It was now a not unpleasant scene that the captives looked upon. The day was hot, gay with sunshine and the chatter of birds, sweet with the perfume of the jessamine vines, which were still covered with flowers. The slave-house faced the angle of the palace formed by the juncture of the central building and the south wing. Directly opposite them was a long, wooden-pillared arcade called the veranda, running the length of the wing. It was covered with flowering vines, and furnished like a great room, with cushions and stands and hangings in place of more customary frescoes. In the end that faced the central courtyard, invisible from without, was a temple room, the priests of which seemed to spend the greater part of their lives lounging on mats in the fragrant veranda. In this same side of the palace lodged Manava’s suite and Purán’s; and at the end of all was a wooden barracks, where the soldiers were now just waking from the sleep induced by last night’s festivity. A group of these hung about the well, which stood between the house of slaves and their domicile, waiting their turn for water. There was a general splashing and shouting, little laughter, but also no swearing, for the Hindoo is always clean-mouthed. From their vantage-point, Ahmed and Fidá, observing this life, found themselves entertained; for all the human nature of the palace found vent here. The two captives lingered over their meal, talking generally; and presently Fidá remarked on the number of slaves who had been passing and repassing near them. Ahmed answered him at once: “There are more than three hundred employed here—including eunuchs, who do not sleep in this house. I have been made a sweeper. This morning the slave-master, Kanava, roused me at dawn, gave me a broom of dried kusa grass and sent me, with nine others, to sweep the corridors of the north wing.” “Then thou hast had little enough sleep. Go, therefore, lie down and rest while I sit here. By my life, I would I knew what my duties are to be. No one orders me about. I am given no instructions. I have not even seen this Kanava.” “Ah, dear lord, to think that thou must serve! He—Look. There is a stir opposite.” Two slaves had entered the veranda of the south wing, and went running down it, shouting, as they went, some unintelligible words. At the sound, men came pouring out of the interior rooms, and turned in the direction of the courtyard, whither, in a moment or two, there moved a long procession of priests, soldiers, and petty officials. The last of these had not yet disappeared when every rear doorway and opening in the main building near by began to let forth slaves, who came toward their particular house in a straggling group of almost two hundred. “It is a big sacrifice,” observed Fidá, who was familiar enough with Indian customs to know that no Sudra can participate in the service of the gods.