Chapter 11: The Cashmere Gate.

Marian turned to the nawab, and told him they accepted his hospitality with much gratitude. He seemed delighted, and led the way to the veranda, where he insisted that they should seat themselves on the cane settees and chairs of native manufacture The porter approached and made a respectful salaam, though he must have been filled with wonder to see the two Inglese before him. Like his master, he would have been eager to betray them into the power of their enemies, had he suspected their presence in the garden. He and his master must have wondered how it was the couple escaped discovery.

Addressing Marian, the nawab asked,

“Ap ko kuchh khana chaiye?” (Do you desire any food?)

She declined with thanks, saying that they only wanted rest and shelter.

“Stay under my roof, Miss sahib, as long as my poor hospitality can be endured,” urged the nawab, with the effusiveness characteristic of his people.

The native, having recovered from his excessive fear, lit his hookah, offering none, however, to his infidel guest. He smoked a few minutes in silence, and then, addressing himself to Marian, asked her to be kind enough to tell how it was she and her escort were in such danger from the wicked mob. The young lady told the story in a few sentences.

When she had finished, their host, in his soft, pleasant voice, said that he had learned of the revolt at Meerut, and his heart was deeply pained. He saw that much sorrow and suffering must come, but he knew that in the end the English would subdue the rebels, who would be made to suffer for their evil deeds.

“Nor will the English fail to reward their friends,” was the diplomatic observation of the young lady; “our government is as quick to recognize a friend as to punish a foe.”

“That I have always known; therefore, come what may, I shall be true to the English.”

The nawab, having delivered himself of this fine sentiment, summoned one of the two servants who were standing in the further corner of the veranda, where until then they had shown no more life than a couple of stone images. As the man stepped promptly forward, his master said a few words in such a low voice, that the listening Marian could not catch a syllable. She afterward believed that she did hear what was said, but it was in some dialect unintelligible to her. She thought nothing of it, however, and the servant entered the house in his stealthy, gliding fashion.