Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

The Winds of the World by Talbot Mundy
page 24 of 231 (10%)
until she heard them pull him into a _gharri_ and drive away.
Then she turned to her favorite maid.

"Them--those cattle--I understand!" she said. "But it does not suit
me that a Sikh, a Jat, a buffalo, should come here making mysteries
of his own without consulting me! And what does not suit me I do not
tolerate! Go, get that Afridi whom the soldier kicked--I told him to
wait outside in the street until I sent for him."

The Afridi came, nearly as helpless as the man who had drunk
sherbet, though less tearful and almost infinitely more resentful.
What clothing had not been torn from him was soaked in blood, and
there was no inch of him that was not bruised.

"Krishna!" said Yasmini impiously.

"Allah!" swore the Afridi.

"Who did it? What has happened?"

"Outside in the street I said to some men who waited that Ranjoor
Singh the Sikh is a bastard. From then until now they beat me, only
leaving off to follow him hence when he came out through the door!"

Yasmini laughed, peal upon peal of silver laughter--of sheer
merriment.

"The gods love Yasmini!" she chuckled. "Aye, the gods love me! The
Jat spoke of a squadron; it is evident that he spoke truth. So his
squadron watched him here! Go, _jungli_! Go, wash the blood
DigitalOcean Referral Badge