Nur Mahal uttered a cry of pleasure. She ran to meet the man with arms outstretched.
“They are quite tame,” said the gratified Prince. “After a little while they will come at your call and perch on your wrist.”
She took the birds and caressed them softly. Suddenly, yielding to impulse, she unfastened a chain, and the pigeon, finding itself at liberty, darted up into the air and flew around in rapid circles, crying loudly to its mate the while.
“How did that happen?” demanded Jahangir.
“Thus,” she answered, freeing the second bird.
“But they are unused to the garden as yet. You have lost them.”
“Sooner that than take away their freedom. My heart weeps for all who are destined to captivity.”
“Then you weep for me, as I am truly your captive.”
“Ah, my bondage would be pleasant, and, like the birds, you could fly away when you chose.”
At that instant one of the pigeons dropped with angelic flutterings, and poised itself on the perch which the girl still held.