“Why?”
“Because this place is appropriated to the ceremonies and business of state. You must send a petition.”
“Nay, soldier, I must see your king: withhold me at your peril!”
“Advance but a single step further, and I shall cut you down.”
“My blood, then, be upon your head.”
The Pariah stepped forward; the soldier did his best to put his threat into execution, but his intended victim had sprung beyond the reach of the stroke.
“Justice!” he cried, in a loud shrill voice, that rang through the hall; “justice from the Emperor of the Moguls.”
“Who is it that demands justice?” asked Humayoon, with mild dignity; “let him approach.”
The stranger immediately advanced, and prostrated himself before the King.
“Rise!” said the Emperor, “and state your cause of grievance, if you have any.”