"My son!" he muttered.
"Aye! Thy priestling! He stays where he is, as hostage, until my
return! Also the heavenborn stays here! If, on my return, I find
the heavenborn safe and sound, I will exchange her for thy son--and
if not, I will tear thy son into little pieces before thy eyes, priest!
Dost thou understand?"
"Thou liest! My son is overhead in the temple here!"
"Go seek him, then!"
The priest turned and scampered up the ladder with an agility that
was astonishing in a man of his build and paunch.
"Hanuman should have been thy master!" jeered the Risaldar. "So
run the bandar-log, the monkey-folk!"
But the priest had no time to answer him. He was half frantic with
the sickening fear of a father for his only son. He returned ten
minutes later, panting, and more scared than ever.
"Go, take thy white woman," he exclaimed, "and give me my son back!"
"Nay, priest! Shall I ride with her alone through that horde that
are marching through the gate? I go now for an escort; in eight--
ten--twelve--I know not how many hours, I will return for her, and
then--thy son will be exchanged for her, or he dies thus in many pieces!"
He turned to Suliman.
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