And now, as he lay looking and
listening, he felt it still. The wonder of her face and her voice, and
all the many wonders that made her so beautiful, had hitherto been as
much a part of him as the air he breathed. But this morning, in some dim
way, things were different--and he could not tell why....

His own puzzled thoughts and her face and her voice became entangled
with the chivalrous story of Prithvi Raj holding court in his hill
fortress with Tara--fit wife for a hero, since she could ride and fling
a lance and bend a bow with the best of them. When Roy caught him up, he
was in the midst of a great battle with his uncle, who had broken out in
rebellion against the old Rana of Chitor.

"All day long they were fighting, and all night long they were lying
awake beside great watch-fires, waiting till there came dawn to fight
again...."

His mother was telling, not reading now. He knew it at once from the
change in her tone.

"And when evening came, what did Prithvi Raj? He was carelessly
strolling over to the enemy's camp, carelessly walking into his Uncle's
tent to ask if he is well, in spite of many wounds. And his uncle, full
of surprise, made answer: 'Quite well, my child, since I have the
pleasure to see you.' And when he heard that Prithvi had come even
before eating any dinner, he gave orders for food: and they two, who
were all day seeking each other's life, sat there together eating from
one plate.

"'In the morning we will end our battle, Uncle,' said Prithvi Raj, when
time came to go.

"'Very well, child, come early,' said Surajmul.

"So Prithvi Raj came early and put his Uncle's whole army to flight. But
that was not enough. He must be driven from the kingdom. So when Prithvi
heard that broken army was hiding in the depths of a mighty forest,
there he went with his bravest horsemen, and suddenly, on a dark night,
sprang into their midst. Then there was great shouting and fighting; and
soon they came together, uncle and nephew, striking at each other, yet
never hating, though they must make battle because of Chitor and the
Kingdom of Mewar.

"To none would Suraj yield, but only to Prithvi, bravest of the brave.
So suddenly in a loud voice he cried--'Stay the fight, nephew. If I am
killed, no great matter. But if _you_ are killed, what will become of
Chitor? I would bear shame for ever.'

"By those generous words he made submission greater than victory. Uncle
and nephew embraced, heart to heart