THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA
leaned on a marble pillar, and his cheeks were white as the white marble.
It was then that Mihr-un-Nissa showed something of that courage which enabled her, years after, to sustain a tottering Empire.
"Be a man, Prince," said the woman, with a woman's scorn, "and prove yourself a Prince of the Blood before you seek to be an Emperor! These inner halls are for us women, not for the concealment of a warrior. Walk out as bravely as you entered, meet your father face to face, and tell him that you came to pay a parting visit to a woman whom once you had courted. Your father is frank and generous by nature, and will forgive your folly. What, silent still? You spoke glibly enough, Prince, of your courage and determination a moment ago! But stay, if you dare not face your father, I, a woman, will meet him, and will obtain his pardon for a friend I shall meet no more in life!"
Selim felt ashamed at having displayed his weakness before this woman who knew no fear. Her words stung him to the quick, and he answered her with his usual boast.
"A warrior has no fear, Mihr-un-Nissa, and if I was unmanned for a moment it was at the thought of leaving you alone in this palace after our plot had been discovered. I can be in the midst of my horsemen yet, for my boatmen are ready. And the Imperial troops will quail before a Prince whose feats are not unknown in the annals of Hindostan. But shall I—can I—leave you thus alone in the hour of danger?"
"Rashness is not courage, Prince, and you will
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