Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
The day after the rescue of our brethren we held a consultation, at
which the principal members of the band were present. I need not
relate particulars; suffice it to say, that all agreed in thinking
we had remained long enough consistently with our safety, and it was
resolved to depart in the course of the next day, or at most the day
after. One by one the parties, as they were then divided, were to take
the nearest road towards Beeder, which led through Puttuncherroo; and
the last-mentioned place was to be the rendezvous whence we should
proceed in company. Little time, therefore, remained to me; and as
soon as I possibly could, I took Bhudrinath and Motee-ram with me, and
we went into the city. We sat down on the steps of the Char Minar.
Wonderful, indeed, were the stories we heard of our skirmish with the
Kotwal's soldiers; the accounts of the killed and wounded on each side
were ludicrously inconsistent, and you may imagine how we enjoyed
the various relations we heard, all either from persons who declared
that they had been eyewitnesses of the matter, or who had heard it
from undoubted authority. But it was not our errand to waste time by
listening to idle tales, not one of which contained a word of truth,
but to get the money for the bills we had found among the effects of
Syud Mahomed Ali, alias Kumal Khan, and we had repaired to the Char
Minar as the most likely place to meet with a person who could read
them, and without suspicion tell us upon whom they were drawn.
Observing as we sat a miserable half-starved-looking wretch, with a
pen stuck between his turban and his ear, an ink-bottle hanging by his
side, and a roll of paper under his arm, I fixed upon him as a likely
person to suit our purpose. I beckoned to him, and he ran eagerly
towards us. "Canst thou read Goozerattee?" I asked.
"Noble sir, I can not only read but write it, for it is my native
tongue; what are my lord's commands?"
"Simply," said I, "to read a hoondee--no great matter;" and I handed
him one of the bills.
"It is an order, Sahib, drawn in favour of Kumal Khan (my lord's name I
presume), by Bearee Mul of Nandair, upon Gopal Chund Bisn Chund of the
Begum Bazar, for four hundred rupees, at nine days' sight."
"Is it correctly drawn?" I asked.
The fellow looked at the bill, and turned it round and round, examining
every part of it. "Does your worship suspect it?"
"Alla forbid!" said I; "for if it is wrong, I and these worthy
associates of mine are ruined, for we have more like it, and for larger
sums."
"I see nothing wrong in the bill," said the man; "but let me see the
others." I showed them.
"They are all correct," said he; "you have only to take them for
acceptance, and you are sure of your money."
"Is the firm upon whom they are drawn well known?"
"They have a great deal of country business in hoondees," said the man,
"and are on that account perhaps less known than many of our leading
bankers, but nevertheless the firm is most respectable."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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