Nevertheless, his contemptuous action served to hide from him the fact that Roger reached out a long arm and detained a fellow who was hastening in the rear of the Jesuit’s retainers.
“Whence comes thy master?” he said gruffly.
“From Lahore, sahib,” was the stuttering reply, for the man was frightened by the size of his questioner.
“And whither is he bound?”
“To the court of the mighty Akbar, O protector of the poor.”
“Hath he been long in these parts?”
“I know not, huzoor. I am a poor man—”
“Treat him easily, Roger,” put in Walter. “See now, brother, here is a rupee for thee. How is thy master known?”
“He is called the Fire-Father,” answered the native, reassured by the sight of the money and the relaxation of Roger’s grip. “They say he earned the name from the Emperor himself, because once, when a moullah disputed with him, the black-robed one challenged the moullah to enter with him into a raging fire. The one would carry the Koran and the other a Book by which he sets great store. Then, he said, it would readily be seen whether Mahomet or He whom he calls Christ were the more powerful. But the moullah hung back, and the Emperor laughed, I have been told.”
“Aye,” said Roger in English, “he has faith enough and to spare, I warrant ye. Anyone who believes that Spain can win her way in England will believe owt. And as for fire, God wot, he hath the stomach of a salamander for it. Now, had I been the moullah, I would have bid him go first into the flames, when, an he survived the ordeal, Mahmoud should be scouted as a rank impostor.”