A Noble Queen. Taylor Meadows

not come. Hark! they are calling."

      "Here; I am here," she continued. "Is Zóra with you?"

      "No! we will tell thee;" and they hurried forward. But when they entered the house it was no easy matter to break the tidings they brought to Zóra's grandfather. He sat trembling and speechless at first. His darling gone, only to be returned to him dishonoured and impure. His little Zóra, his beloved, his stay and support; and he blind and aged. His fairy-face, his apt scholar, all the endearing terms he had ever spoken, came from him with sighs and groans. "Oh!" he cried, "if she were only dead, so that she were pure; but polluted!"

      No one could offer a word of comfort, and the pán seller and his wife could devise no means of consolation.

      "Let me go to him!" cried the Syud, passionately, as he rose up. "Give me my sword, I will cut him down on his own threshold—before his slaves. Let him kill me! Ah, that would be welcome, now honour is gone! Dishonoured!" he exclaimed, after a pause. "Dishonoured! Pain has come, blindness has come, and helplessness and poverty, but never dishonour. Yea, O merciful God, I would die, I would die! O friends, take me to him, that he may slay me."

      It was no use trying to soothe this incoherent raving, and they let it have its course, till the old Syud was nearly exhausted; then Hoosein-bee brought him a cup of water, and he drank it greedily. "I am ready to go," he said, "let us depart;" and he tried to wind his scarf about his waist, and groped for his staff.

      "Huzrut," said Peeroo, speaking for the first time, "what the good Alla sends us we must bear; and thou, our teacher, and a man devoted to His service, ought to show us an example. Listen, Zóra is not harmed yet, and no harm can come to her but from violence from thee. I have thought over all my wife told me, and we must get the child away while she is safe. If the Nika be said, neither thou nor any of us can help her. When Ahmed heard what my wife said, he drew his sword and swore he would go and kill the Nawab or die. Foolish man! His head would have been off his shoulders in the twinkle of an eye, and his body cast out to the jackals, and vultures, and kites. I made him reasonable, and he put up his weapon. Then we consulted. 'No one can help her but Runga Naik,' said I. 'That is a blessed thought,' said he. 'Someone must go for Runga,' I said; and Ahmed said someone must go; and we sat with our fingers between our teeth thinking. Then my wife said, 'What are you thinking about? There is only one man, and that is Kaloo, the Beydur; send him.' Kaloo is a true man, Huzrut; and would go through fire and water to serve thee, Huzrut, and Zóra, for ye saved his child. Well, Ahmed went for Kaloo, and we told him how the matter stood. 'I know the way into the zenana by the broken wall,' he said, 'and I will go and stab the Nawab in his sleep; who will know of it? I am not a Beydur if I fail.' Well, we thought this would do, but my wife said, 'Let there be no murder, it would bring a curse on Zóra. Leave the Nawab to Alla and his destiny. Send for Runga.' And Kaloo said, 'Yes, it is good, and I will go for him. He is at Kukeyra, I know, for I ought to have been with him; they have a play there, and will be up all night. I will call on him to come in the name of the Syud, and if he won't, I can only return and kill the Nawab as he is asleep.' 'Very good,' we said; 'if there is no other remedy thou shalt slay the Nawab;' and he bound up his loins, took his bundle of gourds from the roof, and his sword and shield, and is gone: he will be far across the river by this time, and by daylight Runga will be here. That is what we have done, Huzrut, and here is Ahmed to speak for himself."

      "It was all my fault, Huzrut," exclaimed the worthy fellow, bowing his head between the old Syud's knees, and sobbing. "I ought never to have left her, but I was afraid, and she knew Johur so well. It was true the Nawab wanted me, but it was an idle message to the Moolla that he wanted him; and I was going up to say he could not come then, when I met Goolab-bee, and she told me all. So, my prince, thou must be patient, and wait for Runga. Inshalla! all will be well. He and his men are able to take a man and his bed up, as he sleeps, and carry them so that he never wakes. Kaloo is gone, and we shall hear by daylight what comes of his errand. Let me see; three hours to Kukeyra, and it is now the first watch of the night. Then three hours to return, and perhaps an hour there. Men can't fly you know, my prince; but Runga Naik and Kaloo are no laggards. Let Peeroo go; I and Goolab-bee will watch by you till daylight."

      "Ye are kind, ye are kind," said the Syud, "but there should be no murder. If I should never see my child again, let there be no murder. Let him live, and let the just Alla deal with him as He listeth. But, O Zóra! O my child! may all be well with thee, for I am helpless and blind, very helpless."

      "Give him his opium," whispered Goolab to Hoosein, "and let him sleep." It was a merciful thought, for the aged man slept quietly through the night. As day was near the dawn, he woke, but felt as it were stunned by his great grief. "Zóra!" he cried, "get me water for the ablution, it is day." Then he remembered his great sorrow. "Zóra! who told me she was with the Nawab? Is it so, or have I had an evil dream?"

      "Why should we tell you a lie, father?" said Hoosein-bee "Zóra is not here, she is in the palace. God help her!"

      "Yes," returned the Syud, "she is dishonoured," and he lay down again and moaned piteously. "O my darling! wert thou dead and in honour I should mourn thee till I die. Now, what will become of me? Alla! merciful Alla! send thine angel quickly, that he may take my spirit; behold thine aged servant is ready. I will await him," he murmured softly, "let him come;" and he lay down again, turned to the wall, and covered his face.

      "I think he will die," said Goolab, wiping her eyes; "the shock has been too great for him."

      "It were perhaps better he should die than hear of further misery," said her companion. "Why do not they come? Runga Naik should be faithful."

      Hoosein-bee had hardly spoken, when she heard the door of the outer court opened gently, and the voice of Ahmed, who had been watching without, speaking to some others. After a few moments he entered the room, and said, "Is he not awake? Runga is here! Is he to come in?"

      "Runga!" cried the Syud, rising on his arm; "ah! he alone can save the child: let him come. Save her, friend," he continued, attempting to get up, as he heard Runga Naik enter. "Save her, and she will bless thee. And I—what can I do—who am blind?"

      "Give me your blessing," returned the Beydur; "put your hands on my head, and I shall not fail. If I return not with Zóra, believe that I am dead. Have no care how we bring her, but ere the morning breaks to-morrow thou shalt have her in thy arms. Under God's help we will bring her to thee."

      "But there will be bloodshed—murder, perhaps. O Runga, shed not blood!"

      "It would be easy for me, with fifty good fellows, to hide in the panthers' dens, and carry the palace before any one knew of us," returned Runga, laughing; "but no force is needed, only contrivance, unless violence has been done; and then the Nawab dies. Nor would it be justice to save him. We Beydurs often take justice into our own hands if we can get it by no other means; and who can say we are wrong?"

      "And who will protect us if thou bring Zóra here? I cannot help her."

      "It is a sad thing, father," returned the Beydur. "Listen! but I must speak boldly. If I bring her, ye cannot stay here; ye must come with me. Across the water the Nawab and his slaves have no power, and there a thousand good swords and guns are ready to protect ye both. But wilt thou come, even for a while? Zóra and you saved his life whom I love, and shall I abandon you to grief?"

      "Let it all go, though I loved it. I am but a Fakeer, and fear no change, for Alla will keep me."

      "We will take what we can with us, Huzrut; and now lie down again and sleep, for we have much to do. When art thou going to the palace, Goolab-bee?" he asked of her. "Come with me, and I will explain what is to be done;" and he took her out into the court. "Ahmed tells me thou art true," he said, "else I am silent; but thou canst do much."

      "She and Abba saved my child, my Pearoo, and I would go through fire for her," was the reply. "I am going up the hill at sunrise to deliver my first bundle of pán, and I shall see her. In the afternoon I go again. What am I to say?"

      "Tell the child not to sleep, not to eat; 'tis but a day's fast. At the third watch of the night two great owls will hoot near the wall of the kitchen where it is broken. If she comes after the third hoot, well; if not, I will come for her. Where is she?"