“It is nothing,” said the lama. “I thought not. Therefore it will not move thee, sinless, new-washed and three parts drowned to boot, when I call thee a good man—a very good man. We have talked together some four or five evenings now, and for all I am a horse-coper I can still, as the saying is, see holiness beyond the legs of a horse. Yea, can see, too, how our Friend of all the World put his hand in thine at the first. Use him well, and suffer him to return to the world as a teacher, when thou hast—bathed his legs, if that be the proper medicine for the colt.” “Why not follow the Way thyself, and so accompany the boy?” Mahbub stared stupefied at the magnificent insolence of the demand, which across the Border he would have paid with more than a blow. Then the humour of it touched his worldly soul. “Softly—softly—one foot at a time, as the lame gelding went over the Umballa jumps. I may come to Paradise later—I have workings that way—great motions—and I owe them to thy simplicity. Thou hast never lied?” “What need?” “O Allah, hear him! ‘What need’ in this Thy world! Nor ever harmed a man?” “Once—with a pencase—before I was wise.” “So? I think the better of thee. Thy teachings are good. Thou hast turned one man that I know from the path of strife.” He laughed immensely. “He came here open-minded to commit a _dacoity_ (a house-robbery with violence). Yes, to cut, rob, kill, and carry off what he desired.” “A great foolishness!” “Oh! black shame too. So he thought after he had seen thee—and a few others, male and female. So he abandoned it; and now he goes to beat a big fat Babu man.” “I do not understand.” “Allah forbid it! Some men are strong in knowledge, Red Hat. Thy strength is stronger still. Keep it—I think thou wilt. If the boy be not a good servant, pull his ears off.” With a hitch of his broad Bokhariot belt the Pathan swaggered off into the gloaming, and the lama came down from his clouds so far as to look at the broad back. “That person lacks courtesy, and is deceived by the shadow of appearances. But he spoke well of my _chela_, who now enters upon his reward. Let me make the prayer! ... Wake, O fortunate above all born of women. Wake! It is found!” Kim came up from those deep wells, and the lama attended his yawning pleasure; duly snapping fingers to head off evil spirits. “I have slept a hundred years. Where—? Holy One, hast _thou_ been here long? I went out to look for thee, but”—he laughed drowsily—“I slept by the way. I am all well now. Hast thou eaten? Let us go to the house. It is many days since I tended thee. And the Sahiba fed thee well? Who shampooed thy legs? What of the weaknesses—the belly and the neck, and the beating in the ears?” “Gone—all gone. Dost thou not know?” “I know nothing, but that I have not seen thee in a monkey’s age. Know what?” “Strange the knowledge did not reach out to thee, when all my thoughts were theeward.”