As he sat, afterwards, in one corner of the tiny square of courtyard that was set round, like a well, with high brick walls, where Jehân and Burkut were playing _écarté_ with an intolerably dirty pack of cards, each crouched on the same string bed (which also served as a table), he could not help watching that gleam, and thereby imperilling the perfect balance of some kites he was fitting with their tails. For there was a notable series of matches to be flown that evening, and the side-way sweep of a real kite overhead warned him that there would be wind. Wind sufficient to warrant a trifle of ballast, perhaps, to these light creatures of his. He had one afloat already, on trial, just above the top of the houses, where, gay in the sunlight, it hung tilted to leeward almost motionless. Lateefa tested the strain on the cord with a finger, as if it had been a violin string, and as he did so his high trilling voice warbled over one of those ingenious versicles that are more of a puzzle than of poetry--seeing that almost every letter in them has a mathematical value--which the idle in India love to turn and twist. 'Lateefa made of naught, made thee of naught, Lateef who never sought the life God brought, Lateef who's bound and caught in right and ought, But _he_ forbids thee naught, since thou _art_ naught, Sail east, west, south, or north, choose thine own port! Thou thing of naught?' Jehân swore under his breath; the cards were against him. The stakes laid on the bed between him and his adversary had taken his last available rupee; and, of late, even Burkut had refused to play without money down. He looked round sullenly, then turned again to shuffle the pack. 'My nakedness against thine,' he said gruffly; 'the clothes are worth a gold _mohur_, I'll warrant.' That was about it, since they were both dressed in the ordinary white garments of nobility at its ease. Burkut shrugged his shoulders. 'If it please thee--as we sit, then. 'Tis thy turn to deal!' Lateefa looked up quickly from his work. 'The Nawâb will deal better without the signet of royalty,' he said significantly, and as Jehân paused, Burkut frowned and laughed at the same time. 'Yea!' he said airily, 'that would fetch more than a gold _mohur_ if 'twere sold. Take it off, my lord.' 'I will do what I choose without thy bidding,' retorted Jehân haughtily, as he drew the ring from his finger and laid it for safety just behind him on the string bed. Lateefa could see it plainly as the cards fell from Jehân's hand; cards that were in his favour; so much so that he could not avoid a triumphant smile. The game seemed his, but he played a false card and lost a point. He dashed the tricks down with such force that the springy plaited twine recoiled from the blow; recoiled and sprang up again.