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 The Prince frowned.

"If it doesn't, I will increase Virendra Singha's bloody torrent." His eyes flashed fire.

"I go then"—replied Osman. "I have done my duty. You will learn Katlu Khan's intention by some messenger."

A messenger came after a while. He was dressed like a soldier; he was of a rank above that of the foot-soldier. Ho had with him four armed foot-soldiers.

"What's your message?"—asked the Prince.

"You will have to change your quarters, Sir," said the man.

"I am ready, Sir, proceed," said the Prince and followed him.

A great festivity was come—the celebration of Katlu Khan's anniversary. Dancing and drinking, mirth and frolic, feasting and alms-giving filled the day. The night was even more jovial. It was just past sunset. The fort was a-blaze with light. Every creek and corner was filled with officers, soldiers, courtiers, servants, beggars, drunkards, actors, actresses, dancers, dancing-girls, musicians, jugglers, fruiterers, vendors of perfumes, betel sellers, vendors of various kinds of food, of various products of art, &c., &c. Wherever you went, you came upon illumination, music, fragrant waters, betels, flowers, jugglery and prostitutes. It was partly the same with the inner apartments.