“And allow me also, honoured friend,” said Siddha, “to take my leave; it is time that I should return to my troop.”
“If you will,” said Parviz, “come and fetch me this evening; my dwelling is on the way, and we can go together.”
“With pleasure,” answered the other, as he turned away to return to his post.
Though Siddha had anticipated that Salim’s palace would be one of great splendour, yet his expectations were far outstripped by the unheard-of luxury which surrounded him on all sides, as he passed through different ante-rooms and rows of servants, before reaching the brilliantly lighted hall where the Prince welcomed his friends. In spite of the richness of the imperial palace, there was something grave and sober about it; but here, on the contrary, in the midst of Moorish architecture and sparkling decoration, all breathed of luxury and the search after boundless enjoyment. Many coloured hangings of silk and gold hung from the finely cut arches, and the marble walls were partly covered with variegated mosaic work and gilding; thick masses of flowers spread fragrance around; broad mirrors reflected back the light, while the foot sank deep in soft carpets of fantastic designs; luxurious divans wooed the passer-by to repose; and there at his hand were drinking-cups of open-worked gold and crystal, and porphyry and marble coolers of every form. On one side of the hall was a kind of stage, lighted with coloured lamps, where dancers and players were to perform. All this formed a picture that at first sight would strike the beholder with surprise, however accustomed he might be to the palaces of India.
Salim quickly caught sight of the new comers among the other guests, who stood talking in groups, while others reclined on divans, and advancing towards them, he said, “You are right welcome to my humble dwelling, and I hope that this evening will afford you enjoyment; but let me tell you that etiquette has nothing to do with pleasure, and here we are all friends.”
The Prince turned away, and at the same moment Siddha saw approach a well-known but unexpected figure—that of Salhana, Governor of Allahabad.
“Well, nephew,” he said, giving him his hand, “I am very glad to meet you here; I have just arrived, and found an invitation from the Prince awaiting me.”
“And how goes all yonder?” asked Siddha; “and how is——”
“Iravati,” interrupted Salhana. “Very well; she sends her greetings. But see, there comes a man whose acquaintance you must make; he is not much seen at court, but, for all that, is a man well worth knowing.”
No introduction was necessary, for the man was no other than Abdul Kadir, Badaoni, the Islam fanatic, whom Siddha had already met in the imperial park with Akbar. To his astonishment this man greeted his uncle with courtesy, although he was an unbeliever like himself; and even to his share fell a recognition which could not be considered uncourteous.