"And how soon going, saar?"
"As soon as I hear some news I am expecting."
"Saar, beg your Honour's pardon, but I know one very clever man in Gora Bazaar. He is wise as a snake, has his ear to the ground, and finds lost things. Why not find lost gentlemans? Also, I knowing by your Honour's favour, one very good magic wallah."
"No, no, no," said Mallender impatiently, "none of that rot, Anthony! You get things ready for a start, here are fifty rupees, and bring a dirzee to-morrow, to make me some clothes for roughing it up-country."
At the same hour the next evening, Anthony as usual awaited his master, and with him was a companion.
"Who's this?" enquired Mallender, "the dirzee?"
"No, saar, my assistant, saar. If we go up-country, plenty work for two. I can cook and shoot game; this boy will do boots, wash dishes, and carry camera. He is a heathen, and very cheap, only six rupees. His name is Chinna-Sawmy, which by your favour means 'Little God.'"
"I hope he won't turn out a little devil!" responded Mallender. "Here, let me have a look at him."
Chinna-Sawmy, who now stood forward, showing two rows of beautiful teeth, was very dark, with inky black eyes, and black shades in his cheerful countenance. His age might be ten, or it might be fifteen. He wore a white coat, which almost swept the ground, an enormous turban—both obviously borrowed—and two silver toe-rings.
"Well, Anthony, remember that you are responsible for him. Does he speak English?"