No Mary answered, so Norah went about her preparations alone—a big basin of hot water, boracic acid—standby of the Bush—soft rags, and ointment from the "hospital drawer" Mrs. Brown kept always ready. She shuddered a little as she began to bathe the wound, while the Indian watched her with inscrutable face, never flinching, though the pain was no small thing. It was done at last—cleansed, anointed, and carefully bandaged. Then he smiled at her gratefully.
"Ram Das him say you good," he said. "Him truth!"
Norah laughed, somewhat embarrassed.
"Hungry?" she asked. "You take my food?"
It was always a delicate question, since the Hindu is easily offended over a matter of caste. This man, however, was evidently as independent as Ram Das, for he nodded, and when Norah brought him food, fell to work upon it hungrily.
Thus it was that Mary, brought from the hysterical sanctuary of her room by the pressing sense of the necessity of looking after the kitchen fire, and coming back to her duties like a vestal of old, found her dreaded enemy cheerfully eating in the kitchen, while Norah sat near and carried on a one-sided conversation with every appearance of friendliness, with Tait sleepily lying beside her—at which astonishing spectacle Mary promptly shrieked anew. The Hindu rose, smiling nervously.
"Come here, you duffer, Mary!" said Norah, who by this time had arrived at something of an understanding of the previous happenings. "He's as tame as tame. Why, old Ram Das sent him!"
"Miss Norah, he's got a knife on him!" said Mary, in a sepulchral whisper. "I saw it with me own eyes. He nearly killed Puck with it!"
"Well, Puck was trying to kill him," said Norah, "and I guess if you had a wrist like his, you'd defend yourself any way you could, if Puck was at you! He's terribly sorry he frightened you—you didn't understand him, that was all. Ram Das sent him to have his wrist fixed up, and his name's Lal Chunder, and he's quite a nice man!"
"H'm!" said Mary doubtfully, relaxing so far as to enter the kitchen, but keeping a respectful distance from the hawker, who took no further notice of her, going on with his meal. "I don't 'old with them black creechers in any shape or form, Miss Norah, an' it's my belief he'd kill us all in our beds as soon as wink! Scarin' the wits out of one, with his pink top-knot arrangement—such a thing for a man to wear! Gimme white Orstralia!"