"Yes, Meah, this is indeed important," he said; "but no one must hear it but thyself or thy father. Listen," he continued, whispering; "that is from the old Gosai at Tooljapoor, about those letters the King has obtained. Those whom they concern are mentioned in feigned names, and it will puzzle me not a little to understand their meaning fully; but we have a clue in what occurred at the temple, and I will unravel it when we get home. Now my eyes are too weary. Stay, there may be something from Sivaji.... No," he continued, after he had looked at them one by one, "there are none from him, but several from Yessjee, who is his friend. No, they are too wary to write letters; but no doubt there is much intrigue afoot, Meah--much." "Enough," replied Fazil; "now go to sleep, Bulwunt, till daylight brings people from the house. I too will rest, if I can, after all this excitement, with your permission, Duffadar Sahib----" But the old man had lain down on the floor while the papers were being examined, and was fast asleep; so also were the men of the guard, except one sitting at the doorway as sentinel, the gurgle of whose hooka mingled with an occasional snore from a sleeper on the floor. Those about the kullal, who had been removed to a little distance, asked how he was to be disposed of. "Take him to his house," said Fazil, "and keep him there till he is wanted. Go with them, Rama," he continued to the man, "and be ready when I send for thee. I will answer to the Kótwal for the night's events." "That is all I wanted," he replied. "My lord is very kind and merciful." "Not yet. I have much to ask and much to hear. If thou canst speak the truth, well for thee; if not, beware!" CHAPTER XXVI. How slowly and wearily night passes when a sense of impending evil overpowers sleep, and renders every faculty sharply sensible to sounds and impressions otherwise of ordinary occurrence,--when a thousand vague phantasies flit before the imagination hardly more definite than the keenly-painful thoughts they awaken! How difficult thus to endure delay or uncertainty, and to account for causes of either, so as to gain consolation or assurance to one's self, far less to impart comfort to others whose fears and apprehensions are perhaps greater than our own. Thus heavily was hour after hour counted by Afzool Khan and his fair daughter in the apartment we have already described. The Khan busied himself, or seemed to do so, with a pile of Persian papers, on some of which, from time to time, he made notes: but it was easy for his daughter to see that his eye often followed vacantly the lines of the writing, and that his thoughts wandered far from the subjects before him.