“I’ve told you what they mean to do to the General. For his army, they swear they have men enough to drive it into the river, without drawin’ a sword—just pushing. Then cut the throats of every English man, woman, and child left in Khemistan. That’s what they mean to do.”
“But you can’t stay with them! Come here to us.”
“No, ma’am, I’ve made my bed and I must lie on it. Make the Beebee understand that I am a poor man, and cannot possibly sell at the price she offers,” he went on whiningly as Ketty came up. “Why must I be ruined because I cannot afford a shop in the Bazar?”
The invitation to bargain roused Ketty’s keenest instincts. Metaphorically she shouldered her mistress out of the fray, and fell upon the unhappy bangle-seller tooth and nail. She brought him down from annas to pice, and then pice by pice until he declared truly—though she naturally thought it was falsely—that his wares had cost him more to buy. Then she suddenly reflected that the Madam-sahib’s wealth and importance would suffer in the estimation of the servant people if she was known to drive too keen a bargain, and with a royal air accepted on her behalf his last offer, informing him unkindly that it was in consideration of his obvious wretchedness. Eveleen, standing by and fuming, had to curb her impatience still further and bid the pedlar follow her to a spot commanding a nearer view of the stables, whence she watched him fitting the bangles to the arms of the recipients, and received their grateful salams, and then only was she free to return to the house, and burst in upon Richard with her news. It was just as well he was not the serious invalid she had wished to make him, for she could not possibly have kept her story in any longer, and he had to remind her—as soon as he was able to understand what she was driving at—that the source of the warning must remain a secret. This had not occurred to her, and she was so much shocked at her own carelessness that she consented—though sorely against the grain—to postpone warning Colonel Bayard until he came of his own accord to smoke a cigar with Richard. To send for him would have aroused suspicion as readily as to go to speak to him in his office and ask that the native clerks might be sent out of hearing, and the delay had also the advantage of allowing Tom Carthew time to get back to the city before suspicion could be aroused.
But it was very hard to wait, and when Colonel Bayard came at last, his reception of the great news was disappointing in the extreme. At first it seemed as if he would not believe it at all.
“There’s no likelihood whatever of Khair Husain’s offering to send troops to protect the Agency,” he said. “It would be a gross insult, and he wouldn’t dream of it.”
“But why should the Daroga suggest such a thing unless it had been discussed?” asked Richard, for his wife was too much taken aback to remonstrate.
“The man wants to safeguard his own neck, of course. He thinks, very naturally, that Sir Henry is determined to destroy the Khans, and is afraid he will suffer for being mixed up with them. So he tries to establish a claim on our gratitude in advance by making up this tale.”
“But sure he was risking his life by coming to warn us!” cried Eveleen, with flashing eyes. “Would you take no notice of what he said?”
“Happily,” said Richard, in his coolest tones, “we shall be able to test his truthfulness very shortly. If Khair Husain does offer to send troops, the warning is confirmed.”