Akbar Part 6

"Now I am fortunate," cried Faizi, joyfully; "but do repeat one of the sayings from Bhartrihari; [63] no doubt you know many."

Siddha thought for a moment, and then recited:--

"Every one who lives was born, but only those are truly born Who, dying, leave a name to their descendants."

"Oh," laughed Faizi, "in your Kashmir you have learnt other things than Sanscrit,--you are also learned in the art of flattery, my friend."

"Flattery?" asked Siddha. "Should not your name and that of your brother Abu-l Fazl--that have penetrated from Persia to the furthest districts of Hindustan--should not your names be preserved by coming generations?"

"My brother's name," he answered; "yes, that will not lightly be forgotten: preserved, perhaps, not so much through his deeds as through his immortal work, the 'Akbar Nama,' [64] in which he describes the history of our great Emperor's reign. That is indeed a book, my friend, in comparison with which all my writings sink to nothing. But I have remarked to him that he raises Akbar too much to the clouds; for after all, he, as a man, has his faults, like others, and perhaps in the future he may be accused of flattery of princes and of prejudice. But he would not listen to me, nor in the least diminish his praise of the Emperor. 'If I,' he answered me, 'may not say all that I in truth think of the man, who is more than my prince--he is my benefactor and truest friend,--rather than not say what I think, I would throw my book away.' As you can understand, against all that there was no reasoning; and one can see also that to Akbar, although he says nothing, the praise of a friend whose opinion he prizes so highly is very welcome."

"n.o.ble Faizi," said Siddha, interrupting a short silence, "may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly," was the reply; "and I hope to be able to answer it frankly."

"Well, then, when we spoke of Abu-l Fazl, a warning he gave me this morning crossed my mind. He warned me against treachery that here surrounds the Emperor. Do you, whose opinion is of such great weight, believe that there can be people here so foolish and so criminal as to league themselves against so great and beneficent a prince as Akbar; can it really be?"

"Oh!" cried Faizi; "my brother sees treachery everywhere; but after all, that is but natural to a Minister, and still more to the first, the great Wazir. However, you may make yourself easy; people here are not so base, nor are they so foolish, as to engage in a game in which their heads are the stakes, and the chances ten to one against them."

"Faizi," said Kulluka, gravely and half reproachfully, "your hopeful views prove your good heart; but do you not think that they may be sometimes dangerous to young people, and lead them, as for example might be the case with our inexperienced friend here, into imprudence?"

"I do not see that he is inclined to want of caution," was the reply; "and I only mean that it is better that he should not begin with his head full of imaginations of court and state intrigues, but enter life with confidence and courage. We all began so, and dangers never harmed us. If he begins with too much suspicion, he will end by trusting no one, not even my brother or myself."

"That could never be," cried Siddha, quickly, as he looked confidently into Faizi's friendly face. "As little as I could ever suspect secret enmity from you, so little could you expect faithlessness and treachery from one who prizes your friends.h.i.+p and good opinion as highly as I do."

"Remember what you have said," Kulluka remarked, gravely; "and think, too, that no one has the power of foreseeing all the events and circ.u.mstances that may end in influencing him, short-sighted as he is, to give up his free will."

"See," said Faizi, in his usual joyous tone, "here we are again in philosophy. You know well it is my favourite subject, although I have not made so much progress in it as Kulluka maintains. Let us call for lights--night begins to close in--and we will have some discussion touching Sankhya and Vedanta, [65] in which he is so strong. What a pity that we cannot ask Akbar to join us! he finds more pleasure in the driest philosophical discussion than in the most sparkling banquets."

"Nothing should I like better, honoured Faizi," answered Kulluka, "than to pa.s.s an hour with you deep in such subjects, as in past days; but now I am afraid we must go, Siddha must take over his command early to-morrow morning, and I have much to settle to-night in readiness for my departure, which is fixed for the day after to-morrow. Will you, then, excuse us if we take our leave, and thank you for your reception--as kind and friendly as ever it was in days gone by?"

"Indeed I will excuse you, my worthy friend," answered Faizi, as he called to a servant to show them out. "Siddha," he said, as he took leave, "we were speaking of imprudences; be on your guard against them. But a young man like you may happen to fall into them as well at your court as at ours; and if you ever find yourself in any difficulty, come straight to Faizi, who may be able to keep you out of the fire." And without waiting for either answer or thanks, he turned back to his own apartments.

Who could have asked for more, on his entry into life, than was given to Siddha! Neither councillors nor support failed him. For important affairs there was the hermit of the mountain; for more trifling difficulties the wise and influential Faizi. The favour of the First Minister had already been granted him, and that of the Emperor himself was promised him.

CHAPTER IV.

AKBAR.

Early next morning, on the great maidan of the fortress, our young soldier took over the command of his detachment from the chief mansabdar [66] of the Rajputs. The officer above him exacted a strict observance of discipline; but to that Kulluka's pupil was well accustomed, and he himself saw the necessity for it. This mansabdar, too,--who presented him with the white feather and other symbols of his rank,--in spite of the severity of his disposition, was a man of cultivation and courteous, friendly manners. Siddha was equally pleased with the appearance of his men, clad in the same splendid array as their leaders. They were splendid riders, with soldier-like bearing, and countenances sparkling with life and courage.

At the request of the commander, Siddha put his troopers through some evolutions, which gave him the opportunity of showing off his own admirable riding and the training of his horse. Had Kulluka been present at these exercises he would have seen with satisfaction the approbation with which his pupil was regarded by his superiors. After some evolutions with all the troops a.s.sembled, the bugle signalled that the exercises for the day were over, and commanded the retreat. Siddha, giving his horse to Vatsa, who was in waiting, turned his footsteps towards one of the gardens of the palace, to which officers of his rank had access. But before he had reached the court he saw a young woman approaching him by one of the side-paths, who, from her attire, appeared to be a servant belonging to some great house. As she drew near she hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Are you not, my lord, the n.o.ble Siddha, just arrived from Kashmir?"

"You are right," he answered; "you seem to know me."

"Not personally," said the servant; "but the n.o.ble lady who sent me gave me your description. She requests a few minutes' conversation with you, if you will have the kindness to grant them to her."

"But," asked Siddha, "who is your mistress?"

"Excuse me, my lord," was the answer, "if I withhold her name for the present; doubtless she will herself enlighten you, if you honour her with a visit, and, if you will, she expects you this evening. Come at about ten, by that mosque." And she pointed to a beautiful building on a height, whose gilded cupolas and marble minarets were sparkling in the suns.h.i.+ne.

Siddha hesitated and sought for an answer. An adventure--and he thought of Iravati. A plot--and he remembered the warning of Abu-l Fazl.

"Well?" asked the maid, mockingly. "A soldier like you, and not know what to do when an ill.u.s.trious lady asks for a short conversation! You are not afraid, I hope."

"Afraid!" cried Siddha, while a flush of anger mounted to his face. "What gives you the right--but," continued he, restraining himself, "my irresolution may appear strange, but the reasons are no concern of yours. Meet me at the appointed time at the mosque."

"It is well," replied the woman; and greeting him, she returned the way she had come.

For a moment Siddha thought of attempting to follow her unseen, and so to discover with whom he had to do; but a moment's consideration convinced him she certainly would be on her guard. Dissatisfied with the whole affair, and with himself, he continued his walk, and soon reached the garden.

Rich and magnificent as it was, there was more to fatigue than satisfy the eye. Straight paths, one resembling another, paved with smooth polished stones, were shaded by trees; and there were tanks bordered with marble, from the centres of which fountains of various forms arose. The groups of trees in all directions threw thick, cool shade, inviting the pa.s.sers-by to repose. After having wandered for some time without meeting any one, Siddha saw a middle-aged and powerfully-built man seated under the shade of one of these trees. There was something in the man's appearance that immediately excited his attention, though he could scarcely have given a reason. The stranger was distinguished from the courtiers he had met, by something that words can hardly convey. The expression of his face, closely shaven, like others, was calm and frank; neither handsome nor the contrary, his attire was rich yet simple; and excepting the elaborately worked hilt of his sword, his only ornament was a diamond of extraordinary size that glittered in the folds of his turban. But what neither ornaments nor beauty of feature could give, was the peculiar expression and bearing that Siddha had remarked in Gurupada the hermit, but which was still more marked in this man, and bespoke him a ruler. Still, in the unknown he did not suspect more than a courtier or a great warrior attached to some prince who was in attendance at Akbar's court. With a silent greeting he was about to pa.s.s by, when the stranger addressed him by name, and without rising or further introduction, asked if he had made acquaintance with his Rajputs. Somewhat surprised that everyone should know who he was, Siddha replied in the affirmative, and the other proceeded in explanation.

"By the heron's feathers I recognised your rank, and knowing all your fellow-officers personally, and knowing also that you were expected to take up your appointment, I had no difficulty in guessing who you were. And how do you like your appointment? Sit down by me."

"I should indeed be ungrateful," said Siddha, accepting the invitation, which sounded more like a command, and scarcely noticing that the stranger treated him as an inferior,--"I should indeed be ungrateful to my benefactor and the Emperor if I did not highly prize the n.o.ble occupation in which they have placed me."

"The Emperor!" repeated the other; "well, yes. But tell me, do you come to serve him, or simply to enjoy the privileges that your rank gives you at his court?"

"A hard question, n.o.ble lord," answered Siddha, frankly, "and one I have never put to myself; but still I can answer without difficulty, that, above all, I should desire faithfully to serve the Emperor, as far as honour and duty allow. My having entered into his service of my own free will testifies to this."

"Prudently answered," remarked the stranger; "but now the question is, what do you understand by honour and duty?--those are difficult words to explain."

"For some," replied Siddha; "but I do not find them so. I take them in their strongest meaning. Honour and duty would forbid me to undertake anything against my country, even if Akbar himself should give the orders; and in that case to give up all the privileges secured to me by his favour."

"And you would do well," replied the other, approvingly; "but what reasons have you for imagining that the Emperor would ever require from you what would be to the prejudice of yourself and your countrymen?"

For a moment Siddha hesitated, as the conversation with his uncle crossed his mind. But quickly recovering himself, and looking in the stranger's open face, he asked, with no further introduction, "Is not Akbar ambitious?"

"Young man," exclaimed the stranger, in a tone and with a look that made Siddha involuntarily shrink from his side, "until now you have contented yourself with prudent remarks; but, at the court of Akbar himself, so to express yourself to a perfect stranger appears to me rather rash."

"It may appear so," answered Siddha, without embarra.s.sment. "I do not know you, that is true; but to know your name or rank is indifferent to me. I see you and hear your voice, and know that it would be impossible for you to betray or harm a young and inexperienced man, who has trusted you and spoken frankly."

These simple words caused a look of pleasure to cross the stranger's countenance, not of flattered vanity, but a n.o.bler and purer feeling of satisfaction. Flattery was not strange to him, nor was he insensible to it. But these were words from the heart, spoken in ignorance of who he was, and praising in him that which he prized above everything.

He said, laying his hand on Siddha's shoulder, while his voice sounded gentler, "What you have said is true. You trust me, you say, though you do not know me; do the same when the time comes that you know me well. But now for Akbar. He is ambitious: in that you are right. I know him, and all is not so well as I could wish, and I agree that he is ambitious; but then, in what way? Do you really believe that his only desire is to add more and more kingdoms and peoples to his empire, which already is far too extended? Should he not be content with what he already has? I think the small kingdom of Agra and Delhi were his sole inheritance. Little if anything else was left him by Humayun, [67] his unfortunate and sorely tried father; and at present his dominions extend from the borders of Persia to the furthest extremes of Bengal, and to the districts of the Dakhin and Golkonda. Then why do you imagine to yourself new conquests, and especially that of your far-distant Kashmir, which would not repay the many sacrifices that would be necessary to attain it. Still, reasons might arise which would force a prince no longer to respect the independence of neighbouring states; that is, if they should threaten to become dangerous for the peace and prosperity of his own people. And in such a case he must act, although he would gladly leave his sword in the scabbard; and although the peace and liberty of surrounding nations are as dear to him as those of his own dominions. Still all this does not prevent the descendant of Baber and Timur [68] from being ambitious; and from his earliest manhood his ambition has been not only to found a great and mighty empire, but, above all, to ensure the happiness, prosperity, and cultivation of the people that the great Power has entrusted to him. He has striven to improve their condition, and to calm the jealousies and divisions of the different races, to put an end to religious disputes, and to bridle the tyranny and oppression of the powerful and selfish n.o.bles. He has tried to benefit the industrious cla.s.ses of Bengal, and striven to increase prosperity everywhere, to encourage science and art, and to raise his subjects to a state of cultivation and enlightenment for which many have shown great apt.i.tude. Say, if you will, frankly, that this is too much for one mortal to accomplish, and I shall not contradict you; but the striving after an ideal should not be condemned even if it is unattainable. And, in truth, Akbar's own ideal will never be fulfilled. How many years of thought and toil has he devoted to this goal; and how far, alas! is he now from attaining it!"

With respect and awe Siddha listened, as, carried away with his subject, the stranger rose to his feet, lifting his hand toward heaven; but as he finished, dejectedly he sank back, bending his head on that breast which contained a warm and n.o.ble heart. For a moment Siddha felt inclined to rise to his feet, not doubting but that he saw before him the Emperor himself; but then the idea that so great a man should so confide in a young, unknown stranger appeared too absurd to be reality. As he was about to attempt, by roundabout questions, to find out with whom he was speaking, approaching footsteps interrupted the conversation, and presently a man appeared, short and bent, clad in grave garments, and with what was rare at court, a thick black beard.

"Abdul Kadir," [69] said the stranger, more to himself than to Siddha, while a dark cloud crossed his countenance. Notwithstanding, he greeted the new comer with courtesy, at the same time making him a sign that he wished to remain unknown.