'As a boy in the dress of white men - when I first went to the
Wonder House. And a second time thou wast a Hindu. What shall the
third incarnation be?' He chuckled drearily. 'Ah, chela, thou has
done a wrong to an old man because my heart went out to thee.'

'And mine to thee. But how could I know that the Red Bull would
bring me to this business?'

The lama covered his face afresh, and nervously rattled the rosary.
Kim squatted beside him and laid hold upon a fold of his clothing.

'Now it is understood that the boy is a Sahib?' he went on in a
muffled tone. 'Such a Sahib as was he who kept the images in the
Wonder House.' The lama's experience of white men was limited. He
seemed to be repeating a lesson. 'So then it is not seemly that he
should do other than as the Sahibs do. He must go back to his own
people.'

'For a day and a night and a day,' Kim pleaded.

'No, ye don't!' Father Victor saw Kim edging towards the door, and
interposed a strong leg.

'I do not understand the customs of white men. The Priest of the
Images in the Wonder House in Lahore was more courteous than the
thin one here. This boy will be taken from me. They will make a
Sahib of my disciple? Woe to me! How shall I find my River? Have
they no disciples? Ask.'

'He says he is very sorree that he cannot find the River now any