“None, Sahib. I watched his hands. They did not shake. Afterward he wiped his face, but he was sweating before from the heat.”
“Did he know? Did he know who the Hajji was?” said the Infant in English.
“I am a poor man. Who can say what a Sahib of that get knows or does not know? But the Hajji is right. The breed should not be lost. It is not very hot for little children in Dupé, and as regards nurses, my sister's cousin at Jull—”
“H'm! That is the boy's own concern. I wonder if his Chief ever knew?” said Strickland.
“Assuredly,” said Imam Din. “On the night before our Sahib went down to the sea, the Great Sahib—the Man with the Stone Eyes—dined with him in his camp, I being in charge of the table. They talked a long while and the Great Sahib said: 'What didst thou think of That One?' (We do not say Ibn Makarrah yonder.) Our Sahib said: 'Which one?' The Great Sahib said: 'That One which taught thy man-eaters to grow cotton for thee. He was in thy District three months to my certain knowledge, and I looked by every runner that thou wouldst send me in his head.' Our Sahib said: 'If his head had been needed, another man should have been appointed to govern my District, for he was my friend.' The Great Sahib laughed and said: 'If I had needed a lesser man in thy place be sure I would have sent him, as, if I had needed the head of That One, be sure I would have sent men to bring it to me. But tell me now, by what means didst thou twist him to thy use and our profit in this cotton-play?' Our Sahib said: 'By God, I did not use that man in any fashion whatever. He was my friend.' The Great Sahib said: 'Toh Vac! (Bosh!) Tell!' Our Sahib shook his head as he does—as he did when a child—and they looked at each other like sword-play men in the ring at a fair. The Great Sahib dropped his eyes first and he said: 'So be it. I should perhaps have answered thus in my youth. No matter. I have made treaty with That One as an ally of the State. Some day he shall tell me the tale.' Then I brought in fresh coffee, and they ceased. But I do not think That One will tell the Great Sahib more than our Sahib told him.”
“Wherefore?” I asked.
“Because they are both Great Ones, and I have observed in my life that Great Ones employ words very little between each other in their dealings; still less when they speak to a third concerning those dealings. Also they profit by silence.... Now I think that the mother has come down from the room, and I will go rub his feet till he sleeps.”
His ears had caught Agnes's step at the stair-head and presently she passed us on her way to the music room humming the Magnificat.
THE NEW KNIGHTHOOD
Who gives him the Bath?
“I,” said the wet,
Rank Jungle-sweat,
“I'll give him the Bath!”
Who'll sing the psalms?
“We,” said the Palms.
“Ere the hot wind becalms,
We'll sing the psalms.”
Who lays on the sword?
“I,” said the Sun,
“Before he has done,
I'll lay on the sword.”
Who fastens his belt?
“I,” said Short-Rations,
“I know all the fashions
Of tightening a belt!”
Who buckles his spur?
“I,” said his Chief,
Exacting and brief,
“I'll give him the spur.”
Who'll shake his hand?
“I,” said the Fever,
“And I'm no deceiver,
I'll shake his hand.”
Who brings him the wine?
“I,” said Quinine,
“It's a habit of mine,
I'll come with his wine.”
Who'll put him to proof?
“I,” said All Earth,
“Whatever he's worth,
I'll put to the proof.”
Who'll choose him for Knight?
“I,” said his Mother,
“Before any other,
My very own knight!”
And after this fashion, adventure to seek,
Was Sir Galahad made—as it might be last week!