"Ah no—to-morrow morning I cannot move conveniently, but the day after I will join you here by daylight, and we will travel together."
"Jo Hookum!" I replied; "I shall be ready; and now have I permission to depart?"
"Certainly," he said; "I will no longer detain you, for I must be off myself. My friend Sulabut Khan has an entertainment of some kind to-night, and I have promised to attend it."
I returned to my tent, and though I longed to break the matter to my father, yet I refrained from doing so until the Nuwab had fairly joined us, when I would introduce him properly. As we were preparing to start the third morning before daylight, the Nuwab rode into our camp and inquired for me. I was speedily with him, and my father coming up to us, I introduced them to each other. After the usual compliments had passed, my father, unobserved by the Nuwab, threw me a significant glance, I returned it, and he understood me; a look of triumph passed across his features, which gratified me, because to me alone was the band indebted for the adventure which was to follow.
Our party was soon in motion, and as the light increased with the dawning day, it revealed to me the person and dress of the Nuwab, who now rode by my side. He was mounted on a splendid bay horse, which moved proudly and spiritedly beneath his noble master: the trappings of the animal were of crimson velvet, somewhat soiled, but still exceedingly handsome, for the saddlecloth and headstall were embroidered with gold thread in a rich pattern.
But the rider chiefly attracted my observation: he wore a shirt of mail, composed of the finest steel links, exquisitely polished, over his ordinary clothes: at his waist it was confined by a handsome green shawl, which he had tied round him, and in which were stuck two or three daggers, mounted in gold and silver. His arms were cased in steel gauntlets, as far as the elbows, and greaves of steel protected his thighs. On his head was a bright steel cap, from the top of which a crimson silk tassel depended, and a shawl handkerchief was folded round it to protect his head from the heat of the sun. At his back hung a shield of rhinoceros hide, richly painted and gilt; a long sword hung at his side from an embroidered velvet belt which passed over his shoulder; and at his saddle-bow was fastened a small battle-axe with a long and brightly polished steel handle.
Well did his appearance accord with his fame as a warrior. I had seen hundreds of soldiers at Hyderabad, but I had never yet looked on one so perfectly equipped as he who now rode beside me—nor one, could I but have attached myself to him, in whom I should have placed such confidence and followed readily into the deadliest strife. But what was the use of his weapons or his armour? They would not avail him,—his hours were numbered, and his breath already in his nostrils.
"You observe me intently," said he.
"I do," I replied; "for I have never yet seen so perfect a cavalier: horse, arms, and accoutrements all agree in setting off their noble owner. Do you always travel thus?"
"Always, Meer Sahib; a soldier should never be out of his harness. The short time I have spent in idleness with that luxurious dog Sulabut Khan has softened my body, and even now I feel my armour chafe me. But the time comes when I shall need it, and I had as well accustom myself to it."