“They are also Franks,” answered Faizi, “though not quite the same as the others. They are English,[1] who seek to drive out the Portuguese, but with little success; however, they are well received by our Emperor and our great people.”
A few years later, Faizi would have been able to point out others among these visitors from the West, who, though also included under the name of Franks, yet were quite different. He could have pointed to the robust and somewhat plump figures and good-humoured faces of Hollander and Zeelander, who, under Pieter van der Broeche,[2] came to seek their own fortunes and those of their masters the Directors of the East India Company. For long years they were considered both by English and Portuguese as their most formidable rivals in the markets of Hindustan, and as men who knew how to sustain the fame of the flag of the Netherlands in the Indian waters against the Gijs, or “Gijsooms” as they mockingly, though not very grammatically, named their arch enemies. But their time was not then come.
As the two Englishmen passed by, Siddha looked at them with a curiosity which, though perhaps natural, at first seeing such strangers, yet was far from courteous; but Siddha felt—although he had heard nothing of these people—very little respect for them, and even Faizi seemed to consider them hardly worthy of a glance.
“Cursed proud Moors!” muttered one of these sons of Albion in his own tongue as he passed. Had these men, the haughty Indians and half-despised English, been able to cast one single look into the future, and could the former have guessed that the descendants of the latter would one day rule over their people and country, they would certainly have observed them with more attention. With still closer interest would they have gazed, if anyone had told them that these strangers sprang from the same race, and stood nearer to Siddha than many of his friends whose origin was from the Semitic race.
“The visits of all these strangers,” said Faizi, “do us no harm; on the contrary they give fresh impulse to our trade and various industries; and from them also we have many good painters and other artists. Then we have learnt much from them respecting their own countries. Still they must not attempt to play the master here, which appears to be rather according to their tastes.”
“Then surely we should show them the door,” said Siddha.
“That would soon happen, I can assure you. But now for another subject. Have you tried my bay that we spoke of the other day?”
“Indeed I have,” answered Siddha, “and with the greatest pleasure; it is a magnificent animal.” And he broke out with praises of Faizi’s horse.
“You are pleased with him, then?” he answered. “I will send him to your stables; you can keep him if you will; and in the coming campaign he will be of use to you. Your grey is a beautiful horse and well broke, but scarcely strong enough; and the bay is uncommonly so. I ride him but seldom, for I must confess I have become rather lazy and prefer a quieter animal.”
“But,” said Siddha, overcome at such goodness, “this is indeed a costly present, which I have not deserved. Your bay is a splendid thoroughbred Arab, such as I have never before ridden.”