‘I beg to represent,’ said Kishun Rao, ‘that your slave hath learned with grief of the peculation which has been discovered in the department of the paymaster, from the false accounts of the risalas and the infantry, and was about making a report upon the subject; but enough; here is one culprit, let him smart for it, and the rest will be more careful.’
‘Not so! Rao Sahib,’ said the Sultaun; ‘not so; this man we will pardon, because we have the memory of many of his services in our heart, where, Shookr Khoda! the services of each man of our invincible army is treasured up; this time we will spare his fame. Dost thou hear?’ he cried to Jaffar Sahib; ‘thou art free to go, and we shall desire Abdool Rhyman Khan to suspend his proceedings; but thou shalt pay to our treasurer two thousand hoons[[50]] by to-morrow at this time, if not, it will be worse for thee.’
[50]. A hoon is about four rupees.
‘I call the Prophet to witness,’ cried Jaffar Sahib, ‘I have not half the quarter of that sum; five hundred I might perhaps—’
‘Peace!’ exclaimed the Sultaun; ‘how darest thou to swear to a lie in the presence of the friend of the Apostle? I have spoken.’
‘I have it not—where am I to find such a sum?’
‘In hell!’ roared the Sultaun, ‘where I will send thee to seek it, if thou delayest one moment beyond the time. Begone! Look thou to this, Kishun Rao—we have spoken, and we will be obeyed; we shall expect thy report punctually.’
Jaffar Sahib silently made his obeisance, and retired burning with shame and anger, and renewed threats against Kasim, the author of all. Alone he could have borne the Sultaun’s irony and bitter words, but that others should know of his detection and disgrace was more than he could endure. He did not wait to speak to those in the ante-chamber, but hurried at once to his temporary lodging in the bazaar.