“Thou art beyond question an unbeliever, and therefore thou wilt be damned. So says my Law—or I think it does. But thou art also my Little Friend of all the World, and I love thee. So says my heart. This matter of creeds is like horseflesh. The wise man knows horses are good—that there is a profit to be made from all; and for myself—but that I am a good Sunni and hate the men of Tirah—I could believe the same of all the Faiths. Now manifestly a Kathiawar mare taken from the sands of her birthplace and removed to the west of Bengal founders—nor is even a Balkh stallion (and there are no better horses than those of Balkh, were they not so heavy in the shoulder) of any account in the great Northern deserts beside the snow-camels I have seen. Therefore I say in my heart the Faiths are like the horses. Each has merit in its own country.” “But my lama said altogether a different thing.” “Oh, he is an old dreamer of dreams from Bhotiyal. My heart is a little angry, Friend of all the World, that thou shouldst see such worth in a man so little known.” “It is true, Hajji; but that worth do I see, and to him my heart is drawn.” “And his to thine, I hear. Hearts are like horses. They come and they go against bit or spur. Shout Gul Sher Khan yonder to drive in that bay stallion’s pickets more firmly. We do not want a horse-fight at every resting-stage, and the dun and the black will be locked in a little ... Now hear me. Is it necessary to the comfort of thy heart to see that lama?” “It is one part of my bond,” said Kim. “If I do not see him, and if he is taken from me, I will go out of that _madrissah_ in Nucklao and, and—once gone, who is to find me again?” “It is true. Never was colt held on a lighter heel-rope than thou.” Mahbub nodded his head. “Do not be afraid.” Kim spoke as though he could have vanished on the moment. “My lama has said that he will come to see me at the _madrissah_—” “A beggar and his bowl in the presence of those young Sa—” “Not all!” Kim cut in with a snort. “Their eyes are blued and their nails are blackened with low-caste blood, many of them. Sons of _mehteeranees_—brothers-in-law to the _bhungi_ (sweeper).” We need not follow the rest of the pedigree; but Kim made his little point clearly and without heat, chewing a piece of sugar-cane the while. “Friend of all the World,” said Mahbub, pushing over the pipe for the boy to clean, “I have met many men, women, and boys, and not a few Sahibs. I have never in all my days met such an imp as thou art.” “And why? When I always tell thee the truth.” “Perhaps the very reason, for this is a world of danger to honest men.” Mahbub Ali hauled himself off the ground, girt in his belt, and went over to the horses. “Or sell it?” There was that in the tone that made Mahbub halt and turn. “What new devilry?” “Eight annas, and I will tell,” said Kim, grinning. “It touches thy peace.” “O Shaitan!” Mahbub gave the money.