As we came
within his range of vision, his dark eyes shot a quick glance of
scrutiny at me and then dropped again. Not a movement of the head or
body betrayed a consciousness of our presence. Isaacs made a long
salutation in Hindustani, and I followed his example, but he did not
take off his shoes or make anything more than an ordinary bow. It was
quite evident that he was master of the situation. The old man took the
pipe from his mouth and replied in a deep hollow voice that he was glad
to see us, and that, in consideration of our wealth, fame, and renowned
wisdom, he would waive all ceremony and beg us to be seated. We sat down
cross-legged on cushions before him, and as near as we could get, so
that it seemed as if we three were performing some sacred rite of which
the object was the tall hookah that stood in the centre of our triangle.
Being seated, Isaacs addressed the prince, still in Hindustani, and said
that the splendour of his sublime majesty, which was like the sun
dispelling the clouds, so overcame him with fear and trembling, that he
humbly implored permission to make use of the Persian tongue, which, he
was aware, the lord of boundless wisdom spoke with even greater ease
than himself.
Without waiting for an answer, and with no perceptible manifestation of
any such "fear and trembling" as he professed, Isaacs at once began to
speak in his native tongue, and dropping all forms of ceremony or
circumlocution plunged boldly into business.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109