Although she would not for the world have allowed either Rahah or Khadija to discover the fact, Georgia was conscious of a distinct sense of shrinking as she rode under the gateway of Bir-ul-Malikat, after seeing Abd-ur-Rahim start on his homeward journey with young Yakub among his followers. The place was less of a fortress, and more of a country seat, than Bir-ul-Malik; but the high walls which surrounded the grounds of the great house, and about which a number of smaller buildings and huts were clustered, were quite capable of defence, and the assemblage of men visible about the gate and courtyard showed that a respectable garrison could be collected in time of need. Still, the fortifications were not of such a character as to be able to stand a protracted siege, and Georgia guessed what was indeed the truth, that while they were useful to withstand the sudden raid of any marauding border tribe, who might be supposed to be swayed by the hope of plunder more strongly than by superstitious fear, the real bulwark of the place was Khadija’s reputation as a sorceress. Here she was supreme, and her fame protected alike her precious charge and the servants and labourers who formed the little colony. When she had once for all secured the transference of Jahan Beg’s rights in Bir-ul-Malik to her master, by diverting the water-supply, she had removed from her path the only enemy on whom the universal belief in her supernatural power for ill had no effect, and who had been able to keep an eye on her doings. Every man and woman in the place was bound to Khadija’s service both by interest and by fear, and Georgia felt that it was indeed well that Abd-ur-Rahim had insisted on receiving her son as a hostage before he would intrust his prisoners to her tender mercies.