Let us see how the night was passed by both parties.
The Khan's tents had been pitched on an even sward which bordered the rivulet, and several fine trees were included in the area enclosed by the canvas walls. Under the shade of these, Zyna and Fazil had sat most part of the day. A few carpets and pillows had been spread there, and the cool fresh mountain air, the brawling murmur of the brook, and the grand and beautiful scenery by which they were surrounded, so different to the bare monotonous undulations of the Dekhan, were in themselves more exciting than it was possible for them to have imagined from any previous description. But the loss of Tara's society was pressing heavily upon both. All they heard daily was, that she was well and among her people, who were taking care of her. She would remain with them at Wye; and as the army returned, she should see Lurlee Khánum and Zyna once more, and take leave of them, for she could not be permitted to sojourn with Mahomedans. This the Envoy had told the Khan and Fazil the day before.
It was a dreary prospect for Fazil, and apparently a hopeless one. Should he ever see that sweet face more? ever hear the music of the gentle voice, at once so timid and yet so reliant? There was no hope that the Brahmuns among whom she had fallen would now give her up voluntarily. It was impossible to think it. Did they know what he had asked and she had half-promised?—would her life be safe even if they did? Hardly so, indeed; or, if safe, would be spared at the price of the disfigurement which awaited her, according to the strict rules of her faith. What they had arranged among themselves, therefore, could not be openly prosecuted; and, in defiance of his father's cautions, and the apparently smooth progress of public affairs, no effort to demand her, or to recover her by force, could be made as yet.
"Let us settle everything with this Mahratta first, and as we return by Wye, we will have the girl, or know why," the stout old Khan used to say; for he had grown to love Tara very dearly, and missed her presence, though in a different manner, as much as any of them. "Fear not, Fazil, the Kafirs shall not possess her."
So Zyna and Fazil had sat most part of the day, revolving over and over again how best Tara might be assisted or rescued, while blaming themselves a thousand times for that neglect of special precautions for her safety which had resulted in her abduction.
"If only Moro Trimmul could be found, and brought once more to account," Fazil said, grinding his teeth, "it would go hard with him;" but he was not to be heard of. The Envoys in camp declared he had at once proceeded to Pertâbgurh to clear himself to the Rajah Sivaji and the lady mother, of whom, in particular, he was an especial favourite; but he was not now even there: he had been sent to a distance; where or why it was not known; and it was impossible to trace him. Bulwunt Rao, Lukshmun, and the lad Ashruf, had all been employed in turn as spies, but had failed to discover him—he was not to be heard of.
It was now late, and the lady Lurlee came and joined them before the evening prayer. She had been busy after her own fashion, and as the priest and some others were to dine with the Khan, had prepared several of her most scientific dishes. She had no doubt as to the issue of the morrow's interview. In the first place, who could resist her husband? and were not the planets unusually favourable? She and the priest had compared notes from behind the screen in the tent; and though he laughed at the curious jargon she had collected on the subject, yet, a steadfast believer in astrology himself, had explained to her how peculiarly fortunate the conjunction was to be at the hour cast for the meeting, and she had fully believed it. If Tara had been there, all would have been perfectly happy; but, as Lurlee said, the planets told her it was only, after all, a matter of a few days' delay; and, indeed, perhaps, after to-morrow she might be demanded.
Fazil, however, in spite of these assurances, was not easy; and after he left the tents for the evening prayer, had taken counsel with Lukshmun who, in regard to Tara, had taken the place of Bulwunt Rao, to whom Fazil dare not intrust his secret. The day she had disappeared, and Fazil's misery was apparent, the hunchback had divined the cause; and a few inquiries in his capacity of spy had confirmed his suspicions.
"I know but of one thing to do, master," he said, as the young man confided to him his dread of violence to the girl—"send me back to Wye, where she is; give me but ever so small a note, and I will deliver it into her own hand; and if I can bring her away, trust to me to do so. I can traverse these forests and mountains by night; I can hide her away or disguise her; and if she be true to thee, she will come. Give me the boy Ashruf, and a little money, and let us go, even now. He is without; call him."
"Ashruf," cried the young Khan to the lad, who was standing near the tent door, and who entered at once; "wilt thou go with Lukshmun?"