Akbar Part 13

"But, dear Rezia," said Siddha, making a faint attempt to conceal under a cheerful voice the uneasiness that was mastering him, "even if this should be so, what is it to you? and what moves you to speak to me of it?"

"My own interests; but also the interest I take in you, my friend. I told you, as you will remember, of a friend who was exposed here to certain persecution. But now I will confess; I deceived you--it was not a friend, it was myself. The husband to whom my father's cruel command gave me, and whose tyranny I detest, will soon return, and my own desire is to fly from him, to be free, and some day perhaps in safety to be able to give myself to the one I choose; and to attain this I sought Kashmir as my place of refuge, and opened a communication with some of my friends there. But should this country also become subject to Akbar, my hope vanishes and I know not where to turn. Quickly you will again see me in the power of this man, who has my fate in his hands; our happy meetings will be at an end; and Rezia will cease to exist for you, as you," she added, with a slight sigh, "will for her."

"Never!" cried Siddha, pa.s.sionately; "that shall never happen. But what would you have? what means do you know of? what do you ask of me?"

"Only this," replied Rezia, calmly, "that you should not allow yourself to be used as a tool against your own country, against yourself, against me. Remain by your own brave followers; but when the decisive day comes, do not lead them against us; but know how to go over to those of us, who, in spite of outward show of subjection to the Emperor, have a secret understanding. Then a powerful party in Kashmir will side with you, support you by their influence, and raise you to the greatest honour; and in the end, though that is of less importance, you will find a resting-place in my arms, who will ever be grateful to you for your protection."

"But," said Siddha, following, among all other plans and proposals, the thread of his own thought, "that would be treachery of the worst kind against the Emperor who has trusted me."

"Certainly, treachery," answered Rezia, with a contemptuous laugh. "As the Emperor has shown you some favour, he naturally has a full right to use you as a tool against your country and people, but you have not the right to repay him in the same coin. Now be subject--or slave! However, act as you please. Your a.s.surances that you would do all I asked were nothing but the vain promises men are wont to make to simple women. But enough! Let our interview come to an end; not that I wish it, but it is better with firm resolution to part from one another, than to continue our intercourse only to see it inevitably broken off a few days later against our will."

"Never!" said Siddha, as Rezia turned from him, as though to hide her grief. "Nothing shall part us, and if for a moment I hesitated, I did not deceive you when I promised to do whatever you might ask. I repeat it, command and I obey."

"Your word."

"My word as a Rajput. But why do you ask it? you know well that I can do nothing but what you wish. Why should I keep silence respecting that which you must long have known? At last let me say freely, that you are dear to me, above everything, dearer than life or even honour. I love you with a pa.s.sion and devotion that until now I should never have thought possible; I believed I knew what love was, but what I took for it was only a childish liking. You have taught me differently; teach me more; teach me what it is when love like mine is returned. No slave can be more submissive to the will of his master than I to you; no slave of Akbar's or of any one but yourself. Whatever I may gain in the future, rank, esteem, riches, belong to you alone. And the power you have over me you may use or misuse as you will. But be mine, Rezia, mine as long as life lasts!"

"No, Siddha," said she, softly withdrawing her hand from him, "it is not fitting that I should hear such language, nor that you should use it. Remember that I am not yet free, and you yourself have other ties."

"Other ties!" cried Siddha, pa.s.sionately; "I break them, or rather I broke them long ago; and could I not do so, I should curse the day when they were laid on me. And you, if you are not free, I will soon make you so. We will fly to Kashmir, to that far-away, beautiful country in the north, where, as you say, Siddha Rama's name and influence is well known, and where none will dare to injure you whom I protect, your hated husband least of all."

"And will that protection avail against Akbar and his favourites?" asked Rezia.

"Against him and his, as against all others," was the proud reply; "and against him we shall know well how to defend the liberty of Kashmir, if it were only for a place of refuge for you and for me."

"But I cannot be yours," interrupted Rezia; "and it grieves me, in truth, that you have so spoken this evening. You might have spared us all this, and then our friendly intercourse might have continued, and led perhaps later to another and a closer tie. Now all must cease, however deeply it grieves me. Go now, say farewell, and forget me, it is better for you and--for me, whom you say you love."

"In truth," said Siddha, as he rose, and, with his head sank on his breast, drew back a few steps, "to part at once is perhaps the wisest course. I see but too plainly that my love is despised. It is true that for me, without you, there is no life, no happiness possible. Still the continued martyrdom of meeting you, day by day, loving you more dearly, and yet knowing that you belong to that hated, cursed stranger, is more than I can bear. Fresh disturbances have broken out in the south, in the Dakhin, and the Emperor has ordered part of the army on service there. I will implore him to let me join them; and there in battle with the wild mountain races I may soon find, not forgetfulness, that is impossible, but an early and longed-for death."

"Ah, Siddha," said sadly the sweet, loved voice, "why such violence because a weak woman (who finds the strife against herself and her own heart too much for her) seeks for a moment's strength to withstand you? It is, as you said, better that we should part, and yet--I cannot let you go; remain, it is but a short pause; seat yourself again by my side, and let me enjoy, even though it may be for the last time, that quiet conversation, undisturbed by pa.s.sion, that until now we have found so much pleasure in."

And before Siddha was quite aware of what he did, he was again seated by the side of her who had so mastered his whole mind and understanding. At her desire he seized the lute that lay beside them, and tried to bring back to his recollection one of the songs of his native land, for which, in the winning way peculiar to her, she had begged; but vainly he tried, sometimes beginning and then breaking off, his memory failed him, and dejectedly he laid down the useless lute.

"I know no more," he said. "I can neither think nor remember."

"How now, my singer," said Rezia, laughing; "must I set you the example? But let us first drink to one another." And lifting a golden goblet to her lips, she made Siddha empty his, and then began, in soft, melting tones, a Persian love song that soon brought Siddha back to himself.

"Now, then," cried he, as Rezia finished, and he began the description of a lover's reception from Kalidasa's "Seasons," [82] "The Bride represented by the Return of Summer."

The singer ceased, and she who listened to him had drawn nearer, gazing at him with her fascinating eyes, that now shone with an unwonted glow. Suddenly he seized both her hands, and drew her to him with irresistible force.

"Rezia," he said, "Rezia, be to me as Kalidasa's bride--now and always mine!"

She softly murmured Siddha's name and flung her arms around his neck.

More than once since that evening a manly figure might have been seen in the darkness of night carefully looking around him, and then following the cactus road that led to the dwelling of the Armenian. Iravati's lotus flower had struck against the frail vessel on which he had embarked, and had been wrecked by a sultry wind.

CHAPTER VIII.

A TEMPTER.

Once more the lovely lady of Allahabad sat on the balcony looking out towards the far-away mountains, from whence, now long ago, had approached the eagerly awaited one. Nothing had changed since that time: the same calm, silver waters and thick shade of trees, and far beyond the mountain tops, while the same cloudless sunshine lighted up the whole landscape. Ah! if only he were as unchanged--he that now took part in all the dissipation of the court and the many pleasures of the great city. Did he still think of her, and daily regard her likeness as she did his? These doubts, that had involuntarily arisen in her mind, appeared to Iravati an injury to the man whom she esteemed as highly as she loved him, and who at their last interview had so fervently pledged his word to her, and had repeated the same promises in his letters. But these had now for some time ceased. And why did he not return to her? Could he remain so long parted without making any effort to see her again, even if it were but for a day? Without doubt his duty prevented him, and he was not yet able to obtain leave of absence. But oh! how long was the time, and how the days and hours appeared to creep, as she waited and watched alone!

As on that morning long ago, her musings were interrupted by the appearance of her father the Governor.

"Iravati," he said, in his usual measured tones, "a guest has arrived."

He had come, then; he already awaited her; and her whole heart was filled with impatient joy, but of which she showed no trace.

"A guest," continued Salhana, "that for you to receive will be as great an honour as a pleasure. It is Salim the Prince, who, in obedience to his father's wishes, comes to pa.s.s some time at Allahabad."

With a great effort Iravati concealed her bitter disappointment; but to speak was to her impossible.

"Well," asked Salhana, "is not the news welcome to you? There are many who would give all they possess to enjoy the honour that awaits you. Naturally I do not wish that any of the Prince's followers should see you, but the future emperor is different; and it may be of importance both to me and to Siddha that you should gain his favour. Follow me."

As Iravati and her father entered the gallery where Salim was, he advanced to meet and greet her with his usual light-hearted courtesy. But suddenly all his boldness deserted him, and he stood still and silent. Such a n.o.ble bearing, mingled with so much modesty, beauty so grave, with an expression so winning and lovely, he never remembered to have seen in any other woman; and, contrary to his custom, he waited until Salhana had presented his daughter before greeting her.

"n.o.ble lady," he said, "I am indeed grateful to you for the trouble you have given yourself in coming to welcome your guest. I have heard of you more than once, and--" but the courteous phrase that trembled on his lips appeared too insipid and meaningless, and he continued--at the moment not being able to find any better speech--"It is indeed a pleasure to make your personal acquaintance."

"The honour shown by your Highness to my father and to me, I prize highly," answered Iravati; "and I trust you will not find our quiet town at Allahabad too dull in comparison with the capital, with its many pleasures and diversions."

"If," returned Salim, "the n.o.ble daughter of the Governor will sometimes give me the pleasure of her company, I need not fear that my sojourn in Allahabad will be tedious. But you speak of the capital; you know it, I hope?"

"I have never been in Agra," was the answer.

"Never?" said Salim; "it is indeed time, my worthy Salhana, that your talented daughter should see more of the world than is possible in this remote fortress."

"The time will come," answered the Governor, "when my daughter is under the protection of her intended husband, my future son-in-law, whom your Highness has received with so much kindness."

Whether this recollection did not please the Prince it was difficult to discover, but he at once became silent and knitted his dark eyebrows; and when he spoke again it was on quite another subject. The conversation continued for some time longer, and then Salhana gave his daughter leave to return to her own apartment, and with a deep reverence, Iravati took her leave, rejoicing that the interview was over. The only impression left on her mind by the Emperor's son was the magnificence of his attire, although Salim himself only regarded it as a simple travelling costume.

A few minutes later, Salim, the Governor, and a third person were seated in one of the inner apartments of the fortress, well secured from all intruders or listeners, engaged, apparently, in consulting over more important questions than how time should best be spent at Allahabad. The third person was Gorakh, the priest of Durga.

"The good for which we strive, my friends," began the Prince, "seems nearer; and it appears to me that it would be wise to consider the present state of affairs, and then to think what further preparations had better be made. You, Salhana, are, I believe, the best informed of us three; as for me, at the court much is suspected, and I come here in obedience to the wish, or rather the command, of my father. Abu-l Fazl--may Alla curse him!--is, I know, at the bottom of this; but I hope one day to have the opportunity of repaying him. And now for you, Salhana."

"I must say," he began, "that all now goes according to our wishes. In Agra, Delhi, Lah.o.r.e, and other places, are the true Muhammadan Umaras and other n.o.bles embittered to the utmost against the Emperor, through the contempt he shows for their religion and by reason of the loss of many privileges of which he has deprived them. Nothing will be more welcome than a revolution, and many will join it; including more than one of the princ.i.p.al mansabdars. Abdul Kadir has been of great use in all this, but we must not count much on him; he wishes to act openly, and every now and then misgivings come over him of what he calls treachery."

"And your nephew?" asked Salim.

"Is entirely one of us. How he has been won over matters not; it is enough that so it is. I had at first destined him as a spy on Akbar, but soon saw that he would be worthless as such; he is too simple, and too strictly brought up according to Kulluka's ideas, to be of any avail for such a role; and then, too, Akbar entirely won him over, in his usual manner, at their first meeting. But in another way he will do us better service: he has obtained the rank of mansabdar, and will soon have the chance of further advancement; so when the time fixed on comes, he will be in command of an important body of Rajputs; and in Kashmir his name has great influence. Then, when our plan is carried out, his co-operation will be of no slight importance. At the chosen moment he will turn his troops against the Imperialists, and doubtless his example will be followed by the greater part of the Rajputs and Patans."

"But now the plan itself, as it concerns Kashmir?" asked Salim again.