humbly requested to know whether he should return the gold rupees, or might hope that his highness would make up the deficiency. At these words the khan again looked at him steadfastly with an angry eye and without uttering a syllable; but at length inquired whether he had brought along with him a certain pearl which he had formerly shown. Tavernier drew it forth from his bosom, and placed it in his hands. "Now," said the khan, "let us speak no more of the past. Tell me in one word the exact price of this pearl."—"Seven thousand rupees," replied the traveller, who, however, meant to have taken three thousand rather than break off the bargain. "If I give thee five thousand," returned the khan, "thou wilt be well repaid for thy pretended loss upon the gold rupees. Come to-morrow, and thou shalt receive the money. I wish thee to depart contented; and therefore thou shalt receive a dress of honour and a horse." Tavernier was content, and having entreated his highness to send him a useful beast, since he had far to travel, made the usual obeisance and took his leave.
Next day the kelât and the horse were sent. With the former, which was really handsome and valuable, our traveller was well satisfied; and the horse, which was decked with green velvet housings with silver fringe, likewise seemed to answer his expectations. When, however, he was brought into the court of the house, and a young Dutchman sprung upon his back to try his mettle, he began to rear, and plunge, and kick in so powerful a manner that he shook down the roof of a small shed which stood in the yard, and put the life of his rider in imminent jeopardy. Observing this, Tavernier commanded the animal to be returned to the prince; and when he went to the palace in order to express his thanks and take his leave, he related the whole circumstance, adding that he feared his highness had no desire that he should execute the commission
