I brought one myself and held it to his face. I was indeed shocked. Ghous Khan was before me, but oh how changed! His features were worn and sunken, the brightness of his eyes was dimmed, his beard was matted and uncombed, and a few dirty rags covered his head; but what above all shocked me was, that his nose had been cut off close to his face, and the skin of his cheeks and mouth had been drawn together by the healed wound, so that it was tight over them, and imparted to his features a ghastly expression.
"My poor friend!" I exclaimed, embracing him; "how is this? how have you been reduced to this condition? Speak, for the love of Alla! and tell me what you have suffered."
"The disfigurement of my face is not all, Meer Sahib," said he, throwing off the dirty, ragged sheet which covered him. "Behold these!" and the poor fellow held up to my view the stumps of his arms; his hands had both been cut off between the wrist and the elbow, and the wounds were scarcely healed. Having done this, he sunk down on the floor in an agony of grief and shame.
I raised him up, and comforted him as well as I could. I ordered a bath for him, and clean apparel, had his wounds dressed by a skilful barber; and, after seeing him eat, or rather fed with a hearty meal, I left him to his repose. I need not tell you, now that one of my lost companions had arrived, how I longed to hear the fate of the rest. That night I was sleepless and restless: but the next day, closeted with me in a private room apart from observation, he gave me the following account of his adventures and sufferings; adventures indeed there were few, but sufferings many.
"You of course remember, Meer Sahib," said he, "that fatal night when, just as we were on the point of making off with our booty, we were attacked. The darkness favoured your escape; but on the first onset of the Pindharee horsemen I received a severe spear wound in the back, which threw me from my horse. I was seized by the Pindharees, bound hand and foot, and carried to the tent of Cheetoo, where there was now a large concourse of people assembled. The wound in my back was staunched and bound up, and in a few moments afterwards other Pindharees entered, bearing Motee-ram, who was desperately wounded in the head, and the two others, Nuzzur Ali and Ramdeen Singh, who were untouched. Hidayut Khan was there—the villain and traitor! and his triumphant glance quailed under mine when I fixed my eyes on him and would not withdraw them.
"Silence was ordered, and Cheetoo demanded with a loud voice of Hidayut Khan, whether he knew any of the persons before him.
"'I do, Nuwab,' said the wretch; and he named us one by one, and pointed us out.
"'And what have you to say against them?' asked the chief.
"'I accuse them of being Thugs,' said he; 'I accuse them of murder, of the murder of Ghuffoor Khan, and of fourteen other good Pindharees,—they dare not deny it.'
"'Let their jemadar, as he is called,' said Cheetoo, 'if he can speak, answer to this.' But poor Motee's spirit was fast departing, he was senseless, and never spoke afterwards.