"Now was I all the more confirmed in my estimate of his madness. To call such a thing a weapon!--a strip of soft fabric that might kill a b.u.t.terfly but would be poor defence indeed to rely on against sword or dagger. I suppose I smiled contemptuously, for again the man read my thoughts.

"Then instantly did he do a thing that made my blood run cold. With a toss of the scarf into the air, he formed it into a noose, and this he threw over one upbended knee. Next with a swift twist of fierce hands he drew the knot tight, and so terribly realistic was his action that for the moment I saw above his knee the contorted mouth and protruding eyes of his suddenly strangled victim.

"There was horror in my gaze now, but only calm professional pride in his, as he flung back the still looped and knotted kerchief on to the carpet.

"'Yes, I am a strangler,' he said calmly, 'as are all the thugs, born to become stranglers, and taught how to use the roomal in early youth by their own fathers' hands.'

"Of strangling as a means of murder I of course knew, and, indeed, during the years of my magistracy, I had heard vague rumours of robbers habitually resorting to this method of dispatching their victims rather than to clubs or swords. But such appalling dexterity as this man displayed in the handling of an innocent-looking silken scarf I had never imagined.

"'You look dismayed,' commented the miscreant, no longer a madman now to my thinking, but a very dangerous character indeed. 'I am not surprised.

Now prepare yourself for a story that will freeze the very marrow in your bones. Know that I am from Daibul, the city by the sea where great Mother Indus flows into the black waters. There for six months of the year, just before and during the season of the monsoon, I live peacefully in my home, doing no wrong to my fellows, in the eyes of all my neighbours a man of wealth and respectability, who goes periodically to his own country to draw rents from his lands. Little do my friends know that when I do travel it is to worship Bowani by sacrificing to her other travellers on the road. She gives us the omen to kill and we obey her. Once the omen has been declared, it would be sacrilege not to kill her destined victim.'

"'And you rob them too?' I asked discreetly.

"'Oh, naturally. But that is a mere incident. We kill those marked for death by our divine Kali, and she freely bestows on us the wealth of her victims. But we never kill to rob. That would be truly abominable. We kill only in honour of Kali, of Bowani, the all-mighty, great Mother of the Universe. For to her devout worshippers, the thugs, did she not give one of her teeth for a pickaxe, a rib for a knife, and the hem of her lower garment for a noose? So we strangle in her service, and with every victim the act becomes more and more a delight to the soul.' As he spoke, his muscular fingers and wrists automatically went through the motions of tying and drawing the fatal noose. 'Once a man has become a thug, he will remain a thug all the rest of his days. Even if he come to possess the wealth of the world, he will continue to serve Bowani.'

"I had regained my momentarily disturbed composure, and was studying the face of the man before me. It was a fine face, clear-cut, that of a clean liver, unmarked by sensuality, unharmed by wine, keen of intelligence, resolute of will. I could no longer deem him a madman. But I saw I had to do with one so filled with fanaticism that he could look upon murder as religion, plan it without misgiving, execute it without pity, and remember it without remorse. But now there had occurred something so to upset his mental balance that he feared the wrath of his own G.o.ddess and fancied he heard her threatening voice in the air.

"'You have journeyed to Delhi from Daibul?' I asked, prompting him to resume his story.

"'Yes, we were six thugs at the start, with fifteen others, merchants and pilgrims, all of us agreeing to journey together for greater protection on the road. As we proceeded day by day more travellers joined us, some peaceful voyagers, the others thugs to a man. Of the latter several were our own inveiglers, who had gone on in advance to gain the confidence of likely victims and delay them until our coming.

The rest were strangers to us, yet none the less thugs. For we had left signs on the road telling such as could read them that more help was needed and in what direction we were moving; and, although those who responded to this call were in varied disguises, one, perhaps, coming up to us as a petty chief with a mounted escort, another as a merchant with a bullock cart to draw his packages of goods and a servant in attendance, yet another as a juggler or a musician, we could instantly recognize them as belonging to our brotherhood of Bowani by the secret signals with which they introduced themselves.

"'So we fared onward, increasing our numbers until our caravan was full one hundred strong. We walked or rode together, ate together, worshipped at the wayside shrines together, chatted and amused ourselves at night around the camp fire, slept side by side, thugs and our intended victims, until our strength should be sufficient and a suitable place for the final deed attained.

"'At last these two requirements were satisfied. We were now three to one, just the proper proportion--a strangler to use the roomal, a holder of legs, and a holder of arms, three thugs for each man to be sacrificed, so that there could be no mistake, no outcry for help, no possibility of escape for our victims. And one day's journey ahead, as we knew well from previous experience, there was a lonely gorge densely grown with jungle. Here the sacrifice to Bowani would be consummated, so the grave-choosers and the grave-diggers were sent on in advance. We acted now with the certainty of good fortune, for day by day every omen had continued to be propitious, as interpreted by the movements and cries of beasts and birds.'

"The man's story fell on my ears in an even flow. He spoke without emotion. I feared to interrupt with a single word, lest any untoward comment from me should put an abrupt end to the appalling confession. So I just listened while I chewed my betel-nut.

"'On the succeeding night,' continued the thug, 'we reached the nullah.

The camp fire was lighted the bullocks and riding ponies were placed within the circle formed of the carts, for the gorge beneath us was full of wild beasts, and we had even heard the roar of a tiger disturbed from his hunting. The bales and boxes of merchandise had been piled up in heaps, close to where each of the owners would sleep, some on the open ground, some in tents erected by their servants. The evening meal had been cooked and eaten. The half-moon had risen, and at a little distance from the fire a troupe of musicians was performing--zithers were playing, cymbals clanking, tum-tums beating. From the peculiar rhythm of the drums, which all we thugs knew well, we were made aware that the appointed hour had come.

"'Our leader stood in the midst of the gathering, ostensibly warming his hands at the blaze of the fire. Gradually and naturally we took our appointed places, many of them customarily taken before this night so as to excite no suspicion at the final moment. And little did the destined victims of Bowani dream that behind each of them now was an accomplished strangler, with the roomal ready to his hands, while on either side squatted a holder of legs and a holder of arms.

"'Then there happened a thing that will explain, O kadi, why I have come to you this day to tell my story. I am an adept in my craft, and therefore was one of those entrusted to use the roomal. My particular victim was a comely youth, perhaps seventeen years of age--son of a landowner, he had told me in confidence, travelling with a bag of gold mohurs for his father. This lad had been in my close companionship during the journey, and he had come to show great affection for me. I liked him well, but there was no pity in my heart, for it is good to die in honour of Bowani.

"'At last came the signal of death--the jhirnee we call it. Our leader raised aloft his right hand, and said aloud so that all could hear the agreed-upon words: "The moon shines bright to-night." This was our command to act, and in an instant every appointed victim was in the death throes. Five minutes later all were dead--four-and-thirty of them--and not one faintest cry of alarm or of agony had been uttered.

Thus skilfully had our work been done. When all was over, the musicians were still playing their stringed instruments and hand-drums, softly now after a great volume of sound that would have overwhelmed any chance scream of terror.

"'But in the very act of strangling, a dreadful revelation had come to me. Just before the signal was given the lad had turned his countenance toward me, and his eyes were looking into mine. In his fixed regard, as I realized later, there was the glow of love. But this was transformed of an instant into affrighted horror, as my hand at his ear gave the noose the deft and fatal twist. In the s.p.a.ce of a single heart-beat, I saw incredulity change to the realization of sudden death, the first wild appeal for pity turn into rigid despair. But this momentary flash of revelation had shown me something else. It was a maid into whose soul I had gazed. I had put to death a woman.'

"Now for the first time in his narrative did the strangler betray emotion. Bending forward, he raised a hand to shield his quivering features from my scrutiny. I turned away, that he might the better recover himself. After a little time he resumed:

"'Oh, the horror of it!' he cried, uplifting haggard eyes to mine. 'The frightful crime against Bowani! To have killed one of her own s.e.x! For a thug there is no crime in all the world to equal this one. Too late I realized what I had done. But in my first impulse of fear I resolved to keep the dread secret to myself. With my own hands I rifled the body, and laid the spoil of gold and other valuables on the cotton cloth outspread in the moonlight for the reception of such gifts to the G.o.ddess. I removed the outer garments, robes of cost, silken, and heavily wrought with gold. Then, when the grave-diggers emerged from the nullah to show us the places of burial prepared, one for each victim, in my own arms I carried the body down into the darkness, laid it in its narrow bed, filled in the sand, and heaped on top the stones already gathered together in a pile, so that hyenas or jackals should not disturb the grave, finally covering all with brushwood cut and ready, that even the signs of recent excavation should be hidden from prying eyes and the sacrifice to Bowani disclosed to none besides her votaries.

"'I kept my secret--the terrible knowledge that a woman had died at our hands. By the morning dawn the spoil had been divided, and our cavalcade, smaller now by nearly one-third, moved on. At the first cross-roads we split up into several groups, and later on into smaller parties still, so as to divert attention from us. And thus have I come on to Delhi, only I and one other member of that body of thugs, dispersed to a.s.semble again as the omens of the G.o.ddess should direct.

At Delhi we two await another gathering of thugs. But meanwhile my heavy secret has weighed upon my soul. I have heard incessantly, these last few days and nights, Bowani denouncing me as false to her because I have taken the life of a woman in her name, and bidding me hand over all the thugs to the justice of Akbar. Therefore have I come first to you, O kadi, one of the judges of Akbar.'

"I looked steadily at the man. Methought I saw once more the furtive, shifty eyes of the maniac.

"'What proof have you of this story?' I asked.

"'Take some sowars, and ride back with me three days' journey. There will I show you the graves of these last victims, and of some hundreds of others buried on previous occasions in the same gorge.'

"'Where is your companion--your brother thug?'

"'He has a shop at the corner of the Chota Bazaar and Dhurmtola. There he is now selling his merchandise.'

"'But that is the shop of Kubar Bux. He dwells here in Delhi.'

"'Kubar Bux is his name.'

"'He is a well-known and respected merchant.'

"'None the less is he a thug,' answered the informer, with what I took to be a vindictive little smile.

"Then once again did a new thought leap into my mind. This man might have a feud with Kubar Bux, and peradventure he had merely invented the story of thugs and wholesale murder for the latter's undoing. I know well the wily ways of some men--how they will even imperil their own lives to compa.s.s the ruin of an enemy.

"'If I go with you now,' I said, 'to the shop of Kubar Bux, what proof will you give me of his connexion with this story of thuggee?'

"'On his person he carries the sacred pickaxe of Bowani, which makes him our leader when thugs come together. And hidden in one of his bales of silk you will find a case of jewelled rings that actually belonged to another Delhi merchant, who was of the party of travellers that recently perished, on his way home from a visit to Baroda. You will but have to inquire as to this same merchant's disappearance, and get his relatives to identify the casket as the dead man's property.'

"'That, indeed, will be proof,' I a.s.sented. 'Come, let us go to the Chota Bazaar.'

"As we pa.s.sed out of the courthouse, I signalled to two sepoys on guard there to follow us.

"Keeping close to the denouncer, I allowed him to lead me through the narrow crowded streets. Soon we were at the corner where was the shop of Kubar Bux, and there amidst his bales of merchandise the man himself was seated, a venerable and dignified figure. Yet at sight of me and my companion I thought an ashen pallor stole into the nut-brown of his complexion.

"As I stood with the informer in front of the tiny shop, which was too small for all of us to enter, the two soldiers closed up behind us. Then unmistakably did Kubar Bux turn grey from trepidation.

"'Kubar Bux,' I began, without ceremony, for I saw that a crowd would soon be gathering, 'open the bale of silk among your merchandise in which a casket of jewels is hidden, or I shall order your shop to be searched by the sepoys I have brought here with me.'

"The merchant rose to his feet. I noticed now, further back in the shop, another figure seated--that of a man who, on our entry, had drawn his garments around him so as to conceal his face. But to him at the moment I gave no particular attention. My eyes were on Kubar Bux. He moved toward a pile of fabrics, silks and embroidered cloths, as if to comply with my demand. He pressed against the bales, and then all of a sudden sank down upon the floor in a huddled heap. Then I saw the crimson stain of blood upon the merchandise.

"I sprang forward. Driven up to the very hilt, in the breast of Kubar Bux was a dagger. He was not quite dead, and I heard him with his last breath murmur the words: 'Bowani, great G.o.ddess, all hail!' Then with a rattle in his throat he died.

"I had gathered the dying man in my arms, and now beneath the flowing garments, laid flat against the breast, I could feel the shape of something fashioned like a small pickaxe.

"When I saw that Kubar Bux was indeed dead, I drew forth this implement.

It was carefully swathed in white cloths, a pickaxe bright from the hammer of the smith who had forged it, unsullied by earthy stain but curiously marked from the head to the point by seven discs of red paint, showing it to be an object of worship at an altar rather than for actual use in the ground. But at this stage I did not pause further to investigate, and hastily replaced the wrappings.

"'Keep close guard on this man,' I said to the sepoys, pointing to the informer. But he whom I would thus hold safe remained standing impa.s.sively, making no attempt to escape.

"Then with a push of my hands I tumbled down the pile of bales. In the one next to the bottom was a protuberance, and from this I drew forth a casket of silver, delicately chased and inlaid with ivory.

"By this time a throng of pa.s.sers-by had stopped outside the shop, and some had even crowded into the little place. But these I now ordered out. Then I turned to seek the man who had been Kubar Bux's companion at the moment of our coming. He was no longer there. The shop was tenantless--except for myself and the dead man.

"I need tell but little more. The silver box was identified by several people as the property of Govind Chung, a jewel-seller in the Bara Bazaar, who had made a recent journey to the court of the Rajah of Baroda, but had not yet returned home, although for some time expected.