Round what?...
"Look!" he cried suddenly, "the scimitar of the Warrior is sheathed in the hills--my hills!"--
And it was so. Orion shone to the north, setting slowly behind the mighty rampart of shadowed mountains in which the starry sword was already hidden.
They sat silent for a little while, hand in hand, like the children that they were. And then suddenly a noise below them, made Babar swing his legs to the ground and stand firm before his sister.
"Who goes?" he asked and his voice rang through the darkness; but no answer came.
"'Twas a falling stone, methinks," said his sister carelessly; yet even as she spoke she also sprang to her feet, every atom of her, soul and body alert for something, she scarce knew what.
She knew, however, in a second, for a darker shadow showed vaguely at the end of the balcony, vaulted lightly over the parapet, and a pleasant voice said gaily--
"Mirza Baisanghâr of the House of Timur, cousin to the King of Ferghâna, at your service."
"Baisanghâr!" echoed Babar. "How camest thou?--" then, even in his confusion remembering, as he generally did, les convenances for others he added: "Thou hadst best retire, my sister, after making thy appropriate salutation."
So, for one second the girl's eyes straining through the starlight could see her cousin. A charming figure truly! Not dressed, like her brother, in country clothes, but in the silks and satins of the town. A dainty figure too, of middle height and slender make, yet manly withal. The round face, unlike the faces of his cousins, showing Turkhoman descent unmistakably, yet with such indescribable attractiveness.