"Do not kill her, Nawab Sahib!" said Máma Luteefa, rising to support Zóra, as did also Shireen. "Do not terrify her to death. If anyone had said such words to me, and looked so fierce, and twirled his moustachios as you did, I should have died outright. It is well if this child be not dead already. Look up, my sweet, and drink. Good! now thou wilt be better." But Zóra was not better; as the water had touched her lips she fainted again.
"Instead of all your violence," said Luteefa, drawing herself up, "you should have approached her with blandishments, filled her mouth with sugar-candy, and put a string of pearls round her neck, and greeted her with a blessing. Instead of which, Alla defend us! you have terrified her out of her wits; and she is but a tender child;" and she took up the girl's head and laid it on her lap, smoothing away the dishevelled hair and wiping the dry lips with a moistened handkerchief. "Look how lovely she is, my lord, and bless Alla and me that she is thy destiny."
"Máma Sahiba," returned the Nawab, with a sneer, "thou knowest the old saying, 'Pigeons mate with pigeons, and hawks with hawks.' I am no pigeon, nor is she; we are hawks, and will live in our own fashion. She hath ever been free and wild, with no control; now she will find she hath a master, like the young colt who rears and plunges when he feels the bit and the spur, but soon discovers that it's best to go quietly. Take her up, and put her on a bed; bathe her and soothe her; put on any clothes ye will. To-morrow the Nika will be performed, and the old man will submit to what he cannot avert."
"To-morrow!" cried the women, in a breath. "Do you think we can prepare her by to-morrow? Weeks might pass before she consents."
"I have said it," he replied; "and did I wait for her consent, I should not fulfil my destiny. I cannot recall spoken words. See ye to what ye have to do; why need she know? When the Moolla has spoken the Nika, she is mine, and cannot escape. See ye to it!" and he went out haughtily.
"What can we do? what can we do?" cried Máma Luteefa, whimpering, and wringing her hands. "If it were known in Moodgul that I had any hand in this violence, I should lose all my practice, and my honour, and my respect"—and she counted these upon the tips of her fingers—"and my wealth, and my reputation. Yes, I knew they were five. But I never had a hand in anything like this before; and I will tell it in the bazaars; I will cry it from the house top; yea, I will sit in the gate of the mosque and cry it to the faithful as they go to prayers," exclaimed the dame, by way of climax. "I will even go to Queen Chand's feet, and tell it there. What do I care?"
"Beware! Máma Luteefa," said Shireen-bee, with her finger on her lips; "those unblessed eunuchs are always prying about, and might hear thee. Let us take the girl in from this cold place; and, I think, if we sent for Goolab-bee, who knows her, she might be of use; Zóra would speak to her!"
Now Goolab-bee was the seller of pán. Her husband kept the only shop in the village. Of course she knew Zóra perfectly. It was her hour for coming, too; she never failed, for she must deliver her parcel before sunset, that she might get home again before dark.
Zóra had recovered from the faint, and had sat up, looking wildly about her. Her mouth was so parched that she now drank with avidity the water that was offered to her, and held out the cup for more. She would not speak, but covered up her head in the sheet that had been thrown over her. Máma Luteefa, thinking that a familiar name would rouse her, said kindly, "Do not fret, my fairy, Goolab-bee will be here directly, and you can talk to her."
"Goolab! where is she? Oh! bring her to me if ye have any pity!" cried Zóra; and, almost as she spoke, the voice of the woman was heard without, and she was called in as she entered. Zóra rose from the bed, and rushed into her arms. "Oh! save me, mother! save me!" she cried; "take me away, they have brought me here by force, and I shall die!"