"Agreed," said he; "now come to your men, and persuade them to be quiet: they will not get so much by violence as by treating us well."
We returned to the group we had left, and I unfolded to them the proposition which had been made to me; it was welcomed with a loud shout which made the air ring, and was then succeeded by loud cries for the money. The sum had evidently been collected previously, for in a few moments a line of men heavily laden with bags of rupees, issued from a lane close to where we were sitting. Duffa by duffa of the Pindharees, each headed by its own duffadar, was brought up to the spot; each man received his hundred rupees, each leader his thousand, which were stowed away in the capacious bags of their saddles.
"You have not cared for yourself, Meer Sahib," said Peer Khan; "you have taken nothing."
"Oh, do not fear for me," I replied; "I have got my share; the bag does not look large, but it holds gold."
His eyes brightened. "That is right," he said; "the others must not know of it."
"Not a syllable; it is known only to you and myself. Now we must take care these rascals commit no excesses; they seem half in the humour to run riot in the town."
"They seem content," he replied; "at least I for one am. By Alla! Meer Sahib, this is rare work; a thousand rupees in a morning's ride is better than our own profession, though we have been lucky in our time."
"Choop!" said I, "silence! This is no time for our secrets. Away with you! See that the men take up ground before the town. I will remain here with some others, and see what becomes of the place when Cheetoo arrives."
One by one the Pindharees left me, except a few who stayed by my desire; and, our business at an end, I sat down and awaited Cheetoo's arrival. "What do you think he will ask?" said my fat friend to me.