The kahar knocked with the rattling chain. He knocked twice, thrice, and yet again; only the bark of a dog gave reply.
“There is some one within; I hear moving and talking,” said Robin, and he himself energetically repeated the summons at the door, which brought a shrill reply from inside, “Fursat nahim” (No leisure), which is the Panjabi form of saying, “Not at home.”
“Show yourself,” said Robin to Alicia; “I see a child’s face peeping over the wall.” As he spoke he threw up the blind of the doli on the side nearest to the fort, and then himself rapidly retreated out of sight.
Alicia put one slippered foot out of the doli, and extended one arm, with its satin sleeve and golden bracelet,[[6]] to extricate herself and her voluminous dress. The effect was magical. Almost a scream of astonishment came from the top of the wall; then there was the sound of a rapid rush within; the door was thrown open, and amidst children’s shrill cries of “Mem! Mem! devi [goddess], devi!” Alicia entered the court-yard, to be almost mobbed by a crowd of little urchins of both sexes, who came staring and shouting to welcome her in.
[6]. It need hardly be said that the lady’s example is not given for imitation. A missionary’s dress can scarcely be too quiet and unostentatious. It would be worse than foolish for one to draw on herself the attention which should be given to the message which she bears. When the lantern throws a Scripture picture on the sheet, the exhibiter carefully avoids standing in front of it, lest he should himself hide what he seeks to display.
Alicia, a little bewildered and half deafened by the noise, picked her way as carefully as she could along the yard, which seemed to be even more dirty than usual. She was cumbered by the necessity of holding up her long dress, while at the same time protecting her head with her white-covered umbrella. It was disagreeable to be jostled by children whose every touch must leave a mark on her white satin; but Alicia went on till the second court was reached, and then the dark stair. Beyond this there were great pushing and scrambling; Alicia was almost thrown down the steps by her noisy, excited young escort. Presently she emerged into daylight, flushed and heated, with her beautiful dress by no means improved by the crush.
There was now no difficulty in collecting women; they came from every likely and unlikely place to stare on an English lady, or rather on the bridal dress which she wore. Premi alone stood on the roof above, with Darobti’s fat baby astride on her hip.
“Sit down, sit down!” cried Chand Kor. “Sit down, sit down!” echoed the one-eyed Jai Dé. The bibis were evidently determined to indulge their curiosity to the full. “Keep back; bad zát” (low caste), shouted Darobti to the children who were pressing around Alicia to stroke her smooth satin and finger her jewels.
When a little order was restored, Alicia had to play show-woman to the various parts of her dress and the ornaments which she wore. Her satin slippers, her silk stockings extorted many a “Wah! wah!” the women feasted on the sight of such pretty novelties. Alicia had to take even the silver ear-rings from her ears, to be passed round and admired. The lady’s patience was almost exhausted before she had any opportunity of pursuing the object for which she had come. Alicia seized that of the first lull in the noise and excitement.
“Now show me your jewels—all, all!” she cried, repeating the lesson learned from Robin.