“You also have my given word that unless I get Ali Partab this palace burns, with all that there is in it!”
Distrustful still, the captain of the guard called out to a sweeper, skulking in the shadow by the stables to go and loose Ali Partab.
“Send no sweepers to him!” ordered Alwa. “He has suffered indignity enough. Go thou!”
The captain of the guard obeyed. Two minutes later Ali Partab stood before Alwa and saluted.
“Sahib, my master's thanks!”
“They are accepted,” answered Alwa, with almost regal dignity. “Bring a lamp!” he ordered.
One of the guard brought a hand-lantern, and by its light Alwa examined Ali Partab closely. He was filthy, and his clothing reeked of the disgusting confinement he had endured.
“Give this man clothing fit for a man of mine!” commanded Alwa.
“Sahib, there is none; perhaps the Jaimihr-sahib—”
“I have ordered!”