“’Tis a pretty plot,” said Mowbray, grimly. “Hath it any further twists?”
“Yes, one. Raja Man Singh, Khusrow, and the rest are doomed. Few of them shall see the sun again. The man who contrived their fate is far more skilled in intrigue than they. Behind Jahangir and his feud with me stands the black robe.”
“Dom Geronimo! I thought him dead.”
“He may be, but he lived to-day,” was Nur Mahal’s careless answer. “Living or dead, his hour has passed. Others, too, can think and plan. Not plotters now, but swords are needed. I would that Sainton-sahib were here. Why did you let him go?”
“He is hard to restrain when set on anything. But you would not have him and me, with twenty troopers, fight for our own hand ’gainst all India!”
She came nearer to the listening men. In her eagerness she grasped each by an arm and whispered:—
“Jai Singh is within call with two hundred. A few determined men to-night are worth thousands to-morrow. Three hoots of an owl from the wall behind the baraduri will bring him and them. You have the leaders of the revolt gathered in the summer-house, whence they will soon send a messenger to summon you to council. They know I am here and await my pleasure. Above them—” and now her voice dropped so low that the words only just reached their ears—“you have Jahangir himself and his principal minion, Ibrahim, the Chief Eunuch!”
Her eyes blazed with the intensity of her emotion. Great though her power of self-control, she quivered slightly, and the action, trivial in itself, told that this woman was the nerve-center of an empire. She waited no comment. The moment long looked for had come at last. India, with all its potentialities, was within her grasp.
“Doubt not, but act!” she murmured, passionately, seeing the incredulity in the men’s faces. “In the roof of the baraduri there is a secret chamber, contrived there, for their own purposes, by Akbar and my father. From it, in fancied security, Jahangir and Ibrahim can see and hear all that passes beneath. I took care they should know of it. ’Twas too good a bait to pass, and they swallowed it. What joy can equal the Emperor’s when he hears his enemies plotting with you and me to place us on his throne, knowing full well that ere many minutes have passed we shall be slain or, far better, captured, so that he may glut his vengeance on us? Come with me! Let a Rajput give the signal to Jai Singh. Without any fear of failure, almost without a blow, you will have both Jahangir and Khusrow’s adherents in your power to do with as you will.”
They could not choose but believe her. Here was a counter-stroke, worthy indeed of the daughter of one who entered India a pauper and died Prime Minister. Walter’s head swam, and Fra Pietro shook as if with a palsy.