Legendary & romantic tales of Indian historyCaunter, Hobart
History
Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history
Caunter, Hobart
India -- History -- Fiction
That night he was passing towards his home, without a guard and
unarmed. The street was dark and narrow. Towards the end there was a
ruin used for the purposes of stalling cattle, where all the homeless
and vagrant of the city congregated. He passed the ruin, but saw not a
human soul, nor heard a sound. Musing upon the unpleasant occurrences
of the morning, he walked leisurely onward. His heart was stirred to a
quicker pulsation as he reflected upon what his beloved Bameea might
undergo from the criminal jealousy of her royal mistress. On passing
a house supported by a projecting buttress, the drapery of his loose
dress caught in a fractured stone, and his progress was thus for the
instant impeded. As he stopped, he fancied he heard the stealthy sound
of footsteps, and, turning round, soon perceived three figures at
a short distance cautiously approaching. They paused when they saw
that he no longer advanced. The recollection of the Sultana’s threat
immediately struck upon his memory like a flash of light. There was
something so sinister in the movements of the three men that determined
him to be upon his guard. He placed his back against the wall, having
his left side protected by the projecting buttress. The men advanced,
and upon reaching the place where the Ameer-ool-Omrah was stationed,
sprang upon him simultaneously, and attempted to pierce him with their
daggers. With a sweep of his muscular arm he levelled two of them to
the earth, and raising his foot, impelled it with such quickness and
force against the body of the third that he fell senseless. One of the
assailants who had been struck down was almost instantly on his legs,
and rushed forward with his dagger raised to strike; but, stumbling
over his prostrate companion, the Abyssinian caught him in his arms,
lifted him like a cushion in the air, and dashing him on the ground,
left him there stunned. Releasing the weapon from the grasp of his
fallen foe, he approached the other man who had been first prostrated
by the sweep of his arm; buried in his heart the instrument with which
he had just armed himself; and taking their turbans from the heads
of the other two assassins, bound their hands and feet together, and
in this painful situation left them to the charities of the casual
passenger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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