“Give her water!” he commanded.
He sat and watched her while she knelt, face upward, and a Rangar poured lukewarm water from a bottle down her tortured throat. He held it high and let the water splash, for fear his dignity might suffer should he or the bottle touch her. Strictly speaking, Rangars have no caste, but they retain by instinct and tradition many of the Hindoo prejudices. Alwa himself saw nothing to object to in the man's precaution.
“Ask the old crows' meat whither she was running.”
“She says she would find the Alwa-sahib.”
“Tell her I am he.”
Joanna fawned and laid her wrinkled forehead in the dust.
“Get up!” he growled. “Thy service is dishonor and my ears are deaf to it! Now, speak! Hast thou a message? Who is it sends a rat to bring me news?”
“Ali Partab.”
“Soho! And who is Ali Partab? He needs to learn manners. He has come to a stern school for them!”
“Sahib—great one—Prince of swordsmen!—Ali Partab is Mahommed Gunga-sahib's man. He bid me say that he is held a prisoner in a bear-cage in Jaimihr's palace and needs aid.”