her always reproved her for her fears. "Leave the lad to
learn King's ways," he said, "and thank Heaven the Rajput foundling is
here to teach him. Think you _I_ could tumble head over heels in air or
water or ride bareback standing on one leg?"

"No, indeed!" would reply Head-nurse, who stifled her terrors from a
sense of duty, "none, seeing thy figure, friend, would ask so much of
thee."

Then, when Akbar grew tired, Roy would sit leaning his back against a
peach tree so as to make a soft pillow for his little master, and Akbar
would lean against him and listen to endless stories while the soft
fresh breeze stole over the garden wall, and sent showers of pink peach
petals on both the boys. And sometimes the little Prince, outwearied,
would fall asleep, and then Roy would sit still as a mouse, gently
flicking away with the end of his muslin turban the blossoms that fell
on the little sleeper's face. But his thoughts would be busy, wondering
above other things why it was that, do what he would, he could not help
when they were alone at play sometimes calling the Heir-to-Empire
"little brother." It was dreadfully wrong of him, of course, and
Head-nurse would rightly cuff his ears if she overheard it!

Then Akbar would wake and call imperiously for some favourite story, and
as often as not it would be the tale of "How Rajah Rasalu swung the
Seventy Maidens."

And Roy would reply submissively: "It is ordered, Highness!" and begin:

"Now Rajah Rasalu, soft heart and strong, heard a pitiful voice as he
rode along. 'Oh traveller! traveller! turn aside, and help God's
creature,' it moaned and cried. So the Prince turned straight and saw
that a fire had caught a bush, blazing higher and higher, while a tiny
cricket lay gasping for breath, half-scorched, half-choked, and nigh to
its death. Then Rajah Rasalu, soft hearted and stout, put his hand in
the fire and snatched it out! And the cricket drew forth a feeler and
said: 'Take this, my preserver, 'twill bring you aid; should _any_ thing
_ever_ prove troublesome, burn _this_ in the fire and _I_ will come.'
Then Rasalu laughed with a great big laugh, 'I thank you, weakling! But
none of your chaff! _You_ couldn't help _me_ I'll go bail.' So he rode
on careless o'er hill and dale, a glittering knight in his shining mail,
till he came to the city of King Surkap, whom he'd sworn to kill with
his sword so sharp. Now as he rode through a garden gay, Seventy Maidens
barred the way;