"He was worth a good thousand rupees, and would have fetched that price at Hyderabad. Why did you not send him there? I would have taken him."
"I did not think of that," said I; "but no matter now; we will earn more than that before we reach Nemawur."
"How, Meer Sahib? We get but little in this poor country."
"Trust me, Ghous Khan," said I; "we have begun, and, Inshalla! we will go on with the work." I reached the tent, and the Lughaees had done their business well; our carpets had been spread over the spot where the Khan lay in his last resting-place, and we all lay down and slept soundly.
Ghuffoor Khan was missed at his accustomed post the next morning; a thousand conjectures were hazarded as to his fate, but no one could account for his disappearance. Some said the devil had taken him for his wickedness; others, that he had amassed an immense plunder, and was fearful of its being wrested from him, and he had therefore escaped with it, as it was known to be sewed up in his saddle. When we reached our next encampment, Cheetoo sent for me. I went, and found him seated in full durbar, and the Khan's servants as prisoners before him. I made my usual salam, and he requested me to be seated near him.
"This is a most mysterious affair, Meer Sahib," said he; "Ghuffoor Khan is gone; and Alla or the Shitan only knows whither! If he has fled, it is as extraordinary a thing as I ever heard of; for he has been attached to me from his youth, and I have ever been kind to him. What think you?"
"I am at a loss also," said I; "your servant knows not what to say; there are a thousand conjectures afloat, but no one can give any probable solution to the mystery. But have you examined the servants? Surely they must know something."
"I have not, Meer Sahib, as yet; but here they are, and I want you to help me to question them. You may think of some things which may escape me."
"I will do my best, Nuwab; but you had better begin—they will be afraid of you and speak the truth."
"Call one of them," said Cheetoo to an attendant.