Thereafter ensued a quiet period of nearly four weeks. The spring was advanced. The planting was over, and Mandu abloom. The sun’s rays grew daily hotter, though as yet there was little discomfort from heat. It was the time of year when all growing and living things love and mate; but for Ahalya and Fidá it was the autumn of love. Their days were filled with misgiving; for, as the inevitable end drew near, both came to suffer a great anxiety about the manner of that end. Nor did the late spring bring joy and peace to Mandu. With the advent of gay birds from Ceylon, came also messengers from Dhár, in the north, bringing word that Omar the Asra, with a Mohammedan army, had come out of Delhi and was sweeping victoriously southward on his way to Mandu. To this warning and covert appeal for aid, Rai-Khizar-Pál could not but reply by gathering together his fighting men, and preparing to march. Mandu was in a state of excitement; but there was no rejoicing that their well-loved King must prepare to set out on a new campaign. The ministers that were to be left to rule were unpopular; for this time Ragunáth was not to accompany the army, but left co-regent with Manava over the people. For many days these matters kept all the plateau in a state of ferment; and there was perhaps only one person among them all that viewed the proceedings with apathy. He, indeed, was one to whom events might have been considered to be most important. Fidá might not unreasonably have entertained some idea of being taken upon the expedition in his position as King’s cup-bearer. But this hope, or fear, was quickly killed; for Rai-Khizar-Pál valued his slave too highly to run the risk of losing him by allowing him to come into actual contact with his own people. Nor could Oriental flesh and blood have been expected to withstand such temptation to escape. It was on the twelfth of March that the Rajah, with his army, was to set out upon his second campaign against the Mohammedans. On the afternoon of the eleventh, Fidá was with young Bhavani when the Rajah summoned him. It had been one of the slave’s most miserable days. During his morning service he had taken care to keep himself as much as possible behind his master; and now he dreaded the interview extremely. There was, however, nothing for it but to obey the call; and, resigning Bhavani to his attendants, he hurried away to the King’s private room, where he found Manava and Kasya standing one on either side of the royal divan. At the door Fidá performed his usual deep salaam, and was motioned to come forward. “Enter, Asra. I sent for thee. By the flocks of heaven, thou’rt sick to-day! Hast no care for thyself, good slave?” Fidá smiled, slightly and bitterly. “I have no need for care. I am in health, O King,” said he.