rain-mist, a Eurasian lad—for the Lucknow girl's dye was of the best sort—in badly fitting shop-clothes.
'I have spoken with Creighton Sahib,' quoth Mahbub Ali, 'and a second time has the hand of friendship averted the whip of calamity. He says that thou hast altogether wasted sixty days upon the road, and it is too late, therefore, to send thee to any hill-school.'
'I have said that my holidays are my own. I do not go to school twice over. That is one part of my bond.'
'The Colonel Sahib is not yet aware of the contract. Thou art to lodge in Lurgan Sahib's house till it is time to go again to Nucklao.'
'I had sooner lodge with thee, Mahbub.'
'Thou dost not know the honour. Lurgan Sahib himself asked for thee. Thou wilt go up the hill and along the road atop, and there thou must forget for a while that thou hast ever seen or spoken to me, Mahbub Ali, who sells horses to Creighton Sahib, whom thou dost not know. Remember this order.'
Kim nodded. 'Good,' said he, 'and who is Lurgan Sahib? Nay—' he caught Mahbub's sword-keen glance—'indeed I have never heard his name. Is he by chance'—he lowered his voice 'one of us?'
'What talk is this of us, Sahib?' Mahbub Ali returned, in the tone he used toward Europeans. 'I am a Pa than; thou art a Sahib and the son of a Sahib. Lurgan Sahib has a shop among the European shops. All Simla knows it. Ask there . . . and, Friend of all the World, he is a Sahib to be obeyed to the last wink of his eye-lashes. Men say he does magic, but that should not touch thee. Go up the hill and ask. Here begins the great game.'
