"Peace! woman," cried I; "beware how you revile my father."
"May his mouth be filled with earth and his grave defiled! May your mother——"
I could bear this no longer. I ran to the door for my shoes, and held one in my hand threateningly. "Now," said I, "another word of abuse, and I will beat you on the mouth."
It did not check her. A fresh torrent poured from her lips, and I was really provoked. I could bear it no longer. I rushed at her, beat her on the face with my shoe, and spat on her. The daughter hurried to the stair-head and raised cries of alarm. "Thief, thief! He is murdering us! Kasim Mahomed Ali, where are ye? We are murdered—we are defamed! Bring your swords, and kill him!"
I had pretty well belaboured the old woman, and thought it high time to be off; so I rushed to the door, and seizing Zenat threw her to the other side of the room with all my force. I saw that she had a heavy fall, and I ran down the stairs: about half way I met a man with a drawn sword; he stood, and was about to make a cut at me, but I seized his arm and hurled him down the steps, and as he rolled to the bottom I leaped over him and was outside the house in a moment. Well, thought I, as I went along, I have not got Zora, but I have slippered the old shitan her mother, which is some satisfaction, and Bhudrinath will laugh rarely when he hears of my exploit.
[CHAPTER XX.]
"For the love of Alla! young man," cried a low and sweet voice as I passed under the gateway of a respectable-looking house; "for the love of Alla, enter, and save my mistress!"
Fresh adventures, thought I, as I looked at the speaker, a young girl, dressed like a slave. "Who are you?"
"It matters not," said the speaker; "did you not pass this way yesterday afternoon, in company with two others?"