When he returned with the desired drink, he found his master in his bedroom, surrounded by half a dozen attendants, each ministering to him in some way. Way was made with alacrity for the cup-bearer, however; for Rai-Khizar greeted the appearance of water with a positive roar of eagerness. After three brimming gobletfuls had been quaffed without pause, the Rajah gave a great sigh and sank back on his cushions. “By the fingers of Ushas,” said he, “that is the best liquor ever brought me! Fidá, thou abstainer, where learned thy people their wisdom?—Now I bathe. Let a meal be ready when I return, and summon Lord Ragunáth to eat with me. Sacharman, go rouse him. Thou, Asra, say thy prayers, and then come and wait at my table. Away! Out of my sight!”
There was a general scurrying, in the midst of which Rai-Khizar, restored to tranquillity, walked away to his bath, leaving the room free for other slaves to prepare in it the morning meal. In half an hour, when the King reappeared, all was in readiness, and Fidá stood alone behind his master’s seat. The Rajah seated himself at once; but, not greatly disposed toward food, sat waiting for Ragunáth before beginning his meal. The official did not long delay, though he made his appearance in no way hurriedly. He was carefully dressed, fresh-colored and smiling; and in his hand he carried a tiny, golden box. Fidá perceived it at once, and his heart throbbed with anxiety, but he did not speak. Greetings passed between Rajah and minister, and then Ragunáth took his place opposite Rai-Khizar, and laid Fidá’s box on the low brass table in front of him.
“This was upon the floor in the second antechamber,” he observed.
The Rajah took it up and examined it, Fidá still silently watching. For a moment Rai-Khizar seemed to consider. Then, suddenly turning to his slave, he exclaimed: “’Tis thine, Asra! I remember they found it on thee in my tent in the plain of Dhár, and returned it to thee again, it being a charm of thy god.”
“Yes, it is mine, O King.”
Rai-Khizar-Pál examined it further, with curiosity. “Doth the box open? What is its power?” he asked.
“It contains a charm, great Rajah, the charm of my race.”
“Show us this charm,” demanded the master, handing the box to his slave.
Fidá’s hand closed upon it with visible eagerness; but he was very loath to open it. However, there was no choice. Touching the delicate spring, that was almost undiscoverable, the golden lid flew open, and Fidá turned the box upward on his palm. When he lifted it, there lay in his hand a stone, red and brilliant: a ruby, as magnificent a gem as the Rajah had ever looked on. It was cut and polished, and from its prismatic sides shone an inward fire of palest crimson. This stone Fidá placed in the Rajah’s hand, who received it with an exclamation of wonder.
“Whoorroo! There is not, in all Mandu, a gem so wonderful! Thy family, Asra, must be powerful indeed! Come, as the price of keeping thy treasure, relate to us its merits as a charm, and how it came to be thine.”