She eluded him by a quick movement.
"In a little," she returned, playfully. "See that thou waitest until I come again to thee. Then shalt thou swear by thy Prophet's beard, that Lachmi Bai hath wit as well as beauty."
"Until death," he replied, "only tarry not too long, Fair One."
She cast toward him an enthralling glance, and passing from the hall, hurried to the inner apartments of the palace.
"Now by Allah"! he reflected, exultingly. "The fortune of Ahmad Khan, the Humble Servant of God, doth rise as the sun in a cloudless heaven."
The Rani's action was swift and silent. She summoned those upon whom she could rely and spoke in urgent accents.
"Go quickly," she commanded to one, "into the bazaars and summon all my people to the courtyard of the palace." To another, "Let my retainers arm themselves and guard every outlet so that no man passes in or forth. Tell Prasad and my officers, that I need their presence on the balcony overlooking the main entrance. Go, with wings on your feet. Hasten, for there is no time to be lost."
She passed into a private chamber and hastily arrayed herself in a magnificent embroidered sari, the silken clinging texture of which displayed her form to its perfection of royal beauty. Round her neck she hung ropes of pearls, and in her hair she entwined a wreath of fragrant blossoms. Thus attired she proceeded to the wide balcony overlooking the courtyard.
A throng of people had gathered and crowded about the main entrance. Others were hurrying from the bazaars and side streets at the bidding of the Rani's messengers. With animated countenances, they asked of each other the meaning of the summons.
Behind the domes and turrets of the rock citadel, the sun was sinking toward the horizon. It cast broad shadows over the courtyard, now filling rapidly with a surging, excited, human mass. The Rani was quickly joined by Prasad and officers faithful to her service. With these in attendance she moved to the edge of the parapet.