oping the horseman would be gone, that he heard Tooni's
wonderful news. Before she gave him water or oil, or even a
chupatty, Tooni told him, holding his hand in hers.

'The Maharajah has sent for you, O noonday kite; where have you
been in the sun? The Maharajah has sent for you, lotus-eyed one,
and I, though I am grown too old for journeys, must go also to the
palace of the Maharajah! Oh, it is very far, and I know not what
he desires, the Maharajah! My heart is split in two, little Sahib!
This khaber is the cat's moon to me. I will never sleep again!'

Then for some reason the fear went out of Sonny Sahib. 'Am I not
going with you, Tooni-ji?' said he, which was his way of saying
'dear Tooni.' 'There is no cause for fear. And will it not be
very beautiful, the palace of the Maharajah? Sumpsi Din says that
it is built of gold and silver. And now I should like six
chupatties, and some milk and some fried brinjal, like yesterday's,
only more, Tooni-ji.'

CHAPTER IV

The palace of the Maharajah at Lalpore was not exactly built of
gold and silver; but if it had been, Sonny Sahib could hardly have
thought it a finer place. It had a wall all round it, even on the
side where the river ran, and inside the wall were courts and
gardens with fountains and roses in them, divided by other walls,
and pillared verandahs, where little green lizards ran about in the
sun, and a great many stables, where the Maharajah's horses pawed
and champed to be let out and ridden. The palace itself was a
whole story higher than the stables, and consisted of a wilderness
of little halls with grated windows. It smelt rather too strong of
attar of roses in there--the Maharajah was fond of attar of roses--but
the decorations on the whitewashed walls, in red and yellow,
were very wonderful indeed. The courtyards and the verandahs were
full of people, soldiers, syces, merchants with their packs,
sweetmeat sellers, barbers; only the gardens were empty. Sonny
Sahib thought that if he lived in the palace he would stay always
in the gardens, watching the red-spotted fish in the fountains, and
gathering the roses; but the people who did live there seemed to
prefer smoking long bubbling pipes in company, or disputing over
their bargains, or sleeping by the hour in the shade of the
courtyard walls. There were no women anywhere; but if Sonny Sahib
had possessed the ears or the eyes of the country, he might have
heard many swishings