"And thou hast no congratulation for thy father, Fazil?" asked the Khan, in a tone of disappointment.
"O father, a thousand that thou art safe through last night," cried Fazil, "and——"
"No rejoicing for victory over the infidels?" asked the priest, with a sneer. "Thou hast a rare sympathy with them, I know, Meah Sahib; is this seemly in a Mussulman?"
"Not with rebels, not with the King's enemies," returned Fazil quickly; "but I never warred against priests and women yet, nor did he. What hath been done, father?"
"Well, son," replied the Khan, "they would not let us in after those Mahratta rebels, and Pahar Singh there broke down the door; meanwhile some of our men had been shot, for they fired first, and Huzrut there cried 'Deen, Deen!' and we all rushed in pell-mell and cleared the court; that is all." He said this apologetically, Fazil thought, and feared to tell the rest.
"Will you come with me, Pahar Singh?" said the young man; "you know the place; I would see it."
"Yes, I will come," said the chief, rising, and sighing as he replied; "perhaps it could not be helped, and yet some things were done which will stir Hindu minds sorely throughout the country. Come, Meah Sahib; it is not a pleasant sight, but I will go with you."
"Keep the prisoner till I return, father," continued Fazil; "I would fain hear what he says for himself."
"If thou wilt go, son, return quickly," replied the Khan, "but I had rather thou didst not. What is the use of it? what is done is done;" and Fazil thought his father sighed.
"I would rather see the worst with my own eyes, father," replied Fazil, "than hear lies from others. Come, sir," he added to Pahar Singh, who waited for him, "I attend you."