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Updated: May 17, 2025
It was Higli no, Digli Sahib accursed be the day I first saw him." Desmond drew a long breath. "And what became of the bibi and the chota bibi?" "They were taken away." "Whither?" "I do not know." The answer was glib; Desmond thought a little too glib. "Why then, khansaman," he said, "I fear it would be vain for me to reason with the man I spoke of.
"Allah is good!" he said. It is rented from him by Digli Sahib, who is a great friend of his Excellency." "Well, khansaman, you will show me the way to the house." But the khansaman appeared to have donned, with his clothes, a sense of his own importance. The authoritative tone of the lascar offended his dignity. "Who are you, scum of the sea, that you tell a khansaman of Bengal what he shall do?
The very words form a music, and that music is Metastasio's, "Placido zeffiretto, Se trovi il caro oggetto, Digli che sei sospiro Ma non gli dir di chi, Limpido ruscelletto, Se mai t'incontri in lei, Digli che pianto sei, Ma non le dir qual' eiglio Crescer ti fe cosi." "And now, Emily! for my parting tribute if I remember right, it was sorrowful enough."
A vicious kick cut short his protestations, and the two passed out of hearing of the two watchers above, the khansaman having brought his quivering flabbiness to Desmond's side. Diggle passed into the entrance hall, the native horsemen waiting like statues at the gate. "It is the sahib!" whispered the shaking khansaman to Desmond: "Digli Sahib. He will kill me. He is a tiger."
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