Wondering what this might mean, the minister closed the door of his house and set his back against it. He saw now that the throng of people were being reinforced every moment by streams from the avenues that converged towards the market-place, which was already one unbroken sea of turbaned heads and fluttering garments. 'Why is this?' he said. 'What has made you come together?'
There stepped out of the crowd one well known in the palace. He was the chief of the merchant-caste—a man of large wealth and larger patriotism, who had given with a free hand towards the defence of the city and the equipment of the force that had just started for Delhi.
'Give them a word of comfort and assurance, Chunder Singh,' he said. 'Some foolish person has spread about the rumour that our young rajah has left the city and joined Dost Ali Khan, who, they say, will win him to his side by giving up into his hands an English captive. I have told them that the rumour is false; but they will not believe me, and it is true that I have spent the night in my own house. You, as they have heard, were in the palace. You will know if anyone left it.'
'This is a strange story,' said Chunder Singh, gravely.
'Is it true?' asked the merchant.
'No; no. It is false. It is impossible.'
Chunder Singh drew back, and, mounting the little platform before his house, looked the crowd proudly in the face. 'I wonder,' he said, 'that the citizens of Gumilcund should allow themselves to be moved by so foolish a rumour. I spent the night in the rajah's palace. Being too weary to move, I rested on a bed outside the door of his room. If anyone had passed out, I should certainly have known it. Go to your homes in peace. I will ask the rajah to ride through his city to-day.'
With loyal shouts, the easily satisfied crowd dispersed, and in a few minutes the market-square resumed its ordinary aspect. Then Chunder Singh, whose face was curiously contracted, turned to the merchant. 'There is a grain of truth in this, Lutfullah,' he said, in a subdued voice. 'Dost Ali Khan has sent a tempting message to our rajah. He would not betray us—I am too sure of him to fear that. But my dread is that he will perversely run into danger, and that we shall lose the succession promised to us.'
'You are certain that he did not leave last night,' said Lutfullah, who looked serious.
'To that I would pledge my life,' answered the minister. 'And he cannot have gone this morning. There were too many people about him.'