"Listen!" hissed Ranjoor Singh.
Yasmini wriggled closer, and pretended to be watching her maids over
by the window.
"That man who came last," said the risaldar-major, "has been told
that thou art like a spider, watching from the middle of the web of
India."
"Then for once they have told the truth!" she chuckled.
"In the bazaar he asked to be shown men of all the tribes, that he
might study their commercial needs. He was told to come here and meet
them; and these were sent for from the caravanserais. Is it not so?"
"Art thou thyself for the Raj?" asked Yasmini.
"I lead a squadron of Sikh cavalry," said Ranjoor Singh, "and you
ask me am I for the Raj?"
"The buffalo that carries water for the office lawn is for the Raj!"
said Yasmini.
"Then he and I are brothers."
"And he, yonder--what of him?" She was growing impatient, for the
tune was nearly at an end, and it would be time presently for her to
take up the burden of entertainment.
"He will ask, perhaps, to speak with a Sikh of influence."
"Sahib, 'to hear is to obey,'" she mocked, rising to her feet.
"Listen yet!" commanded Ranjoor Singh. "Serve me in this matter, and
there will be great reward. I, who am only one, might die by a
dagger, or a rope in the dark, or ground glass in my bread; but then
there would be a squadron, and perhaps a regiment, to ask questions.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27