"Let the gracious lady pardon her servant," he said, in perfect English.
"He would not harm a hair of her head."
She raised herself to an upright position with an effort. Very curiously
she did not feel in the least afraid. By an abrupt intuition, wholly
inexplicable, she knew that the man had something to tell her.
"What is it?" she said.
He cringed before her.
"Let my gracious lady have patience. It is no boon that her servant
would desire of her. He would only speak a word of warning in the
_mem-sahib's_ ear."
Beryl had begun to give him her full attention. She had a feeling that
she had seen the man somewhere before, but where and under what
circumstances she could not recall. It was no moment for retrospection
and the phantom eluded her.
"What is it?" she said again, studying him with knitted brows.
He bowed himself before her till he appeared to be no more than a bundle
of dirty linen.
"Let the gracious lady be warned by her servant," he said. "Fletcher
_sahib_ is a man of evil heart."
Beryl's eyes widened. Assuredly this was the last thing she had expected
to hear from such a source.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He grovelled before her, his head almost in the dust.
"_Mem-sahib_ he has gone for water, but he will soon return. And he will
lie to the gracious lady, and tell her that the shaft of the carriage is
broken so that he cannot take her back.
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