It was only too true! The escort which was to see them on the road was already occupying the garden, the horses champing their bits and fretting because the long branches of the roses at which they snatched held nothing but thorns. Prince Akbar, indeed, was too much interested in watching them and wondering if they were very hungry to take much heed of anything else, but Princess Bakshee BÂni Begum, who was a very practical little person, at once began to pack up her favourite doll. "You had better choose out some toy, Mirak," said she, "or you will be wanting to play with mine, and I won't let you." But Mirak was busy with the horses. "I sha'n't want anything but my sword," he replied valiantly. "I'm a big boy now, and I'm going to play with real things." Then he turned to one of the troopers with a quaint air of authority. "Your horse is too thin. When I am King I shall see that my men give their horses enough to eat." Foster-father, who overheard the child, paused in the hasty arrangements he was making to look at the little Heir-to-Empire and put up a prayer that the Better, it might have been, for those in charge of him, to have risked all, taken refuge with the old mountain chief, and died like brave men. There was but one comfort in the whole affair. Prince Askurry must know that HumÂyon or his friends were close at hand, or he would not be in such a desperate hurry to send away the Heir-to-Empire. And this, indeed, was the truth. The fear of a rescue was so real and immediate that Prince Askurry had had to make his decision in a minute. So there was scarcely any time for preparation, and by noon the party had started for the three hundred and odd miles of mountainous country that lay between them and KÂbul. Only the children's faces were cheerful; even Roy's showed grave and anxious. They rode fast and far till dusk fell, when they had covered full twenty miles. For the last few, both the women, who were mounted behind troopers, had almost been dropping with fatigue, but the captain of the escort was under orders to go as far as possible that night, so he pushed on to reach a place In a way, both Tumbu and Down had already been of service to their young master, for the troopers of the Escort had been amused by the golliwog's gambols, and had admired Down's dignity, so they were more inclined to treat the whole party in kindly fashion. Indeed, next morning, the Captain of the Escort, whose anxiety about a rescue had, perhaps, been lessened by the uneventful night, was much less strict in his orders, and took Prince Akbar on his own saddle and let him hold the reins. "He is a brave, bold lad," he said to Foster-father; "were he to live, he would make a good King." Then he frowned, his mouth hardened and Foster-father, "Ho! slave there! bring my pony grass—dost hear? and be quick!" The man laughed. "AlÂh!" he said; "whose son be you to give orders that fashion?" "Whose son?" echoed the child passionately. "I am——" But Bija clung to his arm. "H'st, Mirak!" she whispered. "Remember what Head-nurse said that we were not to tell——" Akbar stood irresolute; he was wise beyond his years. "But Horse-chestnut must not be hungry. I won't have it!—he shall have grass," he said angrily; "So there! slave!" he cried defiantly with a stamp of his foot. The man looked at him curiously, said nothing, but went over to some others and began to whisper. A minute afterwards, Foster-father returning, found the children the centre of a little crowd eager in enquiry whence they came, whither they were going, and, ere he could get them safely to their quarters, the attention of the Captain of the Escort had been arrested, he came out frowning and fuming. "We march again in an hour," he said angrily to Foster-father. "On thy head be it if thou can'st not keep thy young fighting cock in order—'twill be all over the town by midnight!" Foster-father did not often let his temper get the better of his prudence, but he could not resist saying mildly: "Kingship is like the musk-bag, friend, that was broken at the royal child's birth. It diffuses its perfume over the habitable world, and none can mistake it." The Captain of the Escort shrugged his shoulders. "Then it shall smell in the wilderness, friend; for I run no risks of rescue this side the passes. So bid the women give the young crowing cockerel his supper and prepare to start again. There will be a moon in It was a bitter cold night. The wind blew keenly from the snow before them, and by the time they reached a miserable village, high up on the slopes of the pass, every one save the two children was chilled to the bone; but they, well happed in all the coverings the fugitives could compass, were warm; Akbar, in Foster-father's arms, with Down, the cat, cuddled up beside him, and acting as a hot bottle! Once more there was plenty of fuel in the rude hut where they found shelter, and stiffened limbs and half-frosted fingers soon began to thaw. Tumbu, who had kept himself supple by, as usual, bounding about, was the only one of the party who did not doze off at once, now comparative comfort was reached. But he was curiously restless. Over and over again he rose, went to the door and seemed to listen. Then he began to whine a little, then to scratch at the door as if he wanted to get out. Finally, finding no one paid any attention, he let loose one short, sharp bark, which awakened Head-nurse, who with an impatient look to see if her children had been disturbed, and an angry whisper, "Go, then! thou mean-born beast," rose softly, set open the door for a second, then closed it again, shivering with the chill blast that swept in. But Tumbu was out like a flash and disappeared in the darkness. It must have been an hour afterward that every one's slumber was disturbed by the most insistent barking that ever was heard. Even Akbar, usually the soundest of sleepers, sat up and rubbed his eyes. "The evil-dispositioned hound!" said Head-nurse in drowsy anger. "I deemed he had left us forever, and good riddance, too." But little Prince Akbar, half awake, protested in defence of his dear dog. "Tumbu only barks when he wants something, nurse; go and see what it is." "A likely story!" cried Head-nurse. "Well," interposed Foster-father philosophically, "some one must go if any one is to sleep." Whereat he went to the door; but Tumbu on the doorstep refused to come in; he barked, bounced off, and returned the next minute to whine and bark again. "He only wants something; go and see what it is," came Mirak's deep-toned voice. "I know he wants something." "Lo! man alive!" grumbled Head-nurse; "shut the door whichever way it is. I perish with cold!" Foster-father was a wise man, so to avoid further discussion he stepped out and shut the door behind him. Thus for a minute or two there was peace. Then Foster-father's voice rose urgently from outside. "Open! I say open! Quick!" Foster-mother flew to obey, and her husband stag It was Roy the RÂjput! "I found him quite close, frozen by the cold," he continued, as they set to work before the fire to rub the poor, stiff limbs and force a few drops of hot milk through the blue lips. It was some time before a faint sigh, a quiver of the eyelids told that Roy was once more coming back to the world; but after that it was not long before he could sit up and tell them what had happened. He had managed to evade the eyes of the troopers, and had arrived at the serai just after the startled party had left it; had followed on their traces until he had lost his way. In despair he had been stumbling along aimlessly when Tumbu had suddenly appeared. Following his lead, he had struggled on, gradually benumbed by cold, until at last his feet had failed him, and he remembered no more. "Tumbu wanted Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "I told you he wanted something." And Tumbu, hearing his name, roused his furry head from his furry paws and looked at his young master with his sharp, beady, black eyes, as who should say: "Of course I did, because I knew you wanted him." |