"Take him away to the house, and let them feed him; the women will have something good, I dare say," replied the Patel. "Go and see."
"And no one has passed since morning?"
"Not a creature. It is not weather to send the dogs out; and the mud from Kulmus to Kinny and hitherwards will be hopeless. No, he won't come to-day; but go and eat, friend—go and eat."
"If I am wanted," said Lukshmun.
"Jee, jee! Ay, ay! I will not forget you. Go!"
"What does he want out such a day as this?" asked the Putwari. "What has Pahar Singh in hand just now?"
"What does it matter to us, Rao Sahib?" returned the Patel; "all we have to do is to keep his people in good humour, to save our cattle from being harried, our stacks from being burned, and our people," he added, looking round at the farmers and their wives, "from being robbed when they come from market? That is worth what we pay him. Should we have got the crops off that disputed land at Chitli if he had not sent those spearmen?"
"No, no; do not interfere," said a chorus of farmers' voices, who, in those unsettled times, might, unless their village were known to be under the protection of some local chieftain, at any time have their flocks and herds swept away by the people of a more powerful village, or by any of the independent gentry, or barons, as we may call them, of the country. "What have we to do with state affairs, or with Pahar Singh either?"
So the assembly having voted non-interference with whatever might be in hand, our friend Lukshmun was allowed to get his meal in peace. Smoking—the impossibility of getting anything—and a tight waist-band, had kept appetite down as yet; but with the Patel's kitchen in prospect, it rose fiercely for the occasion as he approached the house.
Lukshmun washed his feet and hands before he entered and sat down. O, what a smell of fried onions there was! and, as a girl set before him a pile of hot, well-buttered jowaree cakes, a cup full of "char," or pepper-water with tamarind in it, a fresh leaf full of a savoury stew of vegetables of all kinds, and some dall or pease-pudding, well-seasoned with red pepper and garlic, Lukshmun's heart expanded, and he set to work with a good will. Every now and then a woman at the fireplace asked him if he would have more, and it was brought him from the pan, smoking hot. Lukshmun dallied with each morsel as he ate; and when even reduced by repletion to licking his fingers, grudged the summons brought by a man that he was to come.