The elephant still came onward. Shere Afkun called to the mahoot to stop, but his order was disregarded. The phlegmatic Hindoo, sitting upon its neck apparently in a state of half consciousness, took no heed of the peril of the party before him. The Omrah, seeing that it was impossible to avoid the approaching danger except by making a timely retreat, ordered his bearers to turn and carry him back to the baths; but they, terrified at the evident hazard to which they were exposed, threw down the palankeen and fled, leaving their master to settle the question of priority of right to a passage on the Emperor’s highway. The hero, undismayed by the formidable aspect of the jeopardy by which he was menaced, sprang instantly from the ground, drew his sword, and, before the elephant could accomplish its fatal purpose, severed its trunk close to the root. The gigantic animal immediately dropped and expired. The mahoot leaped from its neck as it was in the act of falling, and escaped.
Shere Afkun, suspecting that in urging the elephant upon him the fellow had been actuated by that personal feeling which so generally exists between Hindoo and Mahomedan, forebore to pursue him, thinking the mean passions of a hireling too contemptible to rouse his indignation; he therefore allowed the offender to escape unmolested, and coolly wiping the blade of his sword, returned it to the scabbard.
Jehangire witnessed the whole scene. He had placed himself at a small lattice that overlooked the street. He was perfectly amazed, but disappointment and vexation banished from his bosom the better feelings of nature. Shere Afkun waited upon him and communicated what had passed: the Emperor extolled his bravery with warmth, and thus escaped his suspicion.
CHAPTER IV.
Repeated disappointment only served the more to exasperate the sovereign’s jealousy. It raged like a furnace within him; for to exercise a due control over their actions is not the general character of despots. His peace of mind was perpetually disturbed by the fierceness of his emotions, and he became more than ever bent upon the death of his successful rival in the affections of Mher-ul-Nissa.
Shere Afkun was not permitted to remain long unmolested. Kuttub, Suba or governor of Bengal, knowing his master’s wishes, and in order to ensure his future favour, hired forty ruffians to assassinate the dreaded Omrah. So confident was the latter in his own strength and valour, that he took no precaution to protect himself against secret or open enemies. He lived in a solitary house in which he retained only an aged porter, all his other servants occupying apartments at a distance. Relying upon his own courage and the vigour of his arm, he had no apprehension either of the secret assassin or the open foe.
This was a tempting opportunity. The murderers were engaged, and had been promised such a reward as should urge them to the most desperate exertions in order to ensure the consummation of their employees wishes. They entered the apartment while their victim was asleep. A lamp hung from the ceiling and threw its dim light upon him as he reclined in profound slumber. There was no mistaking the hero, as he lay with his noble head upon his arm, his expansive forehead turned towards the light, every line blended into one smooth unbroken surface denoting the perfect placidity of repose. Over his muscular frame was lightly thrown a thin coverlid, which did not entirely conceal its beautiful proportions, exhibited in the indistinct but traceable outline of the figure beneath. He slept profoundly. The murderers approached the bed and raised their daggers to strike; when one of them, touched with remorse at the idea of such an unmanly assault upon a man who had so signalised his courage and virtues, cried out, under an impulse of awakened conscience, “Hold! are we men? What! forty to one, and afraid to encounter him awake?”
This timely interposition of the assassin’s remorse saved the life of his intended victim; for the Turkoman, aroused by the manly expostulation, started from his bed, seized his sword, and retiring backwards before the assassins had all entered, reached the corner of the apartment, where he prepared to defend himself to the last extremity. As he retreated, he had drawn the couch before him, thus preventing the immediate contact of his enemies, who endeavoured in vain to reach him; and as they were only armed with daggers, he cut down several of them without receiving a single wound. Urged on, however, by the great amount of the reward offered, the murderers still pressed upon him, and succeeded at length in dragging the couch from his grasp, though not before he had caused several others to pay for their temerity with their lives. He was at length exposed to the full operation of their brutal fury. Ten of his enemies already lay dead upon the floor, showing fatal evidence of the strength and celerity of his arm; there, however, remained thirty to vanquish; and, placing his back against the wall, the hero prepared for the unequal and deadly struggle.
Seeing him now entirely exposed to their assault, the ruffians rushed simultaneously forward, in the hope of being able to despatch him at once with their daggers; but they so encumbered each other by suddenly crowding upon their victim in their anxiety to prevent his escape, that they could not strike. He meanwhile, taking advantage of the confusion, laid several of them dead at his feet: nevertheless they pressed forward, and the same result followed. Shifting his ground, but still managing to keep his back against the wall, he defeated all their attempts; and such was his fearful precision in employing his sword, that not a man came within its sweep without receiving practical experience of the strength with which it was wielded. Besides those already slain, many others of the assailants fell desperately wounded. At length the rest, fearing the extermination of their whole band, betook themselves to flight, and left him without a wound.
The man who had warned Shere Afkun of his danger stood fixed in mute astonishment at the prowess of him whom he had received a commission to murder. He had been so paralysed, that he could neither join in the attack, nor defend his victim from the sanguinary assault which the latter had so heroically defeated. He had no time for meditation. The charge had been so sudden, and the defence so marvellous, that his mind remained in a state of stagnation, and was restored to its proper tone only upon seeing the extraordinary issue. Perceiving himself to be alone with the man whom he had undertaken to destroy for a base bribe, his heart sank within him—he felt that he deserved to die; but his intended victim advanced, and kindly taking his hand, welcomed him as his deliverer. Having ascertained from the man’s unreluctant confession by whom the assassins had been hired, the hero dismissed him with a liberal benefaction.