he old woman cried.

The hillman drew back to the cart and whispered something to the
curtain. There was dead silence, then a muttering.

'This goes well,' thought Kim, pretending neither to see nor hear.

'When--when--he has eaten'--the hillman fawned on Kim--'it--it is
requested that the Holy One will do the honour to talk to one who would
speak to him.'

'After he has eaten he will sleep,' Kim returned loftily. He could not
quite see what new turn the game had taken, but stood resolute to
profit by it. 'Now I will get him his food.' The last sentence,
spoken loudly, ended with a sigh as of faintness.

'I--I myself and the others of my people will look to that--if it is
permitted.'

'It is permitted,' said Kim, more loftily than ever. 'Holy One, these
people will bring us food.'

'The land is good. All the country of the South is good--a great and a
terrible world,' mumbled the lama drowsily.

'Let him sleep,' said Kim, 'but look to it that we are well fed when he
wakes. He is a very holy man.'

Again one of the Ooryas said something contemptuously.

'He is not a fakir. He is not a down-country beggar,' Kim went on
severely, addressing the stars. 'He is the most holy of holy men. He
is above all castes. I am his chela.'

'Come here!' said the flat thin voice behind the curtain; and Kim
came, conscious that eyes he could not see were staring at him. One
skinny brown finger heavy with rings lay on the edge of the cart, and
the talk went this way:

'Who is that one?'

'An exceedingly holy one. He comes from far off. He comes from Tibet.'

'Where in Tibet?'

'From behind the snows--from a very far place. He knows the stars; he
makes horoscopes; he reads nativities. But he does not do this for
money. He does it for kindness and great charity. I am his disciple.
I am called also the Friend of the Stars.'

'Thou art no hillman.'

'Ask him. He will tell thee I was sent to him from the Stars to show
him an end to his pilgrimage.'

'Humph! Consider, brat, that I am an old woman and not altogether a
fool. Lamas I know, and to these I give reverence, but thou art no
more a lawful chela than this my finger is the pole of this wagon. Thou
art a casteless Hindu--a bold and unblushing beggar, attached, belike,
to the Holy One for the sake of gain.'

'Do we not all work for gain?' Kim changed his tone promptly to match
that altered voice. 'I have heard'--this was a bow drawn at a
ventur