He had found a yellow-haired,
blue-eyed English boy in a walled palace of Rajputana, five hundred
miles from any one of his race. The boy was happy, healthy, and
well content. That much the Maharajah had pointed out to him; that
much he could see for himself. Beyond that the Maharajah had
discouraged Dr. Roberts' interest. The boy's name was Sunni, he
had no other name, he had come 'under the protection' of the
Maharajah when he was very young; and that was all His Highness
could be induced to say. Any more pointed inquiries he was
entirely unable to understand. There seemed to be no one else who
knew. Tooni could have told him, but Tooni was under orders that
she did not dare to disobey. In the bazar two or three conflicting
stories, equally wonderful, were told of Sunni; but none that Dr.
Roberts could believe. In the end he found out about Sunni from
Sunni himself, who had never forgotten one word of what Tooni told
the Maharajah. Sunni mentioned also, with considerable pride, that
he had known three English words for a long time--'wass' and
'bruss' and 'isstockin'.'
Then Dr. Roberts, with his heart full of the awful grief of the
Mutiny, and thinking how gladly this waif and stray would be
received by somebody, hurried to the Maharajah, and begged that the
boy might be given back to his own people, that he, Dr.
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