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THE DISH OF POMEGRANATE GRAIN
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to them and they entered, and lo! the hand that opened the portals was the hand of a slave of the Sword, and against corners of the Court leaned slaves silly with slumber. So Kadza went up to them, and beat them, and shook them, and they yawned and mumbled, 'Excellent grain! good grain! the grain of Shiraz!' And she beat them with what might was hers, till some fell sideways and some forward, still mumbling, 'Excellent pomegranate grain!' Kadza was beside herself with anger and vexation at them, tearing them and cuffing them; but Noorna cried, 'O Kadza! what said I? there's danger to Shagpat in this dish of pomegranate grain! and what's that saying


"'Tis much against the Master's wish
That slaves too greatly praise his dish."


Wullahy! I like not this talk of the grain of Shiraz.'

Now, while Noorna spake, the eyes of Kadza became like those of the starved wild-cat, and she sprang off and along the marble of the Court, and clawed a passage through the air and past the marble pillars of the palace toward the first room of reception, Noorna following her. And in the first room were slaves leaning and lolling like them about the Court, and in the second room and in the third room, silent all of them and senseless. So at this sight the spark of suspicion became a mighty flame in the bosom of Kadza, and horror burst out at all ends of her, and she shuddered, and cried, 'What for us, and where's our hope if Shagpat be shorn, and he lopped of the Identical, shamed like the lion of my dream!'

And Noorna clasped her hands, and said, ''Tis that I fear! Seek for him, O Kadza!'

So Kadza ran to a window and looked forth over the garden of the palace, and it was a fair garden with the gleam of a fountain and watered plants and cool arches of shade, thick bowers, fragrant alleys, long sheltered