onderful bazaars as they were, too! Crowded with tiny dark arched
shops, like caverns, full to the brim with Persian silk carpets, furs
from the north, turquoises and all kinds of precious stones from
out-of-the-way places with unpronounceable names. And there were such a
quantity of cats! Grey Persian cats and white ones, and tabbies and
black cats who sat on the balconies and stared at Down as she lay on
Horse-chestnut's broad, wavy back. For the Captain of the Escort had
found out what an excellent creature the old pony was, and had brought
it along with him.

The High Fort was a huge place with great gardens within its battlements
and several separate palaces. Here, to Foster-father's unbounded
delight, they found that Prince Kumran was himself away, having gone out
with a small body of men to the Kandahar frontier, where King Humayon's
arrival had aroused loyalty. But what was still more cheering was the
news that he had left orders for the Heir-to-Empire and his sister to be
handed over on arrival to the charge of Dearest-Lady! Foster-father
could hardly believe his ears; for Dearest-Lady (as she was always
called by all her family, by all her nephews and nieces, by all her
grand nephews and nieces, and cousins, and every one who was lucky
enough to belong to her) was simply--Well! what was she not? Wise, and
gentle, and good, and clever--all this and more. She was the sort of
Dearest-Lady who lived so long in the hearts of those who knew her,
that, years after she was dead they would say, if there was any
difficult point to be settled--"We wonder what Dearest-Lady would have
said?"

She was old, of course, for she was Babar the Brave's elder sister; the
sister to whom he had been devoted, who had always been to him also "his
Dearest-One." Now, when you come to think of it, boys and girls, that
is a nice sort of fame to have--to remain for--let me see how many
hundred years?--nearly four--Dearest-Lady, or Dearest-Gentleman to all
the world.

This Dearest-Lady was, of course, the Heir-to-Empire's grand-aunt, and
the mere sound of her name was enough to calm Foster-father's fears.
Even Head-nurse, though she sniffed a little and said she had heard tell
that the Khanzada Khanum was a trifle careless of ceremonials, was
satisfied. There was no doubt that she was the Highest-Born-in-the-Land.

As for little Prince Akbar himself, he only opened his big, grave eyes
widely when the tall white figure clasped him closel