Such a garden, in the Mogul days, was kept up as a pleasure-ground during the owner's lifetime, and used as his last resting-place after his death. The old tradition laid down that it must be acquired by fair means, and not by force or fraud. So Rajah Jey Singh, to whom the garden belonged, was compensated by the gift of another property from the Emperor's private estate.
His ghastly reserve deserted him. "Jey Bhowana!" he screamed "Yah Allah!" Chunda Lal, uttering a loud groan, stabbed himself and fell backward into the opening. Ensued a monstrous crash of broken glass. As he fell, Fo-Hi leapt to the brink of the trap, glaring down madly into the cellar below. His yellow fingers opened and closed spasmodically. "Lie there," he shrieked "my 'faithful' servant!
The Palace of the Maharajah is neither particularly interesting nor beautiful, and we did not visit it further than to inspect the ancient observatory built by Jey Singh, with its huge sundial, whose gnomon stands 80 feet above the ground!
Ah! you do not know; it is to gain time that I seem to serve him! Only this, Miska" he revealed the blade of a concealed knife "stand between Fo-Hi and you! Had I not read it in his eyes!" He raised his glance upward frantically. "Jey Bhowani! give me strength, give me courage! For if I fail ..."
Rolling his eyes in the direction of the eastern wall, he concealed the knife. "Chunda Lal!" Miska spoke wildly. "I am frightened! Please let me go, and tomorrow " "To-morrow!" Chunda Lal raised his eyes, which were alight with the awful light of fanaticism. "For me there may be no tomorrow! Jey Bhowani! Yah Allah!" "Oh, he may hear you!" whispered Miska pitifully. "Please go now.