"Thus it was made clear. So I gave it Mai Kâli's milk, knowing it was true what he had said, 'that they had squared the gods.'"
The voice paused, and another asked, "And then?" before it went on dreamily.
"Yea! it was true indeed, for ere the day ended they were back with guns and soldiers. So, since silence is better than speech when nought is sure, I crept in the night to a Colonel's house and left the child in the garden for them to find.
"Forty years ago, brothers! Forty years is it since the boats slipped down to safety with the Huzoors, and now ..."
There was a sudden stir in the waiting crowd.
A boat had slipped up the river shadows from the bridge and was making for the steps.
"That's your station, Brown," said an English voice; "the water is a bit deep about the shrine, remember, and the old women are devilish hard to keep back. All right!" it continued, as a man stepped out. "Go on to the next. We are a bit early on the field; but it is as well to be beforehand, and square things."
As the boat paddled on, another English voice in the stern said in a low tone, "Why did you put Brown there? Just where his father was killed, don't you remember?"
"Just why I did! He won't stand any nonsense, and it is a troublesome job. Besides, he wasn't killed, and there's luck in it. That was a queer story. Some one saved him, of course, but why? and how? Now, Smith! there you are. And, as I said to Brown, for Heaven's sake look after the old dodderers, male and female. When they've nothing left to live for ..."
The rest was lost as the boat went on to a yet farther station.