Agahr the Vizier was astounded. Even his sacred person had been seized and his limbs bound fast with strong cords. It had all happened so suddenly that the old man did not recover his wits until he heard the cries of Kasam’s host as it retreated before the hail of missiles descending from the wall.
Then he turned to confront the stern features of Ahmed Khan, and dropped his eyes before the gaze he encountered.
Kasam, also securely bound, stood with a look of sullen rage upon his handsome face, but proudly erect as ever.
“I am betrayed!” he muttered.
“I, also, Prince, was nearly betrayed,” replied the Khan, in a harsh voice. “The fortunes of war, in this benighted country, are often nursed by the hand of treachery. Fortunately for the safety of Mekran, I was warned in time.”
Kasam turned angrily upon the vizier.
“I owe this to you, I suppose!” he said, bitterly.
“My bonds will prove my faith,” returned Agahr, with dignity.
The Khan raised his hand, as if to command peace. The red light of the torch upon his face seemed to soften its sternness.
“That your disloyal plans have come to naught,” he said, in more kindly tones, “is due alone to the will of Allah. Come, Captain Beni-Bouraz; you may follow me with your prisoners to the palace.”