“Yes,” I said, “Sir Charles Warren is the Commander-in-Chief here. The burra lal coatie sahib, Ayah.”
She almost wept. But her intuitive recognition of a great and noble man triumphed over her prejudice. A month later, when we were leaving Singapore, I heard her tell John, the Madrassi—
“In England the Rajah make some sahibs be lal coaties. English Rajah make Warren sahib be lal coatie. Warren sahib very sorry. Warren sahib very good sahib.”
I meant to tell his Excellency, when I saw him next, but I forgot to do so. That’s a pity, for he would have had such a splendid laugh.
Ayah was not a great respecter of rank per se. The presence of a Rajah threw our other native servants into great excitement. Ayah took it very calmly.
She broke her caste repeatedly. She ate whatever I gave her to eat. She literally feasted on bread I had broken. My dhursi would have died first. But the Hindoo loathing of pork never left Ayah. When we went to Khandalah we took too much bacon. The population was entirely native and we couldn’t give it away. Finally, I told Ayah to put it in a basket and take it down to one of the gullies, and throw it away. She flatly refused to touch it, directly or indirectly. It was the only time she ever demurred at any order of mine.
When we were travelling she lay or sat at my feet. On the seat she would not sit, unless to hold one of the children. We always gave her what was left from our lunch when we ate in the train. Nothing would induce her to eat one crumb until we had entirely finished. As my children ate most of the time, she often suffered a long self-inflicted fast.
Her favourite drink was the liquor of tinned asparagus. She learned to make a French salad dressing, as I like it. I have never been able to teach a white servant that!
She would fan me for unbroken hours. How often I have fallen asleep under the wonderful soothing of her touch! She would make the fortune of a Turkish bath.
Her love for children and animals never failed. There was a really passionate attachment between her and my monkey, “Ned.” I think that both their hearts answered to the throb of some distant kinship.