"Loose my arms, noble Meah—tell them to loose my arms. They are swelling already, and I am sick with pain," said the kullal, rising.
"If my lord allows me, I will loose him. There!" continued the soldier, on receiving Fazil's sign in the affirmative; "see thou speak the truth, else I will tie them tighter than ever, and they will not be loosened again while thou art alive."
"My lord, don't threaten me, or I shall lose my senses," said the kullal, the horrible vision of hanging, as he had seen many hang to the branches of that famous tree, coming vividly to his mind. "If there be a good Hindu among you, give me a drink of water. Ah, my arms! my arms!" he cried, sitting down again, and sobbing as the rope was loosened.
"Here is water," said one of the men, advancing with a brass vessel full. "I am a Rajpoot—drink."
The draught refreshed him, and he began his tale. It was in the main correct, and as we have already related it. "Tannajee and his companions had been at his shop only a few minutes before Fazil and Bulwunt came in. They had been very careful, and before they entered the house placed scouts to watch all the approaches. They spoke in low tones, and, beyond a few words now and then, he had caught nothing of their conversation. All that he could gather was, that Pahar Singh and a Gosai from Tooljapoor were expected, and they were so impatient for their arrival, that two of the men had by turns gone to see after them."
"Had they ever been at your shop before?" asked Fazil.
"Yesterday one of the men was there twice to say the place would be wanted in the evening," replied the kullal; "and he gave me ten rupees to say I had neither spirits nor ganja; so I told every one I had none, and no one stayed but you."
"You might have suspected they were after no good," said the Duffadar. "Why did you not give warning here?"
"Ah, sir, I am a poor fellow," returned the man, "with a large family; and if gentlemen sometimes like a private room to smoke, to play, or to talk in, am I to forbid them? Would they not get it elsewhere?"
"True enough—thou art not to blame," said Fazil; "but the papers—what of them?"