Kim nodded, with a bright eye.
“I spoke to the Bengali first—and to the people of a nearby village after. The Sahibs will be given food as they need it—nor will the people ask money. The plunder is already distributed. The Babu makes lying speeches to the Sahibs. Why does he not leave them?”
“Out of the greatness of his heart.”
“Was never a Bengali yet had one bigger than a dried walnut. But it is no matter … Now as to walnuts. After service comes reward. I have said the village is thine.”
“It is my loss,” Kim began. “Even now I had planned desirable things in my heart which”—there is no need to go through the compliments proper to these occasions. He sighed deeply … “But my master, led by a vision—”
“Huh! What can old eyes see except a full begging-bowl?”
“—turns from this village to the Plains again.”
“Bid him stay.”
Kim shook his head. “I know my Holy One, and his rage if he be crossed,” he replied impressively. “His curses shake the Hills.”
“Pity they did not save him from a broken head! I heard that thou wast the tiger-hearted one who smote the Sahib. Let him dream a little longer. Stay!”
“Hillwoman,” said Kim, with austerity that could not harden the outlines of his young oval face, “these matters are too high for thee.”