They say here he will go soon away, over the sea to the court of the Kaisar-I-Hind.

He is rich, why does he linger?
And perhaps not return.
"All these long years of my watch thrown away! For, never a single one of the sacred jewels has he shown me! They have never seen the light since the awful day in Humayoon's Tomb.

Has he the jewels?
Does he hide them?
Has he buried them?
Has he sent them away?
If he has them, then he dies the death of a dog.

The jewels of a king to be the spoil of a low tax-gatherer! The King of Kings.
"But why does he not go?
I have watched him for years.
"There is some reason! Hawke Sahib shall tell me all! He must tell! He needs my help!" The old man's slumbers were haunted with the olden memories of a day of doom, the day when the bodies of the sacred Princes of Oude lay naked in the glaring sun as they were despoiled after Hodson's pistol had done its bloody work.

"They may have taken them all from him, these English are greedy spoilers," muttered the crafty old man, as his head fell upon the silken cushions with a curse.