'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 waggon. Thou art a casteless Hindi—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 venture—'I have heard'
'What hast thou heard?' she snapped, rapping with the finger.
'Nothing that I well remember, but some talk in the bazars, which is doubtless a lie, that even Rajahs—small hill Rajahs'
'But none the less of good Rajput blood.'
'Assuredly of good blood. That these even sell the more comely of their women folk for gain. Down south they sell them—to zemindars and such-all of Oudh.'
If there is one thing in the world that the small hill Rajahs deny it is just this charge; but it happens to be one thing that the bazars believe, when they discuss the mysterious slave-traffics of India. The old lady explained to Kim, in a tense, indignant whisper, precisely what manner and fashion of malignant liar he was. Had Kim hinted this when she was a girl, he would have been pommelled to death that same evening by an elephant. This was perfectly true.
'Ahai! I am only a beggar's brat, as the Eye of Beauty has said,' he wailed in extravagant terror.
'Eye of Beauty, forsooth! Who am I that thou should fling beggar endearments at me?' And yet she laughed at the long-
