Anne slipped from her place, and, motioning Meredith aside, hurried into the house like some frightened little animal. As she disappeared Mary Compton started a conversation which was taken up eagerly but without more than a faltering success. It failed altogether as Anne returned.
"That's Ayeshi," Radcliffe whispered in Sigrid's ear.
She looked up. The young Hindu had salaamed gravely, partly to Boucicault, partly to the assembled company and now stood upright and silent. He was barefooted, and the white loose clothes were grey with dust. Yet there was that in the carriage of his slender body and in the dark, delicate featured face which was arresting in its dignity. To Boucicault, possibly, the boy's untroubled ease appeared as insolence. He frowned at him moodily.
"You are Major Tristram's servant," he asked in English.
"Yes, Sahib."
"Well, he has not taught you manners. But that was hardly to be expected. You have brought a message?"
"Yes, Sahib."
"Deliver it."
"It is by word of mouth, Sahib."
"Well, then, deliver it, in Heaven's name."