The Great Mogul Part 12

They were asked to wait in the _baramada_, or porch, until a messenger took particulars of their errand to the Diwan. But fortune smiled on them that day and carried them far. The man had scarce set out towards the house when the clatter of a horse, hard ridden, announced the approach of some cavalier in hot haste.

The animal was reined in with remarkable celerity without, and the rider entered the garden hurriedly. He checked his speed, however, when he saw strangers, and not even the well-bred hauteur affected by the Persian n.o.bles of Akbar's court enabled him wholly to conceal the surprise with which he beheld Sainton.

Walter stepped forward and bowed.

"We are English merchants," he said, "and we seek an audience of the ill.u.s.trious Itimad-ud-Daula. These servitors are dull-witted and may not explain our errand. Perchance, if you have affairs with his Excellency, you will be good enough to convey to him our request."

The newcomer, a handsome, n.o.ble-looking man of thirty-five or thereabouts, laughed with a certain frankness that bespoke an open character.

"Traders!" cried he. "Had you said soldiers I might have better understood you. In what commodity do you deal? Is it aught to eat or drink? If so, on my soul, your friend gives good warrant of its virtues."

"Unhappily our land is too far distant to permit us to produce other than a sample of what our meat and wine can achieve. But we have ample stock of rare silks and rich spices of Araby and Gondar. If the ladies of this charming city are as fair to behold and as richly adorned as all else we have seen then our journey from Surat to the court of Akbar shall not have been made in vain."

Mowbray's easy diction and the distinction of his manner astounded the hearer quite as much as did Roger's proportions. The Persian, a born gentleman, well knew he was talking to his equal of another clime.

"You and your wares could not have arrived at better season," he said gravely; "but I never yet met merchant so unlike a merchant as you and your gigantic companion."

Walter's quick intuition told him that here was one who might be a good friend. It was important to stand well with him and leave room for no dubiety. So, in a few well-chosen sentences, he told how it came about that he and Roger brought a pack-train to Agra. The mere mention of Edwards's name cleared up the mystery so far as his hearer was concerned.

"Edwards!" he cried, "a fat man, who struts as he walks and coughs loudly to command respect?"

Mowbray admitted that the description fitted his partner sufficiently well.

"You know he has been here himself in years past?" went on the Persian.

"Yes. The knowledge he gained then led to the proper selection of our merchandise."

"Did he not tell you what befell him?"

"Little of any consequence."

"He carried himself so ill that he bred a low repute of your nation. He suffered blows from porters, and was thrust out of many places head and shoulders by base peons without seeking satisfaction. Yet he showed some judgment in choosing you two as his agents. Name him to none. Strive to forget him until you rate him for sending you hither without warning."

No more unpleasing revelation could have been made. Walter was fully aware of the difficulties which faced Europeans in India at that date.

The vain and proud Orientals lost no opportunity of humiliating strangers. A cool and resolute bearing was the only sure fence against the insults and petty annoyances offered by minor officials. It was, therefore, vexing to the uttermost degree that Edwards had endured contumely and not even prepared them for a hostile reception. For the moment, Mowbray felt so disturbed that he was minded to retire to the caravansary to consider his next step, when Sainton, who understood the latter part of the conversation well enough, strode forward.

"Where be the peons you spoke of, friend?" said he. "'Tis fine weather, and the exercise you spoke of, if practised on me, will give them a zest for the midday meal."

This time the stranger laughed as heartily as etiquette permitted.

"No, no," he cried, "such minions demand their proper subject. Now, do you two come with me and I shall put your business in a fair way towards speedy completion."

Talking the while, and telling them his name was Sher Afghan, he led them through the garden towards the house. The deep obeisances of the doorkeepers showed that he was held of great consequence, and none questioned his right to introduce the two Englishmen to the sacred interior. They pa.s.sed through several apartments of exceeding beauty and entered another garden, in which, to the bewilderment of the visitors, who knew what the close seclusion of the zenana implied, they saw several ladies, veiled indeed, but so thinly that anyone close at hand might discern their features.

Courteously asking them to wait near the exit from the house, their Persian acquaintance quitted them and sought a distant group.

He salaamed deeply before a richly attired female and pointed towards Mowbray and Sainton. Then he explained something to a dignified looking old man, robed in flowing garments of white muslin, whose sharp eyes had noted the advent of the strangers the moment they appeared.

With this older couple was a slim girl. When the others moved slowly across the gra.s.s towards the place where Mowbray and Sainton stood, Sher Afghan hung back somewhat and spoke to the girl, who kept studiously away from him, and coyly adjusted her veil so that he might not look into her eyes. He seemed to plead with her, but his words fell on heedless ears.

Indeed, ere yet the aged Diwan had conducted Queen Mariam Zamani, sultana of Akbar and mother of Jahangir, heir to the throne, sufficiently apart from her attendants to permit the strangers to be brought before her--the rank of the august lady enabling her to dispense with the Mahomedan seclusion of her s.e.x--Sher Afghan's gazelle-like companion ran forward and gazed fearlessly at Mowbray, wonderingly at Sainton.

"Their skins are not white but red!" she cried joyously. "Nevertheless one of them must come from the land of Tokay, which is famed for its white elephants."

Hastily conquering his air of dejection the younger n.o.bleman signed to the Englishmen to approach. They obeyed, without haste or awkwardness.

Grasping their sword hilts in their left hands and doffing their hats with the elaborate courtesy of the age, they stood bareheaded before the elder pair, and certainly the kingdom of James I. had no cause to be ashamed of its latest representatives in the Mogul capital.

Roger Sainton had not his equal in height, in thickness of bone or strength of sinew, in all the wide empire governed by the most powerful of Indian monarchs, while Walter Mowbray's splendid physique was in no wise dwarfed by the nearness of his gigantic comrade. They were good to look upon, and so the girl found them notwithstanding her jest.

She herself was beautiful to a degree not often seen even in a land of cla.s.sic features and exquisitely molded figures. Her deep, violet eyes were guarded by long lashes which swept rounded cheeks of ivory tint, brightened by little spots of color which reminded the beholder of the gold and red on the sunny side of a ripe pomegranate. Her lips were parted, and her teeth, dazzlingly white, were so regular and large that they appeared to const.i.tute the chief attraction of a singularly mobile and expressive mouth. Again she laughed, with a musical cadence that was quaint and fascinating:--

"May it please your Majesty," she said, addressing the Sultana, "these are not merchants but courtiers."

"May it please your Majesty," said Walter, instantly, "we would fain be both."

His apt retort in high-flown Persian was unexpected. His eyes encountered those of the girl, and they exchanged a glance of quick intelligence. She was pleased with him, and he offered her the silent homage which every young man of proper spirit pays to a beautiful and sprightly woman.

Her brilliant orbs said: "I will befriend you."

In the same language he answered: "You are peerless among your s.e.x."

And such was the manner of the meeting between Walter Mowbray, son of him who fell on board the _San Jose_, and Nur Mahal, the baby girl who was saved from death in the Khaibar Pa.s.s twenty years earlier.

It was a meeting not devoid of present interest, and of great future import, yet it is probable that if Nellie Roe had witnessed it she might have been greatly displeased.

CHAPTER VII

"She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd; She's a woman, therefore to be won."

_Shakespeare_, "King Henry VI," Part I.

Nur Mahal was a Persian, not a native of India. In her wondrous face the Occident blended with the Orient. Its contour, its creamy smoothness, the high forehead and delicately firm chin were of the West, and the East gave her those neatly coiled tresses of raven hue, those deeply pencilled eyebrows, beneath whose curved arches flashed, like twin stars, her marvelous eyes.

Her supple body was robed in a _sari_ of soft, deep yellow silk, bordered with a device of fine needlework studded with gems. It draped her closely, in flowing lines, from waist to feet, and a fold was carried over her right shoulder to be held gracefully scarfwise in one hand. An exquisite plum colored silk vest, encrusted with gold embroidery, covered her finely molded bust, revealing yet modestly shielding each line and flexure of a form which might have served Pygmalion as the model of Galatea.

On her forehead sparkled a splendid jewel, an emerald surrounded by diamonds set _en etoile_. Around her swanlike throat was clasped a necklace of uncut emeralds, strung, at intervals, between rows of seed pearls. She wore no other ornament. Her tiny feet were encased in white silk slippers, and, an unusual sight in the East, their open bands revealed woven stockings of the same material.

But the daughter of the Persian refugee who had risen to such high place in Akbar's court was bound neither by convention nor fashion. She fearlessly unveiled when she thought fit, and she taught the ladies of Agra to wear not only the bodice and the inner skirt but also a species of corset, whilst to her genius was due the wonderful perfume known as attar of roses.

Again, although more than twenty years of age at that time, she was unmarried, an amazing thing in itself when the social customs of Hindustan were taken into account.

Suddenly brought face to face with such a divinity, it was no small credit to Walter Mowbray that he kept his wits sufficiently to turn her laughing comment to advantage.

The Sultana was graciously pleased to smile.