“Nay, he goes not to Dhilly,” saith Vincaly Row. “He is here only on a private errand, the taking of his revenge on Cogia Bux,[128] the governor of Tashpour.”

“I have heard of him,” said the viscount. “He led the Mogul’s army in Conchon some years since, and was highly esteemed as a person of much valour and prudence.”

“Ay,” saith the old Brachmine, “but he came once too near to Seva Gi for his safety now. The king was out on a hunting expedition, and halted for the night, with but two or three followers, at the house of a certain landowner. Hither, after midnight, come Cogia Bux with a great force, guided by a treacherous slave, and was got as far as the threshold of the king’s chamber before an alarm was raised. There was but three men with my lord, one of ’em being Madda Gi,[129] his cousin, a young man of extreme promise. He sprang to the door of the chamber, crying out to Seva Gi, ‘Escape, my lord! We will keep the door.’ And thereupon the king, tying together coverlets and turbants for to make a rope, did let himself down through the lattice and escaped (the house standing on the margent of a steep), but the two soldiers and Madda Gi were slain fighting. Which, when the king heard, he was prodigiously grieved, and made haste to send a message to Cogia Bux, saying, ‘Tell Cogia Bux that when he visited upon me the door was shut’ ” (speaking of their manner of civilly denying oneself to a troublesome visitor), “ ‘but I swear on my good sword Bowanny that I will do myself the honour of returning his visit, and when I come to Tashpour the door will not be shut.’ ”

“And ’tis on this errand he is now come?” says my friend.

“Ay,” says the old man, “for he was minded to go against the King of Gulconda at this time, but the tears and entreaties of Seta Bye,[130] the mother of young Madda Gi, declaring that her son was left to die unavenged, prevailed upon him to proceed first against Cogia Bux. As you may well perceive, all his hopes of success hang on his being speedy and secret, but in these two things my master wan’t never yet found wanting.”

“And we may hope to reach him?” asked the viscount.

“If you come on him before he make his attempt on Tashpour,” says the old Brachmine. “If you be later than that, there will be but smoking ruins for to greet you. But at present he is only some three or four days’ journey from you by this road, and little over two days’ by a rough way that I will show you.”

Then by means of drawing with his staff in the dust, he showed us the way he meant, and presently departed on his journey again, with our much thanks. And that night we encamped ourselves in a thick wood, where we lay in much discomfort for fear of the wild beasts, hearing them howling around us. And indeed, so greatly terrified was our men by the alarms of that night that they prayed of us to spend the next among human creatures. And though we did this with great fear and trembling, lest our evil fame should have spread before us, yet we found that this wan’t needed, for the whole place was already in a ferment, and that for a reason that lay in front of us, and not behind. For the Gentues were all mighty gratified and proud, as having heard of Seva Gi’s advance, while the Moors were anxious and uneasy.

All this was pleasing to us, as confirming that we had learned from Vincaly Row, and when we were safely lodged that night in the rest-house of the village, and had supped well, though not extravagantly, my friend and I discoursed much of the means whereby we might soonest place ourselves in security. For it seemed, by what the Brachmine had told us, that to reach the Moratty army by the shortest way we must needs pass through a rugged country, extreme difficult to traverse with such a train as ours, while the other way, where there was a good road enough, should occupy us still two or three days. And moreover, between us and Seva Gi there lay the strong fortress of Tashpour, whence, as we had no doubt, Cogia Bux would be looking forth for us, and our train being so large, it was little like that we should be able to slip past him. These difficulties that threatened us we discussed with great freedom, at one time even purposing to abandon all our stuff (which, though valuable, was little in comparison with life), and take the short road with only our men. But telling this to Loll Duss, who was making ready where we should lie that night, he showed himself prodigiously concerned, and entreated with much respect that we would allow him to make a certain proposition to us. Which we permitting, he begged of us to leave our train in his care, both the men and all the beasts, that he might conduct it to the camp of Seva Gi by the longer road, while we, the viscount and I, rid on without encumbrance by the short way. It went to his heart (said the honest fellow) that we should be left without the attendance suited to our quality, but by submitting to this trifling inconvenience we should be secure of regaining in the space of a few days all our goods, in the stead of being compelled to undertake the rest of our journey without ’em. And this plan of his seeming to us very good and well-considered, we gave to’t our attention, and went to bed resolved upon adopting it.

And setting out in the morning as usual, lest the villagers should perceive our divided forces, we separated from one another at some distance from the place where we had slept, our servants and cooleys taking the road to the left hand, and my friend and I that to the right. Meanwhile, I was not a little exercised in my mind as to whether we were doing the best we might, and did give Loll Duss many commands touching what he should do in respect to certain dangers, as that in case of any pursuit made of them, they must all leave their packs and escape into the woods, not rashly perilling their lives for such poor silly stuff as beds and kettles. In all this he heard me very patiently, though I am well assured he would never have suffered any such thing to be done, and so we separated from them, my friend and I riding on in the sweet morning air, the which was mighty soft and agreeable, with as little concern as if that were not to be the most weighty day of both of our lives, or at least of mine.