‘Kasim Ali Jemadar Huzrut!’ cried Lall Khan advancing, ‘has not been seen since—’
‘Not been seen!’ thundered the Sultaun, attempting to rise, and sinking back in pain,—‘not been seen! and thou to tell me this! Oh kumbukht! By Alla, Lall Khan, hadst thou not too aided me, thou shouldest have been scourged till the skin was cut from thy back. Begone! thou and thy companions—seek him, dead or alive, and bring him hither to me.’
‘Asylum of the world! he lies, if he be killed, among the dead upon the edge of the ditch, and the enemy is in possession of the walls, and—’
‘Begone!’ roared the Sultaun; ‘if he was in hell thou shouldest bring him. Begone! thou art a coward, Lall Khan.’
‘Huzrut!’ said the old Khan, rising and joining his hands, hardly able to speak, for his grief was choking him; ‘if your slave has his dismissal, he will accompany Lall Khan in search of—’ He could not finish the speech, and the big tears rolled down his rough visage upon his beard.
‘Go, Rhyman Khan,’ said the Sultaun, evidently touched by his emotion; ‘may you be successful.’ And again he relapsed into silence, as the two officers departed on their almost hopeless errand.
‘The tiger will have blood ere he is pacified,’ whispered Bakir Sahib, who had arrived, and now sat near Nedeem. ‘I pray Alla it may be none of this assembly!’
‘Will they find Kasim Ali?’ asked the other.
‘Willa Alum,’ responded his friend, ‘I think not; but he will be no loss to us.’
‘None—but what is this?’