"Nay, that innocent, sad look of thine will not pass, my friend. Maybe I have heard something of the successes of the handsome Bengal Chief in love as well as in war."

"Rumour talks wildly, Prince Prithwi Raj, for little success in love can I boast of. It is not on friendless strangers, but on chivalrous Princes, that the beauties of Agra love to bestow their favours."

"But chivalrous Princes have not the same chance, Norendra, as a handsome young stranger who finds his way inside the palace walls."

"Thou forgettest, Prince, that I was taken inside the Amber Guest House unconscious, and I lay there in a bed of illness. Thou hast been luckier, and if rumour speaks truly, the dark-eyed Kanchanis of the royal Court have sometimes cast smiling glances on the royal Troubadour of Bikanir."

"Perhaps yes, perhaps no," replied the Prince, not a little flattered, "but that is no answer to my inquiry. There are slave girls in Agra fairer than the fairest Kanchanis, and rumour also speaks of one of the prettiest of them who lost her heart when nursing a young handsome soldier. Ha! has that shot told? for I see thee start."

"I know of none, Prince, whose heart I sought or won. A stranger enters the palace at some risk, and glad was I to escape to humbler quarters as soon as I was cured."

"But the temptations of the palace are worth the risk, are they not? May be my young friend knows something of the dark-eyed slaves who attend on Queens and Begums."

"Small chances are there of meeting dark-eyed slaves, Prince, in a bed of sickness."