His fingers twitched with agonied anticipation, and he began to praise his elephant again, as some people recite proverbs to keep themselves from getting too excited.
The various heaps of money on the tray must have amounted to about fifty dollars.

The mahout spread out the end of his turban by way of begging bowl, and the Mahatma shook all the money into it, so that Ismail gasped and the mahout himself turned up his eyes in exquisite delirium.
"Go or you will be too late!" was all the Mahatma said to him, and the mahout did not wait for a second command, but mounted his elephant's neck, kicked the big brute up and rode away, in a hurry to be off before he should wake up and discover that the whole adventure was a dream.
But he could not get away with it as easily as all that.

Ismail was keeper of the gate, and the gate was locked.

Akbar doubtless could have broken down the gate if so instructed, but even the East, which is never long on gratitude, would hardly do that much damage after receiving such a royal largesse.

Ismail went to unlock the gate, and demanded his percentage, giving it, though, the Eastern name, which means "the usual thing." And the usual argument took place--I approached to listen to it--the usual recriminations, threats, counterclaims, abuse, appeals to various deaf deities, and finally concession--after Ismail had made the all-compelling threat to tell the other mahouts how much the gift had amounted to.