Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
"Your advice is good," said I; "nevertheless the mistress I have lost
is, as you know, worthy of regret, and I shall miss her for many a day.
But tell me, what have you now in hand,--anything in which I may have a
share?"
"Why no," he replied, "nothing; but if you are so inclined, we will
take a ramble this evening through the bazars, we may perhaps pick up
somebody."
"Of course I will be with you, for in truth my hand will get out of
practice if I neglect work. But have you seen my father?"
"I have not," said Bhudrinath; "I hear he is very much engaged about
the property, and do not like to disturb him."
"You are right, he is," said I; "but he will finish all to-day, and get
the money. I suppose after that we shall not stay long here, and for my
part I care not how soon we set off; I am anxious for new scenes and
adventures, and we are not likely to do much here. Is not Surfuraz Khan
here?"
"No; he is gone with a party of seven travellers towards Puttuncherroo,
and has taken ten or fifteen of the best of the men with him; he will
not be back probably before night, if then."
"Who were the travellers?"
"Bunneas, I heard," said Bhudrinath carelessly; "I did not see them
myself, and Surfuraz Khan was in too great a hurry to give me any
information."
"Out upon me!" I exclaimed, vexed at my idleness; "here have I been
amusing myself while all this has been going on: for the sake of the
Prophet, let us do something soon, that I may settle scores with my
conscience, for I have hardly assurance enough to look you in the face
after my behaviour."
"Well," said he, "come this evening; if we can't decoy any one, we will
kill somebody for amusement and practice."
"I agree," said I; "for by Alla! I must do something. I am as
melancholy as a camel, and my blood, which boiled enough yesterday,
seems now scarcely to run through me;--it is not to be borne."
I found when I reached home that the dullal had arrived, and with him
the sahoukar's clerk, and some porters to carry the goods, as well as
fellows with matchlocks and lighted matches, and others with swords and
shields, to escort them. I stared at them. "One would think you were
going to battle, Séthjee," said I, "with all those fierce fellows; I am
half afraid of them."
The fellows laughed; and the clerk replied, "They are necessary, and we
always have them. If our goods were stolen, nay, carried off before our
eyes, should we get any redress? no indeed: we therefore protect our
property the best way we can."
"Now," said my father, "take your goods and be off with them; they are
no longer mine, and I fear to allow them to remain under my roof."
"Surely," said the clerk, "they will be out of your way directly; and
now let us speak about your money, or will you take some merchandise as
part of it?"
"Not a bit, not a bit," replied my father; "I want all my money in
rupees--no, stay, not all in rupees; give me five thousand in silver
and the rest in gold, it will be easier carried."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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