It was as if a city had
blossomed in an hour. Those who looked from the walls muttered
prayers to the Lord of the Trident; for these men seemed like the
swarms of the locust - people, warriors all, fierce fighting-men.
And in the ways of Chitor, and up the steep and winding causeway
from the plains, were warriors also, the chosen of the Rajputs,
thick as blades of corn hedging the path.
(Ahi! that the blossom of beauty should have swords for thorns!)
Then, leaving his camp, attended by many Chiefs, - may the
mothers and sires that begot them be accursed! - came
Allah-u-Din, riding toward the Lower Gate, and so upward along
the causeway, between the two rows of men who neither looked nor
spoke, standing like the carvings of war in the Caves of Ajunta.
And the moon was rising through the sunset as he came beneath the
last and seventh gate. Through the towers and palaces he rode
with his following, but no woman, veiled or unveiled, - no, not
even an outcast of the city, - was there to see him come; only
the men, armed and silent. So he turned to Munim Khan that rode
at his bridle, saying,-
"Let not the eye of watchfulness close this night on the pillow
of forgetfulness!"
And thus he entered the palace.
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