1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

28
A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
GHULAM HOSSAIN had left home with a light heart, full of ambitious
designs, full of hope. He returned dejected, hopeless.
Gul Begum saw something of all this in the far distance. She guessed it
by the wa y he sat his horse; she knew it when he greeted her two miles
from their village, where she had gone to meet him.
He seemed pleased to see her, and she knew that her little attention in
meeting him had not been thrown awa y upon him, though he said not a
word upon the subject, and took not the faintest pains to conceal his
low spirits from her. There was, however, no trace of disappointment
in his manner when he rode up to The Tower, where he dismounted . On
the contrar y, he greeted ever y one with effusion, and was particularly
gracious when he unloaded the pack pony.
“Here is a Khilat (Coat of honour, official present) for you,” he said to
his cousin, unfastening a parcel containing a coat of purple cloth edged
with gold braid; “the Ameer gave it to me, but I told him to would hand
it on to you as chief of this sub-division of our sultanate; you have a
better right to it than I.”
“It’s a fine garment,” Wali Mohamed said, grinning. “I wonder how I
shall look in it.”
“Put it on him, Gul Begum,” his cousin replied, “and let us see.”
“Ah, none of your tricks with me,” the little man said, almost blushing
at the idea of putting on anything so smart, “such robes are not for
me.”
But Gul Begum thought it a great jo ke, and insisted, and he, not
altogether displeased, allowed himself to be dressed up , though, truth
to tell, he looked, when he had got it on, more grotesque than ever, not
unlike a monkey on a barrel-organ the most marvellous of human
inventions, never even having heard of such a thing, so that simile did
not strike her, but something else must have, for she burst into such
screams of laughter that Shereen and her mother, and all the rest of the
Vizier’s family, came rushing to see what was the cause of such
merriment.
Now that it was once on, her uncle was in no wise disposed to lay his
newly acquired property down, but strutted about in it, to the immense
admiration of all but Gul Begum and her father, who had exchanged
mischievous glances, and still continued laughing.
“You’ve got the credit of being a wise man,” Ghulam Hossain’s wife
said, addressing her husband, when they had gone indoors, “but I think
you must keep your wisdom for the chiefs councils.”
“How so?” he asked good-humouredly.
“What advantage do you expect to get from Wali Mohamed by giving
him that coat? Many’s the thing I’ve seen go from this house to that,