A second time Churi held out the box, this time voluntarily. “Take it and keep it on thy person for a week.” Fidá drew back. “Nay, I wish it. I trust thee.” “But it is thine. How hast thou not already sold it?” “That is not easy. I dare not show it in Mandu. But in the month of April will come a man from the north, a travelling merchant of Rajputana, that comes each year, bringing with him silks, rugs, gold work, and gems of the costliest kind. I know him well, and he will take the ruby and give me my freedom. Therefore thou seest there is time for thee to recover. Take the stone at least for the space of a week; and then if thou art better, thou shalt keep it till the merchant comes.” There was only friendliness in Churi’s tone. Fidá’s simplicity had disarmed him. Seeing that the favor was done willingly, Fidá accepted it; and, when he walked away from the eunuch’s house, the little golden box lay in its old place in his girdle. Next day, at noon, all Mandu thronged about the palace and along the old road to witness the departure of the Rajah and his army. It was indeed a brilliant pageant that set forth upon the long and dangerous journey to the north. Fidá, in a throng of slaves, stood against the south wall of the great courtyard, and watched the companies form. At high noon Rai-Khizar-Pál, attended by his two ministers, who walked one on either side of him, came out of the palace, and was greeted with tumultuous acclamations by the throng of soldiers and people. And the Lord of Mandu was unquestionably worthy of admiration. Never had Fidá seen him more magnificent. His large, well-proportioned body was clad in half-armor, of a purely ornamental type, under which he wore a fine, white garment heavy with red and silver embroidery. On his head was a white turban from which rose a black aigrette fastened with a pin glittering with rubies. His horse, a magnificent animal, in trappings of black, red, and silver, with the small double-drum rimmed in silver placed before his saddle to mark his rank, was held in waiting. After a few inaudible words with the regents, and an effective parting from each, he walked swiftly to his steed, sprang upon it without aid, caught up his bridle, swept an arm toward his body-guard which immediately galloped up and surrounded him, and then, amid the renewed shouts of his people, rode rapidly out of the courtyard, and began the march. He was followed by Purán, in more serviceable costume, surrounded by a group of what might be called aides; and then by the army itself:—first, two hundred horse, and then five hundred foot, the whole of the forces of Mandu. Slowly, line by line, they formed in the limited space, and wound away after their leaders, spear-heads and head-pieces flashing in the sunshine, men and animals alike fresh and vigorous—eager for what lay before them.