"But if a man mistakes his fate as thou dost, Abool," she persisted. "Sure, if Jewun Bukht with that evil woman, Zeenut----"
He started to his feet, thrusting out lissome hands wildly, as if to set aside some thought. "Have a care, Newâsi, have a care!" he cried. "Talk not of that arch plotter, arch dreamer. Nay! not arch dreamer! 'tis thou that dreamest most. Dreamest war without blood, men without passion, me without myself! Was there not blood on my hands ere ever I was born--I, Abool-Bukr, of the race of Timoor--kings, tyrants, by birth and trade? The blood of those who stood in my father's way and my father's fathers. I tell thee there is too much tinder yonder----" He pointed to where, across the flat chequers of moonlit roofs, inlaid by the shadows of the intersecting alleys the cupolas of the Palace gates rose upon the sky. "There is too much tinder here," he struck his own breast fiercely, "for such fiery thoughts. Why canst not leave me alone, woman?"
She drew back coldly. "Do I ask thee to come thither? Thy wife----"
He gave a half-maudlin laugh. "Nay, I mean not that! Sure thou art very woman, Newâsi! That is why I love mine aunt! That is why I come to see her--that----"
She interrupted him hastily; but her eyes grew soft, her voice trembled.
"And I do but goad thee for thine own good, Abool. These are strange times. Even the Mufti sahib----"
"Ah! defend me from his wise saws. I know the ring of them too well as 'tis. Even that I endure--for mine aunt's sake. Though, by the faith, if he and others of his kidney waylay me as they do much longer, I will have a rope ladder to thy roof and scandalize them all. I can stomach thy wisdom, dear; none else. So tell them that Abool-Bukr can quote saws as well as they. Tell them he lives for Pleasure, and Pleasure lives in the present. For the rest, Delhi dur ust! Delhi dur ust!"
His reckless, unrestrained voice rang out over the roofs, and into the alley below where Jim Douglas was telling himself, that with his finger on the very pulse of the city he had failed to count its heart beats.
He looked up quickly. "Delhi dur ust!" All the world seemed to be saying it that night; though the first blood had been shed in the quarrel.