"And you never heard aught of them afterwards, nor of the boy?" I asked.
"Never," said the old man; "never; years have passed since then, and the lad, if he lives, is about your own age, Meer Sahib; and—Ya Alla!" cried he, gazing on me, as a gust of wind caused the lamp to flare towards me, "those features are familiar to me!—speak, man! thou art not the son of him who was murdered?"
I confess that his earnest gaze and manner, with my previous convictions that the village was familiar to me, almost overpowered me; but I was too old an adept in deceit to be long staggered by a suspicion which he had no means of confirming, and I replied carelessly and with a laugh: "No, no, that cannot be; my father still lives, though my mother is dead; indeed I have but little remembrance of her. Besides we are pure Syuds by descent, and reside in a distant country, and you spoke of your old friend as a Pathan."
"It cannot be then," said the old man, turning away with an air of disappointment; "yet the resemblance is very striking, and I pray you, Meer Sahib, to pardon an old man's mistake; it may be that my eyes are failing me. Yet look at him, my son, and say, does he not resemble her?"
"He does so certainly," replied the other, "and I was struck with the similarity of features, when I first saw him; but it must be imaginary, or it is, perhaps, one of those unaccountable resemblances, which one often sees without being able to discover any cause why it should exist."
"But you spoke of a coin," said I, "which you hold to be possessed of peculiar virtues."
"I did, Meer Sahib, and my father will tell you that I have not overrated its efficacy."
"Nor has he," said the other; "many charms have I seen, but none equal to it: when around the neck of the wearer, no evil comes to her, no disease attacks her, and the eye of the malevolent or envious rests in vain upon her. Assuredly it possesses wonderful virtues, for if it is ever absent from her, she suffers from disease, or is unquiet in mind."
"Alla ke Qoodrut!" I exclaimed; "it is the work of God. Such charms are indeed precious, and lucky is the possessor of them. I had once a son,—he became the victim of an evil glance cast by a Fakeer to whom alms were denied; he cursed my house, and the boy pined and died. I was absent from my home, and you may judge, sirs, of my agony when I arrived and learned my boy was dead. I have never been blessed with another; but a girl still survives, upon whom every care is lavished, and no charm is offered for sale by the wandering Fakeers, Moslem or Hindoo, but it is eagerly purchased, and hung around her neck. In this manner I have spent much money, but as yet without effect; for my child is delicate, and afflicted with dreams which disturb her rest and disquiet her gentle spirit; and I would to Alla I could become the possessor of some charm similar to the one you mention."
"Keep a stout heart, Meer Sahib," said the old man; "you have bought your experience with sorrow, to be sure, yet a constant attention to the wants of the holy wanderers will no doubt have its effect in the end, and their prayers will be offered for the health of your child and her long life."