BEFORE THE STORM
In a small enclosed garden of the palace, where palms,
bright-leaved crotons, and fragrant blossoms, afforded a
refreshing retreat from the atmospherical furnace with-
out, a man and woman paced side by side in earnest
discourse. The man was tall, bronze-visaged, and of mar-
tial bearing; the woman slender in form, graceful in
carriage, and beautiful in so far as one might gather
from features partly concealed by a fold of her embroid-
ered chuddah. The former was a Mohammedan noble,
Ahmad Khan; the latter, Lachmi Bai, the disinherited
Rani of Jhansi.
At a turn in their walk the Princess turned to confront her companion.
"You say, my Lord," she spoke quickly, " that Baha- dur Shah once more reigns supreme in Delhi; that the troops at Aligurth have marched out to join his stand- ard; that Bareli has fallen into the hands of Khan Baha- dur Khan ; and yet there is no news from Bithur. When, in Heaven's name, is Dundhu Panth, the Peshwa, going to send us the signal to rise in Jhansi ? For a month past my people have impatiently strained on the leash, await- ing my word to rush forth and drive the Foreigners from the State. I cannot nay I cannot hold them in hand much longer. God knows, they have their own wrongs as well as mine to redress."
Ahmad raised a hand restrainingly.
"Patience ! Patience ! my Lady Rani," he exclaimed. "In a little, to-day, to-morrow, surely the Peshwa's messenger will arrive. Restraint will be for the best in
