Atmâ | Page 9

subdued light stole through the latticed windows of the house of
Junda Kowr, revealing a court whose hush and shadow contrasted with
the busy life that Atmâ had left behind him. The silence and pleasing
coolness were in harmonious unison with the gleaming alabaster arches,
and the subdued loveliness of arrangement was more agreeable to sense
than Lehna Singh's ornate magnificence. A lace-like screen hung before
a lofty recess. So plain it seemed that one wondered at seeing it
motionless in the breeze made by the silken punkah swinging slowly to
and fro before it. It was of most delicately wrought ivory, and veiled
from the court where female attendants flitted noiselessly about a group
of three persons engaged in earnest conversation. One, a woman whose
black eyes had none of the languor of her race, reclined among
embroidered cushions. The splendour of her jewels proclaimed the
Ranee. Emeralds, rubies, and diamonds glittered on brow and arms.
Before her on a cushion lay a carefully folded and voluminous letter.
Lal Singh lolled at her side, and his gaze like hers was fixed on the
ingenuous countenance of Atmâ Singh, who stood before the Ranee.
She wore no veil, and as Atmâ encountered the gaze of her bold black
eyes, he remembered the sneer of Lehna Singh.
"Come near," she commanded; "you come to me from our good friend,
Lehna Singh. Let me hear what word you bring from him."
"I come, Maharanee," replied Atmâ modestly, "to obey your behests in
all things, but especially to undertake a perilous mission, which I am
assured will result in benefit to the faithful adherents of the Khalsa, as
well as to the interests of your highness and the Maharajah."
"I have heard," said the Ranee, "much of your devotion, courage, and
unswerving integrity, which render you peculiarly fitted for an
enterprise requiring singular daring and fidelity. Lehna Singh has not

scrupled to say that peril of life itself will even be welcome to so
brilliant a spirit."
Her mocking tone brought the blood to Atmâ's cheek, he scarce knew
why.
"It is the high calling of a Sikh," said he, "to encounter danger, and by
the sword to confirm the Khalsa."
"It is a training that makes good soldiers," returned the Ranee, "but as
my claims may prove less potent than those of the Khalsa, I promise
that on your successful return you shall receive from my hands rare and
costly jewels, and gold whose yellow lustre will bid the treasuries of
the world to open."
"On the other hand," interrupted Rajah Lal, "remember that if we are
betrayed, from that moment you are surrounded by countless and
powerful foes, whose revenge you shall not elude."
The lion-heart of Atmâ beat high at this threat, to which he deigned no
reply.
"My reward has been named, Maharanee," he said, "than which the
world can hold no dearer. I will fulfil your embassy and return to you,
but the prize for which I labour needs no enhancement to make it
worthy."
The Maharanee sought the eye of her companion with a glance of
satisfaction, but the Rajah's gaze was rivetted on Atmâ, whilst his
features were distorted as if by a moment's uncontrollable rage. The
transport passed as quickly as it had come, and he sank back to his
former negligent posture. But the Ranee had seen, and a look of startled
and angry intelligence lighted her eyes.
Her instructions bound Atmâ to convey to Golab Singh the letter before
her, which Rajah Lal placed as she spoke in a casket. It was an
expedition of some peril, as the country was occupied by the British
and their native allies, to whom a messenger on his way to any court

must be an object of suspicion. In addition to this the friendly reception
at the Court of Jummoo of an envoy of Junda Kowr was altogether a
matter of conjecture.
Further directions regarding his movements in Kashmir would, the
Ranee informed him, be conveyed to him from time to time by trusted
servants.
"A female servant," she said, "by name Nama, has frequently been
employed by me on missions requiring great tact and caution. Her I
will shortly send to the borders of Kashmir, and if you repair in fitting
season to the Sacred Well of Purity you will there receive from her any
communication I may have to make." The subject of the fateful
sapphire she lightly dismissed. "If we receive through this slave a good
report of the demeanour of this new-made Rajah, this horse-boy in my
husband's service, Rajah Lal Singh will join you at the court of
Kashmir, and the recovery of the missing jewel, which I am told forms
a prominent ornament in Golab Singh's attire, will then no doubt
engage