"I did not hear any description of him. I will bring Mr. Hildreth, and he will answer your questions."
"That will be well, sahib; I think I know the fakir."
Mr. Hildreth warmly greeted the guide as he came forth, and the two looked cautiously out over the plain to see if there was any danger of immediate attack from the Ghoojurs. Luchman said there was none, and the two then began talking about the fakir in whom all felt much interest.
"This seems to be a land of mystery," said the surgeon to himself: "and here is one of them."
To the disgust of the young physician, at the moment the conversation grew more interesting, the two dropped into Hindustani, and all that he had learned during his several years' residence in Calcutta did not suffice to afford him an inkling of the meaning of a single sentence.
Avery believed that the reverend gentleman gave information to Luchman which he withheld from the others. The expression on the faces of both showed they felt unusual interest in the question. The native told the missionary who he believed the bogus fakir was, and shortly after Mr. Hildreth walked back through the archway to his family and friends.
Finding himself alone with the guide, Dr. Avery asked:
"What have the Ghoojurs done since we left you?"
"Nothing, sahib; they have been talking together and have moved backward and forward. But there they are, sahib, the same as when you went inside."
Avery looked out and of course saw that things were as stated by the native. The dozen brigands who showed such annoying interest in them formed an irregular group, some of whom were lolling on the ground, in the fervid rays of the sun, while others stood near each other discussing questions in which they were interested, the all important one being as to the best means of dislodging the Feringhees from the ruins of the temple.