he
generally go so quickly?"

"Yes, more or less. Now I will show you some pretty sport." He rose to
his feet and went to the door. "Narain!" he cried. Narain, the bearer,
who was squatting against the door-post outside, sprang up and stood
before his master. "Narain, why did you not show that pundit the way
downstairs? What do you mean? have you no manners?"

Narain stood open mouthed. "What pundit, sahib?" he asked.

"Why, the pundit who came a quarter of an hour ago, you donkey! He has
just gone out, and you did not even get up and make a salaam, you
impertinent vagabond!" Narain protested that no pundit, or sahib, or any
one else, had passed the threshold since Ram Lal had entered. "Ha! you
_budmash_. You lazy dog of a Hindoo! you have been asleep again, you
swine, you son of a pig, you father of piglings! Is that the way you do
your work in my service?" Isaacs was enjoying the joke in a quiet way
immensely.

"Sahib," said the trembling Narain, apparently forgetting the genealogy
his master had thrust upon him, "Sahib, you are protector of the poor,
you are my father and my mother, and my brother, and all my relations,"
the common form of Hindoo supplication, "but, Sri Krishnaji! by the
blessed Krishna, I have not slept a wink."

"Then I suppose you mean me to believe that the pundit went through the
ceiling, or is hidden under the cushions. Swear not by your false idols,
slave; I shall not believe you for that, you dog of an unbeliever, you
soor-be-iman, you swine without faith!"

"Han, sahib, han!" cried Narain, seizing at the idea that the pundit had
disappeared mysteriously through the walls. "Yes, sahib, the pundit is a
great yogi, and has made the winds carry him off." The fellow thought
this was a bright idea, not by any means beneath consideration. Isaacs
appeared somewhat pacified.

"What makes you think he is a yogi, dog?" he inquired in a milder tone.
Narain had no answer ready, but stood looking rather stupidly through
the door at the room whence the unearthly visitor had so suddenly
disappeared. "Well," continued Isaacs, "you are more nearly right than
you imagine. The pundit is a bigger yogi than any your idiotic religion
can produce. Never mind, there is an eight anna bit for you, because I
said you were asleep when you were not." Narain bent to the ground in
thanks, as his master turned on his heel. "Not that he minds being told
that he is a pig, in the least," said Isaacs. "I would not call