Part 32 (1/2)
”He is like thee,” she said, a tremor in her calm voice.
”G.o.d forbid!” interrupted the father hastily. ”G.o.d send he be like thee--the best woman in the world--the best--the very best!”
Never were such rejoicings. The paternal aunts, who of late months had been let into the secret, were almost crazy with delight. And wherefore not? When a King has lived to be six-and-twenty without a son; when despite three marriages only two children have been borne to him, miserable little daughters, one dead, one but a few months old, it is time to be festive over a proper birth. And was there ever such a baby? So tall, so strong, so handsome and so altogether satisfactory. No wonder his father, who ever had a pretty wit, called him Humayon. That might portend the ph[oe]nix, the bird of good omen, besides half-a-dozen other side meanings, each charming in its way.
But Babar, leaning over the happy mother said softly, ”He shall be my protection in the future. Lo! Maham! I have put myself outside myself as they say in the child-stories of our youth. Who was't who put his life safe in a gold box? Well! my life is hid in my son's. So there, my wife, have a care of us both--for, verily in some ways, Maham, I need looking after like an infant.”
The feast of nativity was a very splendid feast. Everyone who was Big, and everyone who was Not, brought their offerings. Bags on bags of silver money were piled up, until everyone was forced to confess that never before had they seen so much white money in one place.
And the entertainments! There were fireworks and marionettes and conjuring tricks. In fact a perfect fair for a whole week in the Great Four-square-Garden on the hill.
But the greatest amus.e.m.e.nt of all was one to which the Palace Ladies invited a select audience.
It was organised by the Fair Princess who had a genius that way, and its _piece de resistance_ was a huge roc-egg brought in by fairies, which, cracking in most realistic fas.h.i.+on, disclosed the most magnificent ph[oe]nix that ever was seen, with feathers of every hue and plumes galore (it had, of course, a gold crown on its head) which monstrous bird being removed, like a tea cosy, appeared no less a personage than
”The Heir Apparent”
”Humayon.”
Endless was the laughter, the tears, the embracings, the gratulations.
But that evening as Maham and Babar sat hand in hand, looking at the sleeping infant, its mother cried suddenly--
”'Tis Ma'asuma's child also, thou must remember, husband. 'Twas for her sake I married thee.”
”Not for mine own, one little bit, Maham?” he queried a trifle sadly.
”Well! if that be so, I must be lover instead of husband for a time.”
CHAPTER VIII
”Like a wide-spreading tree whose roots en-thread Earth's bosom, gaining Life from out a grave, So stood he stalwart while each weary head Sought for the shelter that his courage gave.”
”Look you! what a young man sees in a mirror, an old one can see in a burnt brick,” quoth old Kasim crossly to s.h.i.+ram-Taghai. ”Did I not tell the Most-Clement that benevolence such as his, is doubtless fit for Paradise where man shall have shed his sins; but 'tis in this world, pure incentive to wickedness. To leave Prince Abdul-Risak in Kabul where, seeing he is the late King's only son, he hath some right to claim power, was foolish; not to believe when old servants as you and I, s.h.i.+ram, tell him intrigue is going on, is well nigh criminal.
Yet G.o.d knows it all comes from kindness of heart! In truth, old friend, to be king one should be as Timur, the Earth Trembler, who never spared man, woman or child who stood in his way.”
”Aye,” a.s.sented s.h.i.+rim-Beg whose beard by this time, after long years of faithful service, required a purple dye to pa.s.s muster. ”And yet, to my mind, the King is most hard on the Moghul soldiery. What means life to a Moghul without rapine and plunder? Bread without salt, friend! Bread without salt! Yet the Most-Clement is so inclement that thou hadst trouble to save the lives of those three last week.”
Kasim gloomed. ”Aye! and I know not now if I were not wrong, since those same are the head and front of this present offending of which--G.o.d save his innocence--the King takes no heed, having it forsooth, that my surmisings art not ent.i.tled to credit! Look you! he is so set on making his men wheel in step and to time, that he hath forgotten how quick honest rebellion can step when it chooses.”
It was true. Babar, profoundly happy in the birth of his son, profoundly absorbed in the new t.i.tle of Emperor which he had, in consequence, bestowed upon himself, was impervious to suspicion, and busy expending his exuberant vitality in marshalling and man[oe]uvering his troops. He was out all day in camp; thus, at once, being more ignorant than usual of what was happening in the city, and having less time to listen to cautions; the latter being, in truth, the last words suitable to his feelings. He could not, for the life of him, see a single cloud ahead, and being absolutely full of good intentions towards his world, refused to believe that the world could have any ill intentions towards him.
But his eyes were opened one night, and that rudely.
He took his evening meal as a rule in the Four-corner Garden on his way back to sleep in the Secluded-Palace. It was a charming place; the summer house all lit with coloured lamps, hung with beautiful draperies; and there were ever musicians, singers and dancers ready to amuse the King, who lingered late at times, especially on moonlit nights when the garden showed entrancingly beautiful.
But it was moonless and fairly early, when two friends arrived from the city in hot haste, full of the discovery of a plot to seize and a.s.sa.s.sinate His Imperial Majesty that very night.