"
"I am not a princess _in a story_," said Bija calmly, "I am Her Royal
Highness Princess Bakshee Bani Begum."
CHAPTER X
THE NIGHT OF RECORD
So the summer days passed and winter set in once more. Though more
satisfied, Foster-father felt still that safety depended on King
Humayon's success or failure.
So, whenever one of the long files of camels tied together in a string,
head-and-tail, showed on the hill road above Kandahar, he was off to the
halting-place outside the city to see what news it had collected in its
march from Hindustan; for caravans in those days were the postmen.
And sometimes he heard one thing, and sometimes another, but as often as
not he returned as he went, without any remedy but patience.
"Anyhow the child grows in stature and strength," Head-nurse would say,
"and our present lodging is better than our last!"
Which was true; for the old house of three stories which they now
inhabited was full of little rooms leading one out of the other like a
rabbit-warren. And if there was no furniture in them, so much the better
for the children's games of "I espy" and "Touch who Touch can."
For Bija and Mirak played such games with infinite zest. As Head-nurse
had foretold, the coming of his little sister had been an immense gain
to the Heir-to-Empire; not only in manners, but also in his outlook upon
life. For Princess Bakshee Bani Begum was a very determined small
person, who did not in the least see why the elder sister of a boy
should give way to him in all things, simply because he was
Heir-to-Empire.
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