Courteously he asked Kathlyn how she had become injured and Ramabai
acted as interpreter. He then ushered them into his house, spread rugs
and cushions for them to sit upon and mildly inquired what had brought
the son of his old friend so far.
Colonel Hare spoke several dialects fluently and briefly told (between
sips of tea and bites of cakes which had been set out for the guests)
his experiences in Allaha.
"The rulers of Allaha," observed Bala Khan, "have always been half mad."
Ramabai nodded in agreement.
"You should never have gone back," went on Bala Khan, lighting a
cigarette and eying Kathlyn with wonder and interest. "Ah, that Durga
Ram whom they call Umballa! I have heard of him, but fortunately for
him our paths have not crossed in any way." He blew a cloud of smoke
above his head. "Well, he has shown wisdom in avoiding me. In front
of me, a desert; behind me, verdant hills and many sheep and cattle,
well guarded. I am too far away for them to bother. Sometimes the
desert thieves cause a flurry, but that is nothing. It keeps the
tulwar from growing rusty," patting the great knife at his side.
Bala Khan was muscular; his lean hands denoted work; his clear eyes,
the sun and the wind. He was in height and building something after
the pattern of the colonel.
"And to force a crown on me!" said the colonel.
"You could have given it to this Umballa."
"That I would not do."
"In each case you showed forethought. The Durga Ram, when he had you
where he wanted you----" Bala Khan drew a finger suggestively across
his throat. "Ramabai, son of my friend, I will have many sheep for you
this autumn. What is it to me whether you Hindus eat beef or not?" He
laughed.
"I am not a Hindu in that sense," returned Ramabai. "I have but one
God."
"And Mahomet is His prophet," said the host piously.
"Perhaps. I am a Christian."
Bruce stirred uneasily, but his alarm was without foundation.
"A Christian," mused Bala Khan. "Ah, well; have no fear of me. There
is no Mahdi in these hills. There is but one road to Paradise and
argument does not help us on the way."
Lowly and quickly Pundita translated for Kathlyn so that she might miss
none of the conversation.
"The Colonel Sahib looks worn."
"I am."
"Now, in my travels I have been to Bombay, and there I dressed like you
white people. I have the complete. Perhaps the Colonel Sahib would be
pleased to see if he can wear it? And also the use of my barber?"
"Bala Khan," cried the colonel, "you are a prince indeed! It will
tonic me like medicine. Thanks, thanks!"