know not of the value of such things."

Leh Shin curled his bare toes on the edge of his bed and looked at them
with a great appearance of interest.

"Was the thief taken, O son of a Prophet?"

"He was not. I have cried in the veranda, to see the Lady Sahib's
sorrow, and I have also prayed and made many offerings at the Mosque,
but the thief escaped. Now that my service with the Lord Sahib is
finished, and as he has assisted my poverty with small gifts, I would
like to make a present to the Lady Sahib. Some trifling thing, costing a
small sum in rupees, for her grief was indeed great, and it may avail to
console her sorrow."

"For which sorrow thou, also, wept in the veranda," added Leh Shin.

"The Lady Sahib had many bowls of lacquer, some green, some red, some
spotted like the back of a poison snake, but she lacked a golden bowl,
and, should I be able to procure one for a moderate price, it would add
greatly to her pleasure in remembering her servant, for, says not the
Wise One, 'a gift is a small thing, but the hand that holds it may not
be raised to smite.'"

Shiraz, all the time he was speaking, had regarded the Chinaman from
behind his respectable gold-rimmed spectacles, and he noticed that Leh
Shin did not seem to care for the subject of lacquer, for his face
darkened and he stopped scratching.

"I deal not in lacquer," he said quickly. "Neither touch thou the