"He is not come," said her father; "it may be some messenger. God grant there may be no evil tidings! Be calm, my child; I will go below and ascertain, and will return or send word about him!"
Hurrying down to the gate, he found the sentinel in altercation with the lad we have before mentioned. It was evident that the boy had been there some time, and the sentinel, being informed that his young lord was safe, had no idea of wakening any one before the usual hour of morning prayer. As Afzool Khan approached the gate alone, he heard the lad's earnest prayer for aid answered by a dogged refusal.
"Begone!" said the man through the wicket; "thy tale may be true enough, and the Sahib Zadah[8] may be where he is; but, look you, the great Khan Sahib is fast asleep, and cannot be awakened. Everybody is asleep; there is no woman here to send to him in the zenana. Begone therefore, or lay down at the gate. When morning prayer is over, thou shalt have speech of the Khan. Till it is broad daylight, I draw no bolt. If thou wilt not go, at least sit quiet, for there are gentleman in the guard-room here who might treat thee roughly if disturbed in their sleep."
The boy was turning away sadly, when the voice of Afzool Khan was heard calling from the inner court, as he unfastened the door leading to the larger one.
"Whose is that voice?—who speaks without?—why is he not admitted?" he asked.
"My lord," replied the man on duty, "the Sahib Zadah is not here, but there is a boy who says he knows of him."
"Was it well, Yousuf, to turn him away?" asked Afzool Khan. "Suppose my son had had need of us."
"Nay; but my lord slept, and the Sahib Zadah was safe. Bulwunt Rao only is wounded—and there were no women to send—and I did but tell him to wait," stammered the man.
"No matter—where is the boy? Open the wicket," said Afzool Khan impatiently.