“There’s naught could please me better, your honour.”
“Then be it so, and let me hear a good report of you in the future. Hark ye, sir,” to me, “I thought at first of demanding the restoration of the lady from the Nabob as an indispensable condition of peace, but I en’t so sure now that ’twill be the most prudent plan. Think the matter over, and let me know to-morrow what your judgment is. Till then I will say nothing to any one.”
I bowed and withdrew, feeling a prodigious great surprise that Mr Clive should entertain any doubts on what seemed to me to be a matter of such simplicity; and finding Mr Hastings, who is serving as a volunteer in the European ranks, outside the place, I begged leave to attend him to his quarters, and laid the question before him, showing him the precious paper, though I would not trust it out of my own hands.
“How do you fill up the blanks in this message, sir?” said he. “Not the two latter, which are of slight importance, but the first?”
“Why, with the Nabob’s name, sir. How else? ‘In the power of the wretch Surajah’—sure ’tis as clear as daylight.”
“It’s possible,” said he; “but why not the Nabob or the Soubah? Either term would surely come more readily to the pen. There’s others beside Surajah Dowlah whose names begin with an S, sir. For example, there’s Meer Sinzaun.”
“The renegado?” I cried.
“No other. The fellow, as I have heard, piques himself upon his fine taste, and he might well prefer a European lady to the Moorish wenches. ’Tis but a notion of mine, but if you’ll permit, we’ll ask Captain Labaume and Mr Fisherton, who were well acquainted with the lady, if they know of anything that would argue any truth in it.”
He called his Indian servant, who had remained faithful when his fellows deserted their masters, and gave him an order, while I kept silence, regarding the matter in this new and disagreeable light. Presently Mess. Labaume and Fisherton entered the apartment, the former feigning anger at being summoned.
“I’faith, Mr Hastings, you’re an insolent dog!” he cried. “How dare you send your commands to your superior officer, sir? I was but just sitting down to my dinner when up comes your blackfellow with, ‘Hasteen Siab’s compliments, and will the Captain Siab[09] wait on him immediately?’ Sure you’ll have to learn that you en’t President of Bengal yet.”