Narain, the bearer, who was squatting against the door-post outside, sprang up and stood before his master.

"Narain, why did you not show that pundit the way downstairs?
What do you mean?
have you no manners ?" Narain stood open mouthed.

"What pundit, sahib ?" he asked.
"Why, the pundit who came a quarter of an hour ago, you donkey! He has just gone out, and you did not even get up and make a salaam, you impertinent vagabond!" Narain protested that no pundit, or sahib, or any one else, had passed the threshold since Ram Lal had entered.

"Ha! you _budmash_.

You lazy dog of a Hindoo! you have been asleep again, you swine, you son of a pig, you father of piglings! Is that the way you do your work in my service ?" Isaacs was enjoying the joke in a quiet way immensely.
"Sahib," said the trembling Narain, apparently forgetting the genealogy his master had thrust upon him, "Sahib, you are protector of the poor, you are my father and my mother, and my brother, and all my relations," the common form of Hindoo supplication, "but, Sri Krishnaji! by the blessed Krishna, I have not slept a wink." "Then I suppose you mean me to believe that the pundit went through the ceiling, or is hidden under the cushions.