It was irresistibly ludicrous to behold him. His splendid armour and dress but ill assorted with the mincing gait and absurd motions he was going through, and we all laughed heartily. But the farce was proceeding too long, and we had sterner matter in hand than to waste our time and opportunity in such fooleries. So I begged him again to be seated, and motioned to Surfuraz Khan to be ready the instant he should see me go round to his back.
"Ho, Kureena!" cried he, when he had again seated himself, "bring more subzee, my girl. By Alla! this thirst is unquenchable,—and thou art excelling thyself to-day in preparing it. I must have more, or I shall never get to the end of this vile stage. I feel now as if I could sleep, and some more will revive me."
"Fazil Khan, bring my hooka," cried I, as loud as I could. It was the signal we had agreed on.
"Ay," cried the Nuwab, "I will beg a whiff or two, 'twill be agreeable with my sherbet."
I had now moved round behind him; my roomal was in my hand, and I signalled to Surfuraz Khan to seize him.
"Look, Nuwab!" cried he: and he laid hold on his right arm with a firm grasp.
"How dare you touch me, slave!" ejaculated Subzee Khan; "how dare you touch a Nuwab——"
He did not finish the sentence: I had thrown the cloth about his neck; Surfuraz Khan still held his hand, and my father pulled at his legs with all his force. The Nuwab snored several times like a man in a deep sleep, but my grip was firm and did not relax—a horse would have died under it. Suddenly, as he writhed under me, every muscle in his body quivered; he snored again still louder, and the now yielding form offered no resistance. I gazed upon his features, and saw that the breath of life had passed from the body it had but now animated. Subzee Khan was dead—I had destroyed the slayer of hundreds!
But no one had thought of his poor slave girl, who, at some distance, and with her back turned to us, had been busily engaged in preparing another rich draught for her now unconscious master. She had not heard the noise of our scuffle, nor the deep groans which had escaped from some of the Nuwab's people, and she approached the spot where Surfuraz Khan was now employed in stripping the armour and dress from the dead body. Ya Alla! Sahib, what a piercing shriek escaped her when she saw what had been done! I shall never forget it, nor her look of horror and misery as she rushed forward and threw herself on the body. Although master and slave, Sahib, they had loved.
Her lips were glued to those of the unconscious corpse, which had so often returned her warm caresses, and she murmured in her agony all the endearing terms by which she had used in their private hours to call him, and implored him to awake. "He cannot be dead! he cannot be dead!" cried the fair girl,—for she was beautiful to look on, Sahib, as she partly rose and brushed back her dishevelled hair from her eyes. "And yet he moves not—he speaks not;" and she gazed on his features for a moment. "Ah!" she screamed, "look at his eyes, look at them—they will fall out of his head! And his countenance—'tis not my own lord's; those are not the lips which have often spoken kind words to his poor Kureena! Oh, my heart, what a pain is there!"