Reginald thought the attempt a hazardous one, but yet, as it was the only scheme likely to succeed, he consented. After the rajah had told him this, he was sauntering about in the gateway of the house, imitating the manners of a sowar, when he caught sight of the mendicant slowly approaching, asking alms of all he met. The man’s little bleared eyes twinkled as he came up to Reginald, whom he appeared at once to recognise.
“You can be trusted, I see,” said Reginald. “You will receive a handsome reward if you faithfully perform the service I require of you.”
“Say what it is, sahib, and you shall be obeyed,” responded the byraghee.
“To hasten forthwith to the spot where our friends lie concealed, and to direct them, as soon as the shades of evening appear, to push forward at hot speed towards the northern gate, which they may reach before they are challenged. Should they succeed in passing through, they are to gallop on to the palace, where they will find the rajah and such friends as he may be able to rally round him. If they fail in the attempt, they are to retire till they hear from his highness or me.” Reginald, as he spoke, put a piece of money into the mendicant’s hand, to deceive any who might have observed them speaking together.
“You shall be obeyed, sahib,” said the mendicant, moving on, and continuing as before to beg of all he met. Instead of going in the direction he had been following, however, he contrived to turn round; and Reginald saw him making his way in the direction of the northern gate, as if bent on carrying out the orders he had received.
“So far our scheme prospers,” thought Reginald; “but I wish that I had the means of ascertaining where the rajah’s grand-daughter has taken refuge. Should the traitor Mukund Bhim have got her into his power, he would have as little scruple in putting her to death as he would in killing any of the rajah’s sons. Poor young creature! I don’t like to increase the old man’s anxieties by alluding to her, but he must tremble at the thought of what may have become of her.”
Notwithstanding the rajah’s caution to Reginald, he could scarcely refrain from going out and mixing with the crowd, to obtain information of what was going on. Prudence, however, restrained him. He walked up and down impatiently at his post, in the hope of seeing some one among them who had frequented the court, and who he thought might be trusted; but of the thousands who continued to hurry by he did not recognise a single person. He forgot that all the time he was running a great risk of being recognised himself; for although he had done his utmost, aided by the worthy merchant, to change his appearance, he might easily have been detected by any one who had before known him.
Thus the hours passed slowly away, and at length the shades of evening began to steal over the city. On going up into the rajah’s room, Reginald found him habited in his usual costume, with a large robe ready to throw over his shoulders, which, with the aid of the darkness of night, would conceal his figure from those he might meet. His scimitar was by his side, and a brace of pistols in his belt.
“The time for action has arrived,” he said in a firm voice. “We will go forth, my young friend, and succeed, or perish in the attempt. Our first care, as soon as we have gathered my faithful guards about us, must be to secure the safety of my grandchild, Nuna; and we may then, should we be attacked, defend the palace till the arrival of your English friend with my brave horsemen. Come, we will set out. I do not fear discovery, as no one will suppose that I am in the city; and people will take me for a foreign merchant on his way to transact business with some khan or other wealthy person.”
“Should any one venture to interfere with you, I shall be ready to sacrifice my life in your defence,” answered Reginald.