THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA
Noren looked down on the deep Jumna rolling below, as if he would throw himself down to find death or escape. But Jelekha had been bred up in palace intrigues, and was quick-witted and composed. Her white, sinewy arms, strong as bands of steel, held the Prince like a vice, and she spoke with a sweet smile on her lips.
"Much honoured were my sister and my father's house, noble Prince, if she found favour in your royal eyes and a humble employment as a slave in your royal harem. But to-night a lovely lady awaits thy presence, and is anxious to bid farewell to a Prince whose image she will always cherish in her heart."
"Ha! thou hast spoken truly, my girl, and I must not keep my fair charmer waiting. One glance of that Fair Persian is worth all the fascinations of Tartary and of Hind."
The party hurried on, and soon reached their destination. A large and stately palace rose before them, surrounded by a garden of many rare and exotic plants. Fragrant white jasmines yielded a sweet perfume, and tapering junipers grew on vases. Water from the Jumna was conducted through the garden and round the palace, and the light inside was visible through marble trellis-work which served as windows.
Jelekha and her companion waited outside the door, and Prince Selim entered. Surrounded by her fair attendants sat a lady draped in velvet and gold, and beaming in her matchless loveliness under her veil of blue silk gauze. She was Mihr-un-Nissa, whose beauty had enthralled the son of Akbar.
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