Thinking of this, Abdul often said to Tooni, his wife; 'The service of the sahib is good and profitable, but in old age peace is better, even though we are compelled to pay many rupees to the tax-gatherers of the Maharajah.' Tooni always agreed, and when the khaber came that all the memsahibs and the children had been killed by the sepoys, she agreed weeping.

They were always so kind and gentle, the memsahibs, and the little ones, the babalok--the babalok! Surely the sepoys had become like the tiger-folk.

Then she picked up Sonny Sahib and held him tighter than he liked.

She had crooned with patient smiles over many of the babalok in her day, but from beginning to end, never a baba like this.

So strong he was, he could make old Abdul cry out, pulling at his beard, so sweet-tempered and healthy that he would sleep just where he was put down, like other babies of Rubbulgurh.