Their positions were changed; the hitherto submissive daughter now commanded, and forced the haughty father to subjection. Without a word, he turned and hurried away, with a fierce expression of foiled rage on his dark countenance.
[1] See note at p. 62.
[2] A goddess, the wife of Siva, named Kali, from her black complexion. The same as Durga.
Chapter XI.
“Tauhid-i-Ilahi.”[1]
As usual, when evening closed in, a gaily coloured crowd thronged round the shops and houses of one of the smaller bazars of Agra, situated on the river. Here and there dice-players sat in open verandahs round their boards; and there passed drunken[2] soldiers armed with various weapons; a little retired from the crowd reposed solitary opium-eaters, lost in blissful dreams; and there also were grave Muhammadans deep in earnest conversation, and deigning for once to take a turn amongst the despised Hindus engaged in their social pleasures.
“Yes, Ali,” said one of these to his companion, “with Akbar and his court things go from bad to worse. Evening after evening I know that these blasphemous meetings take place. Yesterday, about midnight, I passed by the palace, and what do you think I saw? All the Emperor’s windows were brilliantly lit, sparkling with many lamps and wax tapers. But for what? For no feast such as a prince might celebrate. No; all was still as death, excepting a solemn song, or rather hymn. Akbar himself has, I have heard, composed several of them; and however well they sound, they have nothing to do with our religious service to the praise of the Great Prophet.”
“And what does this betoken?” said Ali.