Ahmad tested the speed of his horse until he approached within a short distance of the compound surrounding his dwelling. Then he slackened his pace and assumed an air of grave dejection.
"Good Prasad must believe that the heart of Ahmad Khan goes out to him in sympathy," he soliloquized, "while the disclosure of the Rani's faithlessness is drawn forth unwillingly from his friendly lips."
Prasad awaited the Mohammedan's return in a state of feverish anxiety. He remarked Ahmad's gloomy visage immediately.
"Thou art the bearer of ill news, O Ahmad," he exclaimed, ere the usual greetings had been exchanged.
"Alas"! returned the other. "My countenance doubtless reflects the sadness of my heart."
"Speak," enjoined Prasad. "Tell me the worst thou knowest, for I feel assured it hath to deal with my unlucky case."
"The worst may be told quickly enough, good friend," replied Ahmad. "Yet, I would that thou urgest me not to such an unpleasant office. Let us discuss other matters, and leave the disagreeable topic to a later hour."
Prasad waved his hand impatiently.
"Tell me quickly," he cried. "Bad news is like decaying fruit. It becomes the more rotten with the keeping. Did the Rani refuse to hearken to my request"?
"Aye, she did even more than that," came the reply. "She refused to have thy name mentioned in her presence."