‘Ay, listen,’ said the other; ‘Mashalla! it is worth hearing.’
‘Of the Khan? most wonderful! Is he dead?—have ye all his money?’
‘No!’ ejaculated Kummoo passionately; ‘it would be well for us and him if he were dead. Dead! no, he is returned, and well.’
‘Well!’ said the old lady, apparently relieved, ‘there is nothing very wonderful in this—nothing particular to marvel at, that I see; if I had known I was to have been called from home only to hear this, I can tell you, you would have waited long. I had a thousand things to do when Kulloo came for me; I was going to cook a dish, and then I had the woman with bangles for my arms, and then the silversmith was coming, and—’
‘Alla! Alla! how shall I tell this shame?’ cried her daughter, interrupting her; ‘how shall I utter the words, to make it fit for thee to hear or my tongue to utter? Alas! mother, he has returned, and brought a woman with him,—a woman who, Inshalla! is vile and ugly, and unchaste, and low-born, and who—’
‘Punah-i-Khoda, a woman! thou didst not say a woman! Another wife?’ cried the old lady, interrupting the torrent of foul names, which, once the subject of them had been named, followed rapidly enough.
‘So he says, mother,’ cried Hoormut, ‘another wife. He dared not write this to either of us; he dared not tell us how he had misused us, how he had cheated us; he dared not tell us this; and we heard it only from my cousin, who discovered it at Nundidroog, and wrote to the family.’
‘I will throw ashes on his beard—I will fill his mouth with earth! I will spit on him!’ cried the old lady, who, having looked from the one to the other, was now excited to fury at this sudden intelligence; ‘Ya Alla Kereem! What dirt has he not eaten? What abomination have ye also to bear, O my daughters? Married again? another wife? a young one, I’ll warrant, the old lecher! Oh shame, shame on his grey hairs! may dogs defile them! And beautiful, too, I have no doubt! Is there no law? is there no justice? Inshalla! we will see to that. Is he to throw dirt on the family of the chief Kazee, and cause his daughter to eat grief? is he to mock us, to cheat us, to bring his vile women before our very faces, without we turn and strike again? Are we cows and sheep? Inshalla, no! but persons of good family, of a hundred descents; while he—pah! he is a poor, pitiful, low-born, ill-bred wretch!’ And she paused, fairly exhausted from want of breath.
‘Ay, mother,’ said Kummoo-bee, ‘and what is more, he has threatened to bring her here to-night—here, into this very house—to make us see her and welcome her—pah! I could cry with passion.’
‘Here? it is a lie!’ roared the old lady; ‘it is a lie! this is some trick of yours, or joke; I will not believe that. Is he mad to do it?’