"And whose memsahib was thy aunt?" said Adam, with the mango stone in his fist. We began to laugh again.
"But here," said Strickland, pulling his face together, "is a very bad child who has caused his father to lose honour before all the policemen of the Punjab."
"Oh, they know," said Adam. "It was only for the sake of show that they caught the people. Assuredly they all knew it was bunao [make-up]."
"And since when hast thou known?" said the first policeman in India to his son.
"Four days after we came here — after the wood-cutter had asked Beshakl of the health of his head. Beshaki all but slew a wood-cutter at that bad-water place."
"If thou hadst spoken then, time and money and trouble to me and to others had all been spared. Baba, thou hast done a wrong greater than thy knowledge, and thou hast put me to shame, and set me out upon false words, and broken my honour. Thou hast done very wrong. But perhaps thou didst not think?"
"Nay, but I did think. Father, my honour was lost when that happened that — that happened in Juma's presence. Now it is made whole again."
And, with the most enchanting smile in the world, Adam climbed on to his father's lap.
End of "THE SON OF HIS FATHER"