the wind, as 
 well for the purpose of affording an outlet to 
 the smoke, as for admitting sufficient light into 
 the domicile below. The door-way being pro- 
 tected from the external cold by another piece 
 of felt, which was hung over it, and lifted by 
 those who passed in or out, and the whole of 
 the covering of the hut being made fast by 
 woollen thongs, the residence was in a very 
 short time complete in every respect. The air 
 was soon after filled with columns of smoke, 
 ascending from the fires, on which pans well 
 stored with mutton were placed. In some of 
 the tents, cakes simply made, without any 
 leaven, were laid on stones heated by embers, 
 and baked with great rapidity; while, in others,
 
 80 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 tea and coffee were seen in an active course of 
 preparation. 
 
 Suleiman and his companions were invited by 
 the chieftains to live with them as long as they 
 pleased — a hospitable proposal^ which he ac- 
 cepted as frankly as it was made. He found 
 the interior of the principal huts roomy, and 
 well furnished, especially that of the prince 
 of the horde, an intelligent looking, elderly 
 person, dressed in a short Calmuc coat of blue 
 cloth, white trowsers, a mottled silk waistcoat, 
 and a thick velvet cap trimmed with sable, de- 
 corated by a red tassel and a gold loop. 
 Seated on the same cushion with the prince was 
 his consort, a young and agreeable woman, 
 whose blue frock dress, over a silk petticoat, 
 ornamented with gold flowers, high square 
 Calmuc cap of Persian gold muslin, (trimmed 
 also with sable and tassels), gold ear-rings 
 with pendants of large pearls, and red morrocco 
 boots, betrayed her desire to appear before the 
 strangers in a garb not altogether unworthy of 
 her station. On a chest, near her, was an 
 open trinket-box, a beautiful rosary, made of 
 smooth black kernels, with coral and round 
 onyx-stones interposed between them at re-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 81 
 
 gular intervals, and also a guitar elegantly in- 
 laid with a variety of precious stones. 
 
 The tent was abundantly furnished with rich 
 carpets, for the accommodation of visitors. 
 Images of gods were suspended here and there, 
 together with those celebrated astrological cir- 
 cles, which, afford a protection against evil. 
 Chests, covered with Persian cloth, containing 
 the riches of the family, were piled in one part 
 of the tent one above another; in the centre 
 was the hearth, where a clear fire of ambrosial 
 wood was burning ; and near the door stood a 
 few cans, ornamented with polished brass 
 hoops, filled with mares' milk. 
 
 The guests no sooner entered the tent, than 
 they were followed by numerous attendants, 
 bearing on silver dishes roast game, mutton 
 stevved in every form, with and without rice, 
 and cakes hot from the fire. After this 
 plentiful and well- cooked meal, an exquisite 
 wine was brought, in small bags, which was 
 poured out into gold cups by the attendants, 
 and placed before the prince and his guests. 
 The princess only drank mares' milk. 
 
 After the banquet was over, the tent was 
 crowded with a number of young men and girls, 
 E 5
 
 82 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 the handsomest the horde could furnish, who, 
 dressed out in their graceful costume, danced 
 before the prince, the princess, and their guests, 
 to the sound of the pipe, guitar, dulcimer, and 
 tambourine. Sometimes the dance was rapid 
 and lively, indicating great joy: sometimes it 
 assumed the solemnity of a religious ceremony, 
 when hymns were sung by the whole party in 
 chorus. They then performed a dramatic en- 
 tertainment — a favourite amusement of the prin- 
 cess — in which the chieftains of other hordes 
 were satirised and ridiculed, in a vein of drol- 
 lery that shook the tent with laughter, echoed 
 by the crowds, who, not being able to gain ad- 
 mission, were gathered outside, listening to the 
 actors within. 
 
 The guests upon taking leave, when these 
 sports were over, were prevailed upon to enter 
 several of the other huts in succession. In 
 some, parties were engaged playing at chess ; in 
 some, at dice or cards ; while story-tellers were 
 occupied in others, amusing the family, and 
 their more intimate friends, with tales of genii, 
 and spirits of the land and deep, warlike ad- 
 ventures, and all sorts of narratives of the wild 
 and wondrous world of enchantment.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 83 
 
 Seirami, from all he had hitherto observed of 
 the hordes, by whom he and his companions 
 were so hospitably received, imagined that 
 their habits were entirely pastoral, and that, 
 with the exception of a few men, armed for their 
 protection, while moving about from place to 
 place, there were scarcely any warriors amongst 
 them. 
 
 But in one of the tents which he last visited, 
 he found a group of finely formed, active, and 
 robust youths, girt with sabres, their bows and 
 quivers suspended round the walls of the hut, 
 listening to some martial songs, which appeared 
 to agitate them to a violent degree. In those 
 songs, the vicissitudes of a battle were boldly 
 depicted ; and as the hero in whose fate they 
 felt an interest was borne onward, or repelled, 
 on the tide of war, they half drew their sabres 
 fi-om their sides, burning with a desire to share 
 in the fortunes of the field. 
 
 With these young warriors Seirami remained 
 for some time, and being called upon in his 
 turn to contribute to the general amusement, 
 he gave them an animated description of the 
 contest with Mirtas, in which Suleiman had 
 been recently defeated — suppressing, of course.
 
 84 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 every incident that might warrant the charge 
 of treachery, made by that prince against his 
 chieftain. When to this narrative, v^^hich, told 
 in the fluent and graceful style of one of the 
 most accomplished masters of language in his 
 day, easily captivated the passions of those to 
 whom it was addressed, he added the history 
 of Suleiman's escape from the garden, and 
 of the heroic constancy and courage he had 
 shown in rescuing his friends from the cruel 
 and ignominious death to which they had been 
 doomed, the warriors rose by unanimous im- 
 pulse, and touching their sabres together, swore 
 that they would follow Suleiman, if he would 
 lead them to attack the town of Karaman, and 
 destroy the monster, whose deeds promised that 
 he would rule it with a mace of iron. 
 
 Suleiman, upon being made acquainted with 
 the offers of these men, accepted them for his 
 allies, with the consent of their prince ; but said 
 that, as their numbers were not sufficient for 
 an assault upon such a town as Karaman, he 
 must wait until he could collect a larger force 
 for the purpose. In the mean time they would 
 be eminently useful to him as emissaries, to 
 collect those of his scattered army, who had
 
 NOURMAHAL. 85 
 
 not been captured, and he had no doubt that 
 with such brave auxiUaries he would soon be 
 enabled to avenge the insult he had sustained 
 from Mirtas. 
 
 The song, the dance, the laugh, the voice of 
 the story-tellers, the sound of drum and man- 
 dolin gradually ceased throughout the tents as 
 the night advanced. The signs of animation 
 died away one after another ; and when Kazim 
 looked out from the door of the hut, occupied 
 by himself and his companions, to gaze once 
 more on the well-known star, which he and 
 Mangeli had often remarked shining over their 
 own dear cottage, he wondered at the profound 
 repose into which the whole tribe was hushed, 
 together with their camels, horses, sheep, and 
 other animals. 
 
 With the exception of the occasional bark of 
 a dog, heard at the confines of the encampment, 
 all was as still as the blue heavens above ; the 
 sweet murmur of the sacred fountain seeming 
 only to soothe into a deeper silence, the solemn 
 tranquillity that reigned every where around.
 
 86 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Alternate hope and fear my days divide : 
 I courted grief, and anguish was my bride. 
 Flow on, sad stream of life ! I smile secure : 
 Thou livest ; thou^ the purest of the pure. 
 
 The Masnavi. 
 
 While Kazim was engaged, shortly after sun- 
 rise, the following morning, writing, from the 
 dictation of Seirami, letters addressed to the 
 chieftains of Arjun, and the other hill-districts 
 in its neighbourhood, soliciting their aid on be- 
 half of Suleiman, in the war against Mirtas, two 
 persons were seen at a distance on the plain, 
 following the tracks which the horde had left 
 the day before. The wanderers were driving 
 before them a small herd of goats, and as they 
 approached nearer to the tents, they appeared
 
 NOURMAHAL. 87 
 
 quite overcome with fatigue. Three or four 
 horsemen galloped out towards them from the 
 encampment, offering them every assistance 
 which the huts afforded. But the strangers, 
 an old man and his daughter, seemed unwilHng 
 to make any delay on their road, exhausted as 
 they were. They stated that they were pro- 
 ceeding to Karaman, whither one of their near 
 relatives, as they had learned from some strag- 
 gling followers of Suleiman, had been sent as 
 a captive ; and that they would gladly ex- 
 change their little herd for a horse, which 
 might enable them to perform their journey 
 with greater certainty and expedition. 
 
 They were then informed, that Suleiman him- 
 self was in the camp, and as he possibly might 
 have it in his power to give them further in- 
 formation, they were recommended to pay him 
 a visit in the first instance. To this suggestion 
 they acceded, with considerable reluctance, as 
 they feared that every moment might be of con- 
 sequence which contributed to detain them on 
 their journey. They added, that they had 
 been travelling the whole of the previous night, 
 guided only by the stars, until they found the 
 traces of what they supposed to be a large
 
 88 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 army, and they thanked Providence for their 
 good fortune, not doubting but that, at all 
 events, they might learn some intelligence of 
 the troops who had been engaged in the late 
 disastrous battle. 
 
 The old man, tottering with weariness and 
 grief, was conducted into one of the poorer huts 
 at the outskirts, where he was placed on a mat 
 near the fire, trembling with the night-cold, 
 which seemed to have chilled his heart. As 
 his daughter bent over him, rubbing his tem- 
 ples, entreating him to take a little broth, which 
 was readily made for the invalid, she bitterly 
 reproached herself for allowing him to leave his 
 home at such a period of life. But he motioned 
 to her to dry the big tears that rolled down her 
 cheek, and to seek Suleiman without delay, in 
 order that they might pursue their journey. 
 The affectionate girl, recommending her father 
 to the care of the kind people by whom he was 
 surrounded, went forth, accompanied by the 
 matron of the hut, having first thrown a veil 
 over her head, from a feeling bordering on fear, 
 as she had never before appeared in the presence 
 of a chieftain. 
 
 The matron, raising the cover of the doorway,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 89 
 
 tapped gently before she entered the hut of 
 Suleiman, when, receiving no prohibition against 
 her further progress, she pushed open the fold- 
 ing doors, and, with her companion, stood be- 
 fore him. He was sitting near the fire, describ- 
 ing, with the point of an arrow, various hnes in 
 the ashes, in which he was shadowing out the 
 plan of a battle in an open plain. So deeply 
 was he absorbed in the subject of his medita- 
 tion, that he took no notice whatever of the 
 strangers. Behind him were seated, on the 
 floor, Seirami reading over the letters which 
 Kazim had written, while the latter was engaged 
 in folding and directing them as they were 
 handed back to him. " I have never seen be- 
 fore such hand-writing as yours,'' said Seirami, 
 *' it ought to be of itself sufficient to persuade 
 those mountain chiefs that we are no ordi- 
 nary supplicants for assistance." Both were 
 turned from the door, looking intently on the 
 papers, which they were obUged to hold close 
 to their eyes, on account of the dim light that 
 fell into the hut from the narrow aperture in the 
 roof. 
 
 '* Your highness will, I hope, pardon me," 
 said the matron, *' for presenting to you this
 
 90 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 unhappy young female, who understands that 
 she can receive from you some intelligence of 
 her husband." 
 
 " If there should be only one thousand of 
 them," pursued the warrior, still drawing his 
 lines, " and they should be tempted from the 
 town into the plain, a few pit-falls here — there 
 an ambush — yes, with quarter the number we 
 shall beat them." 
 
 " Some of your men, she has heard, were 
 taken prisoners and sent to Karaman." 
 
 *' Defeat abroad — at home, conspiracy after 
 conspiracy — I have had to fight for my throne 
 since the very moment I mounted it. Though 
 a mere youth then, I am already grown grey in 
 troubles. Fate! — fate! what art thou that thus 
 sportest with men, making them thy playthings 
 — casting them from the palace to the hut — 
 from the hut to the palace — as if they were no 
 better than the stubble of the field blown about 
 in the storm!" 
 
 The matron and her companion shuddered at 
 the fierce look of the chieftain, while, throwing 
 down the arrow he clasped his hands together, 
 and seemed writhing with indignation. 
 
 ** No — I shall never quit these mountains
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 91 
 
 until I make those Mogul satraps tremble at 
 my name. After breaking asunder the base 
 confederation, in which envy of my glory, 
 more than the sense of their own interests, has 
 bound them against a prince who feels their 
 own best blood in his veins, — I can return with 
 renovated fame, the victor of a hundred battles. 
 
 But should I fail Seirami!" 
 
 " I am here." 
 
 " Are those letters yet despatched ?" 
 " They are nearly ready for the couriers." 
 " What! not yet gone?" 
 " The couriers are not yet come." 
 "Go forth and find them. This is not a time 
 for delay, when the loss of an empire may be 
 the consequence." 
 
 " Empires may be lost by precipitance — sel- 
 dom by deliberation. It required time to frame 
 letters calculated to awaken in the hearts of 
 these chieftains an interest in your behalf. The 
 season of disaster is not the time to issue com- 
 mands. It was necessary to show that their 
 own fortunes were at hazard.'* 
 
 " True — you have done wisely; — would that 
 I had always conformed to your admonitions, —
 
 92 
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 had I done so, we should now have been cross- 
 ing the Himalas on our way home." 
 
 " We may be soon, if these missives be suc- 
 cessful. There are only two now to be finished, 
 — I shall go to summon the couriers. Is it not 
 time also that you should see the piince ?" 
 
 '* Aye ! — I had forgotten his imperial ma- 
 jesty," said Suleiman, sneeringly, as he led the 
 way from the hut, followed by his able and 
 faithful minister, neither of them taking any par- 
 ticular notice of their female visitors, who, they 
 supposed, had come in through mere curiosity. 
 
 The matron, seeing one person still employed 
 in a remote part of the hut, went to him, and 
 touching his shoulder, requested that he would 
 inform her whether he knew any thing of the 
 followers of Suleiman, who were now captives at 
 Karaman. 
 
 " Not much," answered Kazim, raising his 
 head and turning towards the matron ; *' I saw 
 very little of them, and not one of them do I 
 know." 
 
 While he was yet speaking, the matron was 
 surprised to see her timid trembling companion 
 advance suddenly across the floor, and fall on
 
 NOURMAHAL. 93 
 
 the neck of Kazim, whom she almost suflfocated 
 with kisses. 
 
 " Mangeli!" he exclaimed, " my own Man- 
 gel! !" folding her to his breast, 
 
 '' Kazim I" she rejoined, breathless with as- 
 tonishment and joy, that she should thus have 
 found her husband. " But, my poor father," 
 she added, bursting into tears. 
 " Is he here also ?" 
 
 " Alas I he lies upon the bed of death, in this 
 good matron's hut. Oh ! let us go to him. The 
 sight of you will restore him to life." 
 
 "So — so — Kazim! flirting with your new 
 friends already," exclaimed Seirami, as he 
 re-entered ; " what would your beautiful Man- 
 geli say to all this?" 
 
 " You may put that question to herself," an- 
 swered Kazim, " for here she is !" proudly pre- 
 senting her to him all radiant with blushes. 
 
 " I must say that you have not at all exag- 
 gerated her charms. I hope we shall know 
 each other much better by and by, Mangeli," 
 said Seirami, as he collected the epistles which 
 were now all prepared. '* You may consider 
 yourself free for the day," he added, kindly 
 looking back at Kazim as he went out with the
 
 94 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 letters in his hand, " unless you be disposed to 
 assist at the banquet, which the prince has 
 ordered in honour of Suleiman." 
 
 Gulbeg had already asked several times for 
 his daughter, wondering why she had left him 
 to die on the hearth of a stranger. The people 
 of the hut attended to him with as much anxiety 
 as if he had been a member of their tribe. 
 Skilful in the use of herbs, they administered to 
 him a potion which appeared to revive him for 
 a while. But again his pulse beat slowly, his 
 breath was scarcely heard, and the spark of life 
 seemed to be nearly extinct, when Kazim 
 entered. 
 
 His voice brought a slight flush into the 
 emaciated cheek of Gulbeg, who looked wildly 
 around him. 
 
 " You know me, father, do you not?" asked 
 Kazim, deeply affected by the helpless situation 
 in which he beheld the venerable old man. 
 Guibecr made no answer; but stretchins^ out 
 his hand, he passed it over Kazim's face several 
 times, and seemed occasionally to feel a dim 
 return of consciousness. He still breathed, 
 however, with difficulty, and at length sunk 
 into a stupor, in which he remained for some
 
 NOURMAHAL. 95 
 
 hours. The hospitable owners of the hut had 
 the good feehng to leave it entirely in possession 
 of the distressed family. 
 
 " I foresaw it all/' observed Mangeli, fre- 
 quently, in the course of the day — " I foresaw 
 that some dreadful misfortune was impending- 
 over us ; for the morning after you left home, I 
 found our beautiful falcon lifeless on the floor !" 
 
 This incident, slight as it was, struck Kazim 
 to the heart. He affected, indeed, to ascribe 
 the death of the bird to some injury which it 
 must have received in its late conflict with the 
 quail j but while he thus endeavoured to sup- 
 port the spirits of Mangeli, the state of his own 
 was too perceptible to her, from the frequency 
 with which he referred to the habits of their 
 favourite, its brilliant eyes and elegant plumage. 
 
 Towards evening the old man, once more 
 recognizing the unhappy pair, who never left 
 his side, gave thanks to Allah that he beheld 
 his son again. Sitting up between them, he 
 took their hands and spoke, with regret, of their 
 cottage on the Ilamish. " I built it," he said, 
 " entirely myself — you were bom in it, Mangeli — 
 your sainted mother loved her home, though far 
 away from the world, and I had the hope that
 
 96 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 it would still be to you both, and to your chil- 
 dren, an undisturbed retreat from the folly and 
 misery of the crowds who collect in tribes and 
 cities. But I foresee that you will return to it 
 no more : nor, indeed, perhaps, would it be safe 
 at present, while war is going on so near. These 
 friendly people will afford you both protection, 
 until the danger is over, and then, oh! my 
 children," he added, in accents becoming each 
 moment more and more feeble — " clouds — de- 
 sert — famine — alas ! I see before you a long 
 train of adversity, ending, perhaps, in great 
 dignities; but as to happiness — ah! that you 
 have left on the flowery banks of the Ilamish !" 
 Kazim and Mangeli wept aloud, and the aged 
 man's heart bled within him, while these words 
 were forced from his lips by some irresistible 
 impulse. They looked at each other, as if to 
 renew, under the seal of misfortune, the bonds 
 by which they were united, resolved that no 
 event short of death itself should ever separate 
 them again. They moved not from the side of 
 the invalid, from whom they expected some 
 further communications. But his spirit had 
 already taken its departure, before Kazim or 
 Mangeli was sensible that the hands in which
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 97 
 
 theirs were held had become icy cold. Kazini 
 at length rose to administer to him the medi- 
 cated drink, which was kept warm for him near 
 the fire ; when he discovered the change that 
 had taken place. The grief of Mangeli rendered 
 her frantic ; she could not believe that her parent 
 had ceased to live. She called upon him by 
 every tender name that affection could inspire, 
 to look at her — to answer her — if it were even 
 only once, to convince Kazim of his error. She 
 summoned all the beautiful smiles with which 
 her lovely countenance was endowed, in order 
 to win some token of recognition from her 
 father. Then she chided him for his indifference 
 — spoke of his little herd — reminded him that it 
 was the time for milking them — wondered he 
 did not remember it himself — desired Kazim to 
 speak to him — parted the silver locks on his 
 forehead — and contended that he was only 
 asleep! — Poor Mangeli! — the season of her 
 joys was already passed — that of her sorrows 
 had begun. 
 
 The intelligence of the death of the strangrer 
 was speedily circulated throughout the encamp- 
 ment, and produced universal sympathy on be- 
 half of his now orphan children. The prince of 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 KOURMAHAL, 
 
 the tribe sent them a most friendly message, 
 stating that he should adopt them for his own, 
 and that he had directed the funeral of Gulbeg 
 to be conducted with all due honour, according 
 to the customs of his people. Suleiman and 
 Seirami also hastened to assure Kazim of their 
 participation in his grief, and to render him 
 every assistance which the occasion required. 
 
 Upon both these individuals the cultivated 
 mind, the clear intelligence, the modest dis- 
 course, and agreeable manners of Kazim, had 
 already produced a highly favourable impression. 
 Though unskilled in the use of arms, yet he 
 displayed no want of personal firmness on the 
 field of battle. Before he was captured, he de- 
 fended himself with much bravery, wresting 
 from the hand of the enemy a sabre, which he 
 wielded with effect, until he was overpowered 
 by numbers. In prison he had given himself 
 up to no unmanly apprehensions; and when 
 asked his opuiion on any point of policy, he 
 expressed himself in terms which indicated deep 
 reflection and a sound judgment. Seirami 
 hinted to him, more than once, that the proper 
 sphere for talents such as his, could only be 
 found in Hindostan — then the most brilliant
 
 NOURMAHAL. 99 
 
 empire in the world, though much disturbed by 
 civil wars, that were raging in almost every 
 one of its provinces. It would be surprising if 
 such flattering encouragement had not rekin- 
 dled in Kazim 's breast the sparks of ambition, 
 which he had endeavoured to extinguish when 
 first he felt them on the banks of the Ilamish. 
 But the dying words of Gulbeg, his death, and 
 the grief of Mangeli, now threw a deep gloom 
 over his prospects ; though at times he found 
 himself again unconsciously painting them in 
 all the colours of the rainbow. 
 
 F 2
 
 100 KOUEMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Where is the land of smiles and light, 
 
 "Where darkness ne'er one shadow throws, 
 
 Where, from each beam of skies so bright. 
 The spirit of its Maker flows 1 
 
 This land is not of earth ! 
 
 Where is the clime where joy with woe 
 
 Disdains to hold alternate sway ; 
 Where tears of sorrow never flow, 
 
 Nor fairest flowers of hope decay 1 
 This clime is far from earth 1 
 
 Where the whole heavens with radiance glow, 
 Nor e'er their smiles in dewdrops steep, 
 
 That tears may never seem to flow, 
 And figure what it is to weep 1 
 
 Oh ! 'tis not found on earth I 
 
 Where every soul will inly find 
 
 A bliss that's felt but there alone, 
 Where every tie is closely twined 
 
 Around the Great Eternal One t 
 
 Oh ! this is surely heaven ! 
 
 MOSULNA. 
 
 The remains of Gulbeg, which had been care- 
 fully covered with herbs during eight days, in 
 order to preserve them from decomposition until
 
 NOURMAHAL. 101 
 
 the usual period of mourning had elapsed, were 
 placed, at the dawn of the ninth day, on a bier 
 of green boughs, covered with a new mantle, 
 which no person had ever worn before. A re- 
 tired green spot, among the adjacent hills, 
 having been previously fixed upon by Kazim 
 for the performance of the funeral obsequies, 
 the procession moved forward, chanting a 
 solemn lament, without the accompaniment of 
 any musical instruments. Kazim and Mangeli 
 walked, hand in hand, immediately behind the 
 bier, their heads covered by their mantles. 
 The prince, with Suleiman and Seirami, were 
 next in order ; and then followed the chieftains 
 and elders of the tribe, a person bearing a 
 lighted torch, and a long line of matrons, young 
 men and maidens. Two voices, usually selected 
 on such occasions for their peculiar sweetness, 
 sung, alternately, portions of a canticle, which 
 was responded to by the multitude in notes, 
 that were echoed by the hills, as the train 
 wound along their declivities. 
 
 The bearers having reached a considerable 
 eminence, laid down the bier upon it, when 
 Kazim and Mangeli taking up a little earth, 
 sprinkled it over the body, which they were 
 now permitted to behold for the last time.
 
 102 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 Several chanters, in the meanwhile, seated 
 themselves near it, and addressed it in a wild 
 and impassioned manner. One of them enume- 
 rated the years and the virtues of the de- 
 parted, describing the pastoral and innocent 
 life which he had led, and pointing him out as 
 an example to the young men of the tribe. A 
 second, taking Mangeli by the hand, wiped 
 away the tears which coursed each other down 
 her grief- worn cheek, and endeavoured to soothe 
 her anguish, by depicting the happy region to 
 which the spirit of her father had fled ; while a 
 third renewed the song of woe, which w^as 
 answered as before, by the crowd now gathered 
 in a circle round the bier. When this cere- 
 mony was concluded, Kazim cut from the old 
 man's temples the locks of silvery hair by 
 which they were covered, and gave them to 
 Mangeli, who, after bathing them in her tears, 
 deposited them in her bosom. 
 
 The bier having been once more raised, the 
 procession again moved forward until they ar- 
 rived at the recess, where a funeral pile had 
 been already prepared. The body, still wrapped 
 in the mantle, was placed upon the pile, the 
 feet to the east, and the face turned downwards. 
 Other logs of wood having been then added to
 
 NOURMAHAL. 103 
 
 the pile, It was ignited by Kazira. The wood 
 rapidly blazed up in the midst of a howl, which 
 burst suddenly from the multitude who col- 
 lected around it, and which was kept up with 
 unceasing energy, until the whole heap became 
 a mass of embers. From the ashes were then 
 collected the few relics of the deceased, which 
 could be distinguished from the remains of the 
 wood; and being wrapped in a new Persian 
 shawl, they were given to Kazim. The spot 
 where the pile had been raised was then dug 
 up, and the ashes having been buried beneath 
 the earth, the surface was covered over with 
 green turfs, bearing clusters of wild flowers, 
 which still outlived the rigour of the season. 
 A cypress-tree was finally planted at the head 
 of the grave, to inform the wanderer, who might 
 pass that way, that he was treading on sacred 
 ground. 
 
 As soon as the funeral ceremonies were over, 
 Kazim and Mangeli returned to their hut, where 
 they remained secluded during the remainder 
 of the day. They were followed by the females 
 and elders of the tribe, who went down the hill 
 in groups; while the young men, dispersing 
 themselves among the higher ranges of the 
 mountains, entertained themselves with a va-
 
 104 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 riety of pastimes. With these Suleiman re- 
 mained, as much from disposition to partake 
 in their games, as to render himself popular 
 among those whom he hoped he might soon 
 lead to battle. Some had brought their bows 
 and quivers, and ranged among the copses in 
 pursuit of game. Others, who had armed 
 themselves with clubs, engaged in a war- 
 dance to the sound of a pipe and tabor ; 
 and, as they changed places in the figures, 
 they kept time to the music with their clubs, 
 which they struck sometimes on the ground, 
 sometimes against those held up by their anta- 
 gonists. 
 
 Suleiman was much amused by the feats of a 
 tumbler, who, in another quarter, gathered a 
 circle to witness his evolutions. The performer 
 exhibited wonderful agility. He rolled himself 
 up, as it were, in a mass, exhibiting to the spec- 
 tator an apparently lifeless trunk, and permitted 
 himself to fall down the side of an eminence, 
 interspersed with knolls, which sent him bound- 
 ing like a ball, from one side to another, until 
 he reached the bottom of the hill, amidst gene- 
 ral shouts of laughter. But, in the next mo- 
 ment, he was seen as if nothing had happened.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 105 
 
 turning himself round like a wheel, or walking 
 on his hands, or leaping backward on his feet, 
 with all the agility of an antelope. In a differ- 
 ent quarter a group was engaged in wrestling, 
 while others were displaying their speed in the 
 foot-race, or in heaving a ponderous stone, or in 
 discharging arrows at a mark, from bows which 
 it required almost the strength of a giant to bend. 
 
 The attention of the stragglers was at noon 
 called to the hunters on the higher range of the 
 mountain, who shouted with all their might to 
 their companions below, to be on their guard. 
 Before the signal was perfectly understood, a 
 tiger rushed by them with an arrow fixed in his 
 side, towards a jungle which lay at some dis- 
 tance in the valley. The hunters pursued the 
 animal until they were out of breath, and then 
 seeing the direction which he took, they deter- 
 mined on surrounding him, with the assistance 
 of their friends, in order to destroy an enemy 
 so dangerous to the encampment. The inci- 
 dent seemed to give new life to the whole party, 
 and especially to Suleiman, who had been well 
 accustomed to this kind of chase. 
 
 Proceeding in small divisions to the heights 
 which commanded the jungle, they extended 
 F 5
 
 106 NOURMAIIAL. 
 
 their ranks as widely as possible, until they 
 established the outline of a circle. Then de- 
 scending at a given signal in a measured pace, 
 they closed up their ranks more and more, until 
 they were within bow-shot of the borders of the 
 jungle, when the javelin-men held their weapons 
 ready for the cast, and the bowmen fixing their 
 arrows on the notch, stood prepared to dis- 
 charge them the moment the tiger came within 
 sight. Those who had clubs, held them lifted 
 in the air for the same purpose, while the rest 
 armed themselves with stones or branches of 
 trees. They then set up a tremendous clamour 
 simultaneously, which they repeated several 
 times without effect. 
 
 Suleiman, who had obtained possession of a 
 heavy mace, penetrated the jungle, and after 
 exploring it as far as he could, reported that 
 there was no chance of compelling the beast to 
 abandon his lair, unless they set fire to the 
 tangled brushwood. A fire was produced in a 
 moment, by rubbing together with great force 
 and rapidity, two pieces of a club, which was 
 broken for the purpose, and in a few minutes 
 after the whole jungle was in a blaze. The 
 cloud that rose from the smoking trees, spread
 
 NOURMAHAL. 107 
 
 in the atmosphere, where it hung Hke a ca- 
 nopy, darkening all the valley, except that por- 
 tion of it occupied by the hunters, which was 
 illuminated by the conflagration. Not being 
 able, however, to see each other distinctly, on 
 account of the volumes of smoke that issued 
 from tlie burning wood, they were obliged to 
 keep up a communication, by calling to each 
 other every moment. Suleiman saw, with the 
 joy of the warrior, the courage exhibited by 
 these young men, as the flames, bursting forth 
 here and there, displayed their countenances 
 eager for the combat, and showed the figures 
 of the bowmen kneeling with their arrows 
 ready to fly, while javelins, and clubs, and pon- 
 derous stones, were prepared to assist in the 
 common cause. 
 
 A rustle in the jungle, then a rush of sparks 
 into the air, shewed, at length, the path taken 
 in his rage by the tiger. The perpetual shouts 
 deterred him from quitting the jungle, until 
 the fire approached the spot where he was 
 couched ; he was almost suffocated by the 
 smoke, when he sprung boldly through the 
 blaze, which scorched him to the bone. See- 
 ing by the light the fierce line of enemies
 
 108 NOURMAHAL, 
 
 drawn up against him, he attempted to return 
 to his former shelter ; but a shower of stones, 
 hurled into the fire, raised such a mass of flame, 
 that he again galloped back, and stood at the 
 edge of the vast furnace, apparently bewil- 
 dered. 
 
 Arrow after arrow, javelin after javelin, 
 glanced by the beast, while he ran up and 
 down to find some means of escape^ lashing his 
 back with his tail, his open mouth covered with 
 foam, his roar resounding high above the shouts 
 of the hunters. As if blinded by the smoke, he 
 advanced unconsciously towards the circle^ 
 whence he was driven again back to the jungle 
 by stones and clubs, which fell upon him from 
 all sides. Still undismayed, he dashed for- 
 ward once more, resolved to defy their hosti- 
 lity, when a barbed arrow, directed by Sulei- 
 man, entered his throat, and, by the pain it 
 gave, augmented his fury a hundred-fold. The 
 circle closed rapidly nearer and nearer to 
 the centre, the fire still raging, and sending 
 upwards huge volumes of smoke. The brave 
 animal, collecting all his remaining strength 
 for a final effort, couched on the earth, his eyes 
 lightening with an unnatural redness, that was
 
 NOURMAHAL. 109 
 
 quite terrific. He waited until Suleiman had 
 another arrow on the notch, when, springing 
 towards him with an enormous bound, he threw 
 the chieftain prostrate. A hundred clubs in- 
 stantly descended on the head and flanks 
 of the infuriated creature, from whose grasp 
 Suleiman was extricated with some difficulty. 
 A stream of blood, that bathed the earth all 
 round, at length proclaimed the contest at an 
 end. The tiger was immediately stripped of 
 his hide, which was presented to Suleiman, in 
 token of the pre-eminent share he had in the 
 victory ; and the carcase was left as the lawful 
 prey of some vultures, already seen hovering on 
 the heights above, and flapping their dark wings 
 with joy over the feast thus provided for their 
 hunoer. 
 
 The young men, who had assembled to- 
 gether on this occasion, appeared to be as much 
 transported with the frenzy of victory, as if 
 they had conquered a host of foes in the field 
 of battle. Inviting Suleiman to march at their 
 head, they formed into regular array, and 
 moved forward on their return to the encamp- 
 ment, singing a war-hymn, which they inter- 
 rupted frequently by loud cries of exultation
 
 110 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 or vengeance, as suggested by the alternations 
 in the song. 
 
 As they were ascending the sides of the hill, 
 which overlooked the jungle, their attention 
 was attracted by several horsemen, who ap- 
 peared to be crossing the ridges of the distant 
 hills in various quarters, but all proceeding to- 
 wards the same point. When they came near, 
 they were joyfully recognised as the emissaries 
 who had been dispatched by Suleiman to the 
 neighbouring chieftains, for assistance in the 
 war against Mirtas. They seemed to be the 
 bearers of no welcome tidings, for disappoint- 
 ment was strongly marked on their coun- 
 tenances as they successively delivered to 
 the chieftain the letters with which they were 
 respectively charged, in answer to his appli- 
 cations. 
 
 '' Pshaw !" exclaimed the indignant warrior, 
 glancing over the epistles, which he threw one 
 by one on the ground ; " they have all heard 
 of my defeat in that unfortunate battle. Here 
 is one who excuses himself, on the ground 
 that he had disbanded his troops, and that he 
 could not collect them again before the spring. 
 Another wants arms, and asks me to send him
 
 NOURMAHAL. Ill 
 
 some to defend his own territory from the for- 
 midable Mirtas. A third enters into an argu- 
 ment to show, that before I could hope to 
 attack the town of Karaman, I must have at 
 least five thousand men, and that he had only 
 fifty at his command. A fourth is engaged in 
 repressing the robbers in his neighbourhood, 
 who have lately carried away all the cattle be- 
 longing to his people. While a fifth is nearly 
 dead of ague, and unable to stir from home ! 
 Thus I have always found it — in prosperity 
 I never wanted friends in abundance — men 
 eagerly pressing upon me their services, when 
 I wanted them not ; but now, when they would 
 be truly valuable, I am left alone in the desert ! 
 Alone ! did I say ? No, no, my comrades ; 
 with you I would conquer or die. What say 
 you?" 
 
 " Lead us where and when you will," they 
 unanimously replied. 
 
 " To-night ?" 
 
 " To-night," they replied. 
 
 " To-night then be it — we shall be the mas- 
 ters of Karaman, before the sun shall shine 
 again upon its domes, or we shall be with 
 Gulbeg."
 
 112 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 Hastening, as fast as their manly limbs 
 could bear them, to the encampment, the young 
 men lost no time in proclaiming their deter- 
 mination to the prince, who, though he might 
 have had the desire, possessed no power to re- 
 press their impetuosity. Collecting their horses 
 from the pastures, they proceeded to trim the 
 animals with much care, and to examine their 
 fitness for action, by galloping them over the 
 plain v\ith their full accoutrements on. The 
 camp was full of excitement on the occasion ; 
 and though the elders and matrons did not 
 much approve of the abrupt manner in which 
 the expedition had been resolved upon, never- 
 theless, they could not help feeling proud of 
 their tribe, when they saw about three hundred 
 young men, of sinewy frames, and the most 
 gallant bearing, flying about in every direction, 
 full of ardour in the cause to which they were 
 pledged, their steeds prancing in the air, and 
 animated by the sound of the war-trumpet, 
 which had not for some time summoned them 
 from the flowery fields to the tumult of action. 
 
 Seirami, upon hearing of Suleiman's sudden 
 determination, felt that it would be in vain for 
 him to off'er any remonstrance against it. This
 
 NOURMAHAL. ] 13 
 
 was one of those occasions on which his master 
 would listen to no admonitions, and he did not 
 offer them. Lending himself with the best 
 grace he could, to proceedings adopted without 
 his advice, he prepared to join the expedition, 
 which, it was arranged, should leave the camp 
 at sun-set.
 
 1 14 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Now the battle's fought with the iron-spiked club, and 
 as they close, with the clenched fist, and the din of war 
 ascendeth to the heavens ! They cry, " Pursue ! strike ! 
 fell to the ground !" so that a horrid and tumultuous noise 
 is heard on all sides. Mahabharat. 
 
 As evening approached, the warriors, already- 
 accoutred for the journey, might be seen here 
 and there in the retired glens near the encamp- 
 ment, engaged in soothing the alarm of the 
 maidens, to whom many of them had been be- 
 trothed from infancy. But this scene of affec- 
 tion, and of renewed vows of constancy, the 
 shrill trumpet speedily disturbed, and as the 
 shades began to rise in the east, the troop was 
 assembled before the hut of the prince. He 
 gave them the banner of the tribe, whose glory 
 in war he bade them to remember ; they an-
 
 NOURMAUAL. 115 
 
 swered his command by a hurra! and then, 
 with Suleiman, who was accompanied by Sei- 
 rami, at their head, they set out for Karaman. 
 For a few moments the paces of the horses, as 
 they bounded over the green turf, and the clatter 
 of the arms of the riders were heard ; but the 
 sounds grew fainter and fainter in the distance, 
 and the moving mass soon ceased altogether to 
 be discernible through the misty night. 
 
 The grief of Kazim, which had been respected 
 by the epecial desire of Suleiman, and which 
 had kept him confined to his hut with Mangeli, 
 prevented both from becoming acquainted with 
 the event which had just taken place. Nor was 
 it until the next morning, when Kazim went to 
 return thanks to the prince for the honourable 
 attentions that had been paid to the remains of 
 his father, that he learned the intelligence. He 
 was in some degree hurt, that he had not re- 
 ceived from Seirami, at least, some intimation of 
 the plan which had been adopted, but as he 
 entertained no doubt that Mirtas would be taken 
 by surprise, and that the affair would be ter- 
 minated within a few days, he turned all his 
 thoughts again to Mangeli, who stood in need 
 of his best care.
 
 116 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 Day after day passed on, and still no tidings 
 came from Karaman. The matrons of the tribe 
 began to feel apprehensive of the results of the 
 expedition, but they still hesitated to give way 
 to any general sense of alarm, hoping that news 
 would momentarily arrive which might shew it 
 to be without foundation, A vague rumour on 
 the sixth day found its way through the en- 
 campment, that a most sanguinary engagement 
 had taken place in the streets of Karaman be- 
 tween the hostile forces, and that not only Su- 
 leiman, but every one of his followers had been 
 slaughtered, without the exception of even a 
 solitary trooper to bring away the melancholy 
 tale. The report spread from hut to hut with a 
 thousand aggravations, but none of those who 
 were questioned about it, not even of those who 
 related it with the most minute particulars, 
 could say how or whence it had originated, as no 
 stranger had been seen at the encampment since 
 the departure of the expedition. 
 
 Calamity sometimes casts its shadow before, 
 which, like a supernatural messenger, carries to 
 the mind unerring intelligence of events that 
 have either happened at a distance, or are al- 
 ready on the march towards their fatal accom-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 117 
 
 plish merit. The seventh sun had scarcely risen 
 on the horizon, after the funeral day of Gulbeg, 
 when a horse, fully accoutred as for the field of 
 battle, without a rider, and with broken rein, 
 entered the precincts of the camp, running here 
 and there, snorting and pawing the ground, as 
 if he had some dreadful tale to tell. He easily 
 permitted himself to be caught, when it was 
 discovered that the animal had been much 
 gashed on the shoulders by sabre-cuts, that the 
 saddle was stained with blood, with which his 
 mane was also clotted, and that, moreover, it 
 was the steed on which Suleiman had been 
 mounted. The ominous forebodings of the 
 elders thus received a degree of confirmation 
 that filled the whole tribe with terror. Some 
 were for sending messengers instantly, in order 
 to ascertain the results, however dreadful they 
 might be. 
 
 The proposition was no sooner made than 
 it was acted upon by three spirited youths, 
 who had not yet been permitted to try their 
 strength in battle. Kazim oflfered to be their 
 guide to Karaman, and horses being prepared 
 in a few moments, they were already mounting, 
 in the midst of the crowds that had assembled
 
 118 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 round them, when an old man, to whom the 
 wounded steed belonged, rushed into the circle 
 holding up a letter, which he found under the 
 pommel of the saddle, on removing it from the 
 heated back of the animal. It was immedi- 
 ately opened by Kazim, but from being worn 
 away in many places by the friction of the 
 saddle, he could read it aloud only in fragments. 
 It was in the hand-writing of Seirami : — 
 
 '* If this brave steed find his way back to the 
 encampment, he will indeed be the messenger 
 of woe. # # * * * 
 
 * # # * # * 
 
 never were such days of strife known before 
 
 * * * they were a host, for the three 
 chieftains had joined their forces, and believing 
 that Suleiman was no more, they were marching 
 to seize his dominions, when we met them near 
 the gates of Karaman # # # # 
 in the streets, which ran with torrents of blood 
 
 * * # we * * The re-appear- 
 ance of Suleiman threw the enemy at the onset 
 into affright * * * evil spirits 
 they said, flying back to the town, were come
 
 NOURMAHAL. 119 
 
 to attack them, # ^ * * every 
 where the houses were closed : as we hastened 
 after the fugitives it looked like a city of the 
 dead # # # Mirtas slain at his 
 
 feet * # # # recovering from 
 
 their terror the second day, burst forth "^ ^ 
 
 * =* *^ from street to street the 
 battle raged for three days # # # 
 ^ * those valiant youths of the tribe, 
 their deeds are beyond all praise * ^ 
 
 * * * not one remains to" — 
 
 Kazim's faltering voice was here interrupted 
 by a general burst of anguish, which not even 
 the breathless desire of the hstening crowd to 
 hear every particular, could repress. ^' Oh, my 
 son ! my son !" were the only words to which 
 the matrons could give utterance, as, tearing 
 their hair, they threw themselves prostrate on 
 the earth, overwhelmed with grief. Kazim, 
 looking still at the fragments of the letter, could 
 not resume, though he perceived that it was of 
 the utmost importance that they should hear 
 the remainder of the communication. Again 
 and again he motioned to the multitude that he 
 would go on, but the agony that swelled his
 
 120 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 heart, when he beheld the mothers of the 
 slaughtered warriors demanding their surviving 
 children to be brought before them, that they 
 might count them, and ascertain whether hCy 
 the bravest of them all, had indeed gone to the 
 battle, never, never to return, — appalled his 
 senses, and stifled the language to which 
 he in vain endeavoured to give articulate 
 sound. 
 
 The voice of mourning having at length in 
 some degree subsided, Kazim was directed to 
 proceed. 
 
 "There can be no doubt that in the first in- 
 stance the enemy will direct their march to- 
 wards the encampment." 
 
 '* Let them come," answered the veterans ; 
 '^ we may yet revenge the butchery of our chil- 
 dren!" 
 
 '* And that from their numbers, all being 
 well armed, flushed with conquest, and in need 
 of provisions, they will contend with too many 
 advantages against a pastoral tribe. Fly, there- 
 fore^ while yet you can." 
 
 # # 
 
 The remainder of the letter was worn quite 
 away, except a very small fragment, on which
 
 NOURMAHAL. 121 
 
 the words " Kazim" and " Hindostan" were 
 legible. 
 
 The prince who mixed with the crowd without 
 any emblems of his rank, to hear the tidings of" 
 calamity, which for a moment reduced all the 
 members of the tribe to the same level, retiring 
 to his tent, called a council, by which it was re- 
 solved, that the encampment should be broken 
 up, and that they should proceed across the 
 desert. 
 
 Kazim, who feared at first that he might have 
 been sacrificed to the grief or indignation of the 
 tribe, inasmuch as he was the friend of Sulei- 
 man, to whose rashness they justly imputed the 
 calamity which had befallen so many of their 
 bravest warriors, asked permission from the 
 prince to return to his home on the Ilamish. 
 But that excellent person, who was an epitome 
 of all the virtues of the tribe, taking him by the 
 hand, assured him that he need have no appre- 
 hension for his safety. Nobody thought of 
 blaming the husband of Mangeli, who was a 
 favourite in every quarter ; and as to returning 
 to his defenceless cottage, at a period when the 
 exasperated troops of Mirtas would probably 
 leave no part of the country unexplored, and 
 
 vox.. 1. G
 
 122 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 would visit no cultivated spot without laying it 
 waste, such an idea would be the extreme of 
 imprudence. '* No/' said the good prince ; " we 
 have adopted you and yours for our own ; with 
 us you shall remain ; of our wealth you shall 
 freely partake ; and our home, wherever we 
 may find it from season to season, shall be 
 vour home too. Put up your hut, my son, like 
 the rest ; you will find a camel of burthen at 
 vour door, and a horse of my own for yourself 
 and Mangeli. Your goats form part already 
 of the common stock." 
 
 The huts having been all speedily taken down, 
 the materials of them were carefully packed 
 up, together with all the utensils and furni- 
 ture which they contained ; and in three hours 
 after the command was given, the tribe was 
 on the march towards the vast desert, which 
 spreads many days' journey to the west as well 
 as to the south of Arjun. The enemy, it was 
 thought, would hardly venture in pursuit of 
 them into the waste, if in want of provisions ; 
 and at all events, in those immense solitudes 
 upon whose arid surface the hoof of the horse 
 or the camel made no impression, it would be 
 difficult to trace the footsteps of the fugitives.
 
 KOURMAHAL. 123 
 
 Very different was now the appearance of the 
 cavalcade from what it was when the pastoral 
 nation first met the eyes of Kazim. They moved 
 on necessarily at a slow pace, as their herds of 
 sheep and other animals, which brought up the 
 rear, were of essential importance for the sup- 
 ply of food. But the brave warriors, lately the 
 pride of the people to whom they belonged, 
 were missed from a scene usually remarkable 
 for splendour and gaiety. The tones of mirth 
 were changed into lamentation, and the proces- 
 sion seemed like a funeral train, enoraged in 
 performing the last obsequies of some departed 
 chieftain. 
 
 After journeying over the desert for three 
 weeks, without perceiving any token of pursuit 
 on the part of the enemy, the fugitives had at 
 length the consolation to observe the weather 
 setting in with more than ordinary severity. 
 The snow began to fall by the time they crossed 
 the mountains on the borders of Astracan, when 
 finding an extensive and well-watered valley, 
 completely sheltered from the cold winds of the 
 north, they resolved on sojourning there at 
 least until the winter was over. 
 
 For several days the snow continued to de- 
 g2
 
 124 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 scend so thickly, that it darkened the air, wrap- 
 ping the DQountains and the plains in one 
 general mantle, and investing the trunks and 
 branches of the trees that were scattered here 
 and there, with its fleecy covering. In the early 
 part of the morning the huts were not to be 
 distinguished from the hillocks, which the snow, 
 drifted by the winds, had raised in different 
 parts of the valley. But after the fires were 
 kindled, and the smoke had curled from the 
 tops of the huts to mingle with the clouds on 
 the mountains, the black roofs and sides of 
 those pastoral habitations became quickly dis- 
 cernible. The weather necessarily prevented 
 their inmates for some time from all out-door 
 amusements ; but their days, nevertheless, sel- 
 dom appeared to hang heavily upon their hands. 
 When the usual meals were over, chess and 
 cards and dice, the song and the dance were 
 resumed. When the mountain torrents were 
 at length suspended in their course by the frost, 
 and the trees were ornamented as if by genii, in 
 the beautiful filagree icicles, which afforded an 
 assurance that the red deer might be followed 
 over the ridges of the mountains without any 
 danger of sinking in the snow, the hunters were
 
 NQURMAHAL. 125 
 
 out with their poles bounding from height to 
 height, with an agiUty that rivalled the fleet- 
 nessof the animal of which they were in pursuit. 
 
 For Kazim, however, none of these amuse- 
 ments possessed any great attraction. Though 
 he could not well avoid joining the many social 
 circles formed in the camp throughout the 
 long winter nights, nevertheless his thoughts 
 were far away from those scenes, commun- 
 ing with higher spirits. The game of chess, 
 which he now learned for the first time, had 
 more charms for his mind than any other pas- 
 time; it engrossed his attention, and set the 
 intellect at work. But when the excitement of 
 the hour was over, he reverted to his recol- 
 lections of the books he had read, and even 
 sometimes prevailed upon his associates to listen 
 to the verses of Asefi, which he recited with 
 the most engaging gracefulness. 
 
 From poetry Kazim sometimes changed the 
 theme to history, especially to that of the em- 
 pires of Persia and Hindostan, of which he ap- 
 peared to have made himself complete master. 
 He related how Timur, setting out from Samar- 
 cand with a million of troops, advanced along 
 the vast plains of Bactria, and climbed the Hima-
 
 126 NOUR MAHAL. 
 
 las, though opposed by the native tribes of those 
 rugged and lofty mountains at every step. The 
 difficulties of the ascent were often less than 
 those that opposed his downward progress, for 
 the steep precipices, or rather mural ramparts, 
 which lay in the line of his march, offered no 
 means of descent. Under these circumstances, 
 that brave commander ordered himself to be 
 let down by ropes ; and in this manner he and 
 his followers, together with their horses, were en- 
 abled, after incredible toils, to behold at length, 
 stretching at their feet, the fertile fields of Hin- 
 dostan. Kazim shuddered while he described 
 the sanguinary battles, by means of which Timur 
 established his throne at Delhi, with a degree 
 of imperial splendour unknown before his time. 
 The adventures of his grandson, Baber, the 
 knight-errant of the East, had peculiar charms 
 for the youths of the tribe. One day, in the 
 possession of absolute power, and clothed in all 
 the sumptuousness of unbounded luxury, the 
 next he was rendered an outcast and a mendi- 
 cant by the changing fortunes of war. After 
 tasting' for a season of adversity in all its most 
 painful forms, he was again raised to sovereign 
 power, which he graced by his intellectual ac-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 127 
 
 complishments. The feeble reign of Humaioon 
 that followed, was, in a great measure, redeemed 
 from oblivion by the patronage which that 
 prince, though somewhat fantastic in his taste, 
 bestowed on letters and the sciences, especially 
 the science of astronomy. But his son Acbar, 
 who had ascended the throne of India at the 
 age of thirteen,* and who was now the reigning 
 prince, seemed, from all that Kazim had heard 
 of him at Samarcand, to have already ac- 
 quired a fame, both in the field and the council, 
 which promised to outshine all his predecessors. 
 From the exploits he had already performed, 
 having reduced nearly the whole of India 
 under his power, it was conjectured that he 
 would soon add even Persia to his already 
 magnificent empire. Rumour had spoken 
 much of his wise minister Abul Fazeel, to whose 
 councils, it was said, he was indebted for the 
 retention of the conquests he had made. It was 
 the province of that distinguished person, to heal 
 the wounds inflicted on the mass of the people 
 by war. Wherever the arms of Acbar had 
 carried terror and devastation, Fazeel followed 
 
 * In the year i 556.
 
 128 nourmAhal. 
 
 in the bloody footsteps of his imperial master, 
 like a benevolent genius, redressing, as far as 
 it was possible, the complaints of the injured, 
 and substituting for disorder and contention the 
 blessings of organization and peace. 
 
 Sometimes, if the night were favourable for 
 his purpose, Kazim induced the young men, 
 who often crowded to his hut^ to ascend the 
 nearest height, whence he bade them watch the 
 countless orbs of fire which glowed in the azure 
 firmament. They expected that he would read 
 in that splendid page the destinies of their na- 
 tion, and importuned him to impart to them that 
 species of knowledge which the stars can teach. 
 He told them of the difference that existed be- 
 tween the planets, which, like the earth, moved 
 round the sun, and the spheres which apparently 
 had no motion. So far they understood his ex- 
 planations. But they began to look upon him 
 as a magician, when he added, that the congre- 
 gation of lights which they beheld crowded to- 
 gether in the sky, were absolutely as nothing- 
 compared with the multitudes hidden from their 
 gaze in the remoter oceans of space, and that, 
 nevertheless, each of these orbs was a sun in 
 itself, attended by worlds of its own peopled
 
 NOURMAHAL. 129 
 
 by every order of created being ; and that the 
 whole, instead of being stationary, as they 
 seemed, were moving, together with our sun 
 and its system, round the centre of the uni- 
 verse, where the Great Spirit reigned in a region 
 of glory, that knew not beginning or end, day 
 or night, winter or summer. 
 
 g5
 
 130 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Ye Heavens, for this in showers of sweetness shed 
 Your mildest influence o'er her favoured head ! 
 Long may her name, which distant climes shall praise, 
 Live in our notes, and blossom in our lays. 
 
 SOLIMA. 
 
 Although Kazim was generally respected 
 throughout the tribe, of which he now formed a 
 member, for his personal character and his 
 great acquirements, yet he could not conceal 
 from himself, during the solitary rambles in 
 which he frequently indulged among the moun- 
 tains, that this was not precisely the kind of 
 existence he had prefigured for himself at 
 Samarcand. Of the ordinary necessaries and 
 conveniences of life he enjoyed a sufficiency, 
 and there were even those among the tribe 
 whom he might look upon in the light of
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 131 
 
 friends. But their intellect did not commune 
 with his. There was no person near him with 
 whom he could converse, upon equal terms, on 
 any subject derived from history, science, or 
 even popular poetry or fable. The habits of a 
 wandering nation, whether warlike or pastoral, 
 were such as he felt could never be congenial 
 to his tastes. He had no pleasure in assisting 
 to water the herds, or in preparing the materials 
 of the huts, or in going through the domestic 
 occupations which every new day brought with 
 it. The sports afforded to others by the moun- 
 tain, the plain, or the jungle, were to him so 
 many occasions for toil, from which he derived 
 no gratification. 
 
 Mangeli was, indeed, in herself, a little world, 
 to which his busy thoughts and stirring aspira- 
 tions frequently fled for repose. When he be- 
 held her engaged in the duties of her simple 
 household, and read in her lighted smiles the 
 pleasure which she felt in rendering their hum- 
 ble home orderly, because it was shared with 
 him, he yielded to the rush of delightful sensa- 
 tions that thrilled his whole frame. But when 
 he remembered that he would soon have to 
 provide for more than Mangeli, and that his
 
 132 
 
 NOUKMAHAL. 
 
 ] resent means or jDiospects afforded no hope 
 that their offspring would ever be raised above 
 the grade of mere shepherds, he blushed with 
 shame at the degradation which he had, how- 
 ever innocently, brought upon the once noble 
 and distinguished race of Ayas. His thoughts 
 upon this delicate point were by no means hid- 
 den from the partner of his life and fate, who, 
 without any other instruction than that which he 
 himself and affection had given her, was enabled 
 to read upon his brow the sentiments that were 
 passing through his mind, even where they did 
 not break out into expression. No commen- 
 tary, however, that could wound his feelings 
 ever escaped her lips on those occasions. She 
 was contented with her lot, such as it was ; 
 but, at the same time, she never failed to assure 
 Kazim that wherever he waSj she should be 
 equally happy. She could live with him in 
 their hut, wherever it might be raised from time 
 to tiuje ; or she could wander with him over the 
 desert or the mountain, should it be his wish to 
 try his fortunes in those distant countries, of 
 w hich he had so often made mention. 
 
 One day, when Kazim happened to extend 
 his mountain rambles beyond their ordinary
 
 NOURMAHAL. 133 
 
 distance, he was surprised, on looking towards 
 the south, to behold an enormous ridge of snow 
 shining in the sun, above the clouds, in which, 
 at that season of the year, the Hiraalas were 
 usually concealed from view. While he was 
 gazing upon the sublime spectacle, his attention 
 was suddenly attracted by the sound of a voice 
 quite near him ; when, turning round, he beheld 
 a dervish resting on a long staff, which he held 
 with both his hands. 
 
 *^ I have been anxiously in search of you, 
 Kazim Ayas," said the stranger, ** since your 
 fortunate escape from Karaman. You won my 
 admiration at Samarcand. There you were the 
 master of the whole circle of knowledge, and 
 what are you here? I followed you to Arjun — 
 I followed you to the obscure cottage in which 
 you buried yourself on the banks of the llamish 
 — I followed you to Karaman ; and where do I 
 at length find you ? Among a tribe no better 
 than the sheep, from which they derive their 
 subsistence ! For shame, Ayas ! one of your 
 Tartar race — you, who might restore your house 
 to more than its former splendour by your 
 talents — to waste away the most precious years 
 of your existence among these inglorious hills !
 
 134 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 To Hindostan, I say, the moment the snows are 
 gone. Behold the Himalas, which lift their 
 heads above the clouds. Be their ambition 
 yours; and, like them, the sun of glory shall 
 yet shine upon your brow ! To Hindostan, I 
 say, when the snows are gone !" 
 
 Kazim, overcome with surprise, in conse- 
 quence not less of the words addressed to 
 him, than of the manner of the stranger, whom 
 he remembered to have seen somewhere be- 
 fore, stood petrified before the dervish, doubt- 
 ing whether the vision was not supernatural. 
 Nor was this feeling at all diminished, when, on 
 removing his hand from his eyes, on which he 
 had pressed it for a moment, as if to recall his 
 wandering thoughts, he saw nobody near him, 
 nor even the trace of a footstep on the spot 
 where the dervish had stood. He called out in 
 an agitated voice, repeatedly, but he received 
 no answer, except the faint echo of his own 
 exclamation. The incident astonished him, the 
 more he thought of it. He ran here and there 
 among the snow-crowned crags, and looked 
 down the precipices, and at each side of the 
 ridges, but nowhere could he discover the least 
 symptom of the stranger. He remained on the
 
 NOURMAHAL. 136 
 
 mountain, still expecting the return of the der- 
 vish, until the approach of ni2;ht warned him 
 that it was time to terminate his excursion. 
 
 When Kazim informed Mangeli of his ad- 
 venture, she playfully looked into his eyes, and 
 in her simple and bewitching way asked him, 
 if he had not fallen asleep on the hills, and 
 dreamt what he had told her ? When he 
 endeavoured to assure her of the contrary, and 
 described his interview with the stranger, as well 
 as the very tone of voice in which the mys- 
 terious words were uttered, she still declared her- 
 self incredulous. At the same time she added, 
 that she well knew he could never be contented 
 to pursue the kind of life in which he was now 
 • detained ; and that, if at the breaking up of the 
 winter, he resolved to abandon the tribe, she 
 would be prepared to go with him even to Hin- 
 dostan, through every difficulty and danger. 
 Kazim was almost angry that he could not in- 
 duce Mangeli to believe the story which he had 
 related, extraordinary though it was; but the 
 more he reflected on it, the more he was induced 
 to waver about the certainty which he had felt 
 at first; and eventually, he was inclined with 
 her to suspect that the dervish was the creation
 
 36 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 of his own fancy, heated by much meditation 
 on the circumstances in which he was placed. 
 Whether it was a reahty or a vision, however, 
 such was the impression it made upon his mind, 
 that the pastoral manners and occupations of 
 the friendly tribe appeared to him, after that 
 day, more monotonous than ever, and he re- 
 solved, at all events, to effect a change in the 
 present obscure routine of his existence. 
 
 The long winter of those regions at length 
 approached its term. Suddenly the zephyrs 
 of the spring came from the groves where they 
 had hitherto been sleeping. The icicles that 
 depended from the precipices, over which the 
 torrents had formerly dashed in their course, 
 as well as the snowy mantle so long spread 
 over the hills and plains, disappeared at once, 
 as if by the command of a magician. A 
 rich carpet of green herbage every where met 
 the eye, interspersed with the snow-drop, the 
 gay crocus, the modest primrose, the cowslip, 
 and a thousand wild flowers, which seemed to re- 
 joice in the cheering rays of the sun. The 
 mares and their young galloped over the soft 
 turf, wild with renovated joy. The lambs that 
 were newly born, frisked about, caUing oc-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 137 
 
 casionally to their dams in a tumult of merry 
 sounds, and running races with each other 
 down the decUvities of the hills on which they 
 were at pasture. INature dressed herself out as 
 for a holiday ; the trees were filled with birds 
 that made the air resound with their music, and 
 even the floods that rushed from the heights, 
 subdued their usual uproar into an enchanting 
 murmur. 
 
 Kazim hoped that the tribe would now 
 think of changing their abode, and that he 
 might, during the general movement, easily se- 
 parate himself from them, without informing 
 the kind prince of his intentions. He could 
 give no cause to that worthy ruler of an inno- 
 cent people for the resolution which he had 
 adopted ; he felt that even the mention of such 
 an idea would be received with surprise and 
 regret, if not even with anger, by every one of 
 his new friends ; and as he really had no excuse 
 to offer for his conduct, which could appear to 
 them in the least degree reasonable, considering 
 the unambitious habits in which they had all 
 been brought up; he convinced himself that his 
 best plan would be not to consult them on the 
 subject. But the spring came without suggest-
 
 138 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 ing any desire on their part to change their tem- 
 porary residence. The pasturage around them 
 was excellent, as well as abundant ; and until it 
 was exhausted, it seemed that they would be 
 disinclined to further emigration. Kazim there- 
 fore determined to make immediate preparations 
 for his expedition, but with as much secresy as 
 possible. 
 
 Selecting an intensely dark night for his 
 purpose, he put together the few articles of 
 value which had been presented to him from 
 time to time, by the prince and other members 
 of the tribe, and placing the package on his 
 camel, he led the animal cautiously beyond the 
 precincts of the camp, Mangeli walking with 
 him hand in hand. His horse he left behind, 
 justly apprehending that it would be rather an 
 incumbrance than an auxiliary to them in cross- 
 ing the vast solitudes which lay between Astra- 
 can and the frontiers of India. Then lifting 
 Mangeli to her seat on the back of the camel, 
 he walked by her side, assisting her to retain 
 her position until she was in some measure ac- 
 customed to it. Pursuing their way through 
 the outskirts of the camp without any clue to 
 guide them, they had the satisfaction to find
 
 NOURMAHAL. 139 
 
 themselves soon ascending the mountains by 
 which it was surrounded ; and as the day 
 dawned, they faintly descried the huts of their 
 late friends through the mists which still floated 
 over the valley. They looked back more than 
 once upon those habitations with feelings of 
 regret, remembering the hospitality and affec- 
 tion with which they had been uniformly treated 
 by every individual of the tribe. A ridge of the 
 mountain at length shut out the camp from 
 their view, and the sun rising gloriously in a 
 cloudless sky, enabled Kazim to shape his course 
 towards the town of Arcan, where he hoped to 
 exchange for money the few Persian shawls 
 and trinkets of which he was possessed. 
 
 Mangeli, though less fatigued by her first day's 
 journey than she expected she should be, saw 
 with pleasure towards evening the domes of 
 Arcan shining in the distance. Here they took 
 up their abode for the night in the public cara- 
 vanserai, where Kazim had great difficulty in 
 selling; his small merchandize to some Arme- 
 nians, whom he met there on their return from 
 Bokhara to Astracan. When he looked at the 
 fund with which he was thus furnished, and 
 compared it with the long route which they
 
 140 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 still had to traverse before they could reach 
 Lahore, he felt as if he had been already thrown 
 on the wide ocean of the world, without a single 
 friendly star to light his way. He had not the 
 courage to communicate to Mangeli, the in- 
 adequacy of the store with which they had al- 
 ready commenced their expedition. Recom- 
 mending himself and his beloved wife to Pro- 
 vidence, he led forth his camel with its precious 
 burthen from Arcan the following morning. 
 
 The adventurous pair continued thus to 
 travel constantly from day to day, stopping dur- 
 ing the night at such towns or villages as they 
 met with in their line of journey, until at length 
 Mangeli was attacked by a violent fever, which 
 for a while threatened to put an end to their 
 enterprize altogether. This unfortunate event, 
 besides delaying them far beyond the time when 
 they had calculated on reaching India, ex- 
 hausted the slender means with which they had 
 been provided. They had now parted with 
 every thing they possessed, except the camel 
 and the shawl in which the sacred relics of their 
 father had been wrapped. The former Kazim 
 was at length oblio:ed to exchange for a wretched 
 horse, in order to discharge the debts which he
 
 NOURMAHAL. 141 
 
 had contracted during the illness of Mangeli ; 
 and had it not been for the charity of some 
 good villagers who dwelt on the borders of the 
 great desert, they would have perished of hun- 
 ger before they entered on that perilous portion 
 of their journey.
 
 142 
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 We ought to love the griefs that come, 
 
 For they're like clouds from heaven to throw 
 
 More radiance round the setting sun, 
 More splendour o'er his dying glow. 
 
 MOSULNA. 
 
 Kazim could scarcely avoid reproaching him- 
 self with extreme imprudence, when, towards 
 the close of his first day's progress in the de- 
 sert, he took down Mangeli in his arms from the 
 back of the half-starved and jaded animal, on 
 which she had been unavoidably riding for 
 many hours without intermission. He produced 
 a store of sour milk, which he had obtained 
 from the good villagers ; but when he offered it 
 to Mangeli, he thought in vain of the gushing 
 and transparent streams which they had left 
 behind them, amidst the mountains of Astracan. 
 She drank the beverage with a cheerfulness
 
 NOURMAHAL. 143 
 
 which, notwithstanding her late iUness, and the 
 many mortifications they had already endured, 
 still remained undiminished. But when Kazim 
 looked upon the sun descending into the bosom 
 of the boundless waste around them, and be- 
 held, as far as the eye could reach, not the 
 slightest trace of a human habitation of any 
 sort, he almost wished that the earth would 
 open, and receiving them into its most gloomy 
 cavern, close upon them for ever. 
 
 With the night came the cold wind of the 
 desert, often fatal even to those who are best 
 prepared to resist it. Kazim and Mangeli lay 
 down beside the poor animal that was destined 
 to participate in all their privations. His body 
 protected them, in some degree, from the piercing 
 wind which blew over the plains with a wailing 
 sound. The firmament was crowded with its 
 wonted fires, but Kazim no longer looked at 
 them with the interest which they had never be- 
 fore failed to kindle in his breast. Mano;eli and 
 her approaching fears now absorbed his every 
 thought, and as she lay trembling beside him 
 on the bare ground, he called out, in the agony 
 of his heart, to Allah, to protect her through 
 the trials she had still to encounter. But
 
 144 KOURMAHAL. 
 
 the freezing gale swept along the desert, in 
 howling blasts, like the voice of some enormous 
 beast of prey tracking them for destruction ; 
 nor did it cease to renew its loud and length- 
 ened roar, until the sun re-appeared on the 
 horizon. Warmed by its welcome rays, Kazim 
 and Mangeli enjoyed some hours of feverish 
 slumber, while their less unhappy companion 
 browsed upon some tufts of half-parched herb- 
 age, which he found scattered on the surface of 
 the steppe. 
 
 When they awoke, Kazim spoke of returning 
 to the village which they had last left, on the bor- 
 ders of the desert ; but Mangeli said, that she 
 felt much better, and as their provisions were 
 still suflBcient for at least three or four days, by 
 which time they were informed that they should 
 certainly meet with several caravans from Thibet 
 and Turkestan, she thought it better that they 
 should go on, as they had already advanced so 
 far on their journey. Kazim reluctantly yielded 
 to this kind of reasoning, and they resumed their 
 slow and melancholy march over the plains, 
 without meeting a single traveller, or even an 
 animated creature of any description, for severab 
 days in succession. The unbounded appearance
 
 NOURMAHAL. 145 
 
 of the desert was in itself appalling ; butKazim 
 had no expression for the despair that brooded 
 upon his heart, while he was thus penetrating 
 through a region of silence, interrupted only by 
 the night-winds, whose dismal tones he pre- 
 ferred, with all their terrors, to the unearthly 
 stillness of the long day in those endless solitudes. 
 They had now seen the tenth sun go down 
 upon the still expanded waste, and no caravan 
 had yet appeared. Their provisions were already 
 exhausted, when the poor animal, which still 
 continued to bear Mangeli, being also without 
 food, sank upon the earth, unable to proceed 
 any farther. The shock brought on her pains 
 somewhat prematurely ; and in this condi- 
 tion, on the naked barren sand, without shel- 
 ter, without sustenance, without even a cup 
 of water to moisten her parched lips, did 
 the hapless wife of Kazim become the mother 
 of a female infant. Kazim wrung his hands 
 with anguish, when he beheld his first-born thus 
 come into the world, without his possessing 
 any thing to wrap it in, save the ragged turban 
 which he tore off his head. The babe uttered 
 no cry. It seemed too attenuated and feeble 
 to live ; indeed it seemed already dead, for its 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 tiny breathing was scarcely perceptible to its 
 distracted parent. 
 
 Mangeli lay insensible for several hours, while 
 Kazim, fearful of quitting her side for a mo- 
 ment, sat near her, waiting for the approach of 
 that death from which he now saw no expecta- 
 tion of release. When, at length, she opened 
 her once beauteous eyes, she rose up and asked 
 Kazim for her infant, with an energy that quite 
 surprised him. It was the strength of delirium ; 
 for when he placed her babe in her arms, she 
 seemed still unconscious of its presence, and 
 demanded, in a voice of lamentation that almost 
 broke his heart, why he took away from her the 
 only solace that she now had in the world? 
 Suddenly, as the child nestled closely to her 
 breast, where it sought in vain for its natural 
 nutriment, the senses of the mother returned, 
 and betrayed to her the whole extent of her 
 misery. 
 
 Here it was impossible, at all events, that 
 they could remain any longer. No change of 
 place could bring destruction with more cer- 
 tainty, than the scene to which they were now 
 confined. Summoning, therefore, whatever 
 strength he could still command, Kazim urged
 
 NOURMAHAL. 147 
 
 the prostrate animal to rise ; and the creature, 
 as if he felt that some effort upon his part was 
 nesessary, even to his own safety, submitted 
 quietly, while Mangeli once more placed 
 upon his back, moved forward with some ap- 
 pearance of renovated ability. Mangeli was 
 too weak to bear the infant in her arms, but 
 Kazim, though scarcely stronger than his wife, 
 assured her that he could carry it while he 
 walked by her side. 
 
 The unhappy family had been little more than 
 an hour from their last memorable resting-place, 
 when Kazim, who was eagerly looking all 
 round the horizon, cried out that he saw a 
 horseman in the distance, who must, no doubt, 
 be the precursor of one of the long expected 
 caravans. Laying the babe upon the earth, he 
 ran towards the object which was moving 
 rapidly across the desert; he shouted with all 
 his might, and waved his hand over his head, 
 still running, until he fell, utterly overcome by 
 the exertion which he had made. But the 
 horseman, if such it was, passed out of sight ; 
 and instead of that friendly spectacle, Ka- 
 zim, when he returned to himself, beheld 
 perched near him on the ground, an immense 
 h2
 
 148 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 vulture, which, glaring upon him with its pier* 
 cing eyes, already seemed to claim him for its 
 prey. 
 
 Had the vulture attacked him, he could not, 
 at that moment, have resisted it. He looked at 
 the ill-omened bird, as it hopped around him, 
 with the feeling of a person oppressed in sleep 
 by the night-mare. There was a load upon 
 his senses that kept him fixed to the earth, and 
 prevented him from throwing at the foul crea- 
 ture the sand which he instinctively grasped in 
 his hand for the purpose. Still it hopped round 
 and round, the slaver falling from its beak, as it 
 feasted by anticipation on a new victim. The 
 approach of Mangeli, however, who impelled 
 her wearied steed to its last effort, put the vul- 
 ture to flight, but not to any great distance ; for 
 he now directed his course towards the infant, 
 which he perceived hard by. The vigour wanted 
 by Kazim for bis own protection he found 
 at once, when he beheld the danger to which 
 his offspring was exposed. Running towards 
 the spot, with the fleetness of an arrow, he 
 snatched up the child with one hand, while 
 with the other he hurled against the ravenous 
 intruder some dried bones of man or beas-t.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 149 
 
 which he picked up on the way. From one of 
 these the vulture received such a blow on the 
 head that he fled screaming over the desert. 
 
 The horror occasioned by this incident, soon 
 yielded to a sense of overwhelming joy ; when, 
 after advancing for another hour or two, they 
 beheld, at a considerable distance, an extensive 
 lake, upon which vessels laden with dates and 
 melons, grapes, oranges, and every kind of deli- 
 cious fruit, were seen in great numbers crossing 
 and re-crossing the surface of the waters in all 
 directions. Islands, whose verdure was pecu- 
 liarly grateful to eyes so long dazzled by the 
 glare of the sun on the sand of the desert, were 
 scattered over the lake in picturesque groups, 
 intersected by streams which shone like veins 
 of silver, and abounding with trees whose 
 spreading branches promised a refreshing shade. 
 A boat, rowed by two men, put off' from the 
 principal island as soon as the travellers were in 
 sight, and approached the margin of the waters 
 for their especial accommodation. 
 
 There was already a freshness in the atmo- 
 sphere, which gave new life even to the animal 
 that had hitherto borne Mano;eli with falterino: 
 steps, and urged him to hasten towards the
 
 150 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 lake with a rapidity which Kazim in vain en- 
 deavoured to rival. But the greater the ex- 
 pedition they used, the farther the islands, 
 as well as the surrounding element, receded 
 from the view of the wearied pilgrims. During 
 the whole day they pursued the fleeting vision, 
 until at length it faded, on the approach of 
 evening, altogether from their sight, leaving 
 them in a state of helplessness for which they 
 now gave up all hope of finding any remedy. 
 Kazim, unable to bear the little burthen in his 
 arms any longer, resigned the task to Mangeli, 
 who, sitting on the ground, received her child 
 with that vacant smile which denotes the return 
 of delirium. Her hands trembled violently, 
 while she endeavoured to clasp the infant to 
 her bosom ; but they fell powerless by her side, 
 as she swooned away in the effort, overcome by 
 fatigue, and reduced to the last stage of famine. 
 Kazim had a dim recollection, that in their 
 haste towards the imaginary lake they had 
 passed a palm-tree. Returning some hundred 
 paces, he perceived the companion of their jour- 
 ney busily engaged in browsing on the leaves 
 and tender branches of some shrubs, near which 
 the palm-tree grew bearing a few dates still
 
 NOURMAHAL. 151 
 
 unripe. He plucked them in a moment, and 
 bringing them to Mangeli, moistened her lips 
 with the juice of the fruit, while he contented 
 himself by chewing some leaves which he had 
 torn from the shrubs. The liquid, such as it 
 was, revived her for a moment, but she again 
 relapsed into a state of insensibility resembling 
 death. The poor infant lay upon her knees, 
 exposed to all the dangers of the night. Kazim 
 contrived to make a bed for it araono; branches 
 of the palm, which he gathered for the purpose, 
 and placing the babe at the foot of the tree, 
 covered it, as well as he could, from the incle- 
 mency of the cold blast, which had already 
 commenced its melancholy murmur. 
 
 When Kazim told Mangeli in the morning 
 what he had done, he added, that as they had 
 no hope of finding sustenance for the babe, it 
 would be better to leave it in the desert than 
 attempt to carry it any farther. His own 
 strength was quite gone, and, above all, he felt 
 apprehensions which he dared not reveal, that 
 if another day or two passed over without their 
 meeting with any food, temptations of the most 
 dreadful description might be irresistible to both 
 of them. Mangeli understood her husband at
 
 152 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 once, and nodding her head in apparent ac- 
 quiescence, desired to depart without a moment's 
 delay. When she was seated on the horse, she 
 expressed a wish, however, to be led towards 
 the palm-tree, that she might at least once more 
 behold the spot destined to be the grave of her 
 infant. She looked at the tree with silent 
 grief for a few minutes, and then permitting 
 Kazim to turn the head of the animal round, 
 she proceeded on her journey, still keeping her 
 eyes reverted on the palm. When that beacon 
 began to lessen by degrees, and at length to 
 escape altogether from her sight, the voice of 
 nature resumed its power over the heart of the 
 agonized mother: — ** My child ! my child !" she 
 exclaimed, ^' give me my child, or let me perish 
 by her side !" Throwing herself from the 
 horse, she attempted to run towards the palm- 
 tree, but she fell upon the earth, unable to move 
 a single pace. The prudent fears of Kazim 
 gave way at once before the entreaties of Man- 
 geli, as well as to his own paternal impulses, 
 and telling her that he would in a moment gra- 
 tify her wishes, let the consequences be what 
 they might, he hastened towards the tree near 
 which the infant was laid. But while he was
 
 NOURMAHAL. 153 
 
 removing the palm-branches, in which he had 
 enveloped it, he was struck with horror on per- 
 ceiving a black snake, of enormous dimensions, 
 coiled round the child, and hissing with all its 
 fury, enraged at being disturbed in its prepara- 
 tions for devouring the banquet it had found. 
 
 Kazim, seeing the danger to which his child 
 was exposed, grasped the neck of the snake in 
 his hand with a convulsive effort, and placing 
 it under his foot, pressed it to the earth, while 
 the venom flowed from its fangs covered with 
 foam. Then untwisting the loathsome bands in 
 which the babe had been folded, he took it up 
 in his arms, and leaving the snake to its fate, 
 returned to Mangeli, who had witnessed the 
 result of the contest with a feeling of joy that 
 appeared to give her new life. 
 
 While the parents were examining their in- 
 fant, in order to assure themselves that the 
 snake had done it no injury, a group of horse- 
 men galloped towards them, who saw, from 
 their appearance, that they were in a condition 
 of the most deplorable misery. The strangers, 
 alighting from their steeds, produced from the 
 wallets which were attached to their saddles, 
 an abundance of delicious dates and figs, to- 
 H 5
 
 104 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 gether with clusters of half-dried grapes of 
 Ghazni, the best which are yielded by the vine- 
 yards of Asia. Their caravan, they said, which 
 was coming from Ferghana, bound for Kabul, 
 would soon be in sight, and the unhappy travel- 
 lers might expect every assistance it could 
 afford.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 155 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 See yon fair groves that o'er Amana rise. 
 And with their spicy breath embalm the skies ; 
 Where every breeze sheds incense o'er the vales, 
 And every shrub the scent of musk exhales ! 
 See through yon opening glade a glittering scene. 
 Lawns ever gay, and meadows ever green. 
 
 SOLIMA. 
 
 Kazim had the inexpressible pleasure to see 
 Mangeli look once more like herself, when, re- 
 freshed by the food she had taken, she busied 
 herself about her infant, whom she was feedino- 
 with some mare's milk, which the kind stran- 
 gers had given her. Towards noon, the great 
 body of the caravan appeared in sight, fol- 
 lowed by an immense number of horses, des- 
 tined to be exchanged at Kabul for the cloths 
 the sugars, the drugs and spices of Hindostan.
 
 156 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 As soon as the principal members of the caravan 
 learned the sad intelligence which the horsemen 
 told concerning the wanderers, who had nearly 
 fallen victims to fam.ine in the desert, a tent 
 was pitched, in which rich carpets were spread, 
 and assigned immediately to the use of Man- 
 geli. A skilful female slave was also appointed 
 to attend her, who administered to her such 
 medicinal care as her situation required. The 
 great body of the caravan moved forward, after 
 having rested during the heat of the day ; but a 
 small party was ordered to remain behind, until 
 Mangeli was in a condition to travel without 
 pain or inconvenience. 
 
 In the course of a few days the young mo- 
 ther, invigorated by the hospitable care with 
 which she was treated, found herself in a situ- 
 ation to afford her child an abundance of the 
 nutriment most suitable to its tender age. The 
 opening smiles of the infant began already to 
 recompense her for the dreadful sufferings 
 she had undergone ; and when she joined the 
 caravan, seated on her own quiet palfrey, which 
 had also profited not a little by the change that 
 had taken place, with the babe asleep on her 
 bosom, and her husband riding a beautiful steed
 
 NOURMAHAL. 15*7 
 
 of Ferghana by her side, she felt as if thjeir 
 journey were already at an end ; at least, that 
 its toils and dangers were now over. 
 
 The desert was already passed, and the 
 mountains of Kabul at length appeared on the 
 horizon, like a lofty mural boundary stretching 
 across the country from east to west. It seemed 
 at first, as if no access could be found which 
 would enable the traveller to ascend those 
 lieights, whose summits were lost in the clouds. 
 But as they approached nearer to the mountains, 
 and began gradually to climb the rising grounds, 
 they found the formidable barrier breaking up 
 into green hills, affording pleasant paths that 
 conducted them by easy winding courses, with 
 perfect safety, from the lower to the higher re- 
 gions. Waters falling from the rocks sparkled 
 on the eye, and cheered the mind by their music. 
 The spirit of freedom breathed in the air around, 
 and filled the heart with extacy, while from 
 numerous copses broke forth the song of a thou- 
 sand birds, whose varied notes formed an en- 
 chanting contrast with the awful silence of the 
 desert. 
 
 It was the season when the citron- trees were 
 in bloom, and the orange had already begun to
 
 158 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 look yellow through the green leaves by which 
 it was sheltered from the scorching beams of 
 the san. The apple-trees had also put forth 
 their ruddy and snow-white blossoms, which 
 were mingled in beautiful profusion with those 
 of the almcmd, the pomegranate and the peach. 
 The declivities were every where decked with 
 flowers, amongst which the tuHp reared its 
 graceful chalice, streaked with green and gold, 
 while the purple convolvolus spread in elegant 
 festoons from precipice to precipice. The In- 
 dian pink, the red and yellow rose, the sweet- 
 briar, and the jasmine gave all their variety and 
 fragrance to the scene, while the peacock dis- 
 played his azure neck, and unfolded his magni- 
 ficent plumage, the flying squirrel went through 
 his merry anticks, the green parrot chattered, 
 the turtle-dove cooed, and the nightingale 
 poured forth her melodies among the groves 
 which crowned the adjacent heights. 
 
 As the caravan wound up the sides of the 
 mountain, a caution was given to the whole 
 body to keep close together, they being now on 
 the borders of Kaferistan, a savage tract of 
 territory, inhabited by tribes who have for many 
 ages existed principally by plunder. Hiding in
 
 NOURMAHAL. 159 
 
 the recesses of their native rocks, they- rush down 
 suddenly on the defenceless traveller, from 
 heights which he might deem only the abode 
 of the eagle. Not content with robbing their 
 victim of his merchandize, they deprive him 
 even of his apparel, and afterwards tie him to 
 the nearest tree, where they leave his bones to 
 be bleached by the sun and the winds. Cara- 
 vans they attack with more systematic prepara- 
 tion. They wait until the train involves itself 
 among the most difficult passes of the moun- 
 tains, or is obliged to halt during the night be- 
 fore the passes are entered. In the former case, 
 they easily throw the whole line into confusion, 
 by rolling immense rocks down upon the narrow 
 defile : in the latter, they arm themselves with 
 burning branches of the pine-tree, by which 
 they are not only easily distinguishable from 
 the party they assail, but which they use in ad- 
 dition to their double-edged axes, as weapons 
 of the most formidable nature, setting fire to 
 the tents, and affrighting the horses and other 
 animals which fly for refuge to the heights, 
 where confederates are stationed for the purpose 
 of capturing all the prey they can find. 
 
 Upon the approach of night, therefore, orders
 
 160 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 were given for pitching the tents of the caravan 
 on a decUvity of the mountain, as near to each 
 other as the nature of the ground permitted. 
 The horses were collected together near the 
 tents, and sentinels were established at some 
 distance round the encampment, whose duty it 
 was to give the signal of alarm, should they 
 discover any movement on the heights above. 
 The horses of Ferghana, which always found 
 a high price and a ready market at Kabul, were 
 particularly coveted by the Kafirs ; and a cara- 
 van from that district seldom crossed these 
 mountains without sustaining great loss— never 
 without molestation. 
 
 Kazim's recent experience in war, such as it 
 was, gave his counsels some weight during the 
 discussion of the different plans which were 
 proposed for defending the caravan from the 
 banditti. He suggested, that instead of waiting 
 for their approach, measures should be adopted 
 for attacking them before they could reach the 
 camp, in case they should make their appear- 
 ance ; and under his superintendence arrange- 
 ments were made, for the execution of which 
 the nature of the country afforded peculiar faci- 
 lities.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 161 
 
 Towards midnight, a sentinel brought in word 
 that he had just seen a light, which he had at 
 first mistaken for a star, moving rapidly near 
 the summit of the mountain. Kazim imme- 
 diately divided his little troop into two parties, 
 one of which he stationed in front of the camp, 
 the other he led up to a group of plane-trees, 
 where he directed his followers to procure the 
 most shady branches they could find, and such 
 as they could, at the same time, carry in one 
 hand, without preventing the other from wielding 
 the sabre. They had scarcely armed themselves 
 with these rude shields, when the lights began 
 to thicken on the mountain top, and all the 
 sentinels returned from their posts, assured that 
 the robbers were in motion. 
 
 By and by a stream of light descended the 
 mountain, in a zig-zag course, now broken by 
 intervening rocks, now hidden by the forests 
 through which it partially gleamed, and now 
 entering a ravine, where it seemed lost for 
 a while in total darkness, save that a slight re- 
 flection in the sky still marked its course. At 
 length, gathering together in a dense mass, like 
 the torrent flood before it precipitates itself over 
 the ledge of rock whence it falls in a sheet into
 
 162 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 the foaming abyss below, the whole appeared as 
 one body of flame, rushmg directly from the 
 heights right upon the encampment. 
 
 Kazim's party separated into small groups on 
 either side of the path by which the outlaws 
 descended, and holding the plane-branches be- 
 fore them, knelt down on one knee, prepared 
 for action, should they be prematurely disco- 
 vered. But the Kafirs passed through the 
 columns, without suspecting that they left aught 
 save shrubs behind them. As their torches al- 
 ready began to gleam before the tents, and to 
 shew the multitude of horses in the lower 
 ground, they leaped forward with an exulting 
 shout, which shewed that they were much in- 
 toxicated with wine. They were, however, in- 
 stantly precipitated upon a steady line, bristling 
 with spears, which proved fatal to their front 
 ranks. Those who were behind, seeing the fate 
 of their companions, turned backwards for 
 flight, when, to their amazement, they found 
 the woods closing upon them on all sides. 
 They stood horror-struck at the spectacle, their 
 torches singled them out as they fled here and 
 there, from what they deemed a supernatural 
 enemy ; they fell almost before they were sabred,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 163 
 
 for cruelty and fear, guilt and superstition, 
 always lodge together in the same breast. 
 When the morning dawned on that mountain- 
 side, it displayed a scene of retribution, such as 
 the borders of Kaferistan had never exhibited 
 before. The dead, each of whom had a leathern 
 bottle of wine tied round his neck, were depo- 
 sited in a hollow space, over which a pile of 
 stones was raised, in order to warn future tra- 
 vellers of the dangers which the caravan had 
 encountered, and to exemplify the effect of 
 meeting such perils with the courage of men, 
 rather than evade them by a base and criminal 
 compromise. 
 
 The honours of the achievement were princi- 
 pally attributed to Kazim, who, however, mo- 
 destly declined ascribing them to any merit of 
 his own. They were due only to Allah, under 
 whose protection the valour of the Ferghanese, 
 and the justice of their cause, received their due 
 reward. But his new friends, desirous of ex- 
 pressing their gratitude for his services, upon 
 which they set a high value, assigned him as a 
 recompense fifty of the best steeds which their 
 herd afforded. These he might exchange at 
 Kabul for money, or any other merchandize
 
 164 nourMahal. 
 
 more suitable to his purposes. As he was des- 
 tined for Lahore, which was still at a consider- 
 able distance, they hoped that the little wealth 
 he might thus obtain, would enable him to per- 
 form the remainder of his journey with greater 
 ease both to himself and Mangeli. 
 
 The caravan arrived in a few days after, 
 without any further interruption, at Kabul, with 
 whose appearance and situation Kazim was de- 
 lighted. Ascending its lofty citadel he beheld 
 the town, surrounded on all sides with extensive 
 gardens, watered by streams directed through 
 aqueducts from the distant hills. To the south 
 stretched the beautiful . lake of Kheirabad, 
 animated by numbers of small boats in which 
 groups of persons were amusing themselves 
 by fishing, while others sauntered through 
 green fields, stretching as far as the eye 
 could reach, decorated by clusters of trees, 
 and by fountains, whose waters sparkled in the 
 sun. This fair sc^ne, the usual resort of the 
 people of Kabul on all holidays, contrasted 
 strongly with the rude aspect of the mountains 
 to the north and the east, which looked like a 
 dreary waste : realizing, in every respect, the 
 description of the Persian poet, who said of
 
 NOURMAHAL. 165 
 
 Kabul, that '* it is at once a mountain and a 
 sea, a town and a desert." 
 
 Kabul was remarkably gay at this time, as it 
 happened that the caravans from Ferghana, 
 Turkestan, Bokhara, Samarcand, and several 
 parts of Hindostan, met together in the market- 
 place, where bazaars were erected for the manu- 
 factures and produce of the different nations. 
 Here were seen rows of white slaves from India, 
 piles of cotton cloth, heaps of sugar-candy, 
 common sugar, spices, and drugs; in another 
 bazaar, gold and silver trinkets, beautifully 
 wrought chains from Ceylon, diamonds, ame- 
 thysts, emeralds, and precious stones of every 
 description, were displ'ayed for sale in their most 
 tempting forms. Farther on, the carpets of 
 Turkey, the sabres of Damascus, the coarse and 
 fine cloths of Irak, and the rich shawls of Persia 
 met the eye ; while in all the open spaces in and 
 near the town, men skilled in the art of display- 
 ing the excellences of the Ferghanese horse in 
 all its points, were seen riding up and down be- 
 fore the dealers from all quarters of Hindostan, 
 Persia, and Turkey, who bargained for the best 
 animals they could find. 
 
 The market of native produce exhibited a
 
 166 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 magnificent display of the fruits of the cold and 
 warm districts, which are within a few hours' 
 march of each other, among the Kabul moun- 
 tains. Those in the former region send thither 
 their walnuts, cherries, damsons, quinces, grapes, 
 peaches, apricots, and pomegranates; while the 
 latter were represented by the sugar-cane, the 
 orange, the citron, the ambek, and the honey- 
 comb teeming with its fragrant liquid. The 
 bazaars abounded also in Kabul wine of the 
 most delicious flavour, which too often induced 
 the Turkish and Persian merchants to forget 
 the salutary precepts of the Koran.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 167 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Now morning breathed : the scented air was mild, 
 Each meadow blossomed, and each valley smiled ; 
 On every shrub the pearly dew-drops hung. 
 On every branch a feathered warbler sung j 
 The cheerful spring her flowery chaplets wove, 
 And incense-breathing gales perfumed the gTOve. 
 
 Indian Tale. 
 
 Kazim remained no longer at Kabul than was 
 absolutely necessary to repair the disasters of 
 the journey over the desert, and to provide for 
 that which he had still to perform across the 
 mountains to Lahore. Having sold his stock of 
 horses to considerable advantage, reserving a 
 pair of the tamest for himelf and Mangeli, he 
 took an affectionate leave of his Ferghanese 
 friends, and set out for India. Mangeli, by this 
 time, had become an excellent traveller. Wrap-
 
 168 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 ping her infant in a large shawl, which was 
 passed over her right shoulder, and tied firmly 
 round her waist, she either nursed the babe, or 
 hushed it to sleep, without alighting from the 
 beautiful animal on which she was mounted. 
 The heat of noon-tide compelled them, indeed, 
 frequently to shelter themselves beneath the 
 spreading plane-trees, or in the recesses of such 
 rocks as afforded at once the convenience of a 
 friendly shade and a crystal spring. But the 
 genial atmosphere of the mountains enabled 
 them, in general, to make long journies from 
 day to day through the passes and roads, of 
 which Kazim had received abundant informa- 
 tion at Kabul. 
 
 Their first resting-place was at the village of 
 Istalif, where Kazim thought that if he had not 
 been already engaged in pursuit of a higher 
 destiny, he should have been well contented to 
 spend the remainder of his life. He was charmed 
 by its situation on the brow of a hill overlook^ 
 ing a valley, rich in every fruit and flower of 
 that genial climate. In the middle of the val- 
 ley he drank of the fountain of the "Three 
 Friends," so called from the different species of 
 trees planted round the spring by three holy
 
 KOURMAHAL. 169 
 
 men, who thus celebrated the friendship which 
 they entertained for each other, and which they 
 renewed by meeting at the fountain for many a 
 year, though they had to travel from remote 
 points of Thibet, Hindostan, and Persia. On one 
 side, palm-trees formed an umbrageous grove, in 
 which a thousand pilgrims might easily find 
 coolness and repose. On another was a group 
 of spreading oaks, the only specimens of the 
 kind to be met with through a vast tract of that 
 country ; and on the third, the flowering Argh- 
 wan put forth its red and yellow blossoms, im- 
 pregnating the air with a delicious odour. "Ah !" 
 said one of the natives to Kazim, who was ad- 
 miring the beauty of the landscape, " when the 
 Arghwan is in full flower, there is not a spot in 
 all the world to be compared to the valley of 
 Istalif !" And when Kazim, after entwining in 
 Mangeli's hair a rose-scented tulip, beheld her 
 resting in the shade, answering by her rapturous 
 smiles those by which her infant already began 
 to recognise its mother, he was disposed to 
 think that the villager scarcely exaggerated the 
 attractions of that happy valley. 
 
 The toils of their journey were easily borne, 
 so long as the travellers remained within 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 he district of Kabul, where the mountains 
 are so many mounds, with rich vales and 
 wide level plains expanding between them, 
 on which hamlets are usually found dis- 
 persed in the most picturesque irregularity. 
 If Kazim were at any time doubtful of the way 
 which he was pursuing, he was seldom long 
 without being able to make inquiry at a cottage, 
 or from hunters who crossed his course in pur- 
 suit of the red deer and the wild ass, or from 
 fowlers in quest of the game that abounds 
 all along the banks of the river Baran, the 
 principal pass up the Hindukush. On entering 
 this grand defile, he was astonished at the size 
 and number of the birds that rushed thither from 
 all quarters. He observed that, during the 
 night especially, the larger game kept constantly 
 flying low over the running water, as its bright- 
 ness afforded them a sense of security from the 
 beasts of prey, which they would have encoun- 
 tered had they remained stationary on the banks. 
 Here also he beheld vast flights of the begla 
 heron, whose feathers supply the plumes w^hich 
 the Turkish and Persian warriors wear on their 
 caps or in their turbans on state occasions. 
 After quitting the Baran, Kazim and Mangeli
 
 NOURMAHAL. 171 
 
 fouml themselves emeimno: on a new world, in 
 which the grasses, the trees, the wild animals 
 and birds, as well as the manners of the people, 
 seemed to be altogether different from any thing 
 of the kind they had ever observed before. 
 They now rarely met with running streams, and 
 had to make their way frequently over the dry 
 channels of former rivers. But Kazim soon dis- 
 covered, that whenever he was in want of water 
 for himself and his horses, he had only to turn 
 up a part of the bed, when the cavity was filled 
 immediately with a limpid spring. After pur- 
 suing their way for some days among the higher 
 ridges of the mountains, which were still covered 
 partially with snow, the travellers arrived at the 
 edge of an immense sheet of water, that seemed, 
 at the extreme distance, to mingle with the sky. 
 The remote mountains, at either side, appeared 
 completely inverted in the water, while those 
 nearer at hand looked in the majestic mirror as if 
 they were suspended between earth and heaven. 
 They afterwards learned that this was the cele- 
 brated lake of Abistadeh, in which are collected 
 all the waters that descend from the neighbour- 
 ing mountains, on the melting of the snows. As 
 they gazed with wonder upon the vast expanse 
 I 2
 
 172 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 before them, they beheld from time to time be- 
 tween the water and the azure canopy above, a 
 ruddy blush, which, had it not been noon, might 
 have been taken for the Aurora, stretching across 
 the horizon, occasionally flashing and disappear- 
 ing like the lightning playing over the mountain- 
 tops. As the cloud came nearer, it resolved 
 itself into an innumerable flock of flamingoes, 
 whose red feathers sometimes glittered in the 
 sun, and sometimes were hid again as they 
 waved their wings, or soared in their flight to- 
 wards Cashmere. 
 
 While Kazim and Mangeli were still ad- 
 miring the scenery that was spread before 
 them, a young man called out, from the 
 mouth of a cave at which he stood, inquiring 
 whether it was their intention to cross the lake. 
 Kazim replied, that he had missed the road to 
 Jellalabad, and asked if he could regain it by 
 embarking on the lake ? The ferryman replied 
 in the affirmative ; and unmooring his raft, com- 
 posed of timber supported on reeds, which had 
 been hitherto concealed behind a small pro- 
 montory, he assured the travellers that they 
 might expect, under his guidance, a perfectly
 
 NOURMAHAL. 173 
 
 safe passage both for themselves and their 
 horses. 
 
 The raft being directed into the current, 
 which flowed through the middle of the lake, 
 was speedily borne along to the opposite shore, 
 when Kazim, having rewarded the ferryman 
 for his trouble, proceeded to the town he had 
 mentioned. Hence they floated in a similar 
 manner down the river to Peshawer ; and cross- 
 ing the Indus at Attok, entered the kingdom 
 of Lahore. A few days' journey conducted the 
 travellers at length within view of the city of 
 that name, whose lofty towers and domes, shin- 
 ing in the distance, and surrounded by build- 
 ings extending over an immense space, realised 
 all the visions that had long haunted Kazim's 
 fancy, when he attempted to picture in his 
 mind the grandeur of the capital in which the 
 renowned Acbar then held his imperial court. 
 
 But although he had now arrived at the very 
 gates of the paradise, so long the object of his 
 thoughts and his dreams, Kazim ventured not 
 to express to Mangeli the feeling, bordering on 
 despair, that succeeded the momentary exulta- 
 tion with which he viewed the accomplishment 
 of his journey. His heart sunk within him.
 
 174 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 as he beheld the numerous groups of 
 peasantry, who were on their way to the 
 capital with the varied produce of their fields, 
 rice, indigo, opium, poultry, and a thou- 
 sand other articles ; or returning from the ba- 
 zaars, with the money or the manufactures 
 which they had received in exchange. ** These 
 people," he thought to himself, with a sense of 
 deep sadness, as he heard them discoursing 
 over their affairs, " have their friends at La- 
 hore, to whom they repair when they go 
 thither — they have their own cottages not far off; 
 but we enter the vast capital, without knowing 
 a single individual of the countless popula- 
 tion which it contains — without possessing the 
 means of judging where we are to find a home 
 — without kindred — without the hope even of 
 beholding a solitary countenance we had ever 
 seen before !" 
 
 These reflections became still more painful, 
 when, on entering the city, Kazim looked at 
 the apparently endless rows of houses, shops 
 and bazaars, all strange to his eye, containing 
 not a creature who expected his arrival, or 
 sympathised in his fortunes. Of the multitude 
 of foreign faces that thronged the streets, in
 
 NOURMAHAL. 175 
 
 all directions, to whom was he to look for that 
 patronage, without which he might eventually 
 perish ? It was true that the liberality of his 
 Ferghanese friends had supplied him with the 
 present means of support ; but when those 
 means were exhausted, as they soon must be, 
 in order to provide for the wants of an increas- 
 ing family, whither could he fly for assistance ? 
 He had staked his fortunes upon a single cast 
 of the dice ; but whether he lost or won, was a 
 question still undecided. 
 
 The travellers, happy to escape from the 
 tumult of the streets, which frightened Man- 
 geli excessively, rode into the yard of the first 
 caravanserai that could afford them accommo- 
 dation. Here they remained for some days, 
 until Kazim discovered a small house in the 
 suburbs, which he was enabled to hire at a 
 moderate expence. With Mangeli's experience 
 and assistance, their humble residence was 
 speedily supplied with the few articles of fur- 
 niture which their wants required. This done, 
 Kazim had no further occupation for his time 
 than wandering through the streets of Lahore, 
 and exploring the temples and other public 
 buildings, with which the capital abounded.
 
 176 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 One day, as he was standing in the court- 
 yard of the palace amongst a crowd of spec- 
 tators, gazing at a troop of cavalry, which 
 were going through some evolutions in pre- 
 sence of their commander, a group of officers, 
 with heron plumes waving in their caps, and 
 golden cuirasses on their breasts, rode rapidly 
 into the square, and stopping before the en- 
 trance into the palace formed a circle, as if 
 waiting to escort some person of distinction, 
 whom they expected from the palace. 
 
 In a few minutes a noble-looking figure, 
 descending the steps of the portico, entered the 
 circle, and mounting a caparisoned steed, which 
 an attendant held there by the rein, rode away, 
 followed by the officers, in the direction of the 
 gate of Agra. The individual thus splendidly 
 escorted, was himself dressed in plain attire, 
 an ordinary turban, and a frock of coarse cloth, 
 as if he were bound on a long journey. He 
 passed close to Kazim, who could hardly take 
 his eyes off that pale but intelligent face, from 
 the moment he beheld it. 
 
 " Who can that person be V asked Kazim, 
 addressing one of those who, like himself, were
 
 NOURMAHAL. 177 
 
 lounging in the square. His question was an- 
 swered by another : — 
 
 '^ What ! live you in Lahore, and not know 
 that he, of whom you speak, is the prime 
 minister, Abul Fazeel?" 
 
 '* Impossible !" said Kazim ; " I have cer- 
 tainly seen him before, but when or where, I 
 cannot at this moment recollect." 
 
 " Whether you have seen him or not, that 
 is Abul Fazeel, and no other," added the 
 lounger, turning upon his heel from a stranger 
 who could be worth no further notice, seeing 
 that he did not know even the face of the prime 
 minister. 
 
 A company of drummers, who came from the 
 interior of the palace, then taking their stations 
 at the foot of the portico, gave the signal, by a 
 treble peal, of the approach of the emperor ; 
 upon which the square was immediately or- 
 dered to be cleared. Kazim, whose curiosity 
 was excited to the highest degree, to behold 
 the hero of whom he had heard so much at 
 Samarcand, lingered behind the crowd as long 
 as he could. But the troopers forced them out 
 through the gates, striking the people, who all 
 seemed as curious as Kazim himself, with the 
 i5
 
 178 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 handles of their spears. Kazim received a se* 
 vere blow on his head, which almost stunned 
 him, as the gates were closed in his face. 
 
 This was no very favourable omen, he thought, 
 as he walked disheartened homeward, for one 
 w^ho had come hither in pursuit of public em- 
 ployment. There were, however, other occupa^ 
 tions to w^hich he hoped he might apply him- 
 self with advantage. The schools of Lahore 
 were probably not all supplied with masters of 
 poetry or rhetoric. He might tender them his 
 services as a lecturer in either of those branches 
 of education, or in mathematics, in which he 
 was equally skilful. But while he resolved 
 these projects in his mind, he could not dismiss 
 from his memory the countenance of the minis- 
 ter. It seemed to his thought sometimes, when 
 he questioned himself upon this point, as if he 
 must have lived in some former world, where 
 Fazeel had been of his most intimate and es- 
 teemed acquaintance. So perfectly familiar to 
 him were the lines of that fine forehead, and the 
 expression of those penetrating eyes> that he 
 had no doubt whatever of having seen them be- 
 fore, and that, too, under circumstances which 
 had left behind them feelings of the most favour-
 
 NOURMAHAL. ' 179 
 
 able description. But he vexed his memory in 
 vain to find out in it any traces of the prime 
 minister of Acbar; for although he had often 
 heard of the name of Abul Fazeel, it was cer- 
 tain that, so far as he knew, he had never had 
 the good fortune of meeting elsewhere with an 
 individual so superior to himself in every re- 
 spect.
 
 180 NOURMAHAL, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 What soft, yet awful, dignity ! 
 
 What meek, yet manly, grace ! 
 What sweetness dances in his eye, 
 
 And blossoms in his face. 
 
 Chijjese Poem. 
 
 Kazim postponed from day to day his applica- 
 tion for employment at any of the schools of 
 the capital, until at length, seeing his store of 
 wealth wearing gradually away, he found himself 
 compelled to make a vigorous effort for the 
 future maintenance of his family. He pro- 
 ceeded, therefore, in the first instance, to the 
 principal college, where the sons of several of 
 the omrahs, and other noblemen, were educated, 
 and stated his object, as well as his pretensions, 
 in the most modest manner. But every office to 
 which he aspired was already full ; and even if
 
 NOURMAHAL. 181 
 
 that had not been the case, he was told that his 
 pronunciation of the Persian was provincial, and 
 not sufficiently pure for the capital. 
 
 Undepressed by this disappointment, Kazim 
 next presented himself to the governor of another 
 college of the first rank, who looked upon him 
 as a great deal too young for the functions of a 
 master. When obliged to mention, in his own de- 
 fence, that he had passed through the university 
 of Samarcand, not without distinction, and that 
 he had perused most of the works which treated 
 of the sciences, history, philosophy, and poetry, 
 he was asked what books on divinity he had 
 read. He confessed that he had given but a 
 small portion of his time to that study, as very 
 few of the compositions that met his eye upon 
 that subject, seemed to him to discuss it in a 
 satisfactory manner. Unfortunately for Kazim, 
 the person whom he addressed had been a most 
 voluminous author in the theological line ; his 
 dismissal followed, of course, without being 
 softened by the slightest appearance of cere- 
 mony. 
 
 It was not without much difficulty, and many 
 pangs of wounded pride, that Kazim, after these 
 rebuffs from the higher academical establish-
 
 182 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 merits, made up his mind to offer himself to one 
 of the inferior grades, as a lecturer in the very 
 rudiments of learning. His only fear was, that 
 he should be too readily accepted, and thus 
 fixed for life in a subordinate rank, from which 
 he might never be promoted. But these, too, 
 he found crowded in every department. By 
 some his applications were treated with a cold 
 civility ; by others he was sneered at as a Tar- 
 tar, — one of the nation especially hated by the 
 Hindoos. When in the extremity of the misery 
 which he felt under such repeated failures, he 
 talked of his family, and threw out an intima- 
 tion of his apprehensions for their fate, if he 
 could meet with no employment, he was looked 
 upon as an intruder and an adventurer, without 
 connexions or character, and was more than 
 once advised to go back to the wilds whence he 
 came, for that there were too many already of 
 his class in Lahore ! 
 
 When returning to Mangeli on these oc- 
 casions, after walking about the capital the whole 
 day to no purpose, the agony of his mind was 
 overwhelming. The morning generally kindled 
 a faint ray of hope in his breast ; he knew not 
 but that before night he might at length sue-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 183 
 
 ceed in obtaining the object of his now humbled 
 wishes. But as the day advanced, and disap- 
 pointment followed disappointment, that feeble 
 light again vanished, leaving his mind in a state 
 of utter despair. His power of thought seemed 
 to have abandoned him sometimes altogether. 
 He leant against the corner of a street, and 
 pressing his hand to his forehead, gazed wildly 
 around him, as if he were in a dream, and knew 
 not where he was or whither he was going. 
 Often, overcome with fatigue, he could hardly 
 trail one foot after another, as night after night 
 he sought his home, with the same tale of mis- 
 fortune. The point of sight in the prospect of his 
 existence, which he thought he had found with 
 so much certainty, when first he bent his way 
 towards the Himalas, he now seemed to have 
 irrecoverably lost. All was a dreary waste be- 
 fore him : the only relief of which his soul was 
 susceptible, sprung from the unaltered affection 
 of Mangeli, and the smiles of delighted recog- 
 nition with which he was always received by the 
 cherub she held out to kiss him on his arrival. 
 
 As a last resort, Kazim procured a little ink- 
 stand, and a few reeds, and having hired a 
 stall in one of the principal streets, he sat there
 
 184 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 under an awning of coarse grass, and copied out 
 some of the poems which he had committed to 
 memory, and also a few of his own stanzas, the 
 compositions of happier days. These he was 
 enabled to sell for a few couries to students who 
 passed by his stall to the colleges. But when 
 he found that his poems were laughed at 
 by the critics of Lahore, by whom they were 
 designated, with an insulting ambiguity, as the 
 " beggar ballads," he ceased to offer any more 
 of his own compositions for sale, confining him- 
 self to those which he could collect from other 
 sources. His hand-writing, which was of the 
 most elegant description, gradually obtained for 
 him, however, more profitable employment 
 among the merchants who resorted to the neigh- 
 bouring bazaars, for whom he drew up accounts, 
 and letters on matters of business. The emolu- 
 ment which he thus earned was not much on 
 the whole, but it was something to a frugal 
 household ; it dissipated the dense gloom that 
 had for some time shrouded his intellect, and 
 opened once more a prospect, though a faint 
 one, of a favourable change in his fortune. 
 
 Sometimes, persons of the lowest order came 
 to the amanuensis, requesting that he would pre-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 185 
 
 pare petitions for them to the nobility and the 
 courts of justice; and it was remarked by a 
 muslin weaver, near whose shop his stall was 
 situated, that trifling as the pittance was which 
 he received from these people, he always lis- 
 tened to their instructions with cheerfulness, 
 and executed them with zeal. His own mis- 
 fortunes had touched his heart with sympathy 
 for the poor, whenever they solicited the aid of 
 his penmanship. Nor were the many private 
 histories of distress with which he had thus be- 
 come acquainted, during the seven long ^ears 
 he was obliged to dedicate to his new profes- 
 sion, vnthout their effect upon his feelings. He 
 learned from them, that however short of the 
 visions of youth his condition had fallen, it was 
 by no means at the lowest degree on the scale 
 of existence. 
 
 He was not rich, it was true; but then he 
 was free from the anxiety which riches always 
 bring, and especially from those imaginary suf- 
 ferings, worse than real woes, that haunt the 
 mind when it is disengaged from the pursuit of 
 the actual necessaries of life. He had not at- 
 tained any portion of that celebrity, or a single 
 step of that rank, amongst his fellow men, to
 
 186 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 which some years ago he had looked forward 
 with so much ardour. But celebrity created 
 envy, and rank only augmented ambition. 
 Better to remain in obscurity, than to be spoken 
 of and pointed at in the circles of the great as a 
 Tartar adventurer, on whom they would be de- 
 lighted to impose every kind of mortification. 
 He had few acquaintances and no friends ; but 
 he possessed a well stored mind, whose sphere 
 he extended according to his means, from day 
 to day, which rendered him independent of so- 
 ciety. In Mangeli, the light of his home, and 
 in his daughter, whom his neighbours familiarly 
 called Mher-ul-Nissa, " the sun of her sex,'* 
 from her remarkably graceful form and brilliant 
 countenance, shining already with more than 
 the beauty even of her mother, he had a fund of 
 happiness in itself more precious than the sceptre 
 of an empire. 
 
 One morning as Kazim was seated in his stall, 
 waiting for any customer who might wish to 
 employ his pen, a dervish addressed him, at the 
 same time producing an ancient manuscript, 
 which he said he wished to have copied as 
 speedily as possible, as he was to wait upon the 
 prime-minister, Abul Fazeel, with both the copy
 
 NOURMAHAL. 187 
 
 and the original, in a few days. The composi- 
 tion was of some length, and upon looking over 
 it, Kazim found that it related to the geography 
 of Bengal. 
 
 " You must be aware," said the dervish, " that 
 Abul Fazeel has only just returned to Lahore, 
 after an absence of several years, which he has 
 spent in travelling through the provinces of the 
 empire, with a view to ascertain and place on 
 record the nature of the soil, the produce, the 
 climate, the manufactures, and the population, 
 by which they are individually distinguished. 
 From the continuation of the civil war which 
 prevails in Bengal, he has not been able to tra- 
 verse that magnificent region. Here is a full and 
 a very accurate survey of that country, made a 
 century ago, by a learned Arabian ; it is, how- 
 ever, much soiled, and I fear, in some parts, 
 illegible. Copy it in the best manner you can, 
 and here will be your reward," putting into 
 Kazim's hand a gold rupee. 
 
 In a few days the copy was complete, and 
 the dervish took it away, thanking Kazim for the 
 elegance and accuracy with which the transcript 
 was executed. On presenting the original roll 
 to Fazeel, the dervish also unfolded the copy be-
 
 188 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 fore the minister, which he looked over for some 
 time, with the most intense interest. 
 
 *' This is, indeed," said the minister, '* a most 
 valuable document — a master-piece in every re- 
 spect. The details are clear, and sufficiently 
 ample for my purpose. But this hand-writing I 
 have seen before — it must be that of a young 
 man in whose fortunes I once felt a lively in- 
 terest, but of whom I have never heard since 
 that fatal expedition to " 
 
 Here Fazeel checked himself, as if he felt 
 that he had already gone farther than he in- 
 tended. 
 
 " To Arjun," added the dervish. " I was 
 there too; you have heard Acbar, doubtless, 
 speak of a poor dervish, who resided in the 
 garden hut near Karaman " 
 
 " And saved his Hfe ! — and ours ! Excellent 
 man — we never can sufficiently thank you! — 
 You must come with me to the emperor." 
 
 " No — my habit would ill befit the court of 
 Acbar. Protect Kazim Ayas — I seek no fur- 
 ther reward." 
 
 "Ah! this is indeed his hand. Bring the 
 young man to me instantly. The emperor will,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 189 
 
 I am sure, be delighted to advance the fortunes 
 of our former companion in adversity." 
 
 The dervish returned without delay to the stall, 
 where he found Kazim, as usual, industriously 
 employed. 
 
 " I bear good tidings, young man," said he, 
 his features glistening with heartfelt pleasure; — 
 " Shut up your stall, and come with me just as 
 you are." 
 
 Kazim, trembling with joy, did as he was 
 desired, and as they proceeded to the palace the 
 words, " To Hindostan, I say, when the snows 
 are gone !" which he had for some time forgot- 
 ten as a mere delusion of the fancy, now re- 
 turned to his memory in a flood of light. Were 
 they, then, the whisper of a vision, or was this 
 the dervish who pronounced them ? 
 
 On arriving at the palace, his companion, 
 who in a decided, though friendly tone, stipu- 
 lated that no enquiries should be made, as to 
 himself, led Kazim into a spacious gallery that 
 overlooked the royal gardens. As there was a 
 crowd of courtiers waiting to see the minister, 
 the dervish directed Kazim's attention, while 
 they were waiting for their turn to be called, to 
 the stately trees and fountains with which the
 
 190 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 gardens were ornamented. Presently the sound 
 of a musquet, and the smoke with which the 
 explosion was accompanied, at the lower end of 
 the gardens, excited Kazim's surprise. He had 
 never seen arms of that description before. The 
 dervish explained the nature of the instru- 
 ment, while the sounds were again and again 
 repeated, each explosion being followed by a 
 shout of laughter from a group of young men, 
 who appeared to be amusing themselves by 
 firing at a target. 
 
 " It is a favourite sport of the prince Selim," 
 said the dervish. — " See — here he comes, with 
 his companions." 
 
 " What a very handsome person," observed 
 Kazim ; " I should at once have known him for 
 a prince !" 
 
 " Handsome he undoubtedly is," rejoined the 
 dervish; "rather too much so for the heir of 
 such an extensive empire, which will demand 
 more vigour, both of mind and limb, than I fear 
 he will ever exhibit." 
 
 While the dervish was still speaking, the 
 prince and his friends ascended from the gardens 
 by the marble steps which led to the gallery. 
 
 " It is said," whispered the dervish to Kazim,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 191 
 
 after they passed, '* that the prince is already 
 well acquainted with the fascinations of the 
 wine-cup ; nevertheless, although he is nearly 
 thirty years of age, he does not, as you see, 
 look five-and -twenty." 
 
 The crowds, in the ante-rooms, having at 
 length sensibly diminished, the dervish and Ka- 
 zim were directed to attend the minister. They 
 found him in a splendidly decorated apart- 
 ment, seated on a divan, with a large bundle of 
 papers in his hand, from which he raised his 
 eyes but for a moment, while he glanced at 
 Kazim. 
 
 " Shew that young man," said the minister 
 to an attendant, " into my writing room, and 
 give him these papers, which he must set about 
 copying instantly.*' 
 
 Kazim was too much abashed by the novelty 
 of his situation, to notice the features of the 
 minister — though it struck him that the voice 
 which he had just heard, was not altogether 
 strange to his ear. The dervish, pressing his 
 hand warmly, resigned him to the care of the 
 attendant, by whom he was conducted to an 
 inner apartment, the floor of which was covered 
 with papers, scattered about in all directions.
 
 192 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 A spot having been cleared for his use, and 
 writing implements having been placed before 
 him, he was left alone to pursue the labours 
 which had been assigned him. 
 
 The minister again addressed the good der- 
 vish, and entreated him to remain until the 
 emperor, who was then at mid-day meal, should 
 be disengaged. But, he said, that having at 
 length succeeded in ])lacing in the career of 
 fame and fortune, one that would prove emi- 
 nently worthy of both, he could not postpone 
 his departure for Cashmere, whither he was 
 bound on a pilgrimage. Fazeel could not even 
 persuade him to accept an onyx ring, which he 
 took off his finger, and receiving the blessing of 
 the holy man, suffered him, with the greatest 
 reluctance, to set out upon his journey. 
 
 Kazim scarcely knew how many hours he 
 had been in his new office, when his attention 
 was interrupted by the sound of steps. Im- 
 mediately a door behind him, which he had 
 not before perceived, opened, and Fazeel, with 
 another person, clothed in a woven dress of 
 silk and gold, bound at the waist by a zone of 
 diamonds and rubies, stood before Kazim, 
 smihng, as if they were amused by the attitude
 
 NOURMAHAL. 193 
 
 of astonishment which he naturally assumed. 
 He rose/ on his feet, looked first at one, then at 
 the other, while the reed with which he had 
 been writing fell from his hand, unnoticed on 
 the floor, and his face was mantled in blushes. 
 
 " It must be Suleiman and Baba Seirami/* 
 at length exclaimed Kazim. 
 
 " Whom you now behold as Acbar and his 
 minister Abul Fazeel," said the emperor, em- 
 bracing the young man with tokens of the 
 most lively pleasure. Kazim would have made 
 his obeisance in the ordinary form, but this 
 Acbar would not permit. 
 
 " No — no, no ceremony to-day. We are 
 both extremely happy, to find that you have at 
 last made your way to Hindostan, where you 
 may count upon my invariable friendship." 
 
 " And Mangeli, too," said Fazeel ; ^' has she 
 also come with you ? Doubtless as beautiful 
 as ever !" 
 
 Kazim, overcome with emotion, knew scarcely 
 how to reply to the numerous questions which 
 the emperor and the ndinister then put to him 
 rapidly one after another. He made no secret 
 of any part of his story, disclosing the leading 
 circumstances of his hfe, as they had occurred 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 since he had last seen them. Acbar kindly ex- 
 pressed his concern, that Kazim had not availed 
 himself of the instructions, especially addressed 
 to him in the letter which Fazeel had sent 
 from Karaman. Kazim, in explanation, re- 
 plied, that the letter duly reached the camp, 
 but that as it had been unfortunately worn 
 into fragments, he was prevented from becom- 
 ing acquainted with the emperor's generous in- 
 tentions in his behalf. 
 
 *' Well ! well V observed the sovereign, '' we 
 must now endeavour to repair the time you 
 have lost. Fazeel will appoint you one of his 
 principal secretaries, and I hope often to see 
 you, that we may talk over our adventures in 
 Arjun." 
 
 " With respect to which, however," added 
 Fazeel, as Acbar retired by the door at which 
 he had entered, " it will be necessary for you 
 to be silent to all other persons. That expedi- 
 tion was, as you know, a most unfortunate affair 
 in every respect; one of those sudden and irresist- 
 ible resolutions, which the emperor's extraordin- 
 ary genius for war sometimes acts upon, without 
 the requisite deliberation. He had nearly lost 
 Hindostan, while endeavouring by rapid move-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 ments and surprises, to break up a confederacy 
 that had been preparing in the north, the object 
 of which was to pour down troops into the then 
 rebellious provinces of Cashmere and Lahore. 
 The adoption of the name of Suleiman, who was 
 actually one of the chieftains engaged in the 
 conspiracy, was one of those stratagems which 
 have sometimes served him successfully in lieu 
 of an army, although upon that occasion we 
 were indeed any thing but fortunate. It was 
 well that we were enabled even to make good 
 our escape to Lahore, where, however, order 
 has since been in a great measure restored." 
 
 Kazim listened to Fazeel with the deepest 
 interest, rejoicing inwardly in the delight which 
 he should feel in imparting to Mangeii the 
 sudden alteration that had taken place in their 
 fortunes. 
 
 k2
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 But soft ! — what heavenly shape appears, 
 Shedding pale lustre like the nioon 1 
 
 Some angel's form the vision wears ; 
 
 Sweet maid ! that angel form's thj own. 
 
 Sadi. 
 
 The papers wJiich Fazeel intrusted to Kazim, 
 for the purpose of being duly arranged and 
 copied, were necessarily of great extent, as they 
 embraced copious reports upon the actual con- 
 dition of almost every one of the twenty-two 
 provinces, then composing the empire of India. 
 It became the business of the new secretary, 
 not only to transcribe the voluminous mass with 
 his own hand, but to digest it in a methodical 
 order, to divide it into sections, and render the 
 whole easily accessible by a summary of his
 
 NOURMAHAL. 197 
 
 own, which would enable the minister to refer 
 at once to any passages it might be necessary 
 for him to peruse in detail. The duty was one 
 that employed Kazim very closely for three 
 or four years ; it enabled him to become per- 
 fectly acquainted with the whole resources of 
 Acbar's dominions. 
 
 The accurate knowledge which Kazim thus 
 acquired, with reference to the state of the 
 provinces, he had great facility in making 
 available, whenever he was consulted upon 
 the numerous memorials and reports peri- 
 odically sent up from those districts to La- 
 hore. No decrees were issued, with respect to 
 the grievances or difficulties of which they com- 
 plained, without the co-operation of Kazim, who 
 usually prepared the first draughts of the ne- 
 cessary ordinances for the minister. Thus he 
 proceeded, step by step, to render his abilities 
 and varied information eminently useful in the 
 most important department of government. His 
 suggestions were uniformly remarkable for their 
 good sense, their humanity, and, above all, 
 their tendency towards the establishment of the 
 administration of justice upon a basis at once 
 pure and economical.
 
 198 NOUBMAHAL. 
 
 Although the fortunes of Kazim were now so 
 vastly improved, as compared with that portion 
 of his life which he had spent in his stall, 
 he never forgot those who employed him at 
 that time. Many he advanced to offices, that 
 enabled them to acquire a decent competency ; 
 to others he gave occupation upon estates, be- 
 stowed upon him by the emperor; while, for 
 those who were of a military disposition, he 
 obtained appointments in the armies, kept up 
 by Acbar on a scale requisite to meet the 
 numerous insurrections that almost continu- 
 ally broke out in one quarter or another of 
 India. 
 
 When the emperor removed his court to 
 Agra, which he named as the metropolis of 
 his empire, he, at the same time, consti- 
 tuted Kazim his high treasurer, and assigned 
 him a splendid residence at a short distance 
 from the palace, on the banks of the Jumna. 
 The appointment gave great satisfaction to the 
 people, amongst whom the new minister was 
 universally beloved for his inflexible impar- 
 tiality ; his entire freedom from that taint of 
 corruption which had hitherto sullied many of 
 the most important public stations ; and espe-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 199 
 
 cially for that modest and engaging demeanour, 
 which he still preserved unchanged from what 
 it was before his elevation. The power he 
 thus derived, from one of the first dignities 
 the sovereign could bestow, afforded him op- 
 portunities of which he fully availed himself, 
 in order to advance the interests of science, 
 literature, and the fine arts. He invited to 
 Ao;ra those men w^ho had most distino;uished 
 themselves throughout the country for their in- 
 tellectual accomplishments, and their skill in 
 architecture, sculpture, painting, and music. 
 His house was the resort, not only of the chief 
 officers attached to the court, but also of poets, 
 historians, and eminent men of every class, to 
 whom he felt it a sacred duty to show the most 
 cordial marks of his attention. 
 
 It was wonderful with what eagerness the 
 manuscripts, which Kazim had written in his 
 stall, were now bought up on every side. 
 The " Beggar Ballads," which had formerly 
 drawn down the ridicule of the critics of Lahore, 
 were henceforth looked upon as so many gems, 
 for which precious stones of enormous price 
 were gladly exchanged, by those who wished to 
 pay their court to the minister. He, who well
 
 200 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 knew the value of his own productions, and was 
 conscious that whatever his faculties were for 
 the cultivation of science and philosophy, they 
 were never destined to shine in the temple of 
 the muses, accepted all the incense of these 
 panegyrists for just as much as it was worth. 
 It did not prevent him from rewarding real 
 merit, even where he found it accompanied by 
 such fulsome adulation; but, on the other hand, 
 he listened with silent indifference to the com- 
 pliments of those who hoped that mere flattery 
 would compensate for their want of worth. The 
 incidents of his life were made themes of eulogy 
 and emulation in the very schools which had 
 shut their doors upon him at Lahore ; and the 
 origin of the " adventurer," as he was called 
 some years ago, was now traced back to the 
 same sources which had given the reigning 
 dynasty to Hindostan ! 
 
 Kazim would have been more or less than 
 man, if his breast were wholly free from emotions 
 of just pride, when he, who on his first arrival 
 in that country, scarcely knew where he might 
 rest his head, now beheld his halls thronged 
 with guests of the most elevated rank, includ- 
 ing, occasionally, the Emperor, often the Prince
 
 NOURMAHAL. 201 
 
 Selim, the Omrahs, the governors of the pro- 
 vinces, the principal warriors, and the heads of 
 every department of the government. Never- 
 theless, he confessed to Mangeli, and she knew 
 his acknowledgment to be true, that his hap- 
 piest moments were those which he spent in 
 his private cabinet, assisting in the education of 
 their beloved daughter, upon whose growing 
 charms they gazed with new delight, from day 
 to day. 
 
 The figure of Mher-Ul^Nissa, which, from 
 its earliest developement, seemed to have been 
 chiselled by the hand of the statuary, as- 
 sumed a more radiant loveliness, as she ap- 
 proached the years of maturity. Her hair, of a 
 light golden hue, hung to the knee, when she 
 untied the fillet that held it together. Her 
 liquid blue eyes, if fired by no emotion, shone 
 serenely, like the full orb of the moon, through 
 the long dark lashes by which they were sur- 
 rounded. But the lightest smile animated their 
 lustre, diffusing over her finely pencilled brows a 
 beguiling expression, in which, however, playful- 
 ness was always mingled with a peculiar dignity. 
 An oval cheek, with a scarcely perceptible 
 shade of brown, which became ruby with every 
 K 5
 
 202 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 strong impulse of her mind, a mouth exquisitely 
 formed, a bosom that seemed to contain two 
 white rose-buds of Cashmere, just before they 
 begin to blow, and delicately tapered limbs 
 that awakened life and light around them 
 wherever they moved, gave matchless splen- 
 dour to her beauty. 
 
 Her varied accomplishments were in every 
 way worthy of the external graces with which 
 shfe was -endowed. The arts of embroidery and 
 painting, for which she evinced an early predi- 
 lection, afforded an elegant occupation to the 
 hours not absorbed in more intellectual pursuits. 
 She inherited her father's taste for fine litera- 
 ture ; and was intimately conversant with the 
 best productions of Persia and Arabia. She 
 was initiated in the science of music by the 
 first masters, whose lessons she improved into 
 inspirations, by the inventive powers which she 
 exhibited, whenever she touched the mandolin 
 or lute. Her voice was remarkable for its 
 melody, but still more so for the enthusiastic 
 tones which it sometimes poured forth, as if 
 her soul, borne away by a sudden flood of feel- 
 ing, emulated the strains of some world superior 
 to her own. When she danced, she looked an
 
 NOURMAHAL. 203 
 
 aerial being, as she moved over the floor, which 
 she scarcely seemed to touch. To these ac- 
 complishments she added a point of character 
 more endearing than them all, a passionate at- 
 tachment to those excellent parents, to whose 
 aflfection she was in a great measure indebted 
 for the enviable blessings she enjoyed. 
 
 Kazim, with difficulty, restrained himself 
 from giving expression to the pleasure which he 
 experienced on every occasion, when Mher-ul- 
 Nissa, preceded by Mangeli, and followed by 
 her Circassian attendants, appeared before his 
 guests. As the imperial court never adhered to 
 the strict rules of the Koran, which prohibit 
 women from mingling in the company of men, 
 it was usual to introduce the ladies into the 
 banqueting-room as soon as the wine, which 
 also refused at Agra to acknowledge the law of 
 the prophet, was succeeded by coffee. Upon 
 such occasions, however, the ladies were uni- 
 formly veiled, unless the circle of visitors con- 
 sisted exclusively of near relatives, or very inti- 
 mate friends. It may be doubled whether that 
 appendage to the dress did not tend rather t 
 increase the curiosity and heighten the admira- 
 tion of the guest, when he beheld through it the
 
 204 NOURMAHAE. 
 
 blush of the cheek and the sparkle of the eye, 
 little, if at all, dimmed by the gossamer cloud 
 behind which they were supposed to be con- 
 cealed. Certain it is, that Kazim seldom gave 
 a banquet which was not followed the next day 
 by boundless compliments upon the beauty of 
 his daughter, and by earnest enquiries as to the 
 name of the fortunate nobleman for whom she 
 was destined. These questions, sometimes 
 thrown out in an indirect manner, sometimes 
 pointed in a way difficult to be encountered, he 
 generally succeeded in evading on the ground 
 of her youth, and her being his only child. But 
 the time was already approaching when he 
 found that it would become his duty, however 
 reluctantly, to make up his mind on a matter .so 
 essentially connected with the happiness of her 
 future life. 
 
 Amongst those of his guests whom Kazim, 
 from the commencement of their acquaintance, 
 admitted to his bosom friendship, was Shere 
 Afkun, a Turcomanian chieftain, who was also 
 held in great esteem by the emperor. His ori- 
 ginal name was Asta Jillo ; but having, by his 
 great personal strength, in which he was alto- 
 gether unrivalled, slain a lion, after a severe
 
 NOURMAHAL. 4205 
 
 contest with the animal, he was thenceforth 
 designated Shere Afkun, or the overthrovver of 
 the Hon, from that circumstance. He had 
 already distinguished himself by the side of 
 his imperial master, in many a hard-fought 
 field. His fidehty had been tried more than 
 once, by the most brilliant offers on the part 
 of those discontented noblemen, who treated 
 Acbar as an usurper, and did every thing in 
 their power to foment insurrection throughout 
 the empire. Not only wealth without hmit, but 
 the sceptre of Hindostan was suggested as a 
 temptation to the ambition of Afkun, if he 
 would desert the standard to which he had 
 sworn allegiance. His ancestors, however, had 
 always been attached to the Mogul dynasty ; 
 he had pledged himself to it by the " great 
 oath," and as he was a man of a truly upright 
 mind and unblemished honour, who would 
 sooner give up his life than violate a promise, 
 he spumed all these seductions with a proud 
 indignation, which created for him, in the re- 
 bellious provinces^ numerous enemies. 
 
 But to their hostility Afkun paid little re- 
 gard. Firm in his own purity of feeling, ele- 
 vated by the noblest sentiments, far above the
 
 206 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 sordid crowd, who were shaken in their .alle- 
 giance by every rumour of civil war with which 
 the capital was inundated, and marked out by 
 the well-merited favour of Acbar, as one of the 
 principal officers of the empire, he pursued the 
 path of his duty with a steadiness of determina- 
 tion, that proved the sincerity of his character. 
 He was a remarkably fine looking young man, 
 frank and engaging in his manners, and of con- 
 siderable intelligence, considering that from 
 the moment he was able to wield a sabre, his 
 life had been chiefly spent in camps. During 
 the few hours which Kazim had the opportunity 
 of devoting to out-door recreation, Afkun was 
 generally his companion. They rode together 
 into the country, or walked in the gardens be- 
 hind Kazim's residence, conversing, without 
 reserve on either side, upon affairs of state, or 
 upon subjects of a rehgious or philosophical 
 kind, for which Afkun, unlike most of his 
 countrymen, had a decided turn. 
 
 Sometimes it happened, that in the course of 
 their walks in those charming retreats, they 
 would observe Mangeli and Mher-ul-Nissa 
 watering a flower-bed, or gathering fruit, or 
 working at embroidery, beneath the shade of a
 
 NOURMAHAL. 207 
 
 JTavourite plane-tree. Kazim was always de- 
 lighted to join the two dearest objects of his af- 
 fection, and he felt no disposition to prevent Af- 
 kun from following his example. The presence 
 of the young Turcomanian necessarily imposed 
 some restraint upon the demeanour of Mher-^ 
 ul-]Vissa. Her eyes were then fixed with more 
 than usual earnestness upon her tambour frame ; 
 her fin2:ers seemed to be animated with more 
 than their ordinary grace, while they were ra- 
 pidly strewing roses wherever her fancy directed. 
 If those eyes sometimes glanced at the chieftain 
 when he addressed his conversation to her 
 mother, it was an accidental circumstance — the 
 result of natural curiosity, to ascertain what the 
 stranger looked like. But when it happened 
 that once or twice they directly flashed against 
 his own, and the conflict heightened the blush 
 of health upon her cheek, and unaccountably 
 impeded the current of his speech, he began to 
 think that he would prefer the shade in which 
 he sat, even to the unearthly bowers promised 
 by the founder of his religion. 
 
 Mangeli was the first to warn Kazim of the 
 consequences of these visits, unless he had 
 already determined on the line of conduct
 
 208 ^"OURMAHAL. 
 
 which he should adopt, m case Afkun should 
 demand the hand of his daughter. There was 
 nothing in such a connexion to which either 
 parent could discover any objection. On the 
 contrary, should the matter turn out in that 
 way, they were fully disposed to believe that it 
 could only result in the happiness of both 
 parties. The Turcomanian was a nobleman of 
 distinguished birth, and ample possessions ; he 
 was deservedly esteemed by the emperor, who 
 •had signified his intention of appointing Afkun 
 to the government of the first province which 
 should become vacant. Mher-Ul-Nissa was in 
 every respect suited to the exalted station to 
 which such a union would raise her, and although 
 there w'ere those who whispered into her ear, 
 that she might, if she were ambitious, look forr 
 ward to a rank still higher — the first in the 
 empire, when Selim should succeed to the 
 throne ; nevertheless the thoughtful parents per- 
 fectly agreed that that was a wild dream, which 
 she ought not to entertain for a moment, and 
 which, if it could be realized, would lead only to 
 her unhappiness, perhaps her ruin. 
 
 When the maid was questioned playfully by 
 her mother, as to the attentions of the prince
 
 NOURMAHAL. 209 
 
 Selim, which rumour had already invented or 
 exaggerated, she could really find nothing in 
 them. They were no more than he had paid to 
 a thousand others. When, after dining with 
 Kazim, he was heated with wine, it appeared 
 that he always waited to see the ladies, and 
 fixed his eyes incessantly on Mher-Ul-Nissa, to 
 whom he had once presented a bouquet of 
 variegated flowers, which, translated into lan- 
 guage, imported that he was her slave, or some- 
 thing to that effect. But it was well known 
 that his attachments were as transitory as they 
 were violent, and that, although his station al- 
 lowed him already to have several wives, he 
 seemed to treat them all with equal indifference. 
 It was scarcely to be expected, that the heir 
 apparent of the empire of Hindostan could ever 
 fix his affections upon a single object, and that 
 was in itself an objection with Mher-Ul-Nissa, 
 as well as with Mangeli, of an irremovable 
 character. 
 
 Perhaps if the secret wishes of the daughter 
 were revealed to the mother, it might have been 
 discovered that the former had been more flat- 
 tered by the bouquet presented to her by Selim, 
 than she chose to acknowledge even to herself.
 
 210 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 It was the first gift of the kind she had ever 
 received ; it was the earUest token of homage 
 from the lordly sex, that had been laid at her 
 feet. If, in the visions that then began to in- 
 terrupt the sweet sleep to which she had been 
 previously accustomed, the image of the prince 
 more than once appeared, — inviting her to sit 
 beside him on the throne of the most splen- 
 did empire in the world, — it was still no more 
 than a delusion of the night, though it left a 
 feverish train of thought behind it, that too often 
 recurred to her during the gentle occupations 
 of the succeeding day.
 
 KOURMAHAL. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A viewless bow directs the dart ; 
 
 I feel, vet know not whence the smart. 
 Xo outward scar to sight reveals 
 
 Poi 
 
 The death of the subah of Cashmere at length 
 enabled Acbar to confer upon Afkun the com- 
 mand of that important province. The moment 
 the chieftain received his nomination, he said 
 that he had another favour to ask from his 
 sovereign, which, if it were granted, would 
 render his felicity indeed complete. He then 
 mentioned the feehngs which he entertained 
 towards the daughter of his majesty's high 
 treasurer, and entreated the exertion of Acbar's 
 influence in that quarter, which could hardly 
 fail to be successful. The emperor readily ac-
 
 212 KOURMAHAL. 
 
 ceded to the solicitations of Afkun, and sent 
 for Kazim, to whom he opened the subject, as 
 one deserving immediate consideration. It was 
 not, of course, proposed, he said, that any extra- 
 ordinary expedition should be adopted, with re- 
 ference to the union of the parties ; the more 
 especially as the unquiet state of Cashmere de- 
 manded the presence of the new governor there 
 without delay. But if no previous engagement 
 or difficulty interposed, the preliminary cere- 
 monies of betrothing might take place, before the 
 departure of Afkun. Kazim frankly confessed 
 that the proposition afforded him the highest 
 gratification, as it was well known that he had 
 long entertained towards that young nobleman 
 the most unaffected esteem. But he hoped that, 
 however unusual it was in Hindostan to consult 
 the party who was, perhaps, the most interested 
 on such an occasion, he might be permitted to 
 refer Afkun to Mher-Ul-Nissa herself, for an 
 answer. In the mean time, he proceeded to com- 
 municate to his family the results of his inter- 
 view with the emperor. 
 
 The intelligence which her father brought, 
 fell upon the ear of Mher-Ul-Nissa like a thun- 
 derbolt. It had never occurred to her before
 
 NOURMAHAL. 213 
 
 that at any time of her hfe she should be under 
 the necessity of abandoning her paternal home. 
 In the first emotions of her breast, she clasped 
 her arms round her mother, and wept upon her 
 bosom, as if the greatest calamity that could 
 happen had befallen her, on that fatal morning. 
 The thoughts of becoming the wife of Afkun, 
 — of removing with him to the distant province of 
 Cashmere, — of being exiled from her parents, — 
 from Agra, whose splendour had powerful fas- 
 cinations for her mind, habituated as she had 
 been to the luxuries of that metropolis, — and 
 (perhaps, above all) the extinction of that small 
 ray of hope, which she cultivated with a fond 
 devotion in secret, derived from the bouquet of 
 the prince ! — threw her into a state of depression 
 and grief, little suited to an occasion that re- 
 quired from her feelings of a very different de- 
 scription. 
 
 Nothing could have been more remote from 
 Kazim's intentions, than a pressure of the 
 slightest possible degree upon the wishes of his 
 daughter. He fancied that he had, more than 
 once, observed an expression of no ordinary 
 pleasure in her countenance, whenever he an- 
 nounced that Afkun was to share their private
 
 214 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 family dinner. Neither could she deny, that 
 the young Turcomanian had often walked with 
 her alone in the garden ; that she played on her 
 lute, and sang for him ; and that she listened 
 with a lively attention to the description which 
 he gave her of the peculiar customs of his 
 country, and of the battles in which he had been 
 eno'aoed. But when she was reminded of all 
 these indications of a favourable feeling on her 
 part, as well as of the many circumstances 
 which, on his side, also gave proof of the de- 
 cided preference he entertained for her society, 
 she replied that there was nothing in all that of 
 the kind of sacred feeling which ought to bind 
 two hearts together, — that feeling, for instance, 
 which she beheld exemplified in the daily inter- 
 course of her beloved parents. She was told, 
 indeed, that such a sentiment as that, identify- 
 ing two persons so completely as to cause every 
 thought and hope to flow in the same channel, 
 could only be the result of years. But she 
 could not be persuaded that there was not some 
 ardent and overwhelming impulse of the heart, 
 which made up for the want of time, and con- 
 verted a moment of genuine emotion into an 
 eternity of love. She had read of such a pas-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 215 
 
 sion in the verses of Binai, who sang them to 
 his own enchanting music. The poet Ahili, 
 also, though he could neither read nor write, 
 had well expressed what she meant. 
 
 Kazim looked upon his daughter with deep 
 anxiety, while she spoke in this style, of feel- 
 ings which he supposed she had hardly as yet 
 known from experience. But the emphasis of 
 her expressions — the rapture that glowed in her 
 countenance, while she opened her heart thus 
 innocently to her parent, excited in his mind 
 a strong apprehension that Mher-Ul-Nissa 
 had already engaged her affections to another. 
 She assured him, however, that such was by no 
 means the case, and that she only repeated 
 what she had read in the compositions he had 
 himself placed before her. As a decisive proof 
 of her sincerity upon this point, she said that 
 she had no objection whatever to receive Afkun, 
 whom she much esteemed ; but whether or not 
 she could ever know any higher feeling in his 
 regard, would entirely depend on circumstances. 
 Kazim kissed his daughter for her compliance 
 with his desire, that, at all events, the advances 
 of his young friend should be treated with the 
 utmost delicacy and respect.
 
 216 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 Afkun, rejoicing in the permission that was 
 accorded to him, presented himself the next 
 morning to Mangeli, who told him that he 
 would find her daughter feeding a whole tribe 
 of gazelles in the garden. The chieftain, to 
 whom fear had never been known, trembled 
 from head to foot, as he proceeded towards 
 the spot where the animals were assembled. 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa, who had not expected him 
 so soon, was occupied in examining the foot of 
 one of her favourites, which had been lamed for 
 some time. The beautiful eyes of the gazelle 
 were looking into hers, as if to express all the 
 gratitude which it felt for her attentions, while 
 she spoke to it in that soft tone of affection, 
 which falls upon a lover's heart, like the gentle 
 rain from heaven on the flowers, in the season of 
 their opening. 
 
 " Go your way, Hilali ; you will soon be well 
 now. Your pretty foot is almost as strong as 
 ever. But mind, you must not scramble up the 
 trees, and then leap down again upon the earth, 
 as you did when you nearly killed yourself the 
 other day. Go your way, Hilali; and now, 
 where is my gay Pezu?" asked Mher-Ul- 
 Nissa, turning round, when the whole troop, to
 
 NOURMAHAL. 217 
 
 her surprise, scampered away to the lower part 
 of the garden. 
 
 " I fear I have disturbed your gazelles, 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa," said Afkun, approaching 
 her. 
 
 " They are very wild and shy of strangers." 
 
 " They are the most beautiful animals of the 
 kind I have seen ; they must be happy too, 
 since they are the objects of your care.'' 
 
 " I hope they know what happiness is; grate- 
 ful I am sure they are for the little attention I 
 have been able to show them." 
 
 " They must have intelligence and affection, 
 if we believe the eloquence of their eyes, and all 
 that the poets have sung in their praise." 
 
 ''At all events they cannot deceive; they 
 know not how to flatter." 
 
 " Those are the acts of courtiers, Mher-Ul- 
 Nissa ; you will soon find that out, if you re- 
 main much longer in Agra." 
 
 " Those wild gazelles ! they will trample 
 down all my flowers. Hilali ! Hilali ! come 
 hither; as usual, you are the leader in every 
 kind of mischief!" 
 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa, while she thus called to 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 the animals, which were frisking about among 
 her yellow roses like mad creatures, hastened 
 along an avenue of palms, accompanied by 
 Afkun, who assisted her to collect the gazelles 
 together, until a slave approaching, relieved 
 them from further anxiety, by calling the flock 
 away. 
 
 " The emperor," resumed Afkun, leading his 
 fair companion to a green bank, on which he 
 entreated her to sit down ; " has honoured me, 
 as perhaps you may have already heard, by 
 giving me the vice-royalty of Cashmere." 
 
 "An honoumble appointment; I congi-atulate 
 you sincerely." 
 
 " As new disturbances have broken out, 
 which demand my presence there, I am ordered 
 to quit Agra to-morrow." 
 
 " So soon!" 
 
 " Such are the emperor's commands ; I shall 
 leave the capital with regret ; I did hope that 
 my duties might have permitted me to enjoy 
 the society of your family somewhat longer. 
 The attentions which I have uniformly received, 
 I may say from every member of it, shall ever 
 hold a place in my heart."
 
 NOURMAHAL 219 
 
 " My father will miss you in his rides, and 
 in those evening walks which you used so often 
 to take together in these groves." 
 
 " Ah I that you would say as much, Mher- 
 Ul-Nissa, for another, whose kind remembrance 
 of me occasionally would be still more valuable 
 in my eyes." 
 
 " Doubtless, we shall all think of one whom 
 my father so much esteems." 
 
 " I thank you, from my soul, for these 
 words ; I know not the man who is so much to 
 be envied as Kazim Ayas ! What a happiness, 
 above all price, for him, occupied as he is 
 during the greater portion of his time, in 
 matters of the highest importance, to be able to 
 fly from the cares of state, as I have often seen 
 him do, to these delightful shades ; certain of 
 meeting in his family those genial affections 
 which at once relax the mind, and attemper it 
 for the renewal of its noblest efforts ! " 
 
 '* He deserves every thing from us!" said 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa, her affection melting as she 
 spoke, into tears, which stood suspended on her 
 cheeks like pearls of dew on the rose. 
 
 " Would that I were enabled to look forward 
 l2
 
 220 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 to felicity such as his !" added Afkun, taking 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa's hand, which she did not draw- 
 away. " You must forgive me, but I find it 
 impossible to set out from Agra without con- 
 fessing the spell that is on my heart. Could I 
 have been so often seated by you, listening to 
 j^our voice — your mandolin — and have observed 
 the affectionate attentions which you shew, 
 upon all occasions, to your admirable parents, 
 without feeling a desire, that you were to me 
 as Mangeli is to Kazim Ayas V 
 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa was silent. The tears, which 
 she now endeavoured to hide, still coursed each 
 other down her cheek, as if the source whence 
 they flowed were never to be exhausted. Afkun, 
 following her averted eyes, found her gazing on 
 a lily-of-the-valley, which she had taken from 
 her bosom. It was one of the symbols which 
 composed the bouquet of Selim ! 
 
 *• May I wear it?" asked Afkun, endeavour- 
 ing to snatch the flower. " May I wear it as a 
 token of you?" 
 
 " Not that, not that — I love it too much — I 
 mean I cannot part with it ; it was the first gift 
 I have ever received."
 
 NOURMAHAL. 221 
 
 *' Which would have made me value it 
 the more ! Oh ! Mher-Ul-Nissa, you know 
 not how passionately I love you. I could 
 not have refused you an empire, had it been 
 at my command — and you refuse me a 
 flower !" 
 
 " I have said it was a gift — the first gift I 
 ever received. If I presented it to you, would 
 you part with it to another ?" 
 
 " Not for worlds !" 
 
 " Then why blame me ?" 
 
 '^ You then love another !" 
 
 " My father has taught me to respect — to 
 esteem his friend." 
 
 '* You cannot love me, Mher-Ul-Nissa ! 
 — your hand is pledged to some more fortunate 
 being V* 
 
 " Not so, Afkun— if that had been the case, 
 I should have confessed it to you at once, 
 with that frankness which I hope belongs to 
 me." 
 
 " If I go to Cashmere, without some hope 
 that I may expect a more favourable answer 
 from you, I shall care little what becomes 
 of me. With you, life, power, dignity, would
 
 222 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 be precious to me ; but without you they can 
 be nothing." 
 
 '* You will, doubtless, often hear from my 
 father, after you arrive in Cashmere/' 
 
 " But shall he be permitted to speak of Mher- 
 Ul-Nissa r 
 
 " Perhaps!" 
 
 " That is as much as I can press for at pre- 
 sent. May Allah bless you, and direct you 
 towards that which may be most for your own 
 happiness !" 
 
 '* Be assured, Afkun, that happen what 
 may, you will be often remembered by us, 
 while you are absent,*' added Mher-Ul-Nissa, 
 much softened by the ardour of her lover, and 
 at the same time looking at him witli a degree 
 of tenderness, which he had not experienced 
 from her before. 
 
 Rising from the bank, she led the way to the 
 house, where they found Kazim and Mangeli 
 waiting, with no common anxiety, to learn the 
 result of the interview. The experienced minis- 
 ter, well-accustomed to penetrate the feelings 
 of men from the expression of the countenance, 
 read at once in Afkun's quivering lip and
 
 NOURMAHAL. 223 
 
 pallid cheek, the disappointment which he had 
 met. He saw, however, from the manner of 
 his daughter, before she retired with her 
 mother, that some hope still remained of the 
 accomplishment of the object, to which he 
 himself looked forward with the deepest interest. 
 
 Afkun mentioned, in a despairing tone, 
 every thing that passed ; with the exception of 
 his own fears, that Mher-Ul-Nissa had already 
 given her affection to another. Those fears he 
 could not prevail upon himself to disclose, as it 
 was clear that, if they were well-founded, Ka- 
 zim was ignorant of the existence of any such 
 predilection ; and it would scarcely be gene- 
 rous towards the maid, that he should be the 
 first to discover her secret. 
 
 " Well ! well !" observed Kazim, " after all, 
 I do not see why you should despair. She is 
 still young in years, though in intellect so ma- 
 ture. Go to your government. A battle or 
 two will do wonders for you; and if you come 
 back with a few gashes on your breast, after 
 tranquillizing your province, be assured that 
 you cannot have a better passport to the heart 
 of a woman."
 
 224 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 The chieftain soon took leave, without feel- 
 ing much encouragement from the soothing 
 language addressed to him by Kazim ; and 
 before dawn, on the following morning, he was 
 on his way to Cashmere.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The love of a being, composed, like thyself, of water 
 and clay, destroy thy patience and peace of mind ; it ex- 
 cites thee, in thy waking hours, with minute beauties, 
 and engages thee in thy sleep, with vain imaginations. 
 With such zeal dost thou lay thy head on her foot, that 
 the universe, in comparison of her, vanishes into nothing 
 before thee. Not a breath dost thou utter to any one 
 else 3 for, with her, thou hast no room for any other. 
 Thou declarest, that her abode is in thine eye ; or, when 
 thou closest it, in thy heart. Thou hast no fear of cen- 
 sure from any man ; thou hast no power to be at rest for 
 a moment. If she demand thy soul, it runs instantly 
 to thy lip. 
 
 BusTAN, Book 3. 
 
 AcBAR could not have selected an officer, in 
 every respect, more competent to the duties 
 which the state of Cashmere at that period de- 
 manded from its governor, than Shere Afkun. 
 L 5
 
 226 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 His pre-eminent personal prowess, his mild 
 demeanour, his attention to the wants of his 
 troops, his prudence in undertaking enterprises, 
 and his valour in carrying them into execu- 
 tion, rendered him one of the most popular 
 chieftains in the empire. When in the camp, 
 there was no distinction observable between 
 his diet and that of the meanest soldier in his 
 army. There was a slight love of show evinced 
 in his dress ; but even that frailty endeared him 
 the more to his men, as it tended to set off to 
 advantage the fine figure by which he was dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 None of the instructions of the prime minis- 
 ter, Fazeel, were more acceptable to him than 
 those by which he was directed to provide the 
 most energetic measures for the administration 
 of justice, throughout every department of his 
 government ; and at the same time, for reliev- 
 ing the distresses of those families who had 
 remained faithful to the emperor, but whose 
 possessions had been laid waste by the insur- 
 gents. Afkun extended the new regulations 
 to all those whom he found afflicted by the 
 events of the civil war, to whatever party they 
 belonged. He preferred conciliation to perse-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 227 
 
 cution ; and while with one hand he held the 
 sabre, and carried fire and destruction into the 
 quarters of the obstinate fees of Acbar, in the 
 other he bore the laws with which he was en^ 
 trusted, offering pardon and protection to those 
 who were disposed to return to the paths of 
 submission and order. 
 
 The well-known character of the governor 
 preceded him to Cashmere, where his arrival 
 acted like a charm upon the different parties, 
 who were engaged in contending for the su- 
 premacy. Most of the higher noblemen of 
 the province speedily rallied round his stan- 
 dard, and enabled him to march with an im- 
 posing force against the rebels, who were 
 still in arms. The reports that reached the 
 emperor from other sources, detailed the diffi- 
 culties against which Afkun had to make way, 
 as much more serious than he admitted them to 
 be in any of his despatches. Several engage- 
 ments had taken place in the course of a few 
 months, which were treated by the governor as 
 mere skirmishes ; but it appeared, in point of 
 fact, that not only had they required incessant 
 vigilance, superior skill, and indefatigable acti- 
 vity on his part, but that to his single arm
 
 228 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 alone, unquailing under the pressure of alarming 
 vicissitudes in the field, and sometimes of de- 
 fections, at critical moments, on the part of 
 those who had promised assistance both in men 
 and provisions, the complete re-conquest of the 
 province was to be attributed ► 
 
 The emperor, though now somewhat advanced 
 in years, attended with peculiar exultation to 
 the triumphant progress of his arms in Cash- 
 mere. No person could have better appreciated 
 than himself, the arrangements devised and 
 executed by Afkun, for the security of the 
 tranquil districts, and for the subjugation of 
 those whose fidelity wavered, even for a mo- 
 ment. The name of the chieftain was never 
 mentioned in his presence, without calling forth 
 a high eulogy upon the mode in which he per- 
 formed every part of the duties entrusted to his 
 care. The deeds of the Turcomanian were the 
 perpetual theme of the courtiers, who, in this 
 instance at least, were sincere in the praises 
 which they bestowed. He was the hero of the 
 day ; his proceedings were the subject of many 
 a tale and ballad, accompanied with rude por- 
 traits of the warrior, which bore, perhaps, as 
 much resemblance to his features, as they did
 
 NOURMAHAL. 229 
 
 to those of Baber, or Timur, or any other leader 
 who had ever obtained renown in Hindostan. 
 
 The fame of Afkun, of course, reached the 
 ears of Mher-Ul-Nissa, whom the gossip of the 
 palace, as well as the gratitude of the people of 
 the capital, had already assigned to the Turco- 
 manian, as the most acceptable reward he could 
 receive, for the important services which he had 
 rendered to the empire. Her beauty was 
 scarcely less celebrated than his valour. Her 
 charms could scarcely, indeed, have been exag- 
 gerated ; but poetry had full scope for the exer- 
 cise of its licence, as Mher-Ul-Nissa was seldom 
 seen abroad, unless when with her mother she 
 attended the principal mosque at the conclusion 
 of the Ramazan, or the other great festivals of 
 the year. 
 
 Among the attendants of Mher-Ul-Nissa, was 
 a pale Circassian girl, named Kanun, descended 
 from a family which had once held princely 
 rank in her own country. There was a peculiar 
 gentleness in the manners of this slave, which 
 gained for her the sympathy and confidence of 
 her young mistress. She was tall for her age ; 
 her features, though regular, were marked 
 rather by an interesting expression, than by de-
 
 230 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 cided beauty; she was a skilful embroiderer, 
 played the tambourine and dulcimer to perfec- 
 tion, and had a memory abundantly stored with 
 tales, with which she frequently amused her 
 mistress, as well as the whole circle of her com- 
 panions, while they sat at work in the chamber 
 assigned them for that purpose. 
 
 It was remarked by her fellow slaves, that 
 for some time after the departure of Afkun from 
 the capital, Kanun looked paler than ever, and 
 that her memory, usually so perfect, had failed 
 to supply her with the succession of stories 
 which she had been previously accustomed to 
 relate for their entertainment, especially of those 
 that were relieved occasionally by scenes of 
 drollery, with which she used often to make 
 them laugh by the hour, until they would en- 
 treat her to desist. For some reason or other, 
 she seemed lately to have forgotten every kind 
 of narrative, that did not bear on the actions of 
 brave warriors, and she felt the greatest delight 
 in repeating the ballads which had been circu- 
 lated through Agra, in praise of the governor of 
 Cashmere. 
 
 Sometimes Kanun sat with Mher-Ul-Nissa, 
 beneath her favourite plane-tree, in the garden ;
 
 NOURMAHAL. 231 
 
 and while both were engaged in embroidery, 
 she would relate to her mistress, with a minute- 
 ness of detail that lost nothing in her hands, the 
 most recent reports which had arrived from 
 Cashmere. Whatever was authentic in those 
 communications, Mher-Ul-Nissa had, of course, 
 already heard from her father, who perceived, 
 with unaffected pleasure, that she listened with 
 more and more earnestness, every day, to the 
 tidings which he brought of his young friend's 
 glorious career. But nothing surprised or 
 amazed the intelligent mind of the mistress, 
 more than the marvellous additions, which the 
 slave either invented herself, or related from the 
 information of others, concerning almost every 
 transaction, even the most trifling, in which the 
 Turcomanian chief had any share. His very 
 appearance in the field of battle filled the enemy 
 with terror; he slew thousands with his own 
 sabre, as he plunged into the midst of their 
 ranks; arrows and javelins showered upon him 
 by the foe, instead of injuring him, formed an 
 iron canopy over his head, protecting him from 
 every danger. There was a virtue in his 
 touch, which cured the wounded ; the genii be- 
 stowed upon him elephant-loads of gold, which
 
 232 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 he distributed amongst the poor, and above 
 all, he was the idol of the women, wherever 
 he went. Kanun positively assured her mis- 
 tress, that the governor had already a harem 
 more numerous than either the emperor or the 
 prince Selim, and that the most beautiful of the 
 sex in the royal establishments, was deformity 
 itself, when compared to the houris, whom Ma- 
 homet had already sent to reward the valour of 
 Afkun. 
 
 "Why all this to me, Kanun?" exclaimed 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa, displeased with the girl for 
 touching so freely on this latter topic. 
 
 '* Ah ! it is too true ! Alas ! I fear he will 
 never come to Agra again ; — never more shall 
 we see his fine manly form, and his waving 
 plumes, among these groves !" 
 
 " So, so ! you remember him then ! I was 
 not aware you had ever beheld him." 
 
 "That tower, which you see peeping above 
 the palace, commands almost every part of the 
 garden." 
 
 " And so, whenever Afkun came hither with 
 my father, you watched all their movements." 
 
 " That tower is a favourite place with us all. 
 We have views from it over a great part of the
 
 NOURMAHAL. 233 
 
 capital, and the surrounding country. There- 
 fore, if Afkun happened to be here, you know 
 we could not help seeing him." 
 
 " Were your companions as great admirers of 
 him as you seem to have been ?" 
 
 " Ah ! who that had once beheld that noble 
 Turcomanian, could have done otherwise than 
 adore him ?" 
 
 " What a deep drawn sigh was there ! Why 
 surely, Kanun, you are not in love with the vice- 
 roy of Cashmere ?" 
 
 " I know not but this I am sure of; had 
 
 I been Mher-Ul-Nissa, I should certainly not 
 have refused him that lily of the valley !" 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked the mistress, 
 blushing deeply, on finding that there had been 
 eyes in the tower, from which her last interview 
 with the chieftain had not been concealed. 
 
 " Why, I mean that I should not only have 
 given him the hly, but the whole bouquet of the 
 prince into the bargain. Only compare them 
 for a moment together. — Afkun young, hand- 
 some, brave, wise, with a heart entirely devoted 
 to you. I do believe he would have kissed the 
 very ground on which you walked. Then think 
 of the prince, — the heir of the empire it is
 
 •234 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 true — -but with a harem full of wives — not one 
 of whom he loves — wandering about the streets, 
 often in the disguise of a common beggar, with 
 a set of low companions, whom he leads into 
 all sorts of disgraceful practices, drinking with 
 them wine by night and day. No, no ! there is 
 no comparison between two such persons ! Af- 
 kun is indeed a man. Selim is nothing better 
 than a .'' 
 
 " Hush ! for Allah's sake ! You must be mad, 
 Kanun, to speak in this manner before me of 
 the future emperor of Hindostan." 
 
 Kanun, who observed the half smile with 
 which this reproof was conveyed, was proceed- 
 ing to relate one of the newest pieces of scandal 
 which had been circulated about the prince, 
 when she started suddenly on her feet, as if she 
 had been bitten by a snake. '* It is divine ! What 
 an exquisite lutanist ! And there is a guitar, 
 too, and a dulcimer ! I thought I myself per- 
 formed on that instrument moderately well ; 
 but after hearing that last shake I shall never 
 touch it again !" 
 
 *' The music must be somewhere near us, 
 Kanun !" 
 
 " It is here, among the cedars."
 
 NOURMAHAL. 235 
 
 " Ah ! I see ; it is a little stratagem of" my 
 fiather, to provide what he well knows is to me 
 the most fascinating of all amusements !" 
 " Both the air and words are new." 
 While Mher-Ul-Nissa and her attendant 
 were listening with equally pleased attention, 
 the musicians gradually, but respectfully, 
 approached the plane-tree, still continuing a 
 ballad descriptive of the feelings of a young 
 warrior, who was obliged, by the dictates of 
 duty, to separate himself from his mistress at 
 the moment that she had plighted to him her 
 faith. The soldier fought his way to glory; 
 and the composition, apparently the produc- 
 tion of no ordinary hand, concluded with 
 the incidents of a combat, in which he fell be- 
 neath the superior power of his enemy. This 
 was followed by another poem, set to music, of 
 a most pathetic character, in which the un- 
 happy maid, who had followed her hero to the 
 wars, was portrayed wandering over the field of 
 battle, until she found him of whom she was in 
 search, but now cold upon the bare ground, 
 with no covering save the canopy of heaven. 
 The agonies of the lover were then told with 
 such effect, both in the verse and the music^
 
 236 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 that Mher-Ul-Nissa, moved even to tears, unable 
 to restrain her apprehensions, desired Kanun 
 to ask the minstrels whether this ballad were no 
 more than the invention of a poet, or whether 
 indeed it related in any manner to Afkun. 
 
 The Circassian girl heard not the command 
 given her : all her attention was devoted to the 
 lutanist, who, though he at first touched the in- 
 strument with inimitable grace, seemed for some 
 time to have lost his powers of execution, and to 
 employ all his faculties in observing the change 
 that took place in the countenance of Mher-Ul- 
 Nissa. There was something, too, in the ap- 
 pearance of the musician, which reminded 
 Kanun so strongly of Afkun himself, that she 
 watched his looks and movements with the 
 same intense curiosity which he betrayed in fol- 
 lowing those of her mistress. 
 
 " Alas, Kanun !" exclaimed Mher-Ul-Nissa, 
 resting her hand for support on the shoulder of 
 her attendant, " should this be the true his- 
 tory of Afkun!" 
 
 " He would be the happiest of men, even in 
 death," added the lutanist, falling on one knee 
 before her ; " for he would then be wept as he 
 now is by Mher-Ul-Nissa. These tears repay
 
 NOURMAHAL. 237 
 
 me for every danger, — for what was still more 
 afflicting to me, the long season of fearful 
 doubts which I have spent since my departure 
 from Agra." 
 
 Kanun was all rapture on account of the 
 return of the chieftain. She ran off to her 
 companions to be the first to communicate 
 the joyful intelligence; leaving her mistress 
 in the care of her lover, and altogether for- 
 getting whether, at such a moment, her ser- 
 vices might not have been much more neces- 
 sary under the plane-tree than in the embroi- 
 dery chamber. The clamour which they all 
 set up, drew the attention of Mangeli, who was 
 engaged in hearing her husband reading a letter 
 from Afkun, announcing his immediate return 
 to Agra. Though not prepared for his appear- 
 ance so speedily, and that too in the disguise of 
 a lutanist, it need hardly be added, that on once 
 more beholding their young friend, covered as 
 he was now with fresh glories, and manifestly 
 accepted as the future spouse of their beloved 
 daughter, their delight was at least as sincere, 
 though not quite so enthusiastically expressed, 
 as that of the Circassian maid herself.
 
 238 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. 
 
 Tlie boatmen shout — " 'tis -time to part ' 
 
 No longer we can stay :" 
 'Twas then Maimuna taught my heart, 
 
 How much a glance could say ! 
 
 With tremhling steps to me she came ; 
 
 " Farewell ! " she would have cried ; 
 But ere her lips the word could frame, 
 
 In half formed sounds it died. 
 
 Then hending down, with looks of love. 
 
 Her arms she round me flung ; 
 And, as the gale hangs on the gi"Ove, 
 
 Upon my breast she hung. 
 
 My willing arms embraced the maid, 
 
 My heart with raptures beat ; 
 While she but wept the more, and said, 
 
 " Would we had never met !" 
 
 Musici.AX OF Bagdad. 
 
 Amongst the earliest companions of the Prince 
 Sehm, there was one, named Fereid Bochari, 
 who long continued to possess over the mind of
 
 NOURMAHAL. 239 
 
 his master an unrivalled influence. He was the 
 son of Abdulhamid Messower, a portrait painter 
 of Shiraz, who had been employed by Acbar 
 for several years in painting the beauties of the 
 harem. Bochari, while yet a boy, was fre- 
 quently admitted with his father into the inte- 
 rior of the harem, where he became ac- 
 quainted with the prince. The near equality of 
 their ages, the lively spirits of Bochari, and the 
 infinite resources which he had at his command 
 for amusing the heir to the empire, soon pre- 
 pared for him the way to fortune. His father, 
 of course, gave every encouragement, and all 
 the improvement in his power to talents, which 
 had already won for his son the favour of so 
 important a personage. At the earnest solicita- 
 tion of Selim, Bochari was altogether domes- 
 ticated in the palace. They were inseparable 
 companions, both in the school-room and in the 
 gardens assigned them for recreation. They 
 grew up together from youth to manhood ; and 
 although the emperor frequently observed with 
 solicitude, the strange power which the Persian 
 exercised over the resolutions of the prince, 
 whether they were connected with matters of 
 business or pleasure, nevertheless, he made no
 
 240 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 attempt to break the links by which they ap- 
 peared to be bound together. 
 
 The son of Messower was from nature, 
 as well as from the circumstances under 
 which he was brought up, a consummate hy- 
 pocrite. In the presence of the emperor, or 
 of the influential persons employed about him, 
 Bochari exhibited a peculiar gravity of de- 
 meanor, supposed to be partly the result of the 
 rigid principles of rehgion, which he affected to 
 follow ; partly of the profound veneration which 
 he professed to feel for the ministers and other 
 great officers engaged in the service of the 
 empire. For the restraint, however, which he 
 imposed upon himself on these occasions, he 
 took ample compensation when he w^as alone 
 with Selim. There was then scarcely any body 
 invested with public office, whom he did not 
 mimic with an extraordinary degree of perfec- 
 tion, in voice, language, and manner. Sehm 
 confessed that he would often have found it dif- 
 ficult to believe that Bochari was not himself 
 the very character he represented, had not the 
 latter generally taken care, when finishing the 
 exhibition, to turn his originals into ridicule. 
 When, after an evening's amusement of this
 
 NOURMAHAL. 241 
 
 description, they found themselves near each 
 other at any of the ceremonies of the court, in 
 the presence of the very personages who had 
 thus been caricatured, Selim frequently burst 
 into laughter which he could not control ; very 
 much to the horror of the emirs, and sometimes 
 even of the emperor, who noticed his indecor- 
 ous merriment ; while not a muscle was moved 
 in the countenance of Bochari. On the con- 
 trary, he would often take it upon himself to 
 reprove the prince for his levity, and to engage 
 him in conversation, in order to prevent its re- 
 newal. Every body, who witnessed these scenes, 
 looked upon it as a most fortunate circumstance, 
 that a person of so much discretion was placed 
 near the prince, who had sufficient influence to 
 check these improprieties of conduct. 
 
 Bochari inherited from his father a most un- 
 governable passion for wine. He was rigidly 
 cautious in never drinking before mid-day 
 prayers, as the consequence would have been 
 fatal had he been discovered drunk in the 
 mosque ; and, besides, the emperor seldom 
 passed a morning without visiting the apart- 
 ment of his son. But the afternoons, which 
 were supposed to be spent by the prince, and his 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 companion, in riding in the country near Agra, 
 were very generally devoted by both, even be- 
 fore they arrived at manhood, to a very differ- 
 ent purpose. They left the palace mounted, as 
 usual, for an excursion. They had in their pay 
 a peasant, who owned a small shed in the 
 neighbourhood of the capital, to whose care 
 they confided their horses. Then putting on 
 the dresses of common soldiers, which they had 
 provided, they returned in disguise to Agra; 
 and establishing themselves in one of their 
 favourite wine-houses, they usually drank from 
 fifteen to twenty cups each, sometimes alone, 
 but more frequently in the midst of the lowest 
 company by which those places were crowded. 
 The prince became, in a short time, so much 
 addicted to this beverage, that if he were de- 
 prived of it, at his accustomed hours, his hands 
 began to shake, and he was unable to sit at rest 
 until wine was brought before him. 
 
 When Selim was permitted, at the usual age, 
 to establish a harem of his own, Bochari lent 
 all his assistance in collecting for it the most 
 beautiful women of Hindostan. But the skill 
 and perseverance with which he succeeded in 
 rescuing his master from the predominant in-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 243 
 
 fluence of any of his numerous wives, would 
 have been admirable, had they been exercised in 
 a more legitimate cause. Accustomed to dic- 
 tate every fancy he suffered Selim to indulge, 
 he would bear no rival in the absolute dominion 
 over him, which he wielded with the sway of 
 an enchanter. As soon as he learned, by ques- 
 tioning the prince, that the charms of a parti- 
 cular female were assuming a marked supe- 
 riority in his esteem over those of her compa- 
 nions, he so concerted his measures, that to 
 make him forget such dangerous attractions, a 
 new rival was introduced, destined, in her turn, 
 to be sacrificed the moment she aimed at se- 
 curing the permanence of her ascendancy. 
 
 Bochari had, with all the world, heard much 
 of the beauty of Mher-Ul-Nissa. The few oc- 
 casions on which he had seen her, enabled him 
 to confirm, by his own observation, the reports 
 which had reached his ear. He acknowledged 
 to Selim, who often spoke to him about her, 
 that the poets, in their most inspired moments, 
 had never pourtrayed an earthly being, whose 
 presence was more bewitching than the daughter 
 of Kazim Ayas. There were, however, a steadi- 
 ness and dignity in her mien, and a quick in- 
 m2
 
 244 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 telligence in her eye, which at once commanded 
 Bochari's respect, and forbade him to think of 
 any scheme for adding that lovely person to the 
 harem of the prince. He feared that the mo- 
 ment of her marriage with Selim would, of ne- 
 cessity, be that of his own downfal. He could 
 hope to find no rival in Hindostan; nay, not 
 even in Persia, whom he might make use of, for 
 the purpose of counteracting the influence 
 which her fascinations of person and of mind 
 would be sure to attain. The circumstance, 
 therefore, of her being engaged to Afkun, was 
 the more agreeable, as it was by him unex- 
 pected. For he had not failed to discover 
 that Selim's attentions to Mher-Ul-Nissa re- 
 cently assumed a character very likely, if un- 
 resisted, to lead to the most important conse- 
 quences. 
 
 The apprehensions of Bochari, on this sub- 
 ject, were excited to an extreme degree one 
 evening, soon after it was publicly declared 
 that Afkun was to be united to the daugh- 
 ter of the high treasurer. The chieftain had 
 scarcely obtained from Mher-Ul-Nissa, the pro- 
 mise of her hand, when he was again suddenly 
 called to his government by the occurrence of
 
 NOURMAHAL. 245 
 
 a series of the most awful calamities, which 
 were caused by the overflowing of the lakes, in 
 consequence of the melting of the snows in the 
 mountains, as well as an unusual continuance 
 of heavy rains. The waters overspread the 
 country for many leagues, and as they poured 
 along with irresistible fury, they swept away 
 not only the harvests standing in the fields, but 
 whole villages, and innumerable flocks and 
 herds, which happened to be within the reach 
 of the inundation. 
 
 During Afkun's absence, Kazim gave a 
 splendid banquet in honour of the approaching 
 nuptials. Selim and his companion, together 
 with several of the most dignified personages 
 of the empire, were present. The wines, all of 
 the most exquisite kind, were very freely circu- 
 lated; and after the crowd of less intimate 
 guests had withdrawn, the ladies, veiled as 
 usual, made their appearance. 
 
 At the request of Selim, Mher-Ul-Nissa 
 sung to her lute several of her favourite airs. 
 Bochari observed, that her melodies, whether 
 from accident or design he could not con- 
 jecture, were, for the most part, of a grave 
 and even plaintive turn, instead of being suited
 
 246 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 to the joyousness of the occasion. There was 
 one especially, which told, in the most touch- 
 ing tones, the grief of a Cingalese girl, who had 
 been attached to a native of her own island ; 
 but who had an opportunity, after being sold 
 as a slave, to improve, in some degree the 
 severity of her fate, by marrying a foreign 
 prince. The verses, in which she described the 
 innocence and ardour of her first love, as con- 
 trasted with the reluctance she felt in bestow- 
 ino; her hand, where it never could be accom- 
 panied by her heart, were given by Mher-Ul- 
 Nissa with a tenderness, which drew tears from 
 every body present, with the exception of Bo- 
 chari. While all other eyes were fixed upon 
 the ravishing minstrel, his were wholly em- 
 ployed ia watching, with secret anguish, the 
 powerful effect which her performance produced 
 on the feelings of the prince. 
 
 Although Mangeli beheld this scene with 
 the natural pride of a mother, yet feeling that 
 if it were prolonged, under the circumstances, 
 it might give rise to unjust interpretations, she 
 desired her attendants, all of whom were robed 
 in the most sumptuous attire, to form for the 
 dance. But although those maidens, most of
 
 NOURMAHAL. 247 
 
 whom were characterised by beauty and grace- 
 fulness, executed their appointed parts in the 
 dance in a superior style, they attracted not the 
 slightest notice from Selim. His wrapt atten- 
 tion still dwelt on the song which he had last 
 heard, and he pressed for its repetition with so 
 much earnestness, that it seemed almost in- 
 hospitable to refuse his request. Mher-Ul- 
 Nissa resumed her instrument ; but while she 
 was still preluding to the air which she in- 
 tended to play, two of the principal strings 
 snapped asunder with a loud, and, as some 
 felt, an ominous sound, like the shriek of an 
 evil genius. 
 
 In order to dissipate the sudden gloom 
 which this incident created throughout the 
 company, she rose, and ordering Kanun to 
 take the flageolet, while another of her attend- 
 ants struck the double- stringed harp, she stood 
 in the midst of the circle like some wonderful 
 statue fresh from the hand of the artist. The 
 music of the two performers at first lamented 
 the fate of a Hindu shepherdess, whom the god 
 Vishnu transformed into marble, lest, during 
 his temporary absence from earth, she might 
 surrender her affections to an ordinary mortal.
 
 248 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 A rapid transition was then made to the most 
 charming pastoral strains, resembling those 
 which the former companions of the metamor- 
 phosed maid poured forth from their simple 
 reeds ; when after seeking her for many a day 
 over the fields, where she had been accustomed 
 to tend her flocks, they at length discovered her 
 near a fountain^ as they thought asleep. They 
 hoped that they might awake her from her leth- 
 argy, by addressing her in the tones v^^hich she 
 most loved to hear — the songs of her youth ; 
 but she remained insensible to their appeals, 
 renewed though they were from day to day. At 
 length, a young unknown shepherd, who, with a 
 lyre slung on his back, joined the group one 
 morning, as they were proceeding to the fountain, 
 mingled the brilliant notes of his instrument 
 with those which had hitherto failed to pro- 
 duce any effect on the sleeping girl. Suddenly 
 the marble trembled, and became relaxed — the 
 glow of genial warmth overspread the whole 
 figure — blushes kindled on the cheeks — the 
 eyelids separated, and from beneath them shot 
 forth a living fire — the arms moved — and while 
 the rustics, gazing with rapture on the miracu- 
 lous change that was going on, imparted to
 
 NOURMAHAL. 249 
 
 their music the brightening joy by which they 
 were inspired, the strange shepherd, taking the 
 maid by the hand, called all her limbs into the 
 most exquisite action, descriptive of the hap- 
 piness of those, who, after a long separation, 
 are again joined in the sweet consciousness of 
 mutual affection. 
 
 Mher-Ul-Nissa answered to each variation 
 in the strain, with irresistible truth and power 
 of expression. The statue, veiled in drapery, 
 seemed for a while without vitality — breathless 
 — cold — but still beautiful, even in apparent 
 death. No feature or limb moved, while the airs 
 of the shepherdesses emulated each other, in 
 endeavouring to recal her to emotion ; but when 
 the well-known music of the god touched her 
 ear, the effect was electric upon the whole 
 assembly. Her figure appeared to warm by 
 degrees, from utter insensibility to a divine rap- 
 ture. The sentiment that actuated her entire 
 being was shown in attitudes and movements, 
 refined far above those exhibitions to which the 
 grosser sense gives rise. 
 
 Selim followed her steps, with a degree of 
 admiration which he knew not how to repress 
 within the ordinary bounds of decorum. He 
 M 5
 
 250 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 was beside himself with dehght. And when, 
 in gliding before him, her veil chanced to be 
 wafted from her head, suddenly disclosing to 
 his view all the charms of her unrivalled 
 countenance, blushing, with confusion for such 
 an untoward accident, his bended knee, his 
 upward glowing looks, his hand pressed on 
 her's, whilst he exclaimed, " Nourmahal !"^ 
 at once proclaimed feelings, which, though they 
 found no words, announced, that from that hour 
 they were, for good or for evil, to rule his sub- 
 sequent existence. 
 
 * " Light of the harem !"
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 251 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 At the end of the street, there advanced before me a 
 damsel, with a fairy's cheeks, who, in the manner of a 
 pagan, wore her tresses dishevelled over her shoulder, 
 like the sacerdotal stole. I said, " O thou ! to the arch 
 of whose eye-brow the new moon is a slave, what quarter 
 is this, and where is thy mansion?" 
 
 ISMAT. 
 
 Selim, on returning to his apartments in the 
 palace, sought his couch in vain, after the scene 
 of that fatal night. Sleep was, indeed, un- 
 solicited by him, for he preferred repeating to 
 himself the songs which Nourmahal, as he 
 thenceforth styled her, had sung, representing 
 over and over again, to his heated fancy, the 
 attitudes of the maid, and retracing in his 
 memory the lines of her matchless and now 
 deeply-beloved countenance. The report of her
 
 252 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 having been betrothed to Shere Afkun rose 
 occasionally upon his mind, like a dense stormy 
 cloud, that seemed about to blight all the pro- 
 spects of happiness which he had already en- 
 tertained. But he flattered himself with the 
 hope that the rumours, which had been circu- 
 lated on this subject, were void of foundation. 
 It was impossible, he thought^ that she could 
 love Afkun, since, while he was far away, she 
 betrayed no depression of spirits. To judge 
 by himself, now that he was no lonsrer in Nour- 
 mahal's company, he felt that he was the most 
 miserable being in the world. Would she not 
 have mentioned him sometimes, — would she not 
 have subdued the expression of her enchant- 
 ing powers, — would she have sung or danced 
 so divinely, if, indeed, she had been labouring 
 under the grief that must have been caused by 
 his absence, had he been truly present to her 
 heart ? 
 
 The day, as it dawned j into his chamber found 
 Selim still feverishly busy in forming projects 
 for his union with Nourmahal, let what would 
 be the consequence. What ! even if she had 
 been pledged to Afkun, such a ceremony was 
 not irrevocable. His father, the emperor of Hin-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 253 
 
 dostan, whose voice gave law to more than a hun- 
 dred millions of people, might surely dispense 
 with the obligations,if any there were, imposed on 
 either party by a proceeding of that nature. He 
 would throw himself at Acbar's feet, and solicit 
 from him this boon, upon which his very life 
 now depended. He would frankly reveal the 
 state of his feelings with respect to Nourmahal ; 
 he would represent the disastrous effect which 
 her union with another would probably produce 
 with respect to all parties ; he might throw a 
 little exaggeration round the degrees of encou- 
 ragement which he believed he had already 
 received from her, — he would mention the 
 bouquet, — the look with which that emblematic 
 expression of affection had been received by her, 
 — he would promise an entire reform in those 
 habits of intoxication which had afforded so 
 much displeasure to his father, and such scan- 
 dal to the court ; and he would, if it were re- 
 quired, even abdicate the reins of empire in 
 favour of his son Chusero, provided only that 
 he were permitted to spend the remainder of 
 his days with her, who had now obtained entire 
 possession of his soul. 
 
 Bochari v\ aited at the usual hour on the
 
 254 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 prince, whom he found still arrayed in the dress 
 of purple satin, and gold turban, which he had 
 worn the night before. 
 
 " 1 am glad you have come at last, my dear 
 Bochari. I wish you would go to the apart- 
 ments of the emperor, and learn whether I can 
 see him immediately/' 
 
 " Not in this dress, at all events ; at such an 
 hour of the morning, he will think you mad if 
 you appear before him in this manner." 
 
 " What do you mean ?'' 
 
 " Look at your turban, your satin vest, your 
 cincture with these massive tassels, your robe 
 of silver tissue, and your silk stockings flowered 
 with gold ; nay, you have not even changed 
 your slippers since we parted last night ; — what 
 can be the cause of all this ?" 
 
 " I shall tell the emperor every thing." 
 
 " What ! you will tell the emperor every 
 thing ? Am I, then, no longer worthy of your 
 confidence ? But I can easily understand it all. 
 I see you have not slept much during the night. 
 You seem scarcely to know what yOu say." 
 
 " Yes, Bochari, I well know what I say, — 
 and what I feel, too. If you, however, refuse me 
 your assistance on the present occasion, I shall
 
 NOURMAHAL. 255 
 
 not know what to do. You are my best of 
 friends ; you will, I am sure, aid me with your 
 inexhaustible resources on the present occasion, 
 — perhaps the most important of my life." 
 
 " You surely cannot think of marrying Mher- 
 Ul-Nissa !" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I thought I was not deceived ; I knew all 
 this last night, — when that faithless and artful 
 woman threw off her veil so indecently in your 
 presence, — in the presence of a crowd of guests." 
 
 " What words are these Bochari ? Faith- 
 less, did you say ? To whom ?" 
 
 "To her betrothed husband, the subah of 
 Cashmere ! Is it possible you did not feel, 
 what every other person in the saloon must 
 have felt, that Mher-Ul-Nissa, though her faith 
 was solemnly plighted to Afkun, put forth all 
 her powers last night, in order to involve you 
 in her dangerous toils ?" 
 
 " But how am I to know that she has been 
 betrothed as you say?" 
 
 " I heard it from Kazim Ayas ; and in order 
 to assure myself on that point, out of mere 
 curiosity, for it never occurred to me that you 
 would feel any interest in the question, I ascer-
 
 256 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 tained the fact from the kadi, in whose pre- 
 sence the ceremony was solemnised." 
 
 " Base wretch ! away from my presence for 
 ever ! No ! you will never make me believe 
 that Nourmahal has promised to be the consort 
 of another !" 
 
 " I shall go hence as you desire, although this 
 is not the treatment which I had expected, 
 after so many years of faithful service ! " 
 
 " No, no — stay Bochari — I am half mad — 
 forgive me — stay — yes — we have been children 
 together." 
 
 '* But we are not to remain children for ever. 
 You are now a man ; though I can hardly call 
 you such, if you thus suffer your feelings to be 
 mastered by a woman, who, if she were married 
 to you to-day, would probably elope with some 
 other lover before the dawn to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh ! Bochari, spare my feelings at this 
 moment; do not thus speak of Nourmahal. 
 She cannot be the wretch you would represent 
 her." 
 
 *' Judge for yourself. She is bound by ties 
 of an indissoluble nature, to Afkun. During 
 his absence, caused, as we all know, by circum- 
 stances which he could not control> she appears
 
 NOURMAHAL. 257 
 
 before a crowd of her father's guests — she sings — 
 she dances — and when she thinks she has excited 
 the feeUngs of another person — of the Prince 
 Selim — to the highest degree, she, as if by ac- 
 cident, lets her veil fall at his feet, and com- 
 pletes her conquest ! What security can you 
 have for the affections of such a woman as this ? 
 Think you she loves you for yourself? Not 
 she — the throne is the sole object of her ambi- 
 tion ; give up that, and you will soon find her 
 turning from you with scorn/' 
 
 The prince, who was already pale from the 
 sleepless night he had spent, trembled from 
 head to foot, while Bochari uttered these un- 
 guarded phrases, foaming with undisguised 
 mortification. 
 
 " Give way to such childish feelings as 
 these ! " resumed the stern monitor, in a tone to 
 which his pupil was wholly unaccustomed, 
 " and you will be the laughing stock of the 
 whole empire. Every adventurer, who has a 
 pretty daughter in his family, will come to 
 Agra and place her in the way of Selim, as an 
 instrument of fortune. Abandoning the faithful 
 mothers of your children already in the harem, 
 you will be tossed about and played with like a
 
 258 . NOURMAHAL. 
 
 shuttle-cock from hand to hand. The cares of 
 state will be forgotten ; you will give yourself 
 up entirely to the blandishments of women; 
 you will surrender successively to their fathers 
 or brothers the sceptre which you ought your- 
 self to grasp with a firm hand ; and ultimately, 
 perhaps, you will be assassinated, in order to 
 make room for some upstart, whom you have 
 yourself raised to high station ; and then Hin- 
 dostan, now the most splendid empire in the 
 world, will fall into a thousand petty provinces ! 
 For shame — let us hear no more of this base- 
 born girl ! " 
 
 " She is the daughter of Kazim Ayas, the 
 high treasurer of the empire ; a man universally 
 respected, and I may even say, beloved. Be 
 just, at all events, in your anger !" 
 
 " And who is this Kazim Ayas, I should like 
 to know ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! true ; high treasurer 
 now ; but what was he, when he first made his 
 way from the wilds of Tartary to Lahore ? It is 
 notorious that he was obliged to beg for bread 
 from door to door ; and that he earned a miser- 
 able pittance, for many years, by writing in a 
 stall for any person who chose to give him a 
 cowrie ! Kazim Ayas, indeed, beloved and re-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 259 
 
 spected! By whom? Not by me, certainly; for, 
 after the events of last night, seeing that he did 
 not prevent his daughter from pursuing the in- 
 decent exhibition which she made, I can look 
 upon him as no better than a common pander ! " 
 
 Selim was shocked, beyond expression, at 
 the language which Bochari used, with re- 
 gard to a family so much honoured by his 
 father, and so highly esteemed by the Omrahs 
 of the court, without exception. Bochari soon 
 perceived, by the silence of the prince, who con- 
 tinued for some time to look at him with 
 astonishment, that he had rather overshot the 
 mark at which he aimed. He knew thoroughly 
 the character of the person he had to deal with, 
 and was especially aware of the obstinacy with 
 which the prince adhered to any purpose, which 
 he could not be wheedled or frightened out of 
 in the first instance. 
 
 " I see then, Bochari," said Selim, after a 
 long pause ; '* that I am not to expect any as- 
 sistance from you in this business." 
 
 " Your highness will, I am sure, excuse any 
 hastiness of expression into which I may have 
 been betrayed, by my zeal for your welfare. 
 Your happiness is, you ^must know, the only
 
 260 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 object of my life. I have been by your side from 
 boyhood upwards; it is not Ukely that I should 
 abandon you now. Your command must ever 
 be my law." 
 
 " That is spoken like yourself, Bochari ; I 
 own I hardly knew, just now, who you were. 
 You never before opposed any of my wishes 
 after such a fashion as this." 
 
 " Nor shall I now, if you think I can render 
 you the slightest assistance." 
 
 " I have, as you know, Bochari, seen and 
 added to my harem some of the most perfect 
 beauties of whom Asia can boast. I was no 
 more than fifteen, when I first beheld the 
 daughter of the Rajah Bharmul, whom I then 
 looked upon as the rose of the world. She is 
 the mother of Chusero, and still preserves my 
 esteem. The lovely Jamaul, the mother of my 
 favourite boy, Parveiz, has also a peculiar 
 place in my heart. Her moon-like beauty has 
 fresh charms for me every time I visit her apart- 
 ments. I am also affected with great tender- 
 ness whenever I take my son, Khorroum, from 
 the arms of his mother Gosseine. Some things 
 have been foretold me of this boy, which induce 
 me to hope that he will be ever affectionate
 
 NOURMAHAL. 261 
 
 and faithful to me, and that one day he will be 
 the ornament of the empire. But neither the 
 daughter of Bharmul, nor the gentle Jamaul, 
 nor Gosseine, nor even Beiby Karmitty, the 
 youngest, and perhaps the most engaging of all 
 my wives, has ever excited in my breast feel- 
 mgs similar to those which have been kindled 
 there by Nourmahal." 
 
 " There is no contending against fate ! It is 
 a power capable of doing with us as it chooses." 
 
 " That is precisely what I think too, my dear 
 Bochari. I am convinced, that if I now endea- 
 voured not to love Nourmahal, I should fail of 
 success. Her image never left me all night. 
 Sometimes she appeared stooping over me, her 
 beauteous eyes dimmed with tears, lamenting 
 the precipitation with which she received the 
 addresses of Afkun, before she had become 
 acquainted with the secret which I revealed to 
 her last-night — that I was her captive ! Some- 
 times that voice, which you have heard, floated 
 in the air around me, while her fingers played 
 like beams of rosy light over the strings of her 
 lute. But you have seen her in that Vishnu 
 dance. — Can you wonder that when her veil fell
 
 262 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 off, I should have been transported beyond all 
 the common bounds of prudence?" 
 
 '* But how are you to get over the contract 
 so solemnly entered into?" 
 
 ** It must be dissolved, Bochari. Mark me, 
 — it must be put an end to, by some means or 
 other." 
 
 *' The emperor might perhaps consent — but 
 then there is his prime minister, Fazeel," 
 
 " Name him not you know that that man 
 
 is my abhorrence/' 
 
 " What with his outlandish notions about 
 the principles of justice — and setting an example 
 of rectitude to the people — and all that kind of 
 nonsensical philosophy, if once he be consulted 
 on the subject, you may look upon the matter 
 as decided against you." 
 
 " And if it be," 
 
 ** We must then think of other means for the 
 attainment of your purpose — Afkun is subah of 
 Cashmere. — He will probably return soon to 
 Agra, to have his nuptials completed — the road 
 is long — a few Afghans, well stationed, disposed 
 to vindicate your cause " 
 
 " Let us spare his blood, if we can. As to 
 Fazeel — he and I never can live lonsj under the
 
 NOURMAHAL. 263 
 
 same sky. His presence is to me the shade of 
 the poison tree. I feel as if I begin to wither 
 whenever I come within its range." 
 
 " Then you must smile upon him henceforth. 
 There is nothing like a luminous smile for de- 
 ceiving your enemy — or, at least the court, 
 when they behold you together." 
 
 *^ Depend upon me — you must have heard of 
 that insolent proposal of his, for excluding me 
 from the succession to the throne, and of trans- 
 ferring my rights to Chusero !" 
 
 *' Under the pretext of insanity ! But, hark ! 
 — the trumpets already announce the breaking 
 up of the Am-kas ! Something has occurred to 
 the emperor ! It is but just now that the gates 
 of the citadel were thrown open to admit the 
 multitude, and already the assembly is broken 
 up ! What can this mean V 
 
 Selim trembled, as he directed his companion 
 to go instantly and inquire into the cause of this 
 extraordinary occurrence, for he knew that no- 
 thing but illness of a serious character, or affairs 
 of the utmost importance, would prevent his 
 father from taking his seat upon the throne, and 
 discharging the duties of the audience which 
 he gave every morning to all his vassals, with-
 
 264 N013RMAIIAL. 
 
 out distinction. Bochari hastened to the apart- 
 ments of the emperor, but was met by an 
 eunuch, as breathless as himself, who asked 
 where the prince was to be found. 
 
 " What has happened V eagerly enquired 
 Bochari. 
 
 "The prince — the prince — where is he?" 
 asked the eunuch — " The emperor, as he was 
 ascending the musnud, fell back on the steps, 
 before any of us could reach him — he still lives 
 — we bore him to his cabinet — he has just 
 spoken, and calls incessantly for the prince — 
 lead me to him without delay." 
 
 Bochari returned with the eunuch to Selim's 
 apartment, who was deeply afflicted by the in- 
 telligence ; for, through all the courses of dissi- 
 pation to which he had been habituated, he still 
 felt a strong sentiment of affection for his father. 
 Forthwith changing his apparel, he went to the 
 cabinet, where he found the emperor surrounded 
 by his principal ministers, resting on cushions, 
 suffering much from the debility of declining 
 years, but more from the tidings which he had 
 just received, of the death of his favourite son, 
 Daniel. 
 
 ** Take these despatches, Selim," said Acbar,
 
 NOURMAIIAL. 265 
 
 ill a feeble voice, frequently interrupted by the 
 pangs of his heart, against which he had no 
 longer sufficient fortitude to struggle. " Take 
 these despatches, my son — read them with due 
 attention. Daniel — my beloved Daniel — be- 
 loved, even though, with all ray efforts I could 
 not reclaim him from those terrible vices, to 
 which he has thus prematurely fallen a victim — 
 is no more. Oh ' Selim, shall his example — 
 his fate — warn you in time V 
 
 The prince was on his knees, bathed in tears, 
 holding the emperor's hand, which he pressed 
 and kissed repeatedly, in token of his entire 
 submission to his father's will. 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 266 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The sword and the dagger are my fragrant flowers ; 
 Contemptible, in my opinion, are the narcissus and the 
 
 myrtle ; 
 Our drink is the blood of our enemies ; 
 Our cups their skulls. 
 
 Arabic Verses. 
 
 From the council-chamber, Acbar was removed 
 to his apartments in the harem, where his phy- 
 sicians succeeded in restoring the current of hfe 
 that had almost ceased to flow, in consequence 
 of the shock he had experienced on receiving 
 the letter which announced the death of the 
 prince Daniel. That unfortunate youth had 
 been commissioned to quell a formidable insur- 
 rection in the Deccan, and had marched thither 
 at the head of a large army. In the course of 
 his journey, surrounded by some of his favourite
 
 NOURMAHAL. 267 
 
 companions, he gave himself up so entirely to 
 the debaucheries which had already worn out 
 his constitution, that the emperor was obliged 
 to recall him, and entrust the command of the 
 army to another officer. On reaching Burham- 
 poor, Daniel was informed of the disgrace that 
 awaited him ; he proceeded, however, to the 
 banquet, attended by the parasites who seldom 
 left his presence, and ordered an extra quantity 
 of wine to be served up. The carouse was con- 
 tinued, with little intermission, until the follow- 
 ing morning, when the dancing women were 
 sent for. On their entering, the prince rose, as 
 it is said, flushed with wine, and attempted to 
 join them, his companions having previously 
 clothed him in female attire. But before he 
 could perform this last act of ignominy, he fell 
 prostrate on the floor ; the ruby colour on his 
 cheeks gave way to a livid paleness, which soon 
 announced that the vital spark had fled. Mes- 
 sengers arrived at Agra with the fatal intelli- 
 gence just as the emperor, after finishing his 
 morning prayers, was proceeding to the Am-kas. 
 •He resolved, however, not to adjourn the as- 
 sembly, and was ascending the throne when the 
 parental grief, which for the moment he at- 
 n2
 
 268 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 tempted to suppress, overwhelmed him. For- 
 tunately, the soft carpets spread over the steps 
 leading to the musnud, protected his person 
 from any serious injury; but his frame, enfeebled 
 through the exertions of a reign exceeding fifty 
 years, and the sufferings brought upon his mind 
 by the discords prevailing in his family, seemed 
 incapable of much longer holding out against 
 the many misfortunes which clouded the evening 
 of his glorious life. 
 
 Meanwhile Abul Fazeel proceeded to take 
 measures for securing the succession to the 
 throne. That experienced and upright minister 
 had long narrowly watched the conduct and 
 character of the Prince Selim, and had arrived 
 at a conclusion, which further observation on his 
 part seemed unlikely to alter, that, although 
 the legitimate heir, Selim was decidedly unfit 
 to preside over the destinies of a monarchy so 
 extensive, and still so unsettled as Hindostan. 
 There was a feminine softness in his disposition 
 utterly inconsistent with the energies, which 
 were required in the chieftain of so vast an em- 
 pire. He gave much more of his attention to 
 the dresses, in which he should dazzle the eyes 
 of the people whenever he appeared in public,
 
 NOURMAHAL. 269 
 
 than to the acquisition of even the ordinary de- 
 gree of information necessary to prepare him for 
 the discharge of the imperial functions. He 
 reposed implicit faith in the predictions of the 
 most ignorant astrologers ; courted the company 
 of magicians, in whose feats he experienced a 
 puerile delight; lavished money on dervishes, who 
 persuaded him that, as chosen saints of heaven, 
 they had the power of working miracles ; and 
 withal surrendered himself so repeatedly to the 
 influence of wine, in violation of the most so- 
 lemn commands of the Prophet, that no states- 
 man, looking forward to the welfare of Hindo- 
 stan, could contemplate the accession of such 
 a prince to the throne, without apprehending 
 consequences of the most disastrous descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 If Selim were set aside, all eyes would be 
 naturally turned to Chusero, his eldest son, by 
 the daughter of Rajah Bharmul. Her brother, 
 Man- Singh, was at that period one of the most 
 illustrious commanders in the empire, a circum- 
 stance of great importance should the succes- 
 sion be seriously disputed. Chusero was a 
 prince of great promise, active in the field, 
 energetic in the pursuit of knowledge, unas-
 
 270 NOUR MAHAL. 
 
 suming in his deportment, and free from the 
 stain of any of those enormities by which his 
 father, and his uncle, Daniel, had been so un- 
 fortunately distinguished. The expectation that 
 he might possibly be called upon to wield the 
 sceptre before the period to which he might, in 
 the ordinary course of nature, calculate upon so 
 important a change in his position, was not un- 
 familiar to his mind, as Man-Singh had often 
 spoken to him upon the subject. One stipu- 
 lation he always mentioned, as so sacred in his 
 eyes, that, unless it were promised and observed 
 in the most inviolable manner, he declared he 
 would never comply with the wishes of his 
 friends — the blood of his father was under no 
 circumstances to be shed — he never would sit 
 upon a throne, reddened by a single drop from 
 the veins to which he owed his own existence. 
 If his father's character were so effeminate, as 
 it had been described, it would not be difficult, 
 Chusero thought, to persuade him that a splen- 
 did retirement in the valley of Cashmere, would 
 be infinitely more conducive to his happiness 
 than the throne of Hindostan. 
 
 The rumour of Selim's passion for the daugh- 
 ter of the high-treasurer, which had been borne
 
 NOURMAHAL. 271 
 
 on a thousand tongues through the noble circles 
 of Agra, had not failed to reach the ears of 
 Fazeel. He was not surprised that the charms 
 of such a woman had produced their natural 
 effect upon the mind of Selim : and had she 
 not been betrothed to Shere-Afkun, it was 
 said that Fazeel would not have discouraged 
 the feelings of the prince in her favour. For the 
 minister fully appreciated the talents of Nour- 
 mahal, recognising in them all the resources 
 fit for the exercise of unlimited power, and for 
 holding under control the ill-regulated mind, of 
 whose sway he felt such calamitous forebod- 
 ings. But the law was not to be broken ; she 
 was the affianced bride of the Subah of Cash- 
 mere, and Fazeel's first care was to despatch a 
 trusty messenger to that officer, informing him 
 of the state of things at Agra, and directing 
 him to return to the capital without delay. 
 
 Kazim-Ayas readily co-operated with Fazeel 
 in all the steps necessary to accelerate their 
 nuptials, which, upon Shere-Afkun's arrival, 
 were celebrated in a private manner; and he 
 returned forthwith to Cashmere, accompanied 
 by her to whom he had so ardently looked, as 
 the best reward of all the services which he
 
 272 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 had had the good fortune to render to his sove- 
 reign. Those services were of the utmost im- 
 portance in that remote part of the empire, 
 where, if he had not been restrained by his 
 sense of duty, and his strong personal attach- 
 ment to Acbar, he might have easily founded 
 an independent monarchy. But although per- 
 sons were not wanted, who suggested to Afkun 
 temptations of that kind, he steadily repudiated 
 every thought of power which he did not derive 
 from the confidence of his imperial master. 
 
 Fazeel communicated freely with Man-Singh 
 upon the dangers with which the empire was 
 threatened. They met frequently at the house 
 of the latter, which was on the bank of the 
 Jumna, at some distance from the seraglio, 
 beyond the gate leading to Delhi. Their con- 
 ferences were, occasionally, attended by Chu- 
 sero, and by some of the principal omrahs and 
 rajahs, who partook of their sentiments. Bo- 
 chari carefully watched all their proceed- 
 ings. The performance of Nourmahal's nuptials 
 with Afkun, and the suddenness of her de- 
 parture for Cashmere, before he had even sur- 
 mised that such measures were in contempla- 
 tion, though coinciding with his secret wishes
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 273 
 
 in every respect, excited bis jealousy, and 
 wounded his pride ; for he had been taught to 
 believe, that no event of importance could pos- 
 sibly have occurred in the capital, without his 
 being acquainted with it before-hand, so nu- 
 merous and so active was the legion of emis- 
 saries retained in his employment. He rightly 
 conjectured at once the object which the par- 
 ties had in view, who assembled so frequently 
 at the house of Man-Singh ; and although, 
 from the secrecy with which their councils were 
 attended, he failed to discover any tangible 
 ground upon which he could openly accuse 
 them of a conspiracy to change the lawful suc- 
 cession to the throne, he took care to diffuse 
 through the court, and to convey to the ear of 
 the emperor, reports well calculated to create 
 alarm. 
 
 The affairs of the Deccan having become 
 more and more embarrassing, Ac bar, to whom 
 the supposition that Fazeel had any share in 
 preparing the exclusion of Selim from the throne 
 was peculiarly painful, resolved to send the 
 prime minister to the peninsula, with a view, as 
 well to make use of Fazeel's unrivalled talents 
 in reducing to order the scattered elements of 
 N 5
 
 274 
 
 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 authority in that district, as to spare himself 
 the mortification of degrading, in the last hours 
 of his life, a servant, in whom he had found in- 
 corruptible zeal and fidelity, during the vicis- 
 situdes of his chequered career. Acbar, though 
 he clearly saw the defects of character, which 
 promised, according to all human experience, 
 to betray, before the lapse of many years, the 
 unfitness of Selim for the duties of the throne, 
 nevertheless, could not persuade himself that 
 those defects were incurable. The fate of Daniel, 
 he fondly hoped, could not be unproductive of 
 salutary effects upon a mind, which, although 
 devoid of energy, could scarcely be considered 
 as altogether lost to every elevated and virtuous 
 feeling. During his latter illness Selim was 
 constantly in his chamber, attending him with 
 the most pious assiduity. His paternal heart 
 was touched by the prince's attentions ; his 
 pride was interested in the promotion to the 
 place, which he must soon leave vacant, of his 
 eldest son, the natural preserver of his dynasty 
 in the right line of descent ; his first-born, whom 
 he had cherished in infancy with so much de- 
 light, and who was even now endeared to him
 
 NOURMAHAL. 275 
 
 by those very weaknesses, of which the sages 
 of the empire complained. 
 
 Fazeel was too well acquainted with Acbar's 
 character, not to understand the real motives 
 upon which his appointment to the splendid 
 office of viceroy of the Deccan was founded. 
 They were manifested in the orders by which 
 his commission was accompanied, to proceed to 
 that district with the utmost expedition. It 
 had been usual for the emperor to consult with 
 him previously, whenever his services were re- 
 quired at any distance from the capital. The 
 variation from this usage in the present instance, 
 indicated the origin of the unexpected honours 
 which were conferred upon him, and the neces- 
 sity, at the same time, of proceeding with the 
 utmost circumspection in the projects which 
 he had meditated for regulating the succession 
 to the throne. On receiving the commands of 
 the emperor, he felt that obedience to them was 
 an inevitable duty. The omrahs and rajahs 
 joined with him in the confederacy against 
 Selim were of the same opinion ; and they fur- 
 ther thought that in his capacity, as viceroy of 
 the Deccan, he might even contribute essen- 
 tially to the promotion of the object which they
 
 276 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 were pledged to accomplish. Fazeel, therefore, 
 lost no time in repairing to the peninsula, at- 
 tended, as usual, by a small escort ; his name 
 alone constituting his best safeguard, even in 
 the worst of times, and in the provinces most 
 distracted by civil war; such was the veneration 
 in which his wisdom and his inflexible admi- 
 nistration of justice were universally held. 
 
 When Bochari first heard of Fazeel's mission 
 to the Deccan, he looked upon it as a master- 
 stroke of policy on the part of the emperor, 
 imagining that it would have the effect of com- 
 pletely frustrating the designs which were en- 
 tertained to the prejudice of Sehm's right to 
 the throne. A little reflection, however, added 
 to the malignity with which his soul was in- 
 flamed, whenever new honours of any descrip- 
 tion were bestowed upon Fazeel, led him to 
 form a very different conclusion. His first im- 
 pulse was to persuade the prince to have Fazeel 
 recalled and committed to the state prison at 
 Gualior, upon suspicion of high treason. But 
 as it was unlikely that the emperor would sanc- 
 tion this measure, he conceived that the most 
 certain mode of effecting his purpose would be 
 to take such steps as were within his own
 
 NOURMAHAL. 277 
 
 power, for securing the accession of Selim 
 against opposition of every kind. Through his 
 influence, accordingly, all the omrahs and 
 rajahs then residing at Agra were summoned 
 to the presence of Acbar, who solemnly declared 
 it to be his will, that at his death, Selim should 
 be his successor. This object attained, Bochari's 
 next step was to disguise himself in the dress 
 of one of the astrologers who frequent the great 
 royal square of Agra, and to take his place in 
 that part of it usually resorted to by the most 
 profligate of the adventurers, who flock to the 
 capital from all parts of the empire. 
 
 Clothed in a swarthy grizzly beard, a pointed 
 yellow hat, that came down low upon his fore- 
 head, a flowing garment of faded ruby silk, tied 
 round his waist by a wide leathern cincture, on 
 which the signs of the zodiac were figured, he 
 sat down upon a piece of tattered dusty carpet 
 under a sun-shade, holding open before him a 
 large volume, containing charts of the sun, 
 moon, and stars, and characters in a strange 
 tongue, which astrologers alone have the power 
 to interpret. To these, he added a compass 
 and other mathematical instruments necessary 
 for the elucidation of the mysteries of which
 
 278 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 those men become possessed in their intercourse 
 with the superior worlds. 
 
 The sun still burning fiercely in the sky 
 when Bochari spread his carpet on the ground, 
 there were few persons in the square, except the 
 rajahs in the emperor's pay, whose weekly turn 
 it was to mount guard before the tents, which 
 they pitch for that purpose; those petty princes 
 having an invincible objection to the perform- 
 ance of their duties within the walls of a for- 
 tress. As the day advanced, and the air be- 
 came refreshed by the breezes from the Jumna, 
 the royal horses bred in Turkestan and Tartary, 
 were led forth from their neighbouring stables 
 for exercise. The shops in the bazaars were 
 again opened and crowded with customers and 
 loungers from all parts of the city; and fakirs, 
 mountebanks, and jugglers, story-tellers, ballad- 
 singers, players on the dulcimer, tambourine, 
 and cymbals, dancing women, charmers with 
 serpents, venders of monkeys, parrots, and birds 
 of every plumage, of Ganges water and lemon- 
 ade, pomegranates and oranges, cooked meats, 
 confectionery, and perfumes, filled the whole 
 square with multitudinous sounds that wonder- 
 fully contrasted with the silenceof the noon.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 279 
 
 Several women, covered from head to foot 
 with white cloth, attempted to solicit the atten- 
 tion of Bochari to the stories which they had 
 to relate, hoping that he might be able to apply 
 a remedy to their various misfortunes, and to 
 promise them more happy destinies. But he 
 bade them pass on, affecting to have his mind 
 absorbed in calculations, from which he could 
 not then be disturbed. His eye was, in fact, 
 fixed upon a group of men, who had been for 
 some time hovering around him. One of these 
 strangers, at length, sat down beside him, and 
 inquired whether he could read in the volume 
 which he was studying the name of the country 
 whence his interrogator and his companions had 
 come, and the purpose for which they had re- 
 paired to Agra. Bochari turned over the leaves 
 with becoming gravity, until he lighted upon a 
 page at which he rested. 
 
 '* You have," said he, ** a military appear- 
 ance, but you are not in the pay of Acbar." 
 
 •* So far you speak the truth," observed the 
 stranger. 
 
 " You come from the south.'' 
 
 " We do." 
 
 " If I read the stars correctly, your object in
 
 280 NOURMAHAL, 
 
 Agra is to gain intelligence as to the journeys 
 about to be made by rich merchants." 
 
 The stranger's countenance betrayed emotion, 
 but he was silent. 
 
 '• You must confide in me," resumed Bochari, 
 " otherwise I cannot disclose the knowledge 
 you wish to attain. You have many other 
 companions besides those whom I see speaking 
 to that Tartar yonder." 
 
 *' We muster a thousand horses, whenever 
 occasion requires." 
 
 ** What do I behold ? The page glows all 
 over with gold ! Here are the rays of diamonds, 
 emeralds, and rubies — here the full blaze of the 
 opal ! and your stars teem with prosperity — but 
 all depends upon expedition," 
 
 ** We dwell in the forests of Narwar — too 
 distant from Agra for any immediate opera- 
 tions." 
 
 " So I read it — Narwar — Orcha Rajaputs, 
 are you not?" 
 
 *' The true descendants, as you must know, 
 of the princes, who, from the most ancient 
 times, have ruled all that district of the Deccan 
 as far as Golconda, until we were driven from 
 our native castles by the troops of Acbar. We
 
 NOURMATIAL. 281 
 
 have now no home, save the depths of the 
 forests, whence we expel the panther and the 
 leopard — the dens even of the wild beasts are 
 deemed too good for us by Fazeel, who has 
 issued, through the mouth of the emperor, 
 orders for our extermination." 
 
 *' He is now on his way to your country." 
 
 " Fazeel ?" 
 
 " Fazeel — viceroy of the Deccan." 
 
 " Better than gold — better than all the mines 
 in Hindostan/' said the Rajaput, half drawing 
 his scimitar. 
 
 " He is attended by camels laden with new 
 gold coin for the pay of the troops — a glorious 
 prize !" 
 
 '* The hour of revenge has come at last !" 
 
 " Not of revenge only, Rajaput, but of wealth 
 beyond your calculation — away to your forests 
 — assemble your associates — watch for your 
 prey — and if you miss him !" 
 
 " I possess only this silver rupee — it is all I 
 can offer for your information." 
 
 '^ Restore it to your purse — turn your back 
 on Agra just as the moon is rising, and the 
 fates will be with you. Rest here a moment
 
 282 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 longer — and the next year's sun shall not be- 
 hold a living member of your tribe." 
 
 The Rajaput rejoined his companions, with 
 whom he immediately disappeared from the 
 square ; and the astrologer, gathering up his 
 books and instruments in his carpet, folded up 
 his sun-shade with that sort of satisfaction 
 which an artificer feels in the evening, when he 
 thinks that he has done a good day's work.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 the bliss of that day, when I shall depart from this 
 
 desolate mansion j shall seek rest for my soul, and shall 
 
 follow the traces of my beloved ! 
 
 Hafiz. 
 
 The indisposition of the emperor, and the re- 
 ports of conspiracies with which the capital 
 was for some days inundated, had the effect of 
 diverting the attention of Selim from the violent 
 determination which he seemed disposed to 
 form, with a view to prevent the completion of 
 Nourmahal's marriage with Shere-Afkun. The 
 intelligence of her nuptials, and of her departure 
 for Cashmere, came, however, upon him like a 
 thunderbolt. His first impulse was to have 
 them apprehended on their road, and brought 
 back to Agra, let the consequences be what they
 
 284 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 might. But from this course he was dissuaded 
 by Bochari, who insisted that all his exertions 
 should be directed to the defence of his title to 
 the throne, which was exposed to no common 
 danger ; and that any violation, upon his part, 
 of the laws at such a moment, besides turning 
 against him so powerful a chieftain as Afkun, 
 would be certain to render his cause extremely 
 unpopular. 
 
 " Wait until you ascend the musnud : the 
 sceptre fixed firmly in your hand, and order 
 restored throughout your dominions, it will, in- 
 deed, be singular if means cannot be found for 
 adding to your harem any woman whom you 
 may select in Hindostan." 
 
 Selim listened with impatience to the councils 
 of Bochari, but their discourse was abruptly 
 terminated by a messenger from the emperor, 
 who directed the prince to preside in his place 
 at a cabinet announced to deliberate upon affairs 
 of great urgency. Acbar might, indeed, be said 
 to have already resigned the government into 
 the hands of his son. His strength never for 
 an instant rallied after he received the tidings 
 of Daniel's ignominious death, and although 
 his intellect remained unobscured to the last
 
 NOURMAHAL. 285 
 
 moment of his existence, he became every day 
 more indifferent to all those objects of ambition, 
 to the attainment of which the vigour of his 
 youth and manhood, and even the wisdom of 
 his advancing age, had been devoted. The 
 grief that preyed upon his thoughts bade him 
 look at the past as a dream already concluded, 
 — a dream in which victory and defeat were 
 incidents that seemed to be the sport of some 
 power superior to his own. The splendour of 
 the throne had for him no longer any charms ; 
 his days were numbered, and even if his health 
 were to be restored, he felt that he could know 
 no more happiness in this world, except as a 
 hermit, retired within the limits of some moun- 
 tain solitude, where he might unreservedly give 
 up his hours to melancholy contemplation. 
 
 Not widely different from this state of ap- 
 parently irremediable depression, were the feel- 
 ings of Afkun's beauteous bride, as she jour- 
 neyed towards her new home. Her separa- 
 tion from her mother, to whom she was most 
 tenderly attached, — from her father, whom she 
 resembled in mind, with whose every thought, 
 sentiment, preference and antipathy, she so 
 entirely sympathised that they might be said to
 
 286 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 have had only one soul, — was a sacrifice on all 
 sides, for which no adequate compensation 
 could be expected. Fate, however, had issued 
 her ordinances, and they were irrevocable. 
 Nourmahal parted from each particular rose 
 which she had cultivated, from the favourite 
 plane-tree under which she had so often in- 
 dulged in a vision, — now, she feared, for ever 
 ended, — as if they were living members of her 
 family. The capital, and its lofty citadel, within 
 which the imperial seraglio and the residences 
 of the royal family were situated, — the public 
 squares filled with busy multitudes, — the man- 
 sions of the omrahs surrounded by groves and 
 gardens in perpetual verdure, — the houses of 
 the wealthy merchants, looking like warlike 
 castles rising from the bosom of ancient forests, 
 — and, above all, the Jumna, by whose mur- 
 muring waters she had so often pored over the 
 fascinating verses of Oonsuri and Biana, and 
 the history of the queen Rizia, who reigned 
 over Hindostan with so much glory, until she 
 surrendered her heart to the Abyssinian 
 slave, whom she loved too well, — never ap- 
 peared to Kazim's daughter so full of attraction 
 as on that painful morning when, for the first
 
 NOURMAHAL. 287 
 
 time, she beheld them fading gradually from her 
 sight. 
 
 Reclining in her covered litter, borne by swift- 
 footed elephants, she would have been more or 
 less than woman if she had not kept her cur- 
 tain open in the direction of the citadel, — from 
 its elevated situation necessarily the last me- 
 morial of Agra upon which her eye could linger. 
 Kazim had often pointed out to her the golden 
 dome, beneath which were the apartments dedi- 
 cated to the use of prince Selim and his esta- 
 blishment. She doubted not the feelings with 
 which he would receive the intelligence of her 
 marriage, and of her sudden departure from 
 Agra. A secret voice had told her too truly 
 what those feelings would be ; nor was she 
 without the suspicion, — the fear, — perhaps the 
 hope, — that before the sun went down that day, 
 her journey might be interrupted in a manner 
 for which her attendants were little prepared. 
 Every group of horsemen that approached the 
 cavalcade from the side of the capital, filled her 
 mind with anxious forebodings, which she dared 
 not communicate even to Kanun ; and as each 
 group successively passed away, in various 
 directions, she was obliged to confess to herself
 
 288 KOURMAHAL. 
 
 a sense of disappointment. When the domes of 
 the citadel were no longer to be seen, and every 
 trace of the great metropolis had vanished in the 
 distance, it was still some consolation to her to 
 gain now and then glimpses of the Jumna 
 through the foliage of the fruit-trees, by which, 
 in the reign of the renowned Shere-Khan, 
 of the Patan race, the road was shaded on 
 either side from the Indus to the Ganges. 
 The ripples sparkling in the sun by day, and 
 silvered at night by the moon-beams, seemed to 
 whisper to her that they would soon pass under 
 the citadel, and that, haply, they might not be 
 unseen by him who now occupied more of her 
 thoughts than her better reason could justify, 
 especially when, during the pauses on the way, 
 Afkun presented himself at her curtain, lavish- 
 ing upon her all the attentions which a lover 
 could bestow on a mistress whom he idolized. 
 
 Little remains now of the great forest of Nar- 
 war, in which the Orcha Rajaputs took up their 
 abode in former days. Chased by the arms of 
 Acbar from the populous districts, whicli they 
 had been long accustomed to plunder, under the 
 pretext of merely exacting from the inhabitants 
 a revenue to which they claimed to be lawfully
 
 NOITRMAHAL. 
 
 289 
 
 entitled, they collected in considerable force in 
 those parts of the forest that were least acces- 
 sible to an enemy. They erected a fortress of 
 no mean strength, to which the whole body re- 
 tired when threatened by any serious danger ; 
 but they dwelt for the most part in temporary 
 huts, which they frequently changed, in order 
 to elude the pursuit of the guards appointed to 
 watch over the safety of travellers on the public 
 roads. Disdaining the service of the emperor, 
 which they had been often invited to enter, they 
 preferred a species of wild independence, in 
 which they could not long have sustained them- 
 selves, if they had not continued their system of 
 plunder. Leagued together by relationship, as 
 well as by oaths, which it was death to violate, 
 they carried on warfare against all the rest of 
 mankind. They had their spies in all the great 
 towns, especially in Agra and Delhi, whose office 
 it was to acquire intelligence as to the move- 
 ments of wealthy merchants and caravans, and 
 to transmit it with the utmost rapidity to the 
 rajah of the band, who took his dispositions ac- 
 cordingly for seizing the prey. 
 
 The fortress was always kept well garrisoned. 
 When relief was required, faggots of pine-wood 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 were piled in a cauldron, on the summit of a 
 lofty tower that surmounted the highest trees, 
 and set fire to in the darkest hour of the night. 
 No Orcha Rajaput dared to go to rest at the 
 hour when that signal was usually made, or to 
 hesitate in repairing to the fortress fully armed, 
 before the beacon was extinguished. On other 
 occasions of urgency, their forces were collected 
 by sound of horn — a sound not distinguishable 
 by the unpractised ear from the ordinary call 
 of the shepherds, or swine-herds, to each other, 
 when they wished to meet at night for mutual 
 defence against beasts of prey — but well known 
 by peculiar intonations to the banditti, whom 
 it summoned to those deeds of horror, for 
 which the forest of Narwar was renowned. 
 
 Some days after Fazeel's departure from 
 Agra, a horseman, apparelled as a merchant, 
 joined his escort, and prayftd permission to 
 accompany it, announcing that he was bound 
 for MaGulipatan, whither he was going to pur- 
 chase fine muslins. His request being of course 
 complied with, he fell into the ranks, and 
 loudly congratulated himself upon his good 
 fortune in journeying under such safe protec- 
 tion, in a country wheFe so many robberies
 
 NOURMAHAL. 291 
 
 and murders had been lately perpetrated. He 
 boasted much of his riches, and of the fresh 
 gains he would acquire by his adventure to 
 Masulipatan, and as he was very anxious to 
 avail himself of the escort as far as possible, he 
 inquired carefully as to the route which they 
 were directed to take, and the number of days 
 which they were likely to occupy in the accom- 
 plishment of their journey. In the course of 
 conversation he gave it to be understood, that 
 in his earlier days he had dealt in matches, 
 tipped with a peculiar chemical preparation, 
 which was never known to fail of ignition, — 
 unlike those recently introduced into the mili- 
 tary service, which were often known to fail at 
 the very moment when the assistance of the 
 fire-arms and artillery became most essential. 
 
 The troopers shewed their new acquaintance the 
 sort of matches with which they were furnished, 
 but which, upon inspection, he declared, with 
 an air of authority, to be totally unfit for use. 
 In order to convince them of the infallibility of 
 his judgment in such matters, he begged to be 
 allowed to try a few ; when applied to a torch, 
 lighted for the purpose, each turned as black as 
 charcoal, without yielding any sparks. The
 
 292 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 soldiers thought it lucky that the discovery 
 was made in time, the more particularly as they 
 were now within a few hours of entering on the 
 great forest of Narwar, which was well known 
 to be the haunt of the Orcha Rajaputs. 
 
 The question was, how they could now 
 remedy the evil? This the merchant cheer- 
 fully promised to do, saying that the efficacy of 
 their matchlocks was as necessary to his own 
 security as to that of the great minister upon 
 whom they attended. 
 
 Accordingly, desiring all the matches to be 
 brought to him, when the cavalcade stopped at 
 night on the borders of the forest, he produced 
 from his baggage a box, containing a red com- 
 position, a small portion of which he applied to 
 the end of a piece of common wood. The mo- 
 ment he shook it in the air, the wood blazed 
 of itself, to the astonishment even of Fazeel, 
 who witnessed the experiment, and to whom it 
 was thought no improvement in the arts had 
 been unknown. The merchant again attempted 
 to inflame, in the ordinary way, one of the 
 matches which he held in his hand, but, as 
 before, it turned black without emitting any 
 fire. He touched it with his magical prepara-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 293 
 
 tion, and waved it round his head, when it 
 burst forth in a gush of bright sparkles ! He 
 was occupied a great part of the night in fur- 
 nishing all the matches, which had been served 
 out to the escort, with the composition, of 
 whose value he had exhibited such striking 
 proofs. While he was still at his labour, soon 
 after midnight, one of the officers on guard 
 called his attention to a light that appeared at 
 some distance in the sky, and which the senti- 
 nels believed to be the beacon of the banditti, 
 who held possession of the interior of the 
 forest. The officer was about to give the 
 alarm and awaken the whole escort, in order to 
 prepare for the attack, which might now be 
 momentarily expected. But the merchant as- 
 sured him that the light was nothing more 
 than a meteor of the night, and that, at all 
 events, it could not be the beacon of the Orcha 
 Rajaputs, whose fortress he knew, from having 
 frequently passed that way, to be situated at 
 the opposite side of the forest. The light dis- 
 appearing, after the lapse of a few minutes, no 
 further notice was taken of the circumstance. 
 The merchant, on returning the matches, di- 
 rected that they should be carefully preserved 
 o 3
 
 294 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 from the action of the air until they should be 
 required for use. He then went to sleep on his 
 baggage. 
 
 At sunrise the escort were again in motion, 
 and matin prayers having been said, they re- 
 sumed their journey, preceded by half-a-dozen 
 scouts, who were charged to return, forthwith, 
 in case they should gain any intelligence of the 
 approach of the banditti. The merchant was 
 still asleep when the last trooper was already 
 mounted ; upon being called he rose suddenly, 
 and proceeded to put his baggage together, but 
 it seemed, by some means or other, to have got 
 into so much confusion, that before he could ar- 
 range it on his palfrey, the escort were outof sight. 
 
 They had not advanced far through the 
 forest, when one of the scouts returned with 
 tidings, that he had heard the sound of a horn, 
 which did not strike him to be that either of a 
 hunter or a shepherd. Fazeel directed the 
 escort to be on the alert, and to have the flam- 
 beaus Hghted. He inquired for the merchant, 
 with whom he wished to have some conversa- 
 tion upon the subject of the matches, as well as 
 upon the manufactures of Masuhpatan; for that 
 great man, whose ^' Ayeen Ackberry" is an im-
 
 NOURMAHAL. 295 
 
 perishable monument of knowledge, never ne- 
 glected any opportunity of acquiring informa- 
 tion which he could render useful to the empire. 
 The merchant was nowhere to be found ; '* having 
 remained up so long during the night," said one 
 of the troopers, " he had over-slept himself, and 
 had not yet overtaken the escort." Fazeel, ap- 
 prehensive for his safety, ordered the escort to 
 wait until he should come, and, in the mean- 
 time, sent two of the scouts to look out for him. 
 They galloped to the place where the escort 
 had halted the previous night, but no trace, 
 either of the merchant or his horse could be 
 discovered. 
 
 While the troop was thus waiting, a rusthng 
 was heard in the trees, on one side of the road, 
 which was instantly followed by a murderous 
 discharge of fire-arms. The party attacked im- 
 mediately attempted to return the fire, but 
 upon applying their matches to the flambeau, 
 they became as black as charcoal. In the 
 mean time another volley was poured upon 
 them from the forest, with such unerring aim, 
 that more than half their number was already 
 slain on the spot. The survivors, though 
 astounded by the failure of their matches, pre-
 
 296 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 vented from rushing on their foes by the im- 
 penetrable nature of the underwood and en- 
 tangled trees from behind which the fatal guns 
 were pointed at their hearts, and distracted by 
 the slaughter of their comrades, the neighing of 
 the wounded horses, the piercing cries of the 
 baggage-elephants and camels, and the irreme- 
 diable embarrassments in which they were in- 
 volved, nevertheless, courageously dismounted, 
 and pressing towards Fazeel, who was already 
 twice wounded, tore away branches from the 
 trees, which they used as matches, and heroi 
 cally performed their duties to the last moment. 
 But the voUies came thick upon them, soon 
 followed by a numerous band of the Rajaputs, 
 who completed with their scymitars and spears, 
 the dreadful work which the musketeers had left 
 undone. The body of Fazeel was easily dis- 
 tinguished from the lifeless crowd around it, 
 and barbarously hewn into a thousand pieces. 
 The treasure with which the camels and ele- 
 phants were laden, became, of course, the booty 
 of the savage race, from whose name the in- 
 famy of this deed, and of the treacherous means 
 by which it was effected, never can be erased. 
 The scouts, who had been sent to look for
 
 NOURMAHAL. 297 
 
 the merchant, were, on their return to their 
 companions, met by a fugitive from the scene 
 of action, who told them that all was lost. 
 They therefore made all possible haste back to 
 Agra, and presenting themselves at the palace, 
 related to the officers in waiting the lamentable 
 issue of Fazeel's journey to the Deccan. The 
 intelligence was conveyed at first to the prince, 
 who, though he secretly rejoiced at the removal 
 of an obstacle which stood between him and the 
 throne, nevertheless felt that the intelligence 
 ought to be made public in the mode most con- 
 sistent with the respect that was due to the 
 memory of so important a functionary. The 
 history of the murder was broken by degrees to 
 the emperor, who, already reduced to the last 
 stages of decay, took to himself all the blame 
 of this occurrence, persuaded, that by ordering 
 Fazeel to the Deccan, at an age when that 
 minister was well entitled to retire from public 
 affairs, he had been chiefly instrumental to the 
 catastrophe that had befallen him. The tid- 
 ings spread a general gloom throughout the 
 capital; surmises were strongly entertained 
 that Selim and his minion, Bochari, were not 
 ignorant of the steps taken by the Orcha
 
 298 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 Rajaputs, and that the merchant who joined 
 the escort was engaged expressly by Bochari, 
 for the purpose of rendering the matchlocks of 
 the escort useless in their hands. 
 
 These surmises reached the ears of Acbar, 
 who solemnly questioned Selim concerning 
 them. The prince indignantly repelled the 
 accusation. Bochari was summoned to the 
 emperor's presence, and upon being interro- 
 gated as to the suspicions so universally di- 
 rected against him, declared them to be ca- 
 lumnious, and offered to go through any ordeal 
 in order to establish his innocence. The em- 
 peror was observed suddenly to rise on his 
 couch, while these inquiries were going on in 
 his presence. Snatching a scymitar from the 
 scabbard of one of the eunuchs at his side, he 
 stood on his feet, and fixing his eyes on 
 Bochari/ attempted to move towards him, rais- 
 ing the weapon as if he meant to cleave him to 
 the earth. But in the act his arm was para- 
 lyzed ; some words which he endeavoured to 
 utter died on his lips, and the soul of him 
 whom his subjects loved as a father, idolized as 
 a hero, and feared as the inflexible administra- 
 tor of justice, left this world for Paradise.
 
 NOURMAHAL. 299 
 
 Bochari immediately falling on his knees 
 saluted Selim as the reigning sovereign of Hin- 
 dostan ; and his example having been followed 
 by the whole court, he mounted his horse, pro- 
 ceeded to the city gates, which he ordered to 
 be shut, and brought back the keys, which he 
 placed in the emperor's possession. The news 
 soon reached Chusero, who, taking a small 
 canoe, rowed down the river to the house of 
 Man-Singh, where the confederate Omrahs 
 happened to be assembled in council. Fully 
 prepared for the intelligence which he brought, 
 they silenced the apprehensions which he ex- 
 pressed as to the result of their project, and 
 proceeded to discuss the measures which they 
 deemed necessary to be taken forthwith, for se- 
 curing the accomplishment of their object, be- 
 fore the death of Acbar could become known 
 throughout the capital. The assassination of 
 Selim was proposed and supported by several 
 of the Omrahs ; but the prince, though fired 
 with ambition of sovereign power, recoiled from 
 the thought of parricide. "No!" he ex- 
 claimed, '* my father may enjoy life without a 
 throne; but I can never enjoy a throne stained 
 with a father's blood. Let the fortune of open
 
 300 NOURMAHAL. 
 
 war decide between us. Away with the daggers 
 of assassins — to our swords alone let us look for 
 victory!" These generous sentiments having 
 been loudly applauded by an overwhelming 
 majority of the council, they proceeded the 
 same night towards Delhi, where they resolved 
 to proclaim Chusero as emperor. 
 
 Selim, who took the name of Jehangire 
 (subduer of the world), mounted the throne the 
 following morning at sunrise. His first act was 
 to give orders for the interment of his father at 
 Secundra, a short distance from Agra ; and for 
 the erection there of a mausoleum, which re- 
 mains to this hour a splendid monument of filial 
 piety. He next commanded the imperial crown 
 to be brought before him, and having placed it 
 on his brow, the great state drum was struck, 
 and the cannons, planted on the walls of the 
 citadel; proclaimed, in their voices of thunder, 
 the commencement of a new reign. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
 VRINTEB BY STEWART A^D MORRAY, OLD BAILEV.
 
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