'But he speaks with his face and his hands alive--so; and I laugh before I know why. Now Colonel Nolan Sahib speaks like a buffalo, with his mouth shut. I cannot tell whether he is angry or pleased. But, father, what does Tarvin Sahib do here?'
'We go for a ride together,' returned the King. 'When we return, perhaps I will tell thee. What do the men about thee say of him?'
'They say he is a man of clean heart; and he is always kind to me.'
'Has he said aught to thee of me?'
'Never in language that I could understand. But I do not doubt that he is a good man. See, he is laughing now.'
Tarvin, who had pricked up his ears at hearing his own name, now resettled himself in the saddle, and gathered up his reins, as a hint to the King that it was time to be moving.
The grooms brought up a long, switch-tailed English thoroughbred and a lean, mouse-coloured mare. The Maharajah rose to his feet.
'Go back to Saroop Singh and get the saddles, Prince,' said he.
'What are you going to do to-day, little man?' asked Tarvin.
'I shall go and get new equipment,' answered the child, 'and then I shall come to play with the prime minister's son here.'
Again, like the hiss of a hidden snake, the rustle behind the shutters increased. Evidently some one there understood the child's words.
'Shall you see Miss Kate to-day?'
'Not to-day. 'Tis holiday for me. I do not go to Mrs. Estes to-day.'
The King turned on Tarvin swiftly, and spoke under his breath.
'Must he see that doctor lady every day? All my people lie to me, in the hope of winning my favour; even Colonel Nolan says that the child is very strong. Speak the truth. He is my first son.'
'He is not strong,' answered Tarvin calmly. 'Perhaps it would be better to let him see Miss Sheriff this morning. You don't lose anything by keeping your weather eye open, you know.'
'I do not understand,' said the King; 'but go to the missionary's house to-day, my son.'
'I am to come here and play,' answered the Prince petulantly.
'You don't know what Miss Sheriff's got for you to play with,' said Tarvin.
'What is it?' asked the Maharaj sharply.
'You've got a carriage and ten troopers,' replied Tarvin. 'You've only got to go there and find out.'
He drew a letter from his breast-pocket, glancing with liking at the two-cent American stamp, and scribbled a note to Kate on the envelope, which ran thus:--
'Keep the little fellow with you to-day. There's a wicked look about things this morning. Find something for him to do; get up games for him; do anything, but keep him away from the palace. I got your note. All right. I understand.'
He called the Maharaj to him, and handed him the note. 'Take this to Miss Kate, like a little man, and say I sent you,' he said.
'My son is not an orderly,' said the King surlily.
'Your son is not very well, and I'm the first to speak the truth to you about him, it seems to me,' said Tarvin. 'Gently on that colt's mouth--you.' The Foxhall colt was dancing between his grooms.
'You'll be thrown,' said the Maharaj Kunwar, in an ecstasy of delight. 'He throws all his grooms.'
At that moment a shutter in the courtyard clicked distinctly three times in the silence.
One of the grooms passed to the off side of the plunging colt deftly. Tarvin put his foot into the stirrup to spring up, when the saddle turned completely round. Some one let go of the horse's head, and Tarvin had just time to kick his foot free as the animal sprang forward.
'I've seen slicker ways of killing a man than that,' he said quietly. 'Bring my friend back,' he added to one of the grooms; and when the Foxhall colt was under his hands again he cinched him up as the beast had not been girt since he had first felt the bit. 'Now,' he said, and leaped into the saddle, as the King clattered out of the courtyard.
The colt reared on end, landed stiffly on his forefeet, and lashed out. Tarvin, sitting him with the cow-boy seat, said quietly to the child, who was still watching his movements, 'Run along, Maharaj. Don't hang around here. Let me see you started for Miss Kate.'
The boy obeyed, with a regretful glance at the prancing horse. Then the Foxhall colt devoted himself to unseating his rider. He refused to quit the courtyard, though Tarvin argued with him, first behind the saddle, and then between the indignant ears. Accustomed to grooms who slipped off at the first sign of rebellion, the Foxhall colt was wrathful. Without warning, he dashed through the archway, wheeled on his haunches, and bolted in pursuit of the Maharajah's mare. Once in the open, sandy country, he felt that he had a field worthy of his powers. Tarvin also saw his opportunity. The Maharajah, known in his youth as a hard rider among a nation of perhaps the hardest riders on earth, turned in his saddle and watched the battle with interest.
'You ride like a Rajput,' he shouted, as Tarvin flew past him. 'Breathe him on a straight course in the open.'
'Not till he's learned who's boss,' replied Tarvin, and he wrenched the colt around.
'Shabash! Shabash! Oh, well done! Well done!' cried the Maharajah, as the colt answered the bit. 'Tarvin Sahib, I'll make you colonel of my regular cavalry.'
'Ten million irregular devils!' said Tarvin impolitely. 'Come back, you brute! Back!'
The horse's head was bowed on his lathering chest under the pressure of the curb; but before obeying he planted his forefeet, and bucked as viciously as one of Tarvin's own broncos. 'Both feet down and chest extended,' he murmured gaily to himself, as the creature see-sawed up and down. He was in his element, and dreamed himself back in Topaz.
'Maro! Maro!' exclaimed the King. 'Hit him hard! Hit him well!'
'Oh, let him have his little picnic,' said Tarvin easily. 'I like it.'
When the colt was tired he was forced to back for ten yards. 'Now we'll go on,' said Tarvin, and fell into a trot by the side of the Maharajah. 'That river of yours is full of gold,' he said, after a moment's silence, as if continuing an uninterrupted conversation.
'When I was a young man,' said the King, 'I rode pig here. We chased them with the sword in the springtime. That was before the English came. Over there, by that pile of rock, I broke my collar-bone.'
'Full of gold, Maharajah Sahib. How do you propose to get it out?'
Tarvin knew something already of the King's discursiveness; he did not mean to give way to it.
'What do I know?' answered the King solemnly. 'Ask the agent sahib.'
'But, look here, who does run this State, you or Colonel Nolan?'
'You know,' returned the Maharajah. 'You have seen.' He pointed north and south. 'There,' he said, 'is one railway line; yonder is another. I am a goat between two wolves.'
'Well,
