“Drivelling idiot, son of uncleanness, scoundrel, whose heart is blacker than his face—this is not a man’s bone. Bring me human bones.”
“Sahib, other me not got.”
“Get some, then, and at once;” and he fled from the room.
Was I to be trifled with in this way; to be made small and of no account? I was prepared to unravel the mystery, and was I to be turned aside by a servant—an Indian servant—a black Indian servant?
But I cooled down afterwards, and by-and-bye, when he came in to enquire if I wanted anything, I said, No! he could go to bed.
In April, the weather was beautiful, sunny and bright, without being too hot. The number of patients coming to the Hospital increased as travelling became easier. I saw about a hundred and thirty cases daily. Some came great distances—from Turkestan, Kandahar, Herat, and the borders of Kaffristan.
Called to the Palace.
On the 5th of April, His Highness sent word that he wished to see me. When I arrived at the Palace I found His Highness alone, but for one Secretary and the Page boys. He looked much better and stronger than he had done for a long time. He was attired in native costume, in a bright coloured silk robe, a small white turban wound round a gold-embroidered cap, and loose white Oriental pyjamas.
I stopped some distance from the couch and bowed: His Highness beckoned me to a chair near him and enquired if I were well. Then he continued reading a letter the Secretary had just written, and cigarettes were brought me. It seemed a pity to smoke, for the air of the Palace was sweet with the scent of freshly-cut flowers, hyacinths, wallflowers, and narcissi.
Suddenly, His Highness looked up and asked me when I should like to start for England: he said the weather would soon be hot and unsuitable for travelling in India; and before long, storms at sea were to be feared.