"I forbid it. I forbid one paper or one of you passing hence this night till the money is paid," said the Jogi, severely.
"And who art thou?" demanded the Meerza, haughtily. "Peace! withdraw; this is no place for thee, or the like of thee."
"Who am I?" retorted the ruffian. "Who am I? One who has the right, as he has the power, to demand what he seeks." And as he spoke he snatched from beneath the heap of ashes before him the heavy sword he had kept concealed there, which flashed brightly in the firelight, and started to his feet, as did also his follower. "Stir not!" he exclaimed to the King and Secretary, who had been too much startled by the sudden action to rise with the Jogi; "stir not, or ye die on the spot!" Drawing himself up to his majestic height, Pahar Singh laughed scornfully. "Ha, ha, ha! a boy and a penman against me! Ha, ha, ha! put up thy weapon, Maun Singh, there is no need of it."
"Who art thou?" demanded the King, rising notwithstanding the threat, and returning the glance as steadily as it was given.
"It concerns thee not," answered Pahar Singh. "Pay me the money promised on those papers—ten thousand good rupees—on this spot, or you pass not hence alive. Brother," he added to Maun Singh, "be ready. They have brought the money, and we must get it."
It was a moment of intense anxiety to Fazil Khan and his companion. A word—a sound from them, and the life of the young King was gone. Fazil could see that, except a small dagger in each of their girdles, the King and his Secretary were unarmed. To rush to them soon enough to be of use, was a thing impossible; they would be dead ere he could strike a blow. There was no absolute peril, however, as yet, and too much at stake to risk anything. Pahar Singh appeared to have no evil intention; but, if provoked, it was plain he might do violence, and would not hesitate to use his weapon if rescue were attempted.
The King saw his danger. There was little avail in temporizing, and his thought and action were alike prompt. His own life and his friend's were both at stake; and what did the money signify? Not a feather in the balance. Could his attendants, whom he had left at a distance, even hear of his danger, he must perish ere they could approach him.
"Hold!" he cried, "whoever thou art, Jogi. If the Lalla says thou art to have the money, it will be given. Our bargain was with him."
"And his with me," returned the man. "Give it me;" and as he spoke he advanced close to the King.
"Pay it to him—let him have it," cried the Lalla to the King, "and keep back your men if you have any with you, else there will be bloodshed. He is desperate, noble sirs; do not provoke him."