Adventure Magazine Cover — page 124: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a c = 4 A 4 af = a2 ght AY EY tee A 9 WO Sie Da MORE Gere is eet him down with an arrow, if you can, from the wall. If not, he goes free.” He waved his hand and the fat man galloped off like a frightened elephant. I, also, made speed to the wall- I would have been well content to cleat a shaft in his haunches. But when I gained the battlement he was far below me. He had rolled from the winding road down the slope of the cliff. His bones must have been well shaken; still, he saved his life. So it happened that when I reached the spot under the trees again, all were gone but the soldier, who was taking a drink from the jar. I upbraided him well, for I had remembered the jar and was still thirsty. He said the girl had fallen to weeping and Sir Weyand had softened to her tears ~ when she cried that it would be her death to send her back to Jani Beg. The ferang had offered her a room in his residence. The horse and sword he had presented to Shirzad Mir who had taken them readily, saying that he would ride the one and cut off Jani Beg’s head with the other. But I was not content, knowing it was not wonted that a woman of the Rajputs should consent to be a slave. I dismissed the man. There was still some wine in the jar and no one was looking. SO THE girl of the Rajputs came to Khanjut. But T knew that any gift from Jani Beg was not meant for our happiness. I sent the soldier who had drunk from my jar of wine—Bihor Jan, a long-legged Af- ghan with nimble wits and a quick ear— to Sir Weyand to serve as a guard for the woman. Thus Bihor Jan would tell me what she did. A day passed and then another. Then I sought out Bihor Jan, who was squatting on the stone of the entrance hall of the castle. I asked him what had passed be- tween the woman and Sir Weyand. “Eh!” The Afghan spat and looked about him. “The ferang has seen her but once. It was when she carried his curry and wine from the kitchen to his room.” “What did Sir Weyand?” “The ferang? What you or I would ate done, Abdul Dost. He ate of the ood. ; Adventure * “And the woman?” “She said in a soft voice, so I could. scarce hear, although the door was open, | that she was his slave. She asked why he | turned his face from her service.” “What said he?” “He became red and said that in his country they had no slaves. He did not wish her to wait upon him.” That was well, so far. But before long the Afghan came to my room—an alcove opening from that of Shirzad Mir—and greeted me. I saw from his dark face that he had news on his stomach and in- vited him to kneel and eat, as I was doing. This he did readily, scooping up in his dirty fingers some choice sugared fruit that I had selected for myself. “This day,” he’ grunted between mouth- fuls, “Krishna Taya seated herself by the embrasure of the ferang’s room and waited for his arrival. When he came she salaamed and cried that her heart was troubled with loneliness.” He took up the bowl of jelly for which I had been about to reach. Now that it was too late, I pretended that I did not want the jelly. “She was lonely with desire for her own country. She asked the ferang if he would help her to get back to Rajputana. Then he questioned her concerning the Rajputs and their alliance with the Mogul. I could not hear what they said after that, though I sat with my back to the door. But the name of ee Beg was spoken.” From this time forth I sometimes saw Sir Weyand walking about the garden with © the woman. They talked much, for she was trying to teach him the language. of the Rajputs and he was anxious to learn. How is a man to scent danger in the per- fume of a woman’s robes or the quick glance of dark eyes? Once, when they had been sitting under the bare pomegranates, I watched her walk back to the castle. She carried her- self proudly, for all she was a slave. “Eh, Sir Weyand,” I said curiously, “she is fair. Jani Beg sent you a princely gift.” “Nay, I know not what to do with her, Abdul Dost,” he said quickly. “Jani Beg ~ will not take her back, nor will her own people, now that she is under the cloud of dishonor.” “Why not sell her? It youl not be hard to find a woe ¥