For many nights Ameena had not slept so soundly or so refreshingly as on that when the plot intended to cause her death was proceeding to its completion. What if the cannon thundered without—she heard it not, she was secure in Kasim’s faith; a day more—nay, the next night—she was to leave that roof, she hoped for ever! Meeran had been busily occupied in removing her mistress’s jewels to Kasim’s house, where a comfortable dooly was already prepared for her, and two stout ponies for herself and her brother; a few articles of clothing too, and some of the rich garments which the Khan had presented to Ameena in the days of their pleasant intercourse; there were many that she abandoned with a sigh, but it was impossible to take all.
The dreams of the sleeper were fresh and balmy visions; now she thought she wandered through groves, where the rich scent of tube-roses perfumed the air, and the song of birds was sweet to the charmed ear—by fountains, whose murmuring plash mingled with the sighs of the soft wind among the trees above them. Kasim Ali was beside her, pouring forth a tale of love, of devotion, to which she listened with delight and rapture. Again she was with her mother, her dear mother; and as she lay in her arms and wept tears of joy after their long separation, which were kissed from her cheeks as fast as they trickled over them—she felt a joy, a sense of security in her soul, which was delicious beyond expression. She fancied her mother spoke to her, and she awoke.
‘Alla and the twelve holy Imaums keep thee this day! my rose of beauty!’ said old Meeran, advancing; and kissing her forehead, she passed her hands over Ameena’s head to take the evil from it; ‘my blessing, and the blessing of holy angels and saints be on thee! how brightly thou didst smile in thy sleep! Alla bless thee, and the lady Muriam, the mother of Jesus! there is no sadness in thy face now.’
‘None, dear nurse, none. I had such happy dreams, even when you awoke me. I thought, but no matter—’ And she hid her face in the pillow.
‘Ay, thou wert smiling in thy sleep, fairest, and my heart was glad; art thou strong to-day? remember it is to-night we go.’
Ameena blushed deeply. ‘I remember,’ she said; ‘I am strong, I will meet him.’
‘Bless thee, my daughter, he is noble, and worthy of thee; now listen and lie here for a while, it will rest thee; thou shalt rise towards afternoon. I have prepared all yonder, I and my good Zoolfoo. Ya Alla kureem! Ya Moula Ali! Ya Boorhanee Sahib! grant that the issue of this be favourable; now turn thee, fairest, and sleep again: may sweet visions be present to thee, for there is no longer aught to fear.’
Meeran left her: she had arisen early, and as she approached the door of her mistress’s room, her eye caught the fatally intended image, which had been laid there; for a moment she was staggered, and her heart failed her, as she remembered its fearful import, but instantly she rallied. ‘I bless thee, O gracious Alla! that she hath not seen this,’ she said; ‘to me it will do no hurt, nor to her, for I will remove it.’ But at first she hesitated to touch so foul a thing as that which in its corpse-clothes lay before her. ‘Bismilla hir-ruh man-ir-ruhcem! in the name of the most clement and merciful!’ she cried, in very desperation, as seizing the figure at last, and hiding it under her doputta, she hurried forth into the open air. ‘It would be well to lay it at her own door,’ she thought, as she passed near that of Kummoo-bee; ‘but no, better to destroy it.’
She passed out into the street, the fresh grey dawn was breaking, and only an occasional firing disturbed the silence, except the howling of the dogs, which was dreadful. She looked for a dunghill; there was one not far off, occupied by a dozen dogs snarling at each other, and quarrelling for soft places among the ashes. With a volley of abuse and a few stones they fled, and Meeran proceeded to do her errand. ‘May all the curses which were said over this image,’ she cried aloud, ‘descend upon the authors of it! may they dwell in their bones, their livers, their blood, and their flesh, Ameen! Ameen! Ameen!’ She then spat on the face of the image, and throwing it on the ground with volleys of abuse, not of the most decent character, she trampled it to atoms under her feet, and pounded them with a stone till not a fragment remained entire; then taking up the dust, she threw it to the four quarters of the heavens; and then, and then only, felt satisfied that the spell was broken. Her return to her happy smiling mistress was the dearest proof she could have obtained that she was right.