‘Ay—why dost thou repeat my words? Did Kasim Ali ever perform ceremonies for her—for her, thy wife, Ameena?’
‘Kasim Ali—for Ameena? Dog! how darest thou name her before me?’
‘Dog in thy teeth!’ cried the other fiercely; ‘I tell thee, old man, I am thy friend, else I would have blood for that word. Khan Sahib, listen: thou art old—thou hast untarnished fame—men love thee—I, whom thou hast sneered at and reviled, love thee—I would not see thee wronged.’
‘Wronged!’
‘Ay, wronged! cannot such things be?—Old men have young wives—what is the consequence? Old man, I say, look to thine house to-night, for one will leave it to return no more.’
The Khan gasped for breath, and tottered to the wall of the cavalier, which prevented his falling; he rallied after an instant, and with his sword uplifted rushed upon Jaffar.
‘Strike!’ said the latter, as he drew himself up proudly, ‘if thou canst strike one who speaks only for thy good!’
‘For my good—O Alla!’ groaned the Khan, dropping the point of his sword; ‘messenger of evil! say that thou hast lied, and I will forgive thee—I will bless thee!’
‘I cannot; by the holy Kaaba of Mecca, I swear it is too true.’
‘True! blessed Prophet! give me patience; what! of Kasim Ali?—of my son?’