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Updated: June 14, 2025
He ran to the parapet and watched in the fading light a little dust cloud that followed no visible track but headed straight toward them over desert. "How d'you know that's Mahommed Gunga?" he demanded. "Who else, huzoor? Who else would ride from that direction all alone and straight for this nest of wasps? Who else but Alwa or Mahommed Gunga? Alwa said he would not come, but would wait yonder."
I may return with the morning, but it may be that I shall be late." "Inshallah, Huzoor," murmured Shiraz, bowing his head, "what is the will of the Master?" "A rich man is marked among his kind; where he goes the eyes of all men turn to follow his steps, but the poor man is as a grain of sand in the dust-storm of a Northern Province.
The old Hindu raised his hand and bowed his forehead into the palm. "Huzoor, he is a holy man, a stranger who has lately come to Lahore, but the holiest of all the holy men who have ever sat by the Delhi Gate. His fame is already great." "But why does he sit covered with the blanket?" asked Shere Ali. "Huzoor, because of his holiness. He is so holy that his face must not be seen."
Surely, Huzoor, if they can steal the rifles from the middle of a camp, they can steal a weak girl among the hills." Ahmed Ismail waited in suspense, with his forehead bowed to the ground, and when the answer came he smiled. He had made good use of this unexpected inducement which had been given to him. He knew very well that nothing but an unlikely chance would enable him to fulfil his promise.
Ahmed Ismail watched the light grow in Shere Ali's eyes, and a smile crept into his face, too. "Huzoor, Huzoor," he said, in a whisper of delight. He knew very well what had happened in Cawnpore, though he knew nothing of the month or the day, and cared little in what year it had happened. "There were 206 women and children, English women, English children, shut up in the Bibigarh.
Yea, my brother was even fairer than I, who, as the Huzoor knoweth, have grey eyes, and hair and beard that are not darkly brown. Baby. "So my father began to make journeys to Kot Ghazi to visit the woman his first wife, and the boy his first-born. "And what part of that is the name of his mother's father?"
Each mahout carried a gun, one a heavy rifle, the other a double-barrelled fowling-piece, which they offered to Wargrave. "Huzoor!" "Oh, the Political Officer. Very kind of him, I'm sure," remarked the subaltern. "What is his name?" "Durro-Mut Sahib." "What a curious name!" thought Frank. For in the vernacular "durro mut!" means, "Do not be afraid!" He concluded that it was a nickname.
The next day, and the third day, he drilled the garrison again, growing horribly impatient and hourly more worried as to what Byng-bahadur might be doing, and thinking of him. It was evening of the fourth day when a Rangar woke him, squeezing at his foot and standing silent by the cot. "Huzoor Mahommed Gunga comes!" "Thank God!"
"Aye, that I knew of course, Huzoor. How can I deceive thee? But thee I knew not; though the elephant Shiva-ji did, even in his madness. It is not my fault. I am not of this country. I am a man of the Punjaub. I know naught of the gods of Bengal."
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