he hand of liberality is stronger than the arm of
power. This king, against whom you speak, heard me draw the sigh of
affliction from the bosom of uncertainty. He deigned to regard me with
the eye of patronage, sending me good words and promises of peace and
friendship. He will not permit the house of Islam to be troubled. From
many we have heard it."

"Ah!" exclaimed Matthews. "Now I understand why you have not kept your
promises to the People of the Chain!" And he rubbed his thumb against
his forefinger, in the gesture of the East that signifies the payment of
money.

"Why not?" demanded the Father of Swords, angrily. "The duty of a king
is munificence. Or why should there be a way to pass through my
mountains? Has it ever been said of the Lur that he stepped back before
a stranger? That is for the Shah in Tehran, who has become the servant
of the Russian! Let the People of the Chain learn that my neck does not
know how to bow! And what guest are you to sprinkle my sore with the
salt of harsh words? A boy, who comes here no one knows why, on hired
horses, with only one follower to attend him!"

Matthews flushed.

"Salman Taki Khan," he retorted, "it is true that I come to you humbly,
and without a beard. And your beard is already white, and you can call
out thirty thousand men to follow you. Yet a piece of gold will make you
believe a lie. And I swear to you that whether I give you back this
paper to put in your chest, or whether I spit on it and tear it in
pieces and throw it to the wind of that valley, it is one."

To which the Father of Swords made emphatic enough rejoinder by
snatching the parchment away, rising to his feet, and striding out of
the room without a word.

IV

The festivities in honor of the Shah's coronation took place at Bala
Bala with due solemnity. Among the black tents there was much plucking
of plaintive strings, there was more stuffing of mutton and _pilau_,
and after dark many a little rockets, improvized out of gunpowder and
baked clay, traced brief arabesques of gold against the black of the
underlying gorges. The castle celebrated in the same simple way. The
stuffing, to be sure, was more prolonged and recondite, while dancers
imported from Dizful swayed and snapped their fingers, singing for the
pleasure of the Father of Swords. The eyes of that old man of the
mountain remained opaque as ever, save when he rebuked the almoner who
sat at meat with him for indecorously quoting th