“Now, Agah Khan, thou shalt see that I am as ready a seller as a buyer. Look at this roll of Persian silk. Think of the joy it will cause in thy household. Is it not cheap at two hundred gold mohurs, or shall we say two-fifty, as thou wouldst not care to rob a man who scarce knew the value of his commodities.”
Agah Khan, not at all elated by this twist of the royal humor, hastened to say that two hundred and fifty was the true price, at which figure he would certainly purchase it. He knew Akbar. Had he hesitated the figure would have risen by hundreds a minute.
“Nay, be not so shy, Nur-ud-din,” called out the Emperor after one who affected an interest in another stall. “Here be spices of Gondar that shall make thee eat until the mirror reveals one twice thy size. What shall it be?”
“Fifty, O King of Kings,” was the quick response.
“Fifty! When each grain doth season a meal! A hundred at the least!”
“Be it so, shadow of Allah on earth!” said Nur-uddin; yet he looked so dismal, for he was a reputed skinflint, that Akbar smiled grimly, and there was discreet mirth even among those who dreaded their own dealing with this masterful salesman.
“Gad!” whispered Sainton to Walter, “I begin to catch the drift of the King’s bargain. He hath a nice wit.”
In half an hour Akbar had sold three fourths of their stock and retained the best quarter for nothing. They, all aglow with pleasure at this successful close of their venture, watched the proceedings in patience until the Emperor approached them again.
“It grieves me that affairs in the Dekkàn will detain me to-day,” he said, looking fixedly at Walter. “Visit the Treasury to-morrow, come hither at the hour fixed for this evening, and then journey with all speed and good fortune back to Surat.”
Now, Walter read a hint into the words. He bowed deeply, assuring the Emperor that he would obey his commands to the letter. Then, Akbar having gone, he and Roger went on their way with light hearts.