"What hast thou been blowing thy horn so much for, Bheema, disturbing everybody? If thou wantest to blow, couldst thou not have gone into thy fields and scared away the birds?"
"But, lady, some people are at the gate and demand entrance in the name of the Queen Chand."
"Tell them to go away. If they don't go, wake Burma Naik, and tell him to fire on them. Be off, and do not interrupt me! Ah! dost thou dare to look up at my girls, Bheema," she continued, aiming a blow at him with the long bamboo staff on which she was leaning. "Away with thee, impudent, and do what I tell thee."
"Unless Burma comes to her, I might as well talk to a stone," the man muttered to himself, as he turned away; "and Burma is asleep after the feast on wild hog he had last night. I hope Arjóona has awoke him, for I dare not."
That had apparently been effected some time, for as the horn-blower entered the outer court of Burma's house, he saw him sitting in his usual place. He was tying a checked handkerchief round his head, loosely and very much awry; his face was bloated, greasy, and swollen; his eyes red, and with evident signs that his potations had been long and deep the night before. He was yawning, and spluttering out Canarese oaths at every interval, and was, indeed, by no means pleasant to behold. We have seen him before, a stout, active soldier, assisting little Zóra to escape; but now he was in a different mood, and of different aspect. The vermilion marks on his forehead, nose, cheekbones, and eyebrows, were blurred and partly rubbed off; his hair was dishevelled, and hung about him in unkempt locks; and the scowl on his face bespoke impatience of anything he might have to hear, and vexation that his sleep had been broken.
"The King's soldiers," he said, contemptuously, "what do they want? What brings the King's soldiers here? What induced that meddlesome old Patell, Sheykh Abdoolla, to show them the way? By the Gods! he shall answer for it; let him look to his cattle pens. What does he say? what does he want?"
"He will not tell me," replied the man, "nor the Chitnees, who is talking to him from the bastion by the gate. He says the jemadar of the Royal troops has an order from the Queen, and a letter from Runga Naik to our lady; but he will give up neither except to you and to her together."
"Some requisition for forage, or grain, or money, I suppose," returned Burma, with a sneer; "for the Queen does not write to us except to make a demand. Why did you not tell me this first, and they would have been gone before now with a shower of balls flying after them."
"But," urged the man, putting up his hands in supplication, "what about the master's letter? There may be some order in it."
"If there were," retorted Burma, "he would have sent some of the men with it, not the Queen's jemadar. It is no letter of his, but only a decoy. Go, tell the men to give them warning, and if they don't depart, to fire on them."