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L. Frank Baum
Daughters of Destiny
Published by Good Press, 2021
EAN 4057664573704
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I PRINCE KASAM OF BALUCHISTAN
CHAPTER II THE AMERICAN COMMISSION
CHAPTER III THE PERSIAN PHYSICIAN
CHAPTER IV THE DAUGHTER OF THE VIZIER
CHAPTER V THE PERIL OF BURAH KHAN
CHAPTER XI CAPTURE OF DAVID THE JEW
CHAPTER XII THE GIRL ON THE DIVAN.
CHAPTER XVII DAVID SELLS AN IMPORTANT SECRET
CHAPTER XVIII THE VIZIER OPENS THE GATE
CHAPTER XIX IN THE GARDEN OF AGAHR
CHAPTER XX THE GIRL IN THE HAREM
CHAPTER XXI THE CHAMBER OF DEATH
CHAPTER XXII BY THE HAND OF ALLAH
CHAPTER XXIII THE VENGEANCE OF MAIE
CHAPTER XXIV THE SPIRIT OF UNREST
CHAPTER XXVI HER SERENE HIGHNESS THE KHANUM
BOOK I
THE MAN
CHAPTER I
PRINCE KASAM OF BALUCHISTAN
“What country did you say, Prince?”
“Baluchistan, my lord.”
The great financier lay back in his chair and a slight smile flickered over his stern features. Then he removed his eye-glasses and twirled them thoughtfully around his finger as he addressed the young man opposite.
“I remember,” said he, “that when I attended school as a boy one of my chiefest trials in geography was to learn how to bound Baluchistan.”
“Ah, do not say that, sir,” exclaimed Prince Kasam, eagerly. “It is a customary thing, whenever my country is mentioned, for an Englishman to refer to his geography. I have borne the slight with rare patience, Lord Marvale, since first I came, a boy, to London; but permit me to say that I expected you to be better informed.”
“But, why?” asked the nobleman, raising his brows at the retort.
“Because Baluchistan is a great country, sir. You might drop all of England upon one of its plains—and have some trouble to find it again.”
Lord Marvale’s eyes twinkled.
“And how about London?” he asked. “You have many such cities, I suppose?”
“There is but one London, my lord,” answered the young man composedly; “and, to be frank with you, there are few clusters of houses in my country that are worthy the name of cities. We Baluchi are a wild race, as yet untamed by the influence of your western civilization, and those who wander in desert and plain far exceed in numbers the dwellers in towns.”
“I am not so ignorant as you may suppose,” declared Lord Marvale; “for it is a part of my business training to acquire information concerning all countries of the world, however remote and barbaric they may be. For instance, I know that your country is ruled by the Khan of Kelat, and that the English have established a protectorate over it.”
“Kelat!” cried the other, a touch of scorn in his tone; “that, sir, is not Baluchistan at all. It is the country of the Brahoes, a weak and cowardly race that is distinct from the Baluchi, my own people. Small wonder they need the English to protect them! But Kelat, although placed in Baluchistan by your map-makers, is another country altogether, and the unconquered Baluchi owe no allegiance to any nation in the world.”
For a time the financier sat silently in his chair. Then he asked:
“You have lived here since childhood, Prince?”
“Since eight years of age, my lord.”
“Why were you educated in London, if your people dislike Europeans?”
“For political reasons, sir. I am the sole legitimate descendant of seven generations of Khans of