THE BOY MINSTREL
"Except perhaps a young nurse sometimes, eh? They say one of the prettiest of them is missing in the palace, and Queen Jodh Bai will have to wait long before she finds her fair slave again."
"Methinks," replied Noren, with a forced smile, which scarcely concealed his alarm, "the great Queen may ask her friend, the gay Prince of Bikanir, to account for some of her missing slaves."
"Maybe, or may not be," replied the Prince, no less gratified by the praise of his amours than by the praise of his poetry, "but thou escapest not me by thy evasions. What about a young Tartar girl with the eyes of a houri and the figure of a tall cypress? Have I caught thee now, thou deep villain? Well mayest thou wince."
"I cry for mercy, Prince. But surely a stranger in Agra can scarcely be held accountable for every maiden of the palace, Tartar or Rajput, Persian or Hindustani, who may choose to stray beyond the walls."
"Little mercy doth he need who can carry off a damsel on his steed, riding forty miles on a dark night, even from the gates of Agra. Hast heard aught of that love-romance, my friend?"
A weird sound—a shriek or muffled laughter—was heard from outside the tent.
"What sound is that? Ho! Jamshid, Jamshid."
Jamshid came into the tent and bowed to his master.
"Didst hear any sound or voice? Didst see any one loitering outside the tent?"
"I have seen none, Master."
"Be on the watch then, and see that none comes near the tent. Tell Norendra Nath's guard to be
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