“My lord’s _topi_,” said Ismail Bakhsh, stepping up with a salute, and offering Stratford his helmet, which he had found caught in a crevice of the rocks. Stratford put it on, and, carrying his riding-whip carelessly in his hand, advanced to meet the strangers, who had remained motionless on their horses since Dick had first caught sight of them. “Peace be upon you!” he said as he approached them. “And upon thee be peace!” responded an old man, who appeared to be the leader of the party. “My lord is one of the envoys of the Queen of England to our lord the King?” “I am temporarily in command of the Mission, owing to the illness of the Envoy,” answered Stratford. “To whom have I the honour of speaking?” “My lord’s servant is Abd-ur-Rahim, Governor of the fortress of Bir-ul-Malik for our lord the King.” “Not for the late Grand Vizier, Fath-ud-Din, then?” “How should that be so? My lord knows that another now holds the King’s signet. Surely his servant only retains his office until he be confirmed or superseded in it by orders from Kubbet-ul-Haj. But the only orders he has received as yet have concerned the Mission of the English Queen, and they have commanded him to do all in his power to help it, and to facilitate its return journey.” “Then the orders have arrived in the nick of time,” said Stratford. “A little assistance will be of great use to us in our present circumstances. Our baggage-animals were alarmed by the storm, and are scattered about, and if your soldiers would help us to get them together again it would be a great boon. But will you not dismount and eat and drink with us, Abd-ur-Rahim? We have but little to offer, yet it is our delight to share it with a friend.” “Nay, but my lord and all his company shall eat and drink with me,” was the hospitable reply. “In Bir-ul-Malik there is room for the whole number, and they shall rest in the fortress this night in peace, and refresh their souls before starting again on their journey. I will send out my young men to seek for the camels of my lord, and in the morning his caravan shall be as great as when he left Kubbet-ul-Haj a week ago.” “Yet let Abd-ur-Rahim first honour our poor tents by condescending to eat bread and drink water with us,” urged Stratford. Again the old man shook his head. “Not so, my lord. Surely when my watchmen cried from the towers that there was a great company out on the plain, fleeing towards the rocks for shelter from the storm, and I knew that they must be the servants of the English Queen, I vowed a vow that I would neither eat bread nor drink water until I had brought the Englishmen into my house, that they might rest themselves and be refreshed at my table, and afterwards depart in peace.” “And how did you know that we were the servants of the English Queen?” asked Stratford, endeavouring, with considerable success, to exhibit in his tones no trace of suspicion, but merely a natural desire for information.