‘Holy Alla!’ cried one of the women at last, ‘she has opened her eyes.’
The light was apparently too much for them, for she shut them again and relapsed into stupor; but the respiration continued, and the alarm that she had died ceased to exist. Gradually, very gradually, she regained consciousness; and ere many hours had elapsed she was in a deep sleep, freed from all anxiety regarding her lord, whom on her first recovery she had presumed was lost.
The Khan and Daood had scarcely again reached the chowrie, when a large body of men with torches, shouting joyfully, approached it. Daood’s heart leaped to his mouth. ‘She cannot have been saved!’ he cried, as he advanced to meet them.
‘Ul-humd-ul-illa!’ cried a dozen voices, ‘she has, and is in the Patél’s[[6]] house.’
[6]. The chief or magistrate of a village.
Without any ceremony they broke in upon the unfortunate Khan, who sat, or rather lay, absorbed in his grief. Alone, the memory of his wife had come vividly over him; and when he raised his head, on their intrusion, his wet cheek very plainly told that his manly sorrow had found vent.
‘Ul-humd-ul-illa!’ cried Daood, panting for breath.
‘Ul-humd-ul-illa!’ echoed Kasim.