The Rajah's Heir: A Novel in 3 volumesDespard, C. (Charlotte)
General
The Rajah's Heir: A Novel in 3 volumes
Despard, C. (Charlotte)
India -- Fiction
The eyes of the young rajah glistened as he held out his hand, over
which Chunder Singh, whose eyes were wet with tears, bent reverently,
for he knew now that his old master had come back to him.
After this they made their arrangements. Hoosanee, who was called into
their counsel, was in favour of their all entering together; but it
was decided against him. The rajah should ride in on his snow-white
horse, with only Subdul Khan, whose face was unknown to the people of
Gumilcund, behind him; and the rest of the train should follow after
about half an hour's interval.
The sun had by this time gone down; a rose-red glow of colour streaming
over the plain transfigured the burnt fields into gardens of Paradise,
and a thin white veil rising from a multitude of evening fires covered
the face of the plain.
Feeling as if everything, and most of all himself, were unreal, Tom
mounted Snow-queen, and, following the road pointed out to him by
Chunder Singh, rode on rapidly for two miles. Then he drew rein, for he
was within sight of the city. Dreamlike and wonderful in the evening
light, the broad shield of the full moon rising above its battlements,
it lay before him. It was all new; but he did not feel that it was new.
It seemed to him rather as if he were coming to a spot where everything
was familiar. He pushed on again, riding more slowly. A bridge thrown
across a deep gully lay in front of him. He crossed it at a foot-pace
and found himself under walls of red sandstone, thick and high, in
the midst of which was a massive gate, flanked with towers, which lay
hospitably open.
By this time Subdul Khan, his only attendant, was close behind him.
They rode in together, no one challenging them, and again Tom drew up
and looked round him. He was in a dazzling little world of pink and
white--pink houses that stood back from a wide white road, through
the midst of which ran a canal of fresh water overshadowed with young
trees, and white poles uplifting lanterns above the heads of the
people, who in gay garments of pink and white were streaming along the
road, and towards the centre of the city.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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