Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
Azima gathered courage at my words, and fell at the feet of the old
woman. "Kulloo!" she cried, "have you not known me as a child? have I
not loved you from infancy? Alas! I have neither mother nor father now;
and has _he_ not beaten me with a shoe? have I not sworn to quit this
house? and did you not swear on my head you would aid me?"
"What can I do? what can I do?" cried the nurse; "alas, I am helpless;
what can an old woman like me do?"
"Anything, everything," I exclaimed; "woman's wit never yet failed at a
pinch."
"Did you not say you had made a vow to visit the Durgah of Hoosain Shah
Wullee?" cried Azima; "and did not you say you would take me to present
a nuzzur at the shrine of the holy saint, if I recovered from my last
illness?"
"Thou hast hit it, my rose," said the nurse; "I had forgotten my vow.
Sahib, can you meet us at the Durgah to-morrow at noon?"
"Assuredly," said I, "I will be present. Good nurse, do not fail
us, and another fifty shall be added to the hundred I have already
promised."
"May your condescension and generosity increase!" cried she. "Sahib,
I have loved this fair girl from her infancy, and though it will go
sorely against my heart, I will give her into your hands rather than
she should be further exposed to the indignities she has already
undergone."
"Thanks, thanks, good nurse, I believe you; but swear on her head that
you will not break your faith."
"I swear," said the old woman, placing her hands on Azima's head, "I
swear she shall be thine."
"Enough," I cried, "I am content; now, one embrace and I leave you. I
shall be missed by my father, and he will fear I am murdered in this
wild city."
We took a long, passionate embrace, and I tore myself from her.
"To-morrow," I cried, "and at the Durgah we will meet, never again to
part. So cheer thee, my beloved, and rouse all your energies for what
is before you. To-morrow will be an eventful day to us both, and I pray
the good Alla a prosperous one."
"It will, it will," cried the nurse; "fear not for anything. Nurgiz is
faithful, and shall accompany us; the rest are long ago asleep, and
know not you are here. But now begone; further delay is dangerous, and
Nurgiz will lead you to the street."
She called, and the same slave who had ushered me in led the way to the
door. "By your soul, noble sir, by your father and mother, do not be
unfaithful, or it will kill her."
"I need not swear, pretty maiden," said I; "your mistress's beauty has
melted my heart, and I am hers for ever."
"Then may Alla protect you, stranger! That is your road, if you go by
the one you came yesterday."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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