THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA
row, bending their jewelled heads towards the throne, and folding their hands over their panting bosoms.
Prince Selim was gratified. The flush of wine was on his brow, and his eyes sparkled as he gazed on the fairy scene before him. Apart from the dancers, and against marble walls, stood a row of female attendants, silent, graceful, with heads bent in obeisance. Among them had Jelekha and her companion taken their stand behind a marble pillar.
"Thou hast fair attendants waiting on thee, mother," said Prince Selim at last, "and their song delights me. It was good of thee, mother, to entertain me thus on the eve of my departure, and I will think of thee when I am far away in camp."
"Prince," said the doting mother, "thou art ever my joy and my pride, and it rejoices me to see thee and to entertain thee. Thy father is the greatest monarch on earth, and the best. Follow in his footsteps, my son, and remember thy Rajput mother and be generous to thy Hindu subjects."
But the mother's words fell heedless on the Prince, already sleepy with wine. Pampered in luxury from his youth, the Prince had inherited none of the virtues of Akbar, and the wise men of the Court had sad misgivings about the fate of the Empire after the Empire-builder had passed away. To-night the Prince had come on a visit to his mother, not to receive her blessings and to enjoy the entertainment she had provided, but in quest of a lovely pair of eyes which had enthralled his soul.
"It is midnight, mother, and the roses on the fair cheeks of the dancers are pale with toil. Give them this purse and let them retire."
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