The events of the night had aroused unusual energy in the young King; nor, since his accession to the throne, had any occurrence excited him like the discovery of treason in the man he had, perhaps, most trusted—his prime minister, Khan Mahomed. It was so unprovoked, so undeserved. Early in life great ability and aptitude for business had been remarked in the Abyssinian slave, Rehân, by the late King; and he had risen, as favourites among Asiatic princes often do, rapidly to rank and wealth, with every honour which an attached and grateful prince could bestow upon him. Finally he had reached the rank of prime minister or Wuzeer, as we have already mentioned, and, amidst all the distractions and intrigues of faction, had succeeded in preserving his monarch's attachment.

In this position he was maintained by the young King on his accession to the throne, notwithstanding the insinuations of many that the Wuzeer was unfaithful. The King had not heeded these suspicions, nor, indeed, beyond mere rumour, was there anything which could lead to confirmation of them; and as the Wuzeer desired it as a proof of his fidelity, the Abyssinians under his command had been pushed on to the north to watch the Moghul armies; for it was better to submit to the turbulence of the Dekhan chieftains at the capital, who could be controlled by neutral forces like those of Afzool Khan, than to risk the possible misconduct of the others. Again, the Dekhanies could not be trusted with the frontier; and the King, impressed with the fidelity of Khan Mahomed, had left him at has post.

At this period the Dekhanies and Abyssinians were rival factions in the state. The latter were more amenable to discipline than the former, who were descendants of those Mahomedan warriors—Toorks, Tartars, and Affghans—who, at the close of the thirteenth century, under Alla-oo-Deen, had invaded the south of India, and wrested the territory in which they had settled from the Mahrattas of Deogurh and the Canarese dynasty of Beejanuggur. They had founded, and maintained the dynasty of Gulburgah, against the attacks of powerful Hindu states, and, when they separated from it, had attached themselves to the founders of other dynasties, which rivalled, and, indeed, exceeded in splendour, the parent one.

Those who were in Beejapoor had joined Ibrahim Adil Shah, when he declared and established his independence of the Bahmani dynasty of Gulburgah, and they had risen to rank and wealth with the state. They had been led to victory by that monarch and his successors; they had conquered province after province from the infidels of the southern Hindu states, and they had at last finally subdued and overturned the ancient Hindu monarchy of Beejanuggur, which, for several generations, was their bitter enemy and rival. Was it wonderful that they at length became arrogant, and that, to maintain an equipoise against them, another element, the Abyssinian, was admitted into this state? It is the old story in the history of the world of exclusive military power; the old play which has always been played out when the characters are brought together.

There were proud names among these old Dekhan families, which still exist, Tartars and Toorks, who ill brooked the control of slaves like Abyssinians. They were free, and held themselves equal in rank to their own king—proud barons in fact, who seldom accepted administrative service, and were rarely fit for it; men "who could fight, but could not write," as they boasted; turbulent, arrogant, quarrelsome among themselves, split into as many factions as they were families and tribes. The "Dâgtorays," "Alla-ool-Moolks," "Bhylmees," "Kalla Chuttrees," "Saféd Poshs," and a host of others, were faithful to their own state, while they were an unceasing source of anxiety, and often distress, to its administrators.

So long as the Moghul armies had threatened the capital, or there was employment daily in the field to meet a common danger, these tribes and their chiefs had found occupation against the common enemy, and had fought valiantly and successfully. The best cavalry of the Moghul army was no match for these fiery Dekhan cavaliers. Reckless of life, well mounted, each tribe and appellation vying with each other, whenever there was a chance in their broad plains, they had not neglected it, and were ever in advance of the more disciplined though slower moving bodies of Abyssinian horse and foot, whom they despised as slaves.

Between the extremes of party were those who, like Afzool Khan, belonged to neither, who held a common interest and faith in the dynasty they served, and whose arms had often been turned against Abyssinians, and against Dekhanies, whenever revolts or mutinies of either rendered it necessary.

Among these contending factions, and ever present rivalries, the course of the young King had been difficult and devious since his accession; but respect to his father's memory and experience, for he had been a wise prince, a successful administrator, and a valiant warrior in the field, had, in the end, induced him to continue the predominance of the Abyssinian element in council; and to allow the Dekhanies scope for their ambition in military commands and active service in distant provinces of the kingdom, retaining those only at the capital who would prove a counterpoise to the Abyssinians, in case of need. Influenced by personal esteem, and even affection, for the man who had been his father's most trusted counsellor and friend, he had retained Khan Mahomed in office, notwithstanding the evil reports of his Dekhan officers; and under these circumstances the distress, and even dismay, of the young King at the discovery of the treachery, which had long existed, was hard to endure. It was his first bitter lesson in life, and there were few to fall back upon for advice or consolation.

In his extremity his thoughts had turned to Afzool Khan first, perhaps, of all: but again, his known intimacy with the Wuzeer; the report that the families would soon be united by the marriage of Khan Mahomed's son to the old Khan's daughter; the notorious friendship of the young men; and, above all, a certain reticence in Afzool Khan's expressions whenever the Wuzeer's character or actions were discussed—recurred to the King, and his thoughts turned from Afzool Khan to others in succession, yet finding rest nowhere.

Of all his officers, on whom could he depend? Jehándar Beg, who should have been his executive in any arrest of the Wuzeer, was known to be his dependent: and thus speculating on each, he estimated bitterly how really weak he was in personal adherents.