1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

184
A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
A GENTLE kick, rather a stirring with a foot, awoke her.
“What are you sleeping here for, Gul Begum, and what’s the matter?
You’ve been crying.” It was Gulsum who spoke.
“Crying? Why should I cry?” the half-unconscious girl answered
thoughtlessly, not knowing that denial was worse than useless, for no
looking-glass had revealed the piteous condition of her whole face, a nd
she was still sleepy to be conscious of the discomfort caused by the
swelling.
“Don’t tell me you’ve not been cr ying. I have eyes,” Gulsum retorted
viciously. “You must have been cr ying for hours, and then have fallen
asleep. It’s past mid-day, and you’ve had no food.”
“Nam-e-Khuda! What have I been thinking of?” Gul Begum said,
springing to her feet.
“Your troubles, I should think,” Gulsum retorted, as she turned away
with a sneer.
Gul Begum was now wide awake, and suddenly realised that she must
be on her guard if she would disarm the suspicion with which she at
once felt herself surrounded. She called her companion back.
“Gulsum, say nothing about my tears and troubles,” she pleaded, “I
ask, I pray you. I am but a slave who should have no feelings, of
course, but sometimes I am a fool and forget. Perhaps, like the rest,
you envy me and think me favoured because I wait on Agha, and
because I seem more trusted than you others are. Ah! You do not know
– I could tell you many things, but I try to keep silent, it is my duty. I
have never asked you for sympathy, you do not even know I need it.
Even now I only speak because you have seen m y sorrow. Do not make
a lau ghing-stock of me before the others. Keep my secret; do not let
them know I have been weeping.”
“What do you mean, Gul Begum? Explain yourself,” the little spy said
sympathetically, “tell me what are your troubles. Any one can see that
you are distressed, and yet you seem to us to have all that life can give.
Sometimes, I admit, I have envied you.” Her tones were kind and
earnest, as though she sought confidence that she might give comfort,
but she had some one more wily than herself to deal with.
“I cannot speak even to you, Gulsum, who are my companion in
slaver y,” Gul Begum said sadly; “you are only a girl, how can you
understand?
Besides, my secrets are not altogether my own, they are my master’s,
and he bears a good name. I must not cast a slur on it.”