he son was destined to be
his father's slayer, and that in my foolish desire to give the parents
immediate joy I had suppressed the incident of the flaming star.

"As my narrative reached the end I watched the changes in the face of
Mirza Shah. I had expected anger-righteous anger against my own self,
but in place of this there came over his handsome countenance a serene
look of happiness.

"'I thank you, Syed Ali,' he said, 'for the service you have done me.
Had you told me eighteen years ago what you tell me to-night, then for a
certainty would the guilt of murder be now upon my soul. To-day I am
indeed in sore sorrow, but, Allah be praised, there is not my own
child's blood upon my hands.'

"As he spoke he spread out his palms, as if in testimony of their
stainlessness.

"But at that moment a great burst of lamentation came from beneath the
sultana's veil, and, in a shrill tone of agony, she began to reproach
herself.

"'It is I who am the cause of all this misery,' she wailed.

"Instantly Mirza Shah bent down and silenced her, then gathered her,
almost like a bundle, into his arms.

"'I shall return straightway,' he cried to me, as he disappeared down
the narrow stairway.

"Two full hours passed, however, before Mirza Shah came back. His face
was white as marble--every feature seemed set, as the sculptor's chisel
fixes each line of the carved stone. He spoke to me quite abruptly:

"'Syed Ali, ask no questions, but do my bidding immediately. Yours will
be a dangerous task, but it is right that you, who have so long
concealed the truth from me, should be called upon to take the risk. The
successful accomplishment of your mission is the only reparation I
require.'

"'Most gladly will I die for you, Mirza Shah,' I murmured, kissing the
hem of his robe.

"'I know it,' he answered, 'and that is why I trust implicitly in you,
relying both on your courage and on your discretion. Take this ring,' he
went on, handing me a finger ring set with a large turquoise, 'and hide
it among your garments. Use your best wits to evade the enemy's
outposts. Follow the mountain path. You will get a horse from Abdulla
Beg at the head of the gorge. Then ride night and day for Talakabad.
There you will go to the house of a man named Gholab Khan, overlooking
the town. You will hand to him the finger ring I have just given you.
And this you will say: 'Mirza Shah is dead. You are to come to the
person who has sent this ring.'

"'