"I have but asked two questions, and there is no answer," said the Moolla, looking around. "There are no messengers from the bride, no preparations for a procession. Therefore, friends, bear witness that I refuse to repeat the Qools;[1] that I refuse to abet violence. I am a helpless old man, who has no force to resist thee, Osman Beg, but in the name of God and the Prophet, peace be on him, I bear witness, even to the death of a martyr, that thou hast done a foul wrong, and I demand the girl Zóra from thee, in the name of Queen Chand. Dohái! Dohái!"
"Insolent!" cried the Nawab, half drawing his sword; "insolent! Thou to call me to account!"
"Be quiet, brother!" cried the buffoon, seizing the Nawab's hand; "thou art a valiant soldier, but wouldst thou murder a man of God?" Meanwhile, as he spoke, many present gathered round the brave old priest, and escorted him out of the assembly. Only a few remained, the profligate, boon companions of the Governor.
"The beginning of my fate!" exclaimed the Nawab, aside. "It is soon begun; but it shall never be said that Osman Beg was frightened by a priest. Away! one of ye take the riding camel, and bring a kazee or a priest from Moodgul before to-morrow evening closes. The camels are beyond the river. See that he takes a hundred rupees with him," he added to the treasurer. "Go! and see it done."
"Now, why be in a hurry," said the buffoon; "I will manage the marriage without further trouble. Where are the two Mámas?"
Luteefa-bee had been sitting behind the curtain, listening to every word that was spoken. "Here am I, Máma Luteefa," she said, advancing into the assembly. "Your slave is present; what would ye have of me?"
"Is Zóra-bee ready, mother?" said the jester, "and willing, and accepts the dowry? And are you her agent? Whisper in my ear."
But the dame was silent. She had been at hundreds of marriages, and this was only insolent buffoonery; she knew the Nawab must wait.