CHAPTER XXIV.
A MEETING.
Day after day had gone past in utter monotony till Denzil's heart began to ache in the great weariness of the life he led; it was so calm and seemed so still after the fierce and keen excitement he had undergone. Had he entered upon a new state of existence? he asked of himself; if so, it was an intensely stupid one.
One evening when seated as usual on the divan at his window, looking dreamily out upon the long vista of the green valley, and the conical hill that terminated it, dim and blue in distance, he was feeling the balmy breath of the spring breeze with pleasure, and with all an invalid's relish was watching the young buds expanding, and the first flowers of the season beginning to peep from the teeming soil, when the Nazir, or steward of the household, a tall man of venerable aspect, whose beard flowed to his girdle, and the middle of whose head was shaved, came with an invitation from the Khan, to join him and his family at their evening meal.
Denzil bowed his acceptance, and in his sorely worn uniform, made what toilette he hastily could, for a Khan like the head of the Kuzzilbashes, who could bring into the field five thousand well-armed men, chiefly splendidly mounted cavalry, was assuredly a man of considerable note and power in the land, and his favour or protection were of some value in that far-away corner of the world.
In an apartment, the walls of which were prettily decorated by painted and gilded arabesques, with passages from the Koran around it, in lieu of a cornice, he found the Khan sitting on a musnud, or species of cushioned seat, that is usually reserved for persons of distinction. A lady was seated by his side, and both were so intent upon a game of chess, that neither looked up when Denzil entered.
Seated on the floor, but on rich carpets, were the wife of the Khan, a woman of some forty years old, very sallow and passée, her long camise of green. Cabul silk, ornamented with golden crescents sewn on; her hair, as yet untinged with grey, arranged in countless plaits, her hands odiously reddened to the hue of coral, and her two daughters, passably pretty women, with their hair loose and their trousers white, in token of being unmarried, and all three wearing many chains of gold and strings of Venetian sequins.
Denzil bowed low, and paused irresolutely, waiting to be greeted by the Khan; but that personage was bending over the board deeply intent on the game, his long white beard floating above the ivory chessmen, his bushy brows and wrinkled forehead full of thought, his brown and thick-veined hands contrasting strongly with the slender snow-white fingers of his opponent, whose hand was indeed a delicate and lovely one; her face, however, was concealed by her position, and the mode in which she wore her veil; and Denzil knew the peril of seeming too curious.
Like those of the other three ladies, her dress was of the finest Cabul silk, but of a rose colour, and covered her whole figure, as a night-robe would have done; like the Khan's daughters, her trousers were also white, her slippers high-heeled and shod with iron. Crescents of silver were sewn over all her loose hanging sleeves, and the breast of her dress was literally a mass of them, so that it shone in the sunlight like a cuirass.
The wife of the Khan clapped her hands, the ordinary mode of summoning attendants in the East, as she wished the trays with refreshments introduced. This caused Shireen and his companion to look round, and an exclamation of profound astonishment, in which joy and something of deep anxiety mingled, echoed through the apartment, when Denzil and Rose—Rose Trecarrel—recognised each other!
On this, one of the Khan's daughters hastily assumed, but for a few minutes only, her bourkha or veil of white muslin, which had a space of open network for the eyes; and the other whispered to her mother some indignant remark concerning "the effrontery of a Kaffir coming into their presence with his jorabs (i.e., shoes) on."