"I have told you, noble sir. Thakoor Das, Preym Das is the name of the firm; my name is Toolsee Das—Lalla Toolsee Das, your slave to command. Ask at Kullianee, and the house will be known there. I—I—am a poor man—a stranger; who knows me?" said the Lalla, now whimpering.
"A fool, a liar art thou, throwing away life," returned Gopal Singh. "This is the second time I have warned thee. We know thou art from the royal camp, and a spy to Beejapoor. Speak, else——"
"And the doom of a spy is death; and thou art a liar too, and a coward to boot. Look at him now, Gopala," said his uncle, interrupting and pointing to the man; "look at his coward face."
The Lalla was trembling violently. His knees shook, and his teeth chattered audibly as he shivered. He could not speak, but looked vacantly from one to another. "I am c-o-o-ld—c-o-o-o-ld," he said faintly; "the wet, sirs, and the long travel. Amān, amān! I am only a merchant, let me go."
"Thou art cold! then we will warm thee," cried the chief grimly. "Yet, speak, O Lalla, ere I give the order. We would not hurt thee without cause—otherwise——"
"Ai Narayun! Ai Rámchunder! believe me, I am no spy. I swear by God I am no spy," he replied earnestly.
"Bind him!" cried the chief furiously. "A liar and a spy. Make torches of his fingers! we will soon hear the truth."
[CHAPTER XVI.]
Ere he knew what to do or say, the Lalla was a second time bound with his own shawl; and Lukshmun, tearing a rag into strips, and soaking them in the oil of the lamp, was tying them coolly upon the ends of his fingers, one by one. "I told you, Lallajee," he said, "we are rough people here, and you should be careful. When I light these you will not like the pain, and if you bear that, he will do something worse. When he says 'ch-ck, ch-ck,' you know——"