It looked dangerous with the horse in such an excited state, for his master went close up and began patting the netted neck and talking soothingly.
But the beautiful animal had sense enough to know friends from foes; and, as if getting rid of his anger by stamping furiously, he lowered his crest, snorted and whinnied, and submitted to his master’s caress.
“You, Ram Dad!” cried Dick fiercely; “how dare you stand there and let that black scoundrel ill-use my horse?”
“Dondy Lal Ram Dad’s sahib, sahib. If Ram Dad say a word, Dondy Lal hit him with the stick, and not the horse.”
“You miserable coward!” cried Dick, as he went on caressing the horse and passing his hands softly down the bruised legs, with the effect of making the animal stand quite still; “why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dondy Lal tells things sahib, or give Ram Dad poison. Kill Ram Dad, same as sahib kill Dondy Lal.”
“What!” cried Dick, starting in alarm to gaze down at the syce, who was lying perfectly motionless by the wall, with the light from the door shining full upon his dark face, showing that the eyes were puffing up and the blood running down over his mouth, chin, and neck, to stain his white garments.
“Yes, sahib: kill, quite dead.”
Dick stood gazing at his prostrate servant for a few moments quite aghast, till his strong common-sense began to teach him that such a blow as he had delivered could not have caused death; and the horrible dread which had begun to assail him passed away.
“The cowardly scoundrel is shamming,” thought Dick.