The Great Mogul Part 16

"To the court of the mighty Akbar, O protector of the poor."

"Hath he been long in these parts?"

"I know not, huzoor. I am a poor man--"

"Treat him easily, Roger," put in Walter. "See now, brother, here is a rupee for thee. How is thy master known?"

"He is called the Fire-Father," answered the native, rea.s.sured by the sight of the money and the relaxation of Roger's grip. "They say he earned the name from the Emperor himself, because once, when a _moullah_ disputed with him, the black-robed one challenged the _moullah_ to enter with him into a raging fire. The one would carry the Koran and the other a Book by which he sets great store. Then, he said, it would readily be seen whether Mahomet or He whom he calls Christ were the more powerful.

But the _moullah_ hung back, and the Emperor laughed, I have been told."

"Aye," said Roger in English, "he has faith enough and to spare, I warrant ye. Anyone who believes that Spain can win her way in England will believe owt. And as for fire, G.o.d wot, he hath the stomach of a salamander for it. Now, had I been the _moullah_, I would have bid him go first into the flames, when, an he survived the ordeal, Mahmoud should be scouted as a rank impostor."

They could obtain little further information from the servant so they bade him hasten after his master, and, to still his tongue, Walter gave him another silver coin.

Though the presence of Dom Geronimo in Agra was an omen of bad fortune, they agreed, in converse over a meal of which they were much in need, that his animosity would be exerted in vain if they maintained the good relations already established with the Emperor. Akbar was renowned for his religious tolerance. The tale told by the native was one of many which revealed this generous trait in a ruler deservedly ent.i.tled "the Great." The Jesuits, coming to India in the wake of the Portuguese, were already well established in Agra, where they were then building a splendid church. They and the Capuchins, composed, for the most part, of learned and truly pious men, not only commanded respect by their discretion and Christian meekness, but won the admiration of the educated cla.s.ses by their scientific knowledge. It was probable that the religious zeal of a fanatic like Dom Geronimo would be restrained by his wiser brethren. His intemperate language had earned him a typical _soubriquet_, which stood out in curious contrast to the charity of the doctrines preached by eminent missionaries like Father Joseph d'Acosta, a Portuguese, and Father Henri Busee, a Fleming.

"I have heard," said Mowbray, expounding some such theory to Roger, "that the Emperor once became impatient at the reproaches of the _moullahs_, who were ever denying him the use of certain meats and wines. 'If these things are forbidden by the Koran,' said he, 'according to what religion can a man eat and drink as he likes?' 'That is the teaching of the Christians alone,' said they. 'Then let us all turn Christians,' said Akbar. 'Let tailors convert our loose garments into closer fitting coats, and fashion our turbans into hats.' He frightened them, and they all declared that, however it might be for common men, the Koran did not affect the sovereign."

"Be that as it may," said Sainton, "and the tale is not unlike some in vogue about our own Jamie, I am a believer in portents. Here we are in Agra, and not a whole day before we run up against a girl and a black robe. In London--"

"You will anger me, Roger," cried Walter in sudden heat, "if you speak thus of Nellie Roe and Nur Mahal in the same breath."

"Ecod, you flare up in the twinkling of a quart pot, the sheer name of which gives me a thirst. What the devil! has it not a queer semblance to magic, to say the least?"

Mowbray grudgingly admitted so much, but their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a messenger who, on behalf of Sher Afghan, apologized very handsomely for his master's apparent rudeness in leaving them so hastily at the palace, and invited them to the wedding ceremony that night at the residence of the Diwan.

"Here is a spark in a hurry to light a bonfire," cried Roger when he disentangled the request from a maze of compliments.

"'Twas the Emperor's command," said Mowbray, dubiously. "I suppose we must go. He befriended us greatly, though I hold it the wiser thing to send a civil excuse."

He rose to bid their servants prepare their best attire, and Roger eyed him with a smile.

"Aye, aye," he murmured to himself. "Everything goes the same old gait, as the man said when he tried a second wife. Here we are, off to the feasting. Thank the Lord! if there be fighting to follow I shall not be snared this time like an owl in daylight."

Indeed, the first visible indications of any unusual event in progress, when they crossed the bridge of boats before gaining the pavilion in the Garden of Heart's Delight, savored far more of a campaign than of a wedding. There were guards there, mounted and on foot, who challenged all comers. The Englishmen had taken the precaution to detain Sher Afghan's messenger, and he was useful now in preserving them from questioning and delay. Clearly, the Persian warrior obeyed his master's behests to the letter. He not only knew the importance of speedy fulfilment of an order, but he did not disdain to use all requisite means to carry it out.

Outside the gates stood a troop of horse, the stalwart _sowars_ being either Rajputs or Punjabi Mahomedans, as both of these warrior races found favor at the court of Akbar. The transient gleams of flitting lanterns fell on their accouterments, and revealed the presence of several litters, destined, the young men thought, for the comfortable conveyance of Nur Mahal and her attendant women to the bridegroom's far-off domain at Burdwan.

Within the peaceful garden a different spectacle presented itself. The Diwan's vast household had used every effort to make a brave display notwithstanding the short notice given. A myriad little lamps festooned the trees or bordered the ornamental waters and flower-beds, whilst the main avenue from the gate to the house was brightened by Chinese lanterns and carpeted with rose leaves.

The guests were conducted, by a new way, to yet another portion of the magnificent garden, and here they were suddenly introduced to a spectacle which held them spellbound for a little while.

In the midst of a green plot was an artificial lake, square, and protected by a small and beautifully carved white marble bal.u.s.trade.

From each side ran a causeway to a circular island in the center, its surface almost wholly occupied by an exquisite marble _baraduri_, or summer-house. The delicate fantasy of the structure might have been designed by some Florentine artist. Inlaid with jasper, carnelian and agate, it rose with superb grace from the setting of the dreamy lake, whilst the causeways of dark red sandstone enhanced its pearl-like sheen in the rays of the innumerable rows of tiny oil lamps which ran along every cornice and bedecked each tier of the plinth.

Fountains played in the lake itself, and the shimmering waters reflected now the starry gleams of the lights, and again the solemn shadows of a row of tall cypress trees, standing in stately order in the background and silhouetted against the unimaginable blue of an Eastern sky by night.

In the _baraduri_ a band of native musicians were squatted on a rich carpet. They made a deafening row with _sitar_ and _daf-thakri_, _murchang_ and _mirdang_, instruments with sounds as barbarous as their names, but capable, perhaps, of soul-stirring music to ears tuned to their torture. Near them, covered with heavy cloaks, sat a bevy of nautch-girls, who, when the married pair had set forth on their first march, would be summoned to the warmer rooms inside the mansion, to dance there and sing their love songs until dawn.

Between the lake and the house stood a mighty elephant, eleven feet high at least. His enormous proportions were magnified by a great silver _howdah_ with roof and curtains, and by the long trappings of scarlet cloth, embroidered with gold thread, which swept down his ma.s.sive flanks nearly to the ground.

That this fine brute was to provide the triumphal car for Sher Afghan and his wife was evident, when, in a covered court beyond, Mowbray and Sainton saw the Diwan and Sher Afghan entertaining a number of native gentlemen. Active servants, clad solely in white, threw garlands of jasmine round the neck of each guest or offered golden salvers of _pan supari_, the savory betel leaf so dear to Eastern taste. There was expectancy in the air. The bride would soon come forth and pa.s.s forever from the enchanted garden.

Itimad-ud-Daula received them with grave courtesy, and Sher Afghan, who seemed in no wise disturbed by the known fact that Nur Mahal hated the sight of him, made his English friends welcome.

"I have met few of your nation," he said to Mowbray, "but my heart has never gone out to a stranger as to you and your brother. You shall not suffer because I leave Agra. I have spoken to the Diwan concerning your affairs. Rest content for a little while. When matters are settled over there--" and he nodded scornfully towards the palace--"he will bring you forward again. You may be obliged to wait a month or two for your money.

The Diwan will advise you of this, and you may trust him. If it be so, come to me at Burdwan, and I shall show you how to kill a tiger."

"How little can a man see into the future," confided Walter to Sainton when the Persian was called away. "You will perceive, Roger, that we should have missed a good deal had we not come hither to-night."

"He talks of the killing of tigers, but I vow he will first have the taming of one," said Roger. "Here comes the bride. Saw you ever such a spitfire? Soul of my body, I'd liefer charge a row of spears than climb into yon silver turret by her side. Yet Sher Afghan is a proper man, a finer fellow by half than the spleenish Jahangir!"

"Perchance she cares little for either, but would sell her happiness for a diadem."

"She looks a quean of that sort. I ken nowt of love, such as folk make songs about, but my mother always tellt me never to wed a la.s.s for a dowry. She said it bred a heap of mischief and few fine bairns."

Walter laughed, discreetly enough, but, at that instant, Nur Mahal, who had imperiously flung aside her veil and was preparing to mount into the howdah on the kneeling elephant, looked straight at him.

Her face was deathly pale, and her l.u.s.trous eyes shone with a strange light. Pain struggled with anger in her glance. She was defiant yet humiliated, and she shrank from the proffered hand of her husband as though his touch would defile her. When her gaze fell on Mowbray she singled him out for a specially scornful arching of her eyebrows and contemptuous drooping of her beautiful lips. Considering that he had seen her that day for the first time, and had scarce exchanged a dozen words with her, he was taken aback by her evident disdain.

Somehow, though no word was spoken, those wonderful eyes said to him:--

"You, too, have come to witness my degradation--you, in whom I thought I had found a new lover."

For some reason, unknown even to himself, he bowed sorrowfully. When he lifted his head again, Sher Afghan was seated beside his unwilling spouse, a gorgeously-clad _mahout_ was prodding the elephant's head with a steel ankus, and the stately animal was marching off into the shadow of the cypresses, his path being marked by two winding rows of lanterns.

Feeling themselves slightly out of place among the _nawabs_, _omrahs_, and other grandees who formed the Diwan's guests, the Englishmen soon took their leave. Their servants, thinking the sahibs would sit long at the feast, had gone off to revel with the rest of their kind, and there was a wearisome delay whilst one guard after another was despatched to search for them, the truth being that each _chupra.s.si_ seized the opportunity himself to indulge in libation and eat the sweetmeats provided with lavish hand for the household, before he fulfilled his quest.

The wedding cortege had gone, the night was dark and cold, and the patience of the belated pair was fast ebbing, when a hubbub of shouting and firing, mixed with the screams of women and the neighing of horses at some distance, rudely disturbed the brooding silence.

"Gad!" roared Sainton, "I thought there would be a fight."

"The Prince has attacked the escort. He means to slay Sher Afghan and carry off the girl. What can we do?" cried Walter.

"Bide where we are. Here comes news if I be not mistaken."

Indeed, the loud trumpeting of an elephant, and the shaking of the earth under his mighty rush, showed that not only had the Persian's force been overcome but he was in full retreat. The excited servants of the Diwan--those who were left at the entrance--barred the gate and left the Englishmen standing outside. But there was a lamp there, and the row of little lights on top of the wall lit up the roadway sufficiently to reveal the approach of the elephant. He came with the speed of a galloping horse, his trappings flying in wild disorder and his trunk uplifted in terror. Behind him raced a mob of armed men, but, on his left side, managing a fine Arab with consummate skill, and cutting and thrusting madly at Sher Afghan, rode Prince Jahangir. The Persian, leaning well out of the _howdah_, was endeavoring with equal fury to kill or maim his royal rival, but the swaying strides of the elephant, and the difference in height between the huge brute and the horse, made it difficult if not impossible for either combatant to injure the other.

Yet Sher Afghan's face was bleeding, and Jahangir's clothes were torn.

Evidently there had been a sharp tussle ere the _mahout_ turned his obedient monster towards the Diwan's residence.

Behind Sher Afghan, Mowbray saw the white, distraught face of Nur Mahal.

He fancied, though the whole incident was fleeting as a dream, that she held a dagger in her right hand, but his attention was distracted by Roger shouting:--

[Ill.u.s.tration: And that was the manner in which Nur Mahal on her wedding night came back to the Garden of Heart's Delight.]

"I can see nowt for it but to cleave Jahangir in two as he pa.s.ses."

And cloven the Prince a.s.suredly would have been, for Sainton had drawn his long, straight sword, had not the _mahout_ suddenly wheeled the elephant against the gate, upsetting the snorting Arab by the maneuver.