CHAPTER XX.

MEHER AND MŪSHTERI—CONTINUED.

THE CAPTIVES—ARREST AND TRIAL—ROYAL FAVOR—THE SENTENCE.

A caravan which was approaching Khārizm was observed to have in custody two prisoners, who had evidently been cruelly beaten. The report was carried to the city, and the king’s officers were sent out to investigate the circumstances. They questioned the owner of the caravan in relation to the matter, and he informed them that these men were his slaves, who had escaped from his service and carried off with them large quantities of stolen goods; he had pursued them many days and at great expense, had finally captured them, but had succeeded in obtaining only a small portion of his merchandise, the rest having been sold and the proceeds expended in riotous living.

The man was evidently a Persian, and the captives seemed to be Persian also, therefore the story seemed probable, and the officers returned to the king with the statement that the matter had been fully investigated, and that the master of the caravan had evidently good reasons for whatever severity might have been used, and thus the matter was allowed to rest, while the strangers encamped in security just outside the city limits. A close guard was kept over the prisoners, and they were constantly told that if they varied from this story, in case they were questioned, that their lives should pay the forfeit of their imprudence. In view of the dreadful beating they had already received, they had good reason to believe that they would not only be murdered, but that, too, in the most barbarous manner, in case of exposure; Mūshteri decided to tell the truth if he were questioned, whatever the result might be, but there was little prospect that such an opportunity might present itself, for they were not only closely guarded, but the indolent officers of the crown were glad to have the matter so easily disposed of.

After a few days of rest, therefore, in the suburbs, Behrām gave the order to proceed, and the men under his command slowly packed the camp utensils, and the caravan made its way into the city, where some of the merchant’s goods were offered for sale. The rich Persian stuffs brought high prices, and the burdens of the pack animals were not only lightened but the master was rapidly changing his wealth into a more portable form. One of the attendants of Meher was attracted by the sale, for with his longing for home was mingled a desire to obtain some of the goods which had a familiar look in their fabric. He was merely looking on, however, at a short distance, for the crowd around the caravan was not easy to penetrate, and he wondered in an indolent way what portion of Persia the new comers were from, when he was startled by the sound of a familiar voice; the indifference in his manner quickly vanished, and he listened eagerly until he heard it again, for he could not at first recall the tone that seemed so strangely familiar. He pressed anxiously nearer, and at last caught sight of the face of Behrām, who was so deeply engaged in the sale of his goods that he did not notice an eager look upon the face of one of the bystanders, and the man hurried away to carry the news to Meher. Feeling that he had possibly found a clue to the whereabouts of his friend, the prince applied for an interview with the king; but his cordial relations with royalty had been greatly interrupted by what the monarch chose to consider his indifference to the princess, and he refused to see him, sending out a message to the effect that he was too busy to be interrupted.

The prince sent his friend back to watch, unobserved, the movements of the caravan, and also to see if possibly he might not have been mistaken in the identity of Behrām. This was all he could do at present, and he realized that even if it should prove to be his old attendant his discovery might not lead to any information concerning Mūshteri. The man returned, however, to Meher with the information that it was surely Behrām, and he carried two captives, but they were so closely guarded that it was impossible to see who they were. In an agony of suspense the prince again applied for an audience with the king, but only to meet with a second refusal. In the morning he learned that, having sold all the goods which he wished at present to dispose of, Behrām was preparing to leave the city.

ARREST AND TRIAL.

Meher would have been willing to follow and attack him with the aid only of his own attendants, but he knew that in case of an attack Behrām’s first act would be to slay his captives, whoever they might be; he therefore wrote a most piteous appeal to the king, saying that he knew the owner of the caravan to be a man of basest purpose, and beseeching that he might at least be arrested and more thoroughly examined.

Keiwan at last consented to this plan, but the caravan was already two days’ journey from the city. The king’s officers overtook them, and brought them back to appear before the tribunal in the council hall. Meher had succeeded in obtaining an audience with the king, who treated him with great formality. He consented, however, that the prince should be present at the forthcoming examination of the prisoners, and he chose to do so without being himself observed.

Behrām and his slaves were brought into the hall and the prisoners were also compelled to appear, all the excuses of Behrām having been unavailing with the officers, who had strict orders from Keiwan. Meher looked closely and anxiously at them from behind his screen, but they had been so completely changed by the barbarous treatment to which they had been subjected that he could not recognize them. Feeling grievously disappointed, he lost to a great extent his interest in the trial, for he cared little to have Behrām punished merely as a matter of revenge.

The owner of the caravan was first plied with questions, and he told with great freedom the story which he had first given to the king’s officers. He declared that both of his prisoners were his former slaves, and one of them being his treasurer had been intrusted with large sums of money; he had betrayed his trust, however, and with his companion had stolen a vast amount of money and jewels, taking them to a foreign land. The owner had pursued them at great expense of both time and money, and now having secured them he was taking them back to deliver them up to the proper officers. He then called his slaves to swear to the truth of his story, which they promptly did.

As the story proceeded, Meher was stirred with indignation, and with great difficulty succeeded in keeping his place behind the screen. He contented himself, however, with writing out questions to be asked the prisoner, and sending them by his attendant to the proper officer.

In this way he soon had the traitor involved in a mass of hopeless contradictions and lost in wonder at the ingenuity of a stranger who seemed to understand his entire history.

At last one of the captives was brought forward to testify in his own behalf, and Mūshteri took the stand. His head had been shaved and his face painted; his clothing was in fragments, and he was so weakened by the brutalities to which he had been subjected that he could hardly stand. His own mother would not have recognized him when he was led forward, but when the first question was put to him and he began to reply, the tones of his voice carried his identity to Meher, and, unable to conceal his emotions, the prince came quickly forward and caught him in his arms. The captive gave one glad cry of recognition, and then fainted at the feet of his friend. Keiwan was melted to tears by this scene of fraternal devotion, and, quickly giving an order to have Behrām placed in irons, he called for restoratives to be applied to the victim of his cruelty. The face of Mūshteri was bathed in rose water, and when he revived he was driven with Bader to the apartments of the prince.

Their wounds were carefully dressed, and the most delicate food placed before them; wardrobes were provided, and every luxury that art could devise or money could purchase, was placed at their disposal.

Long hours were spent in recounting to each other the history of the past, before Meher could consent to leave his friend, even to visit the palace.

ROYAL FAVOR.

When Meher again applied for an interview with the king, his request was not refused, for Keiwan could but honor the loyalty of a man who had so persistently followed his friend, and at last rescued him from the hands of a man who would soon have murdered him in the most barbarous manner but for the timely intercession of the prince.

After enjoying the cordial reception which the king vouchsafed to him, Meher said: “I have a right to speak to thee now, for no other duty intervenes. I come before thee as the heir of the Persian throne, and come to ask the hand of the beautiful princess in marriage. Having discharged the most sacred duties of friendship, I ask thee to give me also the blessings of love.”

The king replied that the man who could be so loyal in his friendship could not be unworthy the hand of even the princess Nahīd, and their betrothal was formally sealed.

A message was sent to the apartments of Nahīd to inform the happy princess of her betrothal to the man she loved, and thus it happened that in an Eastern court a woman’s heart was given with her hand. She was not allowed to see her lover, even the stolen interview in the garden being looked upon as criminal; but she told the story to the bulbul in the rose-tree, and the bulbul sang a sweet new tune as he looked down into the sheltered nest where three blue eggs were waiting the touch of life.

The princess told her story to the lotus blossoms, and they breathed a sweeter fragrance; she told the pomegranate tree that had witnessed their first betrothal, and the rich flowers grew more vivid and seemed to tremble with a new happiness; the sunbirds flew more joyously through the branches of the trees, and even the skies were of rose and pearl.

THE SENTENCE.

There came a day when Behrām was brought forth from his dark cell to receive his sentence, and there beside the throne stood Meher and Mūshteri, while Bader was only a little way in the background.

The face of the culprit was dark with shame and the poison of defeated malice, as he stood in the presence of those whose lives he had so nearly wrecked. There was a cloud even upon the face of the prince, for he remembered the suffering which this man had brought upon the friend of his boyhood, and, more than all, upon his gentle mother in her loneliness and grief.

The list of his crimes was formally read to the prisoner, and then his sentence was pronounced by the king, and the executioner was ordered to lead him away.

Mūshteri looked upon the guilty wretch before him, and remembered the years of malice with which this man had followed him. He remembered the faithful father who but for him might still be living, and he felt that the sentence was just, but was not mercy the better part of valor? Could another death bring back the dead or aid in any way the living? Surely not; and stepping forward with the grace of one who was accustomed to the presence of royalty, he besought the king to forgive this relentless foe and let him go back in peace to his aged father. Keiwan looked in astonishment upon this gallant youth who could plead for so relentless a foe, almost as soon as he was released from his power, and he hesitated to grant the strange request.

Mūshteri then knelt before the king and continued his plea, while the officers of the court looked on in wonder. At last, however, the king yielded, and told Mūshteri that he might loosen the bonds of the prisoner. There was no reproach in the kind eyes of the victor as he came forward and unfastened with his own hands the fetters of Behrām. The prisoner looked amazed and humiliated; he had nerved himself to meet the executioner with a sullen courage; but freedom, and that, too, from the man whom he had so grievously and persistently wronged, he was unprepared for, and he broke down in a flood of tears.

Mūshteri led him to the door of the council chamber, and bade him go to his home and friends. “Alas!” said he, “I have no home—I have no friends. I have outraged the confidence of the Shāh, there is no room for me in his dominions, and even the father who taught me the lessons of hypocrisy is now ashamed of his son. I have no home but the desert—no friend but death.”

He went away, but the disappointed malice, and the hopeless future, had wrought a change in the strong man that he was powerless to overcome; he returned to his caravan which had been restored to him by the intercession of Meher and Mūshteri, but in a few days his lifeless body was found upon the plains, and his servants claimed that he had died by his own hand.

Footnote 261:

About A.D. 1200.

Footnote 262:

Born A.D. 1141, and died A.D. 1203.

Footnote 263:

Kais was the proper name of the lover, but he received the cognomen of Majnun on account of his madness.

Footnote 264:

Except the desert scene, the poetical extracts in this chapter are from Atkinson’s translation.

Footnote 265:

Zemzem is the sacred well enclosed by the temple at Mecca, and even a stone dipped in its waters is thought to possess marvelous virtues.

Footnote 266:

Born at Balkha, A.D. 1297.

Footnote 267:

A.D. 1176.

Footnote 268:

Some authorities say that he died at the age of one hundred years, while others claim that he lived to be one hundred and sixteen.

Footnote 269:

Journal Asiatique, Jan., 1843.

Footnote 270:

From Davies’ version.

Footnote 271:

From Gladwin’s Translation.

Footnote 272:

A.D. 1388.

Footnote 273:

It is claimed that he used ninety thousand human heads in erecting pyramids to illustrate his horrible triumph.

Footnote 274:

Timur was also of Mongol origin, and a descendant of Genghis Khan.

Footnote 275:

Khizer was the prophet who, according to Oriental tradition, discovered and drank of the Fountain of Life, and it was he who bore the nectar to the waiting poet.

Footnote 276:

Most of the Asiatic poets are Sufis, and claim to prefer the meditations of mysticism to the pleasures of the world. Their fundamental tenets are that nothing exists, absolutely, except God, and that the human soul is an emanation from his essence, and will finally be restored to him.

Footnote 277:

Sidrah—Tree of Paradise.

Footnote 278:

Bichnel’s Trans.

Footnote 279:

Finished about A.D. 1575.

Footnote 280:

A.D. 1611.

Footnote 281:

A.D. 1430.

Footnote 282:

Haji Luft Ali.

Footnote 283:

A.D. 1556-1605.

Footnote 284:

A.D. 1585-1628.

Footnote 285:

Herodotus IX.

Footnote 286:

Ousley, Biog. Pers. Poets, p. 202.

Footnote 287:

A very popular style of decoration in Persia is the kainah-karree; while the plaster is yet soft, the surface is inlaid with minute mirrors of every conceivable shape. The amount of work and skill necessary to inlay a room in this style is almost incalculable, and although the materials are comparatively cheap, the immense amount of labor required make the work very expensive. The effect, however, is one of bewildering splendor as if the light were flashed from the polished facets of millions of gems.—_Benjamin, Persia and Persians, p. 279._