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" to me, Abul Fazel, some of the sweet lays of thy gifted and lamented brother to-night, for I am tired with the work of the day, and I need something to soothe me to rest."

It was nearly midnight, and Akbar was seated with two friends in a marble room in the palace which overlooked the Jumna. The moonlight streamed through the delicate trellis-work of the marble windows, the murmur of the river was heard below, and the air was laden with perfume. There were cushioned seats in the room, lining the marble walls and pillars inlaid with coloured stones of pretty designs. Akbar had partaken of a sparing evening meal with his two guests, and was spending an hour in quiet conversation before retiring to rest.

Akbar's two companions were his faithful friend and adviser, Abul Fazel, and the rival historian and devout Musalman, Badaoni. It was a high honour to be invited to this inner room in the palace to which few even of the trusted grandees of the Empire were ever admitted. The ever-regretted Bir Bal had often sat here, willing away the cares of the Emperor by his witty sayings, and the Troubadour Prince, Prithwi Raj, had often sung his Rajput ballads in this room. Christian priests, Moslem Mullas, and Hindu Pandits, too, had occasionally discussed their articles of faith before the monarch in this inner hall, till the night waned and the red light of dawn stole through its marble windows. But to-night he wanted rest,