In the twelfth year of my imprisonment the old king died, and his successor, the late monarch, ascended the musnud. Many a heart beat quickly and with renewed hope—hope, that had almost died within the hearts of those wretches who were immured within the walls—and of mine among the rest. We had heard that it was customary to release all who had been sentenced to perpetual imprisonment; and you can hardly imagine, Sahib, the intense anxiety with which I looked for the time when the mandate should be issued for our release, or when I should no longer dare to hope.
It came at last; after some days of weary expectation, the order reached the Darogha, and it was quickly conveyed to me. I was brought forth, the chains were knocked off my legs, and I was free. Five rupees were given to me, and a suit of coarse clothes in place of those which hung in rags about my person. After more than twelve weary years I issued from those prison walls, and was again thrown upon the world to seek my fortune.
"Beware, Meer Sahib," said the Darogha, as he presented me with the money, "beware of following your old profession; you are old, your blood no longer flows as it used, and what you have been you should forget. Go! follow some peaceful calling, and fortune may yet smile upon you."
I thanked him and departed. I roamed through the city till nightfall, and after satisfying my hunger at the shop of a bhutteara I begged from him shelter for the night. It was readily granted; and I lay down and enjoyed the first quiet and refreshing sleep I had known for years. I arose with the dawn and went forth,—whither I cared not,—all places in the wide world seemed alike to me. I knew no one, I could find no one who knew me in that large city, and I felt the desolation of my condition press heavily upon me. What to do, or whither to go, I knew not; but a faint hope that I might discover some of my old associates if I could reach Bundelkhund impelled me to travel thither. A change in my dress was soon effected. From a Kalundur Fakeer I purchased a high felt hat and a chequered garment for a small sum: and thus equipped, with a staff in my hand, I left the city by the north gate, and travelled onwards.
It was as I thought; I was never without a meal, though it might be of the coarsest food; and when I reached Jhalone, my little stock of money was nearly as large as when I had left Lukhnow. I went direct to the house of the Moola, for my thoughts were ever with my daughter, and my soul yearned to know her fate. Alas! I was disappointed. His house was inhabited by another, whom I knew not, and all he could tell me was that the old man had gone to Delhi he believed some years before, and that he had not heard any tidings of him since. I asked after his daughters, but the man knew nothing of them, except that one he had adopted had been married in Jhalone to a person who resided in a village of the country, but of his name or direction he was ignorant.
I turned away from the door,—I dared not pass my own, and I withdrew to an obscure part of the town where there was a small garden in which a Fakeer usually resided. Him I had known of old, he had eaten of my bread and received my alms, and now I was his equal. He will not recognize me, thought I, in this dress, and changed as I am no one knows me; I will seek him however, and if he is as he used to be I may learn some news of my old friends.
I found the Fakeer I sought; old I had left him, he was now aged and infirm; his garden, which he had always kept with scrupulous neatness, was overgrown with weeds and neglected, and he had barely strength remaining to crawl about the town for the small supply of flour or grain which sufficed for his daily wants. I was much shocked to see him thus, and representing myself to be a wandering Kalundur desirous of remaining in Jhalone, I begged to be allowed to reside and share with him whatever I got. My offer was readily accepted, and there I took up my abode, in the hope that some wandering party of Thugs might pass Jhalone, to whom I could disclose myself.
Gradually I discovered myself to the old man. I led him to speak of old times and of persons by allusion to whom he must know I was a Thug. He did not hesitate to speak of them, and in particular of myself, whose fate he mourned with such true grief, that I could control myself no longer; and to his wondering ear I related the whole of my adventures, from the time I had been released by the Rajah to the period of my taking up my abode with him. And much had I to hear from him in return—much that distressed and grieved me. Many of my old companions were dead, others had been seized and executed, and hardly one of the old leaders of Bundelkhund were in the country or in the exercise of their vocation; new leaders had sprung up, and he spoke in warm terms of a young man named Feringhea, who when I had last seen him was a mere boy.
Four months passed thus. To support the old Fakeer as well as myself, I was obliged to perambulate the town daily: and I asked and received alms, given in the meanest portions, in the place where my hand had ever been open to the poor. A sad change in my fortune, Sahib! Yet I bore up against it with resignation, if not with fortitude, hoping for better days and new adventures.
New adventures, Ameer Ali! I exclaimed. Had not the punishments you had received turned your heart from Thuggee?