“Churi and the woman, then,—am I blinded? I do not see them here,” and he peered about the field like a man looking for a lost gem.
Fidá’s hands itched for his throat; but now, suddenly, Ahalya assumed the height of her position, and, actually stamping her foot with outraged dignity, cried: “Does Lord Ragunáth presume—dare—to doubt my word? I say that Neila and Churi brought me hither; and, coming here, we found this trusted slave of my lord, whom I commanded to pluck the poppies for me. But my Lord Ragunáth—came he hither also to get flowers to make a rouge for his face?” The last words she all but spat at him.
Ragunáth was silenced, but very far from being suppressed. Indeed, the slight lifting of his eyebrows and the shrugging of his shoulders spoke as words could not speak; and Fidá was perilously near an outbreak. At this juncture, however, by intervention of a dilatory providence, Neila, and with her Churi, made their appearance from the temple. At sight of three figures in the field where they had thought to find one, or, at worst, but two, they came hurriedly forward to their lady, who stood awaiting them in silence. Ragunáth’s eyes were now fixed upon the face of Churi, who endured the look very well; for in his own way he was much interested in the situation. No words passed till Ahalya, indicating her slaves with a gesture, said icily: “Attend me.” And then, without looking again at the minister, but with the barest, fleeting glance at Fidá, she moved away toward the road, and was presently lost to sight among the trees near the ruin.
The Arab and the Hindoo were left alone, face to face. Fidá’s eyes were fixed unwinkingly on Ragunáth’s. On the counsellor’s lips a half-smile hovered, and his expression had in it more of mockery than anger. When Ahalya was quite out of sight, he spoke, slowly:
“So—slave. Art thou prepared to greet thy god in death?”
Now Fidá’s lip curled. “May Allah receive me at the appointed time,” said he.
“That time is near.”
“Nay, Lord Ragunáth.”
“‘Nay’? ‘Nay’? Knowest thou not that Rai-Khizar-Pál, hearing of this adventure of thine, will not leave thee an hour alive?”
“Even that I do not know, Ragunáth. But, were it true, still, who shall tell the Rajah of the incident of the day?”