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Updated: August 20, 2024
We had determined to spend the morning in searching for supplies among the earthquake-ruins of Pera; and as I had decided to collect sufficient in one day to save us further pains for some time, we passed a good many hours in this task, I confining myself to the great white house in the park overlooking Kassim, where I had once slept, losing myself in the huge obliquities of its floors, roofs and wall-fragments, she going to the old Mussulman quarter of Djianghir near, on the heights of Taxim, where were many shops, and thence round the brow of the hill to the great French Embassy-house, overlooking Foundoucli and the sea, both of us having large Persian carpet-bags, and all in the air of that wilderness of ruin that morning a sweet, strong, permanent odour of maple-blossom.
It is also known that these ascetics infidels, children of the Devil by charm, or drugs, or otherwise, can cause something like death for days a trance, and the one who goes thus knows not who he was when he comes back," Kassim argued. "Well," Barlow said, "it is a matter unsolvable, and of no importance, for the Gulab, Kumari or otherwise, is a princess, such as men fight and die for."
Kassim snarled, "thy life is forfeit, but the torture will cease; it is reward enough speak!" But the Bagree had the obstinate courage of a bulldog; the nerves of his giant physical structure were scarce more vibrant than those of a bull; as to the torture it was but a question of a slower death. But his life was something to bargain for.
At a wave of Kassim's hand upward the bag of ashes was clapped over the decoit's head, and he was pounded on the back to make him breathe in the deadly dust. Then the bag was taken off, and gasping, reeling, he was commanded to speak the truth. Once Kassim said: "Dog, this is but gentle means; torches will be bound to thy fingers and lighted.
But now it is all explained the wise gentleness that really was in the heart of one so fierce as the Chief Allah rest his soul! What say thou, Captain Sahib?" "Bootea is wonderful," Barlow answered fervidly; "she is like a Rajput princess." Kassim coughed, stroked his black beard, adjusted the hilt of his tulwar, then coughed again. "Inshalla! but thou hast said something."
I cannot forbear quoting here the closing sentence of the letter "Dear friend, the gentle love of the Saviour be with you. When Mar Yohanan returned to Persia after his visit to the United States, in 1843, Prince Malik Kassim Meerza, who could speak a little English, asked him, "What are the wonders of America?"
Kassim ceased speaking and his eyes carried a look of interrogation as if he were anxious for a sustaining of his half-faith in the story. "It's all entirely possible," Barlow declared emphatically; "it's a common practice in India, this deceit as to death where a death is necessary.
He spoke to a Jamadar: "Have brought the leather nosebag of a horse and hot ashes so that we may come by the truth." Then Kassim held the parchment close to the lamp and scanned it. He rubbed a hand across his wrinkled brow and pondered. "Beside the seal here is the name, Rana Bhim," and he turned his fierce eyes on Barlow.
The mingling of women in an affair of men is an abomination in the sight of Allah." When Bootea entered the chamber she gave a gasping cry of horror. The Chief lay upon the floor, face downward, just as he had dropped when slain, for Kassim had said; "Amir Khan is dead, may Allah take him to his bosom, and such things as we may learn of his death may help us to avenge our Chief.
But Bootea's clear voice hushed the rising clamour: "No, Commander, the sahibs know not the thug trick of the roomal, and few thugs could have overcome the Chief." "Who then killed him speak quick, and with the truth," Kassim commanded. He was interrupted by one of Hunsa's guards, crying: "Here, where go you you had not leave!"
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