The Râjput lad passed his hand over his forehead. "Mine was, Most Noble! I should know her again if I ever saw her, but I never shall."
"Say not that, boy," said the sentry, who, despite his roughness, had a kind heart and was touched by the sorrow in Roy's voice. "I have an old comrade down Suryâmer way and I will speak to him of thee and see what he says; then who knows but——"
Little Akbar interrupted him gravely. "It is as God chooses. Roy always says that. Don't you, Roy?"
"By my word!" said the sentry, saluting, "you are a proper pair of Kings."
There were to be three days festival. On the first, that of Pleasure, everybody was to be dressed in white, on the second day of Power all were to be in scarlet, and on the third, the day of Fortune, the day on which little Prince Akbar was to choose his mother, every one was to wear green. Head-nurse and Foster-mother spent all their time in devising wonderful new designs for their darling's dresses, and Humâyon himself added many little fanciful touches, for he had a most wonderful imagination, and this festival, which was to welcome his wife to Kâbul and give her back her little son, occupied all his thoughts.
The queen arrived on the first day, but, according to custom, in a closed litter, and she went straight to the secluded balcony arranged for the royal ladies, whence she could see without being seen. So she had the advantage of her little son, who, in a magnificent costume of white and silver, looked such a darling that Queen Humeeda longed to hug him.
"Has my Amma-jân come?" whispered the little Prince to his father, "is she up there behind the lattice of roses?"
"Yea! she is there sure enough, little rogue," laughed Humâyon. "So give a good look right through the flowers."
"No!" said little Akbar, "I've got to shut my eyes; then I can see her with my other eyes."
But his father was too busy directing the festival to hear what he said.