Page:Old Deccan Days.djvu/153

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PANCH-PHUL RANEE.
111

At last (after four years of unsuccessful search), when there seemed no hope of ever learning what had become of him, Panch-Phul Ranee's son came to see her, and said, 'Mother, I have sent into all lands seeking my father, but can hear no news of him. If there were only the slightest clue as to the direction in which he went, there would be still some chance of tracing him, but that I fear cannot be got. Do you not remember his having said anything of the way which he intended to go when he left you?' She answered, 'When your father went away his words to me were, "I will go to fetch food for us both, and fire to cook it with, and inquire what this country is, and seek out a place of shelter for you. Do not be afraid, I shall soon return." That was all he said, and then he went away, and I never saw him more.'

'In what direction did he go from the foot of the garden?' asked the Prince. 'He went,' answered the Panch-Phul Ranee, 'towards that little village of conjurors close by. I thought he was intending to ask some of them to give us food. But had he done so, he would certainly have returned in a very short time.

'Do you think you should know my father, mother darling, if you were to see him again?' asked the Prince.—'Yes,' answered she, 'I should know him again.'—'What!' he said, 'even though eighteen years have gone by since you saw him last? Even though age, and sickness, and want, had done their utmost to change him?'—'Yes,' she replied; 'his every feature is so impressed on my heart, that I should know him again anywhere, or in any disguise.'

'Then let us,' he said, 'send for all those people in the direction of whose houses he went away. May be they have detained him among them to this day. It is but a chance, but we can hope for nothing more certain.'

So the Panch-Phul Ranee and her son sent down orders to the conjurors' village that every one of the whole band should come up to the palace that afternoon—not a soul was to stay behind. And the dancers were to dance, and the conjurors to play all their tricks, for the amusement of the palace inmates.

The people came. The nautch-girls began to dance—running, jumping, and flying here, there, and everywhere, some up, some down, some round and round. The conjurors conjured; and all began in different ways to amuse the company. Among the rest was one wild, ragged-looking man, whose business was to beat the drum. No sooner did the Panch-Phul Ranee set eyes on him, than she said to her son, 'Boy, that is your father!'—'What