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"I want Tumbu," he would say, "I want to run a race with him. I want to be out of doors." And so while the city was alive with armed men, when there were assaults and repulses and sorties and forlorn hopes going on day after day, Roy would tell Mirak that some day something would happen. Some day the door would open and And one day the door did open.
And so he did; but it was a long, long time before he found out where Mirak had hidden himself, for he had gone to the big palace in a litter, and so had left no trace. Then little Bija came to the rescue once more. "You say, Foster-mother, that you feel sure that Down must have gone away to keep Mirak company.
And the meeting between him and Mirak was so pretty that the sentry had not the heart to insist on poor doggie going down again. And this, in its way, was a good thing, for it was the beginning of a sort of friendship between the young Prince and this particular Afghan sentry.
Prince Akbar, indeed, was too much interested in watching them and wondering if they were very hungry to take much heed of anything else, but Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum, who was a very practical little person, at once began to pack up her favourite doll. "You had better choose out some toy, Mirak," said she, "or you will be wanting to play with mine, and I won't let you."
"Now, Mirak, I'll fetch the sweets if you'll get some lamps. They won't be missed, you know, if we take them betwixt and between." After that there was much secret hurrying up and down stairs and secret gurglings of delight as the preparations advanced. "Oh, Mirak! Won't it be lovely? He's sure to come in when he sees it!" said the little girl, clasping her hands.
"I think it had better be grand-dad," said the Heir-to-Empire gravely, "'cos my father isn't dead yet, and they must be deaders, you know, if they are really to help." "And we'll take the little summer room at the very top of the house, Mirak, so's we'll be able to stop him on his way down, 'case any one else has got a platter for him," said Bija the practical.
But Mirak was busy with the horses. "I sha'n't want anything but my sword," he replied valiantly. "I'm a big boy now, and I'm going to play with real things." Then he turned to one of the troopers with a quaint air of authority. "Your horse is too thin. When I am King I shall see that my men give their horses enough to eat."
It's very, very tiddly wee." It was, indeed! and Mirak sat large-eyed in admiration of his sister's ingenuity, while she, mistress of the situation, did this and that until even she was satisfied. "And now, Mirak!" chattered Bija, "we'll go down and go to bed like good boys and girls, and then when the others are saying their prayers and going to sleep we can come up again and sleep here."
Then the garden would re-echo to children's laughter. And she would let Mirak, as she elected to call her brother, swing her for hours, but she obstinately refused to tumble down! "But, Bija," expostulated the little lad, "the princess did tumble down in the story." "I am not a princess in a story," said Bija calmly, "I am Her Royal Highness Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum."
So Kumran's charming polished manner vanished in an instant, and one day, without any warning, little Mirak, playing in the garden, was kidnapped by two stalwart Abyssinian slaves and carried off, howling horribly and fighting with his fists, to the palace where Kumran's wife lived.
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