1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

190
A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
A light hurried footstep on the pavement by the porter’s lodge roused
her. The sound came quickly in her direction, and she stood up
prepared to receive her master.
“Gul Begum, I am in danger,” he whispered the moment that he had
entered the room. “The police have got hold of a paper that was given
to me in the strictest confidence by the Ameer. A paper from – ah,
well, never mind what is in it, but they declare it has been secreted
from the British Agency by one of their spies, and that I must have
sold it to the English – betrayed my master – turned traitor! But I have
the paper here, the one he gave me. I saw it only yesterday, I am
certain of it – I had it in m y hand.”
The Chief Secretary was ashy pale, his hands trembled, and somehow
he looked old, and positively as though he had shrunk – as though his
clothes had been made for another and a stouter man. He went towards
the curious, square, four-legged trunk – the yachdan in which his
important papers were kept under lock and seal – and tried to open it,
but somehow neither fastening seemed to obey his eager fingers. “Give
me a knife,” he said, “that I may cut the string. Quick, girl, are you
asleep? Cut the seal off, and help me to unfasten that box.”
Gul Begum advanced, pale, but firm and quiet. She had fetched a
second key from the shelf under the Koran, and without a word had
turned it in the lock and raised the lid.
“Give me the bundle on the top,” her master said excitedly, “yes, that
one, the one in the red handkerchief.” The colour was coming back into
his face a little. “Untie it,” he said, and then he smiled. Yes, there was
the paper safe enough, just where he had left it the night before. But
whence, then, came that other paper that he had seen in his master’s
hand? There had been but one original letter, that sent by a Border
Chief to the Ameer making certain proposals. Who had made that copy?
It was a most skilful forger y, cleverly designed to overthrow him and
to bring him to the gallows. His enemies were indeed active and had
laid their plans well, but he had the original quite safely. He would go
straight to the Ameer with it; he would scatter his enemies.
His whole appearance changed, as surely only that of Easterns can do
in so short of time. His carriage became erect again as usual, his colour
returned, his ver y clothes sat differently on him.
“Just give me a brush down,” he said to the girl who stood beside him,
more composedly, she thought, than she had heard him speak for
weeks. “Now we will see who is for the gallows. We shall see whether
God protects His own servant who waits on Him continually, or
whether these carrion crows, these pariahs, are to triumph over me and
overthrow me. Hark! there is the Muezzin. It is prayer time, Gul
Begum. Bring me some water and spread my prayer carpet. In God’s
strength I shall overcome all my difficulties.”