When he was again summoned to the Rajah’s side, it was in the great audience hall, where Rai-Khizar-Pál officiated in his judicial state. The Mohammedan was not a little interested in the proceedings of the long morning; and his respect for the ability of his master increased not a little as he watched him settle, one after another, with ease, rapidity, and remarkable insight, the great number of quarrels and suits brought before him by his subjects. At the second hour after noon, however, the court rose, and those natives whose cases had not come up that day were told to return on the morrow; whereupon they got up, without comment, from where they had been sitting in rows around the wall, and departed to their various pursuits. The Rajah, accompanied by Manava, retired to eat his second meal, which Fidá served. When it was over, he stood waiting to be dismissed; for it was the time of day when Rai-Khizar usually slept and the slave was accustomed to enjoy a period of idleness. Left alone with the captive, however, the King turned to him, and, after a few moments’ consideration, said gravely: “Asra, I have said that I would not ransom thee; liking too well thy presence and thy service. Yet this I have in my heart reconsidered until, though I shall grieve to let thee go, I am willing to send envoys to thy uncle to treat for thy ransom. Doth this rejoice thee?” Fidá fell upon one knee and pressed the Rajah’s hand to his head. “Thanks to my lord!” said he, in a voice muffled with emotion. “Ah, thou’lt be glad to be in thine own estate again! I send the envoys forth to-day. It should be not more than three weeks ere thy freedom cometh. On my life, I shall be loath to part with thee. But now I can keep thee no longer in this servant’s garb. Thou shalt be habited like a prince again, and wait here, my guest, till thou goest forth.” “Let the King pardon my boldness. What is the ransom thou wouldst free me for?” “Far less than thou art worth, my Asra: five thousand pieces of copper, jewels to the worth of an hundred cows, and the oath that the Rajah of Mandu and the mighty Aybek of Delhi be henceforth as brothers.” Fidá had risen to his feet; but he stood with his head so bent that the Rajah could not see his face. “I have a favor to ask my lord,” he said, still in the muffled tone that could not be interpreted. “Speak.” “Will the Rajah permit that, till the time of my freedom, I may remain as I am now:—the cup-bearer of my lord?” “What! Art not a prince? Wouldst thou remain a slave?” “I asked a favor of my lord.”