"One of his wives, then?"
"Not so, O strong one: verily it is a person of the Feringhis; a missy sahib."
A missy sahib! This was strange news. Ahmed scarcely knew what to make of it.
"How comes the missy sahib here?" he asked.
"Thy servants tell the truth," said one of the men. "The missy sahib was taken this very morning by the master that now lies on the ground."
"Taken? Where from? What means this? Speak the truth, and quickly, or verily, thou son of a dog, my sword will taste somewhat of thy jellied flesh."
"This is the truth," said the man. "The missy sahib was in the city of the king, but she escaped the killing by the aid of an ayah and a khitmutgar, who took her to the housetop of a man that was friendly to the sahibs. But there were some that suspected he was not faithful to the true king Bahadur Shah——"
"Dog, remember that I serve the sahibs, and name not that master of cut-throats to me."
"Have mercy, O right-hand of the sahibs, we are but poor men. It was as thy servant said: some suspected him of favouring the sahibs, and the housetop was no longer a safe place for the missy sahib. So the ayah clad her as our women are clothed, and put ornaments about her arms and feet, and a veil over her face, and by ill-luck they passed through the gates——"
"By ill-luck, thou dog! 'Twas by the favour of Heaven."