t devolved
upon him to preside at the wedding of one of his near relations.
Amongst those who came to the ceremony was the murderer of his
father, Murtiza Ali, laden with presents for the bridegroom. Strange
as it may seem, the murderer was courteously received. But shortly
after his entrance within the fort an unseemly disturbance was
created by the disorderly entrance into the presence of thirteen
Patan soldiers, who insolently demanded payment of the arrears they
alleged to be due to them. With some difficulty they were forcibly
ejected. But in the evening, as Anwar-ud-din approached, attended by
his courtiers and preceded by his guards, these thirteen Patans
managed to mingle with the latter, and one of them, rushing towards
the dais on which was the chair occupied by the young prince,
ascended the steps leading to it, and, in a supplicatory attitude,
made as though he would throw himself at his feet and demand pardon
for the offence of the morning. But instead of this he plunged his
dagger, which he had concealed on his person, into the prince's
heart. He was almost instantly cut down by the attendants. The
confusion was extreme. Suddenly it was {30}discovered that Murtiza
Ali had quitted the fort, had mounted his horse, and, accompanied by
his armed followers, had galloped towards Vellore. Suspicion
naturally fell upon this proved murderer, and the nobles generally
endeavoured to exculpate themselves at his expense.

But suspicion fell likewise upon Anwar-ud-din. Who, so much as he,
would benefit by the death of Saiyud Muhammad? He was practically
only guardian to the young prince, bound to resign his office as soon
as the latter should attain his majority. Nor were these suspicions
lessened when it was found that Nizam-ul-Mulk at once transmitted to
Anwar-ud-din a complete commission as Nawab of Arcot. Vainly did the
Nawab deny all complicity in the bloody deed. Murtiza Ali was silent.
'It was supposed,' wrote Mr. Orme, 'that the only proofs he could
have brought against Anwar-ud-din would at the same time have
condemned himself.' And this probably was true.

Such then was the political position in Southern India when Clive
landed at Madras in 1744. The titular Emperor of Delhi was Muhammad
Shah, still reeling under the consequences of the invasion of Nadir
Shah and the sack of Delhi but five short years previously. The
Subahdar of the Deccan was still Nizam-ul-Mulk, possessing sufficient
influence to have sec