‘May I be your sacrifice,’ said the banker, joining his hands, and advancing terror-stricken, your slave is no soldier; he never used a sword in his life.’
‘Peace!’ exclaimed the Sultaun, stamping on the ground, ‘dost thou dare to disobey? Take the sword, O son of perdition, and strike for thy life, else it shall be worse for thee.’
‘But your slave is a Hindoo,’ urged the trembling banker, ‘to whom shedding the blood of an elephant is damnable.’
‘It is right it should be so,’ cried Tippoo, whose most dangerous passion, bigotry, was instantly aroused by the speech; ‘what say ye, my friends? this is a kafir, an enemy of the true faith; why should he not be made to help himself on to perdition?’ and he laughed a low, chuckling, brutal laugh, which many remembered long after.
‘A wise speech! Ah, rare words! Whose speech is like the Sultaun’s?’ cried most of those around; ‘let him obey orders or die!’
‘Therefore take the sword, most holy Sahoukar,’ continued the Sultaun, with mock politeness, ‘and strike thy best.’
The poor man, in very dread of his life, which indeed had been little worth had he disobeyed—advanced and made a feeble stroke, amidst many protestations of want of skill. His excuses were received with shouts of laughter and derision by the ribald soldiery, who, with many of his flatterers, now surrounded the Sultaun, and urged him on. The man was forced to repeat the blow many times, nor was there a Hindoo present who was not compelled to take a part in the inhuman barbarity.
Why dwell on the scene further? The miserable animal was hacked at by the strong and by the weak—bleating and moaning the while in tones of pain and agony, which grew fainter and fainter, until death released it from its tormentors. Then only did the Sultaun remount his elephant; and the human tiger, sated for that day with blood, hunted no more.
‘By Alla and his Prophet!’ said Kasim to the Khan as they returned, and unable any longer to keep his indignant silence, ‘should there be a repetition of this, I vow to thee I will forswear his service. This is the second instance I have seen of his cruelty: hast thou forgotten the bull?’
‘I have not,’ said the Khan; ‘I well remember it; but this is the worst thing he has ever done, and is the effect of the refusal of the marriage. He is ever thus after being violently provoked; but it is much if Alla does not repay him for it with reverses—we shall see.’