“I know not,” said Mahomed Chan, “that my child may be willing to accept the man who has offered her so serious an insult; but if you will accompany me to my home you can urge your suit.”
“Upon condition that he becomes the husband of her whom he has so grossly offended I grant him his liberty,” said the Emperor; “otherwise his captivity will be for life.”
The father returned to his home with the minister’s son, whom he presented to Yhahil. She received him with withering coldness. He flung himself at her feet.
“I acknowledge my fault,” he cried, passionately. “I have wronged you—grievously wronged the object of my soul’s adoration, and come to repair the wrong I have done by making her the partner of my life. I feel she would ennoble a diadem. Will you become mine?”
“Can you think I have reason to trust you?”
“Yes—you know that passion impelled me to act as I did; love was at the bottom of it, and if you have a woman’s heart you will forgive me.”
Yhahil smiled; the young Omrah rose and clasped her to his bosom.—“You are mine for ever; this day shall consummate our union. I shall receive my freedom from the sovereign only to cast over my heart the golden fetters of bliss.”
Yhahil yielded to his embrace; there was joy in the late house of mourning. On that very day the lovers were married. The Mogul Emperor honoured their union with his presence, and ratified it with his blessing. The jiggerkhar’s prophecy was accomplished, and never was there a happier union than that formed between the Pariah’s daughter and the Minister’s son.
FOOTNOTES:
[29] About seven millions sterling.