"Good! Go, Maun Singh. I shall be quieter when you return," replied the chief. "Ah, yes! we were once the same, brother. We could not be stopped either," he said more gently, "if we had anything to do."
"The hunchbacks are with him, and they are all on foot, brother," returned Maun Singh: "fear not; but if thou art restless, give me some fresh men and a fresh horse, and we will ride round the villages."
"No; go home—go home. No; let him hunt his own game," returned the chief.
"But about the money? Déo Rao wants to get home now, for he is starving," interposed the Karkoon.
"Let him go then!" exclaimed the chief tartly.
"No, he can't go till it is counted," retorted Amrut Rao.
"It need not be counted."
"It must be counted, Maharaj! If there is a rupee wrong we shall never hear the last of it. The bags have never been opened—who knows what is in them?"
"It may be gold, Amrut Rao. Come, who knows? yes, who knows? Come," exclaimed Pahar Singh excitedly.
Few could take the liberties in speech with the chief that were permitted to Amrut Rao, and even he was not always successful; but now the Suraffs, or money-changers, sent for had arrived, and Pahar Singh watched the opening of every bag with an almost childish curiosity. All anxiety for his nephew had departed before the sight of money. Yet Gopal Singh was the life and stay of the house; precious as Pahar Singh's heir, and more so as the husband of his daughter, who was as yet a child.