“I will look into the ink-pools—I will faithfully guard the jewels! Oh, my Father and my Mother, send him away!” He indicated Kim with a backward jerk of his bare heel.
“Not yet—not yet. In a little while he will go away again. But now he is at school—at a new madrissah —and thou shalt be his teacher. Play the Play of the Jewels against him. I will keep tally.”
The child dried his tears at once, and dashed to the back of the shop, whence he returned with a copper tray.
“Give me!” he said to Lurgan Sahib. “Let them come from thy hand, for he may say that I knew them before.”
“Gently—gently,” the man replied, and from a drawer under the table dealt a half-handful of clattering trifles into the tray.
“Now,” said the child, waving an old newspaper. “Look on them as long as thou wilt, stranger. Count and, if need be, handle. One look is enough for me .” He