Tippoo Sultaun: A tale of the Mysore war. Taylor Meadows

that the Jemadar dared not complain to him, even should his servant receive ill usage, or at any rate hard words. So he cried out lustily, ‘Ho! Madar Sahib, what seekest thou among the newly-arrived servants of the Khan? By the soul of the Prophet, thine appearance is like a bird of ill-omen—like the first vulture to a dying sheep. What has he been asking of thee?’ he said to the groom; ‘speak, and fear not.’

      ‘May I be your sacrifice,’ replied the man; ‘he did but ask about the Patél Sahib yonder,’ for so Kasim continued to be called among them.

      ‘And what wouldst thou know about me, O base-born!’ cried Kasim; ‘what am I to thee or to thy master?’

      ‘Nothing, nothing, noble sir; only my master (may his prosperity increase!) bid me ask, in order that he might know something of one whose appearance is so like that of a youth brave in war; and he saw too that your worship had been wounded, and naturally wished to know whether the Khan Sahib (may his name be exalted!) had been in any danger on the way down, which may Alla avert!’

      ‘Thy words are smooth for once,’ said Dilawur Ali, ‘and well calculated to disarm suspicion; but I know thee well, Madar Sahib, and thy master too, and I warn thee of both, Kasim. In the present case there may be no harm meant, and perhaps it is unjust to accuse or to suspect thee; but thou hadst as well take the hint, for, Inshalla! we are neither fathers of owls or of jackasses, and can see and hear as far as other people: dost thou understand?’

      ‘I will tell thee more plainly, Madar Sahib,’ said the young Patél—whose blood was fired by the thought that any one should be so soon prying into his affairs in the camp—‘that if ever I catch thee about this encampment of ours, or tampering with any of my lord the Khan’s servants, I will break every bone in thy skin: dost thou hear?’

      ‘My lord!’ began the fellow.

      ‘Nay, no more,’ continued Kasim, ‘or I may be tempted to give way to wrath; begone, in the name of the devils on whose errand thou camest. I like thee not, by Alla! thy face is like an executioner’s—a fellow who would give a brave man a cup of poison, or stab him from behind with a knife, and boast he had done some valiant deed.’

      Some others who were standing by caught the words of the young man, and laughed loudly at the truth he had so unwittingly told; and their taunts, added to the previous ones he had been obliged to hear, caused Madar to slink off as fast as possible, followed by the jeers and abuse of those who had joined in the laugh against him.

      ‘He is off like a maimed cur!’ cried one. ‘You have eaten dirt!’ cried another. ‘Alla give thee a good digestion of it, and appetite for more the next time thou comest!’

      ‘Let us seize him and cut off his beard and mustachios! such an impotent coward and prying rascal is not worthy to wear the emblems of manhood—let him be shaven like an eunuch!’ cried a masculine virago, the wife of a camel-driver, setting her arms a-kimbo, who thought it a fair opportunity to join in. ‘Return, O Madar Sahib, that I may spit on thy beard!’

      Madar did not apparently choose to accept this polite invitation, for he thought it possible that the first threat might be attempted, and the shout of laughter which followed the latter part of the speech caused him to quicken his pace considerably; and only once looking behind him, to throw a glance of hate towards those by whom he had been menaced, he pursued his way, and was soon lost in the crowd.

      ‘There goes a spiteful heart,’ said Kasim; ‘didst thou see the look he cast behind him?’

      ‘Ay, brother,’ replied Dilawur Ali; ‘thou hast said truly, he has a spiteful heart, and I could tell thee many a tale of his iniquity; but I am half sorry that we did not speak him fair.’

      ‘I am not: I would rather have an open enemy than one under the garb of civility or friendship.’

      ‘The scoundrel will tell all he has heard, and as much more as he can invent, to the Jemadar yonder.’

      ‘And what of that?’ said Kasim; ‘what have I to fear?’

      ‘This is no place to speak of him,’ said his friend; ‘come to my tent, I will tell thee much of him.’

      And truly the account the worthy Syud gave of the Jemadar was not calculated in any way to allay fear, if any had existed in Kasim’s heart: for it was one of deceit, of villainy often successful, of constant intrigue, and of cruel revenge; but the young man’s fearless spirit only made light of these, which might have disquieted a more experienced person; and he asked gaily,

      ‘But what makest thee think that he bears me any enmity? we have as yet hardly seen each other.’

      ‘I know it from his vile face, Kasim. While the Khan often spoke to thee kindly in his presence, his eyes wandered to thee with a bad expression, and they no sooner left thee than he and that Sontaburdar of his exchanged furtive glances. I was watching them, for I saw at once he would be jealous of thee.’

      ‘He may do his worst,’ said Kasim, ‘I care not.’ But in spite of this expression, his heart was not quite so free of care about what had happened as it had been before he had heard Dilawur Ali’s stories.

      Madar returned, burning with spiteful and revengeful feelings, and with much excitement visible in his countenance, he rushed into his master’s presence and flung his turban on the ground, while he gnashed his teeth in rage.

      ‘What news hast thou, Madar? What has been done to thee? speak, good man. What has happened?’

      ‘Judge if I have not cause to be revenged, Khodawund: I am less than a dog; and may my grave be unblessed if I do not avenge the insults I have suffered both for myself and you, O my lord!’

      ‘Why, what has happened?’

‘I tell you, you have been reviled by that son of perdition Dilawur Ali, and the boy whom that old fool the Khan has brought with him. Hear, Jemadar Sahib, what they said; they said they would—Inshalla!’ and Madar twisted up his mustachios fiercely as he spoke, ‘defile your beard, and throw dirt on it; they called you a coward and less than man. They said they did not value you a broken couree; and they threatened to beat me, to break every bone in my skin; and set up a vile woman, one without shame, with an uncovered face, to abuse me in vile terms, to call me an eunuch, and to threaten to shave my beard and mustachios; and this before a thousand others, loochas and shodas^[26] like themselves. But I will be revenged. Ya Alla! ya Hoosein! ya Hyder!’ he cried, as he took up his turban which he had thrown down in his passion, and began to tie it awry upon his head. ‘I will be revenged!’

      26. Dissolute vagabonds.

      ‘They said this?—Ah, Kumbukht!’—cried the Jemadar, who had heard out his servant’s tale with some difficulty—‘they said it—and thou hadst ears to hear it? Alla! Alla! am I a sheep or a cow to bear this?—I who am, Inshalla! a tiger, an eater of men’s hearts—before whom men’s livers turn to water—that I should be obliged to devour such abomination! What ho! Furashes! any one without there! go, bring Dilawur Ali, Duffadar, and—But no,’ he said mentally, checking the torrent of passion; ‘it cannot be so. I have no authority now to punish, and they would defy me; the Khan would take fire in a moment if he heard I had been inquiring into the station of this proud youth—whom, Inshalla! I will yet humble.’

      ‘Go,’ he continued to the servants, who had suddenly entered the tent; ‘when I want you I will call again; at present I would be alone with Madar.’

      ‘And so thou heardest all this abuse of me, and ate dirt thyself, and had not the heart to say a word or strike a blow in return! I could spit on thee, coward!’

      ‘May I be your sacrifice, Khodawund, I was helpless; what could I have done in that crowd? had I only returned a word, the woman whom they set up would have poured filthy abuse on me.’

      ‘They shall rue the day that they uttered the words thou hast repeated: Madar, they shall wish their tongues had never said them, and that their hearts had eaten them, ere they