Birbal looked hurriedly round him. There was evident eagerness on the very faces where he expected to find it; aye! and there was anticipation in many more. Then he glanced at the board, seeing in an instant that this move altered the whole defence: but even as he recognised this, and recognised that an answering change would make it strong as ever, the Châran's cry rang out.
"Badshah's rukh takes wazir" (Queen).
Akbar had let the move slip--had evidently been in a dream, was still in one! Yet it would need skill now to extricate himself for by God! he, himself, had not seen that before! It would be checkmate in two moves if the rukh were moved. The only defence--what was the defence?
"Wazir's rukh takes peon."
Inexorably the Court-herald's voice echoed through the arches and out into the garden. It was followed by a little tense murmur from the crowd.
Ye Gods! what was the defence? Ghorah to---- No! that was fatal. The king of course! The king one step backward and the game was won!
Would Akbar see it?
His attention had anyhow been aroused. He had leant forward, his elbow on his knee, his brows bent. The question was--how much of his mind had been withdrawn from dreams.
"He is not here!" murmured Abulfazl hurriedly, "but surely they cannot----"
"They can and dare all," interrupted Birbal "Oh! devils in hell."