‘Surely, for he whom the Gods hold by the heel must pay to the uttermost. The money was paid at evening, all silver, in great carts, and thus Ganesh did his work.’
‘Nathu! Ohe Nathu!’
A woman was calling in the dusk by the door of the courtyard.
The child began to wriggle. ‘That is my mother,’ it said.
‘Go then, littlest,’ answered Gobind; ‘but stay a moment.’
He ripped a generous yard from his patchwork-quilt, put it over the child’s shoulders, and the child ran away.
THE AMIR’S HOMILY
[Footnote: Copyright, 1891, by MacMillan & Co.]
His Royal Highness Abdur Rahman, Amir of Afghanistan, G.C.S.I., and trusted ally of Her Imperial Majesty the Queen of England and Empress of India, is a gentleman for whom all right-thinking people should have a profound regard. Like most other rulers, he governs not as he would but as he can, and the mantle of his authority covers the most turbulent race under the stars. To the Afghan neither life, property, law, nor kingship are sacred when his own lusts prompt him to rebel. He is a thief by instinct, a murderer by heredity and training, and frankly and bestially immoral by all three. None the less he has his own crooked notions of honour, and his character is fascinating to study. On occasion he will fight without reason given till he is hacked in pieces; on other occasions he will refuse to show fight till he is driven into a corner. Herein he is as unaccountable as the gray wolf, who is his blood-brother.