"Then wait two weeks and see." Hawksworth felt his palms grow moist. "Two weeks is not so long a time."
"It is a very long time, Ambassador. Much is happening. You have made many of the wrong friends. Good evening, Ambassador. I must speak to Her Majesty." Nadir Sharif turned and was swallowed by the crowd.
As Hawksworth moved into the street, he saw that the front of the palace was already bathed in morning light. And Agra was beginning to come to life. He strolled for a time along the side of the Jamuna, where burned-out candles still floated, and studied the outline of the Red Fort against the morning sky.
What if there really is no fleet? What if it really was a trick by Jadar, for some reason of his own? To destroy my mission? Has he cozened us all?
Midmorning was approaching when he finally reached his lodge at the rear of Nadir Sharifs estate. As he passed through the curtained doorway, he saw Kamala waiting, her eyes dark. She was wearing none of her jewels.
"Have you heard?" She took his turban and knelt to remove his kamar-band.
"Heard what?"
"Do you know the Sufi Samad? And the Persian woman who was with him?"
Hawksworth examined her, wondering who else knew of his stay in Fatehpur Sekri.
"Why do you ask?"