It was a pull of but a few minutes, and the
barge shot into the basin, and came to a convenient landing-place. On the
shore they found Mr. Windham, one of the chief officials of the
custom-house, who had been on board of the ship. He was surrounded by a
small mob of young Hindus, neatly dressed in the native garments of white
cotton. The ladies were assisted to the shore first. All of the party
carried small valises or satchels containing the needed articles for a few
days' stay at a hotel; and these natives took possession of them as they
landed.
"What is this man, Sir Modava?" asked Mrs. Belgrave, as one of them
relieved her of the bag she carried.
"He is your _Khidmutgar_, madam," replied the Hindu knight, with a
smile on his handsome face.
"My what?" demanded the lady. "And must I pronounce that word?"
"Not unless you wish to do so. This man is your servant, your waiter."
"But what are we to do with such a lot of them?" inquired Mrs. Belgrave, as
she looked upon the group of Hindus.
"There is only one for each person of the company; for every one must have
his servant. We are going to the Victoria Hotel, and this _Khidmutgar_
will attend upon you at the table, and do anything you require."
"I don't think I shall need him all the time," added the lady, who thought
he would be a nuisance to her.
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