Thus it seemed very probable that no message would be delivered, and the Queen's party and their guide driven away; but the last spokesman to Burma Naik was pertinacious, and insisted that Runga's letter should be received, even from the Mussulman leader.
"Suppose there is anything important in it, and you turned it away. I do not think you would be very safe, master, if my lord knew of it, though you are Burma Naik."
"Humph!" grunted Burma, "there is something in that; and what does the lady say?"
"She will have nothing to do with it, and you are to act as you please. If there is anything addressed to her, you can come and tell her."
"How many want to enter? And how many are there in all?"
"Ten men and their leader, with old Sheykhjee and his Kurnum, and some grooms and baggage ponies, and a Brahmin."
"Sons of vile mothers!" exclaimed Burma, as he aimed a blow at the horn-blower. "Could ye not have told me this before? By your long face one would have thought there had been five hundred of the King's horse. Go! Admit the leader, his grooms and scribe, old Sheykhjee and the Kurnum. We shall soon get to the bottom of all. Tell the rest to remain without."
All this had taken much time, and the Meer Sahib's patience was well nigh exhausted; but the old Patell kept him quiet. "Burma Naik was drunk last night, I suspect," he said, "and was not easy to wake, nor in good humour when awakened. Be patient, and we shall soon know."
Nor, indeed, was it long before the horn-blower and his companion arrived; and, speaking from the wicket of the gate, saluted the Meer Sahib and the Patell, and informed them they had permission to advance and present the letter. The ponderous gate was then opened, and, the Patell leading, both entered the outer enclosure, and rode up the Bazar.