"How is this, Meer Sahib?" said he; "what has tied your tongue?—have you nothing to talk about after our night's entertainment—no remarks to make on the beautiful Kunchinee? By Alla!—though it is a Mahomedan oath—I would almost be content to give up the heaven of Indra, and turn Moosulman, were I sure of being attended in the paradise of Mahomed by a set of Houris just such as she. And to think of her belonging to that old wretch the Nuwab, and to be buried in this hole of a Mahratta village, when she might have half the nobles of Hyderabad at her feet, were she there. By Alla!—I say again—it were worth the while to try and entice her away from the old sensualist; and it would be something to talk about, not to mention her company on the road, and the rare addition she would make to our evening amusements."
"Why," I replied, carelessly, "the girl is, as you say, of surpassing beauty, and no doubt feels herself uncomfortable in this abode of swine; yet to get her away would be no easy task; and what should we do with her when we got her?"
"I shall try and see if her coming with us is any such marvellous difficulty," he rejoined; "and, you know, if afterwards there is any pursuit, she and the rest of her people are easily provided for."
"Now you speak like a cold-blooded Thug," I retorted angrily (for deny it as much as I would to myself, I could not but feel that the dancing-girl had more than interested me); "and I would sooner quit you all, and get back to Hindostan the best way I could, than that a hair of her head should be injured."
"I did but jest, Meer Sahib; you know I am not one who wars with women, except when they come before me in the fair and lawful exercise of my vocation. No, if we get the girl, it must be by fair means; and strait-laced as your father is on many points, he is too fond of a good song and good music to deny us having her in company; so do not mind what I said, and do not go to sleep upon your anger to your poor friend, if indeed you have any."
"I am not angry," said I, "though I certainly felt my blood rise when you alluded to her. We will consider about the rest in the morning; and if we can but persuade my father that the girl comes of her own accord, I do not anticipate any objection; but we must be sure that she will go first; and to this end I have a kind of clue which may guide me."
"How?—did she say aught to you?" he eagerly inquired.
"No," said I; "how could she in that crowd? but you know I understand Persian—thanks to the old Moola, my teacher—and you do not; and from the words of the last plaintive song she sang, and her mode of expressing them, I have a shrewd guess that she is tired of confinement, and of her mate. You know the old proverb, 'Kubootur bu kubootur, bâz bu bâz'—pigeons mate with pigeons, and hawks with hawks."
"Well," said Bhudrinath, "according to that, she is more likely to look to you than to me; and you know I am a Brahmin; therefore I leave her and the matter to your management; I am ready to assist when I can be of use. Inshalla! as you people say, we shall make a corner-stone of the old fellow's beard, and laugh him to scorn."
"Ameen!" said I, "we will try, at all events; and you shall hear from me in the course of to-morrow more upon this subject." We then separated for the night; and I was glad Peer Khan and the rest of the men had been so far behind us as not to have been able to overhear any part of our conversation. I confess that, as I lay down to sleep, I earnestly desired the success of our scheme, though as yet it could hardly be called one; and though I had in some degree struggled with it, I had not been proof against the fascination of the dancing-girl; nor indeed was it to be wondered at, after the words of the old woman.