The Khansama managed to crawl up to the verandah again, and stood before his master, trembling with fear. With folded hands he said—"Huzoor,—I did buy bilati biscuits at first—but—"
"You did,—did you? What happened to them?"
"But Huzoor—The school-boys—" The Khansama thought he had much better bid good bye to his eight annas and confess that the boys had misled him into the belief that deshi biscuits were superior in quality and cheaper at the same time, so he bought them. He would however never do so again, &c., &c. But his master, burning with anger, interrupted him, saying—"What, the school-boys? Bande Mataram? They snatched your tin away—did they?"
The Khansama quickly changed his mind, thinking that this was by far the best way out of the difficulty. So he replied, bowing low,—"Yes, Huzoor—they snatched my bilati tin away."
"Why did you let them?"
"What could I do, Khodawund? I was alone and they were twenty or twenty-five against me."
The Sahib thought that things had happened exactly as he had been reading of late in the newspapers.
