"Are we secure against observation here?" she continued, "for I have much to say to thee, and that quickly." "Not here," I replied; "I will go on to our tents yonder, and you can follow me; I will wait for you near them." The old woman hobbled up to me as I stood under a mango tree, secure from observation. Quite out of breath, she sat down: when she had recovered herself, she untied a corner of the cloth about her person, and presented me with a small ring. "This," said she, "is from her you know of: and for the love of Alla, my soul! do you exert yourself for her: she is dying in this place, and is subject to all the torments the caprice of that unblest Nuwab can think of. She is one day in favour and loaded with kindnesses, another, in a fit of jealousy or rage, he deprives her of every comfort, shuts her up in a lonely room, and will not even allow me to go to her. You, my son, are young and brave; you will not suffer her to continue in this state, she who is the pearl of Hyderabad, who has found favour in the sight of princes and nobles. For the sake of Alla, exert yourself, and she is free, and will accompany you to the end of the world. She has seen you, and your beauty has entered into her soul and is consuming her liver; and between this and her former miseries, she is to-day in a state of madness, so that even I cannot pacify her." "I am ready, mother," said I: "'tis true I have never been blessed with hearing a word from her, save in her songs: but I can understand them; and there was one she sang which has been ringing in my ears ever since I heard it. Say, had it any reference to me and herself?" "You have guessed well," she replied: "I told her to sing it, in the chance of its being understood, and blessed be Alla it was not in vain: but the time is passing fast, my son, and what can be done?" "Nay," said I, "that I wish to hear from yourself, for I know not how to proceed; neither do I know this town, nor the house where she lives, so what can I advise? I am helpless in this matter, yet willing to the utmost." "Listen then," said the old woman; "I will describe the place, and you must come after me and see it from the outside, that you may know it in the night. The place she is now in, and where she will most likely sleep to-night, is a small tiled house, at the corner of the wall of the zenana toward the street. There are two windows, some distance from the ground, yet not so high but that she might get out, if any one helped her on the outside. There is no other way of her escaping; for it would be impossible for her to get through the zenana, and afterwards through the open courts, which are full of soldiers. Say, will you dare the adventure; or be a coward, a namurd, who would not risk a drop of blood for a woman, and one so fair as she is?" "I am no coward, I believe," said I, "though I have no deeds of arms to boast of. I accept the risk, and I pray Alla to defend us! Are there soldiers near the place?"