"The Prince!" burst from the surrounding soldiers, and all turned towards the gateway of the fort, where a little group of men could be seen. A palanquin was brought out, and the bearers carried it swiftly down the winding path. Almost unconsciously the crowd below pressed forward to the foot of the cliff. The palanquin reached the bottom and stopped, and the fakir, who had followed it, opened the curtains and helped out a bent figure—unmistakably Sher Singh. A shriek broke from the Rani.
"He has outridden me and reached this place first!" she cried. "See his weakness, his deathly aspect. What but four days and nights of riding could account for it?"
Disregarding her words, Sher Singh turned with dignity to Gerrard. "What does my friend Jirad Sahib require of me?" he asked mildly. "At his command I have risen from my bed, weak and faint with illness though I am. My servants tell me that my brother is dead. Is my blood desired also?"
"Your brother died calling upon you to spare him," said Gerrard.
"And is the life of a man to hang upon the cry of a terrified child?" asked Sher Singh, with the same dignified meekness. "Nay, if he cried out 'Brother!' would he not say the same to any man of Granthi stock? Jirad Sahib knows our customs, and that it is our wont to speak thus to one another."
"The matter must be properly tried," said Gerrard. "Your Highness sees"—he turned to the Rani—"that there is no proof against the brother of your son. Let me entreat you to retire to the tent prepared for you, and rest."
The Rani waved him back with a contemptuous gesture. "I have asked for no trial," she cried; "I demand justice. Here to his face I accuse Sher Singh of having ridden secretly to Agpur and murdered my son, his brother, and then returned hither in haste that he might give the lie to my words. Who is on my side? Who will slay this wretch for me? Jirad Sahib?"
"Maharaj, I can do nothing until the whole matter has been inquired into and fairly decided."
"Oh, words, words! such as the English ever speak, and do nothing until it is too late! You then, soldiers of Partab Singh Rajah! Will you see your king's son murdered unavenged? Avenge me on his murderer!"
No one moved, but from the back of the crowd a murmur arose which swelled into a cry, "Sher Singh Rajah! Sher Singh Rajah!" The Rani started as if she had been stung.