were not mistaken," he said heartily.
"Anundee, you will, I am sure, join me in the welcome; and willingly give my sister and her child a place in our home?"
"Assuredly. It will be pleasant for me, when you are in the fields, to have some one to talk to, and perhaps to help me about the house."
Soyera saw that she was speaking sincerely.
"Thank you, Anundee; you may be sure that I shall not be idle. I have been accustomed to work, and can take much off your hands; and will look after your two children;" for two boys, three or four years old, were standing before her, staring at the newcomer.
"That will be pleasant, Soyera; indeed, sometimes they hinder me much in my work."
"I am accustomed to children, Anundee, as I was for years nurse to English children, and know their ways."
"Well, now let us to dinner," Ramdass broke in. "I am hungry, and want to be off again. There is much to do in the fields."
The woman took a pot off the embers of a wood fire, and poured its contents into a dish. The meal consisted of a species of pulse boiled with ghee, with peppers and other condiments added.
"And how did you like being among the English, Soyera?"
"I liked it very well," the woman said. "They are very kind and considerate to nurses and, although they get angry when the gorrawallah or other men neglect their duty, they do not punish them as a Mahratta master would do. They are not double faced; when they say a thing they mean it, and their word can always be trusted. As a people, no doubt they are anxious to extend their dominion; but they do not wish to do so for personal gain. They are not like the princes here, who go to war to gain territory and revenue. It was reasonable that they should wish to increase their lands; for they are almost shut up in Bombay, with Salsette and the other islands occupied by us, who may, any day, be their enemies."
Her brother laughed.
"It seems to me, Soyera, that you have come to prefer these English people to your own countrymen."
"I say not that, Ramdass. You asked me how I liked them, and I have told you. You yourself know how the tax collectors grind down the people; how Scindia and Holkar and the Peishwa are always fighting each other. Do you know that, in Bombay, the meanest man could not be put to death, unless fairly tried; while among the Mahrattas men are executed on the merest excuse or, if not executed, are murdered?"
"That is true enough," Ramdass said; "none of the three princes would hesitate to put to death anyone who stood in his way, and it seems strange to me that even the Brahmins, who would not take the life even of a troublesome insect, yet support the men who have killed scores of other people. But it is no use grumbling; the thing has always been, and I suppose always will be. It is not only so in the Deccan, but in the Nizam's dominions, in Mysore and, so far as I know, in Oude and Delhi. It seems so natural to us that the powerful should oppress the weak, and that one prince should go to war with another, that we hardly give the matter a thought; but though, as you say, the English in Bombay may rule wisely, and dislike taking life, they are doing now just as our princes do--they are making war with us."
"That is true but, from what I have heard when the English sahibs were speaking together, it is everything to them that a prince favourable to them should rule at Poonah for, were Holkar and Scindia to become all powerful, and place one of their people on the seat of the Peishwa, the next step might be that a great Mahratta force would descend the Ghauts, capture Bombay, and slay every white man in it."
"But they are a mere handful," Ramdass said. "How can they think of invading a nation like ours?"
"Because they know, at least they believe, that Scindia, Holkar, and the Peishwa are all so jealous of each other that they will never act together. Then you see what they have done round Madras and Bengal and, few as they are, they have won battles against the great princes; and lastly, my mistress has told me that, although there are but few here, there are many at home; and they could, if they chose, send out twenty soldiers for every one there is here.
"Besides, it is not these alone who fight. The natives enlist under them, and aid them in their conquests; and this shows, at least, that they are well treated, and have confidence in the good faith of the English."
"It is all very well, Soyera, to talk that way; but I would as willingly believe that the stars will fall from the sky as that these Englishmen, who simply live in Bombay because we suffer them to do so, should ever conquer the Mahrattas, as they have subdued other portions of India where, as everyone knows, the people are not warlike, and have always been conquered without difficulty.
"Look at our power! At Delhi the emperor is a puppet in our hands, and it is the same in all the districts on the plain of the great river. The Rajpoots fear us, and even the Pindaries would not dare carry their raids into our country. That a small body of merchants and soldiers should threaten us seems, to me, altogether absurd."
"Well, brother, we will not argue about it. Time will show. As a woman of the Mahrattas, I trust that day will never come; but as one who knows the English, I have my fears. Of one thing I am sure, that were they masters here, the cultivators would be vastly better off than they are at present."
Ramdass laughed.
"What do you think of my sister's opinions, Anundee?"
"I do not know what to think," the young woman said; "but Soyera has seen much, and is a wise woman, and what she says are no idle words. To us it seems impossible, when we know that the Mahrattas can place a hundred thousand horsemen in the field; but I own that, from what we know of the English, it might be better for people like us to have such masters."
"And now, Soyera," Ramdass said, when he returned from his work in the evening, "tell us more about yourself. First, how did you learn where I was living?"
"I learned it from the wife of our cousin Sufder."
"How did you fall in with him?"
"Well, I must tell you something. I had meant to keep it entirely to myself, but I know that you and Anundee will keep my secret."
"Assuredly we will. I am not a man to talk of other people's affairs and, as to Anundee, you can trust her with your life."
"Well, in the first place, I deceived you; or rather you deceived yourself, when you said, 'I see that you have been married;' but the children were here, and so I could not explain. The infant is not mine. It is the son of my dear master and mistress, both of whom were killed, three days ago, by bands--of which Sufder commanded one--who attacked them suddenly, by night."
"What! Is the child white?" Ramdass asked, in a tone of alarm.
"It is not white, because I have stained the skin; but it is the child of English parents. I will tell you how it happened."
And she related the instances of the attack upon the little camp, the death of her master and mistress, another white officer, and all their escort; told how she had hidden the child under the cover of the tent, how Sufder had saved her life, and her subsequent conversation with him regarding the child.
"Now, what do you intend to do with him, Soyera?"
"I intend to bring him up as my own. I shall keep his skin stained, and no one can suspect that he is not mine."
"Then
