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 with her widowed mother under the protection of Akil ud Dowlah, her grandfather, and was the darling of his heart. The old man was as proud a Mohammedan as ever lived ; he occupied the high position of bukshi or paymaster to the English subsidiary force.

'Where has the lady seen me ? ' demanded Kirkpatrick, remembering the jealous guardianship of the harem.

The old woman cast a swift glance round the hall with its screens and curtains.

'Huzoor ! Her eyes they are like the stars of heaven first fell upon you in the house of Akil ud Dowlah, the bukshi, as you sat with him in his durbar hall. The hall is like this, and the ladies of the harem are able to see the guests. You talked for more than an hour, and during that time my mistress watched your every movement, never once taking her eyes from your handsome form.'

Kirkpatrick thought of the rigid old Mussulman with all his family pride and traditions, and pictured the rage which would fill his heart could he but hear the story.

'Why have you come? To ask me to leave the country and save a foolish girl from her folly ? '

'Ah, no, Huzoor ! She, to whom you are the very sun of her existence, would die of grief if you left Hyderabad.'

'Then what is it you want ? ' he queried, wondering if the young Begum's folly went so far as to desire a clandestine meeting, a course of action fraught with the most disastrous consequences to the interests of the English cause, were it to be discovered.

The lady had no intention of descending to any common intrigue ; her desire soared to higher things.

'She entreats you to ask the bukshi for her hand in marriage.'

'Impossible ! ' cried Kirkpatrick, aghast at the wildness of the proposal.