Fidá shrugged. He felt himself suddenly put upon the status of a servant who discusses the persons whom he serves; and, furthermore, Churi’s words seemed to dispel the secret satisfaction he had felt in having outwitted Ragunáth that afternoon. Even these thoughts it is possible that Churi robbed him of; for, as the latter turned away, the smile was still upon his lips; nor did it wholly fade as he went back to his quarters, which were at the other end of the palace, beyond the zenana wing.
In his own sphere, Churi was a privileged person, commanding a respect and an interest above that of Kasya, the incorruptible. Like Kasya, Churi had a room of his own; though he by no means always occupied it alone. So great was his skill in medicine and surgery that he took the place of first official physician in the palace, though he had had many rivals for the place, and the Rajah was still obliged to employ a corps of priests who strove, by means of spells and charms, to prove their methods superior to those of the eunuch with his herbs, simples, and tourniquets. Churi’s opponents troubled him little, however. He appreciated his gift; and generally cared for the sick among the slaves and eunuchs in his own room. Two of his fellows had, in spite of his care, recently died there of the malignant fever so common at this season of the year. And to-night, having no desire to eat alone, Churi took his evening meal of millet and ghee with the other eunuchs in the common room. While he was still there, chatting with a companion or two, Kasya invaded the apartment, evidently in search of some one; and, finding Churi, seized upon him, and drew him back to his own room, where they could be alone. As they went, Churi broke silence:
“The young lord was safely found to-day?”
They were out of possible ear-shot before Kasya answered: “Too safely. He was in the rooms of Ragunáth. But my lord himself was not there. Kanava had the child, and I do not understand the alarm. Tell me, didst thou overtake the Ranee before she reached the ruin?”
During this last question Churi had begun to laugh. “Oho! I perceive! Mine eyes are enlightened!”
“What sayest thou?”
“Oho! The faithful Kasya walks out with the Ranee. My lord councillor is disappointed, captures the child, amuses him in his rooms with toys, spreads the alarm that he is lost, brings back the faithful Kasya to the search, and then goes to join the Ranee in the poppy field! Oho!”
“Ragunáth! He dared!”
Churi laughed again. “Dared he not? The Lady Ahalya was in the middle of the poppy field. Neila and I stood, by command, near the ruin. Then the councillor appeared. He had come through a path in the little jungle. At very sight of him the Ranee fairly fled to us, whereupon we set out again for the palace. Nor have I seen him since.” Churi stopped rather abruptly, wondering how this ingenious version of the truth had ever come out of him. Was it worth while to add the important details? There was no time to consider. Kasya was furious.
“This—this, at last, shall go to the King! This even I cannot countenance from the man—”