I am free; for when the trial came, she says, and Gunga called me, I did not leave her."

They did not understand then, to what she alluded; but it was evident that the excited spirit had again wandered into the past, and had returned, more at peace than before.

"Yes," said Fazil," as thou wilt, beloved-thy vow shall be truly paid, at last.”

CHAPTER XXIX.

ON the second morning Fazil's messengers reached Wye, without interruption, tethered their ponies in the courtyard of a temple, where they obtained shelter, and set about the work they had to do without loss of time. Taking their instruments, they wandered into the bazar, and sang their ballads to willing listeners; for the hunchback was a master of his art, and had a willing and skilful pupil in the boy.

"Wast thou not in the camp at Jowly?" said a man coming up to Lukshmun, "and this lad too, before we attacked the Toorks,-and we let thee go? Ah yes, and you promised to sing the hymn of the Goddess at Tooljapoor, and did not return when we were victorious! Ill for you, for you would have had a share of the gold. By the Mother! you shall sing it Come with me!"

now.

Not so," said Lukshmun; "we are engaged to sing at Vishnu Pundit's house-where is it?-and shall be free in the evening only and if thou canst direct me to one Moro Trimmul, a Bramhun, and let me go

VOL. III.

T

now, we will sing an hour at night for as many as you choose to bring to the Temple of Ballajee, where we have put up, and take what you have to give us."

"Moro Trimmul!" cried the man laughing, "thou wouldst have to go deep into hell for him. Where hast thou been, friend, that his fate did not come to thine ears?"

"I was afraid," replied the hunchback; "I fear fighting, sir; and if a drawn weapon is flashed in my face, I faint. So we ran away from Jowly-did we not, my son? and have been travelling about the country ever since, getting what we can. But what of the Bramhun, sir? was he killed in the fight at Jowly?"

"No, no-not there," replied the man; "but he is dead, nevertheless. Some one cut him down the day the Sutee was carried off."

"Ah, yes, I have heard of that, sir; the people have strange stories about it; but who carried her off? and who killed the Bramhun? A Bramhun slain! O the impiety!" continued Lukshmun devoutly; "think of that, my son! A holy Bramhun !"

"I don't know; I was not there," replied the man ;

we were still out at Jowly, or it would not have happened: but they said some of Afzool Khan's men, who were starving, made a Durôra on the Sutee, and carried her off; as to Moro Trimmul, he was no lossa bad man, my friend, though a Bramhun. might have spared the girl, however, for all the use she was to the Bramhuns afterwards. I wonder no one kept her, for she was very lovely they say."

They

"O sir," cried the hunchback innocently; "and did she not live? Who killed her?"

"They say not," he replied; "and that the cruel men killed her for the ornaments she wore. There was a woman's corpse found some days afterwards on their track, and the remains were brought here, and her father was told of it. They say he went mad after that, for he believed they were his child's. He married Moro Trimmul's sister, you know. Ah, it's a curious story altogether."

Indeed,” returned Lukshmun simply; "I should like to hear it all. If I sing for you to-night will you tell it to me?"

"A bargain!" cried the man joyfully; "come to us without fail; we are a jovial lot, and there may be good liquor, and some of the dancers too. I will come for thee. 'Faith, the story of the Moorlee's murder by Moro Trimmul is as good as a scene in a play."

"What Moorlee ?"

"Oh, the Tooljapoor girl, Gunga, who was with him. They found her body under the window of his room at Pertabgurh, hanging in the trees below the precipice, and so the whole came out; but he was dead before then. One of those dare-devil Mussulmans had killed him, and they took some of the Sutee wood, and burnt him there, by the river."

"Ai Bhugwan! O Lord, forgive me for having slain the Bramhun," ejaculated the hunchback to himself; "and I did it too. Well, I can't help hitting hard when I do hit; and truly he had murdered some

one, it appears, so it was only justice after all. Yes, sir," he continued, "I understand. And the Sutee's father?-her name was T-T-T-"

"Tara," said the man; "and her father is Vyas Shastree of Tooljapoor. He is better now, and I saw him a while ago sitting by the porch of Vishnu Pundit's door, weak, but better; people pity him very much. Now I must go. You will not forget?"

"No," said the hunchback; "you will find me at the temple after the lamps are lighted; till then we must sing about the streets. Come, my son. Let us hurry on, boy," continued Lukshmun. "I know the house. Do not pretend to notice any one; we will sing the ballad of the Vow, after the first invocation."

They passed on rapidly: up a few cross streets and alleys, till they reached that in which was the house that they sought. In the covered alcove, beside the outer door, sat several Bramhuns, apparently talking together; one elderly man, covered with a sheet, was reading.

Lukshmun and Ashruf began to sing their ballads at the doors of every house as they advanced, and women from within, came out and gave them handfuls of flour or rice, which were dropped into the bag which Lukshmun carried. Gradually, as they came nearer, the hunchback changed the songs to those of his own country, Canarese and Mahratta in turn, and he was sure there must be some, with which the Shastree was familiar.

Yes, it was he, reading, while the others sat near him, and conversed among themselves; thinner than