"Not a word, not a letter," cried one and all; "none of us know one letter from another."
"I can send for a moonshee," said the Sahoukar; "one is in attendance."
"If I am permitted," said I, "I will read the list; I may be able to make it out."
"Ha! thou art a clerk as well as a good soldier," cried Cheetoo, laughing. "Well, take the paper, and let us hear our good fortune."
"First, then," said I, after I had glanced over the document, "this paper sets forth, that the sahoukars and others of the market-town of Oomraotee, in council assembled, having heard of the near approach of the mighty Cheetoo and his army, and being desirous of approaching his feet with a small tribute of respect, have put down the following articles and sums of ready money, which are prepared and ready for his acceptance,—on no condition save that, they may find favour in his sight, and be the humble means of insuring his clemency to others."
"Good!" said Cheetoo. "Now get thee to the marrow of the matter as speedily as may be, for my stomach craves food, and I doubt not these worthy gentleman's families have prepared a repast for me."
"It is ready, noble Cheetoo," cried the Sahoukar; "and if the order is given, it will be set out; but the food of us poor Hindoos would be tasteless to my lord, and therefore we have had the repast cooked by the best Bawurchees of the town."
"Silence!" cried the chief; "speak when you are allowed to do so; we are in no humour to be interrupted."
The Sahoukar shrank back intimidated, and raising my voice I proceeded. "The first item, Protector of the Poor!" cried I, "is a sum of fifty thousand rupees for yourself."