having embezzled twenty thousand gold coins, which he had spent upon a nautch girl from the south. The Armenian had given the reply discourteous by producing three witnesses who swore upon the Koran that the shoe pressed on the other foot, that it was Tagi Khan who had stolen the money and imported the nautch from Kashmere, and that the latter had merely asked the Armenian for protection because the other, in a drunken fit, had threatened to split her pretty little nose with a dagger. At once the palace had divided into camps. Lies and calumnies had run like powder under spark. The outer courtyard had witnessed a murderous encounter with bucklers and naked blades between the twin brothers, who were respectively governors of the eastern and the western marches. The princess, not knowing if she should believe the party of Tagi Khan or that of Gulabian, was being caught between the upper and nether millstone, and, finally, a few days earlier, Koom Khan, the commander-in-chief, had approached her with the arrogant suggestion that, since she seemed not strong enough to rule, she should appoint him Firman Firma—Decreer of Decrees—regent, in other words.
But her pride had rebelled. The ancient Gengizkhani blood had screamed in her veins. Cutting insults ringing in his ears, she had sent Koom Khan from her presence—and to-day, in all that motley assembly of courtiers, there was not one whom she dared trust.
“Heavenborn!” the Babu commenced again.
She bit her lip. She blushed.
