“I am told to offer you many thousands of rupees to let her go.”
“His Highness will give me more for keeping her.”
“Then will nothing tempt you?”
“Not ten corores of rupees. Not all the treasure that the accursed Holwell has buried and won’t give up. The woman goes to Muxadabad.”
“I feared it was useless, Saeb,” says Omychund aside to Mr Cooke. “This is an extraordinary resolved villain. If only the chance of last night had not been lost!”
“But sure they won’t have the inhumanity to carry the poor lady away without one of her own sex to attend upon her?”
“Ah, in that I can help you, Saeb. As it chanced, there met me in coming hither a worthy woman that asked alms of me, whom I had known in more prosperous days. She had served several European ladies as a waiting-woman, and saved enough to set up a small shop in the Great Buzar. This was plundered and burnt last week, and she is reduced to penury. I will send one of my servants to call her, and she shall wait on the lady to Muxadabad.”
“But sure she won’t adventure herself into the enemy’s stronghold?”
“Indeed, Saeb, the prospect of gaining a position in his Highness’s household will transport her with joy.”
“Well, I hope she’s to be trusted. Pray, Omychund, present her with ten rupees from me, and bid her be good to her mistress.”