Hussan Askuri, who had stepped forward to gaze at the King, began to mutter prayers. "'Tis that cooling draught of Ahsan-Oolah's stands in the way," he gasped, his hands and face working as if he were in deadly conflict with an unseen foe. "No carnal remedy--Ah! God be praised! I see, I see! The eye of faith opens--_Hai!_ venomous beast, I have you!" With these words he rushed to the King's couch, and, scattering its cushions, held up at arm's length a lizard. Held by the tail, it seemed in semi-darkness to writhe and wriggle. "_Ouée! Umma!_" yelled the Great Moghul, shrinking to nothing in his seat, and using after his wont the woman's cry--sure sign of his habits. "Fear not!" cried the priest. "The mutterings are stilled, the sweats dried! And thus will I deal also with those who sent it." He flung his captive on the ground and stamped it under foot. "Was it--was it a bis-cobra, think you?" faltered the King. He had hold of Zeenut Maihl's hand like a frightened child. The priest shook his head. "It was no carnal creature," he said in a hollow, chanting voice. "It was an emissary of evil made helpless by prayer. Give Heaven the praise." Bahâdur Shâh began on his creed promptly, but the priest frowned. "Through his servant," he went on. "For day and night, night and day, I pray for the King. And I see visions, I dream dreams. Last night, while my lord muttered of enemies, Hussan Askuri saw a flood coming from the West, and on its topmost wave, upon a raft of faithful swords, as on a throne, sate----" "With due respect," came voices from the curtained door. "The disciples await initiation in the Hall of Audience." Hussan Askuri and the Queen exchanged looks. The interruption was unwelcome, though strangely germane to the subject. "I will hear thee finish the dream afterward," fussed the King, rising in a bustle; for he prized his saintship next to his poetry. "I must not keep my pupils from grace. Hast the kerchiefs ready, Zeenut?" There was something almost touching in the confidence of his appeal to her. It was that of a child to its mother, certain of what it demanded. "All things are ready," she replied tartly, with a meaning and vexed look at the miracle-monger; for they had meant to finish the dream before the initiation. "A goodly choice," said the royal saint, as he looked over the tiny silk squares, each embroidered with a text from the _Koran_, which she took out of a basket. "But I need many, _Pir_-sahib. Folk come fast, of late, to have the way of virtue pointed by this poor hand. And thou hast more in the basket, I see, Zeenut, ready against----" "They are but begun," put in the Queen, hastily covering the basket. "Nor will they, likely, be needed, since the leave season passes, and 'tis the soldiers who come most to be disciples to the defender of their faith."