he
gift than for the unworthiness that had prompted its bestowal.

"Her husband contemplated her compassionately. 'You have not many
trinkets, little wife,' he said, 'but this one would not remind us so
much of good deeds done as of base ingratitude. I have no home to take
you to at present, but Bimjee wants us to stay with him until I can
build you another.'

"He stretched forth his hand to Devaka, and, leading her away, departed.
Bimjee, after a salute to me, followed his bidden guests at a little
distance. For myself, I remained awhile to ponder all these happenings.

"To say that I was disappointed in Sheikh Ahmed would not adequately
express my feelings. From the first I had been attracted to the man, by
his handsome figure, distinguished bearing, and pleasant smile. During
our intimacy of four days on the road I had admired the brilliancy of
his conversation, and had taken great delight in his entertaining
recitals of adventure in many far lands. From one like him I had
certainly never expected this display of callous selfishness. But such
is life. We have to keep ourselves prepared for many disillusionments.
And, as I remarked at the outset of my narrative, an experience of this
kind teaches that, if in judging our fellow men we are to be chary of
condemnation, it behoves us also to be discreet in commendation."

And so ended the Bombay trader's story.

* * * * *

After an interval of silence, the voice of the Rajput chief spoke up:

"What became of Baji Lal and Devaka?"

"Oh," replied the merchant, "from that day their happiness returned and
continued. For the villagers were ashamed to have doubted them, so all
contributed to the building and furnishing of their home, and would take
no denial. Good fortune seemed to settle on their roof-tree. Little
Devaka is now the mother of a fine boy, and she wears a chain of gold
around her neck, one given to her by the women of the village when they
heard that she had scorned the proffered gift of Sheikh Ahmed, and
understood the reason why."

"And the Sheikh and his wonderful harp?" questioned the Afghan soldier.
"Did the costly toy reach its destination?"

"The harp is in the treasury of our Sovereign Akbar. Sheikh Ahmed
started back for Poona with the lac of rupees he had promised in the
name of the Padishah and half a lac more for his own recompense. But he
and his company were attacked by a swarm of Mahrattas, and perished to