Wild noisy revelry took place in the court-yard, and lasted till long after dawn. Notwithstanding the affected fervour of their religious zeal, some of the Afghans unscrupulously broke the law of their Prophet by copious libations of the strictly forbidden drink. Bang, a spirituous liquor, was freely circulated round, and its effects were shown in louder shouting, coarser jests, and more savage threats. It was as if demons were holding their revels below.
As day advanced the noises gradually ceased; no banquet can last for ever; most of the revellers were stretched in drunken slumber. But Mustapha had effectually provided against the escape of his victims by placing an armed guard of the more sober of his men to watch in turns in front of the ladder. The opening of the door above would be a signal for instant attack, or the fugitives would be shot down, one by one, as they emerged from their prison.
It was a time when the faith of the Christians in that upper room was tried in a very hot furnace. The courage of Fatima, Mir Ghazan's wife, was not equal to the trial. The poor woman beat her breast, and tore her hair, and declared that Allah had forsaken them, and given them up to their foes.
"Allah never forsakes His children," said Sultána. "As soon, O Fatima, could I desert this babe who is dearer to me than my life's-blood. Dost thou not remember what our Feringhee friend told us of the pillar of cloud and fire which guided Beni-Israel? When the fierce enemy pursued with his horses and chariots, an enemy thirsting for blood, did not that pillar stand as a wall of defence between the weak and the strong, the faithful and their pursuers? The God of Israel is with us now, and will either save or strengthen us to endure!"
Not once did the faith or the courage of the young Afghan fail through all that terrible day. When Sultána had owned her Saviour at baptism she had counted the cost, she had known that she was entering on a path which might lead to martyrdom, following in the track of Him who had endured it in its most terrible form. Sultána now cheered and encouraged her companions, and hushed her little infant to rest with hymns of praise.
The hours passed on—how terribly slowly! The heat increased, every throat was parched with thirst. Fatima crouched in one corner, moaning and weeping. Mir Ghazan found some repose in sleep. Ali Khan stood with arms folded, stern and still. He thought of what men in like desperate circumstances have done—how the husband has slain the wife of his bosom, and then rushed forth to die. But such deeds are not for Christians; their consciences are bound, their hands are tied—they must wait till Allah send death to release them. Sultána saw her husband's stern eyes turned towards the opening through which the wretched Denis had passed; she read the thought which flashed through Ali Khan's mind at that moment, before it found expression in words.
"On one side the precipice, on the other the foe; there the short agony—the fall—here lingering death by thirst and starvation. Such is the choice now left us, and yet—we trusted in God!"
"We trust yet and will trust!" cried Sultána, "did not the friend teach us the word, Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him!"
"Mother of Rahim!"* said Ali Khan; "thy faith is stronger than mine. It is well that we have hope in heaven, on earth there is nought but despair."
* The Oriental style of addressing a woman by the name of her child—not her own.