"I have no slightest notion where he is, sahib."

"If my letters could once reach him, wherever he might be, I would feel
confident of their arriving at their destination."

"I, too, sahib!"

"I sent one letter--to a government official. It cannot have reached
him, for there should have been an answer and none has come. It had
reference to this terrible suttee business. Suttee is against the law
as well as against all dictates of reason and humanity; yet the
Hindoos make a constant practice of it here under our very eyes. These
native states are under treaty to observe the law. I intend to do all
in my power to put a stop to their ghoulish practices, and Maharajah
Howrah knows what my intentions are. It must be a Mohammedan, this
time, to whom I intrust my correspondence on suttee!"

Now, a Rangar is a man whose ancestors were Hindoos but who became
converts to Islam. Like all proselytes, they adhere more
enthusiastically to their religion than do the men whose mother creed
it is; and the fact that the Rangars originally became converts under
duress is often thrown in their teeth by the Hindoos, who gain nothing
in the way of brotherly regard in the process. A Rangar hates a Hindoo
as enthusiastically as he loves a fight. Ali Partab began to drum his
fingers on his teeth and to exhibit less impatience to be off.

"There is no knowing, sahib. I, too, am no advocate of superstitious
practices involving cruelty. I might get a letter through. My
commission from the risaldar-sahib would include all honorable matters