ould find death with
us--for my brother Askurry is close behind us. But if we are gone, God
knows, but he might spare the child. Askurry is not all unkind, and the
little lad favors my father so much that his blessed memory may be
safeguard. God send it so. It is his best chance, his only chance. So
come----"

"I cannot! I cannot!" moaned the poor mother distractedly.

"There is no other way, sweetheart!" said the King, "so be brave, little
mother, and come for thy son's sake. He will be safer here than with
thee. Come! trusting in God's mercy for the child. And come quickly
while the darkness of the storm shrouds our going."

Then he looked round on those others--Head-nurse, Wet-nurse, Old
Faithful, Roy the Rajput, and Meroo the cook-boy--not much of a
bodyguard for the young prince, and yet, since force would be useless,
perhaps as good as any other, if they had a head between them. But the
nurses were women, Faithful nothing but an old soldier, and the two
others were mere boys. Some one else must be left. Who? Then he
remembered Foster-father, Foster-mother's husband. He was the man.
Solid, sober, clear-headed. So, as Queen Humeeda was being hurriedly
wrapped in a shawl by the two weeping nurses, he gave them a few
directions. They were to stay where they were, no matter what happened,
until Foster-father returned from showing the fugitives a path he knew
to the mountains, and then----

King Humayon could say no more. Only as, after a hurried, tearless,
hopeless farewell to his little son, he paused at the tent door to take
a last look, his half-fainting wife in his arms, he said suddenly in a
sharp, loud voice:

"Remember! In your charge lies the safety of the Heir-to-Empire."

The words sank into the very hearts of those who stood watching the
group of hurrying figures making its way rapidly toward the hills.

"Pray Heaven," muttered Old Faithful anxiously, "that they be over the
rise before those who follow see them."

So they stood fearfully watching, watching. And Heaven was kind, for
though one great blue blaze of lightning showed the fugitives clear
against the sky line, when the next came there was nothing but the
rugged rocks.

Then for the first time Baby Akbar, who had been silent in his nurses'
arms, watching with the rest, lifted up his deep-toned baby voice:

"Daddy, Amma," he said contentedly, "gone up in a 'ky."

Whereupon Foster-mother wept loudly and prayed that good angels might
prot