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That they were expected was demonstrated by the sudden stilling of tongues and craning of necks as they approached. All men made way for them, as men will, though the path be to the steps of a throne, when they think a fellow creature is doomed to instant death or torture. It was common knowledge that these two had not only thwarted Jahangir's amours and laid violent hands on him in the process, but that he was their creditor, in his father's behalf, for a considerable sum of money. What better reasons could there be for hanging the pair of them forthwith?
Yet, some prudent souls, noting the fearless glances cast around by Sainton and his less colossal but powerfully built companion--thinking, perhaps, that the Emperor might call on his faithful subjects to seize these two--edged away from the vicinity. It would be much easier to yell than to act when Jahangir cried "Maro!"[D]
[Footnote D: "Kill them!"]
"Desperate need calls for desperate deed," growled Roger as they strode forward, side by side. "If it comes to a fight, Walter, let me sweep a clear s.p.a.ce with a stroke or two. Then I shall catch thee by the belt and heave thee up at Jahangir. It will take him by surprise. Bring him out, as a keen dog would draw a badger. Once we have him on the floor, perchance we can make terms."
Walter laughed gaily. The suggestion that they should terrorize the whole Mogul court by sheer force was ludicrous, and its humor was not lessened by the knowledge that they were both in a position of imminent danger. The presence of the Jesuit in close attendance on the Emperor was, in itself, an ominous sign, and the mere sight of him brought a glint into Mowbray's blue eyes which boded ill for Jahangir if Roger's last daring expedient became necessary.
They advanced near to the marble canopy, and, doffing their hats, bowed respectfully. Roger, with an eye over his shoulder, thought that the eager mob of courtiers was inclined to tread too closely on his heels.
With his left hand he pressed the hilt of his long sword, and the scabbard, sticking straight out behind him, seemed to indicate that he did not intend to be incommoded.
Anyhow, those in the rear read his wishes that way, and anxiously whispered to others not to thrust them forward, while the wiser men, who had kept aloof, noting the strange expression on Jahangir's face, thanked Allah for the wit which stationed them in a safe place.
Walter, who, of course, acted in the a.s.sumption that Jahangir had sent for him in the most friendly spirit, began the conversation by addressing a neatly worded compliment to the monarch on his accession.
"It is the happy law of nature," he said, "that the setting of the sun shall be followed by the rising thereof. May your Majesty's reign continue for as many years as that of your ill.u.s.trious father, and may the brightness of your glory illumine the earth!"
Having some trick of versification, he gave the words a turn towards a Persian couplet. There was a rustle of gratified surprise among the audience, few of whom were aware of Walter's proficiency in the courtly language of Hindustan.
Jahangir, smiling acidly, bent forward:--
"I sent for a merchant," he said, "but you have brought me a poet."
"A happy chance enables me to combine the two, your Majesty."
The Emperor, without any hesitation, answered:--
"You are modest, withal. The last time we met I discovered in you other qualities, whilst your words savored more of the battlefield than of the court."
"I have not seen your Majesty before," said Walter boldly, for he could in no wise guess what line Jahangir intended to take with him, and he was not prepared for this open allusion to the struggle at the gate of the Diwan's garden.
The King's face exhibited some amazement, as well it might. He significantly touched his right forearm, which was closely wrapped in black silk.
"My eyes and ears may have deceived me," he cried, "but I have that here which bears witness against thee."
"Your Majesty is good enough to allude to a slight dispute which involved Prince Jahangir and another. It did not concern me, and I was foolish to take part in it, but I maintain that had I encountered the Emperor on that occasion I would have behaved very differently."
Dom Geronimo, who lost no word of the interview, seemed to be displeased by Mowbray's adroit distinction between the occupant of the throne and a prince of the royal blood. He leaned over and whispered something, but Jahangir paid little heed to him.
"Then, you think a monarch should have no memory?" he asked, looking fixedly at Walter.
"Not so. He should remember his friends and forget his enemies."
"And how shall I cla.s.s thee and thy comrade?"
"We trust that your Majesty will continue to show us the favor manifested by your royal father."
Jahangir laughed.
"It is strange," he said slowly, "but you have read my intention. I am told that the renowned Akbar had it in mind to give you an exhibition of certain sports which he loved. Faithful to his wishes in every respect as I am, I have brought you hither to-day for that same purpose. I have ordered a steward to wait on you. After the midday meal he will conduct you to the _tamasha-gah_,[E] where I will meet you. Farewell. G.o.d is great!"
[Footnote E: Arena, or sport-ground.]
"May His brightness shine forth!" chanted the Mahomedans present, and, ere Mowbray and Sainton well understood the King's desire, Jahangir had vanished and they were confronted by a bowing chamberlain, who besought them to accompany him to a guest-room.
Here, an excellent meal was served. On the table were several flagons of various wines. Though they knew not what was in store for them, and the Emperor's manner was as inscrutable as his words, they fully believed that he did not mean them to be poisoned on that occasion, so they ate heartily, notwithstanding Roger's earlier precaution in the matter of breakfast. But the wine, though its novelty was tempting, they spared.
They knew its effects in that climate, and until they were far removed from Agra it behooved them to keep eye undimmed and blood free from fever.
The less they drank the more the steward pressed the wine upon them, until Roger, whom the sight of the flagons tried sorely, bade the man, if he were minded to be truly hospitable, send the liquor to their abode, where they would endeavor to do it justice.
"If your Honor will say that you have already partaken of it I shall obey your behest," said the other with alacrity.
"That will be only the bare truth," was the astonished reply, for they had each tasted a small quant.i.ty and found it excellent, there being Canary, Alicant, Malaga, and the famed product of Oporto on the board.
"'Ware hawk, Roger," interposed Walter. "Unless I mistake me greatly we are being screwed up to undergo some ordeal. Jahangir said naught of paying us. I dislike his civility."
"Gad! if this honest fellow keeps his word and conveys the bottles to the old Diwan's house, I shall change my mind anent the chuck ere midnight. What flea hath bitten thee now, Walter? The King hath dealt with us right royally, and you and he seemed to oil each other with smooth words."
"I cannot forego my suspicions. They are useless, I admit. We have thrust our heads into the jaws of the lion, and can scarce complain if he snaps them off."
"Let us rather resolve to give him the toothache if he tries any tricks," growled Sainton. "Make for him, lad, if there be aught amiss.
Trust to me to clear a path. For each one in the crowd who draws for the King there will be another ready to draw against him should they see a chance of success."
They spoke in English. Their native attendant, seeing that they had finished their meal, begged to be allowed to depart for a little while.
When all was ready he would come and bring them to the _tamasha-gah_.
They were seated in a beautiful apartment, with frescoed walls, mosaic floor, and arched Moorish roof composed of colored tiles. On one side it opened into a garden. The palace, unlike most kingly residences, was not one vast building, but was made up of a series of exquisitely proportioned halls or small private abodes, sometimes connected by covered ways, but often standing quite apart, and always surrounded by a wealth of flowers and foliage peculiarly grateful to eyes wearied by the glare of the sun reflected from white marble.
Industriously watering the plants was a st.u.r.dy _bhisti_, or water-carrier. His goatskin bag seemed to be inexhaustible. He had been traversing the garden paths throughout the whole time they were eating.
No sooner were they alone in the room than he ran close to the plinth and began to deluge the rose-bushes in good earnest.
"Protector of the poor!" he murmured to Walter, "stay not here. Go away quickly, in G.o.d's name!"
Considerably startled by the man's words, which chimed so strangely with his own forebodings, Mowbray bent towards him.
"Who bade thee give me this message?" he asked, knowing full well that such a menial would never dare to speak on his own authority.
"One who wishes thee well, sahib--my wife, to wit," answered the _bhisti_.
"Thy wife!"
"Yes, honored one. You plucked our child from death in the river, and my wife heard from others that there is intent to make sport with thee and the Hathi-sahib ere both are put to death."
Swish, swish went the water among the rose-leaves. Never was there a more energetic _bhisti_, for a gardener had appeared, and further talk was impossible.
"As well die here as a mile away," was Roger's quiet comment. "We have breakfasted, we have dined, and a fight is toward. What more can a man want? Out with your hanger, Walter, when Jahangir so much as opes his mouth to speak crossly. We shall give him a feast of steel, with first, second, and third course all alike. There shall be much carving, yet none will tarry to eat. Gad! this talking makes me thirsty, and, if I am fated to fall to-day, their blades may as well let out some good liquor.
Fall to, lad! We may not have another chance."