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214 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR yesterday. I slept well last night, and am fresh, and even ready for a fight this morning. It really does seem laughable how easily I have got rid of all my troubles. There has been no fatigue, no difficult y, no danger. Was ever escape so planned? and now I come to think of it, I owe it to you, Gul Begum. You planned and arranged this scheme. I am not ungrateful, I shall remember you always. By-the-bye, what shall you do while I am in India?” The girl started. “What shall I do, Agha? What should I do? What I have always done. Do you no longer need me?” “Are you coming with me, then?” he asked, looking at her. “There are, you know, no slaves in India; the moment you get there you will be free. Don’t you know that? Those Kafirs have no slaves, the y think it a sin.” “Am I not free now?” she asked simply. “Here and there it seems to me that I am free. Do you not give me my freedom?” “Oh yes, I do, but how can I take a young girl of your position home with me to wait on me? It is out of all custom in India, even more so than in this half savage country.” “I do not know,” she said, “you must know best. You have a mother; can I not live with her, and wait on you?” “You have a father,” he said quietly. The girl put her hand on her heart. “Yes, I have a father,” she said softly. “How could I forget? He needs me, I will go to him.” “I shall miss you, Gul Begum,” her companion continued earnestly. “I am not sure that I shall be able to manage without you, but I must try. My mother would not understand your position at first, if I took you with me. If I explain everything to her, and she agrees, you could come and join me later, when I have prepared the wa y for you.” The girl drew a long breath, almost as though something were stifling her. “Whatever you choose, that I will do, Agha. It is for you to decide.” But a new and unexpected trouble seemed to have arisen. The light died out of her e yes. What was the use of freedom? He noticed her too evident pain, and would have soothed her. “It will only be for a time, Gul Begum. You will not be parted from me long,” he said gently. For ever, for ever, for ever, kept ringing in her ears, but she did not answer, only turned round in her saddle as though to review the past that was all gone – to look at the road along which Fate had led her. She knew nothing of the future, nor where it was to take her, but in the
215 A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR distance behind her la y the fertile plain, along which she had ridden – a plain now lit with sunshine, though it had been dark enough as she had ridden along it. Then, beyond that, rose the hills that now divided her from Kabul – from the past on which she was alread y beginning to look so tenderly. About midway between her and them, there were some specks distinctly visible upon the plain; they might have been anything, camels or ponies grazing, perhaps, but were far too distant to make out. She had not noticed them as she had passed along, she hard ly noticed them now; she was thinking of something else, of the great blank that was coming upon her, of the great trouble she had brought upon herself – for she knew him well – without her her master would not have moved a step, he would have been in Kabul still, and there would have been no talk of separation. She half wished she could recall what she had done. Those had been happ y days – why had she herself, with her own hands, cut the cords that bound her to them? The sun was getting hot, she felt thirsty. “Agha, let us stop and rest at the first stream,” she said. “We are still three miles from the next village, let us rest for half an hour.” “Tired?” he asked. “Why, we have gone no distance yet.” “No, Agha, no distance; but now that the great effort is over, and we are safe, I feel I would like to rest only a minute, and bathe my head and feet. I am not accustomed to these boots, so they seem heavy.” He looked at her, she was certainly paler than she had been in the early morning, before the sun had risen so high. “Yes, why not?” he said, “we’ll look out for the first spring.” And when the y found one she was like a child in her delight, and sat on the bank dangling her feet in the clear mountain stream. “Gul Begum,” the official said, suddenly, catching hold of her arm, “look, what is that upon the plain? Surely not cattle?” The girl sprang to her feet in an instant. “To horses, Agha, to horses! they are horsemen – they are Swars. We are followed, we must get to the hills, to the caves – we must fly for our lives.” In three minutes the y were in their saddles, and in full flight. “I wonder if they have seen us? If not we have nothing to fear. When we get to that corner there, pointing to a turn in the valle y up which they were riding, we will double like a hare when it is chased; that will put them off the scent. None but a <strong>Hazara</strong> would think of that dodge, because none else would know that down there to the right lies one of those caves villages I told you of. An Afghan could only suppose we would fly straight on to India.”
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