Chapter XV

OF MY SECOND DELIVERANCE FROM EXTREME PERIL OF DEATH.

Now after this escape we went on pretty steadily, keeping ourselves as remote as possible from the vicinage of men, and prolonging our two marches as late as we might with safety. Towards evening we met with an encounter which at first cost us no little alarm, but which proved to be excessively to our advantage. For riding in the shade of a grove of great trees, we saw coming towards us an ancient Brachmine, very meanly apparelled. Compassionating his sorry appearance, the viscount saluted him courteously, and offered him an alms, which he accepting, turned, and looked shrewdly at my friend.

“Master,” says he, “we have met before.”

“Nay?” says the viscount, speaking lightly, though his countenance changed somewhat. “I han’t no recollection on’t. Where was it that we met, old man?”

“In the hole of the Mountain-Rat,” says the Brachmine, meaning that strong place or fortress of Seva Gi’s called Rairey.

“Is’t possible?” saith my friend. “I can’t yet call your face to mind. Stay,--is it indeed Vincaly Row[127]?”

“I am he,” says the old man, not without pride.

“I had not looked to find Seva Gi’s chief friend and manager alone and disguised in the Mogul’s country,” says the viscount. “Sure you can’t have forgot that jest of the courtiers which said that where Vincaly Row was found, there Seva Gi himself might be looked for not long after?”

“That jest is still true,” said the old man. “I am here, and my lord an’t far behind me.”

“What! in the Mogul’s dominions?” cried my friend.

“If he ben’t in ’em yet, he soon will be,” says the Brachmine.

“Is he marching on Dhilly?” asked my friend, his eyes flashing. “Sure here will be feats of arms such as the world hath rarely seen. I am well pleased to find myself here at such a time.”

“Nay, he goes not to Dhilly,” saith Vincaly Row. “He is here only on a private errand, the taking of his revenge on Cogia Bux,[128] the governor of Tashpour.”

“I have heard of him,” said the viscount. “He led the Mogul’s army in Conchon some years since, and was highly esteemed as a person of much valour and prudence.”

“Ay,” saith the old Brachmine, “but he came once too near to Seva Gi for his safety now. The king was out on a hunting expedition, and halted for the night, with but two or three followers, at the house of a certain landowner. Hither, after midnight, come Cogia Bux with a great force, guided by a treacherous slave, and was got as far as the threshold of the king’s chamber before an alarm was raised. There was but three men with my lord, one of ’em being Madda Gi,[129] his cousin, a young man of extreme promise. He sprang to the door of the chamber, crying out to Seva Gi, ‘Escape, my lord! We will keep the door.’ And thereupon the king, tying together coverlets and _turbants_ for to make a rope, did let himself down through the lattice and escaped (the house standing on the margent of a steep), but the two soldiers and Madda Gi were slain fighting. Which, when the king heard, he was prodigiously grieved, and made haste to send a message to Cogia Bux, saying, ‘Tell Cogia Bux that when he visited upon me the door was shut’” (speaking of their manner of civilly denying oneself to a troublesome visitor), “‘but I swear on my good sword Bowanny that I will do myself the honour of returning his visit, and when I come to Tashpour the door will not be shut.’”

“And ’tis on this errand he is now come?” says my friend.

“Ay,” says the old man, “for he was minded to go against the King of Gulconda at this time, but the tears and entreaties of Seta Bye,[130] the mother of young Madda Gi, declaring that her son was left to die unavenged, prevailed upon him to proceed first against Cogia Bux. As you may well perceive, all his hopes of success hang on his being speedy and secret, but in these two things my master wan’t never yet found wanting.”

“And we may hope to reach him?” asked the viscount.

“If you come on him before he make his attempt on Tashpour,” says the old Brachmine. “If you be later than that, there will be but smoking ruins for to greet you. But at present he is only some three or four days’ journey from you by this road, and little over two days’ by a rough way that I will show you.”

Then by means of drawing with his staff in the dust, he showed us the way he meant, and presently departed on his journey again, with our much thanks. And that night we encamped ourselves in a thick wood, where we lay in much discomfort for fear of the wild beasts, hearing them howling around us. And indeed, so greatly terrified was our men by the alarms of that night that they prayed of us to spend the next among human creatures. And though we did this with great fear and trembling, lest our evil fame should have spread before us, yet we found that this wan’t needed, for the whole place was already in a ferment, and that for a reason that lay in front of us, and not behind. For the Gentues were all mighty gratified and proud, as having heard of Seva Gi’s advance, while the Moors were anxious and uneasy.

All this was pleasing to us, as confirming that we had learned from Vincaly Row, and when we were safely lodged that night in the rest-house of the village, and had supped well, though not extravagantly, my friend and I discoursed much of the means whereby we might soonest place ourselves in security. For it seemed, by what the Brachmine had told us, that to reach the Moratty army by the shortest way we must needs pass through a rugged country, extreme difficult to traverse with such a train as ours, while the other way, where there was a good road enough, should occupy us still two or three days. And moreover, between us and Seva Gi there lay the strong fortress of Tashpour, whence, as we had no doubt, Cogia Bux would be looking forth for us, and our train being so large, it was little like that we should be able to slip past him. These difficulties that threatened us we discussed with great freedom, at one time even purposing to abandon all our stuff (which, though valuable, was little in comparison with life), and take the short road with only our men. But telling this to Loll Duss, who was making ready where we should lie that night, he showed himself prodigiously concerned, and entreated with much respect that we would allow him to make a certain proposition to us. Which we permitting, he begged of us to leave our train in his care, both the men and all the beasts, that he might conduct it to the camp of Seva Gi by the longer road, while we, the viscount and I, rid on without encumbrance by the short way. It went to his heart (said the honest fellow) that we should be left without the attendance suited to our quality, but by submitting to this trifling inconvenience we should be secure of regaining in the space of a few days all our goods, in the stead of being compelled to undertake the rest of our journey without ’em. And this plan of his seeming to us very good and well-considered, we gave to’t our attention, and went to bed resolved upon adopting it.

And setting out in the morning as usual, lest the villagers should perceive our divided forces, we separated from one another at some distance from the place where we had slept, our servants and _cooleys_ taking the road to the left hand, and my friend and I that to the right. Meanwhile, I was not a little exercised in my mind as to whether we were doing the best we might, and did give Loll Duss many commands touching what he should do in respect to certain dangers, as that in case of any pursuit made of them, they must all leave their packs and escape into the woods, not rashly perilling their lives for such poor silly stuff as beds and kettles. In all this he heard me very patiently, though I am well assured he would never have suffered any such thing to be done, and so we separated from them, my friend and I riding on in the sweet morning air, the which was mighty soft and agreeable, with as little concern as if that were not to be the most weighty day of both of our lives, or at least of mine.

Through all the morning we held on at a good pace, our horses being sound and swift, and at noon or thereabouts halted for a rest of two hours, for more we dared not take, if we were to reach Seva Gi and his army by sunset. Setting out again on our journey after this time of repose, we found that we must needs progress with great circumspection, since we now beheld very clearly the great citadel of Tashpour frowning from its lofty steep before us. And here the viscount showed very evidently the value of that training he had received, for his eye told him of every ridge and every grove that might afford us concealment in our riding, and we were well abreast of the fortress before we were forced to relinquish our cover. But here that which we had hailed as our salvation became, so to speak, a destruction unto us, for we had been riding in the shadow of the edge of a certain great wood, so that even had any been watching for us from the castle they had scarce been able to perceive us against the dark trees, and now we come full upon a huge quag or morass, wherein my horse had like to have sunk before I could turn him and get him out. And looking to see where this quag might end, we found that it spread into the wood for some distance (making a dark and loathsome mire and mud, very hideous to behold), nay, we could not reach with our eyes the furthest limits on’t, so that our sole plan was to ride out upon the plain and fetch a compass about it. And this, because time pressed, and we might not search in the wood, to seek the other end on’t, we did set about immediately, though doing our best to ride leisurely, so as any perceiving us might take us only for honest countrymen bent on their occasions. But when we come out upon the plain, our beasts and we were evidently visible against the clear green colour of the rushes by the side of the quag, and before we could even circle round the end on’t, the viscount bid me look round, and I obeying saw a troop of horse coming out of a gate of the castle in pursuit of us.

Now these men were so close after us that they arrived at the side of the quag nearest to the fortress when we were still riding along the further margent thereof with all possible haste for to regain our road, so that they did let fly at us with their matchlocks, as hoping thereby to cripple and so delay us. But by God’s great mercy they hit neither my friend nor me, their bullets all falling short of us, save one only, which did strike my friend’s horse, making it halt and stagger for a moment. But he calling out to it cheerfully, for he was used always to speak to his beast as though it were indeed a rational creature that could understand him, it went on again bravely, and we two rid away at our utmost speed along our road.

“At any rate, sir,” says the viscount, laughing, “this shrewd pursuit saves us from the need of seeking cover for ourselves. Our safety now hangs on speed, and not on concealment.”

“You are right, sir,” says I, and we rid on at a brisk pace, though holding our beasts well in hand in case of any fresh danger’s threatening us in front. Looking back upon occasion to see our pursuers, we beheld them at an agreeable distance enough, for their horses wan’t so good as ours, and themselves heavier armed.

“If we can but keep up this pace, sir,” says I, “we shall hold our own well.”

“Our beasts can do more than this, sir, if need be,” says the viscount, not knowing of the misfortune that was about to befall us. For as we rid, we came suddenly upon a river, which, though not very deep in appearance, had its banks so high and steep that we must needs ride along some distance to find a place where to descend them, whereas our enemies knew the spot, and made straight for it. Happily, we reached it first, though with no time to spare, and putting our horses to the water, swam them over, mounting the other bank in safety only a moment before the pursuers reached the first one. ’Twas well for us that they had not tarried to load their matchlocks again after firing ’em off, so that they could not shoot at us, but they were so close behind us that we set our horses to their utmost speed and tasked them sorely that we might get a good start once more. So well did the good beasts obey us that we gained rapidly upon them, and had soon near resumed our former lead, though we durst not slacken our pace again as yet.

“We shall distance ’em yet, sir,” cried the viscount, casting a glance behind him, but even as he spoke, his horse began to totter and breathe heavily. My friend’s face grew pale, but he said nought to me, only cheering the beast with his voice. But I, remembering the bullet that had struck it beside the quag, saw that the gallop across the plain had pressed it too hard, and that it must soon fail, and at the same time there come into my mind a thought that did set my heart a-beating quickly. So strongly did it seize upon me, that I saw at once it must be obeyed, and yet (I am almost ashamed to write it) I felt myself hang back from following it. Sure you would think that this life of mine, that was of so little value even to myself, and still less to others, would be resigned without a pang; but ’twas not so, and in that moment I did learn the foolishness of all those idle vapourings of mine touching my blighted existence, and the ease and carelessness wherewith I would depart from it. For I found myself cling even to that precarious hope on’t which now remained, and ’twas with a prodigious effort that I made up my mind to do the thing that now presented itself to me, and so make the only amends in my power for my former presumption towards Madam Heliodora, and for the evil thoughts I had cherished against her servant. Now while these thoughts was yet in my mind, the viscount’s beast was becoming more and more feeble, so as I saw it could not long keep on its feet, and even as we were about mounting a slight ascent, it reared up and fell dead beneath him. And upon this I did dismount, as though to help him to arise from the ground.

“Come, sir,” says I, pulling him to his feet, for he was fallen partly under the beast, though mercifully not much hurt, “mount my horse. We han’t no time to lose.”

“Will he carry double?” says he, looking round as though dazed by his fall, but obeying me. “’Tis but a chance, but we may essay it.”

I helped him into the saddle, and would fain have started the horse with a blow, but he suspected my design, and turned round.

“Why don’t you mount, sir?” says he.

“The beast can’t carry both of us,” says I, starting the horse and running by his side, as though accompanying him, “and your life is of more value than mine.”

“Sir,” he cried, very angry, and striving to stop the horse, “have you forgot that I am a gentleman, and I hope, a Christian, and do you look for me to leave you to perish?”

“Sir,” says I, “I owe a great obligation to Mademoiselle de Tourvel, and do desire to acquit myself on’t. And moreover, you have her ladyship to consider, to whom you owe love and protection for the rest of your life, and I have no one that need care whether I live or die. I have often been weary of my life, and I am well pleased for’t to end in such a manner as this.”

“Am I to forsake you, my friend, the man that saved me out of my captivity and brought me back to hope?” cries he. “Never, sir! Let us mount together, if you will, and seek to escape so long as we may, and then die fighting back to back, like men.”

“No, sir,” says I, “for this I will tell you, which I had not looked ever to tell any living soul again. There has come to me in my past life an irreparable loss, so great as nothing imaginable can avail to compensate me therefor, and after this I don’t care to live longer. Mademoiselle de Tourvel will unfold my meaning to you if you ask her; but I pray you, ask no more of me.”

The viscount looked down into my face, and saw, as I fancy, my history wrote there plain, for he took away his eyes, and “_May God help you, sir_,” says he.

“You perceive by this, sir,” says I, “that ’tis your duty to live for her ladyship, and mine to enable you so to do. Go on and reach safety, and enjoy your happiness with Madam Heliodora, and bid her forgive me and think kindly of me. Farewell, and God be with you.”

But he would not depart thus, and stopping the horse, catched me in his arms and embraced me, after the French fashion, weeping the while, until I bid him hasten on, or he should yet be taken. And at this he went on, yet with many tears, and turning round for to bid me farewell once more, and I was left behind, panting from the running and the turmoil of my thoughts, but joyful and glad of heart for that by my sacrifice I had secured the happiness of that noble lady and her servant.

Now my constant enemies (for indeed my enemies are as constant and as curious in their arts as were ever the friends of Job) are accustomed to declare that I acted thus from I don’t know what wicked design, or else that I had good reason to suppose the means of rescue to be near at hand, which indeed I could not, unless by the aid of prophetic powers, to the which I don’t pretend. But in answer to these persons, I may confess, although it be but a sorry confession for an Englishman and one that hath seen many climates, that when I had suffered my friend to depart, and turned my eyes to behold the advance of those bloody and brutal men, that were now close upon me, ’twas with the greatest trembling that ever I felt in my life.

Then they, coming up quickly, did lay hold upon me with little gentleness and many ill words, and after binding my arms behind me, and also making me fast with a thong of leather to one of their saddles, did hale me with ’em back to the castle. And in this journey I did endure such discomforts from the heat, the dust, and the smart pace that my captors kept up, that I had no leisure to ponder over my situation, nor even to do anything but continue the march. Yet this I was glad to perceive--viz., that before we reached the castle there catched us up certain of the band that had been sent for to pursue the viscount further, and declared that they must needs let him go, for that all their chasing was of no avail. And I, understanding their Persian tongue, wondered much what new thought had seized my friend, that he should so soon have forgot his prudent design of saving his beast in case of some fresh danger, and be now riding so fast as to have distanced thus easily and thus quickly all that were following him. But such speculation as this was of little moment, and I forgot it speedily when I was carried up that steep and winding road, commanded at every point from the ramparts above, which leads into the castle of Tashpour. This is the only way whereby the fortress may be approached, for on all the other sides the rock is so high and steep as even a goat could not make shift to climb it, and the fortifications at the top, which were built by the Moguls on their first settlement of the country, are in every way worthy of the repute of that famous and warlike nation, and equal to any in Europe.

Now I being brought up into the castle, they did take me before Cogia Bux the governor, a person of so ferocious an aspect and discourse that I looked for nothing else than immediate death at his hands; but I soon perceived that he durst not hurt me, being commanded to deliver me up alive at Agra, there to be dealt with as the emperor himself might determine. And at this I was sorry, both as anticipating a more dreadful and lingering death than any they had skill to devise here, and also as finding prolonged this disagreeable space of waiting and looking for death. But for all this, I would not seem to show myself afeared before these heathens, but did talk very big, telling them that those I served would never suffer me to be badly used. But at this they did laugh mightily, telling me that none of my friends should so much as stir a finger to help me, since ’twas those of ’em that were at Agra had given the intelligence that led to my apprehension. And in this, methought, I perceived the hand of Mr Spender, but forbore to dwell upon it in my thoughts, desiring to die in peace and charity with all mankind. Then they did cast me into a very deep and noisome dungeon, reminding me rather of the _Aljuvar_ at Goa than of my cell in the Holy House, and bid me be prepared to set out the next day for Agra. And I, being thus left to myself, and foreseeing that in travelling with profane and heathen guards around me I should have little opportunity for profitable meditation and such as suited with my case, gave my mind to consider my situation.

Now the thought of my present estate brought to me some little comfort, inasmuch as my misfortune was due to no fault of my own, and had, as I hoped, secured the happiness of two much worthier persons. But next my meditations turned upon my past life, and here I found little to console me, for it seemed that since my marvellous deliverance at Goa I had done little but go from bad to worse. And first I considered my temptation at St Thomas, and recalled with shame how easily I had been led by the nose, as we say, by my lord marquis, almost to the betraying my duty and the dishonouring myself. And after this I thought of my life at Amidavat, and of the pain I had caused to my good friend Mr Martin, and likewise his attempts to lead me into a more worthy and Christian course, and my declaration that I was no worse than others. Then that come into my mind which the strange old seaman, Substitution Darrell, had said to me aboard the Boscobel--namely, that where force had failed to rob me of my faith, other measures might succeed--and I perceived at last that this was not far removed from being true with me. I saw, also, how I had come forth from my imprisonment at Goa proud and haughty, reckoning myself one that had suffered great things for God, and counting it only just that God should recompense me by giving me in future all things to my liking, so that that word of the apostle’s might have been wrote with an eye to me, _Though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing_. Then I saw how that, applying this fancy of mine to my mad and presumptuous passion for Madam Heliodora, I had conceived myself defrauded of my due in not obtaining her, and had therefore fallen foul of all around me, both God and men, accusing the first of injustice, and regarding the last with scorn and even hatred.

By this means I had wasted, and worse than wasted (not indeed in a material, but a spiritual sense), four of the best years of my life, spending them in peevishness of spirit and in unworthy pleasures, such as might best avail to drown my persuasion of the inequality of my lot to my deserts. Now, when ’twas too late to amend, though not to repent, I perceived my fault, seeing clearly, not only that I had not been fitted for the happiness I sought, but also that it had needed four years to teach me that I had no right to seek happiness at all, but only duty. And this also I saw--viz., that in my repinings after the happiness I could not have, I had lost that which I might have had, as the company of worthy friends, the discourse of ingenious men, the delights of research and discovery, and the like, wherewith many, no better situated than I, have made their lives result not only in good to themselves and solace to their own intimates, but also in great store of elegant observations for the informing of persons in England.

And this thought, moreover, to the which I was come, did bring into my mind that occasion wherein I had most grievously failed in my duty--namely, in breaking my contract with my cousin Dorothy at the bidding of a rash and selfish presumption, and leaving her desolate and bereaved of the hope in the which she was grown up. ’Twas not the first time that this thought was come to me, but before this I had been wont to turn a deaf ear to’t, seeking to stifle it, and thus making my unworthy behaviour worse still. Now, however, I was minded to do this no longer, and as they say that amendment and restitution is the surest sign of repentance, so now I solemnly vowed to myself (though little likely ever to be able to fulfil it), that if by God’s mercy I should ever be released alive from this second captivity, I would at the expiration of the term of my service return to Dorothy, if she should still be unwedded, and marrying her, make to her the best amends in my power for my former evil carriage towards her. And having entered into this resolve, I found myself somewhat easier in my mind, though still bowed down with shame and grief for my unworthy courses, unworthy both in respect to the good teaching I had in my childhood and the honourable traditions of our house, and also with regard to God’s marvellous goodness and care for me throughout my life. Thus then I was brought to cast myself humbly upon the mercy of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and confessing my sins and entreating pardon of Him, to receive an assurance of forgiveness and grace, bringing great peace into my soul. And having thus attained that which my troubled conscience had long lacked, I laid myself down in the dungeon, and so fell asleep.

I don’t know how long I continued in this happy oblivion of my situation, but I awoke at last, hearing what seemed to me strange noises. Now you must know that this dungeon, wherein I lay, was dug deep down in the bowels of the hill whereon the fortress stood, and beside the door whereby I had entered, had intercourse with the outer world only by means of a long and narrow passage, in bigness no more than a hand’s breadth, but leading out in some way to the open air. And it seemed to me now that there come to me through this passage, or air-hole, sounds as of scrambling and of stealthy voices. And first I thought that the Moguls of the place, being determined to secure me while I was in their power, were minded to murder me secretly, and were approaching my dungeon by stealth in this intent. But while I lay with this thought in my mind, trembling and shaking all over, as is the wont of those that awake from sleep by reason of any alarm, the noises seemed to rise higher above me, and so at last to cease. But I, listening with all my ears, heard on a sudden a most dreadful cry or shriek, as of one hurled past my window (if I may call the air-hole so), from above. By this I was assured that there was some fearful work on foot, and rising up from my place, I came as near to the window as my chains would allow me, desiring to assure myself more particularly of what should be happening. But now there come to me from above a great and confused noise of shouting and the clash of arms, so that I could discern that some great battle was going forward.

But though I heard the cries and shrieks (nay, I could even discern from the sounds the moment of each advance and retreat), yet I might not discover who the parties should be, that thus met and fought, until the noises ceased somewhat and the roar of battle was become fainter. Then I heard hollowed[131] lustily, as though by many throats, that battle-cry which had met my ears at the time of my rescue at Goa--namely, “_Hoor! Hoor! Mohawdio!_” This sound recalled to me at once that former scene, and did cast me into a state of great confusion of mind, so that when the cry was growing less loud to my ears, as though they that used it had gathered themselves together and were marching away, I did sink down in a corner trembling and perplexed. And thereafter heard I many such confused and strange noises as never before out of my dreams, but there was no means for me to determine what was the issue of all that had happened. For I could not but suppose that Seva Gi and the Morattys, whose war-cry I had heard, had made an attempt by night on the place, and succeeded in surprising the sentinel, and so gaining a footing on the walls, but how they fared thereafter, and whether they still held their ground, or had been drove over the cliffs, I could not discover, not though the question was of the deepest moment to me. With such patience, then, as I could muster, I waited until the sun’s rays began to pierce feebly into the dungeon through the air-hole, when also I heard footsteps in the passage outside my door, and other doors opening and closing, as though a jail-delivery were taking place. More than once I heard the footsteps pass my very threshold, but they never tarried there, and at last seemed to depart, while my heart cried out to me that though others was to find enlargement, I was forgot. And this bred in me a terrible frenzy and passion, insomuch that I beat upon the wall with my hands, and called aloud unto them without, my chains not suffering me to approach the door. And this I did, never considering that my fellow-prisoners might only be led out to execution, but possessed with the fear that I was to be left behind to starve. And the sound of the footsteps having now ceased, there was a great silence, while I lay in my corner, plunged in despair. But presently I heard a voice cry very loud in French--

“Mr Carlyon, are you here? If you hear me, cry out aloud, and we will release you.”

I could not mistake the voice of my friend the viscount, and for answer I flung myself again at the wall and battered it with kicks and blows, calling out the while to my friend that if he loved me he should not leave me to perish. And at this he and the men that were with him came and burst open the door, for the key on’t could not be found, and he embraced me very tenderly, and then led me out into the passage, and up many steps to the daylight. And because I was much overcome by the sudden passing from hopelessness to hope, so that for a moment I did cling to his arm and could not stand upright, he would have me sit down, and brought me with his own hand a dram of some cordial, and carried himself so gently and kindly towards me as no woman could have been more tender. And after this he carried me into the great hall, where I had seen the governor, and here was a very stately person of middle age sitting upon a throne, to whom the Morattys were bringing all their spoils from all quarters of the place. And the viscount bowing very low, I perceived that here must be the great Seva Gi, of whom I had so often heard speak. And rising to meet us, I saw that he was of small stature, having arms very long in proportion thereto, and an air of great activity rather than strength, his countenance lively and handsome. Who welcomed me kindly enough, speaking very agreeably to my friend in the Moratty tongue, he answering in the same, which I understood not.

Then the viscount led me away, and brought me into an upper chamber of the castle, sending one of the soldiers for food and wine, and while I did eat and drink, he told me of his doings after our parting. For he said that he had made straight for the Moratty camp, as Vincaly Row had informed us on’t, and speaking in their own tongue to the soldiers that he met, desired of them to carry him at once to their prince, who, recognising him from of old, did receive him with great kindness, and promised to do all in his power for my deliverance. And this promise the king redeemed right nobly, for he called together those of his choicest soldiers that he had brought with him, men well seen in all manner of sieges and escaladoes, and led them himself to surprise Tashpour. And this they accomplished by the help of ladders of ropes, ascending in this way the cliffs deemed unsurmountable, as hath often been done before by the Morattys, and having gained a footing on the ramparts, as I had surmised, beat back the Moguls, and at length made themselves masters of the place. And my friend then seeking among the dungeons for me, had almost missed me, from my cell’s being set in an obscure angle of the passage, had it not been for his assuring himself by his calling to me that I was there.

This, then, was my second great deliverance, but to me ’twas even greater than the first, since now I was set free also from those unhappy thoughts and imaginations that had been my torment for years, and was resolved, so far as lay in my power, to pursue duty alone for the future. And that I might the better do this, I begged of the viscount to make interest with Seva Gi to give us quickly a guard to the coast, that I might bear to Surat the message I was charged withal, and return to my business there. And this the king was good enough to do, although he had at first been minded to have us both, and in especial the viscount, go with him on this campaign, and assist him with our counsel. Now this my friend had been right glad at any ordinary time to fall in with, but he was now so possessed (as well he might be) with the thought of Madam Heliodora, and the desire to hasten to her side, that he delayed not an instant to refuse the Moratty’s invitation, although in the most civil manner imaginable, so that we parted from him the best of friends. So courteously did this barbarian carry himself towards us, that while we tarried with him, he appointed a butcher for our sole service, and had him slay a goat for us every day, since the Gentues eat no flesh-meat, but he, knowing that we Europe men was accustomed thereto, would not suffer us to miss it. And on our departing, he did give us many gifts, yea, even to our servants and _cooleys_, for Loll Duss was arrived at the camp in safety with his train two days after us. Then sending with us a sufficient guard, that should escort us to the gates of Surat, he did bid us farewell, and went on to prosecute that war which for him ended only with his death, the same occurring some three years later than this adventure of ours.

Now we came to Surat, my friend and I, having dismissed our Morattys at a convenient distance outside the city, with thanks and a genteel present, and were received with great amazement by the gentlemen at the Factory, and this amazement was not diminished when our story was told. My good friend Mr Martin, hearing it narrated by the viscount, was fit to embrace us both in his joy and happiness, and made his comment thereon in many strange proverbs, culled from divers tongues. I delivered the message I brought to his honour the President, and as ’twas now manifestly impossible for me to return into the Mogul’s immediate dominions (though here out of danger, as being supposed to have fallen in the sack of Tashpour), another gentleman was sent to convey the answer on’t to Mr Kidder at Agra, and I was given his place in the Factory for the time. The viscount also did his best to repay our Factory for their entertainment of him by instructing divers of the Company’s servants there in the Moratty tongue, I being one of these; but so great was the prejudice wherewith the reported deeds and purposes of the French Factory had invested all their nation in our eyes (the said French Factory being at once so crowded with merchants and so poor that they were thankful to leave the viscount to us for hospitality), that I could not be sorry for my friend’s sake when a means offered for his return to France.

This was a ship of Havre-de-Grace, coming from Phoolcherry and returning home, whose master offered a passage to the viscount, and he departed in her, bidding me farewell with much sorrow, the which I also did experience for his leaving me. But although he did promise to write me concerning all his affairs, so little commerce[132] was there betwixt us and the French that near three years passed before I heard from him, and then I learned that he had found on his arrival in France my lord marquis dead, and this, as they said, rather of a broken heart upon some disgrace he was fallen into with the court, such as had made him be recalled and kept him idle, than of any more exact disease. Madam Heliodora the viscount found dwelling in Paris with a lady of quality that was some kin to her, and they were wedded almost immediately upon his return, departing thereafter to his estate, which was situate on the borders of the provinces of Languedoc and Gascoign,[133] and _where_ (_says he_), _we shall endeavour, with God’s blessing, to spend our lives in alleviating the miseries and amending the situation of such as depend upon us_. And this letter my friend did close with so many and such lofty expressions of the gratitude that both he and his lady experienced towards me, that I can’t quote from ’em; yet I won’t deny but they were very pleasant to me, and that I loved to flatter myself with the belief that these two persons, whom I did so greatly esteem, thanked me for some of the happiness I now contemplated in them by means of this letter. And with this persuasion of the good fortune of both my friends I did content myself during several years that I heard naught from them, believing them to be so greatly busied with their gracious designs for their tenants that they lacked the time to write to me, and never suspecting that first of all their letters had miscarried, nor later that evil was befallen them, until I heard it from their own lips.

Now about a year after my return to Surat our ambassadors came back from Agra, their business well ended, and I, who conceived myself to have, as you may remember, a crow to pick, as we say, with Mr Spender, did demand of him his reason for denouncing me to the Mogul, and thereby imperilling both my life and my friend’s. But instead of betraying shame or confusion, such as you might expect, at my knowledge of his treason, he turned aside my question with the greatest coolness in the world, saying only that ’twas a person’s bounden duty to use any means in his power to succeed in his designs. And I then leaving him, fearing lest in my rage at his effrontery I should lay violent hands upon him, learned from others of the ambassage that the viscount’s escape was at first kept as a secret by the Moguls, but that when it came to the ears of the ambassadors, Mr Spender gained an audience of the emperor, and all for to tell him that our _cooleys_ returned from Gualleyor had spoke of a second Europe man in my train, whose face they had never seen, and this (said Mr Spender), might well be the escaped prisoner. And the Mogul, hearing this, did take those measures to stop us whereof you know already, and showed himself very favourable towards Mr Spender and the rest of the ambassage.