ld not be
safe for a moment; or you might be thrown into some dungeon, where
you would perish miserably."

She then explained to him why she had not attempted to take him
down to Bombay, and restore him to his countrymen. She had always
hoped the time would come when she could do so but, until he grew
up to manhood, it was necessary that he should stay with her; for,
being without friends in Bombay he would, as a boy, be unable to
earn his living.

The boy was greatly affected at the news. There were things that he
had never been able to understand; especially why Soyera should
consider it necessary to wash him with dye so often, when neither
his cousins nor the other children of his acquaintance were so
treated--as far as he knew, for as he had been strictly charged
never to speak of the process, which he considered an infliction,
he had never asked questions of others. He had never, therefore,
for a moment suspected that he was not like those around him. He
knew that he was stronger than other boys of his own age; more fond
of exercise, and leader in all their games; but he had accepted
this as a natural accident. The fact that he belonged to the race
that were masters of southern India, and had conquered and slain
the Nabob of Bengal, was a gratification to him but, at present,
the thought that he might some day have to join them, and leave all
those he loved behind, far overpowered this feeling.

"I shall never become English, if you do not go with me," he said.
"You saved my life, and have been a mother to me. Why should I go
away from your side, to people that I know nothing of, whose ways
would be all strange to me?"

"It is right that you should do so, Puntojee--I will not call you
by your proper name, Harry Lindsay, lest it should slip out before
others. Your life should be spent among your own people; who, I
think, will some day rule over all India. They are a great people,
with learning of many things unknown here, from whom I always
received the greatest kindness. They are not, like the Mahrattas,
always quarrelling among themselves; they are not deceitful, and
they are honourable. You should be proud to belong to them, and I
have no doubt some day you will be so; though at present it is
natural that, knowing no place but this, you should not like the
thought of leaving."

Harry Lindsay, whose spirits had hitherto been almost
inexhaustible, and who had never been happy when sitting quiet, was
greatl