Yes, the village to the left was Little Kinny; that to the right, great Kinny, and that was the "Burr" tree beyond. Good; then he had only to avoid the tree, if that indeed were necessary. Since the peal of thunder the rain had decreased, and a breeze was springing up in his face, which was very refreshing. The clouds, too, were breaking, as appeared by patches of bright fringe in the south-west. The guide pointed to them cheerfully, as he moved on at a steady pace; for the plain, though muddy in parts, was now not so bad as what he had already passed. So, as our friend is likely to reach Kinny without farther trouble, let us see what Lukshmun has been doing since we left him. The little rivulet in the valley was above his knees as he passed it, and, to any one who did not know it, the ford would have been dangerous; but Lukshmun waded through, without apprehension, and a few minutes after, as he entered the village gateway and shook the rain from his blanket, a group of people assembled there welcomed him with a hearty shout of greeting. "We thought you would have given it up and departed," said the old Patel, who, with his son, a few of the village farmers, and the Putwari, or accountant, were sitting in an open chamber of the deep gateway, the usual place of business. "We thought you would have gone away, else I would have sent up some milk. Why did you not come and sit here, instead of in that ungodly place up yonder? Here, one of ye," he continued to a group of "jowans," who were sitting in the opposite chamber, "take his blanket and dry it. Hast thou eaten to-day, friend?" "Nothing but a bit of stale cake I had in my waist-cloth," replied the man; "only that my teeth are strong, it would have broken them. The 'poor man's' bread in the Mutt at Kullianee is not dainty food, and the flour was musty, O Patel!" "Take him away to the house, and let them feed him; the women will have something good, I dare say," replied the Patel. "Go and see." "And no one has passed since morning?" "Not a creature. It is not weather to send the dogs out; and the mud from Kulmus to Kinny and hitherwards will be hopeless. No, he won't come to-day; but go and eat, friend--go and eat." "If I am wanted," said Lukshmun. "Jee, jee! Ay, ay! I will not forget you. Go!" "What does he want out such a day as this?" asked the Putwari. "What has Pahar Singh in hand just now?" "What does it matter to us, Rao Sahib?" returned the Patel; "all we have to do is to keep his people in good humour, to save our cattle from being harried, our stacks from being burned, and our people," he added, looking round at the farmers and their wives, "from being robbed when they come from market? That is worth what we pay him. Should we have got the crops off that disputed land at Chitli if he had not sent those spearmen?"