“And I am to deliver it? Thou dodderest! Mother of a murrain, have I not trouble sufficient for one man? Who bears bad news to a prince, or to any but his enemy? I—with these two eyes—I saw what happened to the men who bore bad news to Howrah once. I—with this broom of mine—I helped clean up the mess. Deliver thine own message!”
“Nay. Afterward I will say this—to the Jaimihr-sahib in person. There is one, I will tell him, a sweeper in the palace, who refused to bear tidings when the need was great.”
“If his palace is burned and his wealth all ashes, who cares what Jaimihr hears?”
“There is no glow yet in the sky,” said Joanna looking up. “The palace is not yet in flames; they loot still.”
“What if it be not true?”
“Will Jaimihr not be glad?”
“Glad to see me, the bearer of false news, impaled—or crushed beneath an elephant—ay—glad, indeed.”
“The reward, were the Jaimihr-sahib warned in time, would be a great one.”
“Then, why waitest thou not to have word with him. Art thou above rewards?”
“Have no fear! He will know in good time who it was brought thee the news.”