"I have heard it," said I, "from one who is attached to her, an old woman, who, I doubt not, will be here before the evening."
My father shook his head. "I do not disbelieve thee, my son," said he; "but I mistrust thy young heart and hot temper; it is a danger too great to be encountered; for once with us, and she would get thee into her toils, and then father, duty, and profession will be alike forgotten, and I should lose thee, my son, which would kill me."
"Do not think so, I pray, my father," said I; "there is not the danger you anticipate; she would follow us, and we should see but little of her, except we desired her presence to sing to us on the dreary evenings of our journey. And grant me this request, I pray you; 'tis the only one I have ever asked, and perhaps I deserve something for what I have done hitherto."
"Thou dost indeed," he replied; "anything else would have been gladly granted without a demur on my part; however, I have confidence in thee, my son, and therefore have it as thou wilt, I will not gainsay thee in the matter." So far, therefore, there was no objection; yet my heart smote me as I thought on the concealment I had made of her being in the pay and service of the Nuwab, and that her connection with him might bring us all into trouble. "However," thought I, "women have sharp wits; and if she truly desires to get away from him, she will take her own measures."
As soon as I could, therefore, I set off to the bazar; and, after loitering along the row of shops, and purchasing articles that were really required by us, I ascended the steps which led to the chowree, and was soon in conversation with the Kotwal, who entertained me with the gossip of the town, and did not fail to endeavour to impress me with a high sense of his power and influence. More than once I was on the point of confiding to him my plan, and offering him a bribe to assist me; but I checked myself on the consideration that he might take my money, and afterwards play me false. As it happened, however, I was not long in suspense, for I saw the old woman in the bazar beneath me, making the best of her way in the direction of the gate of the town by which I had entered; so I took my leave of the worthy Kotwal, begging him to come to the camp in the evening for a reward for his civility and exertions. I had, however, lost sight of the old woman before I got fairly down into the street; and following the direction she had taken, overtook her just beyond the gate.
"Mother," said I, "am I he whom you seek?"
"Ai mere jan! (ah, my soul!) have I at last found thee, my prince? Surely I have not ceased in my endeavours since last night to meet thee; I saw thee enter the palace, but my old limbs would not carry me quick enough to overtake thee." And she threw her hands over my head, and cracked every joint of her fingers by pressing them against my temples.
"Are we secure against observation here?" she continued, "for I have much to say to thee, and that quickly."
"Not here," I replied; "I will go on to our tents yonder, and you can follow me; I will wait for you near them." The old woman hobbled up to me as I stood under a mango tree, secure from observation. Quite out of breath, she sat down: when she had recovered herself, she untied a corner of the cloth about her person, and presented me with a small ring.
"This," said she, "is from her you know of: and for the love of Alla, my soul! do you exert yourself for her: she is dying in this place, and is subject to all the torments the caprice of that unblest Nuwab can think of. She is one day in favour and loaded with kindnesses, another, in a fit of jealousy or rage, he deprives her of every comfort, shuts her up in a lonely room, and will not even allow me to go to her. You, my son, are young and brave; you will not suffer her to continue in this state, she who is the pearl of Hyderabad, who has found favour in the sight of princes and nobles. For the sake of Alla, exert yourself, and she is free, and will accompany you to the end of the world. She has seen you, and your beauty has entered into her soul and is consuming her liver; and between this and her former miseries, she is to-day in a state of madness, so that even I cannot pacify her."