"Then I will take employ with them, Meer Sahib; this stuff would tempt many a better Moosulman than I am to serve an infidel. But they say Sikundar Jah drinks it also."
"So I heard when I was at Hyderabad," said I; "indeed it was there I first tasted this liquor; and I knew the bottles again when I saw them in the Feringhees' houses at Guntoor."
"It is fit drink for a prince," sighed the Khan, when he had finished the bottle, and looking at it with a most rueful countenance. "That is finished, Meer Sahib; thou saidst thou hadst another?"
"Ay, Khan! but only this one," I replied, handing him the other.
"I feel happy now, Meer Sahib. By Alla! I could sing—I could dance, I think, though it would be a scandal to do so. The Prophet, however, has not forbidden a Moslem to sing. May his name be honoured! Have any of you a sitar? People say that I have a good hand."
"Go and fetch Motee-ram's," said I to Peer Khan; "it is a good one. Shall the owner of it come also, Khan?"
"Nay, I care not, Meer Sahib; though the devil came, I would pluck him by the beard; let him come. Can he sing?"
"Like a bulbul, Khan; I have rarely heard a better voice from a man."
"Oh, for some women!" sighed the Khan; "one misses the glances of their antelope eyes, and the tinkle of their anklets in moments like these. Ah, Meer Sahib, we were happy dogs when we were encamped in the Krishna. There was one charmer—but why speak of them, Meer Sahib—why speak of them?"