“It is ready, my lord,” he said. “I was awaiting your commands.”
“Oh!” I mentally exclaimed, “what a fool I am! Why don’t I act like a real ‘my lord,’ and order these people about more?”
Then aloud, with importance—
“Is it shady where you have placed it?”
He shook his head.
“What!” I cried angrily. “You have put it in the sun?”
“No, my lord; it is under a great tree.”
“Why, I asked you if it was shady,” I cried; and then it occurred to me that, in spite of my studies at Brandscombe and out here, my Hindustani was very imperfect, for the man smiled in a deprecatory way which seemed to mean that he hoped my lord would not be angry with him for not understanding his words.
“Take me out now,” I said.
Salaman clapped his hands softly, and the two men I knew by sight entered at once, followed by two more whom I had not previously seen. These four, at a word from my attendant, advanced to stand two at the head, two at the foot of my couch.