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Updated: May 25, 2025
"Lack of decision? I see, and you told the youth this?" Grieved surprise was in Somwar Mal's tone. "I, sahib? I told him that the besetting sin of the Protector of the Poor was a hasty judgment in sometimes acting without thought!" "Oh, go away, you old humbug!" shouted Gerrard violently, and Somwar Mal retired proudly smiling, while his employer laughed undisturbed.
The Rani's patriotic anxiety would have appealed to Gerrard more strongly than it did had there not penetrated to him, among the bits of palace gossip which Munshi Somwar Mal contrived to pick up for his employer's benefit, the news that she was determined to secure the fief for the brother of one of her favourite attendants, and had gone so far as to promise it to him secretly.
"Why, the truth, of course!" said Gerrard impatiently. "It is an order," said Somwar Mal, and salaamed himself out. His employer thought no more about him until just before bedtime, when the Munshi, his face beaming with modest gratification, sought another interview. "This slave was not mistaken, sahib.
Well has Antni Sahib done in sending one like you, since he could not come himself!" Commandant. "Here are ten rupees for you, Somwar Mal. You did me good service to-day," said Gerrard to his Munshi, who salaamed to the very ground. "May the Protector of the Poor continue to be as a spreading tree, under whose branches this slave and all his house may find shelter!" he said devoutly.
A second time the pleasing sense of proving Somwar Mat a false prophet came over Gerrard as he jerked his horse violently to the right, where an irrigation channel, leading from the swamp, crossed his course.
It is in my mind that the Rajah Partab Singh and his son are about to visit the camp. And very great was the wonder of the young man that your honour could so well have hoodwinked his master." "O Somwar Mal, you are a spoil-sport!" cried Gerrard. "Do you not see that all the hospitality I showed to the Rajah all my faithfulness to my guests now goes for nothing?"
In these circumstances, all that Gerrard could do was to leave the paper for her consideration, with the most persuasive letter that he and Munshi Somwar Mal could frame in collaboration, and announce that he hoped to find her Highness in a better mind when he returned in three or four days' time.
The two retainers, uttering cries of horror as they rode towards the fray, were hopelessly distant, and there was no one else at hand. Two things associated themselves in Gerrard's mind, without any volition on his part the blood-stained spear in his hand and Kharrak Singh's broad golden belt, and some vague association with Somwar Mal was present as well.
Gerrard fell in with the humour of the occasion. "And of course you swore that I had none?" Somwar Mal hung his head. "Alas, sahib! your honour bade me tell him the truth." "You are right, Munshi-ji. Truth is great, and shall prevail. And which of my hidden faults have you discovered to the eyes of the world?" "Sahib, your honour's credit is safe in the hands of your slave.
Orders for an early start had already been issued, and when he wished to note down one or two things that had occurred during the day, his canteen served for a seat and a camel-trunk set on end for a table, Munshi Somwar Mal lending ink and a reed pen.
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