"I will follow your advice in all things, Meer Sahib. I shall bring no servants; the man who will drive my spare tattoo can attend me when I require it; and the less show I make, the less I shall be suspected of carrying money with me."
"Remember then," said I, "you come to my camp by the time the morning-star rises; we shall all be ready for you, and the sun will not be powerful ere we reach our stage."
He promised to be there by the appointed time, and I left him. I found my trusty emissary waiting for me in my tent. He burst into a loud laugh when he saw me. "Is he safe?" he asked at length. "Ah, Meer Sahib, I have had great amusement, as no doubt you have also."
"He is, he is fairly caught. The net is around him; one pull and he is a lost man. And you, my faithful friend, you have succeeded so that I marvel at your success."
"Marvel not," he replied; "the task was easier than I thought. But hear my adventures."
"Surely," said I; and I called for a chilum, while he proceeded.
"You remember when you left me?"—I nodded,—"Well, it was a long time ere I could find a servant; and in despair I lay down in the shade of the wall, but kept awake; at last a fellow came out, a Hindoo, as luck would have it, and I followed him: 'Canst thou direct me to a kulal's shop?' said I; 'I have travelled far, and my throat is dry.' I saw that the fellow himself drank, from the colour of his eyes, and they sparkled at the mention of the kulal's shop. 'There is one close by,' he replied; 'I will show it.' 'Good,' said I, 'thou shalt share my potations.' Well, we entered the shop, and went into the inner room. I called for a bottle of liquor, and paid for it; the place was somewhat dark, and I poured what I took on the ground, but he drank every drop; he finished the bottle as though it had been water, and I sent for more. At last I began by asking him who his master was, and what service he did, and, Mashalla! I heard in a wonderfully short time all about him; and, lastly, that he was going on a journey, but had been prevented by an astrologer's having declared the morrow to be an unlucky day. In fine, my friend Sumbhoo (for such was his name) got very drunk, and having told me much of his master's private history, which did not redound to his credit, he fell senseless on the ground, and there I left him; but not before I had ascertained that the astrologer resided at a temple in the next street, and that his name was Seonath."
"I have seen him," said I; "a tall, fair man, a good-looking priest, and stout enough for a Thug."
"You saw him! How and where?" I told him, and we had a hearty laugh as I described the scene in the court-yard, and mimicked the cringing tones of the merchant, and the haughty ones of the Brahmin.
"But listen," said Laloo, "and wonder as I did. I soon found the temple and the Brahmin, and accosting him, I begged for a charm against the evil eye for my child. He looked at me—ya Alla, how he looked! I quailed under his gaze, and my flesh crept as if I were in an ague fit; for once I was afraid, for I knew not the man, and yet he seemed as if he could read my heart. 'Follow me,' said he, 'I would speak with thee apart from these prying people.' He spoke kindly, and I followed him, though almost mechanically. He went before me. 'Leave your shoes,' said he; 'this place must not be polluted: it is sacred.' At last we were alone, in a small court, where there was a shrine of the god. Again he turned on me, and looked into my face. I really knew not what to think; and oh, how glad I was when he put an end to my suspense by repeating our signal words!"