Their
servants appeared to be familiar with the Victoria, and they were taken to
their apartments at once.
"What the dickens do we want of all these fellows?" asked Scott when they
had been conducted to a room with four beds in it. "They will be a nuisance
to us."
"We don't need all you fellows," added Louis Belgrave, turning to his
servant. "We are accustomed to wait on ourselves. One of you is enough for
all of us."
"No, Sahib; no _khidmutgar_ waits on more than one gentleman," replied
Louis's man, with a cheerful smile, displaying a wealth of white teeth
which would have been creditable to an Alabama negro.
"That's what's the matter, is it?" added Scott. "I have learned that no
Hindu will do more than one kind of work, take care of more than one
person; and no groom will take care of more than one horse. If you have six
horses, you must have six hostlers. That is what Sir Modava told me."
"Custom is law here, and we must follow the fashions," replied Louis. "What
is your name, my boy?" he continued, turning to his servant.
"Sayad, sahib," answered he.
Scott's was Moro, Morris's was Mobarak, and Felix's was Balaya; but the
last two were speedily abbreviated into "Mobby" and "Bally," to which the
young Hindus offered no objection. They were all under twenty years of age,
and spoke English passably well.
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