"It is good to see my lord smile," said Salaman, "he is better, and it
makes my heart glad."
"I was laughing," I said, "because the old fakir must be thirstier than
I. All those hot words must have burned his throat."
Salaman smiled, but became solemn again directly.
"Truly his words were hot, my lord," he said.
"Then cut him a big piece of the melon, and give him, before I touch it,
and he thinks it is defiled."
Salaman looked pleased, and obeyed my words, placing the melon in Dost's
lap; but the latter did not move or unclose his eyes, but sat there
perfectly motionless, with the piece of the fruit in his lap, while I
partook of mine, which was delicious in the extreme, and I enjoyed it as
I saw how completely the people about me were deceived.
Salaman and the bearer stood humbly close at hand till I had finished,
and then took plate and tray with the remains of the melon.
"Will my lord return to the tent?" asked Salaman.
"Oh, I don't know," I said indifferently.
"But my lord might be sleeping when the holy man comes back to himself.
You see, he is not there now. It is only his body."
"How these old impostors of fakirs do deceive the people," I thought, as
I glanced at Dost; then aloud--
"Well, suppose I were sleeping?"
"The holy man might harm my lord."
"Not he," I said, in a voice full of contempt. "Words do no harm
whatsoever."
Salaman bowed and went his way, and I took up a palm-leaf fan, and began
to use it, not as a wafter of cool wind, but as a screen to hide my face
when I spoke to Dost, and from behind which I could keep an eye on the
tents, and see when any one was coming.
As soon as I gave him a signal, Dost began again, but without stirring a
muscle; in fact, so rigid did he look that it would have puzzled any one
to make out whence the low muffled voice came with such a peculiar
whispered hiss, caused by its passing through the thick beard which
muffled his lips.
"You understand, sahib," he said. "I shall be gone before morning, and
if you do not hear anything, be not afraid, for if I get safely to the
captain sahib, he will be making plans to come and save you as soon as
he can."
"Tell me one thing," I said quickly. "What about Major Lacey?"
"Ah! at Rajgunge, sahib. I do not know. I was not able to go there
again, but he will be well. Those with whom he was placed would not let
him come to harm."
"And Sergeant Craig?"
"His wounds were healing fast, sahib. But now listen. When I come back
to you to get you away to your friends, who will be waiting close by, I
shall let you know I am there by making a hiss like a snake--so--in a
quick way, twice."
He gave the imitation, but so softly that it could not have been heard.
"Now," he said, "go, and take no more notice of me. If the servants
suspect anything, my work must be begun all over again, and it is hard
to deceive them."
"But have you nothing more to say?"
"Nothing, sahib; there is no time, and this is not the place. Be
patient, and grow strong. The captain sahib will save you, and all will
be well. Go."
I hesitated for a few minutes, being reluctant to leave, but satisfied
at last that Dost's advice was right, and that I must wait patiently for
my release, I covered my face with the great palm fan, and said in a low
tone--
"Mind and tell Captain Brace that the rajah may have taken me to his
city."
"Yes, yes; but go, sahib, pray. I must wake up now. It is too hot here
to bear it much longer."
In spite of my trouble, I wanted to laugh, but I managed to control it,
and rising slowly, I said in a low voice--
"Good-bye, old friend. I trust you, for you are a true, brave man.
Tell Captain Brace I will be patient, and that I am nearly well."
I could say no more, but sauntered slowly away under the shade of the
trees, to find that my guards sprang into sight, ready to follow me, the
first one so near that I was startled. I had not known of his
proximity, and I trembled for Dost's safety. This man might have heard
us talking, and he would of course repeat it to his head.
But I could only go on hoping and trying to be patient, and when at last
I slowly started back to the tent, and glanced over toward the divan, my
excitement increased, for the fakir was no longer seated in the hot
sunshine.
Where was he? Back in his place by the great tree, or a captive taken
away and condemned at once as a spy?
I could not tell; I must wait, and my brain was so active that my fears
hourly increased.