“Ah! He is jealous, so jealous. I wonder if he will try to poison me again in my breakfast, and make me cook it twice.”
“ Kubbee—kubbee nahin ,” came the broken answer.
“And whether he will kill this other boy?”
“ Kubbee—kubbee nahin. ”
“What do you think he will do?” He turned suddenly on Kim.
“Oah! I do not know. Let him go, perhaps. Why did he want to poison you?”
“Because he is so fond of me. Suppose you were fond of someone, and you saw someone come, and the man you were fond of was more pleased with him than he was with you, what would you do?”
Kim thought. Lurgan repeated the sentence slowly in the vernacular. “I should not poison that man,” said Kim reflectively, “but I should beat that boy— if that boy was fond of my man. But first, I would ask that boy if it were true.”
“Ah! He thinks everyone must be fond of me.”
“Then I think he is a fool.”
“Hearest thou?” said Lurgan Sahib to the shaking shoulders. “The Sahib’s son thinks thou art a little fool. Come out, and next time thy heart is troubled, do not try white arsenic quite so openly. Surely the Devil Dasim was lord of our tablecloth that day! It might have made me ill, child, and then a stranger would have guarded the jewels. Come!”
The child, heavy-eyed with much weeping, crept out from behind the bale and flung himself passionately at Lurgan Sahib’s feet, with an extravagance of remorse that impressed even Kim.