The palanquin reeled off, followed by straggling torches and a horde of dogs. Twenty villages knew the Sahiba—her failings, her tongue, and her large charity. Twenty villages cheated her after immemorial custom, but no man would have stolen or robbed within her jurisdiction for any gift under Heaven. None the less, she made great parade of her formal inspections, the riot of which could be heard half-way to Mussoorie.
Kim relaxed, as one augur must when he meets another. The hakim, still squatting, slid over his hookah with a friendly foot, and Kim pulled at the good weed. The hangers-on expected grave professional debate, and perhaps a little free doctoring.
'To discuss medicine before the ignorant is of one piece with teaching the peacock to sing, ' said the hakim.
'True courtesy,' Kim echoed, 'is very often inattention.'
These, be it understood, were company manners, designed to impress.
'Hi! I have an ulcer on my leg,' cried a scullion. 'Look at it.'
'Get hence! Remove!' said the hakim. 'Is it the habit of the place to pester honoured guests? Ye crowd in like buffaloes.'
'If the Sahiba knew' Kim began.
'Ai! Ai! Come away. They are meat for our mistress. When her young Shaitan's colics are cured perhaps we poor people may be suffered to'
'The mistress fed thy wife when thou wast in jail for breaking the money-lender's head. Who speaks against her?' The old servitor curled his white moustaches savagely in the young moonlight. 'I am responsible for the honour of this house. Go!' and he drove the underlings before him.
Said the hakim, hardly more than shaping the words with lips: 'How do you do, Mr. O'Hara? I am jolly glad to see you again.'
