"My eyes were still glued in frozen horror to the scene. The screaming
of the frightened troop of elephants had receded into the distance. Out
on the open, through a haze of dust, I saw the blot of coloured raiment
that showed where the body of Prince Hasan lay. And for the moment there
was naught but pity in my heart for the youth who had played by my side,
and gathered knowledge, if not wisdom, from my lips.
"But a hand was laid on my shoulder, and, turning round, I looked into
the face of Mirza Shah. It was lighted by a smile of stern satisfaction.
"'Syed Ali, as you have ever declared, even though I have detected that
your faith at times has wavered, the stars cannot speak falsely. He
died, that dog out there, but not until he had slain his own father.'
"'His own father!' I stammered. The truth began to break in upon my
dazed brain.
"'Yes. It is right that you at least should have the explanation, if for
no other reason than to confirm your trust in the stars. Beguiled to
wrong by the arguments of a serving woman, the sultana had a son. It is
a shameful story, yet do I know that she begot the child out of pure
love for me. Hasan was no son of mine. Enough! I have spoken. You can
guess the rest.'
"Mirza Shah paused.
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