Pâdré Rudolfo Acquaviva looked affectionately at the man whom he refused, almost to the point of insubordination, to count accursed.
"The King is not kind enough to himself," he said, his gentle face a benediction, as he noted the strain, the anxiety, which in all moments of rest sate on Akbar's countenance. "Wherefore should not weariness lay down its burden at the gracious command, 'Come unto me and I will give you rest'?"
For a second there was a pause. Then Akbar rose, and squared his broad shoulders. "I could not if I would, friend," he replied proudly. "A King's burden must be carried." So with a loud voice he cried:
"Has any or aught further need of the King's wisdom?"
There was no pause this time.
The Makhdûm-ul'-mulk, in his robes of chief doctor of the law, stepped forward hastily and began to read.
"Lo! Makhdûm-sahib," interrupted Akbar lightly vet impatiently, "Majesty hath listened to this before. The petition is dismissed. It hath seemed good to the Crown so to cement union with our Râjpût Allies, the marriage ceremonies are commenced, therefore this demand that the Heir-Apparent shall have his first wife one of his own faith is idle--and ill-timed."
"It hath the signature of fifteen thousand learned Ulemas of Islâm," continued the Makhdûm militantly.
"If it had fifty thousand----" interrupted Akbar again; this time sternly.
Ghiâss Beg, the Lord High-Treasurer flung himself, suddenly at the King's feet, and his example was followed by half a dozen of Akbar's most tried and trusted Mohammedan counsellors.