A Noble Queen (Vol. 1-3). Taylor Meadows

watched through the night without food or relief from pain. "What am I to him?" she thought, sadly; "but I am only a child, only a child."

      And the hot day passed, and they fanned the sleeper gently. The old Dervish, when he awoke, examined his patient carefully, and was satisfied. Nothing could induce Runga to leave his post, but having bathed hurriedly in the holy river, he ate a little of the dame's good mess, drank some of the cooling sherbet, and was refreshed. The Nawab had turned back as he had been bidden to do, but he sent continual messages of inquiry, and was told in reply that the youth still slept. So the day passed in perfect quiet to all, and when the sun was declining, and the birds were coming to rest, the young Khan woke quietly.

      At first he could not remember where he was, or what had happened, and his first glance rested upon Zóra, who was gently fanning him, and he said, almost in a whisper, "Who art thou? I know thee; thou art the angel that came to me in the night and gave me sherbet of Paradise. Who art thou?"

      "I am only Zóra," she said, modestly, while she covered her face with her scarf, as if for the first time she became aware that a man gazed at her. "But you are not to speak, sir; I am bid not to let you speak; close your eyes and sleep again."

      "No," he said; "I have slept enough, and the burning fever hath departed."

      "She is right, Meeah," said Runga Naik, bending over him. "Sleep now, again, for danger is past, and Huzrut says you will live. When you wake again you may have some light food."

      "Runga, thou here! I thought I saw thee in a dream, and had thy hand in mine. But why is thy head bandaged?"

      "'Tis only a scratch, and the Huzrut has dressed it," he replied. "I will tell thee all another time. I am well of it now that I hear thy voice."

      "It seems all like a hideous dream, Runga; the fight, the ride through those billows of heat and dust; and I remember, too, seeing a cataract, and seething water below, tossing like horses fighting. Who told me that? And then I thought I was on a raft, dancing on the waves, and thou supporting me; and I swooned, and remember no more except the angel who came to me and cooled my parching thirst."

      "Enough!" cried Zóra, stamping her little foot. "Do I not tell thee thou art not to speak? Art thou mad?"

      The oddity of the child's vehemence, and her tone of absolute command, seemed to amuse the sufferer, for he smiled gratefully as he looked up at her.

      "Yes, fairy face," he said, "I will try to sleep again, and do thou come to me in my dreams."

      The next day, however, the Nawab was not to be silenced. His physician had arrived from Moodgul, and having visited the wounded man, declared that he might now be removed to the upper fort in a closed litter with safety, and that the comparative freshness of the air of the citadel would conduce to his recovery. Towards evening, therefore, the young Khan took his departure, promising to return to see them when he was able.

      CHAPTER III.

       THE PRIESTS OF MOODGUL.

       Table of Contents

      The town of Moodgul is situated in the western division of the district which lies between the Krishna river to the north and the Toongbaddra river to the south, and has always been a place of importance in the country. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries it was a never-failing object of contention between the Hindoos of Beejanugger and the Mussulman kings of the Dekhan, and many a bloody action between immense armies on both sides had been fought near it for its possession, and that of its dependencies. Ráichoor, the capital of the eastern portion of the Dooab, as the province was called, was at that time of comparatively small importance, and Moodgul was the capital of the province and the seat of the local Government. The league of the Mussulman kings of the Dekhan against the Maharajah of Beejanugger terminated in a desperate action called the battle of Talicota by historians, but which was fought in December 1569, on the south bank of the Krishna, about thirty miles west of Moodgul. The destruction of the Hindoo kingdom ensued, and at the period of this tale the town and its fortress were in quiet possession of the Mussulmans, who have still retained it. It was then the chief station of the south-western province of the Beejapoor kingdom, and a very considerable force was always stationed there ready to act against any disturbance of the frontier, and to overawe the various military tribes of Beydurs and others, who, though they paid tribute and professed allegiance to the Mussulman Government, were yet turbulent and often defiant, and much given to marauding, cattle lifting, and other nefarious practices.

      Even now, ruined as it is for the most part, the fort of Moodgul is a striking and picturesque object. Built partly by the Hindoos and partly by the Mussulmans, it occupies the summit of a group of singularly fantastic granite rocks, which seem to have been raised one upon another, but which belong to one of the great eruptions that took place at some immensely remote period. They are quite isolated, and rise from a level plain, which is fertile to their very base. Necessarily the fort is of very irregular construction, advantage having been taken of the highest accessible portions of the rocks on which to build bastions, while the intervals between each group are closed by single, double, and treble rows of curtains and bastions, as the ground requires. On the north side is a considerable tank, or lake, for irrigation, which is still perfect, and affords means of cultivation of a tract of land; and there are many groves of fine mango and tamarind trees about its shores, which soften the otherwise rugged character of the landscape, and above which the rocks and towers of the fort rise with very picturesque effect. The town lies to the eastward of the fort, and is still tolerably populous; but the ruins on every side show that the prosperity of the place was at one time much greater than at present, and the fort itself is utterly deserted: many of its proud towers and long portions of the curtains have become heaps of ruins, and those that remain only show how strong the citadel must have been in the early times we write of. The place was famous for two kinds of manufactures: one of weaving cotton fabrics of all kinds, for which the adjacent parts of the province furnished ample material; the other, of a kind of camlet blankets, some beautifully fine and others coarse, woven from yarn spun from the fleeces of the large herds of sheep which were tended on the wide plains by local shepherds—a powerful and numerous clan, which, though ostensibly following a peaceful, industrious calling, had notwithstanding taken part in local wars and the defence of their fort; and both weavers and shepherds remain still in their normal condition.

      It will be deemed strange, perhaps, that these shepherds and blanket weavers were Christians at the period of this tale, and that they have continued faithful through all vicissitudes to the present time. At what exact period they were converted, or by whom, is not precisely known, but a Jesuit monk belonging to the mission of St. Francis Xavier had penetrated to Moodgul, gathered the shepherds about him, and, preaching to them in their own language—Canarese—had converted and baptised them, and they proved steadfast and obedient. In the town of Ráichoor other conversions followed, chiefly among the potters, and there were, and still are, smaller congregations in other villages; but the most numerous flock was that of Moodgul, and the church there is pre-eminently the head of all others in the province. The building itself is a small one with a tiled roof, and in the Goanesque style of architecture, and there are two supplementary chapels. The decorations of the cathedral, as it may be called, are poor and tawdry enough; but there is, or was, one picture of the Virgin by some Portuguese artist which has merit. There are schools attached to the mission in which Canarese is taught, and which are presided over by the priest, if he be present, or, in his absence, by one of the deacons.

      King Ibrahim Adil Shah I., who died in 1557, was the first benefactor to the mission by recognising it, and conferring lands upon it by his Royal deeds of grant; and Ally Adil Shah followed, with settlements of money from the customs duties and other sources, which have hitherto been respected by local and general rulers. Dues are also collected from the congregation, both in money and in kind, and in all respects the mission is self-supporting and independent. The service, when by a priest, is generally in Latin; but the offices of the church have been translated into excellent Canarese, as also homilies, which are preached, and selections from the Old and New Testament. Portions of these are read on saints' days and other solemn