THE RAJPUT QUEEN
"Thou little knowest that black, vindictive creature if thou thinkest so," replied Jelekha with a shudder. "I have made him an enemy to-night. A man may forget and a woman may forgive, but that cruel sexless creature never forgives and never forgets."
Jelekha, then laid her finger on her lips, and the two went on. They passed by many edifices of rare design and beauty, built of marbles and rich stones, and surmounted by spires and domes which glittered in the light of the stars. Female guards with swords and dirks patrolled the passages. The darkness of the winter night was lit up by innumerable lights from the palaces, and far off was heard the brawling of the broad Jumna, which swept below. At last they came to a superb palace which blazed with light, and the voice of song and music rose within. Jelekha gently opened the door, and they entered a great hall.
On a raised platform, covered by the finest brocades of Benares, sat Prince Selim, the eldest son of Akbar, and heir-apparent to the proudest Empire on earth. Fragrant lamps shone on stands of silver; the finest fruits of Kabul were arranged in dishes of crystal; wines of Shiraz sparkled in goblets of gold. Jodh Bai, the Rajput Queen of Akbar, was entertaining her royal son. The hall was brilliant with lights, and fair dancers of Agra, known as Kanchanis or the Golden Ones, surrounded the throne in a semi-circle, and sang to the royal guest.
Their tinkling feet kept time, their soft, white arms were held out as if to court an embrace, and the gold on their sweeping dresses sparkled in the light. The music at last ceased with a loud flourish, the voice of song was hushed, and the bright circle of dancers stood in a
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