“Yes, and hopeful.”
“Now tell me, Zeemit, what do you propose that I should do?”
“Tell Moghul Singh that you have reconsidered your decision, and that you will go with him.”
“Yes, yes, and what then?”
“I will be near Singh’s house. I do not anticipate any difficulty in your being able to escape from there, and we can fly together.”
“I will do it,” was Flora’s answer.
“And I give you this caution: you must do everything you possibly can to lead Moghul to believe that you are sincere, or he might suspect something.”
“It shall be as you suggest, Zeemit, however repulsive the task may be.”
“The only thing repulsive about it is that you will have to practise a little deception. That cannot be avoided if you wish to save your life. But it is time that you went away now, for it is growing dark. Farewell, missy baba. If our plans do not miscarry, we shall meet again soon.”
Flora pressed the hand of the faithful old ayah, and with hope once more strong in her breast, she hurried to the Palace, while Zeemit crept under the couch again to wait until darkness would enable her to retrace her steps.