"I want her, if only to anger the white men among whom I live," replied his
son sullenly. "Like all the English out here they hate to see their women
marry us black men."

"There is a white man in the Palace who is not like that."

"A white man in the Palace?" echoed his son. "Who is he? What does he
here?"

"A Parliamentary-_wallah_, who is visiting India and will go back to tell
the English monkeys in his country what we are not. He comes here with
letters from the _Lat Sahib_."

"From the Viceroy?"

"Yes; thou knowest that any fool from their Parliament holds a whip over
the back of the _Lat Sahib_ and all the white men in this land. This one
hath no love for his own country."

"How knowest thou that?"

"Because the _Dewan Sahib_ loves him. Any foe of England is as welcome to
the _Dewan_ as the monsoon rain to the _ryot_ whose crops are dying of
drought. Thou wilt see this one, for he is ever with the _Dewan_, who has
ordered that thou goest to him before seeing the Rajah.

"Ordered? I am sick of his orders," replied the son, petulantly. "Am I his
dog that he should order me? I am not a Lalpuri now. I am a British
subject."