Chapter XVIII

Honour to him, who knows no fear,
But seeks the thickest fight;
While thousands fall before the spear
Held by that arm of might.

Antar.

It was with the utmost difficulty that Mangeli, even with all the assistance she could receive from her affectionate child and consort, maintained her presence of mind, during the progress of the painful scene just terminated. All personal anxiety was, however, now no further thought of. The safety of the emperor was the principal object of their solicitude, and the events, about to occur, became every moment of such absorbing interest, that measures of a decided nature could no longer be postponed.

Jehangire declared his readiness to return at once to his apartments in the palace, or even to proceed into the market-place of Agra, to shew himself to his people, and thus to afford the best contradiction to the rumours that had been circulated of his assassination. Auzeem feared, that in the present state of things, any step of this kind would be attended with a degree of hazard which ought not to be incurred. The reign of the usurper, he said, was clearly drawing to a close. He felt no doubt that the jealousy of Mohabet would speedily deprive the Persian of the support of the main body of the rajaputs, and that if the rival candidates for the throne, which they supposed to be vacant, were left to settle their disputes amongst themselves, they would both soon perish.

Under these circumstances, Kazim strongly dwelt upon the expediency of the emperor’s proceeding, with as much secrecy as possible, to Delhi, where he would be certainly received with open arms, and be defended with the utmost fidelity and enthusiasm.

Auzeem inclined to this opinion, which Jehangire cordially adopted. He would never hesitate, he said, if he had the opportunity, of throwing himself upon the love of his subjects, in any part of his empire. Whatever his personal faults and errors may have been--and that they were numerous he would not deny--he was conscious of no act to which he had been a willing party in his sovereign capacity, that was not intended to promote the happiness of those whom Providence had placed under his authority. Now that he was no longer under the restraint, which had for more than two years kept him a prisoner in his own palace, he was prepared to dare any danger, in order to rid the empire of the oppression by which it was disgraced.

It was then resolved that, at all events, Jehangire, attended by the chancellor and his family, should proceed, by the Jumna, towards Delhi, in a covered boat, if one could be immediately procured,--that Auzeem should remain in Agra, to watch the course of events; and that if those events should assume, as he confidently expected, a favourable turn, he should despatch faithful messengers to inform the emperor, and to recall him to the capital forthwith.

It was still the grey of morning. Auzeem hastened towards the apartments which had been so opportunely abandoned the night before, and looked anxiously through the window, hoping that Zeinedeen’s boat might present itself. He had no doubt that the solicitude of the hermit, for the safety of the late prisoners, would have induced him to collect all the intelligence he could as to the events going on in the city, and to hover about in the river, until he could communicate them without danger of detection.

Fortunately Auzeem was not disappointed. The hermit’s boat was already under the window. Auzeem desired him instantly to row on close to the wall, until he should come to an iron gate, and to wait there. While Zeinedeen was occupied in executing this direction, the minister conducted his companions to the gate, and, raising the upper division of it, by means of the machinery of the sluices, shewed them the hermit’s boat just outside. Their embarkation was but the work of a moment: the awning of the little vessel was immediately adjusted; consisting of a canvass, which, being spread over hoops, completely screened the passengers from view; and a sail was set, which, catching a favourable breeze, bore the precious bark gaily against the lethargic current of the Jumna.

Jehangire felt transported with delight at the sudden change which had taken place in his circumstances. He was now beside her who had been so long the object of all his waking and sleeping visions of felicity. Nothing was wanted to complete his happiness in that respect, except the legal sanctions of marriage, which he was resolved to have performed by the cadi of the first village at which they could land, without incurring any danger of premature discovery. He was in the bosom of a family he esteemed, not only on account of his Nourmahal, as he now loved to call her, but because they had been uniformly zealous in their attachment to him. The chancellor he admired for the noble and disinterested character which he had displayed on every occasion that called it into action; and the hermit, whose learning, and virtues, and splendid intellect had won his regard the first hour he had known him, gained so rapidly upon his heart, that he was resolved, if possible, to detain him always near his own person.

The bark was speedily out of sight of the capital, and beyond the reach even of its sounds. Zeinedeen turned out to be an excellent pilot. While they proceeded on their way, he stated that at midnight, according to appointment, he had gone to the apartments of the merchant, where he waited for two hours. Just as he was coming away, he met Bochari at the door, who asked him what had brought him there. To this question he found it difficult to give a direct answer, without violating the confidence reposed in him by the merchant. He therefore said that he was there at the request of the latter, who had promised to explain some experiments of a chemical nature, in which he was engaged; but as the merchant was not there, he would return another time. Zeinedeen confessed that he much doubted whether the Persian would, upon this representation, permit him to depart. However, finding his movement not opposed, he proceeded down the stairs of the tower, and returning to his boat, anxiously rowed up and down opposite their prison window, until he was called by Auzeem.

The emperor related to Zeinedeen all that they had witnessed in the bath. The hermit was horror-struck. He lamented the fate of the unhappy man, who had evinced a degree of contrition for his crimes, which promised much in favour of his future efforts to expiate them as far as he could, by a total change of life, and supplications to the Merciful One. Whatever were his notions upon this point, it appeared highly probable that his object, in making the midnight appointment with Zeinedeen, was to inform the latter of some project he had contemplated with reference to the sluices. It was evident that he had prepared them for some purpose or another, which he dared not reveal to Bochari, and of which the latter entertained not the most remote suspicion.

The voyagers met scarcely any boats, except those of poor fishermen. One of these they employed to procure them a store of provisions at a farm-house, near which they passed. The provender thus obtained was not very sumptuous, consisting chiefly of hard boiled eggs, some cold fowls, a few cakes of unleavened bread, a basket of grapes, and a jar of spring-water. The fresh air of the Jumna, however, gave the party a relish for any thing they could obtain. Jehangire separated the limbs of one of the bipeds with considerable tact, and distributed it with his own hand. Kazim undertook the division of the bread; and Nourmahal, spreading some vine-leaves on her lap, arranged there the bunches of grapes, which she dispensed with a smiling hospitality, that dispelled the gloom of the night from every body’s countenance.

Her exertions, in this respect, were readily assisted by Zeinedeen, who, as the bark rode steadily along over the rippling waters, related various anecdotes of his life, interweaving with them admirably drawn portraits of distinguished persons, whom he had known during his intercourse with the world. From these he deviated into those tales with which our Asiatic world abounds, much to the delight of Jehangire, who owned that the cares of state had not yet been able to erase from his mind the recollection of the raptures with which, when a boy, he pored over the wondrous narratives of “The Enchanted Horse,” “The Forty Thieves,” “Aladdin,” and “The Merchant of Bagdad.”

“The human mind,” observed the hermit, “is truly a most astonishing creation. The more we examine it, the less we can comprehend it. We listen, as the child, the youth, the matured man, nay, as the patriarch, with intense earnestness to the story-teller, while he is weaving his web of fiction. We know that his production has no truth in it, and yet, I doubt if truth, in its most attractive forms, can exercise over us the charming influence which those productions possess.”

“I confess,” said Kazim, “that I must plead guilty to the same frailty, if such it may be called. Many histories--many books and systems of philosophy, which I have studied with all the diligence I could command, have totally vanished from my memory. But I can even now repeat, word for word, the adventures of the three princes, Houssain, Ali, and Ahmed, during their struggle for the hand of Nourounihar.”

“I remember it well,” said Jehangire, “and that piece of tapestry he purchased at Bisnagar, by sitting on which, he was enabled to transport himself wherever he wished.”

Thus conversing, they arrived at length within view of a considerable village, where the emperor knew there must be a cadi. He immediately requested Zeinedeen to land, to proceed to the cadi’s house, and to make arrangements for the solemnization of the ceremony, which was now the first object of all his thoughts. Zeinedeen joyfully performed the mission with which he was charged. The whole party debarked in the dusk of the evening, and under the names of Selim and Mher-Ul-Nissa, were united the two, whose hearts had long been intertwined by the most ardent affection. The cadi, a venerable old man, who had never stirred beyond the precincts of his village, little dreamed, when he was setting down those names in his register, that he recorded the marriage of the emperor and Nourmahal. The simple forms of the law having been thus complied with, the party returned to their boat, and resumed their voyage towards Delhi.

Meanwhile, Auzeem, upon whose fidelity, prudence, and courage, the fate of the empire now devolved, having carefully restored the upper division of the sluices to its usual position, returned through the subterraneous passage, near enough to the bronze portal, to be enabled to observe every thing that might take place within the bath; or rather, as it should now be called, the banquet-chamber. Soon after Bochari had taken his departure, crowds of male and female slaves entered the chamber and proceeded to heap the tables with cold viands, filling the vases with rich Cabul wine, and making all the necessary preparations for the inauguration feast, which was to be commenced at sun-set.

Bochari had succeeded in reaching his own apartments, without meeting any obstacle. Thence he conveyed his horrid burthen to the secret chamber previously occupied by the merchant. Having carefully secured the door, he again listened, as the sun rose, to the sounds that were rapidly approaching the citadel, until he convinced himself that he heard his own name vociferated again and again. He felt, therefore, no further hesitation in proceeding to the palace. There he met about two hundred of the rajaputs, who, upon his appearance, hailed him as emperor of Hindostan.

He accepted their congratulations in a confused and awkward manner; and when the imperial mantle, which two of the chieftains held in their hands, was placed upon his shoulders, he trembled violently, as if he had been seized by some fatal pestilence. He, however, soon shook off the uneasy sensation, and entering the hall, in which the emperor usually gave audience to the people, he ascended the throne. The great state drum was then struck as a signal to the artillery on the ramparts; and the gates of the citadel were thrown open, when some hundreds of the lowest dregs of the populace appeared in the great square, shouting “Long live Bochari, emperor of India!” Many of them appeared intoxicated with wine. Some were evidently malefactors, who had been permitted to escape from the prisons, upon condition of aiding in the cry of the minions, who had been hired to proclaim the new sovereign. The homage of such a motley crew had nothing in it of a character to redeem their want of numbers. The exhibition of their scantiness in that respect, as well as of the miserable apparel in which they were brought to perform their assigned task, struck upon the Persian’s heart as a fatal omen.

He had been taught by his agents to expect that many of the opulent merchants of Agra had espoused his cause, under the hope that he would elevate them to the rank of omrahs. He was further led to believe that the artizans, and a large number of the people, above the class of mendicants, would join in hailing his accession to the throne. But when he looked at the villanous bands before him, waving their ragged turbans and girdles, or tossing up in the air their greasy caps, he could not conceal from himself that his power was much more secure when he wielded it in the name of Jehangire, than it could be with the sceptre in his own hands.

Bochari speedily discovered, also, that the attendance of the rajaputs was by no means numerous. There were nearly a thousand of that body altogether in his pay, and yet not above two or three hundred, at the utmost, were present to greet his accession to the crown. Mohabet was absent, together with all the rajaputs who were suspected of adhesion to that chieftain’s cause.

These circumstances wore a sinister aspect. Nevertheless, all the fire of his ambition glowed within him, when he beheld the diadem, glistening in its glorious pride of jewellery, placed before him upon a cushion, and beside it the massive golden sceptre, set with emeralds and rubies. Rising, he gave the signal for the great state-drum to be again struck, and the silver trumpets to be sounded. He then planted the crown upon his head--beneath the weight of which, however, he felt as if he were sinking into the earth. The sceptre, also, he grasped, but with a tremulous hand. The rajaputs, and the groups in the square, again hailed him with the title of emperor; and the ceremony being concluded, the miserable pageantry of the usurper’s first court speedily passed away.

The intelligence of his accession, together with the rumours spread, in every quarter, of the emperor’s abdication and death, diffused a deep gloom over the capital. Mohabet and his friends kept in close council the whole of the day. They learned from their emissaries, from time to time, a variety of circumstances, which enabled them to conclude, that nothing would be less difficult of execution at that moment than the complete overthrow of Bochari. They saw, that without their aid, he was utterly powerless, and they therefore resolved, that unless he agreed to assign to their party the principal offices of state, and the best subahships in the empire, they should no longer acknowledge him as the sovereign.

The question, whether, after dethroning him, Mohabet should be set up in his place, was attended, however, with greater difficulties than they had at first foreseen. It was soldiers of their party who had been despatched to Kazim’s prison, charged with the sanguinary commission they had declared. But their promised victims had either escaped, or must have been immolated by other hands. They could gain no clear or decisive information upon this point. They sometimes suspected that Bochari had concealed the emperor in some secret chamber of the palace, for the purpose of using his popularity against Mohabet, in case the latter should gain the ascendancy; but, at all events, they determined on attending the inauguration banquet, to which they had been invited, well armed. Before swearing the great oath of allegiance, they would interrogate the Persian; and if they were satisfied as to the death or abdication of the emperor, they would then compel him to concede the terms they had already talked of, or transfer the throne to Mohabet.

The latter, accompanied by about three hundred of his partizans, proceeded in a body to the palace an hour before sunset, and, entering the banquet-chamber, took their places at the tables. Bochari was duly informed of their arrival, which he heard of with a lively sense of pleasure. He looked upon it as a token of their adhesion to his cause, which, from their absence during the morning, and the whole of the day, he feared they had determined not to support any longer. Accompanied by the two hundred rajaputs, who had remained faithful to him, decked out in the most brilliant attire with which the imperial wardrobes could furnish, he proceeded at the appointed hour to the place of meeting. The silver trumpets, stationed on the fifty steps that led down to the chamber, announced the approach of the new sovereign, who, as he moved forward, surrounded by his guards, wearing the crown of Hindostan upon his head, and bearing its sceptre in his hand, assumed for the moment an appearance of real dignity, which, one would hardly have supposed, the Persian could exhibit.