It had but lately passed into the hands of Humayon.

There were not wanting many who preferred Kumran, and Kumran was in exile waiting an opportunity.
And that came with the suddenness of a summer storm.

One night the gates of the town were closed by the Regent Shurruf Khan in Humayon's name; the next dawn saw the Iron Entry, after a brief scuffle, opened in the name of Kumran! There was a rush of armed men through the streets of the town, a murder or two of loyal men in high authority.

And then?
Up at the Bala Hissar, Foster-father roused from his sleep, went in haste to the Regent, expecting to hear bugles, to find troops gatherings for defence; but the gates of the Fort were open! Shurruf Khan was traitor! He had gone over to the enemy.

Ere an hour was over Kumran, scowling, walked up and down the royal apartments, a King once more; but biting his lips and frowning over something that stood between him and perfect revenge! Foster-father, good old fool, was back in his dungeon in the well, where this time he would rot.