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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7940.txt b/7940.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0a5074 --- /dev/null +++ b/7940.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13000 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Native Born, by I. A. R. Wylie + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: The Native Born + or, The Rajah's People + +Author: I. A. R. Wylie + +Posting Date: March 8, 2015 [EBook #7940] +Release Date: April, 2005 +First Posted: June 3, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NATIVE BORN *** + + + + +Produced by Elizabeth Trapaga, S. R. Ellison, William A. +Pifer-Foote, Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "Miss Cary has consented to become my wife."] + + + + + THE NATIVE BORN + + or + +THE RAJAH'S PEOPLE + + + by + + I. A. R. WYLIE + + 1910 + + + +with Illustrations by + +JOHN NEWTON HOWITT + + + + +PREFACE + + +In earlier days a preface to a novel with no direct historical source +always seemed to me somewhat out of place, since I believed that the +author could be indebted solely to his own imagination. I have learned, +however, that even in a novel _pur sang_ it is possible to owe much to +others, and I now take the opportunity which the despised preface offers +to pay my debt--inadequately it is true--to Mr. Hughes Massie, whose +enthusiastic help in the launching of this, my first serious literary +effort, I shall always hold in grateful remembrance. + +I. A. R. W. + +May 9th, 1910 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BOOK I + +CHAPTER + I WHICH IS A PROLOGUE + II THE DANCING IS RESUMED + III NEHAL SINGH + IV CIRCE + V ARCHIBALD TRAVERS PLAYS BRIDGE + VI BREAKING THE BARRIER + VII THE SECOND GENERATION +VIII THE IDEAL + IX CHECKED + X AT THE GATES OF A GREAT PEOPLE + XI WITHIN THE GATES + XII THE WHITE HAND +XIII THE ROAD CLEAR + XIV IN WHICH MANY THINGS ARE BROKEN + XV THE GREAT HEALER + XVI FATE +XVII FALSE LIGHT + + +BOOK II + + I BUILDING THE CATHEDRAL + II CATASTROPHE + III A FAREWELL + IV STAFFORD INTERVENES + V MURDER + VI CLEARING AWAY THE RUBBISH + VII IN THE TEMPLE OF VISHNU +VIII FACE TO FACE + IX HALF-LIGHT + X TRAVERS + XI IN THE HOUR OF NEED + XII HIS OWN PEOPLE +XIII ENVOI + + + + +THE NATIVE BORN + + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WHICH IS A PROLOGUE + + +The woman lying huddled on the couch turned her face to the wall and +covered it with her hands in a burst of uncontrollable horror. + +"Oh, that dreadful light!" she moaned. "If it would only go out! It will +send me mad. Oh, if it would only go out--only go out!" + +Her companion made no immediate answer. She stood by the wall, her +shoulders slightly hunched, her hands clasped before her in an attitude of +fixed, sullen defiance. What her features expressed it was impossible to +tell, since they were hidden by the deep shadow in which she had taken up +her position. The rest of the apartment was lit with a grey, ghostly +light, the reflection from the courtyard, in part visible through the open +doorway, and which lay bathed in all the brilliancy of a full Indian moon. + +"When the light goes out, it will mean that the end has come," she said at +last. "Do you know that, Christine?" + +"Yes, I know it," the other answered piteously; "but that's what I +want--the end. I am not afraid to die. I know Harry will be there. He will +not let it be too hard for me. It's the suspense I can not bear. The +suspense is worse than death. I have died a dozen times tonight, and +suffered as I am sure God will not let us suffer." + +Margaret Caruthers bent over the cowering figure with the sympathy which +education provides when the heart fails to perform its office. There was, +indeed, little tenderness in the hand which passed lightly over Christine +Stafford's feverish forehead. + +"You give God credit for a good deal," she said indifferently. "If the +light troubles you, shall I shut the door?" + +Christine sprang half upright. + +"No!" she cried sharply. "No! I should still see it. Even when I cover my +face--so--I can still see it flickering. And then there is the darkness, +and in the darkness, faces--little John's face. Oh, my little fellow, what +will become of you!" She began to cry softly, but no longer with fear. +Love and pity had struggled up out of the chaos of her despair, rising +above even the mighty instinct of self-preservation. Margaret's hand +ceased from its mechanical act of consolation. + +"Be thankful that he is not here," she said. + +"I am thankful--but the thought of him makes death harder. It will hurt +him so." + +"No one is indispensable in this world." + +Christine turned her haggard, tear-stained face to the moonlight. + +"How hard you are!" she said wonderingly. "You, too, have your little girl +to think of, but even with the end so close--even knowing that we shall +never see our loved ones again--you are still hard." + +"I have no loved ones, and life has taught me to be hard. Why should death +soften me?" was the cold answer. Both women relapsed into silence. Always +strangers to each other, a common danger had not served to break down the +barrier between them. Christine now lay quiet and calm, her hands clasped, +her lips moving slightly, as though in prayer. Her companion had resumed +her former position against the wall, her eyes fixed on the open doorway, +beyond which the grey lake of moonlight spread itself into the shadow of +the walls. In the distance a single point of fire flickered uneasily, +winking like an evil, threatening eye. So long as it winked at them, so +long their lives were safe. With its extermination they knew must come +their own. Hitherto, save for the murmur of the two voices, a profound +hush had weighed ominously in the heavy air. Now suddenly a cry went up, +pitched on a high note and descending by semitones, like a dying wind, +into a moan. It was caught up instantly and repeated so close that it +seemed to the two women to have sprung from the very ground beneath their +feet. Christine started up. + +"Oh, my God!" she muttered. "Oh, my God!" She was trembling from head to +foot, but the other gave no sign of either fear or interest. There +followed a brief pause, in which the imagination might have conjured up +unseen forces gathering themselves together for a final onslaught. It came +at last, like a cry, suddenly, amidst a wild outburst of yells, screams, +and the intermittent crack of revolvers fired at close quarters. +Pandemonium had been let loose on the other side of the silver lake, but +the silver lake itself remained placid and untroubled. Only the red eye +winked more vigorously, as though its warning had become more imperative. + +Christine Stafford clung to a pair of unresponsive hands, which yielded +with an almost speaking reluctance to her embrace. + +"You think there is no hope?" she pleaded. "None? You know what Harry +said. If the regiment got back in time--" + +"The regiment will not get back in time," Margaret Caruthers interrupted. +"There are ten men guarding the gate against Heaven knows how many +thousand. Do you expect a miracle? No, no. We are a people who dance best +at the edge of a crater, and if a few, like ourselves, get swallowed up +now and again, it can not be helped. It is the penalty." + +"If only Harry would come!" Christine moaned, heedless of this cold +philosophy. "But he will keep his promise, won't he? He won't let us fall +into those cruel hands? You remember what happened at Calcutta--" + +"Hush! Don't frighten yourself and me!" exclaimed Margaret impatiently. +"Does it comfort you to hold my hand? Well, hold it, then. How strange you +are! I thought you weren't afraid." + +"I shan't be when the time comes--but it's so very lonely. Don't you feel +it? Are you made of stone?" + +Margaret Caruthers set her teeth hard. + +"I would to God I were!" she said. All at once she wrenched her hand free +and pointed with it. Her arm, stretched out into the light, had a curious, +ghostly effect. "Look!" she cried. + +The red eye winked rapidly in succession, once, twice, three times, and +then closed--this time for ever. An instant later two dark spots darted +out into the brightly lighted space and came at headlong pace toward them. +Christine sprang to her feet, and the two women clung to each other, +obeying for that one moment the instinct which can bind devil to saint. +But it was an English voice which greeted them from the now darkened +doorway. + +"It's all over!" Steven Caruthers said, entering with his companion and +slamming the door sharply to. "We have five minutes more. Mackay has +promised to keep them off just so long. Stafford, see to your wife!" He +spoke brutally, in a voice choked with dust and pain. The room was now in +pitch darkness. Harry Stafford felt his way across, his arms outstretched. + +"Christine!" he called. + +She came to him at once, with a step as firm and steady as a man's. + +"Harry!" she cried, her voice ringing with an almost incredulous joy. "Oh, +my darling!" + +He caught her to him and felt how calm her pulse had become. + +"Are you afraid, my wife?" + +"Not now. I am so happy!" + +He knew, strange though it seemed, that this was true and natural, because +her love was stronger than life or the fear of death. + +"Do you trust me absolutely, Christine?" + +"Absolutely!" + +"Give me both your hands--in my one hand--so. Kiss me, sweetheart." + +In the same instant that his lips touched hers he lifted his right +disengaged hand, and something icy-cold brushed past her temple. She clung +to him. + +"Not yet, Harry! Not yet! Oh, don't think I don't understand. I do, and I +am glad. If things had gone differently the time must have come when one +of us would have been left lonely. Now, we are going together. What does +it matter if it is a little sooner than we hoped? Only, not yet--just one +minute! We have time. Do not let us waste it. Let us kneel down and say +'Our Father,' and then--for little John--" Her voice broke. +"Afterward--when you think fit, husband, I shall be ready." + +He put his arm about her, and they knelt down side by side at the little +couch. Christine prayed aloud, and he followed her, his deeper voice +hushed to a whisper. + +The two other occupants of the room did not heed them. They, too, had +found each other. At her husband's entrance Margaret Caruthers had crept +back to the wall and had remained there motionless, not answering to his +sharp, imperative call. He groped around the room, and when at length his +hands touched her face, both drew back as one total stranger from another. + +"Why did you not answer?" he asked hoarsely. "Are you not aware that any +moment may be our last?" + +"Yes," she said. + +"I have something I wish to say to you, Margaret, before the time comes." + +"I am listening." + +"I wish to say if at any period in our unfortunate married life I have +done you wrong, I am sorry." + +She made no answer. + +"I ask your forgiveness." + +"I forgive you." + +The sound of firing outside had grown fainter, the shrieks louder, more +exultant, mingling like an unearthly savage chorus with the hushed voices +By the couch. + +--"Thy will be done--" prayed Christine valiantly. + +Margaret Caruthers lifted her head and laughed. + +"Don't laugh!" her husband burst out. "Pray now, if you have ever prayed +in your life. You have need of prayers." He lifted his arm as he spoke; +but, as though she guessed his intention, she sprang out of his reach. + +"No!" she said, in a voice concentrated with passion. "I am not going to +die like that. Stafford can shoot his wife down like a piece of blind +cattle if he thinks fit--but not you. I won't die by your hand, Steven. I +hate you too much." + +"Hush!" he exclaimed. "The account between us is settled." + +"Do you think I can begin to love you just because we are both about to +die?" + +"You are my wife," he answered, grasping her by the wrists. "There are +things worse than death, and from them I shall shield you, whether you +will or not." + +"Is it not enough that you have taken my life once?" she retorted. + +"What do you mean? How dare you say that!" + +"I say it because it is true. I have never lived--never. You killed me +years ago--all that was best in me. Save your soul from a second murder." + +"If you live, do you know what may lie before you?" + +"You talk of things 'worse than death.' What shame, what misery could be +worse than the years spent at your side?" + +"You are mad, Margaret. I shall pay no attention to you. I must save you +against your will." + +All through the hurried dialogue neither had spoken above a whisper. Even +in that moment they obeyed the habit of a lifetime, hiding hatred and +bitterness beneath a mask of apparent calm. Without a sound, but with a +frantic strength, Margaret wrenched herself free. + +"Leave me to my own fate!" she demanded, in the same passionate undertone. +"You have ceased to be responsible for me." + +He made one last effort to hold her. In the same instant the firing ceased +altogether. There followed the roar and crash of bursting timber, the +pattering of naked feet, the fanatic yells drawing every second nearer. + +"Margaret!" he cried wildly, holding out his revolver in the darkness. +"If not at my hands, then at your own. Save yourself--" + +"I shall save myself, have no fear!" she answered, with a bitter, +terrible laugh. + +From the couch Christine Stafford's voice rose peacefully: + +"Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!" + +Another voice answered, "Amen!" There was the report of a revolver and a +sudden, startling stillness. It lasted only a breathing space. Furious +shoulders hurled themselves against the frail, weakly barred door. It +cracked, bulged inward, with a bursting, tearing sound, yielded. The +moonlight flooded into the little room, throwing up into bold relief the +three upright figures and the little heap that knelt motionless by the +couch. + +The crowd of savage faces hesitated, faltering an instant before the +sahibs who yesterday had been their lords and masters. Then the sahibs +fired. It was all that was needed. The room filled. There was one stifled +groan--no more than that. No cry for mercy, no whining. + +Little by little the room emptied again. The cries and bloodthirsty +screams of triumphant vengeance died slowly in the distance, the grey +moonlight resumed its peaceful sovereignty. Only here and there were +dark stains its silver could not wash away. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE DANCING IS RESUMED. + + +"Oh, I love India--adore it, simply!" Mrs. Cary exclaimed, in the tone of +a person who, usually self-controlled, finds himself overwhelmed by the +force of his own enthusiasm. "There is something so mystic, so enthralling +about it, don't you think? I always feel as though I were wandering +through a chapter of the _Arabian Nights_ full of gorgeous princes, +wicked robbers, genii, or whatever you call them. Isn't it so with you, +Mrs. Carmichael?" + +Her hostess, a thin, alert little woman with a bony, weather-beaten face, +cast an anxious glance at the rest of her guests scattered about the +garden. + +"There aren't any robbers about here--except my cook," she said +prosaically. "My husband wouldn't allow such a thing in his department, +and in mine he is no good at all. As for the princes, we don't see +anything of the only one this region boasts of. He may be gorgeous, but I +really can not say for certain." + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Cary, with a placid smile. "You have been in fairyland too +long, dear Mrs. Carmichael. That's what's the matter with you. You are +beginning to look upon it as a very ordinary, everyday place. If you only +knew what it is to come to it with a virgin heart and mind-thirsting for +impressions, as it were. That is how we feel, do we not, Beatrice?" She +half turned to the girl standing at her side, as though seeking to draw +her into the conversation. + +"It is indeed new for _me_," the latter answered shortly, and with slight +emphasis on the personal pronoun. + +"I was about to remark that this is scarcely your first visit to India," +Mrs. Carmichael put in. "I understood that your late husband had a +government appointment somewhere in the South?" + +Mrs. Cary's heavy face flushed, though whether with heat or annoyance it +was not easy to judge. + +"Of course--a very excellent appointment, too--but the place and the +people!" She became confidential and her voice sank, though beyond +her daughter there was no one within hearing. "Between you and me, +Mrs. Carmichael, the people were _dreadful_. You know, I am not +snobbish--indeed I must confess to quite democratic tendencies, which +my family always greatly deplores--but I really couldn't stand the +people. I had to go back to England with Beatrice. The place was filled +with subordinate railway officials. Don't you hate subordinates, dear +Mrs. Carmichael?" + +Mrs. Carmichael stared, during which process her eyes happened to fall +on Beatrice Cary's half-averted face. She was surprised to find that +the somewhat thin lips were smiling--though not agreeably. + +"I really don't know what you mean by 'subordinates,'" Mrs. Carmichael +said, in her uncompromising way. "Most people are subordinates at some +time or other. My husband was a lieutenant once. I don't remember +objecting to him. At any rate," she continued hastily, as though to cut +the conversation short, "I hope you will like the people here." + +"I'm sure I shall. A military circle is always so delightful. That is what +I said to Beatrice when I felt that I must revisit the scene of my girlish +days. 'We must go somewhere where there is military.' Of course, we might +have gone to Simla--I have influential friends there, you know--but I +wanted my girl to see a real bit of genuine India, and Simla is _so_ +modern. Really a great pity, I think. I am so passionately fond of color +and picturesqueness--comfort is nothing to me. As my husband used to say, +'Oh, Mary, you are always putting your artistic feelings before material +necessities.' Poor fellow, he used to miss his creature comforts +sometimes, I fear." + +Her laugh, painfully resembling a giggle, interrupted her own garrulity, +which was finally put to an end by a fresh arrival. A slight, +daintily-clad figure had detached itself from a group of guests and came +running toward them. Mrs. Carmichael's deeply lined, somewhat severe face +lighted up. + +"That is my husband's ward, Lois Caruthers," she said. "She has been with +me all her life, practically. As you are so fond of genuine India, you +must let her show you over the place. She knows all the dirtiest, and I +suppose most interesting corners, with their exact history." + +"Delightful!" murmured Mrs. Cary, with a gracious nod of her plumed +headgear. Nevertheless, she studied the small figure and animated features +of the new-comer with a critical severity not altogether in accordance +with her next remark, uttered, apparently under pressure of the same +irresistible enthusiasm, in an audible side whisper: "What a sweet +face--so piquant!" + +An adjective is a pliable weapon, and, in the hands of a woman, can be +made to mean anything under the sun. Mrs. Cary's "piquant"--pronounced +in a manner that was neither French nor English, but a startling mixture +of both--had a background to it of charitable patronage. It was meant, +without doubt, to be a varnished edition of "plain," perhaps even "ugly," +though Lois Caruthers deserved neither insinuation. Possibly too small in +build, she was yet graceful, and there was a lithe, elastic energy in her +movements which drew attention to her even among more imposing figures. +Possibly, also, she was too dark for the English ideal. Her black hair and +large brown eyes, together with the unrelieved pallor of her complexion, +gave her appearance something that was exotic but not unpleasing. _Enfin,_ +as most people admitted, she had her charm; and her moods, which ranged +from the most light-hearted gaiety to the deepest gravity, could be +equally irresistible. She was light-hearted enough now, however, as she +smiled from one to the other, including mother and daughter in her +friendly greeting, though as yet both were strangers to her. + +"I have come to fetch you, Aunt Harriet," she said, addressing Mrs. +Carmichael. "Mr. Travers has got some great scheme on hand which he will +only disclose in your presence. We are all gasping with curiosity. Will +you please come?" + +Mrs. Carmichael nodded. + +"I will come at once," she said. "I'm sure it's only one of Mr. Travers' +breakneck schemes, but they are always amusing to listen to. Lois, come +and be introduced. My adopted niece--Mrs. Cary--Miss Cary." + +They shook hands. + +"Lois, when there is time, I want you to do the honors of Marut. Miss Cary +especially has as yet seen nothing, and there is a great deal of interest. +You know--" turning to her visitors--"Marut is supposed to have been the +hotbed of the last rising." + +"Indeed!" murmured Mrs. Cary vaguely. "How delightful!" + +Lois Caruthers laughed, not without a shadow of bitterness. + +"It was hardly delightful at the time, I should imagine," she observed. +"But what there is to see I shall be very glad to show you. Will any day +suit you?" + +"Oh, yes, any day," Beatrice Cary assented, speaking almost for the first +time. "I have nothing to do here from morning to night." + +"That will soon change," Lois said, walking by her side. "I am always +busy, either playing tennis, or riding, or getting up some entertainment. +The difficulty is to find time to rest." + +"You must be a very much sought-after person," Beatrice observed, in the +tone of a person who is making a graceful compliment. The hint of irony, +however, was unmistakable. + +"I am not more sought after than any one else," Lois returned, unruffled. +"Every one has to help in the work of frivolity." + +"I shall be rather out of it, then," Beatrice said coolly. "I am not +amusing." + +"It is quite sufficient to be willing, good-natured and good-humored," +Lois answered. + +They had by this time reached the group under the trees, where Mrs. +Carmichael and her companion had already arrived, under the escort of +a tall, stoutly built man, who was talking and apparently explaining +with great vigor. As Lois entered the circle, he glanced up and smiled +at her, revealing a handsome, cheerful face, singularly fresh-colored +in comparison with the deep tan of the other men. + +"That is Mr. Travers," Lois explained. "He is a bank director or +something in Madras, and has been on a long business visit north. +He is awfully clever and popular, and gets up everything." + +"Rich, I suppose?" + +Lois glanced up at her companion. The beautiful profile and the tone +of the remark seemed incongruous. + +"I don't know," she said rather abruptly. "He has four polo ponies. +Nobody else has more than two." + +"Do you calculate wealth by polo ponies, then?" + +Lois laughed. + +"Yes, we do pretty well," she said--"that is, when we bother about such +things at all. Most people are poor, and if they aren't, they have to live +beyond their income, so it comes to the same in the end." + +"Everybody looks cheerful enough," Beatrice Cary observed. "I always +thought poverty and worry went together." + +"Who is that talking about poverty and worry?" asked a voice behind them. +"Is it you, Miss Caruthers? If so, I shall arraign you as a disturber of +the peace. Who wants to be bothered with the memory of his empty purse on +such a lovely day?" + +Lois turned with a smile to the new-comer. + +"No, I am innocent, Captain Stafford," she said. "It was Miss Cary who +brought up the terms you object to." + +"Well, won't you introduce me, then, so that I can express my displeasure +direct to the culprit?" + +The ceremony of introduction was gone through, on Beatrice Cary's side +with a sudden change of manner. Hitherto cold, indifferent, slightly +supercilious, she now relaxed into a gentleness that was almost appealing. + +"This is a new world for me," she said, looking up into Captain Stafford's +amused face, "and I have so many questions to ask that I am afraid of +turning into a mark of interrogation, or--as you said--a disturber of +the peace." + +"You won't ask questions long," he answered, with a wise shake of the +head. "Nobody does. Wherever English people go they take their whole +paraphernalia with them; and you will find that, with a few superficial +differences, Marut is no more or less than a snug little English suburb. +A little more freedom of intercourse--a little less Philistinism, +perhaps--but the foundations are the same. As to India itself, one soon +learns to forget all about it." + +He then turned to Lois, who was intent on watching Mr. Travers. + +"You weren't on the race-course this morning," he said in an undertone. +"I missed you. Why did you not come?" + +"I couldn't," she said. "There was too much to be done. We are rather +short of servants just now, for reasons--well, that, according to you, +ought not to be mentioned on a fine day." + +He laughed, but not as he had hitherto done. There was another tone in +his voice, warmer, more confidential. It attracted Beatrice Cary's +attention, and she looked curiously from Lois to the man beside her. +About thirty-five, with a passably good figure, irregular, if honest, +features, and an expression usually somewhat grave, he made no pretensions +to any exterior advantage. He could apparently be gay, as now, but his +gaiety did not conceal the fact that it was unusual. Altogether, he had +nothing about him which appealed to her, but Beatrice Cary was inclined +to resent Lois' obvious intimacy with him as something which accentuated +her own isolation. + +"Can you make out what Mr. Travers is saying?" Lois asked, turning +suddenly to her. "I can't hear a word, and I'm sure it's awfully +interesting. Captain Stafford, do you know?" + +"I can guess," he answered, half smiling. "When Travers has a suggestion +to make, it usually means that some one has to stump up." + +There was a general laugh. Travers looked around. + +"Some one has accused me falsely," he declared. "I have a prophetic sense +of injury." + +"On the contrary, that is what I am suffering from," Stafford retorted. +"Since hearing that you have a new scheme, I have been hastily reckoning +how many weeks' leave I shall have to sacrifice to pay for it." + +Travers shook his head. + +"As usual--wrong, my dear Captain," he said. "My scheme has two parts. The +first part is known to you all, though for the benefit of weak memories, I +will repeat it. Ladies and gentlemen, in this Station we have the honor of +being protected from the malice of the aborigine by two noble regiments. +We count, moreover, at least thirty of the fair sex and forty +miscellaneous persons, such as miserable civilians like myself, and +children. Hitherto, we have been content to meet at odd times and odd +places. When hospitality has run dry, we have resorted to a shed-like +structure dignified with the name of club. Personally, I call it a +disgrace, which should at once be rectified." + +"I have already contributed my mite!" protested a young subaltern from the +British regiment. + +"I know; so has everybody. With strenuous efforts I have collected the sum +of five hundred rupees. That won't do. We require at least four times that +sum. Consequently, we must have a patron." + +"The second part of your programme concerns the patron, then?" Captain +Webb inquired, with an aspect of considerable relief. "Not yourself, by +any chance?" + +"Certainly not. If I had any noble inclinations of that sort I should have +discovered them a long time ago. No, I content myself with taking the part +of a fairy godmother." + +"I'm afraid I don't follow," Stafford put in. "What is the fairy godmother +going to do for us? Produce a club-house, a patron, or a cucumber?" + +"A patron, and one, my dear fellow, whom I should have entirely overlooked +had it not been for you." + +"For me!" + +"It was you who made the discovery that the present Rajah is not, as we +thought, an imbecilic youth, but a man of many parts and splendidly +adapted to our requirements." + +"I protest!" broke in Stafford, with unusual earnestness. "It was by pure +chance that, in an audience with the Maharajah Scindia, the late regent of +Marut, I got to hear that his whilom ward was both intelligent and +cultured. I believe it was a slip on his part, and, seeing that Rajah +Nehal Singh has shunned all English intercourse, I can not see that there +is any likelihood of his adapting himself or his purse to your plans." + +"Oh, bosh!" exclaimed Travers impatiently. "You are too cautious, +Stafford. Other rajahs interest themselves in social matters--why not this +one? He is fabulously rich, I understand, and a little gentle handling +should easily bring him around." + +There was a chorus of bravos, in which only one or two did not join. One +was Colonel Carmichael, who stood a little apart, pulling his thin grey +moustache in the nervous, anxious way peculiar to him, his kindly face +overshadowed. + +"On principle," he began, after the first applause had died down, "I am +against the suggestion. Of course, I have no deciding voice in the matter, +but I confess that the idea has not my approval. I know very well that, as +you say, other native princes have proved themselves useful and valuable +acquisitions to English society. In some cases it may be well enough, +though in no case does it seem to me right to accept hospitality from a +man to whom we only grant an apparent equality. In this particular case I +consider the idea--well, repulsive." + +"May I ask why, Colonel?" Travers asked sharply. + +"By all means. Because less than a quarter of a century ago the father of +the man from whom you are seeking gifts slaughtered by treachery hundreds +of our own people." + +An uncomfortable, uneasy silence followed. Captain Stafford and Lois +exchanged a quick glance of understanding. + +"I know of at least two people who will agree with me," continued the +Colonel, who had intercepted and possibly anticipated the glance. + +"You are right, Colonel," Stafford said. "I bear no malice, and any idea +of revenge seems to me foolish. As far as I know, the present Rajah is all +that can be desired, but I protest against a suggestion--and what is +worse, a practice, which must inevitably lower our dignity in the eyes of +those we are supposed to govern." + +The awkward silence continued for a moment, no one caring to express a +contrary opinion, though a contrary opinion undoubtedly existed. + +Beatrice looked up at Captain Webb, who happened to be standing at her +side. Her acquaintance with him dated only from an hour back, but an +uncontrollable irritation made her voice her opinions to him. + +"I think all that sort of thing rather overstrained and unnecessary," she +said. "Your chief business is to get the best out of life, and quixotic +people who worry about the means are rather a nuisance, don't you think?" + +Captain Webb's bored features lighted up with a faint amusement. + +"O, Lor', you mustn't say that sort of thing to me, Miss Cary!" he said in +a subdued aside. "Superior officer, you know! If you want an index to my +feelings, study my countenance." He pretended to smother a gigantic yawn, +and Beatrice's cool, unchecked laughter broke the constraint. + +Travers look around with a return of his old good-humor. + +"Well," he said, "I have two votes against my plans, but, with due +respect to those two, who are, perhaps, unduly influenced by unfortunate +circumstances, I feel that it is only just that the others should be +given a voice in the matter. Do you agree, Colonel?" + +Colonel Carmichael had by this time regained his placid, gentle manner. + +"Certainly," he agreed, without hesitation. + +"Hands up, then, for letting Rajah Nehal Singh go his way in peace!" + +Three hands went up--Colonel Carmichael's, Stafford's and Lois'. Beatrice +glanced at the latter with a smile that expressed what it was meant to +express--a supercilious amusement. Her indifference was rapidly taking +another and more decided character. + +"Hands up for drawing the bashful youth into Circe's circle!" called +Travers, now thoroughly elated. A forest of hands went up. Captain Webb +and his bosom comrade, Captain Saunders, who, for diplomatic reasons had +remained neutral, exchanged grins. "You see," Travers said, turning with +deferential politeness to the Colonel, "the day is against you." + +"The Old Guard dies, but never surrenders!" quoted the Colonel +good-humoredly. + +"The next question is, on whose shoulders shall the task of beguilement +fall?" Travers went on, glancing at Stafford. "I suppose you, O, wise +young judge--?" + +"It is out of the question," Stafford answered at once. "I consider I have +done enough damage already." + +"What about your serpent's tongue, Travers?" suggested Webb. "When I think +of the follies you have tempted me to commit, I feel that you should be +unanimously elected." + +Travers bowed his acknowledgments with mock gravity. + +"Since there are no other candidates, I accept the onerous task," he said, +"but I can not go about it single-handed. The serpent's tongue may be +mine, but I lack, I fear, the grace and personal charm necessary for +complete conquest. I need the help of Circe, herself." His bright, +bird-like eye passed over the laughing group, resting on Lois an instant +with an expression of woebegone regret. Beatrice Cary was the next in +line, and his search went no farther than her flushed, eager face. "Ah!" +he exclaimed, "I have found the enchantress herself! Miss----" He +hesitated, for an instant unaccountably shaken out of his debonair +self-possession. Webb sprang to the rescue with a formal introduction, and +Travers proceeded, if not entirely with his old equanimity. "I beg your +pardon, Miss Cary," he apologized. "Your face is, strangely enough, so +familiar to me that I took you for an old acquaintance--perhaps, indeed, +you are, if in our modern days Circe finds it necessary to travel +incognito." + +Beatrice joined in the general amusement, her unusually large and +beautiful eyes bright with elation. + +"May I claim your assistance?" Travers went on. "Instinct tells me that we +shall be irresistible." + +"Willingly," Beatrice responded, "though I can not imagine how I can help +you." + +"Leave that to me," he said, offering her his arm. "My plans are +Napoleonic in their depth and magnitude. If you will allow me to unfold +them to you before the dancing begins--?" + +She smiled her assent, and walked at his side toward the Colonel's +bungalow. On their way they passed Mrs. Cary, who, strangely enough, did +not respond to the half-triumphant glance which her daughter cast at her. +She turned hastily aside. + +"Mr. Travers is no doubt--" she began, in a confidential undertone; but +her companion, Mrs. Carmichael, had taken the opportunity and vanished. + +The light-hearted, superficial discussion, with its scarcely felt +undercurrent of tragic reminiscence, had lasted through the swift sunset, +and already dusk was beginning to throw its long shadows over the gaily +dressed figures that streamed up toward the bungalow. + +On the outskirts of the garden lights were springing up in quick +succession, thanks to the industry of Mrs. Carmichael, who hurried from +one Chinese lantern to the other, breathless but determined. The task was +doubtless an ignominious one for an Anglo-Indian lady of position, but +Mrs. Carmichael, who acted as a sort of counterbalance to her husband's +extravagant hospitality, cared not at all. England, half-pay and all its +attendant horrors, loomed in the near future, and economy had to be +practised somehow. + +Of the late group only Lois and John Stafford remained. They had not +spoken, but, as though obeying a mutual understanding, both remained +quietly waiting till they were alone. + +"Shall we walk about a little?" he asked at last. "I missed our morning +ride so much. It has put my whole day out of joint, and I want something +to put it straight again. Do you mind, or would you rather dance? I see +they have begun." + +"No," she said. "I would rather be quiet for a few minutes. Somehow I have +lost the taste for that sort of thing to-night." + +"I also," he responded. + +They walked silently side by side along the well-kept path, each immersed +in his own thoughts and soothed by the knowledge that their friendship had +reached a height where silence is permitted--becomes even the purest form +of expression. At the bottom of the compound they reached a large, +low-built building, evidently once a dwelling-place, overgrown with wild +plants and half in ruins, whose dim outlines stood out against the +darkening background of trees and sky. The door stood open, and must +indeed have stood open for many years, for the broken hinges were rusty +and seemed to be clinging to the torn woodwork only by the strength of +undisturbed custom. + +Stafford came to a halt. + +"That is where--" he began, and then abruptly left his sentence +unfinished. + +"Yes," she said, "it is here. I don't think, as long as we live in India, +that my guardian will ever have it touched. He calls it the Memorial. My +father was his greatest friend, and the terrible fact that he came too +late to save him has saddened his whole life." + +Stafford looked down at her. The light from a lantern which Mrs. +Carmichael, with great dexterity, had fixed among some overhanging +branches, fell on the dark features, now composed and thoughtful. She met +his glance in silence, with large eyes that had taken into their depths +something of the surrounding shadow. He had never felt so strongly before +the peculiarity of her fascination--perhaps because he had never seen her +in a setting which seemed so entirely a part of herself. The distant +music, the hum of voices, and that strange charm which permeates an Indian +nightfall--above all, the ruined bungalow with its shattered door and +silent memories--these things, with their sharp contrasts of laughter and +tragedy, had formed themselves into a background which belonged to her, so +that she and they seemed inseparable. + +"Oh, Lois, little girl!" Stafford said gently. "I have always thought of +you as standing alone, different from everything and everybody, a stranger +from another world, irresistible, incomprehensible. I have just understood +that you are part and parcel of it all, child of the sun and flowers and +mysteries and wonders. It is I who am the stranger!" + +"Hush!" she said, in a voice of curious pain. "Hush! Let us go back. We +must dance--whether we will or not." + +He followed her without protest. The very rustle of her muslin skirts over +the fallen leaves made for his ears a new and fantastic music. + +Close behind them wandered the two captains, Webb and Saunders, arm in +arm. At the entrance to Colonel Carmichael's Memorial Webb stopped, and, +striking a match against the door, proceeded to light his cigar. The tiny +flame lit up for an instant the languid patrician features. + +"A cigar is one's only comfort in a dull affair like this," he remarked, +as they resumed their leisurely promenade. "Awful wine, wasn't it?" + +"Awful. The Colonel is beginning to put on the curb--or his lady. It's the +same thing." + +"It will be better when the club comes into existence," said Webb, blowing +consolatory clouds of smoke into the quiet air. + +"It is to be hoped so. Spunky devil, that Travers. Wonder how he means to +do the trick. He knows how to pick out a pretty partner, anyhow." + +"That Cary girl? Yes. Wait till the heat has dried her up, though. She'll +be a scarecrow, like the rest of them. By the way, what were her people?" + +"Heaven knows--something in the D.P.W., I believe. The mother was dressed +in the queerest kit." + +"I heard her talking about 'the gentlemen,'" remarked Webb, laughing, as +they went up the steps of the bungalow together. + +The Memorial was once more left to its shadows and silence. At the edge of +the compound a group of natives peered through the fencing, watching and +listening. Their dark faces expressed neither hatred nor admiration, nor +sorrow, nor pleasure--at most, a dull wonder. + +When they were tired of watching, they passed noiselessly on their way. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +NEHAL SINGH + + +The Royal apartment was prepared for the suffocating midday heat. Heavy +hangings had been pulled across the door which led on to the balcony, and +only at one small aperture the sunshine ventured to pierce through and +dance its golden reflection hither and thither over the marble floor. The +rest was hidden in the semi-obscurity of a starlit night, which, like a +transparent veil, half conceals and half reveals an untold richness and +splendor. + +At either side slender Moorish pillars rose to the lofty ceiling, and from +their capitals winking points of light shimmered through the shadows. +Fantastic designs sprang into sudden prominence on the walls, shifting +with the shifting of the sunshine, and at the far end, raised by steps +from the level of the floor, stood a throne, alone marked out against the +darkness by its bejeweled splendor. Of other furniture there was no +trace. To the left a divan formed of silken cushions had been built up for +temporary use, and on this, stretched full length on his side, lay an old +man whose furrowed visage appeared doubly dark and sinister beneath the +dead white of his turban. His head was half supported on a pillow, and +thus at his ease he watched with unblinking, unflagging attention the +tall, slight figure by the doorway. + +It was the Rajah himself who had let in the one point of daylight. It fell +full upon his face and set into a brilliant blaze the single diamond on +the nervous, muscular hand which held the curtain aside. Apparently he had +forgotten his companion, and indeed everything save the scene on which his +eyes rested. Beneath the balcony, like steps to a mighty altar, broad and +beautiful terraces descended in stately gradations to a paradise of rare +exotic flowers, whose heavy perfume came drifting up on the calm air to +the very windows of the palace. This lovely chaos extended for about a +mile and then ended abruptly. As though cultivated nature had suddenly +broken loose from her artificial bounds, a dark jungle-forest rose up side +by side with the flowers and well-kept walks, and like a black stain +spread itself into the distance, swallowing up hill and valley until the +eye lost itself in the haze of the horizon. Within a few hundred yards of +the palace a ruined Hindu temple lifted its dome and crumbling towers into +the intense blue of the sky. And on garden, jungle, and temple alike the +scorching midday sun blazed down with pitiless impartiality. + +For an hour the Rajah had remained watching the unchanging scene, scarcely +for an instant shifting his own position. One hand rested on his hip, the +other held back the curtain and supported him in a half-leaning attitude +of dreamy indolence. Against the intensified darkness of the room behind +him his features stood out with the distinctness of a finely cut cameo. A +man of about twenty-five years, he yet seemed younger, thanks, perhaps, to +his expression, which was extraordinarily untroubled. + +Thought, poetic and philosophic, but never tempestuous, sat in the dark, +well-shaped eyes and high, intellectual forehead. Humor, sorrow, care, +anxiety and doubt, the children of a strenuous life, had left his face +singularly unscarred with their characteristic lines. For the rest, beyond +that he was unusually fair, he represented in bearing and in feature a +Hindu prince of high caste and noble lineage. Between him and the old man +upon the divan there was no apparent resemblance. The latter was +considerably darker, and lacked both the refinement of feature and dignity +of expression which distinguished the younger man. Nevertheless, when he +spoke it was in the tone of familiarity, almost of paternal authority. + +"Art thou not weary, my son?" he asked abruptly. "For an hour thou hast +neither moved nor spoken. Tell me with what thy thoughts are concerned. I +would fain know, and thy face has told me nothing." + +Nehal Singh let the curtain fall back into its place, and the yellow patch +of sunshine upon the marble faded. He looked at his companion steadfastly, +but with eyes that saw nothing. + +"My thoughts!" he repeated, in a low, musical voice. "My thoughts are +valueless. They are like caged birds which have beaten their wings against +the bars of their cage and now sit on their golden perches and dream of +the world beyond." He laughed gently. "No, my father. You, who have seen +the world, would mock at them as dim, unreal reflections of a reality +which you have touched and handled. For me they are beautiful enough." + +The old man lifted himself on his elbow. + +"Thinkest thou never of thyself?" he asked. "In thy dreams hast thou never +seen thine own form rise at the call of thy waiting people?" + +"My waiting people!" Nehal Singh repeated, with a smile and a faint +lifting of the eyebrows. "No people wait for me, my father. So much I have +learned. I bear a title, a tract of land acknowledges my rule--but a +people! No, like my title, like my power, like myself, so is the people +that thou sayest await me--a dream, my father, a dream!" He spoke gravely, +without sadness, the same gentle, wistful smile playing about his lips. + +The other sank back with a groan. + +"The All-Highest pity me!" he exclaimed bitterly. "A child of blood and +battle, without energy, without ambition!" + +Nehal Singh, who had paced forward to the foot of the throne, turned and +looked back. + +"Ambition I have had," he answered, "energy I have had. Like my thoughts, +they have beaten themselves weary against the bars of their cage. What +would you have me do?" He strode back to the door, and, pulling aside the +curtain, let the full dazzling sunshine pour in upon them. "See out +there!" he cried. "Is it not a sight to bring peace to the soul of the +poet and the dreamer? But for the warrior? Can he draw his sword against +flowers and trees?" + +The old man smiled coldly, but not without satisfaction. + +"There is a world that awaiteth thee beyond," he said. + +"A world of which I know nothing." + +"The time cometh." + +Nehal Singh studied the wrinkled face with a new intentness. + +"Hitherto thou hast always held a barrier between the world and me," he +said. "When the call to the Durbar came, it was thou who bade me say I was +ill. When the Feringhi sought my presence, it was thou who held fast my +door, first with one excuse, then with another. And now? I do not +understand thee." + +Behar Asor struggled up into a sitting posture, his features rendered more +malignant by a glow of fierce triumph. + +"Ay, the barrier has been there!" he cried. "It is I who have held it +erect all these years when they thought me dead and powerless. It is I who +have kept thee spotless and undefiled, Nehal Singh, thou alone of all thy +race and of all thy caste! The shadow of the Unbeliever has never crossed +thy man's face, his food thy lips, nor has his hand touched thy man's +hand. Thou art the chosen of Brahma, and when the hour striketh and the +Holy War proclaimed from east to west and from north to south, then it +shall be _thy_ sword--" + +Nehal Singh held up his hand with a gesture of command. + +"Thou also art a dreamer," he said firmly. "Thy heart is full of an old +hatred and an old injury. My heart is free from both. Seest thou, my +father, there were years when thy words called up some echo in me. Thou +toldest me of the Feringhi, of the bloody battles thou foughtest against +them because they had wronged thee; how, after Fortune had smiled faintly, +thou wert driven into exile, and I, thy son, bereft of all save pomp and +title, placed upon thy empty throne. These things made my blood boil. In +those days I thought and planned for the great hour when I should seek +revenge for thee and for myself. That is all past." + +"Why all past?" Behar Asor demanded. + +"Because the truth drifted in to me from the outer world. I saw that +everywhere there was peace such as my land, even after thy account, has +rarely known. Law and order reigned where there had been plundering and +devastation, prosperity where there had been endless famine. More than +this, I saw that in every conflict, whether between beast and beast or man +and man, it was always the strongest and wisest that conquered. The +triumph of the fool and weakling is but a short one, nor is the rule of +crime and wickedness of long duration. Why, then, should I throw myself +against a people who have brought my people prosperity, and who have +proved themselves in peace and war our masters in courage and wisdom?" + +Behar Asor struggled up, galvanized by a storm of passion which shook his +fragile frame from head to foot. + +"Thou art still no more than an ignorant boy," he exclaimed. "What knowest +thou of these things?" + +"I have read of Englishmen whose deeds outrival the legends of Krishna," +Nehal Singh answered thoughtfully. "They fought in your time, my father. +Thou knowest them better than I." + +The old man ground his teeth together. + +"They are dead." There was a reluctant admiration in his tone. + +"Nevertheless, their sons live." + +"The sons inherit not always the courage of their fathers," Behar Asor +answered, with a bitter significance. + +Nehal Singh had wandered back to the throne, as though drawn thither by +some irresistible attraction, and stood there motionless, his arms folded +across his breast. + +"Do not blame me," he said at last. "No man can go against himself. Were +it in my power, I would do thy will. As it is, without cause or reason I +can not draw my sword against men whose fathers have made my heart beat +with sympathy and admiration." + +Behar Asor sank back in an attitude of absolute despair. + +"I am accursed!" he said. + +With a smothered sigh, Nehal Singh mounted the steps and seated himself. +In his attitude also there was a hopelessness--not indeed the hopelessness +of a man whose plans are thwarted, but of one who is keenly conscious that +he has no plans, no goal, no purpose. As he sat there, his fine head +thrown back against the white ivory, his eyes half closed, his fingers +loosely clasping the golden peacocks' heads which formed the arms of his +throne, there was, as he had said, something dreamlike and unreal about +his whole person, intensified perhaps by the dim atmosphere and shadowy +splendor of his surroundings. + +Behar Asor had ceased to watch him, but lay motionless, with his face +covered by the white mantle which he wore about his shoulders. The first +storm of angry disappointment over, he had relapsed into a passive +oriental acceptance of the inevitable, which did not, however, exclude an +undercurrent of bitter brooding and contempt. + +Some time passed before either of the two men spoke. At last Behar Asor +lifted his head and glanced quickly sidewise at the figure seated on the +throne. Nehal Singh's eyes were now entirely closed and seemed to sleep. +Such a proceeding would have been excusable enough in the suffocating +heat, but the sight drove the old man into a fresh paroxysm of +indignation. + +"Sleepest thou, Nehal Singh?" he demanded, in a harsh, rasping voice. "Is +it not sufficient that thou hast failed thy destiny, but in the same hour +thou must close thine eyes and dream, like a child on whose shoulders rest +no duty, no responsibility? Awake! I have more to say to thee." + +Nehal Singh looked up. + +"I have not slept," he said gravely, "though, as to what concerns duty and +responsibility, I might well have done so, for I have neither the one nor +the other. Speak, I pray thee. I listen." + +Behar Asor remained silent a moment, biting his forefinger. There was +something in the action strongly reminiscent of a cunning, treacherous +animal. + +"Thou hast laughed at thine own power," he said at last, "though I have +sworn to thee that, as in my time, so today, the swords that sleep in a +hundred thousand sheathes would awake at thy word. They sleep because thou +sleepest. Well--thou hast willed to sleep. I can not force thee, and mine +own hand has grown too feeble. But since thou hast chosen peace, remember +this, that it can last only with thy lifetime. So long thy people will be +patient. Afterward--" He shrugged his shoulders significantly. + +"Thou hast more to tell me," Nehal Singh said. + +"If thou wilt keep peace in thy land, see to it that thou hast children +who will carry it on for thee after thou hast passed into the shadow," +Behar answered. "Hitherto thou hast led a strange and lonely life, +preparing as I willed for the destiny thou hast cast aside. Take now unto +thee a companion--a wife." + +As though clumsy, untutored fingers which had until now tortured some fine +instrument had suddenly, perhaps by chance, perhaps by instinct, struck a +pure harmonious chord, Nehal Singh rose to his feet, his weary dreamer's +face transfigured with a new light and new energy. + +"A wife!" he said under his breath. "A woman! I know nothing of women. In +all my life I have seen but two--my mother and a nautch-girl--who cringed +to me. I should not like my wife to cringe to me. Are there not such as +could be my companion, my comrade? Or are they all servile slaves?" + +Behar Asor laughed shortly and contemptuously. + +"They are our inferiors," he said, "hence they can not be more than +companions for our idle hours. But you will have idle hours enough, and +there would be many who would call themselves blessed to share themselves +with thee. A great alliance--" + +Nehal Singh interrupted him with the old gesture of authority. + +"Thou hast said enough, my father," he said. "I will think upon it. Until +then--leave me my peace." + +With a slow, meditative step he went back to the curtained doorway and, +pulling aside the hangings, went out on to the balcony. It was four +o'clock, and already the heat of the day had broken. Long rays of sunlight +struck eastward across the garden and touched with their faded golden +fingers the topmost turrets of the temple. In the distance the shadows of +the jungle had advanced and, like the waves of a rising tide, seemed to +swallow up, step by step, the brightness of the prospect. Nehal Singh +descended the winding stair that led to the first terrace. Thence three +paths stretched themselves before him. He chose the central one, and with +bowed head passed between the high, half-wild, half-cultivated borders of +plants and shrubs. A faint evening breeze breathed its intangible perfume +against his cheek, and he looked up smiling. + +"A woman!" he murmured dreamily. "A woman!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CIRCE + + +The dominion over which Rajah Nehal Singh exercised his partial authority +was a tract of unfruitful land extending over about two hundred square +miles and sparely inhabited by a branch of the Aryan race which through +countless generations had kept itself curiously aloof from its neighbors. +The greater number were Hindus of the strictest type, and perhaps owing to +their natural conservatism they had succeeded in keeping their religion +comparatively free from the abuses and distortions which it was forced to +undergo in other regions. Up to the year 18--the state had been to all +practical purposes independent. Its poverty and unusual integral cohesion +made it at once a dangerous enemy and an undesirable dependent, which it +was tacitly agreed to let alone until such time when action should become +imperative. That time had come under the reign of Behar Asor--then Behar +Singh. This prince, who, his followers declared, could trace his descent +from Brahma himself, unexpectedly, after he had been living in +hand-in-glove friendship with his European neighbors, proclaimed a Holy +War, massacred all foreigners within his reach, and for eighteen long +months succeeded, by means of a species of guerrilla warfare, in keeping +the invading armies at bay. Partly owing to the unflagging determination +of the English troops, partly owing also to the intense hatred with which +he was regarded by all Mohammedans, he was eventually overcome, though he +himself was never captured. It was believed that he died while fleeing +through the vast jungles with which his land was overgrown, and this idea +was strengthened by the fact that, though a large reward for his capture +was offered, nothing further had ever been heard of him. + +From that time the land came under the more or less direct control of the +Government. As a concession to the population, Behar Singh's one-year-old +son was placed upon the throne under a native regency, but English +regiments were stationed at the chief towns, and a political agent resided +at the capital. Neither the regiments nor the political agent, however, +found any work for their hands to do. A calm, as unexpected as it was +complete, seemed to descend upon the whole country, and the officers who +had taken up their posts with a loaded revolver in each hand, figuratively +speaking, began very quickly to relapse instead into pig-sticking, polo +and cards. + +The climate was moderate, the vegetation beautiful if unprofitable, and +the sport excellent. Thus it came about that a danger spot on the map of +the Indian Empire became a European paradise, and that to be ordered to +Marut was to become an object of envious congratulations. Not, as Mr. +Archibald Travers had with justice complained, that the reigning prince, +as in other states, took any part in the general gaiety or in any way +enhanced the agreeableness of his capital. As far as was known, no +European eyes had ever lighted on him since his childhood. Under one +excuse and another he had been kept persistently in the background, his +place being taken first by the regent and then by succeeding ministers, +until it was generally supposed that the young Rajah was either afflicted +with some loathsome disease or mentally deficient, probabilities which the +Government, with unpleasant recollections of Behar Singh's too great +intelligence, accepted with unusual readiness. There were no causes for +suspicion. The Rajah never left the precincts of his palace garden, a +piece of land whose cultivation had cost untold sums, and which, together +with the Hindu temple, was supposed to stand as the eighth wonder of the +world. Fabulous stories were told of the beauty and rarity of the +vegetation, and of the value of the jewels which were supposed to decorate +the temple and royal apartments. As there was no opportunity of confirming +or refuting the statements, they were allowed to grow unhindered. + +It was in this small sphere that Nehal Singh spent his childhood, his +youth and early manhood. Of the outer world he had seen nothing, though he +had read much, his education extending over all European history and +penetrating deep into that of his own country. Nevertheless, the picture +his mind had formed had little in common with the reality--it was too +overshadowed by his own character. As a blind man may be able, through +hearsay, to describe his surroundings detail by detail and yet at the +bottom be possessed by an entirely false conception, so Nehal Singh, to +all appearances well instructed, was in reality as ignorant as a child. +The heroes whose figures peopled his imagination were too heroic, the +villains too evil, and both heroes and villains were either physically +beautiful or hideous, according to their characters. + +He had no comrade against whose practical experience he might have rubbed +this distorted picture into a more truthful likeness. His only companions +had been his native instructors and the priests--men separated from him by +a gulf of years and a curious lack of sympathy which he had in vain +striven to overcome. Thus he had been intensely lonely, more lonely than +he knew, though some dawning realization crept over him on this particular +evening as he passed through the temple gates. For a moment he stood with +his hands crossed over his breast, absorbed in prayer to Brahma, the +Creator, in whose presence he was about to stand. In such an hour, amidst +the absolute stillness, under the stupendous shadows of the walls, which +had, unchanging, seen generation after generation of worshipers drift from +their altars into the deeper shades of Patala, the young prince felt the +wings of divine spirits brush close past him, bearing his prayer on unseen +hands to the very ear of the golden-faced Trinity who, from his earliest +years, had seemed to look down upon him with solemn kindness. + +This evening, more perhaps than ever before, every fiber in him vibrated +beneath the touch of the holy charm, and the prayer which passed +soundlessly over his lips came from a soul that worshiped in fiery +earnestness and truth. A minute passed as he stood there, then, removing +his shoes, he stepped over the threshold and walked forward between the +gigantic granite columns which supported what was left of the dome-shaped +roof. There was no altar, no jewel, no figure cut in the hard stone that +was not known to him with all their mysterious significance. Here had been +spent all his leisure hours; here had been dreamed his wildest dreams; +beneath this column he had seen as in a vision how Vishnu took nine times +human form and a tenth time came, according to the Holy Writings, with a +winged horse of spotless white, and crowned as conqueror. + +To-day these things pressed down upon him with all the weight of a +tremendous reality. With beating heart he entered at last into the Holy of +Holies and stood before the god's high altar, visible only to those of +purest caste. His head was once more bowed. He did not venture to look up +at the golden figure whose ruby eyes, he knew, stared straight through his +soul into every corner of the world and beyond into Eternity. His belief, +pure, unsoiled from contact with the world, was a power that had gone out +into the darkness and conjured thence the spirits that shrank back from +the cold prayer of the half-believer. They stood before him now--these +wonderful spirits. He believed surely that, should he dare to raise his +eyes, he would see them, definite yet formless, arising glorious out of +the cloud of golden reflection from Brahma's threefold forehead. + +Thus he prayed, not kneeling, since the god cared only for his soul: + +"Oh, Lord Brahma, Creator, hear me! Thou who madest me knowest whither I +came and whither I go; but I, who am as the wind that bloweth as thou +listeth, as a flower that springeth up in the night and unseen fadeth in +the midday heat, I know not thy purpose nor the end for which I am. Lord +Brahma, teach me, for my soul panteth after knowledge. Show me the path +which I must tread, for I am weary with dreams. Teach me to serve my +people--be it hand in hand with the Stranger and his gods, be it alone. +Teach me to act, and that right soon; for my childhood days are spent and +my man's arm heavy with idleness. Send me forth--but not alone--not alone, +Lord Brahma, for I am heart-sick of loneliness. Give me my comrade, my +comrade who shall be more to me than--" + +He stopped and, obeying an impulse stronger than himself, lifted his face +to the idol. It had vanished. In its place stood a woman. + +At another and cooler moment, with a mind filled with other thoughts, with +a heart untroubled by new and all-powerful emotions, he would have known +her, if only from hearsay, for what she was. But with that passionate +prayer upon his lips, she was for him the answer, a divine recognition of +his need and of his lately recognized loneliness. + +Tall, slender, with a pale, transparent complexion, touched like a young +rose with the faintest color, dark, grave eyes and hair that seemed a part +of the obscured god, whose pure lines, though foreign, harmonized in every +detail with the classic beauty of her surroundings, she stood and watched +him, as he watched her, in perfect silence. + +"Lakshmi!" he murmured at last; and, as though the one word had broken a +charm which held them both paralyzed, she smiled, and the smile lit up the +Madonna face and made it as human as it had seemed divine. + +[Illustration: "Lakshmi!" he murmured at last.] + +"Forgive me," she began, speaking in English, "I am afraid I have +disturbed you, but--" She paused, apparently confused by the directness of +his gaze. The faint pink upon her cheek deepened. + +"Who are you?" he demanded in his own tongue. + +Her look of non-comprehension steadied him, at least outwardly, though it +did not check the fierce, painful beating of his pulses. He repeated the +question in pure though hesitating English. + +"I am an Englishwoman," she answered at once, "and have lost my way. For +hours--it seems hours, at any rate--I have been wandering hither and +thither, trying to find my party, with whom I was enjoying an excursion. +By some chance I came across this temple, and hoped to meet some one who +might help me. You see, I am a stranger in this part of the world. I--I +hope I have done no wrong?" + +She looked at him pleadingly, but he ignored her question. It never +occurred to him to doubt her explanation, or wonder at the unlikeliness of +the chance which should have led her through the intricate paths to this +hallowed spot. + +"You are English?" he echoed. The fever in his blood was subsiding, but, +like some great crisis, it was leaving him changed. It had swept him out +of the world of languorous, enchanted dreams into a world of not less +enchanted reality. + +"I fear I am presumptuous," she began again; "but are you not the Rajah? +If so, I am certain you must be very, very angry. For the Rajah--so I have +been told--does not love the English." + +She smiled again, meeting his unwavering gaze with a frank good-humor +which for him was more wonderful even than her beauty. No woman--and for +that matter, no man--had ever dared to look him in the eyes with such a +laughing, fearless challenge. + +"Yes, I am the Rajah," he answered. Then, after a pause, he added with +great simplicity, "You are very beautiful." + +She laughed outright, and the laugh, which rang like the peal of a silver +bell through the vaulted chamber, filled him with a sudden sense of her +danger. She stood with her back turned indifferently on the golden image, +an Unbeliever whose shod feet were defiling the sacred precincts, an +object, then, for hatred and revenge--not for him, truly. In his eyes she +was still an emissary from Brahma, and thus in herself half sacred; but he +knew well enough that such would not be the opinion of the few fierce +priests who worshiped in the temple. + +"You are not safe here," he said, with an energy which was new to him. +"Come!" + +He led her hurriedly out of the sanctuary into the great entrance hall. +There he slackened speed and waited until she reached his side. + +"For a foreigner it is not safe to enter the temple," he explained. "Had +any one but myself found you, I could not answer for the consequences." + +"They would have harmed me?" + +"It is possible." + +"That would have been terrible!" she said, glancing at him with eyes that +expressed rather a daring courage than fear. + +"Most terrible," he assented earnestly. + +"Yet--you also, Your Highness, you have also the same reasons for anger. +My intrusion, innocent though it was, must have been equally offensive to +you." + +"No," he said. "That is quite different." + +He offered no further explanation, and together they passed out of the two +immense gopuras into the evening sunshine. + +"I will bring you to the gates which lead on to the highroad," he went on. +"Thence one of my servants will conduct you back to the town, where I +trust you will find your friends." + +"You are most good," she answered gratefully. + +They walked side by side between the high walls of cypress and palm. The +path was a narrow one, and once his hand brushed lightly against hers. The +touch sent a flood of fire through his young veins. He drew back with a +courtesy which surprised himself. He had never been taught that courtesy +toward a woman could ever be required of him. Of women he had heard little +save that they were inferior, in intellect and judgment no more than +slaves, and his curiosity had at once been satiated. He sought things +above him--those beneath him excited no more than indifference. But this +woman was neither an inferior nor a slave. Her free, erect carriage, +steadfast, fearless eyes proclaimed the equal. So much his instinct taught +him in those brief moments, and his eager curiosity concerning her grew +and deepened. Every now and again his gaze sought her face, drinking in +with an almost passionate thirst the fine detail of her profile, compared +to which his dreams were poor and lifeless. Once it chanced that she also +glanced at him, and that they looked at each other for less than a +breathing space full in the eyes. + +"I fear you are angry, Your Highness," she said earnestly. "I must have +offended against your laws even more than I know." + +"Why do you think I am angry?" he asked. + +"You have scarcely spoken." + +"Forgive me! That is no sign of anger. I am still overcome with the +strangeness of it all. You are the first English person I have ever met." + +She stood still, with an exclamation of surprise. + +"Is that possible? I thought all Indian princes mixed with English people. +Many, indeed, go to England to be educated--" + +"So I have heard," he broke in, with a faint haughtiness. "I am not one of +them." + +"Yet you speak the language so perfectly!" she said. + +A gleam of naive pleasure shone out of his dark eyes. + +"I am glad you think so. My--one of my ministers taught me." + +They walked on again. Here and there she stopped to look at some curious +plant--always a little in advance of him--so that he had opportunity to +study the hundred things about her which confirmed his wondering, +increasing admiration. Slight as she was, there was yet a gracefully +controlled strength in every movement. In his own mind, poor as it +necessarily was in comparisons, he compared her to a young doe he had once +startled from its resting-place. There was the same fragile beauty, the +same grace, the same high-strung energy. In nothing was she like the women +painted for him by his father's hand--things for idle, sensuous pleasure, +never for serious action. + +Plunged in a happy confusion of thought, he had once more relapsed into +silence, from which she startled him with a question evidently connected +with their previous conversation. + +"And so you have lived all your life in this lovely garden?" she said, +looking up at him with a grave wonder in her eyes. + +"All my life," he answered. + +"You have never seen anything of the world?" + +"Never." He felt the pity in her tone, and added, with a shamefacedness +curiously in contrast with his former hauteur: "But I have read much." + +"That is not the same thing," she returned. "No book could make you +understand how wonderful and beautiful things are." + +He looked at her, and for a second time their eyes met. + +"You are right," he said. "Hitherto I have thought myself all-wise. I have +studied hard, and I believed there was nothing I did not know. Now I see +that there are wonders in the world of which I have never even dreamed." + +Her glance wavered beneath the undisguised admiration in his eyes and +voice. Then she asked gently: + +"Now that you have seen, will you not leave your hermitage? Surely it is +wrong to shut one's heart against the world in which one lives. There is +so much work to be done, so much to learn, and you have been granted power +and wealth, Your Highness. The call upon your help is greater than upon +others." + +His brows knitted. + +"Do you hate us so?" she asked. + +"Hate you?" he repeated wonderingly. "Why should I hate you?" + +"Yet, from your tone, I judged that you had kept seclusion because +intercourse with my country-people meant defilement," she said boldly. + +A flush crept up under his dark skin. + +"Those are things I can not explain," he said; "but they have nothing to +do with hatred. I have heard much of the English heroes. Their deeds of +daring and self-sacrifice have filled my heart with love and veneration. I +know that they are the greatest and noblest people of the earth. I love +great and noble people. I do not hate them." + +"I am glad," she said. + +They had reached the gates which opened out on to the highroad, and as +though by mutual consent both came to a standstill. + +"Your Highness has been most good to me," she went on. "I can find my way +perfectly now. I am only puzzled to know how I should ever have lost it so +much as to have wandered into your garden." + +"Some sentry must have slept," he remarked grimly. + +"But you will not punish any one?" + +"Whoever it was, he was only the servant of destiny, like us all," he +said. "No harm shall come to him." He paused, and then added with a slight +effort: "One of the sentries shall accompany you." + +"No, no," she answered energetically. "That is not necessary. I would +rather go alone." + +He pointed upward to the sky, whose blue was deepening into the violet +shades of night. + +"It will be dark before you reach your destination," he said. "Are you not +afraid?" + +She laughed merrily. + +"Of what should I be afraid? There are no maneaters about here, as I +understand. As for men, I am prepared to encounter at least six of them. +Look!" She drew from the bosom of her dress a small revolver of exquisite +workmanship, and held it out to him. "It has all six chambers loaded," she +added. + +He took the weapon, pretending to examine it; but his pulses had +recommenced their painful beating, and he saw nothing but her face. + +"Are all Englishwomen so brave and beautiful?" + +This time she did not laugh at the simplicity of the question. + +"Come and see," she answered boldly. He said nothing, and she went on: "At +any rate, I must go now. My people will be very anxious, and I have so +much to tell them. They will envy me the privilege I have enjoyed of +seeing your wonderful gardens. I shall tell them how kind you have been to +a foolish wanderer." + +"If the gardens please you, they are always open to you," he said. + +She shook her head sadly. + +"I am afraid it is not possible. You see, I could not come alone. +Propriety will forgive me this once, because it was an accident--a second +time, and my reputation would be gone for ever." She held out her hand +frankly. "So it must be good-by for ever!" + +An instant he hesitated, torn between a deep ingrained principle and +desire. Then he took the small hand in his own. + +"It will not be good-by for ever," he said. "We shall meet again." + +"I should be glad. We have been quite good friends, haven't we? But you +see, you will be in a garden into which I may not enter, and I in a world +which for you is forbidden ground. I am afraid there is no hope." + +"Nevertheless, we shall meet again," he repeated. + +"Why are you so certain?" + +He smiled dreamily. + +"Nothing in this world happens without purpose," he answered. "So much my +books and eyes have taught me. We do not drift aimlessly into each other's +lives. We are borne on the breast of a strong current which flows out of +the river of Fate, and whether we meet for good or evil is according to +the will of God. But of one thing I am sure: it must be for good or evil." + +For a moment she said nothing. Her face was turned away from him, and when +at last she spoke, her voice had lost something of its daring certainty. + +"I hope, then, our meeting is for our good," she said. + +"I feel that it is," he answered. + +He led her past the bewildered, terrified sentry on to the grey, dusty +highroad. It was the first time that his feet had crossed the threshold. + +"I shall watch you till you are out of sight," he said. "Good-by." + +"Good-by--and thank you!" + +According to his word, he stood where she had left him, his eyes fixed +immovably, like those of a bronze statue, on the slight, elastic figure, +as it hurried toward the lights of the distant Station. When at last the +purple mist had swallowed her from his sight, he looked up toward the +heavens. + +Just where the mist ended and the clear sky began, the evening star rose +in its first splendor and shone through the dry atmosphere, signaling to +its fellows that night was come. One by one others followed. As time +passed, the moon in a cloud of silver lifted herself in stately progress +above the black outline of the jungle and touched with her first beams the +filigree minarets of the temple. + +Nehal Singh bowed his head in prayer. + +"Oh, Lord Brahma, I thank thee!" + +A short-lived breath of evening air caught up the passionate murmur of his +voice and mingled it with the rustling of the Sacred Tree whose restless, +shimmering, silver leaves hung above his head. He understood their whisper +as he listened. It was the accents of the god to whom he prayed, and all +the poetic mysticism of his nature responded to the call. + +"Oh, Lord Brahma, Creator, I thank thee!" he repeated; then turned, and +with head still bowed, passed back through the high marble gates. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ARCHIBALD TRAVERS PLAYS BRIDGE + + +The ayah put the last touches to Beatrice Cary's golden hair, drew back a +little to judge the general effect, and then handed her mistress the +handglass. + +"Is that well so, missy?" she asked. "Missy look wonderful +to-night--wonderful!" + +Beatrice examined herself carefully and critically, without any show of +impatience. Only a close observer would have noticed that her eyes had the +strained, concentrated look of a person whose thoughts are centered +elsewhere than on the immediate subject. + +"Yes, that will do," she assented, after a moment. "You have done extra +well to-night. You can go." + +"Not help missy with dress?" + +"No, you can go. I shall only want you again when I come back." + +The ayah fidgeted with the garments that lay scattered about the room, but +an imperative gesture hastened her exit, and she slipped silently from the +room, drawing the curtains after her. + +Beatrice watched her departure in the glass, and then, turning in her +chair, looked at the languid, exhausted figure upon the couch. + +"Now, if you have anything to say, mother, say it," she said. "We are +quite alone." + +"I have a great deal to say," Mrs. Cary began, in a tone of extreme +injury, "and first of all, I must ask you not to interrupt me in the way +you did just now before the--the what-do-you-call-it?--the ayah. I can not +and will not stand being corrected before my own servants." + +"I did not correct you," Beatrice returned coldly. "I stopped you from +making disclosures to ears which know enough English to understand more +than is good for either of us, and whose discretion is on a par with that +of our late friend, Mary Jane. It seems impossible to make you realize +that English is not a dead language." + +"You are very rude to me!" Mrs. Cary protested, in high, quavering tones +that threatened tears. "Very rude! Beatrice, you ought to be ashamed--" + +"I am not rude. I am only telling you the simple truth." + +"Well, then, you are not respectful." + +"Respectful!" The reiteration was accompanied with a laugh which +brought into use all the harsh, unpleasing notes in the girl's voice. +She turned away from her mother, and with one white elbow resting on +the dressing-table, began to play idly with the silver ornaments. "No, +I suppose I am not respectful," she went on calmly. "I think we are too +intimate for that, mother. We know each other too well, and have spoken +about things too plainly. People, I imagine, only retain the respect of +their fellow-creatures so long as they keep themselves and their projects +a haloed mystery. That isn't our case. There are no haloes or mysteries +between us, are there?" + +"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Mrs. Cary declared plaintively. +"There are moments, Beatrice, when I think you talk nonsense." + +"I am sure you do!" An ironical smile played an instant round the small +mouth, then she went on calmly: "Let us put our personal grievances +against each other aside, mother. _Revenons a nos moutons._ You were +saying, when I interrupted you, that you were afraid of Mr. Travers. Why?" + +"Why! You know as well as I do. I recognized him at once, and the sight of +his face nearly gave me a heart stroke. Of course you remember him. He +gave evidence against your poor, dear father when--" + +Beatrice Cary held up her hand. + +"That is one of the advantages of having discarded the mystery and halo," +she said. "We do not need to go into any details concerning ourselves or +the past. I know quite well to what you refer. To be quite honest, I _did_ +recognize him, only I did not let him see that I did." + +"And then you ask why I am afraid!" + +"I fail to see what harm he can do us." + +"He can tell the truth." + +Beatrice Cary rose and began to slip into the white silk dress which hung +across the back of her chair. + +"The truth!" she said meditatively. "That is something, mother, of which, +I fear, you and I will never rid ourselves. It has chased us out of +England and out of all possible parts of Europe; and, large though India +is, it seems already to have tracked us down. It has a good nose for +fugitives, apparently." + +Mrs. Cary sat up, mopping her florid face free from tears of irritability. + +"You will drive me mad one of these days!" she cried. "You laugh at +everything. You laugh even at this, though it concerns our whole future +here--" + +"Excuse me for interrupting you again. I take the matter very much to +heart--so much so that there are moments when I am thoroughly weary of it, +and feel inclined to write on a large placard: 'Here standeth Beatrice +McConnel, alias Cary, daughter of the--'" + +"Be silent!" broke in the elder woman furiously. "Do you really want the +whole Station to be taken into our confidence?" + +"I am sorry!" with half-sincere, half-mocking contrition. "I am as bad as +you are. But, as I say, there are times when I should like to shriek the +truth in the world's face, and see what it would do. I don't think +anything could be worse than our present life." + +"If you did anything of the sort, I should take poison," Mrs. Cary +declared. + +"No, you wouldn't. We should move on to another continent, and try our +luck there, that's all. It's the very futility of truth-telling which +prevents me from experimenting in that direction. Perhaps, as you suggest, +Mr. Travers will take the task from my shoulders." + +Mrs. Cary rose to her feet and came ponderously over to her daughter's +side. Her voice, when she spoke, was troubled with genuine emotion. + +"Beatrice," she said, "I don't ask respect of you--I don't suppose it +would be any sort of good if I did. You haven't any respect in you. But at +any rate have some consideration for me. You needn't make my life worse +than it is. It's no use your saying to me, 'Give up the money, and hide +your head.' I can't. I never could hide my head, and at the bottom _I_ +don't believe you could either. It's the way we are made. Ever since I was +a little child, and played about in my father's shop, I wanted people to +bow down to me and respect me. I meant that one day they should. When I +married they did--for a time at least. When the crash came, and--and all +the shame, I just ran away from it. I couldn't have done anything else. +Ever since then I have been trying to build things up elsewhere, and I had +to have money for it. You can't blame me, Beatrice. You aren't any better. +You always want to be first in your singing and your painting, you always +want the best of what's going. You always want to be admired and +successful in everything you do. You take after me in that." A note of +curious pride crept into her voice. "So it's just like this, Beatrice--I +can't live without position. I may not take poison, but I shall die all +the same if I can't play a part in the world. All I ask is that you help +me all you can. It's not much. I've been a pretty decent mother to you. +You can't say that there was ever a time when I grudged you a pretty frock +or a dance--" She stopped in her long speech, yielding to Beatrice's +irrepressible gesture of impatience. + +"You needn't have gone into so much explanation," the girl said, fastening +a small diamond pendant round her white neck. "I know you and I know +myself. As to my gratitude, I am fully aware of what I owe you, and am +ready to pay. What do you want me to do?" + +"Don't go against me." + +"I haven't done so yet. I don't mean to. As far as I can recollect, I've +pulled us both out of as many scrapes as you have landed us into," +Beatrice replied. + +"I know. That's why I want you to do your best now." + +"To do what?" + +"To keep Marut tolerable for us." + +"I can't prevent Mr. Travers gossiping if he wants to." + +A smile flitted over Mrs. Cary's fat face, robbing it of its good-nature +and leaving it merely vulgarly cunning. + +"You could if you wanted to." + +"How?" + +"Oh, you know! You have a way with men. You could shut his mouth." + +Beatrice laughed outright. + +"There are moments when you betray your origin in the most painful way, +mother," she said cruelly. "A remark like that in Mrs. Carmichael's +hearing, and we should find Marut too hot for us without any assistance +from Mr. Travers." + +"I'm sorry," Mrs. Cary apologized humbly. "It slipped out. What I meant +was, that I am sure you could manage him. And you know you could, +Beatrice." + +Beatrice looked at her reflection in the glass. There was little feminine +vanity in the glance--rather a cool judging and appraising, untempered +with any personal prejudice. + +"I suppose I could," she admitted. + +"Won't you?" + +"Would it make you very happy?" + +"It would be my first moment's real peace since I saw Mr. Travers at the +garden-party." + +"Well, I'll do my best." + +"You promise?" + +"Yes, I'll promise if you want me to." + +Mrs. Cary drew a deep sigh of relief. + +"That's one thing about you, you keep your promises, Beatrice," she said. + +"It is rather curious, under the circumstances, isn't it?" the younger +woman returned, submitting to the mother's grateful embrace with an +indifference which seemed to indicate more than an indifference--rather a +stoic, smothered antipathy. When it was over, and Mrs. Cary had once more +ensconced herself on the lounge, Beatrice shook her shoulders as though +thrusting something intensely disagreeable away from her. + +"In any case, it may be too late," she said, putting the finishing touches +to her toilet. "If Mr. Travers meant to tell, he has probably done so +already. I shall be able to judge by Mrs. Carmichael's hand-shake +to-night." + +"We must hope for the best," returned Mrs. Cary, with pious resignation. + +The two women relapsed into silence. Beatrice hovered lightly about the +room, collecting her fan, handkerchief and gloves, every now and again +casting the same curious, unloving glance at herself in the long mirror. +Presently she went to the window and pulled aside the muslin curtain. + +"Some one is driving up the avenue," she said. "It's a dog-cart. I wonder +who it is." + +"A dog-cart!" Mrs. Cary repeated thoughtfully. "Now, who has a dog-cart in +Marut? Not many people, I fancy." A dull flush mounted her coarse cheeks. +"Why," she exclaimed, "I believe Mr. Travers has!" + +Beatrice dropped the curtain back into its place. + +"That would be a coincidence, wouldn't it?" she remarked, with a faint +irony from which her tone had never been wholly free. + +A minute later the ayah entered the room. + +"Travers Sahib is here," she announced. "He asks if missy drive with him +to the Colonel Sahib in his cart. Travers Sahib waiting." + +Beatrice and her mother exchanged glances. + +"Very well," Beatrice then said quietly. "Tell Travers Sahib I shall be +delighted. Paul need not bring round the carriage." + +The ayah retired, and with an undisturbed calm Beatrice proceeded to slip +into her evening cloak. + +"At any rate, he hasn't spoken yet," she said. "Fate seems to mean well +with you, mother." + +"It all depends on you, Beatrice," the other returned impressively. + +"Do you think so? Well, I have half-an-hour's drive before +me--tete-a-tete. I dare say I shall manage. Good night!" She patted her +mother lightly on the hand as she passed her on the way to the door. + +"Good-by, my dear. Do your best, won't you?" + +"Haven't I been brought up to do my best?" Beatrice answered with a laugh. + +She hurried on to the verandah which faced out on the drive, the ayah +accompanying her with numerous wraps and shawls. Archibald Travers, who +had remained seated, greeted her with a cheerful wave of the whip. + +"Please excuse my getting down, Miss Cary," he said. "My horse is in a +state of mind which does not allow for politeness. Can you trust yourself +to his tender care?" + +"I am not in the least nervous," she answered, scrambling up to his side, +"and a drive through this lovely air is worth a few risks. I was dreading +the half-hour alone in our stuffy brougham." + +"I'm glad I came, then," he said. "I heard that Mrs. Cary was ill and +could not go, but I was not sure whether you would care for it. There, are +you tucked in all right? Can we start?" + +"Yes, by all means." + +He cracked his whip, and immediately the impatient chestnut sprang forward +into the darkness. They swayed dangerously through the compound gates on +to the broad, straight highroad. + +Beatrice laughed with excitement. + +"That was splendid!" she exclaimed, pulling her cloak closer round her. +"How well you drive!" + +"You seem to enjoy danger," he said, with an amused smile. + +"Yes, I enjoy it," she answered, more gravely. "It is the only flavoring +which I have hitherto discovered in life. The rest is rather insipid, +don't you think?" + +"You talk like a man," he said. + +"I have been brought up to be independent and fight for myself," she +returned. "That sort of thing does away with the principal differences +between the sexes." + +As she spoke they dashed suddenly into an avenue of high trees through +whose branches the moonlight played fantastic, uncanny shadows on the +white road. Travers' horse shied violently, and for some minutes his work +was cut out for him in pacifying the excited animal. When they were once +more bowling smoothly over the open plain, he glanced down at the girl +beside him. + +She was smiling to herself. + +"You have nerve!" he remarked admiringly. + +"I have lots more when it is wanted," she answered, looking up at him. The +light struck full on their faces, and they could read each other's +expressions as clearly as if it had been midday. + +"How much farther is it at the rate we are going?" she asked. + +"Another twenty minutes." + +"Another twenty minutes!" she repeated thoughtfully. "That is quite a long +time, isn't it?" + +He flicked his whip across the horse's ears. + +"Yes, and I'm glad," he said. "Otherwise, I shouldn't have seen much of +you. I happen to know that I am taking in Miss Caruthers to dinner, and +dinner takes up most of the evening at these functions." + +"You are taking in Lois Caruthers!" she said, laughing. "I know of some +one who will be annoyed." + +"Stafford, you mean?" + +"And Lois herself." + +He joined in her amusement. + +"Yes, I suppose so." + +"You have a good-natured hostess. I dare say the arrangement could be +altered if you wished it." + +"But I don't. They happen to be _my_ arrangements, you see." + +"Oh!" she ejaculated, somewhat taken back. + +"On my left there will be Mrs. James, who, as you perhaps know, is stone +deaf," he went on calmly. "On Miss Caruthers' right will be Mr. James, who +from long custom never opens his mouth except to put something into it. +Stafford will be right at the other end of the table." + +"You are malicious," she said. + +"Not a bit. I only go hard for what I want, that's all." He chuckled to +himself and then went on: "I've confided to you my subtle underground +plans--why, goodness knows. I'm not usually of a confiding nature. But +really, Miss Cary, I feel as though I had known you all my life." + +"We have already plotted together," she said. "Possibly that forms some +sort of link between us." + +He glanced down at her, and this time, as she did not return his gaze, he +was free to study her calm, undisturbed profile. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed, half under his breath, "I don't blame the young +fool for being taken in." + +Her brows contracted sharply. + +"Thank you. I suppose that is a compliment." + +"It is meant for one. By the way, are you really sure of your success?" + +"Perfectly sure." + +"That's a good thing. We shall have the laugh over old Stafford and his +grandmother's ideas if it comes off. All I fear is that the youth's +impressionable mind may lose its impressions as quickly as it receives +them." + +"I don't think so. He did not seem that sort." + +"Besides," added Travers, with a sudden drawl, "your face is not one that +a man forgets easily, Miss Cary." + +She stirred very slightly in her seat. It was the instinctive movement of +a woman bracing herself secretly for a coming shock. + +"Really?" + +"Yes, really. That was what I meant to tell you the other day, but there +was no fitting opportunity. I recognized you at once." + +"And I you," she returned. + +He whistled. + +"So we recognized each other and didn't recognize each other. Rather a +queer thing, eh?" + +Again there was that scarcely noticeable stiffening of her whole body. + +"I see nothing queer about it. We were both taken aback, and after the +first shock we realized that to acknowledge a previous meeting was not to +either of our advantages. You were ashamed; and I--well, you can guess my +reasons." + +"By Jove! You know, you really are plucky!" he burst out, with genuine +admiration. + +"Thank you. You have intimated that to me already, and, as a matter of +fact, there is no question of pluck. I'm taking the bull by the horns +because I must. Mr. Travers, I can't live in the same place with you and +not know if you are going to explode the mine under our feet or not. I may +have nerve, but I haven't got nerve enough for that." + +"I see. You want to know whether I am going to gossip or hold my tongue. +Is that it?" + +"Yes, that's it." + +"Suppose I gossip?" + +"I see no reason why you should be our enemy, so I don't mind admitting to +you that it would spoil our plans." + +"What may they be?" + +"Firstly, to get clear of everything that has happened. We've tried to do +that in different places all over Europe, without success. Something or +somebody has always cropped up and driven us away. It was just as though +every one least concerned in the matter had made up their minds to track +us down. At last mother thought of India, and of Marut in particular. My +father held a small post somewhere about here before we left for England, +and we make out that it is tender associations and all that sort of thing. +Of course, we might be found out any day, but perhaps people are not so +curious out here, and it gives us a rest." + +"Might I ask why you take all this trouble?" + +"I was going to tell you. Because my mother wants what she calls +position--she wants to mix with the best. We couldn't do that in England, +for the reasons I have given you. As for me--I fulfil my destiny. I am +seeking a suitable husband." + +He drew in his breath in something that was not unlike a gasp. + +"My dear Miss Cary, do you know what the world--particularly the woman +world--would call you?" + +"_Does_ call me, you mean? Of course. An adventuress." + +"To be quite frank, you've hit it. But I don't. I call you a jolly +extraordinary and clever woman." + +"Please don't pay me compliments," she said coldly. "My cleverness--if I +have any--is not more than that of any hunted animal who seeks cover where +best he can. As to my being extraordinary, I do not see that you have any +reason to call me so. You might as well say that it is extraordinary when +a weed springs up where a weed has been sown--" + +"Or a flower," he interposed suavely. + +She sank back in her seat, saying nothing. Her silence was a weary sort of +protest. + +Travers pulled out his watch with his free hand. + +"We have only five minutes more," he said. "We are splendidly up to time. +I tell you what, Miss Cary--you can eat Colonel Carmichael's dinner in +peace." She looked quickly at him. "I mean that I shall hold my tongue. I +don't know that I ever intended doing anything else. I am not responsible +to society, and in any case, no direct blame for the past can attach +itself to you. As it is, after your confidence, I give you my word that +I'll do my best to see you through here. You deserve it, and I have always +had a sneaking sympathy for the hunted fox and the much-abused weed. You +can be quite easy in your mind." + +"Thank you," she said without much warmth. + +"I have only one condition--" he went on, and then hesitated. + +"I was waiting for that," she said. + +He laughed good-naturedly. + +"You know me very well already." + +"I know men," she retorted. + +"Well, then, I have a condition. Please don't look upon me as a sort of +blackmailer. If you don't choose to agree to the condition, you needn't. I +shan't on that account go round gossiping about your affairs. At the same +time, I expect you would rather drive a fair and square bargain with me +than be in any way in my debt." + +"You are quite right," she said quickly. + +"My condition is merely this: I want you, if the time and opportunity ever +present themselves, to lend me a hand with my plans. I confess privately +to you I have one or two irons in the fire up at Marut, and that it is +pretty hard work single-handed. You are a clever woman, say what you like, +and your help would be invaluable." + +"In what way?" + +"I will put it as short as possible. You know, Miss Cary, I am not a rich +man, but I have got some big ideas and one at least of them requires +wealth to be carried out. I have every reason to believe that considerable +mineral treasure lies buried under the native Bazaar in Marut, but I can +do nothing unless some one comes to my assistance both with authority and +money. The Rajah is the very man, if only I can get him interested in my +project. Will you help me?" + +"As I have gone so far I might as well go on," she assented indifferently. + +"Thanks. Then there is something else--I want to marry Lois Caruthers." + +Beatrice started and looked up at him as though she thought he might be +joking. His face had indeed undergone a change, but there was something +stern, resolute, almost brutal in the hard-set profile. + +"Indeed? Will that not be more difficult? There is Stafford in the way, +and Stafford--" + +"Stafford must be cleared out of the way," he interrupted, with a cool +decision which his expression partly belied. "I believe she is fond of him +and he of her in a Platonic sort of fashion which might lead to marriage +and might not. He is not the danger. There is a fellow, Nicholson, +though--" + +He stopped short and seemed for an instant to be plunged in his own +thoughts. + +"Who is this Nicholson?" she asked curiously. "I have heard his name +constantly since I have been here. People talk of him as though he were a +demigod. Why are you afraid of him?" + +"Just because of his godlike qualities," Travers explained, with a laugh. +"In earlier ages, no doubt, he would have been a god and among the natives +he is one. In reality, he is an ordinary mortal blessed with an +extraordinary influence. I believe he is a captain in some native regiment +on the frontiers and has done grand work there. I heard today that he is +coming down to Marut on leave." + +"Oh--?" + +"He was Lois' old playfellow," Travers added pointedly. + +"And so you are afraid of him?" + +"All women adore heroes of that type," he remarked without mockery or +bitterness, "and when Nicholson appears I have a fair idea that Stafford +and I will have to be content with the back seats in Lois' affections. You +see, they were great friends, and moreover the Carmichaels have their +matrimonial eye on him. So it's now or never as far as I am concerned." + +"And Stafford--?" + +He looked down at her with a jolly laugh. + +"He must find consolation elsewhere. I thought he would do for you, Miss +Cary." + +"Thanks!" + +"Don't be ungrateful. Rich, good position, good family, worthy character, +a trifle slow, not to say stupid--what more do you want?" + +"You talk as though--" + +"--As though he were being given away with a pound of tea? Well, so he is +to all intents and purposes. One can do anything with an honest, +pig-headed man like that if only one takes him the right way. He would +suit you clear down to the ground, and if you will help me I will help +you. Is that a bargain?" + +They were now in sight of their destination, and he pulled his horse into +a walk. + +"Well, what do you say, Miss Cary?" + +He tried to look into her face, but it was turned resolutely away, and all +he could see was a grave profile which might have belonged to a much older +woman. + +"Well?" he repeated. + +They were entering the drive which led up to the brightly lighted bungalow +before she answered. + +"It's a bargain then," she said. "I promise." + +He pressed her hand with his left. + +"That's all right," he said cheerily. "You won't find yourself +overburdened. The case is just this: we're partners, you and I, with some +good cards between us. Just at present it's my call, and your hand goes +down. Do you understand?" + +"Pretty well," she answered. + +They pulled up at the open doorway, and flinging the reins to the waiting +syce, Travers sprang to the ground. + +"By the way, I believe you go in to dinner with Stafford," he remarked +casually as he helped her to alight. "I hope you will get on well +together." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BREAKING THE BARRIER + + +The Colonel's dinner-party was Beatrice's first great triumph in the face +of her enemies. They were all there and all armed to the teeth with spite +and envy. There was, for instance, Mrs. Berry with her marriageable if +somewhat plain daughter, and many more women besides to whom the beautiful +girl was of necessity an unforgivable opponent. The more the men laughed +at her quick and occasionally rather pointed observations, the more an +obvious admiration shone out of their criticisms, the more determined the +hatred became. Among themselves they had already fulfilled Travers' +prophecy and had christened her "the Adventuress" for no other reason than +that she was a woman with the same ambitions as themselves, but better +accoutred for success. Truly, she had made no bid for their favor, +choosing to stand alone and without their support; but even had she done +so it would have been useless. She wore an enemy's color in her face, and +keen, pitiless eyes had already probed into the innermost depths of her +plans and found them dangerous. + +In the middle of the dinner the Colonel broke the news that the whole of +the English community had been invited by the Rajah to a reception in the +palace grounds. He made the announcement with evident reluctance, and +Beatrice was conscious that Stafford, who sat beside her, stiffened and +frowned. The sense of opposition and disapproval on the part of the man +whom she had set out to conquer put her on her metal, and with the verve +and _sang-froid_ of a woman too sure of her own power to know fear, she +related her adventure in the temple. Her hearers listened, according to +their sex, with amusement, curiosity and pious horror. Some were +unreservedly delighted, others--such as the Colonel and +Stafford--struggled between a certain admiration for her and a decided +disapproval of her action and its results. Yet Stafford at least was a +soldier before he was a conventionalist, and her bold, well-played comedy +in the temple of Vishnu, told simply, but with fire and energy, could not +fail to stir to flame the embers of his own daring. From that time he +ceased to rivet his attention to the other end of the table, where Lois +was sitting, and Beatrice was conscious that she had won the first move in +the great game which she had set herself to play. The next day the whole +Station was made aware of the startling change in the Rajah's attitude and +the means by which it had been brought about, but no one, not even those +who were disposed to judge the matter in its most serious light, guessed +what passed within the palace previous to the sending out of the now +famous invitation. For the greater part of the English community the whole +thing was rather a bad joke, with the Rajah for its victim. That a pretty +woman should have unbarred the gates which no other force, diplomacy or +cunning had been able to stir was a matter for light, somewhat +contemptuous laughter. Rajah Nehal Singh was nicknamed the Impressionable +Swain. He and Beatrice Cary were linked together either in good-natured +chaff or malicious earnest, and curiosity, thanks to the dullness of the +season, strained itself in expectation. + +Thus, beyond the marble gates the world laughed, and inside Life and Death +had faced each other and for a moment hung in the balance. + +It was toward the cool of the evening. Behar Asor and the prince paced +slowly backward and forward in the chief entrance hall of the palace, +plunged in a conversation which was to mark a final stage in their +relationship toward each other. Both knew it, and on both faces was +written the same determination--a determination curiously tempered and +moulded by the character of the man himself. On Behar Asor's furrowed, +withered face it was resolve, armed with treachery and all the hundred and +one weapons of oriental cunning. Nehal Singh's head was lifted in calm, +unshakable confidence. He had no need of weapons. He had seen his destiny, +and the obstacle which would be thrown in his path would, with equal +certainty, be thrown out of it. He felt himself extraordinarily strong. + +His very surroundings seemed to fortify him with their splendor. Other +parts of the palace bore the grievous traces of a past devastating +race-hatred; crumbling pillars, images whose jeweled eyes had been made +dark and lifeless by robber hands; broken pavements, defaced carvings--all +these pointed to a period in human life which was gone for ever, a period +of mad fanaticism and passionate clinging to the Old in defiance of the +New. Here the New was triumphant. Hands still living had raised the mighty +golden dome; the fountain whose waters bubbled up from the Sacred Tank +within the temple was his own creation. The whole place became a sort of +outward and visible sign of the New Life, New Era, which was opening out +before him, and the old man at his side was nothing more than a relic, a +piece of clinging wreckage. Yesterday he had been a wise man whose +judgment and guidance was a thing to be considered. + +But between Yesterday and Today there is occasionally a long night in +which much may happen. A life may go out, a life may come in; a devil may +become a saint, or a saint a devil; a man may swing from one pole of +opinion to another, and this last is perhaps the easiest of all. For it +does not require much to change a man's standpoint. A very little thing +will make him turn on his heel and look at a piece of the landscape which +he has hitherto chosen to ignore or despise, and probably acknowledge that +it is finer than his hitherto obstinately retained outlook. A very little +thing--like Columbus' egg--if one only knew just what it was! The little +thing in Nehal Singh's life had been a woman's face. It shone between him +and his old gods; it smiled at him from amidst the shadows of his +imagination, beckoning him unceasingly to follow. And he was +following--with the reckless speed of a man who had been kept inactive too +long at the starting point of life. + +"I am weary of all that has hitherto been," he told Behar Asor. "My palace +has become a prison from which I must free myself. The very air I breathe +is heavy with sleep and dreams. It suffocates me. I must have life--here +and without." + +"I understand thee too well," came the answer from compressed lips. "The +curse is on thee. Thou wilt go among my enemies, and it is I, with my +mistaken wisdom, who have opened thy path to them. It was I who taught +thee their tongue, their knowledge, their law, that when the time came +thou shouldst stand before them more than their equal. This is my +punishment." + +"It is no punishment. It is the will of God." + +"The will of God!" The old man threw up his hands with a wild laugh that +echoed among the pillars. "It is the will of the devil, who has been my +curse and shall be thine! Ay, ay, look not at me! It is true. Thinkest +thou that I have brought thee up in solitude without cause? Thinkest thou +that I have hidden thee like a miser his treasure, in the dark, unseen +places, for a whim? Son, I have suffered as I pray thou mayst not have to +suffer, and I have within my heart a serpent of hatred whose sting I would +thou couldst feel." He paused, biting his lip as though the pain he +described was actual and physical. "Go not among the Unbelievers!" he +continued vigorously. "Let not their shadow defile thee! For their breath +is poison, and in their eyes is a deadly flame--or if thou goest, let it +be with steeled breast and in thy right hand a sword of vengeance!" + +"I can not," Nehal Singh answered impatiently. "Nor do I believe what thou +sayest. This people is surely brave and good. I know, for I have read--" + +"Read!" the old man interrupted, with another burst of stormy laughter. +"What is it to read? To see with the eyes and feel with the body--that +alone can bring true wisdom. And I have seen and felt! Callest thou a +people 'good' who drink our hospitality and spit upon us--who hail us +with their unclean right hand and steal our honor with their left?" + +Nehal Singh stopped short. + +"What meanest thou?" he demanded. + +"I have a meaning!" was the stern answer. "I will tell thee now what I +have never told thee before--I will tell thee of a young man who, like +thyself, was fearless, impetuous, a lover of the new and strange, who went +out into the world, and welcomed the White People as a deliverer and +friend. I will tell thee how he flung down caste and prejudice to welcome +them, drank in their Thought and Culture, trembled on the brink of their +Religion. Already the path had been broken for him. His mother's sister +had married out of her race--an Englishman--I know not how it came +about--and their child followed in her steps. I will tell thee how the +young man came to know this cousin and her husband, also an Unbeliever. +How often these two became his guests I will not tell thee. He took +pleasure in their presence, partly for his mother's sake, partly because +the white race had become dear to him. They brought others with them, and +among them an English officer. Hear now further. + +"This young man had one wife, following the English custom--one wife more +beautiful than her sisters, whom he loved as a man loves but once in life. +In his madness, in spite of warnings of his priests, he gave her the +freedom almost of an English-woman. Wheresoever he went she followed him; +with her at his right hand he received his English guests; it was she who +sang to them--" He ground his teeth in a sudden outburst of rage. "Mad, +mad was I! Mad to trust a woman, and to trust the stranger! Son, the night +came when my wife sang no more to me, and the stranger's shadow ceased to +darken my threshold. Three years I sought them--three years; then one +night she came back to me. He had cast her from him. She lay dead at my +feet." His voice shook. "In vain I sought justice. There is no justice for +such things among the White People--not for themselves and not for us. I +drew my sword and in hatred and scorn as deep as my love and reverence had +been high, I slew my way to the false devil who had betrayed me. Him I +slew--and his pale wife I--" + +"Who was this man?" Nehal Singh asked heavily. + +"I know not. His name has passed from me. But the hate remains. For with +that act of treachery he drew back the veil from my blind eyes, and I saw +that they were all as he--bad, cruel, hypocrites--" + +"Not all--not all!" Nehal Singh interrupted. He stopped by the splashing +fountain and gazed dreamily into the clear waters. His own face he saw +there--and another which was neither bad, cruel, nor hypocritical, but +wholly beautiful. "Not all," he repeated. "You judge by one man. There +are others, and it is those I will see and know, and--" + +"I would rather see thee dead at my feet!" + +"My father, I will judge them as I find them," + +Nehal Singh went on imperturbably. "If they be good and noble, I will +serve and love them. If they be bad, as thou sayest--then thou shalt live +to see me do thy will." + +He heard a shrill cry, and his eyes, still fixed on the water, saw a hand +that swept upward, the flash of steel falling swiftly through the +sunshine. He swung round and tore the dagger from the nerveless hand. + +"Thou dost wrong, my father," he said, with unshaken calm. "To learn +treachery from treachery is a poor lesson. And thou canst not stay me. +What I will do I will do. Do not cross me again." + +The old man, who had shrunk back, gasping and staring, against the marble +basin, pulled himself painfully upright. + +"Ay, I did wrong," he said. "With my old hands I tried to forestall the +sword of Fate. For, mark me, the hour will come when thou wilt curse +thyself that thou didst stay my knife!" + +He tottered slowly away, vanishing like a curious twisted shadow amidst +the deeper shadows of the columns. + +Nehal Singh watched him till he was out of sight, and then, snapping the +dagger across his knee, flung the pieces into the water. They lay there, +at the bottom of the marble basin, sparkling and twinkling in the +sunshine. When he looked in, trying to conjure up once more the beautiful +face, it was always the dagger he saw. It was always the dagger he saw +when the memory of that short, violent scene came back to him--and it +came back often, springing up out of his subconscious self like an evil, +slinking shade that could never be wholly brought to rest. Yet he went on +resolutely. One barrier had given way--one more remained, and he flung +himself against it with a reckless determination which would have overcome +any resistance. But there was none. The old priest who had been his guide +and teacher welcomed him as he had always done, seated cross-legged at the +edge of the Sacred Tank, motionless, rigid, like some handsome bronze +statue of Buddha, whose eyes alone spoke of a fierce flowing life within. +He bowed his head once in return to Nehal's greeting, but as he began to +speak he interrupted him, and in a low, chanting voice uttered the last +words he was ever heard to address to any living creature: + +"Speak not to me, Son of the Night and Day, for the Spirit of the Holy Yog +is on me, and his tongue speaketh through my lips. Behold, mine eyes see +with his into the wells of the future--my heart stands still for fear of +the things that are to be. I see a Holy Temple and hear the ring of +Accursed Footsteps. I see a young man at daybreak, beautiful, strong and +upright, and I see him stand beneath the high sun like a blade of withered +grass. I see him go forth in the morning with laughter on his lips, and at +nightfall his eyes run blood. A voice calleth him from the thicket, and +wheresoever the voice calleth him he goeth. He standeth on the banks of +Holy Ganges, and behold! the waters burst from their course and pour +westward to the ocean. Behold, then shall he draw his sword against his +people, and from that hour he shall serve them and become theirs. Then +shall the doors of the temple be closed for ever, and the lips of Vishnu +silent. Go forth, son of the Evening and Morning Star! That which is to be +shall be till the stream of the Future ceaseth to flow from the mouth of +Heaven!" + +Nehal Singh listened to this strange, disjointed prophecy in perfect +silence, his eyes following the fierce stare of the old Brahman into the +oily waters of the Sacred Pool. Amidst the hundred reflections from the +temple he seemed to see each separate picture as the monotonous voice +called it up before his mind, and always it was his own face which +shimmered among the shadowy minarets, and always it was a familiar voice +calling him through the ages which whispered to him from the trembling +leaves of the Bo-Tree as it hung its branches down to the water's edge. + +"Tell me more, for thy words have drawn the veil closer about the future!" + +His pleading received no response. The priest remained motionless, +passive, indifferent, seemingly plunged in an ecstatic contemplation; and +from that moment his lips were closed, and he passed his once loved pupil +with eyes that seemed fixed far ahead on a world visible only to himself. +Neither in his words or manner had there been any anger or reproach, but a +perfect resignation which walled him off from every human emotion, and +Nehal Singh went his way, conscious that the world lay before him and that +he was free. The great dividing wall had turned to air, and he had passed +through, satisfied but not a little troubled, as a man is who finds that +he has struck at shadows. + +Afterward he told himself that the walls had always been shadows, the +links that bound him always mere ghostly hindrances, part of the vague +dreams that had filled his life and bound his horizon. Now that was all +over. The more perfect reality lay before him and was his. The dim figures +of his childhood's imagination gave place to definite forms. And each bore +the same face, each face the same grave goodness--that of the woman +destined for him by Heaven. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SECOND GENERATION + + +Thus it came to pass that after more than a quarter of a century the gates +of the palace were thrown open, and strange feet crossed the threshold in +apparent peace and friendship. + +A crowd of memories flooded Colonel Carmichael's mind as he followed the +guide along the narrow paths. There was a difference between his last +entry and this--a difference and an analogy whose bizarre completeness +came home to him more vividly with every moment. Then, too, he had been +led, but by a dark figure whose flaming torch had sprung through the +darkness like an unearthly spirit of destruction. Then, too, he had +followed--not, as now, old and saddened--but impetuously, and behind him +had raced no crowd of laughing pleasure-seekers, but men whose bloody +swords were clasped in hands greedy for the long-deferred vengeance. He +remembered clearly what they had felt. For a year they had been held at +bay by a skill and cunning which outmatched their most heroic efforts, and +now, at last, the hour of victory was theirs. He remembered how the thirst +for revenge had died down as they stormed the marble steps. No living +being barred their course. Stillness greeted them as they poured into the +mighty hall, and a chilly awe sank down upon their red-hot rage as they +searched an emptiness which seemed to defy them. It was the Colonel +himself, then only a young captain, who had heard the piteous wailing cry +issuing from a side apartment. He had rushed in, and there a sight greeted +him which engraved itself on his memory for ever. The place was almost in +darkness, save that at the far end two torches had been lit on either side +of what seemed to be a throne--a beautiful golden chair raised from the +floor by ivory steps. Here, too, at first all had seemed death and +silence; then the cry had been repeated, and they saw that a tiny child +lay between the high carved arms and was watching them with great, +beautiful eyes. Around his neck had hung a hastily-written message: + +"This is my son, Nehal Singh, whose life and heritage I intrust to my +conquerors in the name of justice and mercy." + +And he had taken the boy in his arms and borne him thence as tenderly as +if he had been his own. + +Since then twenty-five years had passed. The throne had been given to the +tiny heir under the tutelage of a neighboring prince, and the spirit of +forgotten things brooded over the wreck of the tempest that for over a +year had raged about Marut. But the Colonel remembered as if it had been +but yesterday. Others had forgotten the little child, but, perhaps because +he had no children of his own, the memory of the dark baby eyes had never +been banished from his mind. He caught himself wondering, not without a +touch of emotion, what sort of man had grown out of the minute being he +had rescued; but curiously enough--and typically enough of the +contrariness of human sympathy--from the moment he caught sight of the +tall figure advancing to meet him from the steps of the palace, all +kindly, gentle feelings died out of him, and his old prejudice of race +awoke. Possibly--nay, certainly--the child had had less need of sympathy +than the man, but the Colonel's heart froze toward him, and his formal +response to his host's greeting was icy with the unconquerable +consciousness of the gulf between them. + +Yet, for eyes unblinded by preconceived aversion, Nehal Singh was at that +moment good to look upon. He was simply dressed in white, with no jewels +save for a great diamond in his turban, and this very simplicity threw +into strong relief his unusually well-built figure and the features to +whose almost classical perfection was added a strength, a force of +intellect which classical beauty is too often denied. Quietly and +modestly, conscious of his own worth, ignorant and inexperienced of the +world, he was utterly unaware of the stone barrier that his guests +presented to his own open-hearted welcome. For him the whole of his past +life concentrated itself on this moment when the gates of the Universe +rolled back, and he advanced to meet the representatives of its Greatest +People. He thought, in the simple, natural egoism of a man who has lived a +life cut off from others, that they would understand this and feel with +him. + +What his own feelings were he hardly knew--perhaps among them, though +unrecognized, was the faintest chill of disappointment. He had had no +definite expectations, but his imagination had unconsciously been at work, +and touched with its illuminating fire the sons of the heroes whose deeds +had filled his quiet existence with romance, painting his picture of them +with colors which the reality did not justify. Certainly the little +Colonel had nothing either romantic or heroic in his appearance, and what +was good and kindly in his bronzed face was hidden behind the mask of his +racial pride. + +His first words were delivered in a harsh voice, which betrayed only too +clearly his real feelings, though Nehal Singh recognized nothing but its +disagreeableness. + +"Rajah Sahib, you have honored us with the wish to become acquainted with +the English people dwelling in your State," he began, "and it is therefore +my pleasure and duty to present to you the officers of the regiments--" He +stumbled awkwardly, the strangeness of the situation, the direct and +searching gaze of his host, throwing him completely out of whatever +oratory powers he possessed. It was Nehal Singh himself who saved the +situation. + +"It is my pleasure to receive you," he said, in his slow, painstaking +English, "and I am honored by the readiness with which you have complied +with my desire to meet the Great People to whom my land owes so much. +Though hitherto I have lived apart from them, I am not wholly ignorant of +their greatness. I know, for my fathers and my books have shown me, that +there is no other nation so powerful nor whose sons are so noble. +Therefore I welcome you with all my heart as a brother, and if such +entertainment as I have tried to prepare for your pleasure is not to your +taste, I pray you to forgive me, for therein am I indeed ignorant." + +For a few among the English party his words, spoken slowly and with a +simple sincerity, were not without their charm. Yet, little as he knew it, +he had succeeded in one short speech in touching two dangerous spots in +his relationship to his guests--his ancestry and his equality. But here +again his ignorance veiled from him what was written clearly enough on a +dozen frozen faces. + +"I should be glad to be made personally acquainted with each of your +officers," he went on. "For men who serve under one flag should know each +other well." + +Colonel Carmichael obeyed, thankful for any occupation which saved him the +necessity of replying; and one by one the solemn, unmoved faces came under +Nehal Singh's eager gaze, bowed, and passed on. Each resented in turn the +intense scrutiny of their host, and none guessed its cause. For them it +was the insolent stare of a colored man who had ventured to place himself +on an equality with themselves. They could not have known that he was +seeking familiar features, nor that, as one after another passed on, a +cold chill of disappointment was settling on a heart warm with +preconceived admiration and respect. They could not have known that his +unconscious presumption had hidden a real desire to find among them the +hero to whom his man's worship of courage and greatness could have been +dedicated. He was too young--and especially too young in worldly +wisdom--to realize that the outside man is not of necessity the man +himself. He merely felt, as each wooden face confronted his own, that here +was surely no Great Man, no Hero. Only when it came to the civilians his +eyes rested with some degree of satisfaction on Travers' well-knit figure +and fresh-colored face. For the first time during the whole proceedings +the prince smiled, and in turn received a smile. + +The ladies had by this time arrived, and the presentations continued. +There was no change in Nehal Singh's demeanor when he stood before +Beatrice Cary--no change, at least, visible to the curious eyes that +watched. If there was any hidden meaning in his expression during the +brief instant that they looked at each other, only she herself could have +read it; and this she apparently did not do, for her face retained its +Madonna peace and dignity. + +"I think Rajah Sahib and Miss Cary have already met?" remarked Travers, +who was acting as master of the ceremonies. + +"Yes, we have met," Nehal Singh answered, and passed on. + +If any hesitation showed itself in his manner, it was before Lois +Caruthers. A swift shade of puzzled surprise clouded his features. + +"You have been a long time in India?" he asked, after the first words of +introduction. The question sounded as though he merely sought her +affirmation to something he already knew. + +"Almost all my life, Rajah Sahib," she answered. Possibly it was a natural +shyness which made her voice sound troubled and nervous. She seemed to +heave a sigh of relief when he once more moved on. Yet he had impressed +her agreeably. + +"Is he not handsome?" she said in an undertone to her companion, Stafford. +"I think he is quite the handsomest man I have seen, and he has the +manners of an Englishman. I wonder where he got them from." + +"I don't know," Stafford returned. "These people have a wonderful trick of +picking up things. At any rate he realizes Miss Cary's curious +description--beautiful; though, with Miss Berry, I do not care for the +word as applied to a man. He seems a nice sort of fellow, too, quiet and +unaffected, and that is more to me than his good looks. It's rather a +pity." + +"What is a pity?" she asked, surprised. + +"Oh, well, that he is what he is. Don't look so pained. It's not only my +'narrow-hearted prejudice,' as you call it. It's more than that. I'm sorry +for the man himself. It all confirms my first opinion that it is rather +bad luck." + +"Why?" she demanded obstinately. + +"Don't you understand? If you had seen Webb's face when he talked about +'as a brother a brother,' you would have understood well enough. He has +been made a fool of, and sooner or later he will have his eyes roughly +opened. As I say, it seems bad luck." + +"You mean he would have done better to keep to his old seclusion?" she +said thoughtfully. + +"That's about it." He smiled down at her, and they suddenly forgot the +Rajah in that curious happiness of two beings who need no words to tell +them that each is understood by the other, and that a secret current of +thought and feeling flows beneath every word and touch. "Come," he went +on. "It seems that we are to have the run of the place. Shall we explore?" + +She nodded a quick agreement, and they started off, thus following the +example of others of the party who had already made use of the Rajah's +suggestion that they should visit the chief and most interesting portions +of the palace. Nehal Singh himself stood alone, and thankful for his +loneliness. For the last ten minutes Colonel Carmichael and he had stood +side by side, and found no word to say to each other. The past, which +might have been a link, proved itself a barrier which neither could scale, +and presently, on some excuse, the Colonel had hurried off to join his +wife. As though guided by a sure instinct, Nehal Singh turned in the +direction where Beatrice was standing with her mother and Travers. Without +hesitation he went up to her. + +"I have waited to be your guide," he said. His words sounded amusingly +decided and matter-of-course, and a smile of not very sympathetic meaning +passed over the faces of those within earshot. + +"You can be sure she went a lot further than she cared to say," Mrs. Berry +whispered to her daughter. "You can see how everything was made up +beforehand. I wonder what she expects to get out of him?" + +Though the remark did not reach her, Beatrice's instinct and bitter +experience supplied her with a sure key to the look that was exchanged +between the two women. She smiled gaily. + +"I shall be only too pleased," she said. "What I have seen has made me +thirst for more." + +"Indeed, Your Highness," Mrs. Cary broke in eagerly. "I must not forget to +thank you for the really very kind assistance you lent my reckless +daughter the other day. I do not know what would have happened to her if +it had not been for you!" + +Nehal Singh looked at her with a grave wonder. + +"You are her mother--?" he said, and then stopped short. The wonder was +reflected so clearly in his tone that an angry flush mounted to Mrs. +Cary's fat cheeks. + +"I have that honor, Your Highness," she said acidly. + +"Mrs. Cary!" Travers called from the flower-bed over which he was leaning. +"If the Rajah Sahib can spare you, do come and look at these flowers. They +are extraordinary." + +With her head in the air, her plumes waving, a picture of ruffled dignity, +Mrs. Cary swayed her way in the direction indicated, and Nehal Singh and +Beatrice found themselves alone. + +"Will you come with me now?" he asked. "I have still so much to show you." + +She saw the look of self-satisfied "I-told-you-so" horror written on the +faces of Mrs. Berry and her friends, who stood a little farther off +whispering and nodding, and if she had felt the slightest hesitation, she +hesitated no longer. + +"Lead the way, Rajah Sahib," she said coolly. "I follow." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE IDEAL + + +On either side of them tall palm-trees raised their splendid heads high +above the shrubs and sweet-smelling plants that clustered like a +protecting wall about their feet, and as Beatrice and her companion passed +a sharp bend it seemed as though they had been suddenly cut off from the +chattering crowd behind them and had entered into a wonderful, silent +world in which they were alone. + +Was it the beauty of her surroundings, or was it the man beside her, which +sent the curious, almost painful emotion through her angry heart? For she +was angry--angry with her mother, with herself and him--chiefly with him. +He had been too sure. And yet she was flattered. Also, it was a pleasure +for the first time to be with some one with whom she could drop her +weapons and have no fear. She looked up at him, and found that he was +watching her. + +"It was not good-by for ever," he said. "We have met again." + +Her anger suddenly subsided. His slow English, with its foreign accent, +his dark features and native dress reminded her vividly that he was of +another (implied, inferior) race, and therefore not to be judged by +ordinary standards. She gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment. + +"You have overthrown destiny," she said, smiling. "You have made the +impossible possible. How was I to know all that when I prophesied we +should not meet again?" + +"I have not overthrown destiny," he answered. "I have fulfilled it." + +"Are you sure of that?" + +"Quite sure." + +She looked away from him up to the golden dome of the temple which rose +before them against the unclouded sky. Because she had thrown down her +weapons, and in the irresponsible pleasure of the moment become herself, +she acquired a power of penetration and understanding which is denied to +those who with their own hearts closed seek to know the hearts of others. + +"Do you know," she said suddenly, "when Colonel Carmichael presented +himself to you, and all the others, I watched you, and I rather fancy I +read something on your face which you didn't want to show. I wonder if I +am right." + +"It is possible," he answered gravely. "In this last hour I have already +begun to regret that I have never studied to control my emotions. I show +when I am surprised, disappointed, or--startled. Hitherto, there has been +no reason why I should not do so. But now that I am among my equals, it is +different." + +She bit her lip, not in anger but in an almost pained surprise at this +man's ignorance of the world into which he was entering. He was not +presuming to place himself on the level with the Englishman; it seemed as +if he were inoffensively lifting the Englishman up to himself. She was +sorry for him as one is sorry for all kindly fools. + +"Tell me what you read!" he begged, after a moment. "Perhaps you will know +better than I myself. I am almost sure you will." + +"I read disappointment," she answered. "Was that so?" + +His brows contracted slightly. + +"I _was_ disappointed," he admitted, "but that was my own fault. I had +never met English people--only heard of them. What I had heard made me +imagine things which it seems have no reality." + +"Did you expect demigods?" she asked. + +"I do not know what I expected--but it was something different. You know +the men I have met to-day. Are they all great-hearted and brave?" + +She did not laugh at the question, though there was cause enough to have +excused it. + +"I can not tell you," she answered. "Only circumstances can bring such +virtues to light, and hitherto the circumstances have been lacking. All +men do not wear their heart on their sleeve," she answered, not without +malice. + +He nodded. + +"I am glad to hear you say that, for no doubt you are right. I am very +ignorant, I fear, and was foolish enough to expect heroes to have the face +and figure of heroes. It grieved me for a moment to find that I was the +tallest and best-looking among them. Now that you have explained, I see +that the greatness lies beneath." + +This time she laughed, and laughed so heartily that he joined in with her, +though he did not know what had caused her amusement. He took pleasure in +watching her when she laughed. Her statuesque beauty yielded then to a +warm, pulsating life, which transformed her and made her seem to him more +human, more attainable. For he had never shaken off the belief that she +and a divine agency were closely linked together. + +"You must not compare yourself with Englishmen," she said, when she had +recovered, "neither in face, nor stature, nor ideals. You must always +remember that we are of another race." + +"And yet you fulfilled my highest ideal." + +"Perhaps I am the exception," she retorted, dangerously near another +outburst. "Did all the women this afternoon fulfil your ideal?" + +"No!" very decidedly. + +"There! You see, then, that I am the exception. Besides, I am not a man. +Men require to be differently judged, and we have perhaps other ideals." + +"That also is possible," he assented, "and I know that, because the +English are such a great people, their ideals must be very high, perhaps +higher than mine. Since I am now to go among them, I wish to know what +they consider necessary in the character of a great man.". + +"That is too hard a question," she said hurriedly. "I can not describe the +national ideal to you, because I am too ignorant and have never thought +about it. You must ask some one else." + +They had come to the end of the path and stood before a square opening, on +the other side of which the two massive gopuras of the temple rose in +their monumental splendor two hundred feet above them. They were still +alone. None of the sightseers seemed to have found the sacred spot, and +for a moment she stood still, awed in spite of herself. + +"I should be quite content with _your_ ideal," he said gently, breaking in +upon her admiration. "I feel that it will be the highest." + +"You ask of me more than I can answer." + +"I beg of you!" he pleaded earnestly. "I have my reasons." + +Again she bit her lip. It was too absurd, too ridiculous! That she, of all +people, who had seen into the darkest, most sordid depths of the human +character, and long since learned to look upon goodness and virtue as +exploded myths, should be set to work to draw up an ideal which she did +not and could not believe in, seemed a mockery too pitiful for laughter. +Yet something--perhaps it was a form of national pride--stung her to the +task, moreover stung her to do her best and place beyond the reach of +these dark hands a high and splendid figure of English ideals. + +To help herself, she sought through the lumber-rooms of her memory, and +drew thence a hundred ideas, thoughts and conceptions which had belonged +to a short--terribly short--childhood. Like a middle-aged woman who comes +suddenly upon a hoard of long since forgotten toys, and feels an emotion +half pitying, half regretful, so Beatrice Cary displayed to her companion +things that for years had lain forsaken and neglected in the background of +her mind. The dust lay thick upon them--and yet they were well enough. +They would have been beautiful, had she believed in them, but, like the +toys, they had lost the glamour and illusionary light in which her youth +and imagination had bathed them. + +"Our highest ideal of a man we call a gentleman," she said slowly. "It is +a much-abused term, but it can mean a very great deal. What his appearance +is does not so much matter--indeed, when one looks into it, it does not +matter at all, save that you will find that the ugliest face can often +give you an index to a lovely character. The chief thing that we require +of him is that he should be above all meanness and pettiness. He must be +great-thinking and great-feeling for himself and others, especially for +others. You will find that a good man is always thinking or working for +those others whose names he may not even know. Whatever power or talent he +has--however little it may be--he concentrates on some object which may +help them. It is the same with his virtues. He cultivates them because he +knows that there is not a high thought, or generous impulse, or noble deed +which does not help to lift the standard of the whole world." + +"Of what virtues are you speaking?" Nehal Singh interposed. + +"Oh, the usual things," she returned, with a note of cynicism breaking +through her sham enthusiasm. "Honesty, purity, generosity, +loyalty--especially loyalty. I do not think a man who is true to himself, +to his word, to his friend, and to his country can ever fall far below the +ideal." She took a deep breath. "It is a very poor description that I have +given you. I hope you have understood?" + +"Yes, I have understood," he answered. "And this man--this gentleman--can +be of all nations?" + +So deeply ingrained is national prejudice, even in those who profess to +regard the whole world with an equally contemptuous eye, that for an +instant she hesitated. + +"Of course," she said then. "Nationality makes no difference." + +They crossed over the broad square, through the gopura, into the inner +temple. Nehal Singh, who had sunk into a deep meditation, roused himself +and called to her notice many curious and beautiful things which she would +otherwise have passed by without interest. Whether it was his loving +description, or whether it was because she was calmer, she could not say, +but the place impressed her with its stately magnificence as it had not +done before. + +"The ages seem to hang like ghosts in the atmosphere," she told her +companion, in a hushed undertone. + +He assented, and the dreamer's look which had haunted his eyes for +twenty-five years crept back into its place. + +"Who knows what unseen world surrounds us?" he said quietly. + +They had already left the first court behind them and passed the Sacred +Pool, a placid, untroubled mirror for the overhanging trees and towering +minarets. There they had paused a moment, watching their own reflections +which the warm evening sunshine cast on to the smooth surface. Then they +had moved on, and now stood before the entrance of the Holy of Holies. +Beatrice drew back with a gesture of alarm. A tall, white-clad figure had +suddenly stepped out of the shadowy portal and stood erect and +threatening, one hand raised as though to forbid their entrance. Long +afterward, Beatrice remembered the withered face, and always with a +shudder of unreasonable terror. + +"Do not be afraid," Nehal Singh said. "He defends the entrance against +strangers. He will let you pass." + +He went up to the old priest and spoke a few words in Hindustani, which +Beatrice did not understand. Immediately the Brahman stood aside, and +though his stern, piercing gaze never left her face, she felt that by some +means or other his animosity had been disarmed. + +"What did you say to him?" she asked. + +Nehal Singh shook his head. + +"One day I will tell you," he answered; and some instinct made her +hesitate to press the question further. + +Thus they stood once more before the great golden statue, this time side +by side. The sanctuary was built in the shape of a half-circle, the high, +vaulted roof supported by slender pillars of carved black marble. There +was no other attempt at ornamentation. The three-headed figure of the god +reigned in the center from a massive altar in solitary splendor, and from +a small opening overhead a frail ray of evening light mingled its pale +yellow with the brilliant crimson flame of the Sacred Lamp which burnt +before the idol, casting an almost unearthly reflection about the +passionless chiseled features. In spite of herself, Beatrice felt that the +place was charmed, and that the charm was drawing into its ban her very +thoughts and emotions. She felt subdued, quieted. It was as she had +said--the ages seemed to hover like ghosts about them, and her hard, +worldly skepticism could make no stand against the hush and mystery of the +past. Here generation after generation, amidst danger, battle and death, +men had bowed down and poured out their hottest, most fervent prayers, and +their sincerity and faith had sanctified the ground for Christian, Brahman +and skeptic alike. + +Beatrice looked at the man beside her. She had the feeling that, while she +had stood and wondered, he had been praying; and possibly she was right, +though he returned her glance immediately. + +"This is a holy place," he said. "It is holiest of all for me. Here I have +spent my most solemn happy hours; here God spoke direct to me and answered +me." + +It seemed quite natural that he should speak thus so openly and directly +to her of his nearest concerns. The barrier which separated them perhaps, +after all, made the intercourse between them easier and less constrained +than it would otherwise have been. They had no responsibility toward each +other. They lived in different worlds, and if for a moment they exchanged +messages, it was only for a moment. When it was over, the dividing sea +would once more roll between them, leaving no trace of their brief +intercourse. + +Remembering all this, she threw off the momentary sense of trouble. + +"Tell me how and when that was," she said. + +"I can not tell you--not now. One day I will. One day I shall have a great +deal to tell you, and you will have a great deal to tell me. You will tell +me of your faith. I know nothing of your God. All that has been kept +secret from me." + +"How do you know I have a God?" she demanded sharply. + +They had passed out of the sanctuary and were walking back toward the +entrance. He half stopped and looked at her in grave surprise. + +"How do I know? How, rather, is it possible that it should be otherwise? +You are too good and beautiful not to have learnt at the feet of a great +teacher." + +His naivete and confidence set her once more in a state between indulgent +amusement and anger. Another man she would have laughed at straight in the +face, but this simple belief in her goodness threw her out of her usual +stride, and in the end she left him without answer, save that which he +chose to interpret from her silence. + +As they reached the great doorway through the gopura, a tall figure +advanced to meet them which Beatrice at once recognized in spite of the +gathering twilight. She had been expecting this new-comer for some time, +yet his appearance disturbed her as something undesirable. + +"There is a man I like," Nehal Singh remarked, with a sudden pleasure. "Is +not Travers his name? He disappointed me least of all." + +"You have an excellent judgment," Beatrice returned. + +If there was an undercurrent of sarcasm in her approval, Nehal Singh did +not notice it. He advanced quickly to meet Travers. + +"I am glad you have found your way here," he said. "It is the most +beautiful part of all, and perhaps I should have acted as guide to my +other guests. But my first duty was here." He turned to Beatrice with a +grave inclination. + +Travers laughed. + +"You need be in no alarm, Rajah Sahib," he said. "We have been enjoying +ourselves immensely, and no wonder, considering all the glories that have +been laid open to us. I have seen much wealth and splendor in India, but +not as here. I feel overwhelmed." + +"There is still much for you to see," Nehal Singh answered with a proud +pleasure. + +Other members of the party had by this time joined them, and Beatrice +dropped back to her mother's side. The whole thing had been, as Mrs. Berry +said, arranged, but not in the way the good lady supposed, and Beatrice's +task was at an end. + +Travers hastened his step imperceptibly, so that the distance between him +and the rest was increased beyond hearing distance. + +"Of course," he began, with a frank confidence which fell pleasingly on +his companion's ears, "I am a business man, and a great deal of my +admiration is from a business standpoint. You will perhaps hardly +understand me when I say that my flesh simply creeps when I think of all +the wealth that lies here inactive. Wealth is power, Rajah Sahib, and in +your hand there lies a power for good or evil which dazzles the senses of +a less fortunate man." + +Nehal Singh lifted his face thoughtfully toward the evening sky. + +"Power for good or evil!" he echoed. "It may be that you are right. But +power is a great clumsy giant, who can accomplish nothing without the +experienced guiding brain." + +"I imagine you have both, Rajah Sahib." + +"Not the experience. I have led a life apart. I feel myself helpless +before the very thought of any effort in the world. Yet I should be glad +to accomplish something--to help even a little in the general progress." + +"You will learn easily enough," Travers broke in, with enthusiasm. "It is +only necessary to go outside your gates to find a hundred outlets for +energy and purpose. If you traveled two days among your people, you would +come back knowing very well what awaited your power to accomplish." + +"I am glad to hear you say so," Nehal returned, smiling, "for I am +ambitious." + +"Ambition and power!" exclaimed Travers. "You are indeed to be envied, +Rajah Sahib!" + +"What would you do in my place?" Nehal asked, after a moment, in a lighter +tone, which concealed a real and eager curiosity. + +Travers shook his head. + +"The greater the power the greater the responsibility," he answered. "I +couldn't say on the spur of the moment. If I were given time, no doubt I +should be able to tell you." + +"I give you till our next meeting, then," Nehal said gravely. + +"Our next meeting? I trust, then, Rajah Sahib that you will condescend to +be the guest of the English Station?" + +Nehal turned his head to hide the flash of boyish satisfaction which shone +out of his eyes. It was that he wanted--to go among this people, from +their own hearth to judge them, and to probe down into the source of their +greatness. + +"It would give me much pleasure," he answered quietly. + +It was Travers' turn to hide the triumph which the willing acceptance +aroused. Nevertheless, his next words were whimsically regretful. + +"Unfortunately, we have no place in which to offer you a fitting welcome, +Rajah Sahib," he said. "For a long time it has been the ambition of the +Station to build some place wherein all such festivities could be properly +celebrated. But alas!"--he shrugged his shoulders--"it is the fate of the +Anglo-Indian to work for the richness and greatness of his country and +himself remain miserably poor." + +"How much money would be required?" Nehal Singh asked. + +"You will no doubt be amused at the smallness of the sum--a mere four +thousand rupees--but it is just so much we have not got." + +Nehal Singh smiled. + +"Let me at once begin to make use of my power," he said graciously. "It +would be a pleasure to me to mark my first meeting with you by the gift of +the building you require. I place the matter in your hands, Sahib Travers. +For the time being, until I have gained my own experience, yours must be +the guiding brain." + +The good-looking Englishman appeared to be considerably taken +aback--almost distressed. + +"You are too generous, Rajah Sahib!" he protested. To himself he commented +on the rapidity with which this fellow had picked up the lingo of polite +society. + +All further conversation was cut short by a cry of admiration from the +crowd behind them. They had reached the chief entrance to the palace, and +suddenly, as though at a given signal, every outline of the building +became marked out by countless points of light which sparkled starlike +against the darkening sky. At the same instant, the temple to their left +took form in a hundred colors, and a burst of weird music broke on the +ears of the wondering spectators. It was a strange and beautiful scene, +such as few of them had ever seen. Fairy palaces of fire seemed to hover +miraculously in the evening air, and over everything hung the curious, +indefinable charm of the mysterious East. + +Nehal Singh turned and found Lois Caruthers standing with Stafford a +little behind him. Both their names were forgotten, but the dark eager +face of the girl attracted him and at the same time puzzled him as +something which struck a hitherto unsuspected chord in his innermost self. + +"You find it well?" he asked her. + +"It is most beautiful," she answered. "It is good of you, Rajah Sahib, to +give us so much pleasure." + +That was all she said, but among all his memories of that evening she +remained prominent, because she had spoken sincerely, warmly, +enthusiastically. Others thanked him--the Colonel's little speech at the +end was a piece of studied rhetoric, but it left him cold where her thanks +had left him warm, almost gratefully so. + +On the whole, the first meeting between the English residents of Marut and +the young native prince was classified as a success. As they drove through +the darkness, the returning guests called terse criticisms to one another +which tended to the conclusion that the whole thing had not been at all +bad, and that for the circumstances the Rajah was a remarkably +well-mannered individual. + +Beatrice Cary took no part in the light-hearted exchange. Her mother had +gone off with Mrs. Carmichael in her carriage, and Travers having offered +to drive her home, she had accepted, and now sat by his side, thoughtful, +almost depressed, though she did not own it, even to herself. + +Try as she would she could not throw off the constantly recurring memory +of her parting with Nehal Singh. She made fun of it and of herself, and +yet she could not laugh over it--her power of irresponsible enjoyment had +been taken suddenly from her. + +"You will not now say that we shall never meet again," he had said, +pressing something into her hand. "Now you will never forget," he had +added. "It is a talisman of remembrance." + +What he had given her she did not know. It lay tightly clutched in the +palm of her hand--something hard and cold which she dared not look at. + +She had not even been able to remonstrate or thank him. She had been +spellbound, hypnotized. + +"It really has been splendid!" she heard Travers say in her ear. "Things +went just like clockwork. Five minutes' conversation got the whole +clubhouse out of him, and what you managed in your quarter of an hour, +goodness knows. You are a clever woman and no mistake!" + +"Please--don't!" she burst out irritably. + +"Hullo! What's the matter? What are you so cross about?" + +"I'm not cross--only tired, tired, tired and sick of it all. Do drive on!" + +Far behind them a solitary figure stood on the broad steps of the palace, +amidst the dying splendors of the evening and gazed in the direction which +the merry procession had taken. A long time it had stood there, +motionless, passive, the fine husk of the soul which had wandered out into +a new world of hope and possibilities following the woman whose hand had +flung the gates wide for him to enter in. + +Another figure crept out of the shadows and drew near. Twisted and bent, +it stood beside the bold, upright form and lifted its face, hate-filled, +to the pale light of the stars. + +"Nehal Singh, Nehal Singh--oh, my son!" + +The prince turned coldly. + +"Is it thou? Hast thou a dagger in thy hand?" + +"I have no dagger--would to God I had! Nehal Singh, I have seen mine +enemy's face." + +"How meanest thou? Thy enemy is dead." + +"Nevertheless, his face is among the living. As a servant, I crept among +the strangers, and saw him straight in the eyes. He has grown younger, but +it is he. It is the body of the son, but the soul of his father in his +eyes--and, father or son, their blood is poison to me." + +Nehal Singh knit his brows. + +"Knowest thou his name?" + +"Ay, now I know his name. It came back to me when I saw his face. Stafford +he was called--Stafford!" He crept closer, his thin hand fell like a vise +on Nehal's arm. "Kill him!" he whispered. "Kill him--the son of thy +father's betrayer!" + +Nehal Singh shook himself free. + +"I can not," he answered proudly, and a warm thrill of enthusiasm rang in +his voice. "I can not. They are all my brothers. I can not take my +brother's blood." + +With a moan of anger the twisted figure crept back into the shadow, and +once more Nehal Singh stood alone. + +Unconsciously he had accepted and proclaimed Beatrice Cary's ideal as his +own. The hour of bloodshed was gone, mercy and justice called him in its +stead. And in that acceptance of a new era his gaze pierced through the +obscurity into a light beyond. The jungle which had bound his life was +gone; all hindrances, all gulfs of hatred and revenge, were overthrown and +bridged. The world of the Great People stood open to him, and to them he +held out the casteless hand of love and fellowship. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +CHECKED + + +Lois and Stafford had arrived at that stage of friendship when +conversation becomes unnecessary. They walked side by side through the +Colonel's carefully tended garden and were scarcely conscious that +they had dropped into a thoughtful silence. Yet, as though in +obedience to some unspoken agreement, their footsteps found their way +to the ruined bungalow and there paused. + +As a look can be more powerfully descriptive than a word, so these +shot-riddled walls had their own eloquence. Each shot-hole, each +jagged splinter and torn hinge had its own history and added its +pathetic detail to the whole picture of that disastrous night when the +vengeance of Behar Singh had burst like a hurricane over the +defenseless land. + +After a moment's hesitation Stafford stepped forward and, pushing +aside the heavy festoons of creeper which barred the doorway, passed +through into the gloomy interior. + +"I should like to see the place from the inside," he explained to +Lois, who, with an uncontrollable shudder, had followed him. "One can +imagine better then how it all happened." + +"I think of it all--often," she answered in a hushed voice, "and every +time I seem to see things differently. My poor mother!" + +"You never knew her?" he asked. + +"No, I was too young--scarcely more than a year old. Yet her loss +seems to have overshadowed my whole life." + +"Was she like you?" + +"Yes, I believe so. She was dark--not so dark as I am--but she was +stately and beautiful. So she has always been described to me, and so +I always seem to see her." + +Stafford turned and looked about him. + +"It must be almost as it was then," he said wonderingly, pointing to +the rusty truckle-bed in the corner. "And there is the broken +over-turned chair! It might have been yesterday." + +She nodded. + +"So my guardian found it," she said. "It had been my father's bungalow +and he never allowed it to be touched. When I came of age I gave it to +him. It seemed to belong to him, somehow. They say that it nearly +broke his heart when he found that he had come too late to save my +father. My father was his dearest, almost his only friend." + +"Were they killed at once?" Stafford asked with hesitating curiosity. +"I have never known the rights of the case. It has always been a +painful subject for me--with you I don't mind." + +It was the faintest allusion to a bond between them which both +silently recognized, and Lois turned away to hide the signal of +happiness which had risen to her cheeks. + +"No one knows," she answered. "The bodies were never found. It was +part of Behar Singh's cruelty to hide the real fate of his victims. +For a long time people used to hope and hope that in some dungeon or +prison they would find their friends, but they never did. One can only +pray that the end was a mercifully quick one." + +"And Behar Singh died in the jungle?" + +"So the natives said. No one really knows," she replied. + +"I wish he hadn't," Stafford said, his good-natured face darkening. +"It seems unfair that he should have caused our people to suffer so +much and we have never had the chance to pay back. Whatever made the +Government give his son the power, goodness only knows." + +"The present Rajah was a baby then," she said in a tone of gentle +remonstrance. "It would have been hard to have punished him for the +sins of his father." + +Nothing appeals to a man more than a woman's undiplomatic tenderness +for the whole world. Stafford looked down at Lois with a smile. + +"You dear, good-hearted little girl!" he said. "And yet, blood is +blood, you know. Somehow, one can't get over it. In spite of his good +looks, it always seems to me as though I could see his father's +treachery in Nehal Singh's eyes. It made me sick to think that I was +enjoying his hospitality--it makes me feel worse that we have to +accept the club-house at his hands. Travers behaved pretty badly, +according to my ideas." + +"It was mostly Miss Cary's doing," Lois objected. She liked Travers, +and was inclined to take up the cudgels on his behalf. + +Stafford's eyes twinkled. On his side he had the rooted and not +unfounded masculine notion that all women are jealous of one another. + +"Miss Cary is young and inexperienced and probably did not realize +what she was doing," he retorted. "From what she told me, she takes +the whole matter as a big joke, and now that the fat is in the fire +it's no use enlightening her." + +Lois made no immediate answer, though she may have had her doubts on +the subject of Beatrice Cary's inexperience. + +"The poor Rajah!" she said, after a pause, as Stafford walked +curiously about the room. "I could not help being sorry for him. He +seemed so eager and enthusiastic and anxious to please us, and we were +so cold and ungrateful. Tell me, does it really make so much +difference?" + +He came back to her side. Something in her voice had touched him and +stirred to life a warmth of feeling which was more than that of +friendship. + +"What makes so much difference?" he asked, smiling down at her small +troubled face. "What are you worrying yourself about now?" + +"Oh, it has always troubled me," she answered with the impetuosity +which characterized her. "I have often worried about it. I mean," she +added, as he laughed at her incoherence, "all that race distinction. +Does it really mean so much? Will it never be bridged over?" + +"Never," he said. "It can't be. It is a justified distinction and to +my mind those who ignore it are to be despised." + +He had answered her question with only a part seriousness, his whole +interest concentrated on the charm of her personality. But for once +her gravity resisted the suppressed merriment in his eyes. + +"Are the natives, then, so contemptible?" she asked. + +"Not exactly contemptible, but inferior. They have not our culture, +and whatsoever they borrow from us is only skin-deep. Beneath the +varnish they are their elemental selves--lazy, cruel, treacherous and +unscrupulous. No, no. Each race must keep to itself. Our strength in +India depends on our exclusiveness--upon keeping ourselves apart and +above as superior beings. So long as they recognize we _are_ superior, +so long will they obey us." + +"It is superiority, then, which prevents every one except professors +from taking any interest in the natives?" + +"Possibly," he returned, not quite so much at his ease. "One feels a +natural repugnance, you know." + +"You would never have anything to do with them?" + +"Not if I could help it." + +She sighed and turned away as though his gaze troubled her. + +"I don't know why--it makes me sad to hear you talk like that," she +said. "It seems so terribly hard." + +"It _is_ hard," he affirmed, following her out of the curious, heavy +atmosphere into the evening sunshine. "There are a great many things +in life which, as far as we know, are inevitable, so that there is no +use in worrying or thinking about them." Her more serious mood had +conquered his good spirits, and for a moment he stood at her side +looking at the disused bungalow with eyes as thoughtful as her own. +"Isn't it strange?" he went on. "Our parents came together from +different ends of the earth, doomed to die in the same spot and in the +same hour, and we children, far away in England, knowing nothing of +each other, have drifted back to the fatal place to find each other +there and to--" + +"Yes," she said as he hesitated, "it is strange. I could almost think +that this bungalow had some mysterious influence over our lives." + +He smiled in half confirmation of her fancy. + +"It may be. But come! We have had enough gloom for one evening. Let me +gather some flowers for you before we go back." + +She assented, and they followed the winding paths, stopping here and +there to cut down some of the most tempting of Mrs. Carmichael's +tenderly loved blossoms and always turning aside when they came in +sight of the Colonel's verandah. No word of tenderness had ever passed +between them, and yet they were happy to be together. It was as though +a bond united them which had grown up, silent and unseen, from the +first hour they had met, and in a quiet, peaceful way they knew that +it existed and that they loved each other. + +From the verandah where she was sewing by the fading light Mrs. +Carmichael could watch their appearing and disappearing figures amidst +the trees with the satisfaction of a confirmed match-maker. She, too, +knew of this bond, and though she was a trifle impatient with the +slowness of the development, she was content to bide her time. + +"I don't usually pay any attention to Station gossip," she said to her +husband, who was trying to read the newly arrived English paper, "but +for once in a way I believe there is something in it. According to my +experience, they should be engaged in less than a fortnight." + +Colonel Carmichael started. + +"Who? Lois and Stafford?" + +"Yes, of course. Who else? Everybody looks upon it as practically +settled. Why do you look like that? You ought to be pleased. You said +yourself that you were very fond of Stafford--" + +Carmichael made a quick gesture as though to stop the threatening +torrent of expostulation. He had turned crimson and his whole manner +was marked by an unusual uneasiness. + +"Of course, I am fond of Stafford," he began. "I only meant--" + +He was saved the trouble of explaining what he did mean by a sudden +exclamation from his wife, who had let her work fall to the ground +with a start of alarm. + +"Good gracious, Mr. Travers!" she cried in her sharp way. "What a +fright you gave me! I thought you were a horrible thug or something +come to murder us all. There, how do you do!" She gave him her hand. +"Will you have a cup of tea? We have just had ours, but if you would, +I am quite ready to keep you company. Tea, as you know, is a weakness +of mine. That is why my nerves are so bad." + +Travers bowed, smiling. He was rather paler than usual and the hand +which held a large bouquet of freshly cut flowers trembled as though +the shock his sudden appearance had caused Mrs. Carmichael had +recoiled on himself. + +"Thank you--no," he said. "As a matter of fact, I came to bring these +for Miss Caruthers, but as she is not here I should be very grateful +if I might have a few words with you alone. I have something of +importance, which it would be perhaps better to tell you first." + +"Certainly," the Colonel said, clearing his throat and settling +himself farther back in his chair. "There is no time like the +present." + +Travers looked at him in troubled surprise. The elder man's tone and +attitude were those of some one confronted with a not unexpected but +unpleasant crisis. + +"It concerns your ward, Colonel Carmichael," Travers said, taking the +chair offered him. "I think you must have known long ago that I cared +very dearly for her. I have come now to ask her to be my wife." + +He spoke quickly and abruptly, as though to hide a powerful emotion, +and there was an instant's uncomfortable silence. Mrs. Carmichael's +head was bent over her work. She did not dislike Travers, but this +unexpected proposal upset all her plans and though it flattered her +pride in Lois, she felt disturbed and thrown out of her course. + +"I think you have made a mistake, Mr. Travers," she said at last, as +her husband remained obstinately silent. "I have every reason to +believe that Lois' heart is given elsewhere. However, we have no right +to interfere--Lois must decide for herself. She is her own mistress. +What do you say, George, dear?" + +The Colonel shifted his position. Evidently he was at a loss to +express himself, and his brow remained clouded. + +"If it is Lois' wish, I shall put no obstacle in the way of her +happiness," he said slowly. + +"Have you any personal objection, Colonel?" + +"I? O, dear, no!" was the hurried answer. + +There was a second silence, in which Mrs. Carmichael and Travers +exchanged baffled glances. The Colonel seemed in some unaccountable +way to have lost his nerve and, as though he felt and feared the +questioning gaze of his wife, he leaned forward so that his face was +hidden. + +"Personally I have no objection at all," he repeated, as if seeking to +gain time. "Like my wife, I had other ideas on the subject, but that +has nothing to do with it. At the same time, I feel it--eh--my duty +to--eh--tell you before you go further--for your sake, and--eh--every +one's sake--certain details concerning Lois which I have not thought +necessary to give to the world in general. You understand--I consider +it my duty--only fair to yourself and Lois." + +"I quite understand," Travers said. He seemed in no way surprised, and +his expression was that of a man waiting for the explanation to a +problem which had long puzzled him. + +"Really, George!" expostulated Mrs. Carmichael, not without +indignation, "one would think you were about to disinter the most +horrible family skeleton. You are not to be alarmed, Mr. Travers. It +is all a little mysterious, perhaps, but nothing to make _such_ a fuss +about." + +The Colonel looked up under the sting of her reproach and tried to +smile. + +"I dare say my wife is right," he said. "I am rather foolish about the +matter--possibly because it is all linked together with a very painful +period of my life. Mr. Travers, my dearest friend, Steven Caruthers, +had _no_ children. The baby girl whom by his will he intrusted to my +care was not his child, nor have I ever been able to discover whose +child she really was. His will spoke of her as his adopted daughter, +who was to bear his name and in fault of any other heir to inherit +both his own and his wife's large fortune. More I can not tell you, +for I myself do not know more." + +He laid an almost timid emphasis on the word "know," as though +somewhere at the back of his mind there lurked a suspicion which he +dared neither deny nor express openly, and, in spite of his attempt at +cheerfulness, his features were still disturbed and gloomy. + +"You know one thing more, which you haven't mentioned," Mrs. +Carmichael said, "and that is that Lois is of good family on both +sides. Steven Caruthers told you so." + +"Yes, that's true--I forgot," the Colonel assented. "He assured me +that on both sides she was of good, even high birth, and that he had +adopted her partly because he had no children of his own and partly +because of a debt of gratitude which he owed her father. It does not +seem to me that it makes much difference." + +"It makes all the difference in the world, George," retorted Mrs. +Carmichael, who for some reason or another was considerably put out. +"You don't want Mr. Travers to think that Lois was picked up in the +street, do you?" + +"Of course not," her husband agreed, "but then--" He broke off, and +all three relapsed into an awkward silence. Travers was the first to +speak. He had been looking out over the garden and had seen Lois' +white dress flash through the bushes. + +"For my part," he began quietly, "I can not see that what you have +told me can have an influence on the matter. I love Lois. That is the +chief thing--or rather the chief thing is whether or not she can learn +to love me. Whether she is the child of a sweep or a prince, it makes +no difference to my feelings toward her." + +Mrs. Carmichael held out her hand. + +"Well, whatever happens, you are a man before you are a prig," she +said, "and that is something to be thankful for in these degenerate +days. Why, there is the child herself! Come here, my dear." + +Lois came running up the verandah steps with Stafford close behind +her. Her eyes were full of laughter and sunshine, and in her hand she +held a mass of roses which Stafford had gathered during their ramble. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Travers," she exclaimed with pleased surprise, as +he rose to greet her. "I did not expect to find you here. How grave +you all look! And what lovely flowers!" + +Travers considered his bouquet with a rueful smile. + +"I brought them from my garden, Miss Caruthers," he said. "They +were meant for to-night's festivity. But it seems they have come +too late--you are already well supplied." + +"Flowers never come too late and one can never have too many of them!" +Lois answered gratefully. "Please bring them in here and I will put +them in water." + +She led the way into the drawing-room and he followed her eagerly. +Whether it was the sight of her charm and youth, or the warm greeting +which he had read in her eyes, or the satisfied calm on Stafford's +face, Travers himself could not have told, but in that moment he lost +his usual self-possession. He was white and shaken like a man who sees +himself thrust suddenly to the brink of a chasm and knows that he must +cross or fall. + +"Miss Caruthers!" he said. + +She turned quickly from the flowers which she was arranging in a bowl. +The smile of pleasure which still lingered about her lips died away as +she saw his face. + +"Miss Caruthers," he repeated earnestly, "it is perhaps neither wise +nor right of me to speak now, but there are moments when anything--even +the worst--is better than uncertainty, when a man can bear no more. +Forgive me--I am not eloquent and what I have to tell can be +encompassed in one word. I love you, Lois. I think you must know it, +though you can not know how great my love is. Is there any hope for +me?" + +She drew her hand gently but firmly from his half-unconscious clasp. + +"I am sorry--no," she said. + +"Lois--I can't give up hope. Is there some one else?" + +She lifted her troubled eyes to his face. He saw in their depths a +curious doubt and uncertainty. + +"I do not know," she said almost to herself. "I only know that you are +not the man." + +The blow had calmed him. Like a good general who has suffered a +temporary check, he gathered his forces together and prepared an +orderly retreat. + +"I will not trouble you," he said gently. "I feel now that I did wrong +to disturb your peace--God knows I would never willingly cause you an +instant's sorrow--but a man who loves as I do must feed himself with +hope, however wild and unreasonable. Now I know, and whatever +happens--I hope you will be happy--I pray you will be happy. Yes, +though I am not given to uttering prayers, I pray, so dear to me is +the future which lies before you." + +"I am very grateful," she said with bowed head. Something in his +broken, disjointed sentences brought the tears to her eyes and made +her voice unsteady. She knew he was suffering--she knew why, and her +heart went out to him in friendship and womanly pity. + +"You need not be grateful," he answered. "It is I who have to be +grateful. In spite of it all, you do not know what good you have +brought into my life nor how you have unconsciously helped me. I shall +never be able to help you as you have helped me--and yet--will you +promise me something?" + +"Anything in my power," she said faintly. + +"It is not much--only this. If the time should ever come when you are +in trouble, if you should ever be in need of a true and devoted +friend, will you turn to me? Will you let me try to pay my debt of +gratitude to you?" + +She lifted her head and looked at him with tear-dimmed eyes. Every +good woman sympathizes with those whose suffering she has +inadvertently caused, and in that moment Lois would have done anything +to alleviate Travers' pain. + +"If it should ever be necessary, I will turn to you," she said gently. +"I promise you." + +"Thank you!" he said, and, taking her out-stretched hand, raised it +reverently to his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +AT THE GATES OF A GREAT PEOPLE + + +Although Travers lost no time in setting to work on the task of +calling a new and suitable club-house into existence, he realized +immediately that, do what he would, he could not hope for completion +before the lapse of a considerable time, and this period of waiting +did not suit his plans. Already on the day after the Rajah's reception +he had arranged for a return of hospitality which was to take place in +his own grounds and to be on an unusually magnificent scale. The +European population of Marut shrugged its shoulders as it saw the +preparations, and observed that if Travers had been as generous in the +first place there would never have been any need to have sought for +support from a foreign quarter--at which criticism Travers merely +smiled. The club-house was, after all, only a means to a very much +more important end of his own. + +Rajah Nehal Singh of course accepted the invitation sent him, and +scarcely a week passed before the eventful evening arrived toward +which more than one looked forward with eager anticipation--not least +Mrs. Cary, who saw in every large entertainment a fresh opportunity +for Beatrice to carry out her own particular campaign. It was +therefore, as Mrs. Cary angrily declared, a fresh dispensation of an +unfriendly Providence that on the very same day Beatrice fell ill. +What malady had her in its clutches was more than her distracted and +aggrieved mother could say. She sat before her writing-table, playing +idly with a curiously cut stone, and appeared the picture of health. +Yet she was ill--she repeated it obstinately and without variation a +dozen times in response to Mrs. Cary's persistent protests. + +"You don't _look_ ill," Mrs. Cary exclaimed in exasperation as, +arrayed in her newest wonder from Paris, she came to say good-by. "I +can't think what's the matter with you, and you won't explain. Have +you got a pain anywhere?--Have you a headache? For goodness' sake, say +something, child!" + +Beatrice looked at her mother calmly, and a curious mixture of +bitterness and amusement crept into her expression as her eyes +wandered over the bulk in mauve satin to the red face with the +indignant little eyes. + +"What do you want me to say?" she asked. "I can't explain pains I +haven't got." + +"If you haven't got any pains, then you aren't ill." + +Beatrice laughed. + +"That shows how ignorant you are of the human constitution, my dear +mother," she said. "The worst illnesses are painless--at least, in +your sense of the word." + +"I am not so ignorant as not to know one thing--and that is you are +simply shamming!" burst out the elder woman, with a vicious tug at her +straining gloves. "Shamming just to aggravate me, too! You do it to +spite me. You are a bad daughter--" + +Beatrice turned round so sharply that Mrs. Cary broke off in the +middle of her abuse with a gasp. + +"I do nothing to aggravate or spite you," Beatrice said, with a calm +which her eyes belied. "I have never gone against you in the whole +course of my life. What have I done since we have been here but play +an obedient fiddle to Mr. Travers' will, in order that your position +might not be endangered--" + +"_Our_ position," interposed Mrs. Cary hurriedly. + +"No, _your_ position. There may have been a time when I cared, too, +but I don't now. I have ceased caring for anything. To suit Mr. +Travers, I have fooled, and continue to fool, a man who has never +harmed me in his life. I move heaven and earth to come between two +people for whom alone in this whole place, I have a glimmer of +respect." + +"Respect!" jeered Mrs. Cary. + +"Yes, respect--not much, I confess, but still enough to have made me +leave them alone if I had had the chance. Lois has been kind to me. I +happen to know that, little as she likes me, she is about the only one +in the Station who keeps her tongue from slander and--the truth. As +for John Stafford, if he is a narrow-minded bigot, he is at least a +man, and that is something to appreciate." + +"That is just what I think!" Mrs. Cary said conciliatingly. "And +therefore he is the very husband for you, dear child." + +"You think so, not because he is a man, but because he has a position +in which it would suit you excellently to have a son-in-law. Well, I +have promised to do my best, though I am convinced it is too late." + +"There is no official engagement between them," Mrs. Cary said +hopefully, "and you know your power, Beaty. He already likes you more +than enough, and what with Mr. Travers on the other side--All the +same," she continued, becoming suddenly petulant, "it's too bad of you +to throw away a chance like this." + +Beatrice covered her face with her hand with a gesture of complete +weariness. + +"I have promised to do my best," she reiterated. "Let me do it my own +way. I can not go to-night--I feel I can not. If I went, it would +only be a failure. Let me for once be judge of what is best." + +Her mother sighed resignedly. + +"Very well. I suppose I can't force you. You can be as obstinate as a +mule when you choose. I only hope you won't live to regret it. Good +night." + +This time she did not give her daughter the usual perfunctory and +barely tolerated kiss. At the bottom of her torpid, selfish soul she +was bitterly hurt and disappointed, as those people always are who +have hurt and disappointed others their whole lives, and only a +glimmer of hope that Beatrice's determination might have softened made +her hesitate at the door and glance back. Beatrice sat just as she had +sat the whole evening, in an attitude of moody thought, her fingers +still playing with the blood-red ruby, and Mrs. Cary went out, +slamming the door violently after her. + +In consequence of her long and futile appeal, Mrs. Cary had made +herself very late, and when she entered the large marquee which +Travers had had erected in his garden she found that all the guests +had arrived, including Rajah Nehal Singh himself. He stood facing the +entrance, and she felt, with a consoling sense of spiteful triumph, +how his glance hurried past her, seeking the figure which no doubt +above all else had tempted him thither. + +The senior lady, Mrs. Carmichael, was at his side, and as Mrs. Cary in +duty bound went up to pay her respects, she added satisfaction to +satisfaction by relating loudly that her daughter had a slight +headache which she had not thought it worth while to increase by a +form of entertainment which, between you and me, dear Mrs. Carmichael, +bad taste as it no doubt is, has no attractions for Beatrice. Now, +anything outdoor, and nothing will keep her from it! She turned to +Stafford, who was standing with Lois close at hand. "That reminds me +to tell you, Captain, how tremendously my daughter enjoyed her ride +with you yesterday. If you promise not to get conceited, I will tell +you what she said." + +"I promise!" he said, with a mock gravity which concealed a very real +amusement. + +"She said that in her opinion there wasn't a better horseman in Marut, +and that it was more pleasure to ride with you than any one else. Now, +are you keeping your promise?" She tapped him playfully on the arm. +Stafford bowed, looking what he felt, hot and uncomfortable. There are +some people who have the knack of making others ashamed of them and of +themselves. Mrs. Cary was just such a person. + +"It was very kind of Miss Cary to say so," Stafford said stiffly. "I +am afraid her praise is not justified." + +All this time Nehal Singh had been standing at Mrs. Cary's elbow, and +she had persistently ignored him. Deeper than her reverence for any +form of title was her wounded conviction that he had once laughed at +her and made her ridiculous, and to this injury was added the insult +that it came from a man whom, as an Englishwoman, she had the +privilege of "tolerating." A true parvenu, she had quickly learned to +suspect and despise the credentials of other intruders. + +He turned away from her and for the first time there was something +hesitating and troubled in his manner. Hitherto there had been songs +and music for his entertainment; it was now the turn of the Europeans +to follow their usual form of pleasure, yet they looked at one another +questioningly. It was the custom of the chief guest of the evening to +open the dancing, but this could hardly be expected of a native prince +who was as yet ignorant of such things and who must still be bound and +fettered by caste and religion. + +The pause of uncertainty lasted only a moment, but for those at least +whose eyes were open, it was a moment symbolical of a great +loneliness. In the midst of a gay and crowded world of people, linked +together by a common tie of blood, Nehal Singh stood isolated. He did +not know it, but it was that loneliness which cast a transitory chill +upon his enthusiasm and made him draw himself stiffly upright and face +the hundred questioning eyes with a new hauteur. An instant and it was +gone--that illuminating flash vanished, like a line drawn across a +quicksand, beneath the surface, never to be seen again, perhaps never +even to be remembered. + +Stafford led Lois out into the center, and one pair after another +followed his example. With Travers still at his side, the Rajah drew +back from the now crowded floor of dancers, and watched the scene with +glistening, eager eyes, happy at last to be in the midst of them--the +Great People of the world. It was a brilliant scene, for Travers had +spared nothing. The sides of the marquee banked with flowers, the +music, the brilliant dresses and uniforms, were all calculated to +impress a mind as yet curiously unspoiled by the pomp and magnificence +of the East. They impressed Nehal Singh deeply; his mind was filled +with a wonder and pleasure which did something toward soothing the +first bitter disappointment that the evening had brought him. + +But above all else, he wondered at himself and the rapidity of the +fate which in two short weeks had swept him out of his solitude into +the very vortex of a world unknown to him save through his books. He +asked himself what power it was that had flung aside caste, religion, +education, like a child's sandcastle before the onrush of a mighty +tide. Caste, religion, hatred of the foreigner, these things had been +sown deep into him, had been fostered and trained like precious +plants, and now they were dead at the first contact with European +ideas. They were gone as though they had never been. He had made no +resistance. He had drifted with the stream, regardless of the +entreating, threatening hands held out to him; yielding to a divine +power stronger than himself, stronger far than the implanted +principles of his life. + +His wonder, though he did not know it, was shared by the Englishman at +his side. Travers, accustomed as he was to look upon human theories +and principles as buyable and saleable appendages, could not suppress +a mild surprise at the rapidity with which this Hindu prince had +assimilated the ideas and mental attitude of another hemisphere. +Possibly it could be traced back to the parrot-like propensities of +all inferior races, but Travers, much as the solution appealed to him, +could not accept it. A parrot that assumes with apparent ease the ways +of his master within a fortnight, and thereby retains a striking +originality of his own, is not an ordinary parrot, and the conviction +was dawning on Travers that Nehal Singh was not an ordinary Hindu. The +unusual simplicity of his dress, which nevertheless concealed a costly +and refined taste, his firm though unpretentious bearing, the energy +with which he had overthrown what Travers guessed must have been a +fairly violent opposition on the part of his priestly advisers, +pointed to a decided, interesting and perhaps, under certain +circumstances, dangerous personality. The latter part of this +deduction had not as yet struck Travers in its full force, but so much +he at least felt that he proceeded to go warily, relying on his +diplomacy and still more on a weapon which was not the less effective +for being kept, as on this occasion, in the background. + +"Rajah Sahib, this is our second meeting," he said, after a few +minutes' study of the handsome absorbed face. "I have my answer +ready." + +Nehal Singh turned at once, as though he had been waiting for Travers +to broach the subject. + +"You have not forgotten, then?" + +"Forgotten? No; it lent itself too easily to my fancy and secret +ambition for me to forget. Doubtless, though, my answer will not +appeal to you, for it is the answer of a business man with a business +hobby of immense proportions and of the earth earthy." + +"Nevertheless, tell it to me," Nehal Singh said, looking about him as +though seeking a way out of the noise and confusion. "Whatever it is, +it will interest me so long as it has one object." + +"I venture to think I know that object," was Travers' mental comment +as he led the way into the second division of the marquee. + +The place had been laid out as a refreshment room, with small, +prettily decorated tables, and was for the moment empty, save for a +few busy native servants. An electric globe hung from the ceiling, and +immediately beneath its brilliant light Travers came to a standstill. +He put his hand in his pocket and drew out what seemed to be a +jewel-case, which he opened and handed to the Rajah. + +"Before I say anything further, I want you to look at that and give me +your opinion, Rajah Sahib," he said. "I will then proceed." + +Nehal Singh took the small white stone from the case and studied it +intently. He held it to the light, and it flashed back at him a +hundred brilliant colors. He smiled with the pleasure of a +connoisseur. + +"It is a diamond," he said, "a beautiful diamond. Though smaller, it +must surely equal the one I wear in my turban." + +"You confirm my opinion and the opinion of all experts," Travers +answered enthusiastically, "and I will confess to you that it is that +stone which has prolonged my stay indefinitely at Marut. About a year +ago a friend of mine, an engineer, who was engaged on some government +work at the river, had occasion to make excavations about a quarter of +a mile from the Bazaar. He happened to come across this stone, and +being something of an expert, he recognized it--and held his tongue. +When he came south again to Madras, he confided hit discovery to me, +and, impressed by his story, and the stone, I sent a mining engineer +to Marut to make secret investigations. I received his report six +months ago." + +Nehal Singh replaced the stone slowly in its case. + +"What did he say?" he asked. + +"He reported that there were sure and certain signs that the whole of +the Bazaar is built upon a diamond field of unusual proportions, +which, unlike other Indian mining enterprises, was likely to repay, +doubly repay, exploitation. I immediately came to Marut, and found +that the Bazaar was entirely your property, Rajah Sahib, and that you +were not likely to be influenced by any representations. Nevertheless +I remained, experimenting and investigating, above all hoping that +some chance would lead me in your way. Destiny, as you see, Rajah +Sahib, has spoken the approving word." + +Nehal Singh sighed as he handed the case back, and the sigh expressed +a. rather weary disappointment. + +"I have stones enough and wealth enough," he said. "I have no need of +more." + +"It was not of you I was thinking, Rajah Sahib," Travers returned. + +"Of whom, then?" + +"Of myself, to some extent, as becomes a business man, but also, and I +venture to assert principally, of the general welfare of your country +and people." + +"I fear I do not understand you." + +"And yet, Rajah Sahib, you have read, and have no doubt been able to +trace through history the source of prosperity and misfortune among +the nations. The curse of India is her overpopulation and the +inability of her people to extract from the earth sufficient means for +existence. If I may say so, the ordinary native is a dreamer who +prefers to starve on a treasure hoard rather than bestir himself to +unbury it. Lack of energy, lack of initiative, lack of opportunity, +lack also of guides have made your subjects suffering idlers whose +very existence is a curse to themselves and an unsolved problem for +others. Charity can not help them--that enervating poison has already +done enough mischief. You could fling away your whole fortune on your +state, and leave it with no improvement. The cure, if cure there be, +lies in the awakening of a sense of independence and ambition and +self-respect. Only work can do this, only work can transform them from +beggars into honorable, self-supporting members of the Empire; and the +crying misery of the present time calls upon you, Rajah Sahib, to +rouse them to their new task!" + +He had spoken with an enthusiasm which grew in measure as he saw its +effect upon his hearer. For though he did not immediately respond, +Nehal Singh's face had betrayed emotions which a natural dignity was +learning to hold back from impulsive expression. He answered at last +quietly, but with an irrepressible undercurrent of eagerness. + +"You speak convincingly," he said; "and though I fear you overrate the +hidden powers of activity in my people, you have made me still more +anxious for a direct answer to my question--what would you do in my +place?" + +"If I had the money and the power, I would sweep the Bazaar, with all +its dirt and disease, out of existence," Travers answered +energetically. "I would build up a new native quarter outside Marut, +and enforce order and cleanliness. Where the present Bazaar stands, I +would open out a mine, and with the help of European experts encourage +the natives into the subsequent employment which would stand open to +them. In a short time a mere military Station would become the center +of native industry and commercial prosperity." + +A faint skeptical smile played around Nehal Singh's mouth, but his +eyes were still profoundly grave. + +"If I know my people, I fear they will revolt against such changes," +he said. "You have described them as dreamers who prefer starvation to +effort--such they are." + +"Your influence would be irresistible, Rajah Sahib." + +Nehal Singh looked at Travers keenly. For the second time he had been +spoken of as a power. Was it perhaps true, as his father had said, and +this cool Englishman had said, that the thoughts and actions of more +than a million people lay at his command? If so, the twenty-five years +of his life had been wasted, and he stood far below the high standard +which had been set him. He had wandered aimlessly along a smooth path, +cut off from the world, plucking such fruits and flowers as offered +themselves within his reach, deaf to the cries of those to whom his +highest efforts should have been dedicated. He had dreamed where he +should have acted, slept where he should have watched and labored +unceasingly, yet it was not too late. He felt how his whole +dream-world shivered beneath the convulsions of his awakening +energies. The vague, futile, uneasy longings of his immaturity took +definite shape. His shackled abilities awaited only the signal to +throw off their fetters and in freedom to create good for the whole +world. + +"You have shown me possibilities of which I never dreamed," he said to +Travers. "I must speak to you again, and soon, for if things are as +you say, then time enough has been wasted. But not tonight. Tomorrow I +will see you--or no, not tomorrow--the day after. I must have time to +think." + +The waltz had died sentimentally into silence, and he made a gesture +indicating that he wished to return to the ball-room. Yet on the +threshold he hesitated and drew back. + +"The light and confusion trouble me," he said, passing his hand over +his eyes, "and my mind is full of new thoughts. If you will permit, I +will take my leave. My servants are waiting outside, and if you will +carry my thanks to my other hosts, I should prefer to go unnoticed." + +"It is as you wish, Rajah Sahib," Travers returned, "It is we who have +to thank you for partaking of our poor hospitality." + +"You have given me more than hospitality," Nehal Singh interposed. +Then he lifted his hand in salute. "In two days I shall expect you." + +"In two days." + +Travers watched the tall, white-clad figure pass out of the brightly +lighted tent into the darkness. From beginning to end, his plans had +been crowned with unhoped-for success, and yet he was puzzled. + +"I wonder why in two days?" he thought. "Why not tomorrow? I wonder if +by any chance--!" He broke off with a smothered laugh. "It is just +possible. I'll make sure and send her a line." + +Then, as the band began the first bars of a second waltz, he hurried +back into the crowded room in time to forestall Stafford at Lois' +side. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +WITHIN THE GATES + + +Nehal Singh's servants stood with the horses outside Travers' compound +and waited. Their master did not disturb them. Glad as he was to get +away from the crowd of strangers and the dazzling lights and colors, +it still pleased him to be within hearing of the music which, softened +by the distance, exercised a melancholy yet soothing influence upon +his disturbed mind. For the dreamy peace had gone for ever--as indeed +it must be when the soul of man is roughly shaken into living, +pulsating life, and he fevered with a hundred as yet disordered hopes +and ambitions. To be a benefactor to his people and to all mankind, to +be the first pioneer of his race in the search after civilization and +culture--these had been the dreams of his hitherto wasted life, only +he had never recognized them, never understood whither the restless +impulses were driving him. It had needed the pure soul of a good woman +to unlock the best from his own; it had needed the genius of a clear +brain to harness the untrained faculties to some definite aim. The +soul of a woman had come and had planted upon him the purity of her +high ideal; the genius had already shot its first illuminating ray +into his darkness. Henceforth the watchword for them all was to be +"Forward," and Nehal Singh, standing like a white ghost in the +deserted compound, shaken by the force of his own emotions, +intoxicated by his own happiness and the shining future which spread +itself before his eyes, sent up a prayer such as rarely ascends from +earth to Heaven. To whom? Not to Brahma. His mind had burst like a +raging tide over the flood-gates of caste and creed and embraced the +whole world and the one God who has no name, no creed, no dogma, but +whom in that moment he recognized in great thanksgiving as the +Universal Father. + +Thus far had Nehal Singh traveled in two short weeks--guided by a +woman who had no God and a man who had no God save his own ends. But +he did not know this. As he began to pace slowly backward and forward, +listening to the distant music, he thought of her, and measured +himself with her ideal in a humility which did not reject hope. One +day he would be able to stand before her and say, "Thus far have I +worked and striven for inner worth and for the good of my brothers. I +have kept myself pure and honest, I have cultivated in myself the best +I have, and have been inexorable against the evil. Thus much have I +attained." + +Further than that triumphant moment he did not think, but he thanked +God for the ideal which had been set him--the Great People's ideal of +a man--and for the afterward which he knew must come. + +Thus absorbed in his own reflections, he reached Travers' bungalow, +and a ray of light falling across his path, brought him sharply back +to the present reality. He looked up and saw that a table had been +pulled out on to the verandah, and that four officers sat round it, +playing cards by the light of a lamp. At Marut there was always a +heavy superfluity of men, and these four, doubtless weary of standing +uselessly about, had made good their escape to enjoy themselves in +their own way. Nehal Singh hesitated. He felt a strong desire to go up +and join them, to learn to know them outside the enervating, leveling +atmosphere of social intercourse where each is forced to keep his real +individuality hidden behind a wall of phrases. Now, no doubt, they +would show themselves openly to him as they were; they would admit him +into the circle of their intimate life, and teach him the secret of +the greatness which had carried their flag to the four corners of the +earth. Yet he hesitated to make his presence known. The study of the +four faces, unconscious of his scrutiny, absorbed him. + +The two elder men were known to him, although their names were +forgotten. Their fair hair, regular, somewhat cold, features led him +to suppose that they were brothers. The other two were considerably +younger--they seemed to Nehal Singh almost boys, though in all +probability they were his own age. One especially interested him. He +was a good-looking young fellow, with pleasant if somewhat effeminate +features and a healthy skin bronzed with the Indian sun. He sat +directly opposite where Nehal Singh stood in the shadow, and when he +shifted his cards, as he often did in a restless, uneasy way, he gave +the unseen watcher an opportunity to study every line of his set face. + +Nehal Singh wondered at his expression. The others were grave with the +gravity of indifference, but this boy had his teeth set, and something +in his eyes reminded Nehal Singh of a dog he had once seen confronted +suddenly with an infuriated rattle-snake. It was the expression of +hypnotized fear which held him back from intruding himself upon them, +and he was about to retrace his steps quietly when the man who was +seated next the balustrade turned and glanced so directly toward him +that Nehal Singh thought his presence was discovered. The officer's +next words showed, however, that his gaze had passed over Nehal +Singh's head to the brightly lighted marquee on the other side of the +compound. + +"I'm glad to be out of that crush," Captain Webb said, as he lazily +gathered up his cards. "Fearfully rotten show I call it--not a pretty +girl among the lot, and a heat enough to make the devil envious! I +can't think what induced our respected Napoleon to make such a fool of +himself." + +"Napoleon hasn't made a fool of himself, you can make yourself easy on +that score," Saunders retorted. "Napoleon knows on which side of the +bread his butter lies, even if you don't. When he dances attendance on +any one, you can take it on trust that the butter isn't far off. No, +no; I've a great reverence for Nappy's genius." + +"It's an infernally undignified proceeding, anyhow," Webb went on. +"I'm beginning to see that old Stafford wasn't so far wrong. What do +we want with the fellow? All this kowtowing will go to his head and +make him as 'uppish' as the rest of 'em. He's conceited enough, +already, aping us as though he had been at it all his life." + +"That's the mistake we English are always making," grumbled Saunders, +as he played out. "We are too familiar. We swallow anything for +diplomacy's sake, even if it hasn't got so much as a coating of +varnish. We pull these fellows up to our level and pamper them as +though they were our equals, and then when they find we won't go the +whole hog, they turn nasty and there's the devil to pay. In this case +I didn't mind so long as he kept his place, but then that's what they +never do. That's our rubber, I think. Shall we stop?" + +"I've had enough, anyhow," his vis-a-vis answered. "Add up the dern +total, will you, there's a good fellow. I must be getting home. +There's that boring parade to-morrow at five again, and I've got a +headache that will last me a week, thanks to Nappy's bad champagne. +Well, what's the damage?" + +The young fellow who had sat with his head bowed over his cards looked +up with a sickly smile. + +"Yes, what's the damage?" he said. "I can't be bothered--I've lost +count. You and I must have done pretty badly, Phipps." + +"I dare say we shall survive," his partner rejoined carelessly. "We +have lost five rubbers. How does that work out, Webb?" + +"I'll trouble you for a hundred each," Webb answered, after a minute's +calculation. "Quite a nice, profitable evening for us, eh, Saunders. +Thanks, awfully, old fellow." He gathered up the rupees which the +boy's partner had pushed toward him. The boy himself sat as though +frozen to stone. Only when Saunders gave him a friendly nudge, he +started and looked about him as though he had been awakened out of a +trance. + +"I'm awfully sorry," he stuttered; "you and Webb--would you mind +waiting till to-morrow? I'll raise it somehow--I haven't got so +much--" + +Phipps broke into a laugh. + +"You silly young duffer!" he said. "What have you been doing with your +pocket money, eh? Been buying too many sweeties?" + +The other two men roared, but the boy's features never relaxed. + +"I tell you I haven't got so much with me," he mumbled. "I'll bring it +to-morrow, I promise." + +Webb rose from his chair, stretching himself languidly. + +"All right," he agreed. "To-morrow will do. By Jove, what a gorgeous +night it is!" He leaned over the balustrade, lifting his aristocratic +face to the sky. "Saunders, you don't want to go to bed, you old +cormorant. Come on with me, and we'll spend the night hours worthily." + +"I'm game!" Saunders rejoined. "That is, if it's anything decent. I'm +not going to do any more tar-worshipping, that's certain." + +"Don't want you to. I'm going to dress up and have a run around the +Bazaar, and if you want a little excitement, you had better do +likewise. You see things you don't see in the daytime, I can tell you, +and some of the women aren't bad. Come on! We can run round to my +diggings and change. Are you coming, Phipps and Geoffries?" + +The weedy young man addressed as Phipps rose with alacrity. + +"Anything for a change," he said. "Wake up, Innocence!" He brought his +hand down with a friendly thump on Geoffries' shoulder, but the boy +shook his head. + +"No," he said, in the same rough, monotonous voice. "I'm done for +to-night. You fellows get on without me." + +"As you like. Good night." + +"Good night." + +The three men went into the bungalow. Gradually their voices died away +in the distance, but the boy never moved, never shifted his blank +stare from the cards in front of him. It was a curious tableau. In the +midst of the darkness it was as though a lime-light had been thrown on +to a theatrical representation of despair, while beneath, hidden by +the shadow, a lonely spectator, to whom the scene was a horrible +revelation, fought out a hard battle between indignation and +disbelief. + +Throughout the conversation Nehal Singh had stood rigid, his hand +clenched on the jeweled hilt of his sword, his eyes riveted on the +faces of the four men who were thus unconsciously drawing him into the +intimate circle of their life. Much that they said was incomprehensible +to him. The references to "Napoleon" and to the unknown individual +contemptuously dubbed "the fellow" were not clear, but they left him +a gnawing sense of insult and scorn which he could not conquer. The +subsequent chink of money changing hands had jarred upon his ears--the +final dispute concerning their further pleasure made him sick with +disgust. These "gentlemen" sought their amusement in a place where he +would have scorned to set his foot. + +This fact obliterated for a moment every other consideration. Was it +to these that his hero-worship was dedicated? Were these the men from +whom he was to learn greatness of thought, heroism of action, purity +in life, idealism--these blatant, coarse-worded, coarse-minded cynics +to whom duty was a "bore" and pleasure an excuse to plunge into the +lowest dregs of existence? In vain his young enthusiasm, his almost +passionate desire to honor greatness in others fought his contemptuous +conviction of their unworthiness. Gradually, it is true, he grew +calmer, and, like a climber who has been flung from a high peak, +gathered himself from his fall, ready to climb again. He told himself +that as an outsider he did not understand either the words or the +actions which he had heard and witnessed, that he judged them by the +narrow standard of a life spent cut off from the practical ways of the +world. He repeated to himself Beatrice Cary's assurance--"All men do +not carry their heart on their sleeve." He told himself that behind +the jarring flippancy there still could lurk a hidden depth and +greatness. Nevertheless the received impression was stronger than all +argument. The climber, apparently unhurt, had sustained a vital +injury. + +Nehal Singh was about to turn away, desirous only to be alone, when a +sound fell on his ears which sent a sudden sharp thrill through his +troubled heart. It was a groan, a single, half-smothered groan, +breaking through compressed lips by the very force of an overpowering +misery. Nehal looked back. The blank stare was gone, the boy lay with +his face buried in his arms. + +In that moment the dreamer in Nehal died, the man of instant, +impulsive action took his place. He hurried up the steps of the +verandah and laid his hand on the bowed shoulder. + +"You are in trouble," he said. "What is the matter?" + +As though he had been struck by a shock of electricity, Geoffries half +sprang to his feet, and then, as he saw the dark face so close to his +own, he sank back again, speechless and white to the lips. For a +moment the two men looked at each other in unbroken silence. + +"I am sorry I have startled you," Nehal said at length, "but I could +not see you in such distress. I do not know what it is, but if you +will confide in me, I may be able to help you." + +"Rajah Sahib," stammered the young fellow, in helpless confusion, "if +I had known you were there--" + +"You would not have revealed your trouble to me?" Nehal finished, with +a faint smile. "And that, I think, would have been a pity for us both. +If I can help you, perhaps you can help me." He paused and then added +slowly: "I have been standing watching you a long time." + +"A long time!" A curious fear crept over the boyish face. "You saw us +playing, then--and heard what we said?" + +"Yes." + +"And you wish to help me?" + +"If I can." + +Geoffries turned his head away, avoiding the direct gaze. + +"You are very kind, Rajah Sahib. I'm afraid I'm not to be helped." + +The sight of that awkward shame and misery drove all personal grief +from Nehal's mind. He drew forward a chair and seated himself opposite +his companion, clasping his sinewy, well-shaped hands on the table +before him. + +"Let us try and put all formalities aside," he said. "If you can treat +me as a friend, let nothing prevent you. We are strangers to each +other, but then the whole world is stranger to me. Yet I would be glad +to help and understand the world, as I would be glad to help and +understand you if you will let me." + +Geoffries looked shyly at this strange _deus ex machina_, troubled by +perplexing considerations. How much had the Rajah heard of the +previous conversation, how much had he understood? Above all, what +would his comrades say if they found him pouring out his heart to +"this fellow," who had been the constant butt for their arrogant +contempt? And yet, as often happens, amidst his many friends he was +intensely alone. There was no single one to whom he could turn with +the burden of his conscience, no one to whom he did not systematically +play himself off as something other than he was. And opposite he +looked into a face full of grave sympathy, not unshadowed with +personal sadness. Yet he hesitated, and Nehal Singh went on +thoughtfully: + +"There are some things I do not understand," he said. "You were +playing some game for money. I have heard of that before, but I do not +understand. Are you then, so poor?" + +Geoffries laughed miserably. + +"I am now," he said. + +"Then it _is_ money that is the trouble?" + +"It always is. At first one plays for the fun of the thing and +because--oh, well, one has to, don't you know. Afterward, one plays to +get it back." + +"But you have not got it back?" + +Geoffries shook his head. + +"I never do," he said. "I'm a rotter at bridge." + +"A hundred rupees!" Nehal went on reflectively. "That was the sum, I +think? It is very little--not enough to cause you any trouble." + +"Not by itself," Geoffries agreed, with a fresh collapse into his old +depression. "But it is the last straw. I'm cut pretty short by the +home people, who don't understand, and there are other things--polo +ponies, dinner-races, subscriptions--" + +"And the Bazaar." + +Geoffries caught his breath and glanced across at the stern, unhappy +face. He read there in an instant a pitying contempt which at first +seemed ridiculous, and then insolent, and then terrible. Boy as he +was, there flashed through his easy-going brain some vague unformed +recognition of the unshifting national responsibility which weighs +upon the shoulders of the greatest and the least. He understood, +though not clearly, that he and his three comrades had dragged +themselves and their race in the mud at the feet of a foreigner, and +with that shock of understanding came the desire to vindicate himself +and the uncounted millions who were linked to him. + +"You think badly of us, Rajah Sahib," he said fiercely. "Perhaps you +have a right to do so from what you have seen; but you have not seen +all--no, not nearly all. You've seen us in the soft days when we've +nothing to do but drill recruits and while away the time as best we +can. Think what the monotony means--day after day the same work, the +same faces. Who can blame us if we get slack and ready to do anything +for a change? I know some of us are rotters--especially here in Marut. +Most of us belong to the British Regiment, and are accustomed to +luxury and ease in the old country. I haven't got that excuse--I'm in +the Gurkhas--and what I do I do because I _am_ a rotter. But there are +men who are not. There are men, Rajah Sahib, right up there by the +northern provinces, who are made of steel and iron, real men, +heroes--" + +Nehal Singh leaned forward and caught his companion by the arm. + +"Heroes?" he said with passionate earnestness. "Heroes?" + +Geoffries nodded. That look of enthusiastic sympathy won his heart and +awoke his soldier's slumbering pride. + +"I'm no good at explaining," he said, "but I know of things that would +stir your blood. For a whole year--my first year--I was up north in a +mud fortress where there was only one other European officer. It was +Nicholson. You mayn't have heard of him--precious few people have--but +up there in that lonely, awful place, with wild hill-tribes about us +and a handful of sepoys for our protection, he was a god--yes, a god; +for there was not one of us that didn't worship him and honor him. We +would have followed him to the mouth of hell. He was young, only six +months a captain, and yet there was nothing he didn't seem to know, +nothing he couldn't do. Every day he was in the saddle, +reconnoitering, visiting the heads of the tribes, making peace, +distributing justice. Every day he went out with his life in his +hands, and every night he came back, quiet, unpretending, never +boasting, never complaining, and yet we knew that somewhere he had +risked himself to clear a stone out of our way, to win an enemy over +to our side, to confirm a friend in his friendship. Yes, he was a man; +and there are others like him. No one hears about them, but they don't +care. They go on giving their lives and energy to their work, and +never ask for thanks or reward. I--once hoped to be like that; but I +came to Marut--and then--" He stumbled and stopped short. "I'm a +ranting fool!" he went on angrily. "You won't understand, Rajah Sahib, +but I couldn't stand your thinking that they are all like me--" + +Nehal Singh rose to his feet. + +"Nicholson!" he repeated slowly, as though he had not heard. "I shall +remember that name. And there are more like him? That is well." Then +he laid his hand on the young officer's shoulder. "I am going to help +you," he said. "I am going to save you from whatever trouble you are +in, and then you must go back to the frontiers and become a man after +the ideal that has been set you. One day you can repay me." + +The storm of protest died on Geoffries' lips. Prejudices, the +ingrained arrogance of race which scorned to accept friendship at the +hands of an inferior, sank to ashes as his eyes met those of this +Hindu prince. + +"What have I done to deserve your kindness, Rajah Sahib?" he began +helplessly, but Nehal Singh cut him smilingly short. + +"You have saved me," he said. "To-night my faith hung in the balance. +You have given it back to me, and in my turn I will save you and give +you back what you have lost. And this shall be a bond between us. You +will hear from me to-morrow. Good night." + +"Good night, Rajah Sahib--and--thank you." He hesitated, and then went +on painfully: "You have shown me that we have behaved like cads. I--am +awfully sorry." + +He was not referring to the Bazaar, as Nehal supposed. + +"The past is over and done with," Nehal Singh answered, "but the +future is ours--and the common ideal which we must follow for the +common good." + +Hugh Geoffries stood a long time after the Rajah had left him, +absorbed in wondering speculation. Who was this strange man who a few +weeks ago had been but a shadow, and to-day stood in the midst of +them, sharing their life and yet curiously alone? He had met other +Indian rulers, but they had not been as this man. They had also joined +the European life, but they had come as strangers and had remained as +strangers. They had learned to assume an outward conformity which this +prince had not needed to learn. And yet he stood alone, even among his +own people alone. Wherein lay the link, wherein the barrier? Was it +caste, religion? + +Hugh Geoffries found no answer to these questions. He went home +sobered and thoughtful, dimly conscious that he had brushed past the +mystery of a great character, whom, in spite of all, he had been +forced to reverence. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WHITE HAND + + +It is an old truth that things have their true existence only in +ourselves. A picture is perfect, moderate, or indifferent, according +to our tastes; an event fortunate or unfortunate according to our +character. Thus life, though in reality no more than a pure stream of +colorless water, changes its hue the moment it is poured into the +waiting pitchers, and becomes turbid, or assumes some lovely color, or +retains its first crystal clearness, in measure that the earthenware +is of the best or poorest quality. + +In Travers' pitcher it had become kaleidoscopic, only saved from dire +confusion by one steady, consistent color, which tinged and killed by +its brilliancy the hundred other rainbow fragments. Such was life for +him--such at least it had become--a gay chaos in which the one +important thing was himself; a game, partly instructive, partly +amusing, with no rules save that the player is expected to win. Of +course, as in all matters, a certain order, or appearance of order, +had to be maintained; but Travers believed, and thought every one else +believed, that it was a mere "appearance," and that, as in the +childish game of "cheating," the card put on the table has not always +the face it is affirmed by the player to possess. Doubtless it is +sometimes an honest card--Travers himself played honest cards very +often--but that is part of the game, part of the cheating, one might +be tempted to say. + +A suspicious opponent becomes shy of accusing a player who has been +able to refute a previous accusation, and those people whose doubts +had been aroused by one of Travers' transactions, and had been rash +enough to conclude that all Travers' works were "shady," had been +badly burned for their presumption. After one indignant vindication of +his methods Travers had been allowed to go his way, smiling, +unperturbed, with a friendly twinkle in his eye for his detractors +which acknowledged a perfect understanding. On the whole he had been +successful. A Napoleon of finance, he never burned his bridges. If any +of his campaigns failed, as they sometimes did, he had always a safe +retreat left open; and if his bridge proved only strong enough to +carry himself over, and gave way under his flying followers--well, it +was a misfortune which could have been averted if every one had taken +as much care of himself as he had done. When well beyond pursuit, he +would hold out a helping hand to the survivors, and received therefor +as much gratitude as on the other occasions he received abuse. Which +filled him with good-natured amusement, the one being as undeserved as +the other. + +His last enterprise, the Marut Campaign, thanks to a happy +constellation of circumstances, promised an unusual degree of success, +and his enthusiasm on the subject was not the less real because he +kept hidden his usual reserve for unforeseen possibilities. According +to the Rajah's invitation, he repaired early on the second day after +their momentous conversation to the palace. He was received there by +an old servant, who told him that Nehal Singh had gone out riding +before sunrise, but was expected to return shortly. + +"The Rajah Sahib remembers my coming?" Travers asked. + +"Yes, Sahib. The Rajah Sahib commanded that the palace should be at +the Sahib's disposal while he waits." + +The idea suited Travers excellently. He shook himself free from the +obsequious native, who showed very clearly that he would have +preferred to have kept on a watchful attendance, and began a languid, +indifferent examination of the labyrinth-like passages and deserted +halls. But the languidness and indifference were only masks which he +chose to assume when too great interest would have thwarted his own +schemes. In reality there was not a jewel or ornament which he did not +notice and appraise at the correct value. The immensity of the +palace's dimensions and its intricate plan made it impossible to +obtain a complete survey in so short a time, but at the end of half an +hour Travers' original theory was confirmed. Here was a power of +wealth lying idle, waiting, as it seemed to his natural egoism, for +his hands to put it into action. + +In his imagination he saw the jeweled pillars dismantled and the +inlaid gold and silver changed into the hard money necessary for his +campaign--not without regret. The man of taste suffered not a little +at the changed picture, and since there was no immediate call upon his +activities, he allowed the man of taste to predominate over the +speculator. But the punishment for those who serve God and mammon is +inevitable. There comes the moment when the worshiper of mammon hears +the voice of God calling him, be it through a beautiful woman, a +beautiful poem, a beautiful sculpture, or a simple child, and the +soul, God-given, struggles against the bonds that have been laid upon +it. + +So it was with Travers as he stood there in the Throne Room, gazing +thoughtfully out over the gardens to the ornate towers of the temple. +He was fully conscious of the dual nature in him, and it gave him a +sort of painful pleasure to allow the idealistic side a moment's +supremacy, to imagine himself throwing up his plans, and leaving so +much loveliness and peace undisturbed. It was a mere game which he +played with his own emotions, for it was no longer in his power to +throw up anything upon which he had set his mind. Without knowing it, +he had become the slave of his own will, a headlong, ruthless will, +which saw nothing but the goal, and to whom the lives and happiness of +others were no more than obstacles to be thrown indifferently on one +side. Yet in this short interval, when that will lay inactively in +abeyance, he suffered. + +He had lost Lois, among other things, and the loss stung both sides of +him. He wanted her because he loved her, and because she had become +necessary to his plans. He had wanted her, and in spite of every +effort she had seemed to pass out of his reach. Seemed! As he stood +there with folded arms, watching the sunlight broaden over the +peaceful terraces, it pleased his fancy to imagine that the loss was +real and definite, and that he stood willingly on one side, resigning +himself to the decree that ordained her happiness. With a stabbing +pain came back the memory of their brief interview together. He had +talked of praying for her future. Had he been wholly sincere or, as +now, only so far as a man is who concentrates his temporary interest +upon some sport, only to forget it as soon as it is over? Possibly, +nay, certainly. He did not believe in himself--not, at least, in the +generous, self-sacrificing side. He called that sort of thing in other +people "pose" and in himself a necessary relaxation. For it was one of +his maxims that a man may act as heartlessly as he likes, but to be +successful he must never let himself grow heartless. From the moment +that he ceases to be capable of feeling, he loses touch with the +thoughts and sensibilities of others. And his power of feeling "with" +others was one of Travers' chief business assets. + +It is dangerous, however, to play with emotions that are never to be +allowed an active influence. They have a trick of growing by leaps and +bounds, and before the will has time to realize that an enemy is at +its gates, to fling their whole force against the citadel and +overwhelm the dazed defenses. How near Archibald Travers came that +morning to yielding to himself he never knew. Lois' happy, thankful +face hovered constantly before his eyes. He felt very tender toward +her. He felt that he should like to be able to think of her in the +keeping of a good man--like Stafford--who, if pig-headed and bigoted, +was yet calculated to stick to a woman and make her happy. Looking +straight at himself and his past, Travers could not be sure that he +would stick to any one. Also there was the Rajah, optimistic, and +trusting, so much so that it left an unpleasant taste in the mouth to +fool him. + +But above all else, there was Lois. Lois recurred to him constantly, +overshadowing every other consideration. He thought of her in all her +aspects: Lois, the enterprising, the energetic, plucky, daredevil +comrade; Lois, the ever-ready, untiring, uncomplaining partner in the +hunt, on the tennis-court, in the ball-room; Lois, the woman, with her +gentle charm, her tenderness, her frankness, her truth. He bit his +lip, turning away from the sunshine with knitted brows and fierce +eyes. No, it is no light matter to trifle with the heart, even if it +is only one's own. Nor is it wise for a man, set on a cool, +calculating task of self-advancement, to call up waters from his +hidden wells of tenderness, or to allow a nature strangely susceptible +(as even the worst natures are) to the appeal of the good and +beautiful to have full play, if only for a brief hour. Another five +minutes undisturbed in that splendid hall, with God's divine world +before him and the highest, purest art of man about him, and Travers +might never have waited to meet Nehal Singh. He might have gone +thence, and taken his schemes and plans and ambitions to another +sphere of activity. Five minutes! One second is enough to change a +dozen destinies. A straw divides an act of heroism from an act of +cowardice. + +Archibald Travers turned. He had heard no sound and yet he was certain +that he was no longer alone, that some one stood behind him and was +watching him. For a minute he remained motionless; the bright sunlight +had dazzled him and he could only see the shadows in which the back of +the chamber was enveloped. Yet the consciousness of another presence +continued, and when suddenly a shadow freed itself from the rest and +came toward him, he started less with surprise than with a reasonless, +nameless alarm. It was a woman's figure which came down toward the +golden patch of light in which he stood. He could not see her face for +it was completely shrouded in a long oriental veil, but the bowed +shoulders, the slow, unsteady step indicated an advanced age or an +overpowering physical weakness. She came on without hesitation, +passing so close to Travers that she brushed his arm, and reached the +hangings before the window. There she paused. Travers passed his hand +quickly before his eyes. Her movements had been so quiet, so blindly +indifferent to his presence that he could not for the moment free +himself from the fancy that he was in the power of an hallucination. +Then she lifted her hand, drawing the curtain back, and he uttered an +involuntary, half-smothered exclamation. The hand was thin, claw-like, +white as though no drop of blood flowed beneath the lifeless skin, and +on the fourth finger he saw a plain band of gold. + +"Who are you?" Travers demanded. The question had left his lips almost +without his knowledge. She turned and looked at him, and in spite of +the veil he felt the full intensity of a gaze which seemed to be +seeking his very soul. How long they stood there watching each other +in breathless silence Travers did not know. Nor did he know why this +strange, powerless figure filled him with a sickening repulsion and +held him paralyzed so that he could only wait in passive, motionless +expectation. Suddenly the hand sank to her side and he shook himself +as though he had been awakened from a nightmare. + +"Who are you?" he repeated firmly. + +"You are not the one I seek," she answered. "Why do you keep me from +him? He is mine--my very own. Where is he? I am always seeking for +him--but he is like the shadows--he vanishes--with the sunshine. In my +dreams I see him--" Her voice, thin and low-pitched, died into +silence. She seemed to have shrunk together; she swayed as though she +would have fallen, and Travers took an involuntary step toward her. + +"You speak English--perfect English," he said. "Who are you? Whom do +you seek? Perhaps I can help you--?" His words electrified her. She +caught his arm in a grip of iron and drew close to him so that her +hot, quickly drawn breath fanned his cheek. + +"Help me?" she whispered. "Who can help me? Don't you know that I am +dead?" + +Travers shuddered; he tried to free himself from the clutch of the +white, bloodless hand, but she clung to him desperately, despairingly, +while her voice rose in an agonized crescendo. + +"Don't you know that I am _dead?_" + +Footsteps came hurrying down the corridor. A sudden impulse, a +reawakening of the spirit of action and enterprise, which had carried +him through his life, bade him grasp her hand and drag from it the +loosely fitting ring. + +"I will see you again--dead or living, I will help you," he said. + +The next instant he drew quickly back. A white-bearded native servant +had entered and was moving swiftly with cat-like stealth toward the +veiled figure by the window. He was breathless, as though with hard +running, and seemed oblivious of Travers' presence until, with an +exclamation of relief, he had grasped the unresisting figure by the +wrist. Then he turned, salaaming profoundly. + +"May the Lord Sahib forgive his servant!" he said with a humility +which in Travers' ears rang curiously ironical. "The woman is possessed +of a devil who speaketh lies out of her mouth. It would cost thy +servant dear if she were found with the Lord Sahib." + +Travers assumed an air of indifference. + +"Who is she?" he asked carelessly. + +"My wife, Lord Sahib. The devil has possessed her these many years." + +Travers caught the flash of the cunning, suspicious eyes and knew that +the man had lied. But he said nothing, dismissing him and his captive +with a gesture. Only for an instant, governed by an irresistible +instinct, he glanced over his shoulder. He saw then that the woman's +head was turned toward him and that one white hand was raised as +though in mingled appeal and imperative command. Travers nodded almost +imperceptibly and she disappeared into the shadows of the corridor. + +For some minutes Travers remained motionless, then, as though nothing +unusual had happened, he resumed his critical survey of the precious +stones with which the pillars were adorned, apparently so absorbed +that he did not notice the sound of approaching footsteps. Only when +he was called by name did he look up with a start of pleased surprise. + +"Ah, Your Highness!" he exclaimed. + +The young prince stood in the curtained doorway, dressed as though he +had just returned from riding. He was dusty and travel-stained and, in +spite of his energetic, upright bearing, he looked exhausted. There +were heavy lines under the keen eyes, and Travers noticed for the +first time that his cheeks were slightly hollow, giving his whole +appearance an air of haggard weariness. He lifted his hand in return +to Travers' salute, and came forward with a welcoming smile. + +"My servants told me I should find you here," he said. "I hope the +time of waiting has not been too long?" + +"Indeed, no!" Travers returned, as he descended the throne steps. "I +have been amusing myself right royally. You have surely the most +perfect collection of stones in India." + +"They are well enough," Nehal answered, his smile deepening. "Have you +been calculating how many rupees they will bring in?" + +The remark, which at another time would have called a frank laugh of +agreement from Travers, caused him instead a faint feeling of +annoyance. + +"Perhaps I have," he said, not without a suggestion of bitterness, +"but I am still sufficiently alive to beauty to be able to appreciate +it apart from its intrinsic value." + +Nehal Singh motioned him to take his seat at the low table which a +servant had at that moment brought in. + +"Forgive me," he said. "I fear my remark hurt you. I thought as a +business man you had only one standpoint from which you judged--you +told me as much." + +"Yes, and I told you the truth," Travers said, after a moment, in +which he bent frowningly over his cup of coffee. "I am a business man, +Rajah, and for a business man who wants to make any sort of success of +his life there must be only one standpoint. If he has another side to +his nature, as I have--the purely artistic and emotional side--he must +crush it out of sight, if not out of existence, as I do." He looked up +with a sudden return of his old tranquil humor. "You must not count it +as anything if the beauty of these surroundings for a moment lifted +the unpractical side of me uppermost," he said, laughing. "It was +purely _pro tem.,_ and I am once more my normal, hard-headed self, at +your disposal, Rajah." + +Nehal Singh nodded absently. + +"I believe what you say is true," he said. "A man who goes out into +the world and enters into her conflicts must have only one side--the +strong, hard, practical side; otherwise he can do nothing, neither for +himself nor others. The idea came to me already the other night after +I left you." + +"Indeed?" Travers murmured. "What made you think of that, Rajah?" + +Nehal gave a gesture which seemed to put the question to one side. + +"Something I heard--saw," he said. "It does not matter. It made me +hesitate. That is all." + +"Hesitate?" + +"To enter into the conflict. I felt for the moment that I was not +fit--that it would overwhelm me. I had made a picture of the world, a +picture which after all might not be the true one. I did not believe +that I could bear the reality." + +He bent his head wearily on his hand, and there followed an instant's +silence in which Travers thoughtfully studied his companion. He was +wondering what cross-current of influence had flowed into the stream +on which he meant to sweep the prince toward his purpose. Any idea of +relinquishing his plans had evaporated; the very suggestion of another +influence having been sufficient to put him on his mettle and call to +life the full energy of his headstrong ambition. He had the tact, +however, to remain silent, and to leave Nehal's train of thought +uninterrupted. And this required considerable patience and +self-control, for the Rajah seemed to forget his existence, and sat +staring vacantly in front of him, his head still resting on his hand. + +"Yes," he went on suddenly, but without changing his position, "that +is what I felt two nights ago. The practical, hard side of me seemed +lacking. I felt that I was a dreamer, like the rest of my unfortunate +race, and that to enter into battle with the world, as you suggested, +could only bring misfortune. I did not realize then that, at whatever +cost, it was my duty." + +"Duty?" + +"Yes. A dreamer has no right to his dreams, be they ever so beautiful, +unless he changes them into substance. In my dreams I have loved the +world and my fellow-creatures. But what does that avail me if I do +nothing for the suffering and sorrow with which the world is filled? I +must go out and help. I must put my whole wealth and strength to the +task, even if I lose thereby my peace. I must 'sell all that I have.' +Is not that the advice your Great Teacher gave to the young man +seeking to do his duty?" + +Travers started, and then smiled. + +"Is there anything you do not know or have not read, Rajah?" he said, +with an amused admiration. + +"I have read a great deal," was the earnest answer, "but it seems to +me as though I had known nothing until yesterday. Yesterday, in an +hour, a new world was revealed to me." He leaned forward, extending +his hand. "I ask you as a man of honor," he said, "before you show me +your plans, before I definitely engage myself in this great work, tell +me, do you believe that it will be for my people, what you say? Will +it lift them from their misery; will it make them prosperous and +happy?" + +Travers took the hand in his own. For a moment he studied it intently, +curiously, as though it had been the sole topic of their conversation. +Then his eyes met those of the Rajah with unflinching calm and +decision. + +"As far as I can be sure of anything, it will do for your country all +that I have said," he answered. And therein he was sincere--as +sincere, that is, as a man can be whose retreat is already secured. + +With a sigh of relief Nehal Singh drew the table closer. + +"Show me your plans," he said. + +For three uninterrupted hours the two men sat over the papers which +Travers had brought. Now and again he lifted his head and glanced +toward the doorway through which the strange apparition had +disappeared, half expecting to see once more the white extended hand, +half believing that he had been the victim of a delusion, a fantasy +born of the mysterious veil with which the whole palace seemed +shrouded. Then he glanced at the ring which sparkled on his own +finger, and he knew that it was no delusion, but that a corner of the +veil lay perhaps within his grasp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE ROAD CLEAR + + +The English colony heard of the Rajah's project with mingled feelings +of amusement and anxiety. As Colonel Carmichael expressed it, it would +have been safer to have stirred up a hornet's nest than to attempt any +vital reform in the native quarters; and he was firmly convinced that +the inhabitants of the Bazaar would cling to their dirt and squalor +with the same tenacity with which they clung to their religion. When +the first batch of native workers, under the direction of a European +overseer, set out on the task of constructing new and sanitary +quarters half a mile outside Marut, he announced that it was no more +than the calm before the storm, and kept a weather eye open for +trouble. But, in spite of these gloomy prognostications, the work +proceeded calmly and steadily on its way. The new dwellings were well +constructed, broad, clean thoroughfares taking the place of the +narrow, dirty passages which had run like an unwholesome labyrinth +through the old Bazaar. Water in abundance was laid on from the river. +Natives of superior caste, who had proved their capacity for order, +were put in charge of the different blocks and made responsible for +their condition. Of more value than all this was the energy and +willingness with which the people entered into the project. More +workers offered themselves than were required, and could only be +comforted with the assurance that very soon a new enterprise would be +set on foot in which they, too, would find occupation. + +A month after the first stone had been laid, Stafford paid a visit of +inspection in company with the Rajah and Travers. On his way back he +passed the Carys' bungalow, and seeing Beatrice on the verandah, he +had ridden up, as he said, to make his salaams. Very little persuasion +tempted him into the cool, shady drawing-room. He knew that Lois would +be up at the club, and, _faute de mieux_, Beatrice's company was +something to be appreciated after a hot and exhausting afternoon. For +a rather curious friendship had sprung up between these two. They had +nothing in common. His stiffly honest and orthodox character was oil +to the water of her outspoken indifference to the usual codes and +morals of ordinary society. And yet he liked her, and, strangely +enough, he never found that her supercilious criticisms and daring +opinions jarred on him. Perhaps it was his honesty which recognized +the honesty in her, just as, on the reverse side, the sanctimonious +Philistinisms of Maud Berry left him glowing with irritation because +his instincts told him that they were not even sincere. + +On this particular afternoon he was more than usually glad to have a +few minutes' quiet chat with Beatrice. That which he had seen and +heard on his four hours' ride had stirred to life a sudden doubt in +himself and in his hitherto firmly rooted principles, and, like a +great many men, he felt that he could only regain a clear outlook by +an exchange of ideas with some second person. + +"You know my standpoint pretty well by now," he said, as, seated in a +comfortable lounge chair, he watched Beatrice busy over some patterns +which she had just received from London. "It isn't your standpoint, of +course, and no doubt you would be fully in your right to say, 'I told +you so,' when I confess that I am beginning to waver." + +"I never say, 'I told you so,'" she returned, smiling. "That is the +war-cry of those accustomed to few triumphs." + +"Not that by wavering I mean that I am coming round to your opinions," +he went on. "On the contrary, nothing on this earth will shake my +theory that a mingling of races is an impossibility. They must and +will, with few exceptions, remain separate to all eternity, and one or +the other must have the upper hand if there is to be any law or order. +No, it's not that. It's my self-satisfaction that is beginning to +waver." + +"You must be more explicit," Beatrice observed. + +"I mean, men like myself--in fact, most Englishmen--are pretty well +convinced, even when they have the rare tact of keeping it to +themselves, that they are the salt of the earth. They may be, as a +whole, but there are exceptions all round, which we are inclined to +overlook because of the foregone conclusion. It has struck me lately +that there are some of us--well, not up to the mark." + +"Has this revelation come to you by force of contrast?" she asked. +"Haven't you been out with the Rajah?" + +He looked at her with the pleasure of a man who has been saved the +bother of going into explanatory details. + +"Yes, I have," he admitted, "and you are not far wrong when you talk +about the force of contrast. You know what I thought of the Rajah. +There are any amount of good-looking native princes with nice surface +manners--that sort of thing wouldn't impress me. But this man has more +than good looks and manners. He is a born leader. You should have seen +him this afternoon. There wasn't a thing he overlooked or forgot. +Every detail was at his fingers' ends, and he has a fire, an energy, +an idealistic belief in himself and in the whole world which fairly +sweeps you off your feet. It did me. I believe it did the Colonel, and +I know it did the natives. The dust wasn't low enough for them. And it +wasn't face worship, either. It came straight from the heart; I could +see that they were ready to die for him on the spot, at his mere +word." + +"What a power!" Beatrice murmured. She had stopped turning over the +patterns and was leaning back in her chair, her eyes fixed +thoughtfully in front of her. + +"Yes, it is a power," he echoed emphatically, "and I wish to goodness +we had more men like him on our side. We English take things too +lightly--most of us. And in India it is not safe to take things +lightly." + +He saw that she was about to make some observation, but at that moment +Mrs. Cary entered. She had evidently been out in the garden, for she +had a bunch of freshly cut flowers in her hand and a girlish muslin +hat shaded the fat cheeks flushed with the unusual exertion. + +"Ah, there you are, Captain Stafford!" she said, extending her +disengaged hand. "Mr. Travers said he was sure you had dropped in, and +wouldn't believe it when I told him that I had heard and seen nothing +of you. There, come in, Mr. Travers. It's all right." + +She smiled at Stafford with a playful significance that seemed to +indicate an unspoken comprehension of the situation, but Stafford did +not smile back. Like a great many worthy and honest people, he was not +gifted with a sense of humor, and the ridiculous, especially if it +took a human form, was his abomination. Consequently he disliked Mrs. +Cary, though not for the reason which made her unpopular in other +quarters. + +Travers followed almost immediately on her invitation, like Stafford, +bearing the marks of a hard day's work on his unusually pale face. + +"I expect Stafford has told you what a time we've been having," he +said, in response to Beatrice's greeting. "It's no joke to have +aroused an energy like the Rajah's, and I can see myself worked to a +shadow. Please forgive my get-up, Miss Cary, but this isn't an +official call. I only wanted to fetch Stafford." + +"I'm afraid you can't," Mrs. Cary put in. "We have engaged the poor +exhausted man to tea, and you are strictly forbidden to worry him with +your tiresome business. You can stop, too, if you promise not to +bother." + +Travers, who had as a rule an equally amiable smile for every one, +remained unexpectedly serious. + +"I am awfully sorry," he said, hesitating. "Perhaps it would do +another time." + +"What is it about?" Stafford asked. "Will it take long?" + +"As far as I am concerned, only a few minutes." + +There was a significance in the tone of Travers' answer which passed +unnoticed. Stafford rose lazily to his feet. + +"Perhaps you'll give us the run of your garden for just so long, Mrs. +Cary?" he said. "I'm not going to let Travers cheat me out of my +promised cup of tea. Come on, my dear fellow. I'm ready for the +worst." + +The two men went down the verandah steps, and Mrs. Cary and her +daughter remained alone. Beatrice returned at once to her +contemplation of the fashion-plates, her attitude enforcing silence +upon the elder woman, who stood by the round polished table nervously +arranging the flowers. Evidently she had something to say, but for +once had not the courage to say it. At last, with one of those +determined gestures with which irresolute people strive to stiffen +their wavering wills, she pushed the flowers on one side, and came and +sat directly opposite Beatrice. + +"Have you got a few minutes to spare?" she asked. + +Beatrice looked up, and put the papers aside. + +"As many as you like." + +Mrs. Cary's eyes sank beneath the direct gaze, and she began to play +with the rings that adorned her fat fingers. + +"I'm afraid you'll be angry," she said. "If it wasn't for my duty as a +mother, I should let you go your own way--as it is, I must just risk +it." + +"There is no risk," Beatrice returned gravely. "Where duty is +concerned, I am all consideration." + +"It's about your intimacy with His Highness," Mrs. Cary went on. "I +can't help thinking it has gone too far." + +"In what way?" + +"You ride out with him every morning." + +"You said nothing a month ago--when I went out for the first time." + +"It was the first time. And I didn't know people would talk." + +"Do they talk?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Berry told me only this afternoon that she thought it most +_infra dig_. She told me as a friend--" + +Beatrice laughed. + +"Mrs. Berry as a friend is a new departure." + +"Never mind. There was something in what she said. She told me it +spoiled your chances--with others." + +"I dare say she told you that it is very immoral for me to ride out +with Captain Stafford?" + +Mrs. Cary threw up her head. + +"I don't take any notice of that sort of thing. That is only her +cattishness, because she wants Stafford for Maud." + +"You don't mind about Captain Stafford, then?" + +"Goodness, no! Why should I? A man wants to know a girl before--well, +before he asks her. I don't see anything in that. But this business +with the Rajah is quite different. Of course, I know you are only +amusing yourself, but still it lowers your value to be seen so much +with a colored man." + +"Why should you mind? Surely you can see for yourself that Captain +Stafford is to all intents and purposes engaged to Lois?" + +"Rubbish! She thinks so, but it's a lukewarm business which could +easily be brought to nothing--if you tried. And besides, I don't want +you talked about. We have been talked about quite enough." + +"Why should people talk?" exclaimed Beatrice, with a sudden change in +tone. "What harm do I do? What do they suppose goes on between us?" + +Mrs. Cary shrugged her shoulders. + +"I'm sure I don't know," she said indifferently. + +Beatrice sat back in her chair, for a moment silent. A faint smile +moved the corners of her fine mouth. + +"I fancy our conversation, if they heard it, would startle the +unbearable Marut scandal-mongers," she said. "What do you say to a +Bible-class on horseback?" + +Mrs. Cary's small round eyes opened wide. + +"A Bible-class?" she repeated suspiciously. + +Beatrice nodded. + +"Yes. I have been teaching him the rudiments of Christianity. It seems +you must have neglected my education in that respect, for I have had +to burn a good deal of midnight oil to keep pace with the demand upon +my knowledge. I tell him it as a story, and he reads it himself +afterward. We are halfway through St. John. What are you laughing at?" + +The tone of intense irritation pulled Mrs. Cary up short in the midst +of a loud fit of laughter. + +"I'm sorry, my dear," she apologized, "but you really must admit it's +rather funny." + +"What is rather funny?" + +"Oh, well, you, you know. Fancy you as a missionary! I must tell Mrs. +Berry. It will amuse her, and--" + +She stopped again, as though she had inadvertently trodden on the tail +of a scorpion. She had seen Beatrice angry, but not as now. There was +something not unlike desperation in the eyes that were suddenly turned +on her. + +"You won't tell Mrs. Berry, mother. You will never breathe a word to a +single soul of what I have told you. It was very absurd of me to say +anything--I don't know what made me. I might have known that you would +not understand--but sometimes I forget that 'mother' is not a synonym +for everything." + +Mrs. Cary smarted under what she felt to be an unjust and uncalled-for +attack. + +"I don't see what I have done now," she protested indignantly. "What +is there to understand that I haven't understood, pray?" + +Her daughter got up as though she could no longer bear to remain +still, and began to walk restlessly about the room. + +"Never mind," she said. "That doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is +that I will not have the Rajah made a butt for the Station's +witticisms. You can say what you like about me--I don't care in the +least--but you will leave him alone." + +"Dear me, what are you so annoyed about?" Mrs. Cary inquired, with +irritating solicitude. "How was I to know you were seriously +contemplating the Rajah's conversion? I'm sure it's very nice of you. +Child, don't pull all those roses to pieces!" + +Beatrice dropped the flowers impatiently. + +"It's more likely that he will convert me," she muttered, but the +remark fell on unheeding ears. + +"I wish you would let me tell Mrs. Berry about it," Mrs. Cary went on. +"It might make quite a nice impression, and stop her saying +disagreeable things. Of course, if your intimacy with His Highness was +due to your desire to bring him to a nice Christian state, it would be +quite excusable. I might even ask Mr. Berry for some of those tracts +he is always distributing among the natives." + +It was Beatrice's turn to laugh. Her laugh had a disagreeable ring. + +"For the Rajah? I wonder how he would reconcile them with all I have +been telling him about love, and pity, and tolerance? Besides, my dear +mother, diplomatist as you are, don't you see that it wouldn't have +the least effect? Do you think the most kindly thinking person in this +Station would believe for an instant that _I_ would ever convert +anyone? Of course I should be seen through at once. They would +say--and perfectly correctly, too--that I was just fooling the Rajah +for my own purposes." + +"What are your purposes?" Mrs. Cary demanded. + +Beatrice raised her eyebrows. + +"You knew them a month ago." + +"Oh, yes; then it was for Mr. Travers' sake. But now--" + +"Now things are the same as they were then. I--I can't leave off what +I have begun." + +She had gone over to the piano and, opening it, sat down and began to +play a few disjointed bars. Mrs. Cary, who watched the lovely face +with what is sometimes called a mother's pride, and which is sometimes +no more than the satisfaction of a merchant with salable goods, saw +something which made her sit bolt upright in her comfortable chair. A +tear rolled down the smooth cheek turned toward her--a single tear, +which splashed on the white hand resting on the keys. That was all, +but it was enough. With a jingle of gold bracelets and a rustle of +silk, Mrs. Cary struggled to her feet and came and stood by her +daughter, her heavy hand clasping her by the shoulder. + +"Beaty!" she said stupidly. "Are you--crying?" + +Beatrice turned on the music-stool and looked her mother calmly in the +face. There was not a trace of emotion in the clear, steady eyes. + +"I--crying?" she said. "What should have made you think that? Have you +ever seen me cry?" + +"No, never. I couldn't understand. You are all right?" + +"Perfectly all right, thank you. Hadn't you better see about the tea?" + +Mrs. Cary heaved a sigh of relief and satisfaction. + +"Of course. How thoughtful you can be, my dear! The gentlemen may be +back any moment." + +She sailed heavily across the room, on her way passing the glass doors +which opened on to the verandah. + +"Why!" she exclaimed, stopping short, "if that isn't Captain Stafford +mounting his horse! Look, Beaty! And he hasn't even come to say +good-by." + +Beatrice turned indifferently. + +"I expect he has some important business--" she began, and then, as +her eyes fell on the man outside swinging himself up into the saddle, +she stopped and rose abruptly to her feet. "I have never seen anyone +look like that before!" she said, under her breath. "He looks--awful." + +Mrs. Cary nodded. + +"As though he had seen a ghost," she supplemented unsteadily. "What +can have happened?" + +The horse's head was jerked around to the compound gates. Amidst a +clatter of hoofs and in a cloud of dust Stafford galloped out of +sight, not once turning to glance in their direction. The two women +stood and stared at each other, even Beatrice for the moment shaken +out of her usual self-control by what she had seen. They had no time +to make any further observations, for almost immediately Travers came +up the steps, his sun-helmet in his hand. Whatever had happened, he at +least seemed unmoved. The exceptional pallor of his face had given +place to the old healthy glow. + +"I have come to drink Stafford's share of the tea as well as my own," +he said cheerily. "You see, Mrs. Cary, in spite of your strict +injunctions, I have sent the poor fellow flying off on a fresh +business matter. He asked me to excuse him, as he was in a great +hurry." + +"So it seems!" Mrs. Cary observed, rather tartly. "He might at least +have stayed to say good-by." + +"Oh, well, you know what an impulsive creature he is," Travers +apologized. "Besides, I believe he means to drop in later on. Please +don't punish me, Mrs. Cary, for his delinquencies." + +The suggestion that Stafford might resume his interrupted visit later +mollified Mrs. Cary at once. + +"No, you shan't suffer," she assured him, with fat motherliness. "I +will go and tell the servants about tea at once." + +The minute she was out of the room Travers came over to Beatrice's +side. A slight change had taken place in his expression. It reminded +her involuntarily of that night in the dog-cart when for an instant +his passions had forced him to drop the mask. + +"You and I have every reason to congratulate each other," he said, in +a low voice. "We can now go ahead and win. The road is clear for us +both." + +"What do you mean--what have you done?" + +"Nothing," he answered, as Mrs. Cary reentered. "You will know in a +day or two. And then--well, the game will be in our hands, Miss Cary." + +Mrs. Cary, who had caught the last remark, looked quickly and +suspiciously from one to the other. + +"What's that you are talking about?" she demanded. "What game is in +your hands, Beaty?" + +Travers smiled frankly. + +"Miss Cary and I are working out a bridge problem," he explained. "We +have just discovered a solution to a difficulty. That's all." + +His smile deepened as he glanced across at Beatrice, but there was no +response on her grave face. She half turned away from him, and for the +first time he thought that the climate was telling on her. She looked +white and harassed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +IN WHICH MANY THINGS ARE BROKEN + + +"I can't think what is making Captain Stafford so late," Lois said to +Mrs. Carmichael, who was, as usual, knitting at some unrecognizable +garment destined for a far-off London slum. "I wonder if he has +forgotten that to-day is the tournament, and that he promised to fetch +me." + +"I hardly think he has forgotten the tournament," Travers remarked +carelessly. "He was speaking about it to Miss Cary this morning. I +expect he will be around soon--and if he fails, will I do instead?" + +He looked at her with such a pleasant frankness in his eyes that any +awkwardness she might have felt became impossible, and she could only +smile back at him, grateful for the unchanged friendship which he had +retained for her. + +"Of course you will do!" she said gaily. "But I must give him a few +minutes' grace. It has only just struck four o'clock." + +The Colonel looked around. He had come in five minutes before, hot and +tired from a long ride of inspection, and his family, knowing his +small peculiarities, had allowed him to get over his first exhaustion +undisturbed. + +"I shouldn't wait too long, little girl," he said, smiling kindly. "I +fancy Stafford is not at all up to the mark. I told him to take a day +off if he wanted it." + +"Why, when did you see him?" his wife asked. + +"This morning, of course, at parade. He struck me then as being rather +peculiar." + +"Ill?" Lois exclaimed with some alarm. She put her racquet on the +table and came and slipped her hand through the Colonel's arm. "You +don't think he is ill?" she asked earnestly. + +Colonel Carmichael shook his head. + +"No," he said, "not exactly ill." He laid his hand gently upon hers, +so that she could not draw it back. "Let us go outside and see if he +is coming," he went on. + +The old man--for sorrow and physical weakness had made him older than +his years--led the way on to the verandah, still holding Lois' hand in +his own. He could not have explained the indefinable force which drove +him out of his wife's presence. His ear shrank from her hard, +matter-of-fact voice and undisturbed optimism. She who had never had +any mood but the one energetic and untirable one, had no comprehension +for the changing shades of his temper--would, indeed, have rather +scorned the necessity of understanding them. She did not believe in +what she called "vapors," and when they ventured to cross her path she +swept them away again--or thought she did--with a none too sparing +brush. + +Unfortunately, there are some characters who can not overcome +depression, be it reasonable or unreasonable, simply because someone +else happens to be cheerful. The source of their melancholy lies too +deep, and the more hidden it is, the more inexplicable, the harder it +is to be overcome. It is as though a chord in their temperament is +linked to the future, and vibrates with painful presentiment before +that which is to come. Colonel Carmichael was one of these so-called +sensitive and moody people--quite unknown to himself. When the cloud +hung heavily over his head, he said it was his liver or the heat, and +took his cure in the form of solitude, thus escaping his wife's +pitiless condemnation. And on this afternoon, yielding to his +instinct, he sought to be alone with Lois. Lois never disturbed him or +jarred on his worn-out nerves. In spite of her energy and vigor, there +was a side of her nature which responded absolutely to his own, and +with her he could always be sure of a sympathetic silence, or, what +was still more, a gentle sadness which helped him more than any +overflow of strident high spirits. + +For some little time they stood together arm-in-arm, looking over the +garden. The excuse that they were watching for Stafford was no more +than an excuse, for from their position the road was completely hidden +by the high wall with which the whole compound was surrounded. Through +the foliage of the trees the outline of the old bungalow was faintly +visible, and thither their earnest contemplation was directed. For +both of them it was something more than a ruin, something more than a +relic out of the tragic past. It had become, above all for the +Colonel, a part of their lives, a piece of inanimate destiny to which +they felt themselves tied by all the bonds of possession. It was +theirs, and they in turn were possessed by the influence it exercised +over their lives. Their dear ones had died within its walls, and some +intuition, feeling blindly through the lightless passages of the +future, told them that its history was not yet ended. + +Colonel Carmichael bent down and looked into Lois' dark face. He had +grown to love her as his own child, and the desire to protect and +guard her from all misfortune was the one strong link that held him in +the world. Life as life had disappointed him, not because he had made +a failure out of it, but because success was not what he had supposed +it to be. It is very likely that his subsequent indifference to +existence, coupled with a far from robust constitution, would have +long since cut short his earthly career had it not been for Lois. She +held him fast. He flattered himself--as what loving soul does +not?--that he was necessary to her, that only his old hand could keep +her path clear from thorns and pitfalls. It was the last duty which +life had given him to perform, and he clung to it gratefully, never +realizing the pathetic truth--the saddest truth of all--that with all +our love, all our heartfelt devotion and self-sacrifice, we can no +more shield our dear ones from the hand of Fate than we can shield +ourselves, and that their salvation, if salvation there be for them, +can only come from their own strength. + +"What a grave face!" he said, with a lightness he was not feeling. +"Why so serious, dear? Has anything gone wrong?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, nothing whatever; on the contrary, I was thinking how grateful +for all my happiness I ought to feel--and do feel. Would you call me +an ungrateful, discontented person, Uncle?" + +"You? No! What makes you ask?" + +"I think I _am_ ungrateful, only you don't notice it, because I am not +more so than most, and perhaps less than a good many. Everybody has +flashes of self-revelation, don't you think, when one sees oneself and +the whole world in the true proportions and not as in every-day life. +I have just had such a revelation. I was feeling rather annoyed that +Captain Stafford should have forgotten the tournament and so make me +late; and then you said something about him--you spoke as though he +were ill--and the sickening thought flashed through my mind: suppose +you--or some one I loved--were taken from me--died? Then things +slipped into their right size. The petty woes and grievances which so +constantly irritate me became petty. I didn't care in the least about +the tennis--I thanked God for you and for your love." + +He saw that she was strangely moved. Her voice had a rough, dry sound +which he had not heard before, and her brows were knitted in a plucky +effort to keep back the tears that some inward pain had driven to her +eyes. + +"I didn't mean to frighten you, Lois," he said remorsefully. "How was +I to know that you were so easily alarmed?" + +She pressed his arm with warm affection. + +"There is nothing to be regretted," she said. "I ought to be glad that +a little thing can stir me--some people need catastrophe. If it had +not been for that sudden fear, I might have been bad-tempered and +spoiled the day for myself and every one." + +"And then you would have had to add it to the long list of days which +haunt us in later life," he added almost to himself, "--one of the +occasions for happiness which we have wilfully defaced. But there, I +think I hear some one coming. It is probably Stafford. Won't you run +and meet him?" + +She drew her hand quickly from his arm as though in answer to his +suggestion, then hesitated and shook her head. + +"I think I will wait here with you," she said, looking up at him. + +He nodded, and they stood side by side watching the pathway which led +around to the highroad beyond the compound. Colonel Carmichael was +smiling to himself. His wife's sure conviction that the hour of Lois' +union with Stafford was not far off had at last overcome his own +inexplicable doubts and objections, and he even considered the +possibility with a kind of satisfaction not unmingled with pain. "It +is well that she should have a good strong man to protect her," he +thought, conscious of age and growing infirmity. Then he looked down +at the happy face beside him and his smile lost all trace of +bitterness. "She loves him," was the concluding thought that flashed +through his mind as Stafford appeared around the corner. He meant to +say something in tender jest to her, but the words died on his lips +and he felt that the hand upon his arm had tightened. It was the only +sign which Lois made that a sudden change had come over her horizon. +She said nothing, but in the same moment that the Colonel's eyes +rested on her in half tender, half teasing query, she knew +instinctively that her happiness had shattered against a rock which, +hidden beneath a treacherously calm sea, had struck suddenly at the +very foundations of her world. + +Stafford was coming toward them slowly, his head bent. It was not his +face which, like a bitter frost, froze the overflow of her happy heart +to icy fear--for she could not see it. It was his attitude, his +movements, above all a terrible return of that presentiment which +already once that day had darkened her hopeful, cheery mood. Do what +she would, she could not move to meet him. She could only stand there, +clinging to her guardian's arm, the smile of welcome stiffening on her +pale lips. The Colonel was the first to speak. He held out his +disengaged hand with a frank movement of pleasure. + +"Glad to see you, Stafford," he said. "I was beginning to think the +fever had really got hold of you. What has caused the delay?" + +"Delay?" Stafford repeated dully, looking from one to the other. + +Travers, who had joined them a moment before, laughed with sincerity. + +"My good fellow--surely you have not forgotten?" he said. "You +promised to fetch Miss Caruthers for the tournament." + +"Ah, the tournament!" Stafford passed his hand quickly across his +forehead like a man who has been awakened roughly from a dream. "Of +course--the tournament. I am awfully sorry--" He turned to Lois with +a curious, awkward gesture. "--I'm afraid I can't come. I--I am not +very fit--in fact--" He hesitated and then stopped altogether, looking +past her with his brows knitted, his lips compressed as though in an +effort to keep back an exclamation of pain. + +"You look out of sorts," Travers agreed sympathetically. "Come and +take my chair. I'll look after Miss Caruthers--if she will let me." + +Lois shook her head. She was watching Stafford's ashy face and there +was a pity in her eyes which was deepening every instant to +tenderness. All suffering awoke in her an instant response, and this +man was dear to her--how dear she only realized now that the lines of +pain were on his forehead. + +"You are not to bother," she said gently, but with an unmistakable +decision. "I can manage quite well by myself. I shall start as soon as +I have given Captain Stafford a cup of tea. Sit down--it will do you +good." + +Stafford made an abrupt gesture of refusal. The movement was almost +violent, as though for an instant he had lost hold over himself. Then +he pulled himself together, looking her full and steadily in the face. + +"It is very good of you," he said, "but indeed I can not wait. I have +only come to break a piece of news to you. As--my best friends here, I +thought it only right that you should be told first." + +Travers rose with a mock alacrity. + +"Am I _de trop,_ or do I count among the 'best friends'?" he asked. + +Stafford nodded, but he did not meet the quizzical eyes which studied +his face. He was still looking at Lois. + +"Please remain," he said. "I wish you to know--and Miss Cary wishes +you to know also." + +"Miss Cary?" It was the Colonel's turn to speak. His veined hand +rested clenched on the verandah balustrade, and there was a sudden +sternness in his attitude and voice which filled the atmosphere with +an electric suspense. "What has Miss Cary to do with the matter?" + +"Everything. Miss Cary has consented to become my wife." + +[Illustration: "Miss Cary has consented to become my wife."] + +He was not looking at Lois now, but at the Colonel, and then afterward +at Travers. The latter had turned away and was gazing out over the +garden, his arms folded over his broad, powerful chest. His silence +was pointed, brutally significant. It threatened to force an +explanation which each present was ready to give his life to avoid. +The Colonel, Mrs. Carmichael, Stafford himself, each thought of Lois +in that brief silence, and each after his own character acted in +obedience to the instinctive desire to protect and uphold her. No one +looked at her. It was as though they were afraid to read a pitiful +self-betrayal on her young, mobile features, and with a fierce attempt +at composure the Colonel turned to Stafford. He meant to break the icy +threatening silence with the first commonplace which occurred to him, +and at the bottom of his heart he cursed Travers for his attitude of +unconcealed scorn. The next instant, the clumsy words which he had +gathered together in his rage and distress were checked by Lois +herself. She advanced to Stafford with outstretched hand, her face +grave but absolutely composed. + +"I congratulate you," she said. "I hope you will be very happy." + +That was all, but it sufficed to break the spell which held them +bound. The Colonel's commonplace passed unnoticed, and Mrs. Carmichael +murmured inaudibly. Only Travers remained silent, immovable. + +"Thank you," Stafford said. He had taken Lois' hand without hesitation +and the painful uneasiness which had at first marked his manner had +given place to a certain grave, decided dignity. "Thank you," he +repeated. "I hope we shall be happy. In the meantime, I must ask you +to keep our engagement private. My future wife wishes it for the +present--only you were to be told. So much I owed to you." + +"Yes, you owed us so much," the Colonel said, and there was a faint, +irrepressible irony in his tone. + +Stafford still held Lois' hand. He seemed to have forgotten that he +held it, and when she gently drew it away he started and a wave of +dark color mounted to his forehead. + +"I must go now," she said. "I shall be late for the tournament, and I +am to play with Captain Webb in the doubles. It would not be fair for +me to spoil everything. I--I am very glad and grateful that you told +us." + +Mrs. Carmichael gripped the arms of her chair. She saw more than her +husband saw, and there was something in that absolute self-possession +which frightened her. + +"Please go with Lois, Mr. Travers," she said sharply, recklessly. "I +do not want her to go that long way alone. I should worry the whole +evening." + +"May I, Miss Caruthers?" Travers had turned at last and was looking at +her. "You promised me that I might act as substitute. Do you +remember?" His tone was low, significant, full of a profound feeling +which he knew she would hear and understand. + +She took his extended arm and he felt that she clung to him for +support. + +"Thank you," she said under her breath. + +She went with him to the head of the verandah Steps, blindly obeying +his strong guidance. Then she saw the Colonel's face and suddenly she +laughed lightly, cheerfully, as though nothing in the world had +happened, and her eyes flashed with an unconquerable courage. + +"You are not to bother," she called back to him. "I shall play up and +win. I shall come back with all the prizes." + +He nodded. He understood and recognized the fighting spirit, and his +admiration kindled and mingled with a biting, cruel grief. He watched +her as she walked proudly erect at Travers' side, and his heart ached. +He understood what his wife had understood in the first moment and +what an hour before would have seemed impossible to them both; he +understood that they were helpless, that they could neither protect +nor comfort the brave young life which had been confided to their +care. Their love, great as it was, lay useless, and his last pride, +his last consolation was gone. He threw it to the wrecked lumber on +his life's road. He did not hear Stafford's farewell nor his wife's +icy response. He stood there with his hand clenched on the balustrade, +motionless and wordless, until the evening shadows had crept over the +silent garden. In that hour he knew himself to be an old and broken +man. + +Many miles away a dusty, haggard-faced rider urged his weary horse +over the great highroad. Danger lurked in every shadow, but he heeded +nothing--was scarcely conscious of what went on about him. He, too, +suffered, but no remorse mingled itself with his tight-lipped grief. +He had done the right and--according to his code and way of +thinking--the only merciful thing. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GREAT HEALER + + +"Yes, it's a fine building," Travers said, looking about him with an +expression of satisfaction. "The Rajah hasn't spared the paint in any +way. You see, it was all native work, so he killed two birds with one +stone--pleased us and gave the aborigines a job. He has gone quite mad +on reforms, poor fellow!" He laughed, not in the least contemptuously, +but with a faint pity. "And it's all your doing, Miss Beatrice," he +went on, turning to her with an elaborate bow. "You should be very +proud of your work." + +She looked him straight in the face. They were in the new ballroom of +the clubhouse which the Rajah of Marut had just opened. In the +adjacent tearoom she heard voices raised in gay discussion, but for +the moment they were quite alone. + +"You give me more credit in the matter than I deserve," she said. "Is +that generosity on your part, or--are you shirking your share of the +responsibility?" + +"I--shirk my share of the responsibility!" he exclaimed with a +good-tempered lifting of the eyebrows. "My dear lady, have you ever +known me to do such a thing?" + +She smiled rather sarcastically. + +"No, Mr. Travers, but I own that the idea does not seem to me wholly +impossible." + +"And even if you were right, why should I in this particular case +'shirk the responsibility,' as you put it? Surely it is not +responsibility we have incurred, but gratitude." + +She walked by his side over to the open windows which looked out on to +the as yet uncultivated and barren gardens. + +"The question is this," she said at last: "Does the superficial +gratitude of a crowd in any way compensate for the fact that, in order +to obtain it, a whole life's happiness has been incidentally +sacrificed?" + +"I know to whom you are alluding," he said, looking earnestly at her, +"although, as a matter of fact, the two things have nothing to do with +each other, except in your imagination. You mean Lois. Yes, of course +she has had a hard time. Who doesn't? But it's rubbish to talk of a +'life's happiness.' In the first place, there isn't such a +thing--nothing lasts so long as a lifetime, I assure you. In the second, +Lois has not sustained any real loss--not any which I can not make +good to her." + +"Do you imagine yourself so all-sufficient?" she asked. + +"I have confidence in my own powers," he admitted. "That is the first +condition of success. I believe that in a few hours I shall have Lois +on the road to recovery." + +"I do not in the least understand your methods," Beatrice said, "but +they have hitherto been so eminently successful that I suppose I ought +not to question them. I hope for the best. I really was rather sorry +for Lois--especially as she behaved so well." + +"Are you starting a conscience, Miss Beatrice?" Travers asked gaily. +"I rather suspect you. It would be such a typically feminine +proceeding." + +"There you are quite wrong," she answered, with a shade of annoyance +in her cool voice. "A conscience is an appendage which I discarded a +good many years ago as the luxury of respectability. As you know, and +as any woman at the Station would tell you, I am not respectable." + +"Whence this anxiety, then?" + +"It is purely a practical one. You talk of gratitude--do you really +think anyone is grateful to me for--this?" She waved her hand toward +the lofty, handsomely decorated room before her. "Why, I doubt if +anyone remembers that I had anything to do with it. But every one +suspects me of having bewitched Stafford into becoming a +deserter--thanks to Mrs. Carmichael's tongue--and every one feels a +just and holy indignation. I doubt whether they really care a rap +about poor Lois, and indeed I could accuse one or two of a certain +satisfaction; but the matter has given them a new whip with which to +beat us out of Marut." + +"But you will not be beaten out of Marut," Travers said, a smile +passing over his fresh face. "You have got a far too firm footing. The +woman who has bagged the finest catch in the Station has nothing more +to fear." + +"You mean Captain Stafford?" + +"I do." + +"Then, if you have no objection, we will leave that subject alone." + +"By all means, if you wish it," he agreed, somewhat taken aback. "But, +between friends, you know, one does not need to be so delicate." + +Her hands played idly with the handle of her silk parasol. + +"It is not a matter of delicacy," she said, "--at least, not +altogether. It would be rather silly to begin with that sort of thing +at my time of life, wouldn't it? But--you don't know for certain that +I shall marry Captain Stafford." + +"My dear lady! You have accepted him!" Travers exclaimed. + +She looked at him, her clear hazel eyes flashing with momentary fun. + +"It is very bad policy to rely upon what a woman says further back +than twenty-four hours," she warned him. + +For once he remained serious. + +"That may be true, but it is sometimes necessary to warn her that +first thoughts are best." + +"Now, what do you mean?" + +He folded his arms over his broad chest. + +"Miss Beatrice," he said, appearing to ignore her question, "do you +remember some time ago my telling you that we were like two partners +at a game of bridge?" + +"I remember very well." + +"Well, we are still partners, though the game is nearing its end. As a +rule I am for straight, aboveboard play, but there are moments when a +man is strongly tempted to cheat." + +"Haven't we cheated all through?" she inquired, with a one-sided +smile. + +"By no means. We have finessed, that's all. Just at present I feel +impelled to--well, give you a hint under the table." + +"Why?" + +"Miss Beatrice, more or less I stand in the position of a skilled and +rich player who has tempted a less wealthy partner into a doubtful +game. If my plans fail, I can look after myself; but I shouldn't like +to get you in a mess. If I give you a hint, will you keep counsel?" + +"I suppose I must." + +"Well, then, it's just this. Your mother has invested the greater part +of her money in the Marut Company. I did not want her to--I'll say +that for myself--but she has the speculating craze, and nothing would +stop her. Of course the mine will be an immense success--but if it +isn't, I should like to see you, as my partner, well out of reach of +the results." + +"Now I understand. Thank you." + +"As to the Rajah, I think you had better let him run before things go +too far. I'm afraid he has got one or two silly ideas in his head. You +had better make your engagement public." + +"Thank you." She looked perfectly calm and collected. The red had died +out of her cheeks and left them their pale rose, which not even the +hottest Indian sun had been able to wither. Still, her tone had +something in it which startled even the self-possessed Travers. + +"By Jove!" he began, "are you angry--?" + +She passed over the question before he had time to finish it. + +"I am going into the garden to look for my mother," she said. "The +band is just beginning. _Au revoir_." + +Travers watched her curiously and admiringly as she walked across the +parquetry flooring to the door. It requires a good deal of +self-possession and carriage to walk gracefully under the scrutiny of +critical eyes, and this self-possession and carriage were the final +clauses to Beatrice's claim to physical perfection. There was a +natural dignity in her bearing and an absolute balance in all her +movements which Travers had never seen before combined in one woman. +At first sight an observer called her pretty, and then, as one by one +the perfect details unfolded themselves to a closer criticism, +beautiful. He was never disappointed, and even the most carping and +envious of Marut's female contingent had failed to find her vulnerable +point. So they had turned with more success to her character, and +proceeded there with their work of destruction. Her beauty they left +unquestioned. + +Travers often asked himself--and asked himself especially on this +afternoon--why, apart from practical considerations, he had not fallen +in love with her instead of Lois. He liked beautiful women, as he +liked all beautiful things, and Lois had no real pretensions to +beauty. Was it, perhaps, as he had said, that her honesty and genuine +heart-goodness had drawn him to her? Of course he had pretended that +it was so. He knew that, in company with all true women, she was +susceptible to that form of flattery where other compliments merely +disgusted, and he had made good use of his knowledge. He had often +laughed to himself at the feminine craze for salvaging lost souls, but +he had never taken it seriously, not even with Lois. Was there any +truth in the assertions that he had made to her, more than he knew? +The idea amused him immensely, and also drew his attention back to his +previous conversation with Beatrice Cary. He shook his head +whimsically in the direction she had taken. + +"I don't care what you say," he thought, "you are getting a +conscience. Now, I wonder whom you caught it from? Not from me, I'll +be bound." + +He laughed out loud, and shaking himself up from his half-lounging +attitude against the window casement, he proceeded to follow in +Beatrice's footsteps. At the door he was met by three men--the Rajah, +Stafford, and a new-comer whom he did not recognize and for the moment +scarcely noticed. He had a quick and sympathetic intelligence, which +was trained to read straight through men's eyes into their minds, and +in an instant he had classed and compared, not without a pang of real +if very objective regret, the two familiar faces and their +expressions. Gloom and sunshine jostled each other. + +On the one hand, Nehal Singh had never looked better than he did then. +The old film of dreamy contemplation was gone from his eyes, which +flashed with energy and purpose; the face was thinner and in places +lined; the figure, always upright, had become more muscular. From a +merely handsome man he had developed into a striking personality, +released from the bonds of an enforced inactivity and an objectless +destiny. By just so much Stafford had altered for the worse. His +character was too strong and rigid to allow an absolute breakdown. He +still carried himself well; to all intents and purposes, as far as his +duty was concerned, he was as hard-working and conscientious as he had +ever been, but no strength of will had been able to hinder the change +in his face and expression. He looked years older. There was grey +mixed with the dark brown of his hair; the eyes were hollow and +lightless; the cheeks had painfully sunken in. A friend returning +after a two months' absence would have said that he had gone through a +sharp and very dangerous illness; but Marut, who knew that he had not +been ill, wondered exceedingly. + +They wondered all the more because, though nothing was known for +certain, they suspected a rupture in the relations between Stafford +and the Carmichael family, and Beatrice was recognized as the +undoubtable cause. Her engagement with Stafford had been kept secret, +but the Marut world had its ideas and was puzzled to distraction as to +why he seemed to shun her society and had become morose and taciturn. +"It is his conscience," said the busybodies, whose inexperience on the +subject of conscience excused the mistaken diagnosis. Travers knew +better. He felt no sort of regret, but he was rather sorry for +Stafford and sometimes Stafford felt his unspoken sympathy and shrank +from it. + +"We have been looking all over the place for you, Travers," he said, +after the first greeting had been exchanged. "Nicholson arrived here +last night, and he has already been on a tour of inspection. He wants +to know the man who has built the modern settlement." + +Travers turned to the new-comer and held out his hand. + +"Glad to meet you," he said cordially; "but please don't run off with +the idea that I have anything to do with the innovations. I am no more +than the artisan. The Rajah is the moving spirit." + +Nehal Singh's expression protested. + +"If money is the moving power, you may be right," he said; "but if, as I +think, the conception is everything, then the credit is wholly yours." + +"You have been the energizing spirit," Travers retorted. + +"Well, we will divide the honors. And, after all, it does not matter +in the least who has done it, so long as it is done." + +"Well spoken!" Adam Nicholson said. "If that's your principle, I'm not +surprised at the marvels you have brought about." + +Nehal Singh turned to the speaker. + +"You think the changes are for the good?" he asked eagerly. + +"Without a doubt. The new Bazaar is a model for Indian civilization." + +"And the mine?" + +"Excuse me--is that part of the reform? I understood that it was +merely a speculation." + +The prince's brows contracted with surprise. + +"It is part of the reform. I wish to give my people a settled +industry. There is no idea of--personal gain." + +"I see. Well, I don't know about that yet. I haven't looked into the +matter; I must to-morrow--that is, no, I won't. You know,"--with a +movement of good-tempered impatience--"I've been sent here on a +rest-cure, and I'm not to bother about anything. Please remind me now +and again. I always forget." + +Stafford smiled grimly. + +"You don't look as though you knew what rest is," he said. + +Travers, who stood a little on one side, felt there was some truth in +the criticism. During the brief conversation between Nehal Singh and +Nicholson he had had ample opportunity to study the two men and to +glean the esthetic pleasure which all beauty gave him. Both +represented the best type of their respective races, and, curiously +enough, this perfection seemed to obliterate the differences. Travers +could not help thinking, as he glanced from one to the other, that, +had it not been for the dress, it would have been difficult to decide +who was the native prince and who the officer. Nehal Singh's high +forehead and clean-cut features might have been those of a European, +and his complexion, if anything, was fairer than that of the sunburnt +man opposite him. It was doubtful, too, which of the two faces was the +more striking. Travers felt himself irresistibly drawn to the +new-comer. The bold, aquiline nose, the determined mouth under the +close-cut moustache, the broad forehead with the white line where the +military helmet had protected from the sun, the black hair prematurely +sprinkled with grey--these, together with the well-built figure, made +him seem worthy of the record of heroism and ability with which his +name was associated. + +"If you want a rest, your only hope is with the ladies," Travers said, +as he turned with Nicholson toward the garden. "They are the only +people who haven't got mines and industrial progress on the brain. Are +you prepared to be lionized, by the way? We are all so heartily sick +of one another that a new arrival is bound to be pursued to death." + +"I don't care so long as I get in some decent tennis and polo," +Nicholson answered cheerfully. "Not that I've starved in that respect. +I got my men up at the Fort into splendid form. We made our net and +racquets ourselves, and rolled out some sort of a court. It was +immense fun, though the racquets weren't all you might have wished, +and the court had a most disconcerting surface." He laughed heartily +at his recollections, and Travers laughed with him. + +"No wonder the men worshiped you," he said, and then saw that the +remark had been a mistake. + +"They didn't worship me," was the sharp answer. "That sort of thing is +all rubbish. They respected me, and I respected them--that's all." + +"It seems to me a good deal," Travers observed. + +"It is a good deal, in one sense," Nicholson returned. "It is the only +condition under which native and European can work in unity." + +Nehal Singh and Stafford were walking a little ahead, and Travers +thought he saw the Rajah hesitate as though about to join the +conversation. Almost immediately, however, Nicholson changed the +subject. + +"I've had no time to look up my old friends," he said to Travers. +"Perhaps you could tell me something about them. Colonel Carmichael +is, of course, still here. I had a few words with him this afternoon. +Do you know if that little girl, Lois Caruthers, is with him, or has +she gone back to England?" + +"No, she is still in Marut." + +"That's good. When I was a young lieutenant, she and I were great +pals. Of course she is grown-up now, but I always think of her as my +wild little comrade who led me into the most hairbreadth adventures." +He smiled to himself, and Travers, looking sharply at him, felt that +there was a wealth of memories behind the pleasant grey eyes. + +"Things change," he said sententiously. + +"Do they? Well, perhaps; though the change, I find, lies usually in +oneself, and I never change. Is she married?" + +"No--not yet." + +He saw that Nicholson was on the point of answering, asking another +question, and he went on hurriedly: + +"She is not here this afternoon. If you are anxious to meet her, how +would it be if I ran over to the Colonel's bungalow and persuaded her +to come? I dare say I could manage it." + +"Excellent, if you wouldn't mind. Or I might go myself. We shall have +any amount to say to each other." + +There was a scarcely noticeable pause before Travers answered: + +"I think it would be better if I went. I know a short cut, and could +get there and back with Miss Caruthers in half an hour. Would you mind +telling the Colonel what I have done?" + +"Certainly. In the meantime, I'll have a talk with the Rajah about +this mining business. He seems to have an exceptional individuality, +and--" + +"Remember the doctor!" Travers warned him. + +"Oh, yes, thanks! I forgot again. By the way, when you see Lois--Miss +Caruthers--tell her for me, the cathedral still lacks the chief spire, +but otherwise is getting on very nicely." + +"I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"No, but I dare say she will. Good-by." + +Travers borrowed a buggy from one of the other guests, and started +impetuously on his self-imposed errand. He had lied about the short +cut, and about the half-hour. He would have lied up to the hilt if it +had been required of him, because his instinct--that instinct which +had saved him untold times from blundering--warned him that danger was +at hand. It told him that it was now or never, and the realization +filled him with a reckless resolve which was ready to ride down all +principles and honor. He was still sufficiently master of himself to +hide the storm; it showed itself only in so far that, when he stood +before Lois, he seemed more moved and agitated than she had ever seen +him. She had just returned from a long and lonely ride, and was about +to retire to change her white habit, when he came upon her in the +entrance hall. Had he not found her himself, she would have refused to +see him, for she dreaded his message. She felt that he had come to +urge her attendance at the opening ceremony, and old fondness for +social pleasures of that kind had given place to dislike. It was the +only change that sorrow had wrought upon her character. Otherwise she +was the same as she had always been. For one week she had suffered +something like despair, and then the brave spirit in her despised +itself for its weakness, and set to work on the rebuilding of her life +on new foundations. To all appearances, she had succeeded admirably in +her task. There was no drooping hopelessness in her attitude toward +the world. And if beneath the surface there lay hidden the dangerous +flaw of purposelessness, no one knew--at least, so she believed. + +To her surprise, Travers made no mention of the subject she dreaded. +He took her hand in his, and led her into the shady drawing-room. She +made no attempt to protest, nor did she offer him any formal greeting. +She was oppressed and hypnotized by the conviction that a crisis was +about to break over her head which no power of hers could avert. He +did not let her hand go. He still held it between his own as they +stood opposite each other, and she felt that he was trembling. + +"Lois," he said, "Lois, don't think me mad. There are limits to a +man's endurance. I have held out so long that I can hold out no +longer. I have come because I must speak to you alone. Will you let +me?" + +She knew now what was coming, and she made a gentle effort to free +herself. + +"Mr. Travers, will you think me very conceited if I say that I know +what you have come to tell me?" she said, with an earnestness which +did not conceal her anxiety. "Will you forgive me if I ask you not to +tell me? It would be hard to have to spoil our friendship. It has been +a great deal to me." + +"Does that mean that you don't care?" + +"I did not say that. As proof that I do care I will give you my whole +confidence, I will be absolutely honest with you. Will you think me +very low-spirited if I tell you that a man still holds a place in my +life--a man who cares nothing for me? I ought to forget him--my pride +should make it possible, and yet I can not, and somehow I do not think +I ever shall." + +"Isn't that rather a hard punishment for him, Lois?" + +"For him?" + +"I, too, will be honest. I know whom you mean and I ask you--does +Stafford look a happy man? He looks like a man weighed down by a heavy +burden. I believe that burden is the knowledge that he has sinned +against you, that in his heedlessness, folly, what you will, he has +spoiled your life. Until he feels that you have regained your +happiness he will never be able to find his own." + +A spasm of pain passed over her face. + +"You mean--I stand in his way?" + +"I believe so. And I am sure of one thing--for your own sake as well +as for his, you must shake off your old affection for him, and how +better than through the cultivation of a new and stronger love? My +dear little girl, you couldn't pretend that all the happy hours we +have spent together count for nothing. You say my friendship has been +a great deal to you. What else is friendship but the sanest, most +lasting, and noblest part of love? What surer basis was ever the union +between a man and woman built upon? I know what you would say--it has +come too soon. You have only just pulled yourself up from a hard blow, +and you feel that you must have time to right yourself and all the +hopes that were bowled over with you. My dear, I understand that--God +knows, I understand too well--but have pity on me. Think how I have +waited, and how time has drifted on and on for me. Must I wait the +best years of my life? Won't you let me add the whole of my love to +time's cure for healing the old wound?" + +There was no pretense in his pleading, no pretense in the passion with +which his voice shook. And because it was genuine, it carried her +forward on the wave of powerful feeling toward his will. + +"I do care for you," she said, with a strong effort to appear calm. +"As a friend you are very dear to me, and you are no doubt right to +class friendship so highly. But I can not pretend that I love you. I +do not love you. And a woman should love the man she marries." + +He let her hands fall. + +"And so you are going to let your life remain empty, little woman?" + +"Empty?" she echoed. + +"Yes, empty. Will it prove the strength of my love for you if I tell +you that it has given me the power to look straight into your heart? +How many times have I read there the thought: 'Of what use is it all? +My life has no object, no end or aim. No one needs me now.' Lois, one +man needs you--needs you perhaps as much as he loves you. That man is +myself. If you say you have done nothing in the world, look into the +soul that I open out to you and to you alone. There is not a generous, +honest deed or thought which has not its origin in you. For your sake +I have beaten down the devil under my feet--I have tried to live as I +meant to live before the time when I, too, found that there was no +object in it all, that no one cared whether I was good or bad. This +much have you changed in me--it has been your unconscious work. Are +you going to leave the task which surely God has left for you to +accomplish?" + +He had touched the chord in her which could only give one response, +and he knew it. There lay the canker which made her energy and +cheerfulness a mere task to hide the real disease. Half unconsciously +she had loved Stafford and half unconsciously she had built her life +upon him. When he had been taken from her, the foundations had been +shaken, and she found herself crippled by a horrible sense of +emptiness and purposelessness. In England she would have flung herself +into some intellectual pursuit, as other women do who have suffered +heart shipwreck. But she was in India, and in India intellectual food +is scarce. Pleasure is the one serious occupation for the womenkind; +and though pleasure may be a good narcotic for some, for Lois it was +worse than useless. She needed one being for whom she could bring +sacrifices and endless patient devotion, and there was no one. Her two +guardians lived for her, and that was not what she hungered after with +all the thwarted energy of her soul. She wanted to work for somebody, +not to be worked for--and no one needed her, no one except this man. She +looked at him. She saw that her long silence was torture to him; she saw +that he was suffering genuinely, and her heart went out to him in pity. +Pity is a woman's invariable undoing. How many women--sometimes happy, +sometimes unhappy, according to the rulings of an inscrutable Fate--have +married, partly out of flattered vanity, but chiefly because they are +good-hearted, and labor under the mistaken conviction that a man's +happiness rests on their decision? And in this particular instance +Lois was honestly attached to Travers. She felt that to lose him would +be to lose a friend whom she could ill spare. Yet a blind instinct forced +her to a last resistance. + +"I do not love you," she repeated, almost desperately. + +"I do not ask for that now, because I know that it will come. I ask +you to be my lifelong friend and helper. Remember your promise, Lois! +Has not the time come when we need each other--when no one else is +left?" He took her hand again. He felt that she was won. + +"If you need me--I care for you enough to try and love you as my +husband." + +"Thank you, Lois!" + +His inborn tact and knowledge of the human character stood him again +in good stead. He made no violent demonstration of his triumph and +happiness, thus breaking roughly into a region which as yet for him +was dangerous ground. As he had done months before, when the road to +success had seemed blocked, he lifted her hand reverently and +gratefully to his lips. + +Thus it was that Captain Adam Nicholson waited patiently but in vain +for Travers' return with his old playfellow. As one by one the Rajah's +guests took their departure in order to prepare for the evening's +festivities, he gave up his last hope. + +"I suppose it was too late," he thought ruefully. "Or--she was so +young, and it's many years ago--maybe she has forgotten." + +It was not till long afterward that he knew how unconsciously his +first supposition had brushed past the truth. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FATE + + +Travers had correctly described the new Marut club-house as a fine +building on which the paint had been laid with a generous hand. The +original modest design had been rejected as unworthy, and Nehal Singh +had ordered the erection of a miniature copy of his own palace, the +ball-room being line for line a reproduction of the Great Hall, save +that the decorations, which in the palace were inimitable, had been +carried out with dignified simplicity, and that some necessary +modernization had been added. Gold and white predominated, where in +the original, precious stones glistened; the brackets for the torches +were transformed into small artistic lamps which had been ordered from +Madras; and from the ceiling a heavy chandelier added brilliancy to +the shaded light. The central floor had been left free for dancing, +but the slender pillars ranged on either side formed separate little +alcoves banked with flowers and plants. It was in one of these refuges +from the whirr and confusion of gay dresses and white uniforms that +Stafford took up his watch. He had arrived late, thanks to Travers, +who had detained him at his bungalow in a long and earnest +conversation. The two men had subsequently driven together to the +club, and had further been hindered on their way by a curious +accident. Just where the road passed an unprotected ravine, a native +had sprung out from some bushes and, having waved his arms wildly, +disappeared. The horse had immediately taken fright, and for a moment +the car and its occupants stood in danger of being flung headlong down +the precipice. Stafford's strength and nerve had saved the situation, +but the incident had effectually put an end to their conversation, and +now for the first time Stafford found himself alone and at liberty to +bring some order into his troubled thoughts. + +He was not, as Marut supposed, a conscience-stricken man, but a man +with a diseased conscience, his sense of duty and responsibility +developed to abnormities which left him no clear judgment. He had +broken with Lois because he loved her and because there seemed no +other way of shielding her from the most terrible blow that could fall +upon any human life--judging by the only standard he knew, which was +his own. He had asked Beatrice to be his wife because it cut the last +link and because he knew--Travers had told him--that the Station had +long since coupled their names together in a way that cast a deeper +shadow about Beatrice's reputation. + +"It's no one's fault, old fellow," Travers had said sympathetically. +"You meant no harm, but you were often with her, and that old fiend, +Mrs. Cary, has told every one that you 'were as good as--' And then +you know what the people are here. When they see that things are at an +end between you and Lois they will dig their knives deeper into Miss +Cary, without giving her the credit of having won her game. She is +fairly at every one's mercy here. I am sorry for Lois, but the other +is worse off, according to my lights." + +Stafford had said nothing. Goaded by Travers' words and blinded by the +catastrophe which had broken upon him, he had acted without thought, +without consideration, for the first time in his life obeying the +behests of a headlong impulse. He had asked Beatrice to be his wife, +and to-night was to put the final seal upon their alliance. Again it +was Travers who had spoken the decisive word. + +"A secret engagement is a piece of folly," he said, "and Miss Cary is +mad to wish it. For your sake as well as hers, everything must be +above-board. Or are you shirking?" + +Stafford had made a hot retort. It was not in the scope of his +character to turn back on a road which he had marked out for himself, +and he waited now for Beatrice with the unshaken resolution of a man +who believes absolutely in himself and his own code. He waited even +with a certain impatience. Shortly before he had seen her standing at +the Rajah's side, a fair and beautiful contrast to his eastern +splendor, and, somehow, in that moment, he had understood Travers' +warning as he had not understood it before. She was to be his wife, +she was to bear his name, and it was his duty to protect her if need +be from herself. He was about to leave the alcove to go in search of +her when she pushed aside the hangings and entered. The suddenness of +her appearance and something in her expression startled him. He did +not notice how radiantly beautiful she was nor the taste and richness +of her dress. He saw only that there was a curious look of pain and +fear in her eyes which warmed his friendship and aroused in him afresh +the desire to shield her from the malice of the eyes that watched +them. + +"Have I been a long time coming?" she asked, taking the chair he +offered her. "I am so sorry. The Rajah kept me." + +Her voice sounded breathless and there was a forced lightness in her +tone which did not escape him. He bent a little over her. + +"It does not matter," he said. "You look troubled. Is there anything +wrong?" + +She laughed. + +"Nothing." + +He hesitated, and then went on slowly: + +"There is one matter I want to speak to you about, Beatrice. It is the +matter of--our engagement. I think you are wrong to wish it kept +secret. I think it can only bring trouble and misunderstanding. Will +you not allow me to tell every one?" + +The white satin slipper stopped its regular tattoo on the rugged +floor. She lifted her face to his and looked him full in the eyes. + +"You think it was foolish and unreasonable to wish no one to know? But +I had my reasons--very good reasons. I wanted the retreat kept clear +for you." + +"Retreat--for me?" + +"Yes, for you. Captain Stafford, why did you ask me to be your wife?" + +He drew himself stiffly erect. + +"I told you at the time," he said sternly. "I was quite honest. I told +you that the best a man can bring the woman he marries is not in my +power to give you. It was--shipwrecked some time ago." + +"Not so very long ago," she corrected. + +"That does not matter. The point is that I believe it in my power to +make you happy--at any rate, it would always be my ambition to see you +so; and therein I should no doubt regain a great deal that I have +lost--" + +"But you do not love me, Captain Stafford?" + +"I have just said that I have lost the power of loving." + +For a moment she was silent, her jeweled hands resting wearily on the +arms of her chair, her eyes sunk to the ground. + +"You made me an honorable proposal, Captain Stafford," she said at +last. "You are an honorable man and inspire me with the desire to be +honorable also. Won't you take back your freedom while there is yet +time?" + +"No." + +"There are others--good women among whom you would find one who would +love you as you deserve. I do not love you. All I can bring is a +certain respect and friendship--that is all." + +"I am grateful for so much," he said. He was thinking of Lois, and his +voice sounded hard and compressed. + +"If I marry you it will be because I must." + +He nodded. + +"Yes, I am aware of that." + +"Aware of that?" she said, looking up into his haggard face. "How +should you be 'aware of that?' Is my private life so public then?" + +"You misunderstand me," he said, striving to cover up what he felt to +have been a wanton piece of brutality. "I only mean, you must for the +same reason that I must--because circumstances have linked us +inseparably together, and because--" + +He broke off. The tall figure of the Rajah had passed the alcove and +he had seen Beatrice sink back in her chair. As the figure moved on +she broke into one of her harsh, jarring laughs. + +"Good heavens, Captain Stafford," she exclaimed, "your arguments +haven't a leg to stand on! What are you marrying me for?" + +"I have tried to explain," he said, swinging himself clumsily up to +the great lie of his life--"because I need you--and I hope you will +come to need me." + +"You mean I _do_ need you? Well, perhaps I do!" She sprang to her feet +and held out her hand to him. "There! I seal the bargain. I warned you +but you would not be warned. _Vogue la galere!_ Tell the whole +world--it is better so." + +He took the small firm hand and pressed it. At the same moment he saw +the Rajah approaching for a second time. + +"I will leave you now," he said in a low, earnest whisper. "I fancy +the Rajah wishes to speak with you. It would be a good opportunity to +tell him that we are engaged." + +She drew back her hand hastily. + +"Yes--of course I shall tell him." + +Stafford bowed ceremoniously, making way for Nehal Singh. As he did +so, he saw Lois enter the hall at Mrs. Carmichael's side. The two +women bowed to him, the elder in a way which he had learned to +understand. He drew aside out of their path, avoiding the genuine +kindness which Lois' eyes expressed for him. + +"Pray God you believe the worst of me!" was the thought that flashed +through his mind. "Pray God I have taught you to forget!" + +Nehal Singh had meanwhile taken Stafford's place at Beatrice's side. +As he had entered the alcove she had made an effort to pass out, but +her eyes had met his, and the look in them had held her rooted to the +ground. The color died and deepened by turns in her cheeks, and the +hand that clasped the ivory fan shook as it had never shaken before in +the course of a life full of risks and dangers. But then no man had +ever looked at her as this man did. She had outstared insolence and +snubbed sentimentality. She had never had to face such an honest, +pure-hearted worship as this young prince brought and laid silently at +her feet. No need for him to tell her that she embodied every virtue +and every perfection of which human nature is capable. She knew it, +and the knowledge broke the very backbone of her daring and stirred to +life in her sickened soul emotions which she could scarcely recognize +as her own. + +He stood quite close to her, but he did not touch her. In all their +acquaintance he had never, except when he had taken her hand in +farewell, made any attempt to draw nearer to her than the strictest +etiquette allowed. Other men--men whom she hardly knew--had taken the +opportunity which a ride or drive offered to kiss her, and had been +offended and surprised at her contemptuous rebuff. (What girl in Marut +objected to being kissed?) This man had treated her as though she were +holy, an object to be respected and protected, not to be handled as a +common plaything; and her heart had gone out to him in gratitude and +admiration. But tonight his very respect was painful to her. For a +moment she would have given the best years of her life to know that he +despised her and that all was over between them; and then came the +revulsion, the wild longing to hold him to her as though his trust in +her were her one salvation. + +"Lakshmi!" he said, in a voice broken with feeling. "Lakshmi, you are +the most perfect woman God ever sent to earth. Every hour I grow to +know you better I feel how pale and empty of all true beauty my life +was until you came. How can I thank you for all you have given me?" + +"Hush!" she said. "You must not talk to me like that. You must not." + +"Why should I not tell you what is true?" + +"Because--oh, don't you see?"--she gave a short, unsteady laugh--"we +English don't tell people everything that is true. A man does not say +that sort of thing to a woman--" + +"To one woman!" he said. + +"Yes, to one woman, perhaps. But I--I--" She hesitated, the truth +struggling feebly to her lips. She felt herself turn sick and faint as +she looked into his earnest face. She knew what answer he had ready +for her, and though it would have brought the end for which she was +praying, she sought with all her strength to keep it back. All the +brutality in her character, her indifference to the feelings and +opinions of others, failed. She dreaded the change that would come +into his eyes; she did not believe that she could bear it. Tomorrow +would be time enough. But was it any longer in her power to determine +when it would be time enough? There was an expression in Nehal Singh's +face which told her that he had already decided, and that the reins +had suddenly slipped from her hands into his. + +"Rajah--" she began, wildly seeking for some inspiration which would +give her back control over herself and him. But the triviality died on +her lips as the truth had died. A shrill cry broke above the dying +waltz, and the Rajah and Beatrice, startled by its piercing appeal, +turned from each other and confronted a catastrophe which +overshadowed, and for the moment obliterated, their own threatening +fate. + +The dancers had already retired to the sitting-out alcoves. Only one +figure occupied the floor, and that figure was Stafford's. He was +crossing the room and had reached the center when the cry had been +uttered. The amazed and startled watchers saw Lois rush toward him and +with an incredible strength and rapidity thrust him to one side. A +second later--it scarcely seemed a second--the immense golden +chandelier crashed with a sound like thunder on to the very spot where +he had been standing. A moment's uproar and horrified confusion +ensued. The place, plunged in a half-darkness, seemed filled with dust +and flying fragments, and people hurrying backward and forward, +scarcely knowing what had happened or what had been the extent of the +accident. Stafford's voice was the first to bring reassurance to the +startled crowd. + +"It's all right!" he shouted. "We are both safe, thank God!" + +They saw that he was deadly pale, though otherwise calm and collected. +In the first moment of alarm he had instinctively caught Lois in his +arms, as though to shield her from some fresh danger, but immediately +afterward he had let her go, and she stood apart amidst the debris of +the wrecked chandelier, trembling slightly, but firmly refusing all +assistance. + +"I owe my life to you," Stafford said to her, with awkward gratitude. + +"You do not need to thank me," she answered at once. "I did what any +one else would have done in my place. I saw it coming." + +"How did it happen?" The question came from Nehal Singh, who had +forced his way to her side. "I can not understand how such an accident +was possible." + +There was an anxiety in his manner which seemed to increase during +Lois' brief hesitation. + +"I hardly like to say," she said at last, in a troubled voice. "I +could not believe my eyes, and even now it seems like a dream. Or a +shadow might have deceived me. I don't know--" + +"Please tell me what you saw, or thought you saw!" the Rajah begged +earnestly. + +"I seemed to see the chandelier being lowered," she said, with an +irrepressible shudder, "and then from a dark hole in the ceiling a +hand appeared--a black hand with a knife--" + +One of the women moaned, and there was afterward a silence in which a +wave of formless fear surged over the closed circle. The men exchanged +questioning glances, to which no one had an answer. + +"That's just the way," Beatrice heard some one behind her say. "We +dance on the crust of a volcano or under a threatening avalanche. +Sooner or later the one gives way or the other falls. There is no real +safety from these devils." + +Meanwhile Nehal Singh had approached the wreckage and was examining +the crown, to which a piece of gilded rope and chain were still +attached. One or two of the men were engaged in stamping out the +candles, which still sputtered feebly on the floor. The rest stood +about uncomfortably, hypnotized by an indefinable alarm. + +"I fear you did not dream, Miss Caruthers," the Rajah said at last. +"The rope has been cut--the chain unlinked. Some wicked harm was +intended to us all." + +"Not to us all," Stafford observed coolly. "I think you will admit, +Rajah, that whoever the murderer was, he would have chosen a more +advantageous moment if he had intended general damage. My life was the +one aimed at, and I am all the more convinced that I am right, because +this is the third time within twenty-four hours that I have escaped by +a miracle from accidents which were not accidental." + +The Rajah started sharply around. + +"How?--what do you mean?" he demanded. + +"Yesterday my boat on the river was plugged. To-day a native tried to +frighten my horse over the ravine. This"--pointing to the +chandelier--"is the third attempt." + +"Do you know of any one who could have a grudge against you?" + +"No." + +"Or against--your family?" + +There was a slight hesitation in Stafford's manner. He frowned as a +man does who has been pressed with an unpleasant question. + +"That is more possible," he admitted. + +Nehal Singh made no further remark. He stood staring straight ahead +into the half-darkness, and every eye in that uneasy assembly fixed +itself on his face, as though striving to read from his expression the +conclusion to which his mind was groping. For his exclamation after +Stafford's first announcement had betrayed that a sudden suspicion had +flashed before him, and they waited for him to take them into his +confidence. But they waited in vain. He seemed to have forgotten their +existence, and the silence grew tense and painful. All at once, Mrs. +Berry, who was clinging to her husband's arm, uttered a scream, which +acted like a shock of electricity on the overstrained nerves of those +who stood about her. + +"Look! Look!" she cried. "Miss Caruthers is on fire! Oh, help! Help!" + +She turned and rushed like a frightened sheep to the back of the hall, +crying incoherent warnings to those who tried to bar her headlong +flight. It was a catastrophe upon catastrophe. How it happened no one +knew--possibly some half-extinct candle had done the work. In an +instant Lois' white silk dress had become a sheet of flame which +mounted with furious rapidity to her horror-stricken face. In such +disasters it is only the question of a fraction of a second as to who +recovers his wits first. Almost on the top of Mrs. Berry's heedless +scream Beatrice had sprung toward the doomed girl--with what intention +she hardly knew--but before she was in reach of danger Adam Nicholson +thrust her to one side and, folding Lois in his arms, flung her to the +ground. + +"A rug--a shawl--anything!" he shouted. + +Mrs. Carmichael tore the long wrap from her shoulders, and a dozen +willing hands lent what assistance first occurred to them. But +Nicholson fought his enemy alone. + +"Stand back!" he commanded. "Stand back!" + +They obeyed him instinctively, and stood helpless, watching the short, +desperate struggle between life and death. Scarcely a moment elapsed +before the flames died down--one last tight drawing together of Mrs. +Carmichael's wrap, and they were extinct. Nicholson stumbled to his +feet, the frail, unconscious burden in his arms. + +"Please make way," he said. "I do not think she is badly hurt, but she +must be taken home at once. Stafford, go and see if the carriage is +there." + +His own face was singed, and one of his hands badly burnt, but he did +not seem to notice his own injuries. Colonel Carmichael, who had +entered the hall with him at the moment of the accident, helped to +clear the road. His features in the half-light were grey with the fear +of those last few moments. + +"You have saved our little girl!" he said brokenly to Nicholson. "You +have saved her life. God bless you for it, Adam!" + +"That's all right," was the cheerful answer. "You know, Colonel, Lois +and I were always helping each other out of scrapes, and I expect it +was my turn." He looked down at the pale face against his shoulder, +and there was an unconscious tenderness in his expression which +touched the shaken old man's heart. + +"She will be glad to hear it was you, Adam," he said. "You were always +her favorite." + +They had reached the great doors, which the Rajah himself had flung +wide open, when Travers sprang up the steps to meet them. He was +dishevelled, breathless, and exhausted as though with hard running, +and his eyes, as they flashed from one to the other of the little +procession, were those of a madman. + +"What has happened?" he demanded frantically. "I was outside with +Webb. What has happened?--Oh!" He caught sight of Lois in Nicholson's +arms, and his cry was high and hysterical, like a frightened woman's. + +Stafford seized him by the shoulder and dragged him back into the now +empty hall. + +"Control yourself!" he said roughly. "Don't behave like a fool. She is +all right, but they won't want you interfering, especially if you +can't keep your head." + +"They won't want me!" Travers exclaimed, staring at him. He then broke +into a discordant laugh. "Why, my good Stafford, they'll have to have +me, whether they want me or no. Lois is mine--mine, I tell you; and +that fellow, Nicholson, had better look to himself--" + +"You are beside yourself, Travers. Nicholson saved her life. What do +you mean by saying she is yours?" + +"She is to be my wife. Who can have more right to her than I have?" + +The two men stared at each other through the semi-darkness. One by one +the lights at the side of the hall were extinguished by the +softly-moving servants. The hushed voices of the departing guests died +away in the distance. + +"Your wife!" Stafford repeated slowly. "Since when is that, Travers?" + +"Since this afternoon. Let me pass!" + +Stafford made no effort to detain him. He stood on one side, and +Travers hurried down the steps. A minute later he was driving his trap +down the avenue at a pace which boded danger for himself and for any +who dared to cross his path. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FALSE LIGHT + + +The way to the new Bazaar lay to the right of the mine through a +forest clearing, and was one of Marut's most beautiful roads. Of late, +increased traffic had held the English pleasure-seekers from their +once favorite haunt, and in this early evening hour the bullock wagons +had not as yet begun their journeyings to and from the residential +quarter to the Bazaar, and the road was pleasantly quiet and peaceful. +Hitherto Beatrice had kept her thoroughbred at a constant and +exhausting canter, but here, against her resolution, she pulled up to +a walk and let the cool scented air from the pines blow gently and +caressingly against her hot cheeks. + +"This is one of the moments which Fate herself can not take from us," +she said to her companion. "It is perhaps a very brief moment, but it +is unclouded. We are just glad and happy to be alive in such a lovely +world, and all the outward circumstances which make our lot hard and +bitter are forgotten. Great and little worries are put on one side, +and we can feel like children to whom the past and future is nothing +and the present everything." + +"I know what you mean," Nehal Singh answered, "and the hours spent +with you are always those which no one can ever take from me." + +She bent over her horse and stroked the glossy coat with her gloved +hand. Then she remembered that she would never ride him again, and the +thought pained her. It was _his_ horse, and this was their last ride +together, though he did not know it. She was going to tell the +truth--or something like the truth--now. No, not now--later on, when +they turned homeward. Then she would tell him, and it would be well +over. But there was no hurry. All that was still in the future. The +moment was hers--a happy moment full of unalloyed charm such as she +had never known in her barren, profitless life. She was not going to +throw it away unless he forced her, and hitherto he had made no +attempt to lead the conversation out of the usual channels. + +It was the first time that they were alone together since the eventful +evening at the club, and in the intervening week enough had happened +to give them food for intercourse. By mutual consent, the accident of +the chandelier was not touched upon. Nehal Singh, though promising to +investigate the matter thoroughly, had shown a distress out of +proportion to his responsibility, and it was understood that for some +reason or another, the subject was painful to him. On the other hand, +he had shown a lively and warm-hearted interest in Lois' recovery. She +had sustained little more than a severe shock, and he had been +constant in his attentions, as though striving to atone for an injury +he had unwittingly done her. The accident had also served to deepen +his interest in Adam Nicholson. + +"That is a man!" he had said to Beatrice, as they had spoken of his +presence of mind, and his enthusiasm had rung like a last echo of his +old boyishness. "I can not understand why Travers seems to dislike him +so." + +Beatrice had made no reply. She had her own ideas on the matter, +having a quick eye for expressions, and she knew that the news of +Lois' engagement had been a shock both to Nicholson and to the +Carmichaels. Travers was one of those men whom the world receives with +open arms in society, but repudiates at the entrance to the family +circle; and of this fact Travers himself was bitterly conscious. And, +on the other hand, there was Nicholson, the accepted and cherished +friend, to whom the world looked with unreserved respect and deserved +admiration. It was not altogether surprising that the two men had +little in common, and on Travers' side there was added a certain +amount of satisfied spite. His instinct told him that he had won Lois +at the critical moment, and that another twenty-four hours would have +seen her safe under the reawakening influence of an old, only +half-forgotten friendship; and Nicholson, too, felt dimly that a +cunning and none too scrupulous hand had shattered a secret hope that +he had cherished from his first year in India. Altogether, there was a +stiffness between them which the world was quick to recognize without +understanding. But Beatrice had made her observations, and, as it has +been said, had come to a definite conclusion. Her interest in Lois was +now thoroughly aroused, and the vision of a dark, suffering little +face against a white pillow recurred to her as she walked her horse +beside Nehal Singh's. As they passed out of the wood, her companion +lifted his whip and pointed in front of them. + +"Look!" he said. + +She raised her hand to the rim of her helmet, shading her eyes from +the dazzling sun, and gazed in the direction which he indicated. + +"Why!" she exclaimed, smiling, "a model world, Rajah!" + +"Yes," he answered, "that is what I have tried to make it. I do not +think plague or disease will ever find firm foothold here, and one day +my people will learn to do for themselves what I do for them. They are +as yet no more than children who have to be taught what is good and +bad. There is the chief overseer." + +A respectable looking Hindu, who stood at the door of his hut, +salaamed profoundly. It was as though he had given some secret signal, +for in an instant the broad street was alive with dark, scantily clad +figures, who bowed themselves to the dust and raised cries of welcome +as the Rajah and his companion picked their way among them. It was a +picturesque scene, not without its pathos; for their joy was sincere +and their respect heartfelt. Beatrice glanced at Nehal Singh. A flush +had crept up under his dark skin, and his eyes shone with suppressed +enthusiasm. + +"Is their homage so precious to you?" she asked. + +"It is a sign that I have power over them," he answered, "and that is +precious to me. Without power I could not do anything. They believe +that I am God-sent, and so they obey blindly. Otherwise, these changes +would have been impossible." He paused, smiling to himself; then, with +a new amusement in his dark eyes, he looked at Beatrice. "My people +are not fond of an over-abundance of clothing," he observed. "Do you +consider a change in that respect essential?" + +Beatrice stared at him, and then, seeing that he was laughing, she +laughed with him. + +"Certainly not! If the poor wretches knew what we poor Europeans have +to suffer with our artificial over-abundance, their obedience would +stop short at such a request. What made you think of such a thing?" + +"It was Mr. Berry who spoke to me about it. He said I ought to insist +on them having what he called decent attire. It seems he had been +using his influence in vain, and was very unhappy about it. He said as +much that--that trousers were the first and most necessary step toward +salvation." He looked quickly at her to see if she was offended at his +outspokenness, but she only laughed. + +"Poor Mr. Berry is a Philistine," she said. "He can't help thinking +absurdities of that sort." + +"Would you mind telling me what you mean by a Philistine?" he asked. + +"A Philistine is a person who sees everything in its wrong +proportions," she answered. "He mistakes the essential for the +unessential, and _vice versa._ He can never recognize the beauty in +art or nature, because he can never get any further than the +unpleasant details. One might call him a mental earth-worm who has +only the smallest possible outlook. Mr. Berry, for instance, has +never, I feel sure, felt the charm of India and its people. He is +always too overpowered by the fact that the clothing is too scanty for +his idea of decency. You must not take him as an example of European +taste, although you will find only too many like him." + +"I am glad to have your reassurance," Nehal Singh replied. "Mr. Berry +angered me, and I can well understand that he has no influence among +my people. They are very innocent in their way, and they can not +understand where the wickedness lies. Nor do I wish them to +understand. It does not seem to me necessary." His mouth settled in a +new and rather stern line. "I shall order Mr. Berry to leave them in +peace." + +She smiled at this little outburst of autocracy. + +"You do not wish your people to become Christians?" she asked. + +"I shall not interfere in their religion," was the quick answer--"or, +at any rate, I shall force nothing. If my people believe truly and +earnestly in their gods, I shall not destroy their belief, for then +they will believe in nothing. And the belief is everything. As for +me"--his voice sank and grew suddenly gentler--"I am different. I have +been led by a light which I must follow." + +After a moment's thoughtful silence he changed the subject and began +pointing out to her the improvements he had brought about in the +native dwellings. Even Beatrice, who had seen little of the old +conditions, felt that the change was almost incredible. A +conservative, indolent and superstitious people had within a few +months been transferred from loathsome dirt and squalor into a "model +village" such as an English workman might have envied. Nehal Singh +showed her the houses at the end of the Bazaar which belonged to the +chief men, or those responsible to him for the cleanliness and order +of the community. Small, prettily planted gardens separated one low +dwelling from the other, and each bore its stamp of individuality, as +though the owner had tried by some new and quaint device to outdo his +neighbor. + +"Of course," Nehal Singh explained to her, as they turned homeward, +"there are men with whom nothing can be done. They have spent their +lives as beggars, and can not work now even if they would. For such I +have made provision, although they, too, have been given small tasks +to keep them from appearing beggars. But they are the last of their +kind. There shall in future be no idlers in Marut. From thenceforward +every man shall work honestly and faithfully for his daily bread, and +I will see that he has no need to starve. The mine will employ the +strongest, and then, later, Travers and I intend to revive the various +industries suited to the people's taste and talent." + +"You have already done a great deal," she said, moved to real +admiration. "I tremble to think what it has cost you." As she spoke, +the hidden irony in her casually spoken words came home to her, and +she felt the old fear clutch at her heart. + +"I have given the best I have--myself," he answered gravely. "Of +material wealth I have only retained what is beautiful; for beauty +must not be sold to be given as bread among the poor. That would be a +crime--as though one would sell Heaven for earth. Travers wished me to +sell the old jeweled statues and relics, but I would not. They belong +to my people, and one day, when they have learned to see and +understand, they will thank me that I have kept the splendors intact +for them." + +"You are wise," she said thoughtfully--"wiser than Travers and many +others." + +"In my first enthusiasm, I meant to sell everything, and live as the +poorest of them all," he went on; "but I soon saw that that was wrong. +The man into whose hands wealth is given has a great task set him. He +has a power denied to others. He can collect and preserve all that is +beautiful in art and nature--not for himself, but for those who +otherwise would never see anything but what is poor and squalid and +commonplace. True, he must also strive to alleviate the sufferings of +their bodies, so that their minds may be free to enjoy; but he must +not sacrifice the higher for the lower task--that would surely be the +work of what you call a Philistine. And his higher task is to feed +their souls with all that is lovely and stainless. Has not the Master +said, 'A man shall not live by bread alone'? Is it not true? And +again, I have read: 'What profiteth it a man if he gain the whole +world and lose his own soul?' And is not the man who sits, fed and +clothed, in a low, flat, level world of mud-huts in danger, of +forgetting that there were ever such wonders as the minarets of a +high, Heaven-aspiring temple? Will he not grow to think that there is +nothing more beautiful than a mud-hut, nothing more to be desired than +his daily bread? I have thought of all this, and I have preserved my +palace and everything that it contains. I have preserved it for my +people. It shall be for them a goal and encouragement, a voice +speaking to them day by day from the high towers: 'See what the hands +of thy fathers have created! Thou people in the low dwellings, arise +and do greater things still, for the great and beautiful is nearest +God'!" + +He stopped abruptly, shaken by his own passionate enthusiasm. His fine +head raised, his eyes flashing, his hand extended, he could have stood +for the statue of some inspired prophet. + +"You are a modern Buddha," she said, smiling faintly. Inwardly she was +comparing him to Mr. Berry--Mr. Berry, whose highest ideal in life was +to bring everything down to a nice, shabby, orthodox level. + +Nehal Singh's hand dropped to his side and he looked at her earnestly. + +"That is what they say," he answered. "My people say that I am the +tenth Avatar. But I am not. I am only a man--scarcely so much. A few +months ago I was no more than a beggar in the Bazaar, an idler and a +dreamer. If I have thrown aside my false dreams and come out as an +untried worker into the light of truth, it is because I have been led +by God--through you." + +Every trace of color fled from her face, and the clear eyes which met +his from beneath the broad helmet distended as though at some sudden +shock. In the course of their earnest but impersonal conversation she +had almost forgotten what was to come. This was the end of the ride, +this was the to-morrow, the inevitable to-morrow of those who +procrastinate with the inevitable. + +"I--I have done nothing," she said, striving to hush down the rising +tide of suffocating emotion. + +"Yes, it is nothing. I know it is nothing, but it may still become +something," he answered. "Or is it not already something? Is it not +something that you have led me to the feet of the Great Teacher? Is it +not something that I am awake and standing on the threshold of a new +Earth and Heaven, as yet blinded by the light, but with every day +gaining courage and strength to go forward? Do not say that this is +nothing--you to whom I owe all that I am and ever shall be!" + +She threw back her fair head. Now was the time to call to her aid all +her cynicism, all the shallow, heartless skepticism which had hitherto +ruled her character. Now was the time to laugh and to throw into this +man's face what she had been glad and satisfied to throw into the +faces of a dozen other men--the biting acid of her mockery. But she +could not laugh--she could not laugh at this man. Her tongue cleaved +to the roof of her mouth, her throat seemed thick with a suffocating +dust, so that she could make no sound. + +"God forgive me if I have boasted of my own progress," he went on +earnestly. "I know too well how much of the long road I have still to +travel. It could not be otherwise. I can not reach in a few months +what men have attained who have always lived in the light of truth. +But I have hope. I carry in my heart your image and the ideal you have +set me--the ideal of your race." + +Then speech was given her. + +"Cast that ideal out!" she said wildly and recklessly. "It is too low +for you. You have passed it. You never needed it. Choose your own +ideal, and forget me--forget us all. We can teach you nothing." She +caught her breath as though she would have called back her own words. +They were not the words she had meant to speak. They did not sound +like her own. They had been put in her mouth by a force within her +whose existence had been revealed to her, as a hidden volcanic +mountain is revealed, by a sudden fierce upheaval, which threw off all +the old rubbish loading the surface of her nature. It was only a +momentary upheaval. The next minute she was trying to save herself +behind the old flippant subterfuges. "I am talking nonsense!" she +exclaimed, with a short angry laugh. + +"Then it is not true what you said?" He had urged his horse close to +hers, and she could almost feel the intensity with which his eyes were +fixed upon her face. That gaze stifled her laughter, drove her deeper +into the danger she was striving to escape. + +"Yes, it is true!" she answered between her teeth. + +His strong hand rested upon hers and held it with a gentleness which +paralyzed her strength. + +"If it is true, then the time has come!" he said. "The hour has struck +which God ordained for us both. Beatrice, I may tell you now what you +have surely known since the day we stood together before the altar--I +love you. You are the first and last woman in my world." His voice +pierced through to her senses through waves of roaring, confusing +sound. Her heart beat till it became unbearable torture. "Do you +remember that second evening?" he went on. "The priest tried to stop +you at the gate of the sanctuary, but I spoke to him, and he let you +pass. You asked me what I had said, but I would not tell you--not +then. Now I may: 'This is the woman whom God has given me--'" + +She flung his hand violently from her. + +"You must not say that!" she cried, with desperate resolution. "You +must not say that sort of thing--to me." + +"Why should I not? I love you." + +"You must not love me. I--I am to be Captain Stafford's wife." + +"Beatrice!" His cry of incredulous pain drove her to frantic measures. + +"It is true. I swear it." + +Then it was all over. He made no protest. He rode by her side as +though he had been turned to stone, rigidly upright, his hand hanging +lifeless at his side, his face expressionless. She felt that she had +struck right at his life's vitality--that she had killed him. Yet it +was not remorse that blinded her till the white road became a +shimmering blur--it was a frightful personal pain which was hers and +hers alone. Neither spoke. They passed a crowd of natives returning to +the Bazaar. They salaamed, but Nehal Singh made no response, as was +his wont. He did not seem to see them. Mechanically he guided his +horse through the bowing crowd. The silence became unbearable. She had +flippantly told herself that as long as he did not make a "scene" she +would be satisfied. He had not made a "scene." From the moment that +she had made her final declaration he had not spoken, and now she was +praying that he would say something to her--anything, she did not care +what, only not that terrible accusatory silence. At last, in +desperation, she began to make it up with him as she had planned--in +an incoherent, helpless way. + +"I have hurt you," she stammered. "Forgive me--I did not mean to. It +has all been a cruel mistake. I looked upon you as a friend. How could +I tell that you meant more than that? If I have deceived you, I can +only ask you with all my heart to forgive me." + +He turned his head and looked at her. His eyes were dull and clouded, +as though a film had been drawn across them. + +"Not you have deceived me," he answered quietly. "I have deceived +myself. I thought I was following a great God-sent light. It was +nothing more than a firefly glittering through my darkness. You are +not to blame." + +He was already casting contempt at the influence which she had +exercised over him; he was cutting himself free from her--as she had +desired, as was inevitable. Yet, with a foolish, senseless anger, she +sought to draw him back to her and hold him, if only by the reverence +for what had been. + +"Do not despise our friendship!" she pleaded. "If it has not been what +you thought it was, has it any the less opened the gates of Heaven and +earth, as you said? What I have given you is good--the very best I had +to give. The ideal was a high one. I helped you toward it with my +friendship. Is it bad because it was only friendship--because it +couldn't be more than that? You do not know," she went on, with a +forced attempt to appear cheerful and matter-of-fact, "you do not know +how much your trust and confidence has been to me. I have been so +proud to help you. If I had ever thought it would come to this--I +would have stopped long ago." + +So she lied, clinging to his respect as though it had been her +salvation. And he believed her. His face relaxed, and for the first +time she saw clearly what he was enduring. + +"I do not despise our--friendship, even though it must end here," he +said. "What you have given me I shall always keep--always. I shall not +turn back because I must go on alone. Your image shall still guide me +in my life. It is not less pure and noble because I can not ever call +it my own." She heard his voice break, but he went on quietly and +gently: "I pray you may be happy with the man you love." + +She had conquered. She had kept her place in his life at the same time +that she was thrusting him out of her own. He would continue +undeterred along the road on to which she had tempted him--perhaps to +his destruction--believing in her, trusting in her as no other being +had ever done or would do. This much she had snatched from the +wreckage. + +They did not speak again until they reached her bungalow. Then he +dismounted and, quietly motioning the syce to one side, helped her to +the ground. + +"It is for the last time," he said. "Good-by, Lakshmi!" + +"Good-by!" + +She could not lift her eyes to his face, but from the top of the steps +she was tempted to look back. He stood where she had left him, his +hand resting on her saddle, his head bent, and there was something in +his attitude which sent her hurrying into the house without a second +glance. + +She found her mother waiting for her in her room, whither she fled to +be alone and undisturbed to fight and stamp out the pain that was +aching in her heart. Mrs. Cary, wonderfully curled and powdered, +received her daughter with unusual rapture. + +"My dear!" she exclaimed, kissing Beatrice on both cheeks, "I am so +glad you have come back early! Captain Stafford is here, and has +something for you--I shouldn't be surprised if it was a ring, you +lucky child! Did I not tell you he was the very husband for you? He +has been telling me all about Lois and Travers. Everybody is quite +pleased about it. Now hurry up and make yourself pretty. Why, what's +the matter? You look so--so queer!" + +Beatrice pushed past her mother and, going to the table, flung herself +down as though exhausted. + +"It's nothing," she muttered. "Tell--John I can't see him. I'm +tired--ill--anything you like." + +"Beaty, I won't do anything of the sort. What has happened? Is it that +horrid Rajah? Did you tell him?" + +"Yes." + +"And he made a scene, my poor Beaty?" + +"No." + +"Can't you answer me properly? Tell me what happened." + +"He asked me to marry him." + +Mrs. Cary first gasped, and then burst into a loud, cackling laugh. + +"He asked you to marry him! That colored man! I hope you laughed in +his face?" + +Beatrice turned, one clenched hand resting on the table. + +"No," she said, "I did not laugh--there was nothing to laugh at. I +have kept my promise to you." Then, unexpectedly she buried her face +in her arms and burst into tears. + +Mrs. Cary stood there thunderstruck, her mouth open, her eyes wide +with alarm. For one moment she was incapable of reasoning out this +catastrophe. She had never seen Beatrice cry--her tears, because of +their rarity, were as terrible as a man's, and could not be explained +away by nerves or fatigue. This was something else. Mrs. Cary crossed +the room. She laid a fat, trembling hand on her daughter's shoulder. + +"Beaty, what's the matter?" she asked uneasily. "What is it? Are you +ill?--or--or--Beaty!"--a light dawning across her dull face--"good +heavens! you don't love that man?" There was no answer. After a long +moment, Mrs. Cary's hand fell to her side. "You couldn't!" she +muttered. "It wouldn't do. Think of what people would say! Our +position!" Still no answer. She turned and stumbled toward the door. +"I will tell the captain--you are ill," she said. + +Beatrice did not move. + + + + + +BOOK II + + + + +CHAPTER I + +BUILDING THE CATHEDRAL + + +The pretty little drawing-room was already in half darkness. Travers +went to the window and, leaning his shoulder lazily against the +casement, began to sort out and open the letters that had been +lying on the tea-table waiting for him. + +"One from the Colonel, Lois," he said, after a moment's perusal. "No +news in particular. He is down with a touch of fever, and the whole +regiment is camping out without him. Stafford's marriage still hanging +fire. Silly girl! What's she waiting for, in the name of conscience?" + +Lois looked up from her duties at the table. + +"They have been engaged over a year," she said. + +"As long as we have been engaged and married," he answered with an +affectionate smile. "How long is that, little woman? About eighteen +months, eh? They don't either of them seem in much of a hurry." + +He went on reading, only stretching out his hand mechanically as she +brought him his second cup of tea. Lois remained at his side, her eyes +fixed thoughtfully, almost hungrily, on the torn envelope which lay on +the floor at his feet. + +"Why did you call Beatrice Cary a silly girl?" she asked at last. "It +never struck me that she was silly." + +"She wasn't, but she will be if she doesn't hold Stafford fast." + +A shadow passed over the face still turned to the floor. + +"Is Stafford--so--so desirable?" + +"His money is, dear child, and the Carys may need money in the near +future." + +"I thought they were rich?" + +"Their money is in the mine." + +"But the mine is to be successful?" + +He smiled in good-natured amusement at her persistency. + +"Have you ever heard of a mine that wasn't to be successful? If you +wait a moment, I will tell you the latest news. Here's a note from the +Rajah." + +He tore open the large square envelope, and went on reading with the +same idle interest. "There's been an accident with the blasting," he +observed casually. "Five men killed. Our native friend is, of course, +in a fever. Has pensioned all the families. I don't know where he will +land us with his extravagances. We shall want all the money we can get +for repairing the damage. Philanthropy is becoming a sort of disease +with him. Fortunately, I am not bitten so far." He laughed, and threw +the letter to one side. "I expect I shall have to run up north to put +things straight." + +"Hasn't the mine brought in enough?" Lois answered innocently. + +"Enough?" He looked at her with a twinkle in his bright eyes. "Dear +girl, it hasn't paid so much as a quarter of its expenses." + +"But will it ever?" + +"Heaven knows--or perhaps even Heaven does not. I'm sure I don't." + +"You talk so calmly about it!" she exclaimed, aghast. "Surely you are +heavily involved--and not only you, but the Rajah and the people in +Marut?" + +He patted her on the cheek. + +"Don't worry on that score," he assured her. "Besides, it's not my way +to sit down and cry over what can't be helped. I dare say I shall pull +through somehow." + +"Yes, _you_, perhaps." + +He changed color slightly under the challenge in her eyes, but his +expression remained unruffled. + +"You are not exactly a very trusting wife, are you, Lois? It comes of +letting a woman have a look into business. Never mind, we won't argue +the subject all over again. I know what you think of me. There, +good-by. I must be off again. Nicholson will be around shortly. I told +him he would find me at home." + +"Had you not better wait for him, then?" + +"Oh, no. I only told him I should be at home as a sort of _facon de +parler_. He only comes when he thinks I am there--admirable person--and +I know you like to have old friends about. Good-by, dear." + +"Good-by." She accepted his kiss listlessly, and when he had gone went +back to the window. + +The window had become Lois Travers' vantage-point of life. From thence +she could overlook the bustling Madras square into which four streets +poured their unending stream, and build her fancies about each one of +the atoms as they passed unconsciously beneath her gaze. Some of the +faces were well known to her. They always passed at the time when she +took her sewing and sat by the window, pretending to work by the +fading glow of evening light, and about each she wove a simple little +story, always, or nearly always, happy. She imagined the men returning +from business to their homes. If there was ever a cloud upon their +brow, she smiled to think how the trouble would be brushed away by +loving hands; if their step were more than usually light and elastic, +her own heart grew lighter with the thought that they were hurrying +back to the source of their happiness. + +Lois lived on the real or imagined joys of others. She clung to her +air castles in which her unknown heroes lived, building them more +beautifully, fitting them out with more perfect content, as her own +brick dwelling grew darker and more desolate. She felt that if ever +she let go her hold on them she would lose faith in human happiness, +and thus in life itself. For between Lois Travers the woman and Lois +Travers the light-hearted, high-spirited girl there stretched a year's +gulf. Marriage had been to her what it is more or less to all women--a +Rubicon, a Book of Revelations in which girlish ideals are rarely +realized, sometimes modified, more often destroyed. + +Clever and pliable women, women with the "art of living" do not allow +their hearts to be broken in the latter event, supposing them to have +relaxed their cleverness so far as to have had ideals at all; but +Lois was not clever or pliable, and her ideals had been destroyed. She +had loved John Stafford, and in some inexplicable way he had failed +her. She had given her life into Travers' hands in the belief that he +needed her for his progress, and that in helping him her idle powers +of love and devotion would not be wasted. Too late she realized--what +no woman ever realizes until it _is_ too late--that the man who needs +a woman for his salvation is already far beyond her help. + +Beneath Lois' light-heartedness and love of gaiety there lurked a +spirit of Puritanism which had drawn her to Stafford, and now brought +her into violent conflict with Travers' fundamental frivolity. In the +first month of their marriage she had had to admit that she had +reached the bottom of his character, and found nothing there--not so +much as a deeply planted vice. He had pretended a depth of feeling +which was only in part sincere, and he was too lazy to keep up a +pretense when his chief object was gained. He really cared for Lois, +but he had wilfully exaggerated the role she played in his life. +Always good-natured and kindly, he never allowed her to ruffle or +anger him. She had never seen him rough or cruel to any human being, +and all these superficial virtues forced her farther from him. + +A few significant incidents had revealed to her that his good nature +covered a cold-blooded indifference where his own interests were +vitally concerned. His apparent pliability hid a dexterity which +evaded every recognized principle. In vain she exerted the influence +with which he had pretended to invest her. The first effort proved +that it had never really existed. It was no more in his life than the +valuable ornament on his mantel-shelf--a thing to be dusted, +preserved, and admired in leisure hours, never set to serious use. +This last discovery, made shortly after their arrival in Madras, had +broken her. From that moment she had felt herself crippled. Her life +became a blank, colorless waste, all the more terrible because of the +mirages with which it was lighted. The world saw the mirages: the +good-looking, genial-tempered husband; the well-furnished house; all +the outward symptoms of an irrefutably satisfactory and successful +life. + +Only one person perhaps saw deeper, and that was Nicholson. He had +been ordered for a year to Madras, and thus it came about that they +often met. Travers' first dislike for the officer had evaporated, and +he seemed rather to insist on an increase of their intimacy, inviting +Nicholson constantly to the house. And in those long evening visits +Nicholson had seen what others did not see and what Lois kept hidden +in her own heart. For she had told no one that the mirages were no +more than mirages--that her life still lacked all the vital elements +of reality and sincerity. She was proud, and not even the people in +dear old Marut suspected that she was stifling in the hot Madras air +and in the unhealthy atmosphere of small lies and loose principles in +which Travers was so thoroughly at home. Only Nicholson's sensitive +temperament felt what others neither heard nor saw. + +So a year had passed, and every evening Lois sat by the window, +watching the busy crowd, and building up their lives as she had once +dreamed of building up her own. She scarcely thought of herself. +Memories are dangerous. The present was too real to be considered, and +the future too blank and hopeless. + +The darkness increased. Twilight yielded to nightfall, and the yellow +lights sprang up in the shops opposite her window. She heard the door +open, but did not turn, thinking it was her husband unexpectedly +returned. + +"Shall I light the lamp?" she asked. + +It was not Travers who answered. A familiar voice struck on her ears, +like the memories, ringing out a dangerous response from her tired +soul. + +"Forgive me, Mrs. Travers. I met your husband this afternoon, and he +told me to drop in unannounced, as he would be alone. It seems the +other way about. I am very sorry to seem so rude." + +Lois rose quickly to her feet. She saw Nicholson standing in the +doorway, tall, upright, his face hidden by the shadow. + +"I won't disturb you," he added, after a moment's hesitation. + +The tone of formality hurt her. With a return of her old +impulsiveness, she began searching for the matches. + +"You are not disturbing me," she said. "On the contrary, I--was +expecting you. Archibald told me you were coming, but I forgot to +light up. I was twilight-dreaming, if there is such a term." + +She laughed with a forced cheerfulness, and he made no answer. The +little red-shaded lamp gave her some trouble, and when she looked up +she saw that he was standing opposite her, the light falling on a +broad scar across his forehead. + +"How the burn shows to-night!" she exclaimed involuntarily. "Will you +never lose it?" + +"Never," he answered. "I do not want to. When I am depressed, I look +at it, and remember that I have done one thing worth doing in my +life." + +"I don't know," she returned. "You have done more useful things than +that." + +"Not to my mind." + +"Well, but to mine. There, when I have pulled the curtains and put the +lamp just at your elbow, you could almost imagine yourself back in +England, couldn't you? Imagine the street outside as a bit of London. +There could hardly be more noise. The idea may refresh you. You look +so tired." + +He seated himself in the comfortable wicker chair by the table and +looked about him with a faint smile of content. + +"Yes," he said, "it is homely, isn't it? The red light, and the pretty +little room, and you sitting there working. It might be a corner of +the old country--or of Marut. Your study was just like this, I +remember." + +"Yes, I copied it. It made me feel less lonely. Only I flatter myself +that it is tidier here than it used to be in the old days." + +He laughed, and the laughter sent the light shining in his eyes. + +"Rather! When I first joined I had the chemical craze on, do you +remember? I thought I was going to discover some wonderful new +gunpowder, and we used to experiment together in your room. The +business came to an untimely end when I blew off part of the +ceiling--" + +"And some of my eyebrows!" she interposed merrily. + +"Yes, of course. I don't know which disaster upset Mrs. Carmichael +most, good soul. After that I forget what craze came about, but we +always had a new one on the list, hadn't we?" + +She nodded, her head once more bent over her work. + +"None of them lasted," she said. "Crazes never do." + +There was a moment's silence. Their little burst of gay recollections +was over, and the restraint had regained its old ascendancy over them. +Unknown to her, Nicholson was watching his companion with keen, +anxious eyes. + +"You look pale and tired," he said gently. "Madras is getting too much +for you. When is Travers going to take you for a change?" + +"I don't know. Not just now. Besides, I am happier here. I like the +noise and bustle." + +"You used not to. You were all for outdoor sports and beautiful +scenery." + +"Yes, but now it is different. I could not stand the quiet. I must +have noise to distract me--I mean, I have grown so accustomed to it." + +"Yes," he said slowly, "one grows accustomed to it." Then, presently, +he added, in another tone: "At any rate, my term in Madras is at an +end. I return to Marut next week." + +She started. The start was almost a violent one, and her hands fell +limply in her lap. + +"You are going back to Marut?" she said. "For ever?" + +He smiled, but his eyes avoided hers. + +"Not for ever, I hope. I am sick of pen-work, and want to get back to +the front among my men. There is a company of sepoys to be stationed +at Marut, and they have given me the command. It's a good post, though +of course I would rather be at the frontier, where there's something +doing. At any rate, I must get away from Madras as soon as possible." + +"Yes," she said absently, "no doubt it is best." + +She went on stitching as though nothing had happened, but her hands +trembled, and once she threw back her head as though fighting down a +strong emotion. But he had ceased to watch her. He was leaning a +little forward, one elbow resting on his knee, his eyes fixed +steadfastly in front of him. + +"Can I be the bearer of any messages?" he asked at last. + +"No, thank you. I write regularly. Or--yes, you might tell them that +you left me well and happy. That will please them. Will you be so +kind?" + +"Will it be kind to give a message which is not quite true?--I mean," +he added hastily, "you do not seem strong." + +"Oh, I am strong enough. I do not think I shall ever be ill." + +Another long and painful silence intervened. There was no sound, save +Lois' thread as it was drawn through the thick material. Nicholson +drew out his watch. + +"You mustn't think me rude, Mrs. Travers," he said, with an abrupt +return to his old formality, "but I have any amount of work to do +before I leave, and among other things I wanted to see your husband on +business. He told me the other day that he had some shares in the +Marut Company going, and said if I would care for them--" + +Her work dropped from her hand to the floor. She stared at him with a +face whiter than the linen she had been stitching. + +"But you are not going to buy them?" she asked sharply. Something in +her tone forced him to meet her eyes. + +"Oh, I don't know. Why not? I'm a poor business man, and your husband +always seems to come off well in his ventures. Without being in the +least a speculator, I should be glad to make a little money." He +smiled. "I have another craze on, you see--a gun this time--and it +requires capital to complete. So I thought--" + +She leaned forward. One small hand lay clenched on the table between +them, and there was a force and energy in her attitude which arrested +his startled attention. + +"I think you are mistaken, Captain Nicholson," she said. "My husband +has no shares to sell." + +"But yesterday he told me that he had!" + +"Yes, yesterday, no doubt. But he heard to-day from the Rajah. I +think, if you do not mind waiting, he will tell you himself that what +I say is true." + +For a second they looked straight at each other without speaking. +Neither was conscious of any clear thought, but both knew that in that +breathing space they had exchanged a signal from those hidden chambers +which men unlock only in brief moments of silent crisis. The crisis +had come in spite of a year's defiant struggle. It had broken down the +barrier of trivial commonplaces behind which they had always sought +shelter; it had rushed over them in a flash, like a sudden tidal wave, +scorning their painfully erected defenses, driving them helplessly +before it. It had no apparent cause, save that in that moment of alarm +she had looked at him with her soul unguarded, and he, overwhelmed by +that silent revelation, had allowed his own sternly repressed secret +to flash back its breathless message. Nicholson was the first to +regain his self-control. He bent down and, picking up her work, +restored it gently to her hands. + +"You must go on with your sewing," he said. "I like seeing you work. +It completes the picture of a--home--" + +"Yes," she interrupted, in a rough, broken voice. "It is a perfect +picture, is it not? Just so, as it is--only, of course--" she laughed +as he had never heard her laugh before--"of course it's only a +tableau--it isn't real." + +Once more her head was bent over her work. He saw how with every +stitch she was fighting stubbornly for calm--fighting with all the +dogged desperation of a high-minded woman who sees herself trembling +at the edge of a bottomless abyss. He knew now for certain that her +apparent happiness was a sham and an heroic lie--that she knew what he +knew of Travers' outside life, and suffered with the intensity which +honor must suffer when linked with dishonor. He saw, with a soldier's +instinctive admiration, that she was holding her ground against the +fierce and unexpected attack of an overwhelming enemy, and that he, +who had his own battle to fight, must hold out to her a helping, +strengthening comrade's hand. + +"Lois!" he said quietly. "Lois!" + +She went on working. The name had been a test of her strength, and she +had borne it. He knew that he could go on with what he had to say. + +"Lois, we had our young enthusiasms in those old days--crazes, we will +call them--and of course, like all young enthusiasms, they are gone +for ever. But there were other things. Sometimes we used to talk very +seriously about life, do you remember? I dare say we talked nonsense +for the greater part--we were very young--but we were intensely +serious. We told each other what we thought life was, and what we +intended to make of it. It was then we had the idea of the cathedral." + +She looked up earnestly at him. + +"The cathedral? Haven't you forgotten?" + +"No. I never forgot it." + +"I thought you had. It is all such a long time ago. When I read about +you in the papers, and heard of all the wonders you had done, I was +sure you must have forgotten the chatter of your fifteen-year-old +playfellow. A man who spends his day as you did, in the saddle, and +the night in long, anxious watches, does not have time for such ideas +as we cultivated in those days." + +"You are wrong, Lois. The idea is everything. It is the mainspring of +a man's life. If I did anything wonderful, as you say, it was for the +sake of the cathedral. There was, for instance, one night which I +remember very well. A whole tribe had risen. Half my men were down +with fever, and I felt--well, pretty bad. I was a bit delirious, I +fancy, and in delirium very often the foundations of a man's character +come uppermost. The cathedral was always in my mind. I saw your half, +and it was getting on splendidly. That goaded me. I felt I had to go +on, too. So I pulled myself together and went ahead. We pulled through +somehow, and I have always felt that in that night I laid the chief +stone." + +The burning tears sprang to her eyes. + +"So all that splendid work was done for the sake of our cathedral?" + +"Partly, but not in the first place. Do you remember of what use our +cathedral was to be in the world? It wasn't merely to be a monument to +our own glory--it was to be a sheltering place for others, an example +to them, an inspiration. You said once, very rightly, that if every +here and there a human being made a cathedral out of his life, other +people would soon get ashamed of their mud-huts, and pull them down. +They would try to build cathedrals on a bigger and nobler scale than +the first one, and probably would succeed. Thus the work would go on +from one generation to another. It was an idea worthy to form the +foundations of a man's ambition. I made it mine, as I knew you had +made it yours. It strengthened me to think that every decent action +was a fresh stone to the building which in the end would stand +perfect--not to my glory, but to the glory of the whole human race." +He smiled, though his eyes remained serious. "As an Englishman, I can +not help wishing that cathedrals should be most plentiful on English +soil." + +"Do you really think that one small human life can make so much +difference?" she asked, rather bitterly. "I used to think so, in my +self-important days, but I am beginning to believe that our little +individual efforts are hopelessly lost in a sea of rubbish." + +"Our youthful conceit is more justifiable than such self-disparagement," +he answered. "I often think that humility--at any rate a certain kind--is +a questionable virtue. In lessening our own value, we lessen our own +responsibility, and our responsibility is tremendous. One life can make +the difference of a cathedral spire in a town of low-built huts or of a +snow mountain in an ugly plain. I am sure of it--and so are you. So is +everybody who thinks about it. But people do not think. It is sometimes +much more convenient to believe that one is too insignificant to have +any responsibility. But to my mind there is not a vagabond in the street +who is not directly helping on our national decay, and who might not be +building up the Empire." He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. "You +know I am not just talking, Lois. It is my life's principle which I lay +before you--mine and yours. How long is it since we have spoken of these +things? Ten years. Since then we have been building steadily at our +cathedral. We must go on." + +"How can we?" she answered wearily. "It is not our cathedral any more. +I thought you had forgotten, and--" + +"My first day in Marut I sent a message to you--a little in fun, but +with an earnest purpose. I wanted to see if you had forgotten, and I +wanted you to know that I had remembered. I told you that the +cathedral still lacked its chief spire." + +"I never got the message. It was that day Archibald asked me to be his +wife. When did you send the letter?" + +"It was not a letter but a verbal message, by Travers." + +"That afternoon?" + +"Yes, that afternoon." + +She covered her face with her hand. + +"He--he must have forgotten," she said at last. + +"Yes, he must have forgotten," he agreed quietly. + +There was a long silence. She remained motionless, but he heard her +breath being drawn in quick, painful gasps. The battle for them both +was at its height. He bent forward and took the hand that lay clenched +in her lap gently in his own. + +[Illustration: He took her hand that lay clutched in her lap.] + +"Dear little Lois, dear little comrade! We are like two architects, +you and I. We were very young when we set out on our great task, and +no doubt we have made many blunders. In the beginning we each hoped +secretly that the time would come when we should be able to crown our +work hand in hand. It was that I was thinking of when I sent my +message. Well, things have turned out differently--perhaps through our +own fault. But the cathedral must go on. Instead of one spire, as we +had hoped, there will be two spires. You will build yours, I mine. +They will be far apart, and so we of necessity must be apart, too. But +the cathedral will go on; and in the end--who knows?--it may be more +perfect than as we saw it in our first great plan." + +"But we might have built together, Adam!" + +"Yes. We might even build together now--but then it would no longer be +a cathedral. It would be a mud hovel like the rest. And that would be +wrong--wrong to the world and wrong to ourselves. Have you understood +what I mean?" + +He waited patiently, his hand still clasping hers. One single piteous +tear rolled down her cheek, but that was all, and when she looked up +at him her eyes were calm and steadfast. + +"I understand quite well what you mean," she said, "and I know that +you are right. God bless and help you." + +"And you, Lois." + +They exchanged a firm pressure. Then Nicholson rose. + +"I must be going," he said. "Will you tell Travers that I shall be +around at the office to-morrow morning? If by any chance he has any +shares going, I should be obliged if he would allot them to me." + +Lois rose also. Her face was turned toward the door. + +"If you wait one moment, you will see him yourself," she said. "I +think I hear him coming upstairs." + +She was right. The next minute the door opened quickly and Travers +entered. Evidently something unusual had happened. In one hand he held +an open telegram. His face was crimson with excitement and his lips +parted as if with a hasty announcement. But as he saw the two standing +at the table watching him, he stopped short, looking from one to the +other with a flash of amused curiosity in his eyes. + +"Hullo, you both here?" he said cheerfully. "How cozy you look. See +here, Lois, I've just had a telegram from the Rajah. He wants me to +come at once. Can you be ready to start in three days?" + +"For Marut?" A rush of color filled her pale cheeks. + +"Yes, of course. By the bye, Nicholson, that's your destination, isn't +it? We might travel together." + +"I think not," was the quiet answer. "I have orders to start next +week." + +"Well, there's no great hurry for us, I expect. Our friend, Nehal, is +of an excitable disposition. I hope you haven't had to wait long for +me, Nicholson. You said you had some business you wanted to talk over +with me." + +"Yes, it was about those shares. But if you are busy--" + +"Oh, that's all right. It won't take more than a few minutes to +settle. How much do you want to invest? I tell you, my dear fellow, +it's a splendid thing, and--" + +He was unexpectedly interrupted. He had taken out a heavy pocket-book +and was busily looking through some papers, when Lois laid her hand on +his. + +"I think Captain Nicholson is under a misapprehension, Archibald," she +said, in a low voice. "He said you had some shares to sell him, but I +remembered what you said about the mine, and I told him that there +must be some mistake. I was quite right, wasn't I?" + +Every word she had spoken sounded emphasized as though she were +striving to convey a double meaning, and the second in which husband +and wife looked at each other was to the puzzled witness a painful +eternity. With a strong perceptible effort, Travers turned away. + +"So my wife has broken the news to you?" he said, smiling. "Yes, I'm +awfully sorry. Everything good gets snapped up so confoundedly +quickly. Better luck next time. I was quite dreading disappointing +you, but Lois, as usual, has taken my disagreeable task from me." He +patted the hand which still rested on his own. "Stay and have a little +dinner with us," he added cordially, as Nicholson prepared to take his +leave. "I'd like to make up to you with a little of my best Cliquot." + +Nicholson shook his head. The impression that he stood before a veiled +and unpleasant comedy increased his desire to get away. + +"Thanks, I'm afraid I can't," he said. "I have work to do. Good +night." + +"Good night. To our next meeting in Marut!" The two men shook hands. + +"Good night, Mrs. Travers. You will be able to be your own messenger +now," Nicholson said. + +She met his glance with quiet courage. + +"They will be able to see with their own eyes that things are going +well with me," she answered simply. + +When the door closed upon Nicholson's tall form she went back to her +husband's side. He was busy consulting time-tables, and hardly seemed +aware of her approach. Only when she touched him on the arm did he +look up. + +"Well, what is it?" + +"I want to know if you are angry?" + +"What about?" + +"The shares--and Captain Nicholson. I felt it was wrong to deceive +him. He is not rich, and you told me that the mine was a failure." + +"Of course, you have every reason, no doubt, to consider your friend +before your husband," he said with a sudden outburst which he +instantly regretted. He had encouraged--nay, forced--her intimacy +with Nicholson. With what purpose? He himself hardly knew. Perhaps +somewhere at the bottom of him he was beginning to dread the honesty +of her character as an unspoken reproach. If she were less perfect in +her conduct, his own life would have seemed less blamable. Or perhaps +his motives had been more generous. He knew he had nothing to give +her--and Nicholson was a good fellow. At any rate, it was a mistake to +have betrayed even a moment's irritation. She had shrunk back from +him, but he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her. "There! Of +course I am not angry. You've lost me a few hundreds, but you're worth +it, and I dare say it was all for the best. Run and write a note to +the Colonel and say we are coming, there's a good little woman!" + +Lois turned wearily away. He had not understood her. She considered +him more than she had considered Nicholson. She had wanted to save +him from what she felt was a mean and treacherous step. But he had not +been able to understand. Nor could she have explained. Between certain +characters all real communication is an impossibility, and words no +more than sounds. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CATASTROPHE + + +The tea-room, usually the most animated portion of the Marut +club-house, had lost its cheerful appearance. The comfortable chairs +had been cleared on one side and replaced by a long green baize table +littered with papers; the doors leading on to the verandah were +closed, and a stifling atmosphere bore down upon the five occupants +who were ranged about the table in various attitudes of listless +exhaustion. + +"I can't think what we have been called here for," Mrs. Cary protested +loudly; "and from the way we have been locked in, we might be in a +state of siege. I know I shall faint in a minute. Beatrice, pass me my +salts, child." + +Her daughter obeyed mechanically, without moving her eyes, which were +fixed in front of her. Colonel Carmichael, who was seated at the far +end of the table, opposite the Rajah, smiled good-naturedly. + +"If _you_ feel yourself justified in grumbling, what about me, Mrs. +Cary?" he said. "You at least are a share-holder, and I suppose there +are some formalities to be gone through, but what I have to do with +the business I can not imagine." + +"Business!" groaned Mrs. Berry from his right. "That's the silliest +part of it all! What's the good of getting me to talk business? I +don't understand business; I never did, and never shall. Why doesn't +Mr. Travers come? I'm sure I have been waiting quite ten minutes." + +"Perhaps the Rajah can give us a clue to the mystery," the Colonel +suggested. "Rajah, don't you think the ladies could be allowed their +liberty? I can not think that their presence is so essential." + +Nehal Singh looked up. From the moment he had exchanged nothing more +than a brief salutation with the four Europeans, he had sat with his +head bent over some papers, reading, or pretending to read. The months +had brought a new expression to his face. Pain had cut her lines into +the broad forehead; anxiety met the Colonel's questioning gaze from +eyes which had once flashed happy confidence and enthusiasm. + +"I am afraid I can give you no answer, Colonel Carmichael," he said +quietly. "Since Mr. Travers has returned to Marut all control over +affairs has passed out of my hands into his. For some reason, I have +been kept in ignorance as to the progress of events, and I wait here +to-day with you as completely in the dark as any one. No doubt he will +be here in a few minutes." + +"With good news, I hope," Mrs. Cary sighed. "I also am no sort of a +business woman, but I understand enough to know that if one invests +money in an honest concern one gets interest sooner or later. And so +far the Marut Company hasn't paid me a penny piece." + +Nehal Singh started slightly, and his glance wandered to the red face +of the speaker with an expression that was akin to fear. + +"An honest concern!" he repeated. "Do you mean that--that it is not +honest?" + +Mrs. Cary beamed with recovered equanimity. + +"Good gracious! How could you suppose I should mean such a horrid +thing, dear Prince! Of course everything to which you put your hand is +hall-marked. Otherwise I should never have dreamed of investing my +money in the Marut Company." + +There was a silence. The Colonel drummed with his fingers on the +table, watching the native sentry who passed stolidly backward and +forward in front of the closed windows. Mrs. Cary fanned herself and +exchanged whispered comments with Mrs. Berry on the opposite side. +Beatrice remained motionless. From the beginning of the meeting she +had once raised her eyes--on Nehal Singh's entry--and then it had been +for no more than a second. That second had been enough. She had seen +his face. She had seen--and it was not her imagination, but a real and +bitter irony--that of all the people in the room she alone had been +the object of his quiet greeting. She knew then--for her eyes had not +lost their keenness--that the eighteen months in which they had +scarcely met had made no difference to him. He still reverenced and +loved her. For him she was still "Lakshmi," the goddess of beauty and +perfection; for him she was still the ideal, the woman of goodness and +truth and purity. Her victory over him had been complete, eternal. She +had betrayed him and retained him. Of all her triumphs over men and +circumstances this was the most perfect. Yet she sat there, white and +still, not lifting her eyes from the table, and seemingly unconscious +of all that went on about her. + +Presently a carriage drove up the avenue. They heard Travers' voice +giving some orders, and a moment later he himself entered, followed by +a Mr. Medway, his chief mining engineer. He closed the door and with a +grave bow took his place at the table. He seemed indifferent to or +unaware of the curious and somewhat anxious glances which were turned +toward him. There was something in his appearance which cast an +unpleasant chill over every one of the little assembly. Even the +Colonel, though an outsider, felt himself disagreeably impressed by +Travers' new bearing, and the good-natured banter which he had held in +readiness for the new arrival died away on his lips as he responded to +the cold, formal bow. For some minutes no one spoke. Travers was busy +arranging some papers which he had brought with him, and only when he +had laid these out to his satisfaction did he rise to address the +meeting. He held himself stiffly erect, his fingers resting lightly on +the table, his pale face turned toward the window as though he wished +to avoid addressing any one directly. The usual geniality was lacking +in his composed features. + +"Colonel Carmichael and honorable share-holders in the Marut Diamond +Company," he began, "you are no doubt wondering why I have called this +private meeting. I do so because you are the chief partakers in the +concern, and because, as my friends, I wish to offer you an +explanation which I do not feel bound to offer to the other +share-holders within and without Marut. This excuse does not hold good +for you, Colonel Carmichael, and you must feel I am encroaching +heavily on your valuable time. Nevertheless, I assure you that your +presence will assist me considerably in my difficult task." + +"I am sure I shall be delighted to do anything in my power," Colonel +Carmichael responded, "but I fear my knowledge of intricate business +details is not such as to make it of the slightest use to you." + +"The business is not intricate," Travers went on. "Nor do I propose +drawing out this meeting to any tiring length. The heat must be very +trying for the ladies present, but my wish to keep what passes +between us, at any rate for the time being, entirely secret, makes it +essential to sit in closed rooms. I will be as brief as possible. Two +years ago the Marut Diamond Company first came into existence under +the protection of our friend, Rajah Nehal Singh. For some time +previous to this event it had been my great ambition to open out a +diamond field in which, thanks to favorable reports, I sincerely +believed. My position, however, and above all my lack of personal +means, made the scheme an impossibility so far as I was concerned. +Chance brought me the pleasure and misfortune of making your +acquaintance, Rajah. I say 'misfortune,' because, as events have +turned, I can not but feel that my casual observations led you to +enter into an enterprise before which another man, if I may say so, +with more experience and less impulse, would have hesitated. + +"Your generosity and enthusiasm brought my half-conceived plans into a +reality almost before I had any clear idea as to whither we were all +drifting. You will remember, Mrs. Cary, I did my best to dissuade you +from any rash investment; and even there, as director of the company, +I felt that I was not acting with entire loyalty to the man who had +put me into that position. The responsibility of the whole matter +rested heavily on my shoulders, and grew still heavier as the circle +of share-holders without Marut increased. I felt that, should my first +hopes prove unfounded, my friends and many others would suffer losses +which they could ill afford to bear. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my +painful duty to tell you that the dreaded collapse has come. Mr. +Medway, here, the company's chief engineer and mining expert, informed +me yesterday that any continuation of the works was useless and a mere +waste of the share-holders' money. I therefore beg to announce to you +that the Marut Diamond Company Mine is definitely closed." + +The Colonel clenched his teeth half-way through the first oath he had +ever allowed himself in the presence of ladies. He was not an +unusually egoistical man, but his first thought was one of unutterable +gratitude that in the moment of strong temptation his wife had held an +obstinate hand on the purse-strings. + +The first person to speak was Mrs. Cary. She leaned half-way across +the table. + +"And my money?" she said thickly and unsteadily. "Where's my money? +Where's my money? Tell me that!" + +Travers shrugged his shoulders. + +"I fear it has gone the way of mine and of the other share-holders'," +he said. "Nor can I hold out any hopes of its coming back. The +expenses of the mine have been terribly heavy, the workmen have been +extremely well paid--extremely well paid." There was a distinct note +of reproach in his voice, though he looked at no one. + +Mrs. Cary sat down in her seat. It was a pitiful and almost terrible +sight to see her, all the florid, vulgar ostentation and sleek content +dashed out of her, leaving her with pasty cheeks and horror-stricken, +staring eyes to face the ruined future. Mrs. Berry burst into +ever-ready tears. + +"Oh!" she sobbed. "What will my husband say! I told him it was such a +good thing--it isn't my fault. What will he say!" + +The sharp, wailing tones broke through Mrs. Cary's momentary +paralysis. She sat up and brought her fat clenched fist down with a +bang upon the table. + +"You!" she half screamed at the Rajah. "You--you black swindler--you +thief--it's you who have done it--you who have ruined us all with your +wicked schemes. You baited us with this clubhouse--you pretended you +wanted to do us such a lot of good, didn't you? And all the time you +meant to feather your own nest with diamonds and the Lord knows what. +Give us back our money, you heathen swindler! For you aren't a +Christian! You pretended that, too, just as a blind--" + +Her flow of frightful coarse invectives came to an abrupt end. Colonel +Carmichael, who knew now why his presence had been required, leaned +forward and pushed her firmly down in her seat. + +"For Heaven's sake, Mrs. Cary, hold your tongue!" he expostulated, in +a rapid, emphatic undertone. "You don't know what you are saying. You +are not in England. A little more of that sort of thing, and our lives +aren't worth an hour's purchase." + +"I don't care," she retorted, with all the headlong brutality of her +origin. "It's true what I say! It's true!" + +"It is true." The interruption came from the Rajah himself. He had +risen and stood before them, very pale, but calm and composed, his +eyes fixed with haggard resolution on the furious face of his accuser. +"It is true. I am a swindler. I have ruined you all. Why should you +believe it was done unwittingly? Yet that is true also. I, like my +poor friend here whom I used as my tool, believed that I was doing the +best for you all. But I have ruined you. I have done worse than +that--I have ruined my country, my people. You have friends who will +help you in your distress, but who will help my people? I pulled them +out of their miserable homes only to cast them into deeper misery. I +have taken their pitiful savings, meaning, without the use of charity, +to increase them tenfold. I have taken everything from them. I gave a +hope, and have left them with a deeper despair. Not all my wealth--and +not a stone, not a farthing piece shall be held back from your and +their just claims upon me--will fill up the ruin of those I wished so +well. It is true--I stand before you all a dishonored man." + +There was a moment's petrified silence. Even Mrs. Cary's coarse nature +stood baffled before this pitiless, dignified self-accusal. Nor could +the Colonel find a word to say. He had been ready--knowing the native +character--to defend Mrs. Cary from the stroke of a revenging dagger. +His half-outstretched arm sank powerless before the stroke of these +few words, spoken with a calm which thinly covered a chaos of remorse +and broken-hearted grief. + +"I have a question I should like to ask you, Mr. Travers." + +There was a general uneasy start. Each shook off his brooding +considerations and turned with surprise to this unexpected speaker. It +was Beatrice, hitherto silent and apparently unmoved, who leaned +across to Travers. He himself felt the blood rise to his face. In his +absorbed state he had not noticed her presence, and now that he met +her cold eyes a curious discomfort crept over him--a discomfort that +was nearly fear. + +"I will answer your question to the best of my ability," he said +quietly. + +"The Rajah has spoken of you as his tool, and I think from your tone +that you think yourself aggrieved. In what way have you suffered? What +is your share of the losses?" + +"I have lost all I have." + +"All you have, no doubt. But your wife is very rich, and I believe has +grown richer within the last year. I am anxious to know if you intend +to follow the Rajah's generous example and meet your liabilities with +her fortune." + +The Colonel, who had been staring vacantly at her, gave a start of +recollection. + +"Yes!" he exclaimed energetically. "The settlement and Lois' own +money--what's become of it all? Has that gone, too?" + +"Of course not." Travers' hand tightened instinctively upon the arm of +his chair. "I should never have dreamed of touching what was my wife's +personal property. Nor do I intend to do so now. I am no more than the +manager of the company--I am not responsible for its liabilities. Miss +Cary's suggestion is beside the mark, and I warn her, for her own +advantage"--there was a somewhat unpleasant note of warning in his +rough voice--"not to pursue her questions further." + +Beatrice rose to her feet. She was calm and, save for the vivid color +in her cheeks, betrayed at first little of the seething storm of +indignation which rose gradually above the barriers of her self-control. +She did not look at the Rajah. She stared straight into Travers' face, +and once she pointed at him. + +"You have been good enough to threaten me," she said. "It would be +best for you to know at once that your threats are quite useless. +There is nothing you can say about me which I am not ready to say +myself--and there is nothing you can do which will prevent me from +revealing the true facts of this case. You have feathered your nest, +Mr. Travers. That is what you told me to do, and now I understand what +you meant. You saw this ruin coming at the very time that you were +encouraging every one to partake further of the company's future +success. You honored me, as a sort of accomplice, with a private piece +of advice. Thank God, I did not take it, for then I should have been +your debtor. + +"As it is, I owe you absolutely nothing--not even the wealthy husband +you promised me. There is a bottom to my depths. And even if I did owe +you something, I should not hesitate to speak. You can call me a +traitor if you like--I don't care. I am that--and I have been far +worse than that to a man who did not deserve it--and I have, anyhow, +not much reputation to lose. Besides, you have stood by without a +word and let an innocent man bear your burden, and for that alone +you have no right to claim loyalty from another." + +She turned for the first time to Nehal Singh, and met his gaze boldly and +recklessly. "Do not stand there and call yourself a dishonored man!" she +exclaimed with increasing force. "You are not dishonored. Do not call +Mr. Travers your 'tool.' He is not your tool, and never has been. You +are his tool,--his and mine!" She paused, catching her breath as she saw +him wince. Then she went on: "Don't burden yourself with the consciences +of us all, for we have not got any; and what has been done we have done +knowingly and wilfully. Do you remember that evening when you found me in +the temple? You thought it was--chance--or--or the hand of God. Why, +Mr. Travers hired one of your old servants to slip me through by the +secret path, and I had on my prettiest frock and my prettiest smile and +my prettiest ways--as I told them all afterward at a dinner-party--pious +goodness, with a relieving touch of the devil--just to tempt you out of +your cloister and make you do what we wanted. + +[Illustration: "Do not call yourself a dishonored man!"] + +"You followed like a lamb. It took five minutes to wheedle the +club-house out of you--five minutes, I think you told me, Mr. +Travers?--and the other things went just as smoothly. Do you remember +that ride we had together after Mr. Travers' dance? He had broached +the subject of the mine, but the next day something or other seemed +to have shaken your implicit belief in our integrity and general +holiness. At any rate, you asked me for my advice--my honest advice. I +gave it you. I told you to go ahead--that Mr. Travers was an angel of +goodness and perfection. That was what he suggested I should say, in a +note he had sent me an hour before. So you went ahead. You did the +dirty work for him, and took his responsibility upon your shoulders. +You have ruined a few of us incidentally, but above all things you +have ruined yourself and your people. Mr. Travers is unharmed. He has +his wife's money." + +She paused to gather her strength for a final effort. "So much for Mr. +Travers' and my partnership. I did my share of the work to shield +myself and my mother from a trouble which must now go its way. But +after that, I played my own game. I did not want to lose you--even +though I knew quite well that you cared for me, and that I should +never marry you. Months before I had made up my mind to marry a man +with a high position and money. It was just a game I was playing with +you. Even when you forced things to a head, I kept it up. I pretended +innocency and high motives--because I wanted to feel you at my +apron-strings always. We all treated you more or less badly, but I was +the worst. I fooled you--for--for--" + +"For what?" + +His voice burst from him, harsh and terrible as though it had been +torn from the bottom of a tortured soul. + +"For the fun of the thing." + +Among the seven present there was no movement, no sound. Scarcely one +seemed to breathe or be alive except the woman who stood there, her +breast heaving, a twisted smile of wild self-mockery on her ashy lips. + +Nehal Singh turned and went to the door. There he stopped and looked +back at her and the little group of which she formed the central +figure. Then he made a gesture--one single gesture. He raised his hand +high above his head and brought it down, palm downward. In that +movement there was a contempt, a scorn, a bitterness so profound that +it seemed to mingle with a terrible pity; but above all there was a +final severing, a breaking of the last link which bound them. The next +minute the door closed behind him. + +How long the silence that followed lasted no one knew. It was broken +by Mrs. Cary, who flung herself face downward on the table, and burst +into wild, uncontrollable sobs. + +"Oh, Beaty!" she moaned. "Our reputations--our good name! How could +you have told such wicked stories about yourself and poor Mr. Travers! +How could you!" + +Colonel Carmichael shook his head. He was overwhelmed by a cross-current +of conflicting emotions to which he could give no name. + +"True or not true, your--eh--statement has got us into a pretty mess, +Miss Cary," he said. "You have played with fire. Pray Heaven that it +has not set light to Marut!" + +She turned and looked at him. In that pale face upon which had sunk +the light of a sudden peace the Colonel read something which sent his +blunt instinct searching wildly for a solution. + +"I did what I had to do, Colonel Carmichael," she said. "Come, mother, +we must go home." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A FAREWELL + + +John Stafford sat at his table by the open door which looked on to the +garden. The room behind him was bare of all graceful or even tasteful +ornament--a few native weapons, captured probably during small +frontier wars, hung on the wall, but nothing else relieved its blank, +whitewashed monotony. The one photograph of his father which had once +been fastened above the mantelpiece had been taken down months before +and the hole made by the nail carefully and methodically filled and +painted over. The room typified the man in its painful order, its +painful whitewashed cleanliness, its rigid plainness. But the garden +was the symbol of the hidden possibility in him, the corner of warm, +impulsive feeling which the world had never seen. The roses grew up to +the very steps of the verandah; they had been trained to clamber over +the trellis-work as though seeking to gain entrance to his room; they +spread themselves in rich, glowing variety over the little patch of +ground, and one of their number, the most lovely and fullest blown, +hung her heavy head in splendid isolation from the vase upon his +table. + +He looked at the rose and he looked at the garden, on which lay the first +clear rays of the rising sun. In him stirred a rare wistfulness, a rare +melancholy. For to him all the gentler, softer forms of sorrow were rare. +In the last year he had suffered, but in his own way--rigidly, coldly, +unbendingly. His lips, even in the loneliness of his own room, had always +been tight closed over the smothered exclamation of pain. He had gone on +steadily and conscientiously with his work. He had never for one moment +"given way to himself," as he expressed it. But this morning he was in +the power of that strange "atmosphere"--call it what you will--which we +feel when still only half awake, and which, independent of all outward +circumstances, destines our day's mood of cheerfulness or depression. +Strangely enough, he had made no struggle against it--he had yielded to +it with a sense of inevitableness. + +The inevitable compassed him about and numbed his stern, merciless +system of self-repression. Fate, irresistible and unchangeable, +obscured the clear path of duty which he had marked out for himself, +and held him for the moment her passive victim. It was no idle fancy. +He was not a man in whose thought-world fancy played any part. Nor was +it the gloomy impression which a lonely twilight might have stamped +upon a mind already burdened with a heavy weight of trouble. The young +day spread her halo of pure sunshine over a world of color; the red +rose upon his table bowed her head toward him in the perfection of a +mature beauty which as yet hid no warning of decay. But in the +sunshine he saw the shadow; the daylight foretold the night; his eyes +saw the withered petals of the rose strewn before him. In vain he had +striven to see beyond the night to the as inevitable to-morrow; in +vain he had pictured the rose which his careful hand would bring to +replace her dead sister. The future was a blank dead wall whose +heights his foresight could not scale. + +Before him on the table lay a closed and sealed envelope. It contained +his will, which half an hour before he had signed in the presence of +two comrades. He wondered what the world would say when it was +opened--and when it would be opened. + +Presently the curtains behind him were pushed quietly on one side. He +did not turn around. He supposed it was his native servant with the +cup of coffee which formed his early morning refreshment; but the soft +step across the uncarpeted floor, the rustle of a woman's dress +startled him from his illusion. He turned and sprang to his feet. + +"Beatrice!" he exclaimed. + +She came toward him with outstretched hand. + +"May I speak with you for a few minutes, John?" she asked. + +His first impulse to protest against her reckless disregard of +propriety died away on his lips. Something on her white earnest face +touched him--all the more perhaps because it linked itself with his +own mood. He brought a chair--his own, for the room boasted of but +one. + +"Are you angry?" she asked again, looking up at him. + +"At your coming? No. At another time I might have warned you that it +was not wise, but I feel sure you would not have run so much risk +without a serious and adequate reason." + +She nodded. + +"Yes, I have a very serious reason," she said. "Have you time to +spare?" + +"All the morning." + +"Were you on duty last night?" + +"For the best part." + +"Is that why you look so tired and ill?" + +He smiled faintly. + +"I might reply with a _tu quoque_. But that doesn't matter. You have +some trouble to tell me. What has happened?" + +"You have heard nothing?" + +"Nothing whatever." He drew a stool toward him and seated himself at +her side. "You know, I am not a person to whom gossip drifts quickly." + +"It's not gossip--it's truth. The Marut Diamond Company is closed--for +good and all." + +"You mean--it has gone smash?" + +"Completely--and we with it." + +He sat silent for a moment, his head resting thoughtfully on his hand. + +"I suppose it had to come," he said at last. "Somehow, it always +seemed to me that the concern was doomed. The foundations weren't +honest. The Rajah was more or less beguiled into it--" He broke off, +turning crimson with vexation. "I beg your pardon, Beatrice. I forgot +that that was one of your--escapades." + +She looked at him steadily, and he was struck and again strangely +moved by her pale beauty. He had never seen her so gentle, so free +from her cold and mocking gaiety. + +"You must not apologize. And do not smooth over a mean, low trick with +the name of an escapade. It was not an escapade, for an escapade is +the overflow of high and reckless spirits, and what I did was done in +cold blood and with a purpose. I have come to tell you about that +purpose." + +He could not repress a movement of surprise. + +"Surely you have something more serious on your mind than that? If, as +you say, your--your financial position has been rendered precarious by +this failure of the Marut Company, would it not be advisable to hurry +on our marriage at once? Of course, in the meanwhile, if I can do +anything to help your mother--" + +She touched him gently on the arm. + +"I told you I had come on a serious matter," she said. "Won't you let +me tell you what it is?" + +"Of course, Beatrice, of course. Only I thought that was the serious +matter." + +"It is perhaps for my mother, but not for me. Things have changed +their value in my life. Just now I feel there is only one thing that +has any value at all, and that is freedom." + +"From what? I do not understand. Do you mean from debt?" + +She smiled sadly. + +"Yes, from debt. John, I want to ask you an honest question honestly. +Why did you ask me to become your wife?" + +He moved uneasily. + +"Why do you ask? Surely we understand each other." + +"We did, perhaps, but I have told you that things have changed. Won't +you answer me?" + +"I asked you--because I wished you to be my wife," he returned +stubbornly. + +"John, isn't that rather a lame equivocation?" + +He stared at her with heavy, troubled eyes. + +"Yes, it was. But the truth might hurt you, Beatrice." + +"No, it wouldn't. Nothing can hurt so much in the end as lies and +humbug." + +"Well, then, I asked you to become my wife because I believed that my +conduct had put you into a wrong and painful situation in the eyes of +the world." + +"Nothing else?" + +"I wished to prove to Lois that I could never be her husband." + +"You were afraid that she would see through your pretense to your +unchanged affection for her?" + +He started. + +"Beatrice, how do you know?" + +"Look in your own glass, John. Yours isn't the face of a man who has +shaken off an old attachment." + +He rose and stood with his back half turned to her, playing idly with +the papers on the table. + +"You are partly right," he said, after a moment's silence, "but not +quite. I have more on my shoulders than that; I have a heavy +responsibility--a debt to pay." + +"You, too?" she asked, with a return of the half-melancholy, half-bitter +smile. "Have you also a debt?" + +"Not of my making," was the answer. The voice rang suddenly stern and +harsh, and Beatrice saw him look up suddenly, as though instinctively +seeking something on the wall. "Beatrice, you must know that my +actions are dictated by motives which I can not for many reasons give +to the world. For one thing, I have given my promise; for another, my +own judgment tells me that it is better for every one that I should be +silent. But I am free to say this much to you--I am not a +dishonorable man who has played lightly with the affections of an +innocent girl. I have acted toward Lois as I believe will be for her +ultimate happiness--I have shielded her from a misfortune, a +punishment I might say, which would have fallen unjustly on her +shoulders. I have taken a burden upon my shoulders because I love +her--and I have the right to love her--but chiefly because it is my +duty to do so. Where there is sin, Beatrice, there must also be +atonement, otherwise its consequences can never be wiped out. I have +chosen to atone." + +Beatrice made no attempt to question him. Her eyes fell thoughtfully +on the gaunt face, and for the first time she appreciated to the full +what was great and generous in the nature she had condemned all too +often as narrow and unbending. Whatever else he was, this man was no +Pharisee. If he was narrow, he allowed himself no license; if +unbending, he was at least least of all relenting toward his own +conduct. She pitied him and she respected him, even though she could +not understand his motives nor guess the weight of the responsibility +which he had taken upon himself. + +"I can not reproach you with deception," she said at last. "You never +pretended that you loved me, and on my side I think the matter was +pretty clear. I intended to marry you for your position. Afterward +money added a further incentive. I saw the loss of our own fortune +coming. Travers warned me on the same day that we became engaged." + +A dark flood of indignant blood rushed to Stafford's forehead. + +"The man is an unscrupulous adventurer--no doubt he has safeguarded +his own interest carefully enough," he exclaimed bitterly. + +"You are quite right. His wife has all the money, and he has taken +care that it should be well tied up and out of reach. That is what my +father did." + +He turned to her again. + +"Your father?" + +"Yes, my father," she repeated, meeting his eyes gravely and +unflinchingly. "He tried to do what Travers did. But he wasn't quite +so clever. He ran too close to the wind, as he said himself, and they +put him in prison. He died there." + +He stood looking at her with a new interest. He too, was beginning to +understand. The bitter line about the mouth was not the expression of +a hard, unfeeling heart after all, then, and the sharp, mocking laugh +which had jarred so often on his ears was not the echo of a shallow, +worthless character? They were no more than the deep wounds left after +a rough battle with a world that knows no pity for those branded with +inherited shame and dishonor. He had misjudged her. There were +unlimited possibilities of nobility and goodness in the beautiful face +lifted to his. But he said nothing of the thoughts that flashed +through his mind. In moments of crisis we always speak of what is +least important. + +"And you managed to keep it a secret in Marut?" he asked. + +"Yes, it was a marvel, wasn't it?"--her eyes brightening with a spark +of the old fun. "We lived in a constant state of alarms and +excursions. But Mr. Travers did what he could. He knew all about it, +and he helped us." + +"On conditions, no doubt?" + +"Of course, on conditions. But he said, quite truthfully, that he had +no idea of blackmailing me. It was just a fair bargain between us." +She paused a little before she went on: "Now, you understand what +brought us to Marut, and what made you such a desirable catch. We +wanted to get clear away from the past and build up a new life. But we +couldn't. One can't build up anything on a lie." + +"That is true," he returned sternly, "and yet this is hardly a time +for you to talk of your failure. From the moment that you are my +wife--" + +"But, John, that's what I never shall be." She laughed wearily. "Do +you think a clever woman would own up to an unpleasant past to the man +she wanted to marry? And if you want to hear more detestable things +about me, ask the Colonel, ask Mrs. Berry, ask the Rajah. They know +all about me, for I told them yesterday. You don't need to look so +white and haggard. I am not going to marry you. That is what I came to +say. And I wanted to explain everything, and to ask you, if you can, +to forgive me all the trouble I have brought upon you." She rose, and +held out her hand to him. "Will you shake hands, John?" + +He stood motionless by the table, watching her with a last stirring of +the old distrust. + +"I do not understand you," he said bluntly, and in truth he did not. +This pale-faced woman with the earnest eyes deep underlined with the +marks of sleepless nights was a riddle which his stiff, conventional +imagination could not solve. + +"Is it necessary that you should understand?" she answered. "I have +not asked you to explain why, still loving her, you threw Lois over. I +believe that you had some grave reason. It could not be graver than +mine for doing what I am doing." + +"Then you mean that--it is entirely over between us?" + +"Yes, it is over between us. Your sense of justice will not have to +undergo the ordeal of forcing your sense of honor to link itself with +dishonor. To your credit, I believe you would have married me, John, +and I am grateful. But there's an end of it. I have come to say +good-by. I suppose it is absurd, but I wish we could remain friends." + +This time he took her hand in his. Now that the artificial union +between them was done away with, their real friendship for each other +came back and took its rightful place in their lives. + +"Why shouldn't we, Beatrice?" he said. "Heaven knows, we both have +need of friends." + +"It is a strange thing," she continued thoughtfully, "that, though you +are so completely my opposite, I have always liked you. Even when you +most jarred upon me with your prunes-and-prisms morality, I was never +able quite to close my heart. I wonder why?" + +He could not repress a faint amusement at the flash of her old self. + +"It has been the same with me," he said. "Even when you trod on all my +principles at once, I haven't been able to smother a sort of +shamefaced respect for you. You always seemed more worthy of respect +than--well, some of the others." + +"I suppose it is our sincerity," she said. "You are sincere in your +goodness, and I, paradoxical as it sounds, in my badness." + +"I think not," he answered, looking her gravely in the face. "I think +it is because the hidden best in both of us recognized each other and +held out the hand of friendship almost without our knowing." + +She smiled, but he saw a light sparkle in her eyes. + +"Oh, practical John, you are making fast progress in the soul's world! +Who has taught you?" + +He turned away from her back to the table and stood there gazing out +over the garden. + +"No one. It is a mood I have on today which makes me see clearer than +I have done before. Go now--if any one saw you here, you know what +Marut would say." + +"Yes, I know Marut very well by now. Not that it much matters. +Good-by. Please--I found my way alone; I can find the way out." + +She had reached the door before he stopped her. + +"Beatrice!" + +She turned. + +"What is it?" + +"I have a favor to ask of you--or rather, I have a trust to put in +your hands. It is in a sort of way the seal upon our good +understanding. There is no one else whom I could trust so much." + +She came back to his side. A new color was in her cheeks. Her eyes +looked less tired, less hopeless. + +"A trust? That would make life worth living." + +He took up the packet on the table and gave it to her. + +"That is my will. I made it afresh last night. It was witnessed this +morning. In it I have made you my executrix, with half my estate. The +other half I have left to Lois." + +"Now you must leave it all to her," she said. + +"No, I wish it to remain as it is. Besides--" He broke off hurriedly, +as though seeking to avoid an unpleasant train of thought. "Beatrice, +the world won't understand that will. Lois won't, and I pray, for the +sake of her happiness, that she may never have to--but if the time +comes when this must be put into action, I want you to give her a +message from me. Will you?" + +"Of course I will. But"--she faced him with a sudden inspired +appeal--"must you wait until you are dead to speak to her? Would it +not be better to go to her now with your message? I do not know what +has come between you both, but I know this much--all forms of pretense +are fatal--" + +He stopped her with a gesture of decision. + +"No," he said. "The secret must remain secret. It has overshadowed my +life. It has laden me with a burden of responsibility and shame which +I have determined to share with no one. I have taken it upon my +shoulders, and I shall carry it to the end. Tell Lois that I have +never once swerved in my love for her. Ask her to trust me and think +kindly of me. It is not I who have sinned against her--" + +"Sinned against her! Who has sinned against her? Do you mean me?" + +"No, not you. You also have been sinned against. I also." He sighed +wearily. "When I look about me, it seems as though not one of us has +not in turn sinned and been sinned against. It is an endless chain of +the wrong we do one another." + +She laughed, and for the first time there rang in her voice a note of +the old harshness. + +"Look at me, John. There is no turn and turn about with me. From the +beginning I have tricked and lied and fought my way through life. I +didn't care whom I hurt so long as I got through. I sinned. Who has +sinned against me?" + +"One person at least," he answered significantly. + +She caught her breath, and the hand that passed hastily across her +forehead trembled. + +"Even if it were true what you say," she said, half inaudibly, "it +does not alter the fact that we must atone for what has been done." + +"It is the justice of the world," he assented. "We must make good the +harm we do and the harm that has been done us." He threw back his +shoulders with a movement of energetic protest. "Do not let us waste +time talking. We can not help each other. All I ask is--do not forget +my message." + +She looked at him, strangely moved. + +"You talk as though you were going to die to-night," she said. + +"I talk as a man does whom death has already tapped on the shoulder +more than once of late," he answered, with grim humor. "Good-by, +Beatrice." + +"Good-by." + +He pushed his writing-table to one side so that she could pass out on +to the verandah. + +"Do not come with me farther," she said. "The carriage is waiting +outside. I would rather go alone." + +He stood and watched her as she passed lightly and quickly among the +rose-bushes. It was as though he were trying to engrave upon his mind +the memory of a lovely picture that he was never to see again,--as +though he were bidding her a final farewell. Twice she turned and +glanced back at him. Was it with the same intent, guided by the same +strange foreboding? She disappeared, and the voice of a native +orderly who had entered the room unheard recalled him to the reality. + +"A letter for you, Captain Sahib," the man said, saluting. + +Stafford took the sealed envelope and, tearing it open, ran hastily +over the contents. It was from the Colonel. The subscription, as usual +since the rupture in their relations, was cold and formal. + +"I should be glad to see you at once," Colonel Carmichael had written. +"Events occurred yesterday which I have not as yet been able to +discuss with you, but which I fear are likely to have the most serious +consequences. In the present weakened condition of our garrison, we +can afford to run no risks. Nicholson is with me here. Your presence +would simplify matters as regards forming our plans for the future." + +Stafford turned to the waiting soldier. + +"Present my compliments to the Colonel Sahib," he said. "I shall be +with him immediately." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +STAFFORD INTERVENES + + +The threatening cloud which had loomed up on the horizon had acted +wonders on Colonel Carmichael's constitution. At the last meeting of +the Marut Diamond Company he had looked like a man whose days on the +active service list were numbered. Ill-health, disappointment, and a +natural pessimism had apparently left an indelible trace upon him, and +Mrs. Carmichael's prophetic eye saw them both established in +Cheltenham or Bath, relegated to the Empire's lumber-room--unless +something happened. The something had happened. The one sound which +had the power to rouse him had broken like a clap of unheralded +thunder upon his ears. It was the call of danger, the war-note which +had brought back to him the springtime of his youth and strength. + +Stafford found him restlessly pacing backward and forward in his +narrow workroom, deep in conversation with Nicholson, who stood at the +table, his head bent over a map of Marut. Both men were in uniform, +and it seemed to Stafford that Colonel Carmichael listened to the +click of his own spurs with the pleasure of a young lieutenant. It was +no longer the sound of weary routine. It was the herald of clashing +sabres and the champing of impatient horses awaiting the charge; it +was an echo of past warlike days which were to come again. He stood +still as Stafford entered, and a flash of satisfaction passed over his +face. + +"I'm glad you have come," he said. "Whatever is to be done must be +done at once. I suppose you know nothing?" + +"Nothing," Stafford answered. "Your note was the first intimation I +have received that there was anything amiss." + +Colonel Carmichael grunted angrily. + +"Of course you know nothing," he said, resuming his restless march +about the room. "Nor did I--nor did any one. Heaven and earth, I'm +beginning to think there's something wrong in our theory that whatever +is going on under our noses must be too insignificant to be noticed! +There, Nicholson, hurry up and tell him what you know." + +Nicholson stood upright, and folding the map put it in his pocket. + +"I was in the New Bazaar last night," he began curtly. "I go there +regularly, as you know, disguised as one thing or another, just for +the sake of having a look at the people when they don't know they are +being watched. Last night there was no one there--not so much as a +child or a woman. The place was dead. I admit that I was not +particularly startled. I knew that there was a great festival at hand. +Pilgrims have been streaming in for days past, and it was quite +conceivable that some ceremony was taking place in the temple. +Curiosity fortunately led me to investigate further. Myself disguised +as a traveling fakir, I made my way to the Rajah's palace gates. +Already on the road I was joined by a hurrying stream of men and +women, principally men. My suspicions were aroused. I knew from +experience that it was not a usual crowd of pilgrims. Every man was +armed, not only with knives, but guns and revolvers. Some of them were +undoubtedly deserted sepoys who had stolen their weapons. Moreover, +they exchanged a signal which I recognized and, in order to escape +detection, imitated. It was the signal which in past generations +revealed one member of the Thug fraternity to another." + +"Thugs!" exclaimed Stafford, with a faintly skeptical smile. + +"Do not misunderstand me," Nicholson said. "I am not going to recall +to your minds the nursery horrors with which our ayahs regaled our +childish imaginations. I will only emphasize one fact. The Thugs were +not and are not merely a band of murderous and treacherous robbers. +They belong to the priesthood, they are the deputed servants of the +goddess Kali, and their task is the extermination of the enemy--of the +foreigner, that is to say--in this case, of ourselves." + +Stafford glanced at the Colonel. The latter's face was set and grave. + +"I do not for a moment suggest that the crowd with which I traveled +were Thugs," Nicholson continued. "I know that they were not. But they +had adopted the Thug sign because they had adopted the Thug mission. +Not, however, till we had passed the gates and reached the palace did +I realize the gravity of the situation. The Rajah stood on the great +steps, surrounded by a body-guard of torch-bearers. He was dressed in +full native costume, a blaze of gems, and wearing the royal insignia. +The expression on his face was something I shall not easily forget, +and at the time it was inexplicable to me. I can not describe it. I +can only say that I was instantly reminded of Milton's fallen Satan as +he stands above his followers, superb, dauntless, but tortured by +hatred, contempt and God knows what strange minglings of remorse and +anger. He greeted the crowd with the sign of death. His first words +revealed to me that his allegiance to us was at an end, and that he +meant to follow in his father's bloody footsteps." + +Stafford stretched out his hand, catching hold of the back of a chair +as if seeking support. + +"Go on!" he said sharply. + +"I have very little more to say. I did not wait, for I had heard +enough to know that Marut was in instant danger. I made my escape as +best I could, but in order to avoid notice I had to resort to +circuitous paths, and only reached here this morning." + +Colonel Carmichael brought his hand down angrily upon the table. + +"To think that the scoundrel should have been pretending friendship +all the time that he was preparing to murder us!" he exclaimed. "This +comes of trusting a native!" + +"Excuse me, Colonel," Nicholson answered, with emphasis. "I have every +reason to believe that until yesterday Nehal Singh was our sincere +ally." + +"You mean to say that he stamped an armed crowd out of the earth in +half an hour?" + +"No. That armed crowd was the silent work of years. It was the tool +which has been held ready for a long time--but not by Nehal Singh--" + +"By whom, then, in the name of all--" + +Nicholson drew out an old and faded photograph and handed it to the +Colonel. + +"Do you recognize that face?" he asked. + +"Certainly I do. It is the Rajah's father--Behar Singh. How did you +come by this?" + +"It belonged to my father. He gave it me, and I kept it as a +curiosity. Colonel, I saw that man last night at the Rajah's side." + +The photograph fluttered from the Colonel's powerless fingers. He +looked at Nicholson, and there flashed into his old eyes a terrible +primitive passion of revenge and hatred. + +"My God! He is alive--and I never knew!" + +"He is alive, Colonel. And I believe that, hidden from us all, he has been +working steadily and stealthily at the task which saw its completion last +night. So long as Nehal Singh stood on our side he could do nothing. The +people believe Nehal to be an incarnation of Vishnu, and they will only +follow where he leads. Behar knew that--probably he himself had fostered +the idea. He guessed, probably, that one day Nehal Singh would turn from +us. He waited. Last night I saw a face of devilish triumph which told its +own tale. He had not waited in vain." + +Colonel Carmichael turned to Stafford and held out his hand. For the +first time old friendship shone out of his eyes mingled with a fire of +thirsty revenge. + +"You and I have a debt to pay before we die, Stafford," he said. + +Stafford's hand touched his coldly and powerlessly. + +"I have nothing against the Rajah," he said hoarsely. "I can not carry +out a revenge against the son--" + +Colonel Carmichael interrupted him with a hard laugh. + +"They are all of a piece," he said. "Say what you will, Nicholson, +Nehal Singh is a traitor. We were fools to trust him. We are always +fools when we do not treat a native as a dangerous animal. They murder +us for our silly, sentimental confidence." + +Nicholson bent down and, picking up the photograph, replaced it in his +pocket. + +"Do you think so, Colonel?" he said significantly. "From, my +experience I have learned that you can always trust a native. You can +treat him as your friend and equal so long as the inequality is there +and obvious to him. I mean, so long as in everything--in generosity, +in courage, and in honor--he realizes that you are his superior." + +Colonel Carmichael's face darkened with anger. + +"Do you mean, perhaps, that--that we are not all that?" he demanded. + +"Surely not all of us. How many men think that any sort of conduct is +good enough to show a native? What did Behar Singh see of our honor? +He was our friend until an Englishman who had eaten and drunk his +hospitality repaid him by a dishonorable theft. What has Nehal Singh +seen of our superiority? In spite of his father's influence, he came +to us prejudiced in our favor. He saw heroes in us all, and he +trusted himself blindly in our hands. What has been the consequence? +Look at yesterday's scene, as you have described it to me, Colonel. +His best friend had proved himself a mean and treacherous swindler. +The woman whom as I judge he regarded as a saint--forgive me, +Stafford, I must be honest--no more than a heartless flirt, who had +led him on from one folly to another for the sake of a little +excitement--" + +"Rubbish!" Colonel Carmichael burst out. "What are exceptions in a +whole race?" + +"In a strange country no one is an exception, Colonel. One coward, one +thief, one drunkard is quite enough to cast the blackest slur upon the +whole nation in the eyes of another race. As sincerely as he believed +yesterday that we were all heroes, as sincerely Nehal Singh believes +to-day that there isn't an honest man among us." + +This time Colonel Carmichael made no answer. He went over to the +window and stood there frowning obstinately out over the neglected +garden. His eyes fell on the ruined bungalow, and he called Nicholson +to his side. + +"Look at that!" he said. "In that place Behar Singh murdered my best +and only friend, Steven Caruthers. I have not forgotten and I can not +forget. It has branded every native for me as a murderer. No doubt +this proves your argument. From the first I shrank from all contact +with the present Rajah. I distrusted him, and it is obvious now that +my distrust was well founded. What do you say, Stafford? You, too, +were against having anything to do with him." + +To his surprise and annoyance, Stafford did not respond. He stood +there with his hands clasping the back of the chair, his brows knitted +in painful thought. + +"Come, Stafford, what have you to say?" the Colonel repeated +impatiently. + +"I think there is a good deal in what Nicholson says," Stafford +answered, speaking as though he had only just heard that he was being +addressed. "The Rajah has not been well treated. He has a right to +feel bitter. And he seemed a fine sort of man. Without prejudice, +Colonel, one can not withhold a certain admiration for him. He has +behaved better than some of us." + +Colonel Carmichael frowned, but his sense of justice forced him to a +reluctant admission. + +"Yes, he has a few showy virtues. Yesterday, for instance. Under +the circumstances, he behaved like a gentleman and a man of honor. +Before nightfall the English share-holders in the mine got their +money back in gems and rupees--he must have pulled the palace to +pieces. In fact, everything might have gone off smoothly if it hadn't +been for that--that--" He coughed and glanced at Stafford, not without +a touch of malicious satisfaction. + +"You are alluding to Miss Cary, Colonel," Stafford said, returning his +glance with dignity, "and you are at liberty to say what you like, for +I have no longer the right to champion her. At her request, our +engagement is at an end. But as her friend I can not refrain from +saying this much--she has not spared herself, and, God knows, she also +has not been treated well." + +What memories passed before the Colonel's mind as he stood there gazing +absently in front of him! Recollections of mean and envious criticisms, +ugly underhand slanders, petty intrigue, his own shame-faced patronage! +And then the vision of a lovely, white-faced woman making her desperate +self-accusal, and of a terrible, vulgar mother trying to hold her back +with threats and pleadings! He turned at last to the two men, his own +face red and troubled. + +"I apologize," he said. "I apologize all around. I seem to have been +insulting everybody in turn. I dare say you are all right. The Rajah +may be ill-used and Miss Cary well-meaning. I don't know. And what on +earth does it matter? The fat is in the fire, and here we stand +chattering like old women about how it got there. Something must be +done. The regiment is a day's march from here, and with a company of +your Gurkhas, Nicholson, we shan't do much--scarcely hold out if they +dare attack us." + +"They will dare," Nicholson answered. "So much I know for certain, and +it will probably be to-night. I can vouch for my men, and we must do +our best until help comes. But--" He paused rather significantly. + +"But what, man? Don't you think it will come in time? I have already +telegraphed. They will be here in twenty-four hours. Surely we can +manage so long." + +"Colonel, if you had seen what I saw last night, you would not count +much on help. It isn't the rising of a few unarmed men. It is the +revolt of a fanatic, warlike nation led by a man. They call him God. +His godhead does not matter to us. As a god we have no need to fear +him; but as a man and a born leader of men, with hatred and revenge as +an incentive, armed with unlimited power, he is an enemy not to be +held at bay by a handful of Gurkhas and not to be conquered by a +regiment." + +His words had their quiet, fatal significance. Colonel Carmichael and +Stafford looked at each other. Hitherto they had faced the situation +coolly enough, with their eternal national optimism and self-confidence. +This man had wrenched down the veil, and they stood before a chasm to +which there seemed no shore, no bottom. It was the end, and they knew it. + +"You mean, then, that it is all over?" the Colonel said casually. "You +know more than either of us. You ought to be able to tell." + +"Yes, Colonel, I should judge that it was all over, unless a miracle +happens." + +"We might fight our way through." + +"On my way early this morning the roads were already guarded. They did +not recognize me, otherwise I should not be here." + +"And the women?" + +All three men had grown cool and indifferent. Death had stepped in, +and from that moment it was not seemly to show either trouble or +excitement. + +"According to my idea, the women had better be lodged here in your +bungalow," Nicholson said. "The surrounding walls make it a good place +of defense. The barracks are too open." + +The Colonel nodded. Quite unconsciously he was letting the reins of +command slip into the younger and stronger hands. + +"They must be brought over at once," he assented. "Thank Heaven most +of them have gone to the hills. Mrs. Berry and that--that other woman +had better not be told what's up. They will only make a fuss. My wife +will understand--and Lois will be all right. We must get hold of +Travers, if it is only for her sake. It would serve him right if we +left him to his fate." + +Stafford took a step forward. + +"I have a suggestion to make, Colonel," he said. + +Colonel Carmichael looked at him. Throughout the interview Stafford +had acted and spoken like a man who is weighed down by a burden of +terrible doubt and perplexity. He alone of the three men had shown the +first sign of emotion, and emotion in the face of death was for the +Colonel no better than fear. His face hardened. + +"Well," he said, "what is it?" + +"Rajah Nehal Singh is not a barbarian," Stafford began. "I believe he +would listen to reason if one of us could get hold of him. He seems to +have his country's welfare at heart, and if it was explained to what +horrible bloodshed he was leading it--" + +"There must be no cringing!" Colonel Carmichael interrupted sharply. + +"It will not be a case of cringing. We could simply put the matter +before him." + +"There is something in what Stafford says," Nicholson agreed. "From +what I know of the Rajah, he seems both reasonable and humane. He may +have yielded to his father's importunities in a fit of anger, and is +perhaps already wishing himself well out of the mess. For the women's +sake, Colonel, we ought to have a shot--and not all for the women's +sake, either. Heaven knows what this business will cost England if it +comes to a head!" + +Colonel Carmichael bit his lip impatiently. He did not recognize his +own motives of desiring a last hand-to-hand struggle. They were those +of an old man who sees Cheltenham and stagnation looming in the +distance and prays for death. But his common sense conquered the +selfish promptings. + +"Who would be likely to undertake the mission with any hope of +success?" he asked. + +"Nehal Singh and I were, toward the end, rather more than friendly," +Nicholson began. "I believe he entertained a real liking for me--" + +"If any one goes, I must!" The interruption came from Stafford. His +head was raised. He faced the two men with a stern determination. "No, +Nicholson; I know all you want to say. I have no sort of sympathy with +the natives--I haven't your power over them. But this is different. I +have a power. I may have. Let me go. If I fail, then you can try." + +"By the time you have failed it will be too late," Nicholson returned. +He was watching Stafford with almost pitying curiosity. His keen +instinct penetrated the man's strained and nervous bearing to some +conflict which seemed to have had its birth with the first mention of +Nehal Singh's name. + +"It will not be too late," Stafford answered persistently. "I ask for +an hour, Colonel. In an hour I shall know--whether--whether I have the +power." + +"Captain Stafford, are you mad!" the Colonel said sternly. "This is +not a time for experiments." + +"I ask for an hour," Stafford repeated, and there was an emphasis and +earnestness in his voice which cut short Colonel Carmichael's angry +sarcasm. "At the end of that time Nicholson can do what he likes. I am +not mad. I beg of you to ask no questions. I can not answer them. I +can only tell you that I have a great responsibility--toward you all +and toward another." + +Colonel Carmichael was silent for a moment. Stafford's manner awed and +troubled him in spite of himself. + +"Very well," he said at last. "I give you an hour. During that time we +will make preparations for the worst." He took out his watch. "It is +now eleven. At twelve the matter passes into Nicholson's hands." + +Stafford saluted. + +"I understand, Colonel." + +Nicholson accompanied him toward the door. + +"God-speed!" he said simply. Stafford hesitated, his heavy eyes +resting on the fine face of his brother-officer with an almost +passionate gratitude. + +"Thank you, Nicholson, thank you. God help me to do what is right!" + +He turned and hurried from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MURDER + + +Archibald Travers stood in his favorite attitude by the window, his +shoulder propped against the casement, his arms folded, a smile of +good-natured amusement on his healthy face. + +"My dear child," he protested, "what earthly interest can it have for +you to know the pros and cons of the business? You wouldn't +understand, and that small head would ache for a week afterward. Be +content with the outline of the thing. Of course it has all been +frightfully unfortunate. But the Rajah wasn't to be held back. He +believed the mine was going to be the making of Marut--and for a +matter of fact so did I at first, otherwise I shouldn't have put all +my money in it. The fellow had an enthusiasm and confidence which +fairly carried us off our feet. Well, it's done, and it's no use +crying about it. The best thing we can do is to clear out of Marut as +fast as we can. People are bound to be disagreeable about it." + +"The Carys are ruined too?" she asked. + +"Oh, I don't know--they have lost a bit, I suppose." His voice sounded +unpleasant. "At any rate, I'll say that for them--they behaved as +people of their extraction would behave. First the mother poured out a +torrent of abuse over the poor Rajah which would have been the envy of +a fish-wife, and then the daughter turned on me." He laughed. "It was +a most powerful scene of feminine hysterics. I was glad that you were +not there." + +Lois sat silent, her head resting on her hand, her eyes fixed +thoughtfully on the table. + +"And what are we going to do?" she asked at last. "You take the matter +so easily, but if we are really ruined--" + +He laid his hand affectionately on her shoulder. + +"_I_ am ruined, Lois. I did not say that you were. Even with your +rather low opinion of me, you could hardly have supposed that I would +touch your money. You are well enough off to do what you like. As for +me--" he squared his shoulders--"I feel quite capable of starting +things all over again." + +His tone touched her. She looked up, and her face softened. There was +nothing that could have made her happier than to have discovered in +her husband some elements of courage and sincerity. + +"Of course, Archibald, whatever is mine is yours," she said. "You must +have known that." + +"My dear generous little woman!" He bent over her and kissed her, +apparently unconscious that she instinctively drew back from his +caress. "If you really will help me, no doubt I shall build things up +again in no time, and this one blunder won't count for much. You are a +worthy comrade for a man." + +Perhaps he had accepted her offer too quickly, perhaps his tone jarred +on her as too elated, too satisfied. She got up, pushing her letters +quickly to one side. + +"You really wish us to start for Madras to-night?" + +"Yes, if you can manage it. It is important that I should get back as +soon as possible, and the business here is finished." + +"Very well. I will pack up as much as I can. The rest must be sent on +afterward." + +He let her reach the door before he stopped her again. + +"By the way, Lois, there is one thing I must ask you. I do not wish +you to have any further intercourse with that Beatrice Cary. She is +not a person with whom I should wish my wife to associate. You were +right about her--she is a bad, unscrupulous woman." + +With her hand on the curtain she turned and looked back at him. A +cloud of curious distrust passed over her pale face. + +"I never said that she was bad or unscrupulous. I do not believe that +she is. You say that now, but it was not your old opinion." + +"I suppose it is possible to see people in different and less +agreeable lights?" he retorted sharply. + +"Only too possible. But as she was never a friend of mine, and we are +leaving within the next few hours, the injunction to avoid her is +unnecessary." She paused as though listening. "I hear some one talking +to the syce," she went on hurriedly. "It sounds like Captain +Stafford's voice. Archibald"--she turned and came quickly to his +side--"please let me out of the verandah. I don't want to meet him." + +He caught her by the wrist and pushed her back. The movement was +brutal, unlike his usual gentleness, and she saw by the expression of +his face that for the moment he had lost all consciousness of what he +was doing. + +"I don't want to see him either. Go and tell him that I am not at +home--that I have started for Madras--quick! Don't stand there +staring." + +His extraordinary excitement, apparently unreasonable and entirely +opposed to his calm, easy-going habits, had the effect of setting fire +to her dormant suspicion. She wrenched herself free. + +"I am not going to tell him a lie," she said firmly. + +"Lois, you are a little fool! Do as I tell you. It isn't a lie--only a +piece of conventional humbug which everybody understands. There, +please!" His tone of entreaty was more disagreeable to her than his +roughness. All the pride and rigidity of her Puritan temperament was +up in arms against the indefinable something which it had long ago +recognized and despised. + +"It is not conventional humbug," she retorted--"not in this case. You +are lying because you are afraid, because you have a reason for not +seeing Captain Stafford which you won't tell me." + +He had not time to answer. The curtains were pushed on one side, and +Stafford entered hurriedly. He was covered with dust and looked +haggard and exhausted. He did not seem to see Lois, though she stood +immediately in front of him. His eyes passed over her head to Travers. + +"I am sorry to come in unannounced," he said, without giving either an +opportunity to speak, "but your servant was making difficulties, and I +have not a minute to lose. I have galloped every inch of the way here +from the Colonel's bungalow. I must speak to you at once, Travers, +alone." + +Lois went toward the door. As she passed him she saw him look at her +for the first time. And she went her way blinded with tears that had +no cause save in the stern, unhappy face which had flashed its message +to her. For she knew that his glance had been a message; that he had +tried to explain, and that she had not understood. The curtain fell +behind her, and Stafford crossed the room to Travers' side. + +"You have heard what has happened?" he demanded. + +Travers had resumed his old attitude of indifference. Only his eyes +betrayed the uneasiness which he was really feeling. + +"Do you mean the Rajah? No, I haven't heard anything, but if he is +making himself a nuisance, I am not surprised. I expected it." + +"Don't talk like that!" Stafford exclaimed, bringing his clenched hand +down on the table. "How dare you! Have you no sense of responsibility? +For you it was no more than a doubtful speculation, and you took care +that there were no risks; but for Marut it means--Heaven knows what it +means!" + +"Nothing!" returned Travers coolly. "Nothing to get heated about. The +Rajah feels sore, no doubt, but that will pass. And that is not my +fault. It would have been all right if Miss Cary had not--well, made +such a fool of herself, and incidentally of us all." + +Stafford gazed steadily at the man who smiled at him. He could not +understand a character so absolutely without all moral foundations. + +"You are no doubt preparing to start for Madras?" he asked, +controlling his voice with a strong effort. + +"Certainly. There is nothing more to be done here." + +"Let me tell you that you are not likely to leave Marut alive." + +Travers laughed. + +"Nonsense, my dear Captain! I am not to be frightened with nursery +tales." + +"It is not a nursery tale. I give you my word of honor that before +nightfall we shall be overwhelmed by a force a hundred times larger +than anything we can bring on the field for weeks to come." + +Travers shifted his position carelessly. Stafford had not succeeded in +frightening him. He did not believe in native rebellions. What he had +seen of the Hindu character convinced him of its fundamental +cowardice and incapability for independent action. + +"A few blank cartridges will bring the Rajah very quickly to his +senses," he assured Stafford, with perfect good-humor. "We have +nothing to be afraid of in that quarter." + +"You really think that?" Stafford demanded significantly. "Knowing +what you know, you think we have no cause to fear him?" + +Travers changed color. The uneasy flicker in his eyes returned. + +"What on earth do you mean?" + +"You know very well. You know whom we shall be fighting against." + +"Of course--a headlong, inexperienced Hindu prince--" + +"You are choosing to have a very short memory. Nehal Singh is more +than that." + +Travers stood upright. The healthy glow had died out of his cheeks. + +"Look here, Stafford," he said roughly, "what is it you want? I can +see you want something." + +"Yes. Give me back my promise. I can not keep it any longer." + +"Do you think I extort promises that I don't want kept? Are you in +earnest?" + +"Yes, terribly in earnest. Look the thing in the face, Travers. Our +lives, and, what is far more, the lives of our women and Heaven knows +how many of our countrymen, hang in the balance. If you don't believe +me, ask Nicholson." + +"I shall believe what I like!" Travers began to pace backward and +forward, his mind busy with lightning calculations. Before nightfall +they would be out of Marut. Stafford was exaggerating the danger, +perhaps for his own purposes. The whole thing was nonsense. + +"I keep you to your promise," he said obstinately. + +Stafford lifted his head. The man's natural reserve and +conventionalism were borne down by the sense of his helplessness. He +was fighting against a giant of egoism, as it seemed to him, of gross +and criminal stupidity, for the lives of untold hundreds. + +"You can not realize what you are doing," he said. "It is our one hope +of holding the Rajah's hand, and with every moment the danger is +increasing. As I came along the road I passed crowds of natives on the +way to the palace. Most of them were men from your mine, Travers, and +they had an ugly look. They did not touch me, it is true, but I +believe they are only waiting for Nehal Singh's order, and then it +will be too late. Travers, we must do everything in our power to +prevent him giving that order. I have promised Colonel Carmichael to +do what I could. At twelve I must be back, or--" + +Travers swung around. His face was livid. + +"You told him--?" + +"No, but I must. I can not keep my promise. You must set me free. I +gave it you because you told me that I was not concerned. Now I am +concerned, I dare not keep silence." + +"My dear fellow, you must--that is, if you are a man of honor." + +"Of what use is the secret to you?" + +"That is my affair. There was a time when you were anxious enough to +keep it." + +"It was for Lois' sake. The two things were bound up together. She can +not be spared any longer." + +"You think not? I am of another opinion. I put my wife's peace of mind +higher than your old-maidish alarms." Travers faced his companion with +the assurance of a man who feels that he has the whip-hand. His +experience taught him that a man of certain orthodox principles has a +very limited sphere of action. He runs in herds with hundreds of other +men of the same mould, and under given circumstances has only one +course of conduct open to him. Had Travers been in Stafford's place, +no one living could have told what he would do. But Stafford had no +choice--at least, so Travers judged. + +"You are one of honor's Pharisees, my dear fellow," he said frankly. +"You can't get out of your promise, and you know it. You cling to the +letter of the law. It is your way. You had better go back to the +Colonel and tell him to manage the Rajah in his own style." + +The clock on the table chimed the half-hour. It was ten minutes' full +gallop back to the Colonel's bungalow. Stafford set his teeth in a +white heat of despair. + +"If you have no consideration for the Station, for your own wife, for +your own country, at least consider yourself!" he exclaimed. "Are you +blind to the danger? We have scarcely fifty men, and up there are +thousands quietly waiting for the Rajah's signal. You must have seen +them with your own eyes pouring through--" + +"I saw any amount of dirty pilgrims, and got out of the way as fast as +I could," was Travers' smiling retort. + +Stafford stood baffled and helpless. For the first time he was able to +recognize and appreciate a certain type of Englishman to which he +himself to some extent belonged--an arrogant ignoramus who, encamped +behind his wall of superiority, fears nothing because he sees nothing, +and sees nothing because outside the walls there can not possibly be +anything worth looking at. Nicholson had torn down Stafford's imagined +security, and he stood aghast at his old insolent self-confidence as +reflected in Travers' smiling face. + +"To be quite honest with you," the latter went on, after a moment's +pause, "I have very little faith in our dreadful danger. Admitted that +I led the Rajah on a more than doubtful speculation, admitted that +Miss Cary went further than she need have done, it is still most +unlikely that his injured feelings are going to lead him to such a +desperate step as to enter into conflict with the whole Empire. +Believe me, Stafford, the idea is ridiculous, and I have not the least +intention of throwing up my own hard-won security--" + +It was a bad slip, and he knew it. Stafford, who had stood with his +face half averted, in an attitude of irresolution, swung round. + +"Your security?" he echoed. + +Travers shrugged his shoulders. He had made a mistake, but he saw no +reason to be afraid of Stafford or of any one in Marut. + +"I said 'my security,'" he repeated. + +Stafford clenched his fists. The expression on his gaunt, rugged face +showed that he had understood the full import of Travers' words. + +"You blackguard!" he said under his breath. + +Travers turned scarlet. + +"Mind yourself, Captain Stafford. You may find yourself outside the +door quicker than you care for it!" + +"You blackguard!" Stafford repeated furiously. "I haven't a better +name for you. You have simply humbugged me with your lies about Lois +and your devotion to her--" + +Travers strode at him. + +"How dare you!" + +"Don't bluster, Travers! It can't hide what I see. You married Lois +for her money--" + +"Hold your infernal tongue!" + +"And now you are afraid. Well, you shall have some cause." He picked +up his helmet, which lay on the table. "I gave you my promise because +you assured me it was for Lois' happiness, and I believed you. +According to my ideas, both of them were better left in ignorance. I +did not know that you had your own motives--silly fool that I am!" He +turned to hurry from the room. Travers barred his way. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"I shall tell the Colonel the truth!" + +"It will break his heart." + +"I do not believe it. Out of the way, Travers!" + +"And then?" + +"Rajah Nehal Singh shall be told." + +"Have you considered the consequences?" + +"I have." + +"Lois will be ruined!" + +"_You_ will be ruined. Lois will have my protection, thank God!" + +The two men faced each other an instant in silence. Travers' face +betrayed a curious complex emotion of desperation and shame. He had +been called a blackguard, and the word had stung like the cut of a +horse-whip. He had never believed it possible that any man should have +the right to use such a term--to him, the embodiment of geniality, +good-humor and good-nature. He did not believe even now that any +one had the right. He was not an unprincipled man--not in the sense +that he had ever consciously done wrong. He did not know what wrong +was--his one conception being an act putting him within reach of the +law; and of such an indiscretion he had never been guilty. Throughout +his scheming he had always pictured himself as a complaisant Napoleon +of finance, combining business with pleasure. His conduct toward Lois +had been based on this standpoint. He was genuinely fond of her, and is +there any law forbidding a man to lay firm hold upon his wife's money? +Yet Stafford had called him a blackguard, and Stafford was the world--the +world of respectability of which Travers had believed himself a gifted +member. For the moment the incomprehensible insult was more to him than +the coming danger to which his plans were put. + +"You look at me as though I had committed a crime!" he exclaimed, in a +tone of injured protest. + +"You have," Stafford answered steadily. "You have fooled me, playing +on my prejudices, and God knows what other weaknesses. I won't say +anything of that. I deserve my share of blame. But you have tricked +and deceived a woman. You have deceived an honorable man into a +dishonorable venture. You have brought disaster on your own country. +You are no more than a common adventurer. You are the parasite to whom +we owe all our misfortunes, and--" + +"Stafford, take care!" + +"Out of the way! I am going to put an end to it all!" + +Travers flung the excited man back. Shame is a dangerous poison in the +blood of base natures. It is merely the precursor to a state of +absolute license where self-control, self-respect are flung to the +winds and the devil is set free to work his full, unchecked will. +Travers glared at Stafford, hating his upright bearing, his upright +indignation with a violence to which murder would have been the only +true expression. + +"You are not going till I have your promise to hold your tongue!" he +said between his teeth. + +Stafford flung the other's detaining hand from him. Freed from his +laming diseased conscience, and roused to activity, he acted like a +man of lightning determination and iron will. + +"That you will never have, and you are a scoundrel to ask for it. As +you like--there are other exits than the door." He swung round and +made for the open window. + +Travers did not stop him. He stood rooted to the spot, his hand on the +revolver which he carried at his side. The revolver had not been meant +for Stafford. Travers' quick eyes had caught sight of something +creeping slowly and stealthily up the verandah steps. He had seen the +flash of a knife, and a cry of warning had rushed to his lips. The cry +was never uttered. Devil and angel fought their last battle over +Travers' drifting, rudderless nature. The word "scoundrel" had been +the devil's winning cast. + +"Go, then, and be damned to you!" Travers shrieked. + +He saw Stafford reach the verandah steps. The stalwart khaki-clad figure +was photographed on his reeling brain. He heard the clank of a sword +against the first stone step. He tried to cry out--afterward he tried +to believe that he had cried out--but it was too late. The hidden +something which had crouched behind the heavy creepers sprang up--for +a short second seemed to tower above the unconscious officer--then a +gleam of light flashed down with the black hand. Stafford flung up his +arms, swung around, and fell face downward on the verandah. There was a +short, stifled groan, and then--and then only--Travers fired. + +[Illustration: Then--and then only--Travers fired.] + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CLEARING AWAY THE RUBBISH + + +All the night following the momentous meeting of the Marut Diamond +Company Mrs. Cary had kept to her room, the door locked against her +daughter, and had sobbed and wailed in a manner befitting the victim +of a hard and undeserved fate. + +But in reality hers was the rage of a clumsy workman who has cut +himself with his own tools. Her own child, her partner and co-worker, +had upset the erection of years. She saw themselves cast out of Marut; +she saw the desolate wandering over the earth's surface, this time +without the consolation and protection of wealth. For she knew that +Beatrice's confession was to go further. Beatrice had made the +announcement of her plans quietly but firmly as they had driven home +from the club-house. + +"To-morrow everybody shall know everything there is to know," she had +said, and had remained obdurate to all her mother's commands and +pleadings. "I do consider you. I consider you even now. I mean to save +you and myself. But this time it must be in another way. Your scheming +has only brought us into deeper trouble. We must start afresh." + +"But how? But how?" her mother had said, wringing her hands in +uncontrolled despair. "Where are we to start? How are we ever going to +make people believe in us, now we have no money?" + +"It does not matter what people believe," Beatrice had replied. "With +our money and our lies we have been building mud-hovels, and now we +are going to build palaces. That's all that matters." + +Mrs. Cary had not understood. She thought Beatrice had gone mad, and +knowing that with madness, reasoning is in vain, she shut herself up +in her room, pulled down the blinds, and believed by this ostrich-like +proceeding that she could keep off the inevitable moment when they +would have to be pulled up again and the cold, pitiless reality faced. + +But Beatrice went her way undeterred. From Stafford's bungalow she +drove to the Travers'. The place was little more than an ill-cared-for +shanty, the garden overgrown with weeds, the rooms damp, ill-aired and +badly furnished, its reputation for misfortune phenomenal. Travers had +taken it as the only bungalow to be had for such a short period as he +intended to stay in Marut, and Lois had made no objection. Her energy +and determined striving after everything that was graceful and +beautiful was systematically crushed out of sight. She never +protested, never laid any difficulties in Travers' path. She seemed to +shrink into herself and live an invisible life of her own, leaving him +to go his way. She could not help him. She could build up nothing on a +character whose foundations were of shifting sand. + +And never had she been more fully convinced of her own powerlessness +and of his absolute independence than after their brief and stormy +interview before Stafford's entry. She had felt how for a moment their +two diametrically opposed natures had faced each other. She had felt a +brief joyful satisfaction in at last coming to a hand-to-hand struggle +with him; but then, as usual, with a smile and an easy word he had +eluded her. So it had always been--so it would always be. Too late she +realized that she had thrown away her life upon a man who had no need +of her devotion. Too late she realized that all sacrifices are wasted +unless the ennobling of the sacrificer's character be considered. For +true happiness, true content and goodness can not be given. They must +be self-won, or they are no more than hothouse plants which shrivel +together in the cold blast of an east wind. Lois had sacrificed herself +to bring true happiness and content and goodness into Travers' life, +and had failed. She had failed all the more signally because she had +never loved him. She had loved Stafford--extraordinary and terrible as +it seemed to her, she still loved him. She could not root him out of her +life, and though his image was overshadowed by a greater and more noble +figure he retained his place. + +The glance they had exchanged had pierced down to the very center of +her being, and if it had revealed nothing to her it had also revealed +everything. For she knew now that the strange bond which had linked +them together from the beginning united them still. Some reckless and +unscrupulous hand had sundered them outwardly, and her instinct, +guided by a hundred significant incidents, told her whose hand it +had been. She fled to her little gloomy sitting-room, with its +worn-out, tasteless furniture and drab walls, and fought her sorrow +and despair single-handed and in her own way. She had a man's dislike +for tears--though, being a woman, they came all too easily to her--and +she fought against them now with all the strength at her command, with +all the pluck which in happier days had made her so splendid a partner +in a "losing game." She had made a disastrous mistake in her life, but +it was not too late. + +The cathedral should go on in its unseen growth, and every conquered +tear, every brave smile was a fresh stone bringing it nearer to +perfection. God be thanked for the fetishes with which the less +fortunate of us are still allowed to adorn the barren walls of our +life! The cathedral, the imaginary "sheltering-place for others," was +Lois' fetish, and the thought of it and of the strong-faced man with +whom she worked in spiritual partnership was a deep, inspiring +consolation. It stood at her right hand and helped partly to overthrow +the weight of dread and evil presentiment which had borne down upon +her all too sensitive and superstitious temperament as she had left +her husband and Stafford alone. + +Thus it was that, when the curtains of her room were suddenly parted +and Beatrice stood on the threshold, she could face the new-comer with +a calm if grave demeanor. She remembered her husband's last +injunctions, but it was too late; and moreover, there was an +expression on Beatrice's face which told her that the visit was no +ordinary one. A woman's instinct is her spiritual hand feeling through +the darkness to another's soul. Beatrice and Lois watched each other +without smile or greeting. They forgot the outward formalities of life +in the suddenly aroused interest which they found in each other, in +the consciousness that in this, their first meeting alone, they were +to become closely united. + +They were indeed striking contrasts. At no time had they seemed more +so than now, as they stood there silently facing each other--Beatrice, +tall, fair with the wonderful Madonna beauty; Lois, small and dark, +the quick and fiery temperament flashing to meet the other's dignity +and apparent calm. And yet at no time had the barrier between them +been so insignificant, so slight. Beatrice advanced slowly from the +door, where she had first hesitated. + +"May I speak with you, Mrs. Travers?" she asked. + +Lois nodded, mechanically holding out her hand. Her eyes were riveted +on the other's grave face, drinking in with a real admiration a +loveliness from which the old marring lines of mockery and cynicism +had been swept away. + +"Won't you sit down?" she said gently. "You look tired and pale." + +Beatrice seemed not to hear. She took the outstretched hand between +both her own. Her head was a little bent, and as she looked full into +Lois' face her expression softened and saddened. + +"You, too, are unhappy!" she said. + +Lois made no answer. She was overwhelmed by the directness of the +statement, but still more by the change in Beatrice's voice. It +sounded low and unsteady, as though a storm of feeling lay close +beneath the surface. "Do you wonder how I know?" Beatrice went on, +after an instant's pause. + +"I don't know," Lois answered, "and for the moment we won't talk about +such things. I can't bear to see you look so--so ill. You must sit +there and let me get you something to drink. Have you walked?" + +Beatrice yielded this time to the kindly persuasion. She sank down in +the proffered chair, but she retained Lois' hand. + +"No, I drove. But I am tired. It was not easy work getting through the +crowd. They did not seem to want to let me pass. Once or twice I +thought they were going to attack me." + +Lois laughed. + +"They are only pilgrims. They come every year, and are quite harmless. +Hark at them now! There must be a band of them going past. Would you +like to watch from the verandah? It is really amusing--" + +"No, no; this is not the time for amusement. I have something else to +do. Mrs. Travers, you are very kind to me. You have the right to hate +me." + +"I--hate you? Why should I, Beatrice?" + +"You call me Beatrice. But we have never been friends." + +"Not till now." + +"Do you think we are going to be?" + +Lois drew up a stool and seated herself at Beatrice's side. Something +in the other's firm, gentle hold and in the low voice made her heart +ache. + +"I don't know. I feel as though we were already." + +"Don't feel that, because it is not possible. Mrs. Travers, do you know +who it was who came between you and John Stafford?" Lois' head sank. +"I see that you do. Yes, I did my best. I wanted his position--and +money. Are you still my friend?" + +Lois met the grave, questioning eyes with a sudden energy. + +"Yes. That is all over and past. I like you now. I liked you the +moment you entered the room. You seemed different." + +Beatrice smiled faintly. + +"And you, too, are different from any one I have ever known. Another +woman would not have been able to forgive as you have done. I have +spoiled your life. I can see that." + +Lois pressed her hand. + +"Hush! You must not say so. I am married--" + +"Lois, I have spoiled your life. I have come here to tell you the +truth, and you also must be truthful. For pity's sake, let us put lies +and humbug on one side. I am sick of them!" For a moment she seemed to +fight desperately with herself, and then she went on more quietly: "I +have spoiled your life. I have spoiled the life of a man who trusted +me. I have spoiled my own. That is what I have done in the twenty-five +years given me to work in. I have lied and cheated my way through. And +this is the end--miserable bankruptcy." + +"Yes," Lois said, nodding. "I heard about it." + +"About what? Has your husband told you?" + +"The Marut Company has failed." + +Beatrice sat silent a moment. Her free hand supported the firmly +moulded chin, her eyes were fixed thoughtfully in front of her. + +"I did not mean that sort of bankruptcy," she said at last. "That +doesn't count, Lois. I used to think it meant the worst sort of +misfortune, but it doesn't. The inner bankruptcy is worse. The loss of +self-respect, of honor, of the trust of those one--cares for--" Again +the low voice trembled dangerously, but she went on: "Don't +commiserate with me, kind-hearted little woman. I don't need your +pity--now. Bankruptcy isn't so bad. It is better than living on false +credit. When the crash is over, one picks oneself up again. Hope is +eternal, and on the ruins--" + +"One can build cathedrals," Lois interposed dreamily. + +"Yes, or palaces. But first the old rubbish must be cleared away. One +must pay one's debts. I have very many to pay. First to you, Lois--" + +"Don't! I have told you that that is all over." + +"--and then to Captain Stafford. Lois, I did want to take him away +from you, but I never succeeded. It was something else that did +it--something which I have never understood." + +"But which my husband knows?" + +Beatrice nodded. She was not there to spare Lois or herself. She was +there to tell the truth. + +"Yes, he knows. But it is a mystery which we shall never penetrate. At +any rate, I have set Captain Stafford free." + +Lois said nothing. Her thoughts were busy trying to piece together the +secret. With every moment distrust and suspicion were taking stronger +hold upon her. + +"Lois," Beatrice went on, "that is the least of it all. The worst of +all is that I can not pay my debts alone. I must go on ruining others. +I must ruin you." + +Lois stiffened. She sat upright, as though preparing herself for a +shock which she dimly anticipated. + +"Tell me what you mean," she said. + +"You remember it was I who tempted Rajah Nehal Singh into forming the +Marut Company--" + +"That is not what you want to say. It was my husband's scheme." + +"Very well, it was our scheme, if you like. At any rate, the whole +responsibility rests--or should rest--upon our shoulders. We have +ruined him, and we have ruined hundreds of others. It is only fair +that we should bear our share of the calamity." + +"And haven't we done so? You have lost all your money. That is +punishment enough. And Archie, too--" She paused, a fierce note of +defiance ringing out with her last words. Beatrice made no answer, and +the two women looked at each other in significant silence. "You don't +mean that--that it was--dishonest?" + +"I have no doubt Mr. Travers believed the mine was going to be a +success. But it has failed, and the whole burden of the failure rests +upon others, not upon him." + +"My husband is ruined, too. All his money is gone." + +"Yours remains." + +"Yes, but--" She stammered and broke off helplessly. + +Beatrice said nothing more. She saw the process of rapid thought on +her companion's working face. She knew there was no need to explain +further the careful precautions which Travers had made for his own +safety. She knew that for his wife there was only one action possible. +Lois rose to her feet. + +"You must forgive me," she said, a new and dangerous light in her dark +eyes. "I am very slow and stupid about business matters, but I +understand what you have been trying to say to me. You have pointed +out a duty to me which otherwise, in my ignorance, I might have +overlooked. My husband has incurred responsibilities which must be +met--if not by him, at any rate by me. No third person shall take his +share of the burden--certainly not the Rajah, who was no more than the +tool which my husband used. I would be glad if you would let every one +know that of course my money will go toward refunding those whom the +failure of the mine has injured." + +Beatrice rose also. She put her two hands on Lois' shoulders. + +"You needn't do it," she said. "The money is yours. It is a thing that +is done every day. The world won't say much if you stick to what is +yours." + +"It is not mine. My husband's responsibilities are my +responsibilities." She paused, and then went on quietly: "Thank you +for explaining to me. I should never have understood myself, and +Archie--no doubt dreads having to tell me that of course my money must +go, too." She looked Beatrice full in the face, and they understood +each other. There are some lies which a loyal woman must carry with +her to the grave. Beatrice bent and kissed the cold face. + +"You do right," she said. "I knew you would. That is why I came to +you. I have helped to bring down all this misfortune on Marut. I have +helped to lower us all in the eyes of those--those who used and ought +to look up to us. Now you are going to lift us out of the mire--Lois, +what was that?" + +The two women clung to each other. Hitherto there had been no sound in +the adjoining room save the regular rise and fall of two voices. Now +the startled listeners heard the report of a revolver, followed by a +sudden, absolute silence. Lois shook herself free from Beatrice's +instinctive clutch. + +"It is in my husband's room!" she said hoarsely. "Stay here! I will +go--" + +She hurried across the room and, thrusting open a curtained door, +disappeared. The next instant Beatrice heard a cry which overcame +every hesitation. Horror and despair called her in that sound, and the +next moment she followed Lois' footsteps. She did not know what she +expected to see. Afterward she believed that at the back of her mind +there had been some thought of suicide. But it was not Travers' head +that she saw pillowed against Lois' knee. Travers stood on the +verandah, the smoking pistol still in his hand, his face livid and +damp with fear. At his feet his wife was bending over the body of a +man whom Beatrice recognized with a shock of pain. + +"What has happened?" she asked breathlessly. "What has happened?" + +Travers turned and stared at her. His eyes were glazed, and for the +moment he did not seem to know who she was. + +"Captain Stafford has--been murdered!" he stammered. "He was going +down the steps when a native attacked him. I--fired, but it was too +late. Oh, thank God! Here is Colonel Carmichael!" + +True enough, it was the Colonel himself who sprang up the verandah +steps. From beyond the ill-kept garden they heard the tramp of men and +a low, continuous sound, like the threatening moan of the wind. On the +verandah reigned a complete and awestruck silence. Colonel Carmichael +bent over the unconscious man. + +"This is the beginning," he said somberly. "How did it happen?" + +"A native must have been lying in wait for him," Travers answered. "He +struck at him with this." He held out a three-inch blade in a hand +which shook like a child's. "I tried to save him, but I couldn't. The +man escaped, though I think I hit him." + +The Colonel knelt down by Lois' side, and drawing out his brandy-flask +tried to force a few drops between the purple lips. + +"We were expecting him every minute," he said, "but we couldn't wait. +The danger was too pressing. Here, man--it's all right. Look up." + +Captain Stafford's heavy eyelids had wavered. The Colonel shifted him +into a higher position, his head still resting against Lois' knee. +When the dying eyes opened they fell straight on the sweet dark face +bent over him in loving pity. + +"Lois!" he whispered faintly. "Lois--my--kiss me!" + +Lois looked up at her husband. He nodded without meeting her eyes. Her +lips rested on the chilly forehead. + +"Dear John!" + +"Lois--you--tell the Rajah----" He struggled fiercely for breath and +his raised hand pointed piteously at Travers. "Tell him--not--his +own"--The words died into a choked silence. + +"Brandy--here! He's trying to say something. What is it, man?" + +Stafford turned with a last effort, his lips parted. A second time he +pointed with a desperate insistency at Travers--then with a sudden +quick-drawn sigh he sank back, his face against Lois' shoulder. +Colonel Carmichael, who knew death too well, rose heavily to his feet. + +"It's all over," he said. "We can do nothing more for him, and we must +leave him. Come, Lois." + +His stern command roused her from her stupor of half-incredulous +sorrow. Gently she laid the lifeless head upon the cushions which +Beatrice had brought, and crossed the hands over the quiet breast. +This time she fought in vain against the blinding tears. They fell on +the face of the dead man, and, moved by an irresistible impulse, she +bent once more and kissed him. + +"God bless you, John!" Then she rose and faced her husband. "I can not +help it," she said. "He is dead." + +Travers said nothing. He was clinging to the verandah, and his face +was grey. Outside the noise and confusion had increased. They could +hear yells and imprecations, and a stone whizzed through the trees, +falling a few feet short of where the little party stood. Colonel +Carmichael shook Travers by the arm. + +"Don't stand there like that!" he said, his voice rough with contempt. +"It can't be helped, and I dare say we shan't any of us be much better +off by to-morrow. I have a patrol outside waiting to take the ladies +over to my bungalow. Mrs. Cary and Mrs. Berry are already there. There +isn't a moment to be lost. Rouse yourself and look to Lois. I will +escort Miss Cary." He turned to Beatrice with a stiff bow. "The enemy +must at least find us united." + +"The enemy!" exclaimed Beatrice sharply. + +"The Rajah is our enemy," was the bitter answer. "You and Travers best +know why." + +The two women exchanged one brief glance. Lois crossed the intervening +space and took her husband's arm. + +"Archibald," she said, slowly and emphatically, "if this trouble has +anything to do with the mine, it would be well to let the Rajah know +that we also take our share. There must be no suspicion that--that we +have not acted honorably or have shirked our responsibilities." + +He stared at her with dull, listless eyes. + +"What do you mean, Lois? He knows I haven't a brass cent." + +"But I have. And of course my money must go to refund those whom you +have unintentionally ruined." + +That roused him. He flung her on one side, with a desperate, goaded +curse. + +"Your money! How dare you! It's not your money. Half of it is mine. I +settled it on you." + +"If it is yours, I will give it back to you. You will use it as I say. +If not, I shall use it for you." + +Colonel Carmichael had reached the garden. He turned now, and there +was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. + +"That's spoken like an honorable woman, Lois!" he said. "God bless you +for it. But it's too late. Nicholson has already gone to Nehal Singh. +If he fails, there won't be any time to explain. Come on, or we shall +have to fight our way through." + +He hurried on through the garden, Beatrice at his side. Husband and +wife stood an instant alone, the body of poor Stafford between them. +Lois' face was grave and contemptuous. + +"I do not know what you have done," she said--"I do not understand +what part you played in John's life or in mine, nor how far you are +innocent or guilty of bringing about all this misfortune--but I know +this much--we shall take our share of trouble." + +"Lois, you are my wife! You have no right to go against me." + +"I have the right where my honor--where your honor--is concerned. I +have the right to refuse to commit an act of gross injustice." She +glanced down once more at the quiet face of the man who had held so +persistently upon her life and heart, and her firmly compressed lips +trembled. "Oh, Archie, was it worth while--just for a little bit of +gain? Was it worth while? We might all have been so happy!" + +He said nothing. His rage had sunk into a sullen, dogged defiance. The +roar of voices beyond the compound suddenly subsided. They heard the +Colonel's voice issuing a sharp command and the thud of grounded +rifles. + +"We must go," she said. + +He followed her down the steps, his face painfully averted from the +figure that lay motionless upon the ground. The world is but a +reflection of ourselves. The sunshine is sad or joyful according to +our moods. We read threats and promises in the smiles of others as our +own heart is hopeful or distrusting. And for Travers, with the +bloodstained hand, the poor lifeless body of his enemy had become the +towering shadow of an approaching Nemesis. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN THE TEMPLE OF VISHNU + + +Nicholson rode his horse slowly through the crowd of dark, threatening +faces. He did not hurry or show any sign of impatience, anger or fear. +In his left hand he carried a riding-whip, but he made no use of it +except as an encouragement to his well-trained charger, whose nose and +broad breast forced a passage, like a ship through the waves of a +turbulent sea, and otherwise he was absolutely unarmed. A spectator +ignorant of the truth might have taken him for an officer riding out +on some ordinary duty, so little did the weight and seriousness of his +real errand appear written on the strong face beneath the shadow of +the helmet. + +There was no opposition to his progress. His keen eyes noticed as he +passed out of the residential quarter that, on the contrary, the crowd +formed a sort of disordered escort which surged restlessly but +silently about him. One man even laid hold upon his hanging bridle and +led the horse through the less dense passages; but the action was not +a friendly one, and though no threats were uttered, Nicholson read a +passionate bitterness and distrust upon the faces that thrust +themselves across his path or sprang up unexpectedly at his knee. For +the most part they were men well known to him by sight. They belonged +to working caste whose circles had supplied Nehal Singh with his best +workmen, though here and there Nicholson caught sight of the turbaned +head of a small merchant or the naked body of a yogi. + +It was a significant fact that the worst of Marut's population--the +beggars, thieves and vagrants--was mostly lacking. These men were the +hope upon which Nehal Singh had built his Utopia, the industrious, +intelligent minority, and these were they whom he was now calling +about him by the power of personality and superstition. Nicholson knew +enough of the Hindu character to be well aware that it was not the +loss of employment nor of their small savings which had brought them +together and put their knives in their hands ready to strike. The +Hindu accepts misfortune with the languid stoicism of the fatalist; +injury and wrong rarely rouse him, especially, as in this case, when +it comes too indirectly for him to trace the real injurer. But to +touch his religion is to touch the innermost sanctuary of his being, +where are stored the hidden fires of fanatic energy, hatred and +reckless courage. And Nehal Singh was their religion, their Messiah, +the Avatar for whose coming their whole nation waited. Hitherto he had +led them in peace, and they had followed, though other influences had +been at work. + +Even in this moment he still controlled them. Nicholson felt that a +strong unseen hand held the crowd in that strange silence beneath +which rumbled and groaned the growing storm. He had seen dark hands +finger the unsheathed knives; he had seen them reluctantly fall away. +The hour had not yet come. Nehal Singh waited. For what? For him? The +idea seemed absurd, and yet, as Nicholson felt himself being swept on, +it took stronger hold upon his mind and his faint hope of success +revived. He believed that, once face to face with the prince, he would +be able to check the headlong disaster which was bearing down upon +them all. They had been friends in a curious unacknowledged way. Nehal +Singh would listen to him. He would be made to understand that one +adventurer and one heartless woman do not make a nation; that the +injury done him was far from irreparable. + +A low exclamation close at hand roused him from his rapid +considerations. He saw that the man who had hold of his horse's bridle +had turned and with one outstretched hand was pointing over the heads +of the crowd. + +"Look, Sahib, look!" + +Nicholson glanced in the direction indicated. They were passing the +site of the old Bazaar, now a black, scarred waste of machinery and +disembowelled earth over which brooded a death-like quiet. Nicholson +remembered vividly the day he had ridden there at Nehal Singh's side. +A breathless, eager humanity had worked and slaved beneath the +scorching sun, redoubling every effort as the fine commanding presence +of the young ruler appeared among them. Then the clank of busy +machinery had mingled with the shouted orders of the English +overseers, and Nehal Singh had turned to him with a grave pride and +happiness. + +"See what your people have taught my people," he said. "They have +taught them to seek their bread from the earth and to leave their +dreams. This is only the beginning. The time shall come when they +shall stand shoulder to shoulder with their white brethren!" + +How had the over-sanguine prophecy been fulfilled! The native at +Nicholson's side pointed a finger of scorn and anger at the silent, +ruined waste. + +"Devil--English devil!" he said laconically, and continued on his way. + +Nicholson's lips tightened. His own words came back to him with a new +significance: "In a strange country no one is an exception." This +Travers, this one unscrupulous fortune-hunter, heedless of everything +save his own advancement, had branded them all. He had undone, with +the help of a heedless woman, the work of generations of heroic, +honest labor. Truly the chain of individual responsibility is a long +one! + +Nicholson had left Colonel Carmichael's bungalow at twelve o'clock. +The increasing crowd and Stafford's prolonged absence had urged him to +instant and independent action. In the best of cases, he had little +faith in the brother-officer's secret mission. Stafford was not the +man to exert any influence over the native mind. He was the type of +the capable and well-meaning English officer who, excellent leader in +his own country, is of small use when face to face with Indian +problems of character and prejudice. Nicholson had judged himself the +better advocate, and having obtained the Colonel's reluctant +permission, he had at once started for the royal palace. But his +progress had been painfully slow, and he had made no effort to hurry. + +Any sign of anxiety or excitement would have looked like fear to the +suspicious, hate-filled eyes of the men who swarmed about him, and +whatever else happened, they should not see an Englishman afraid. The +knowledge that he rode there alone, the representative of his nation, +added a greater dignity, a greater firmness to his already calm and +upright bearing. It was no new situation for him--it is never an +exceptional situation in a country where Englishmen are always in the +minority--and it inspired him, as it had always done since his +earliest lieutenant days. He knew that as he acted, looked, and spoke, +so would the image of his country be stamped upon the minds of a +hundred thousand and their children's children. There was no vanity, +no self-importance in this conception of his duty. It was a stern, +unbending acceptance of his responsibility; and as in the lonely fort +upon the frontier where he had dominated, unaided, month after month, +over wild, antagonistic races, so now, unarmed and unprotected, he +dominated over the fanatic rabble by the pure force of a complete +personality. He was to all intents and purposes their prisoner, but he +rode there as their conqueror; and that most splendid triumph of all +triumphs--the unseen victory of will over will--filled him with a new +confidence and hope. + +Yet it was three o'clock before he reached the palace gates. It seemed +to him that they had deterred his progress for some unknown purpose, +and the thought of those he had left behind caused him profound +uneasiness. Native treachery was proverbial, and no doubt Nehal Singh +felt himself justified in any conduct that seemed wise to him. In any +case, there was no return. The crowd in front of Nicholson sank back +like a receding tide as he rode through the open gates and then closed +in behind, following in one dense stream as he proceeded slowly up the +splendid avenue. He felt now that he was in the hands of destiny. +Through the trees he caught sight of the palace steps where Nehal +Singh had stood the night before. No living soul moved. The whole +world seemed to have concentrated itself behind him, a grim and silent +force which was sweeping him onward--to what end he could not tell. + +Suddenly the native who still held his horse's bridle lifted his hand +as he had done before and pointed ahead. + +"Look, Sahib!" he cried. "Look!" + +Nicholson made no sign. He retained his easy attitude, one hand +loosely holding the reins, the other with the riding-whip resting +negligently on his hip. There was no change in his bronzed face: his +eyes took in the scene which an abrupt turn in the road revealed to +him with a steadfast calm, though his pulses had begun to beat +furiously. It was as though a painter with two strokes of a mighty +brush had smeared the square before the temple with a great moving +stain. Only one narrow white line reached up to the temple doorway. On +either side, right up to the gopuras and stretching far away down the +branching paths, a living mass stood and waited, their faces turned +toward him. Pilgrims they might have been, but he saw in the foremost +row men with their dark hands clasped over the muzzles of their +rifles, and every here and there the sunlight flashed back a +reflection from the cold steel at their sides. They made no sound as +he rode between them; only a soft shuffling behind him told him that +the human wall was closing in. He did not turn. His eyes passed calmly +over the watching faces, and the hands that played at their +dagger-hilts fell away as though the piercing gaze had paralyzed them. +Thus he reached the temple, where he dismounted. + +No one had told him, but he well understood that this was his +destination, and with a firm step passed into the inner court. For an +instant the sudden change from brilliant daylight to an almost +complete darkness dazzled him. He saw nothing but a moving shadow +intermingled with points of fire that glowed steadily in two long rows +up to the altar, where fell a single ray of golden sunshine. Helmet in +hand, he moved slowly forward, every nerve strung taut with suspense. +As his eyes grew accustomed to the curious half-light, he saw that the +unreal shadows were men grouped on either side behind rows of +torch-bearers. The red flare fell on their fixed, unmoved faces, and +threw weird shadows backward and forward among the massive pillars +whose capitals faded into the intensified gloom overhead. There was no +other movement, no other sound save Nicholson's own footsteps, which +echoed loud and threatening in that petrified silence. On the altar +itself a Holy Lamp burned steadily, and behind, half obliterated by a +lonely, upright figure, the great three-headed god stretched out +ghost-like arms into the sunshine that descended in a narrow ladder of +pure light to mingle with the altar fire. + +Nicholson moved on. At the altar steps he came to a halt and waited. +The figure did not stir nor seem to be aware of his presence. A +torch-bearer knelt on the lower step, and the fiery deflection threw +into plastic relief the set and pitiless features beneath the jeweled +turban. Gone was the old simplicity. The hands that lay clasped one +upon the other on the splendid scimitar were loaded with gems, and +from the turban a single diamond sparkled starlike in the changing +light. A splendid and romantic figure, truly; harmonizing with and +dominating over the mysterious background. But it was not the +splendor, nor even the stern tragedy written on the worn and haggard +face, which caused Nicholson to feel a cold hand grasp at his bold +self-confidence. It was the sudden intuitive realization that here the +battle began. He was no longer the master personality towering over a +hydra-headed multitude. Here it was a man against a man, will against +will, despair against despair. + +"Hail, Rajah Sahib!" he said in Hindustani. "Hail!" + +His voice had echoed into silence before Nehal Singh moved. Then he +lifted his hand in greeting. + +"Hail, Englishman!" + +"You know me," Nicholson went on, drawing nearer. "I am Nicholson, +Captain Nicholson of the--Gurkhas." + +"I do not know you." There was a pitiless finality in the few words +and in the gesture which accompanied them. + +Nicholson lifted his head to the light. + +"Nehal Singh, you lie. I was and am your friend." + +He heard a stir behind him, and his instinct, doubly sharpened, felt +how a dozen hands had flown to their weapons. Then again there was +silence. His eyes had not flinched in their challenge. + +"I have no friends among traitors and cowards." + +The insult left Nicholson calm. Something in the tone in which the +words were uttered, something that rang more like a broken-hearted +despair than contempt, touched him profoundly. + +"Thou hast the power to say so, Rajah," he answered quietly. "I am +alone and unarmed." + +The reproach went home to its mark. He saw the Rajah's hand tighten on +the sword-hilt and a deeper shadow pass over the handsome features. + +"Thou art right," Nehal Singh said. "I have misused my power, and that +I will not do. Whilst thou art here thou needst fear neither insult +nor danger." + +"I fear neither," was the answer. A bitter, scornful smile lifted the +corners of the set lips. + +"So thou sayest." Then, with a gesture of impatience, he went on: +"Thou hast sought me here, and it is well. I also have sought thee, +for I have a message that thou shalt carry from me to thy people. Wilt +thou bear it?" + +"Bear it thyself, Rajah, to the people with whom thou hast lived in +honor and friendship." + +"In deceit and treachery!" Nehal Singh retorted, frowning. "But enough +of that. Wilt thou bear my message?" + +"If it must be--yes." + +"It must be. Tell them first that every bond that linked us is broken. +Tell them not to count on what has been. What has been is not +forgotten, but it is written on my heart in fire and blood--it has +crossed out love and respect, pity and mercy." + +"Rajah--" + +"Hear me to the end, Englishman! I am not here to waste words with +thee--henceforward my acts shall be my words. But thou shalt not go +back and say that it is ambition or a mean revenge which has drawn my +sword from its sheath. It is not that." He paused, and the hand which +he had raised to cut short Nicholson's interruption sank slowly back +upon his sword-hilt. Then he went on, and his low-pitched voice +penetrated into the farthest corner of the silent temple: "Sahib, I +loved thy people. I loved them for their past, for their courage, +their justice, their greatness. In my boy's mind they were the heroes +of the world, and as such I worshiped them. No poison could kill my +love--it seemed a part of me, the innermost part of my soul--and when +for the first time I stood before them, face to face, it was as though +I lived, as though I had awakened from a dream. Be patient, +Englishman, for you of all others must understand that there is for me +no turning back, no yielding. Great love is sister to a greater hate, +respect to scorn. I came among you, inexperienced save in dreams, a +believing boy--fool if you will, whose folly received its punishment. +The outside of the platter was fair enough to have deceived those +wiser than I, Sahib. There were lovely women with the faces of angels, +and tall men, honest-eyed and brave-tongued. But the outside was a +lie--a lie!" He lifted his hand again in a sudden storm of tortured +passion. "The women are wantons--the men tricksters--" + +"Rajah!" The stern warning passed, but not unheeded. + +"Thou art hurt and stung," Nehal said, in a low, shaken voice. "The +truth wounds thee! For me--it was death." He hesitated again, fighting +for his self-control. "Sahib, great things are expected of a great +people. Others may cheat and swindle, others may lie and blaspheme +with God's holy secrets, others may seek their pleasures in the +earth's mire, but _they_ must stand apart. They must bear forward the +banner of righteousness, or their greatness is no more than an empty +sound--a bubble which the first bold enemy may prick. Perchance I +blinded myself wilfully, perchance I stopped my ears. The platter was +fair to my eyes, the falsehood rang like truth. Now I know. I know +that the past is all that is left you--you are a fair seeming behind +which is decay and corruption. Were I another, I would take my broken +faith to the darkest corner of the jungle and eat out my life in +despair and sorrow. But I have another task before me--my duty to my +people." + +"And that duty, Rajah--?" + +"A great people must rule mine," was the high answer. "I thought you a +great people, and I used my strength, my wealth and influence to +further your power. But you are not worthy. Who are you that dare to +assume authority over millions--you who can not rule yourselves, you +who idle away your lives in folly and self-seeking? Well may you crown +yourselves with the laurels which your fathers won! You have none of +your own--and see to it that those faded emblems from a high past are +not snatched from your palsied fingers. I at least have flung from me +a yoke which I despise. Parasites shall not feast upon my country!" + +A low murmur arose from the serried ranks and grew and deepened as +Nicholson retorted passionately: + +"Thou canst not measure thyself against an Empire!" + +"Empire against Empire!" + +"Marut is no Empire!" + +"All India shall answer me!" + +At another moment Nicholson might have smiled at so vain a boast, but +it did not seem to him vain as he faced that towering figure. There +was destiny written in the blazing eyes. So might a prophet have +called upon his nation--so might a nation, inspired by an absolute +belief, have answered him as this swaying crowd answered--with wild, +triumphant shouts. + +"We follow thee, Anointed One! Lead us, for thou art Vishnu, thou art +God!" + +"Thou hearest!" Nehal Singh said, turning to Nicholson. + +"I hear," the Englishman answered significantly. "And I know, as thou +knowest, that it is a lie. Thou art not God. Thou art a Christian." + +"No longer. How shall I believe in a God whose disciples mock His +commandments?" His voice became inaudible in the suddenly increased +confusion. + +The next instant, the torch-bearers, who guarded the open space around +the two men, were thrust violently on one side, and with a wild +scream, which rang high above the uproar, a half-naked figure rushed +up the steps and with outspread arms stood like an evil phantom at +Nehal's side. + +"He is dead!" he shrieked. "He is dead! I killed him--my knife it was +that killed him--the son of the Devil Stafford is dead--my enemy is +dead!" He swung around toward the light, his arms still raised and +Nicholson recognized, with a start of repulsion, Behar Singh's +triumphant, distorted features. "Kill!" he shrieked again. "Kill them +all, son--son--of--the--so is my revenge--". The harsh, grating voice +cracked like a steel blade that has been snapped in half. For a +breathing space Behar Singh stood there, drawn to his full height; +then he reeled and rolled with a heavy thud to the lowest step, where +he lay motionless, his grinning face frozen into a look of diabolical +joy. A slow oozing stream of blood crept over the white marble to +Nicholson's feet. The voices died into silence. Nicholson and Nehal +Singh faced each other over the dead body. + +"Thou seest," Nehal Singh said. "There is no turning back." + +"No, there is no turning back." The Englishman drew himself upright. +The light of unchangeable resolution illuminated his face and made +him, unarmed and dressed in the rigid simplicity of his uniform, a +fine and impressive contrast to the brilliant bearing of his opponent. +"Not that"--pointing to Behar Singh and speaking in clear, energetic +English--"not that has made retreat impossible. It was already +impossible before. Nehal Singh, I came here to plead with you. I +respected you and pitied you too much to allow you to bring disaster +upon yourself without an effort to save you. You say you came among us +inexperienced save in dreams. It is true. Only a dreamer could have +hoped to find perfection. We are a great people, Rajah; we have always +been great, and we shall always be. + +"And if there be corruption among us, it shall be weeded out. In times +of peace, vice and folly grow fast. Scoundrels, idlers, boasters and +fools grow side by side with prosperity; they are the weeds which +spring up on an over-cultivated soil. But war is the uprooting time of +corruption, it is the harvest-time of what is best and noblest in a +people. And that time has come. You, like your father, have learned to +despise and hate us. Perhaps you are right. You have mingled with the +scum which rises to the surface of still waters. The scum shall be +cleared away, and if it costs us the lives of our greatest, it will +not be at too high a price. We as well as you need the bitter lesson +which only disaster can teach us. We shall see our weakness face to +face, we shall root out our weeds and start afresh. You and the whole +world shall see that the soil is still rich with honor." + +A change so rapid that it was scarcely noticeable passed over the +Hindu's face. It would have been a flash of hope but for the +contradiction of the scornfully curved lips. + +"My belief is dead, Sahib." + +"It must live again." + +"Would to God that were possible!" Suddenly he leaned forward and +spoke hurriedly and in English. "Captain Nicholson, there shall be no +treachery. This is not a mutiny as in the past--it is war. And war is +between men. See that--your women are brought into safety. I give you +till midnight." + +"They can not go alone." + +Nehal Singh laughed sneeringly. + +"It is not your lives that I seek. Go with your women. No harm shall +be done you. Make good your escape, for I swear that after midnight I +shall lead my people against their enemies, and he who falls into +their hands need not hope for mercy." + +"And I also swear an oath, Rajah Nehal Singh! Not one of us will leave +Marut. The men will remain at their posts, and the women will stand by +them." + +"You are throwing away your lives." + +"They will not be thrown away. They will prove at least that I have +not boasted." + +For an instant the two men watched each other in momentous silence, as +two wrestlers each seeking to measure the other's strength. Then Nehal +Singh raised his hand in dismissal. + +"It is well, Englishman. If you have not indeed boasted, we shall meet +again." + +"We shall meet again, Rajah Sahib." + +Nicholson swung round on his heel. The crowd behind him fell back, and +with a rapid step, neither glancing to the right nor left, he strode +out of the temple into the fading sunshine. His horse was still held +in waiting, and he mounted instantly. Erect in his saddle, he faced +the frowning multitude, then rode forward, as he had come, without +haste, holding their passions in check by his own high, fearless +bearing. + +The highroad was empty as he passed through the gates. The enemy lay +behind. He set spurs to his horse and galloped headlong toward Marut. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FACE TO FACE + + +Mrs. Carmichael turned up the light with a steady hand. Her gaunt, +harsh features were expressionless. + +"Well, what news, Captain Nicholson?" she said. "You can say it +outright. I am not afraid." She turned as she spoke and looked around +her. "Are your nerves strong enough, Mrs. Berry? If not, pull yourself +together. We can only die once, and there's nothing to whimper about." + +Mrs. Berry, who sat cowering in the corner of the sofa, lifted her +grey face. The clumsy lips tried to move, but no sound came forth +except an inarticulate murmur. Mrs. Carmichael shrugged her shoulders +as one does at an irresponsible child. "Well?" she repeated. + +Nicholson came farther into the room, so that he stood within the +circle of lamp-light. In a rapid glance he had taken in the occupants, +and their attitudes were to him what symptoms are to a quick-sighted +doctor. Mrs. Cary sat in an arm-chair, bolt upright, her hands clasped +before her, her small eyes fixed straight ahead. Beatrice stood at her +side, almost in an attitude of protection, pale, but otherwise calm +and apparently indifferent. As he had entered, Lois had been preparing +some food at a side table. She now came closer, and her dark, serious +eyes rested penetratingly on his face, so that he felt that, even if +he had thought of deceiving them as to the true state of affairs, it +would have been in vain as far as she was concerned. As for Mrs. +Carmichael, she stood in her favorite position--her arms akimbo, her +chin tilted at an angle which lent her whole expression something +bulldog and defiant. The atmosphere of danger with which the little +drawing-room was filled acted differently upon each temperament, but +upon this typical soldier's wife the effect was to arouse in her all +the primitive passions, the fighting instinct, the love of struggle +against heavy odds. + +"Come!" she exclaimed, as Nicholson still remained silent. "Do you +think, because one or two of us are a bit 'nervy', that we are really +afraid? Not in the least. For my part, if I've got to die, I shall +take good care that one or two of those black heathen come with me!" +She flung open a drawer, and, taking out a revolver, thumped it +energetically upon the table. "Now then, Captain!" + +"My dear lady, I never doubted your courage," Nicholson answered, "and +my news is not so hopeless as you suppose. I spoke with Nehal Singh." +He saw Beatrice start and glance in his direction with an expression +of sudden suspense in her fine eyes. "What he said left me no option. +There could be no idea of coming to terms. At the same time it seems +that he has no desire for a general massacre. His sole ambition is to +drive us out of the country. He has given us till midnight to +escape--those who want to." + +"Does he think we are going to be got rid of as easily as that?" Mrs. +Carmichael broke in. "Do you think that I have forgotten those months +when George was fighting around Marut? Do you think I have forgotten +all the fine fellows that laid down their lives to take the place and +put an end to the disgrace of being held at bay by a horde of heathen? +And now we are to run away like sheep? Not if George listens to me!" + +"You need have no fear," Nicholson answered. "Not a man of us is going +to leave Marut alive. But you ladies--" + +"Well, what about us 'ladies'?" in a tone as though the description +had been an insult. + +"I have just told you--Nehal Singh gives you till midnight to get +away." + +Mrs. Carmichael snapped her lips together in a straight, +uncompromising line. + +"Very much obliged to His Highness, I'm sure, but I stay with the +regiment," she said. + +Nicholson could not repress a smile at this description of her +husband, but there was something more than amusement in his +brightening eyes. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael, I knew that would be your answer. But it +is my duty to ask the others--to give them their choice. There is +little hope for those who remain." He could not bring himself to turn +to the cowering figure upon the sofa. There is a shame which is not +personal, and he was passionately ashamed for that quivering bulk of +fear, for that greedy hope which he felt rather than saw creep up into +the livid face. He looked at Lois. Her head was lifted and the fiery +enthusiasm which spoke out of every line of the small dark face +transformed her from a saddened woman back to the girl who never +played a losing game but she won it, point by point, by pluck and +daring. + +"If I shan't be a bother, I wish to stay with you all," she said with +studied simplicity. But her tone was eloquent. + +"A brave comrade is always welcome," he answered. "Your husband--" He +hesitated, and then concluded in a low voice: "Your husband offered to +go with you. He is waiting outside with the horses." He avoided her +eyes, but her tone betrayed to him the pain that he had unwillingly +caused her. + +"Please tell Archie that I will not let him sacrifice himself for me. +I know that he will wish to remain, and I, too, wish to remain. We are +all English, and who knows how little or how much we are all to blame +for this disaster? We must share it together." + +Something like a sigh of relief passed Nicholson's compressed lips, +but he said nothing. In duty bound, he dared not offer encouragement +nor plead for the fulfillment of his hopes. With mixed feelings he +turned to Beatrice. Possessed as he now was of all the details of her +conduct, he could not but lay at her door the consequences of a +frivolous and heartless action. But her pitiless self-denunciation at +the meeting, her present quiet and dignity, subdued in him all scorn +and anger. Courage saluted courage as their eyes met. + +"And you, Miss Cary?" + +"Lois has already answered for me," she said. "If there was any +justice in this world, I alone should suffer; but one can never suffer +alone, it seems. The least I can do is to stand by you all." Her tone +revealed all the remorse and suffering of which human nature is +capable. It stirred in him a sudden impulsive pity. He crossed the +room with outstretched hand. + +"You are a brave woman." + +She smiled bitterly, but the color rushed to her cheeks. + +"Thank you. You have paid me the only compliment for which I care. But +it is a small thing to take one's punishment without crying. After +all, death isn't the worst." + +She saw him glance doubtfully at her mother, and she bent down to the +frozen face, speaking now gently but distinctly, as though to a +suffering invalid whose ears had been dulled with pain. + +"Mother, what do you want to do? There is still time--and Captain +Nicholson says there is no hope for those who remain. You must not be +influenced by my choice." + +Mrs. Cary looked up into her daughter's face with a perplexed frown. +She seemed scarcely to have heard what had been said to her, not even +to have been aware that any escape was possible. She felt for +Beatrice's hand, and taking it in her own, stroked it with pathetic +helplessness. + +"A bad mother!" she said absently. "Well, perhaps I was. Yes, no +doubt--and you think so, too, though you never said anything. It was +always position I wanted. Now it's all gone. What is it, dear? Why do +you look at me like that? I haven't said what I oughtn't, have I?" + +"No, no. Only Captain Nicholson wants to know--will you stay or go? We +could get some of the servants to go with you. You will be safe then." + +Mrs. Cary shook her head. + +"Are you--what are you going to do?" + +A childish smile twisted the heavy face. + +"I'd like to stay with you, Beaty. We have always stuck together, +haven't we?" She lay back with her head against Beatrice's shoulder. +"You always were so clever, Beaty. I'm sure it will be all right. +You'll see your poor mother through." The eyelids sank; she dropped +into a drowse of complete mental and physical breakdown, and for a +moment no one spoke. Mrs. Carmichael had shifted from her defiant +attitude, and her hard, set face expressed a grim satisfaction not +unmixed with pity. + +"Now, Mrs. Berry, what about you?" she said. "Captain Nicholson has +wasted enough time with you women. You must make up your mind--if +you've got one," she concluded, in a smothered undertone. + +Mrs. Berry drew herself up from her cowering position. Her teeth were +still chattering with terror, but Nicholson saw that the crisis of +panic was over. There was a curious look of obstinate resolve on the +usually weak and silly face. + +"If all the men are remaining, I suppose my husband remains, too?" she +asked. + +"Yes; he is helping Colonel Carmichael with the defenses." + +Wonderful indeed are the _volte-faces_ of which a character is +capable! Nicholson, to whom human nature was a book of revelations, +watched with a sense almost of awe this mean, petty and brainless +woman, who a moment before had been whimpering with fear, smooth out +her skirts and arrange her hair as though death were not sitting at +her elbow. + +"I am sure," she said, in a sharp voice which still trembled, "I can +do what Mrs. Cary can do. I shall stay--please tell Percy so, with my +love. And I should like to see him if possible before the end." + +Nicholson bowed to her, and for the first time in their acquaintance +the salute had a genuine significance. + +"I am proud to have such countrywomen!" he said, and then added in a +low tone as he passed Lois: "The cathedral is nearly finished." + +She nodded. + +"It could not have been better finished," she said bravely. "And you +see I was right--when there is a noble building in the midst of them, +people grow ashamed of their mud-huts. They pull them down and begin +their own cathedrals--even when it is too late." + +His eyes wandered instinctively toward the woman on the couch. + +"Yes, you were quite right." He went to the curtained doorway, where +he found Mrs. Carmichael waiting for him, a quaint figure enough with +her sleeves rolled back, her skirts tucked up above her ankles, the +revolver stuck brigand-wise in her belt. + +"I'm coming with you," she said coolly. "I can shoot as straight as +most of you, and a good deal better than George. I might be of some +use." + +"You would be of use anywhere," he returned sincerely, "but, if I may +say so, you will be of more use here. Your courage will help the +others. As for us, we have fifty of my Gurkhas, and they will do all +that can be done. I will let you know what is happening. At present +you are safest here." + +She sighed. + +"Very well. And if any one is hurt, send him around. I have plenty of +bandages." + +"Yes, of course." + +It was a merely formal offer and acceptance. Both knew that it would +be scarcely worth while to bandage men already in their full health +and strength marked out for death. Nicholson went out, closing the +door after him, and once more an absolute stoic silence fell upon the +little company. In moments of crisis, it is the strict adherence to +the habits of a lifetime which keeps the mind clear and the nerve +firm. Lois went on quietly preparing some sandwiches, which in all +probability would never be eaten, and Mrs. Carmichael resigned martial +occupation for the cutting-out of a baby's pinafore for an East-end +child whom she had under her special patronage. But her mind was +active and, stern, self-opinionated martinet that she was, she could +not altogether crush the regrets that swarmed up in this last +reckoning up of her life's activity. Better had her charity and +interest been centered on the dirty little children whom she had +indignantly tolerated on her compound! Better for them all would it +have been had each one of them sought to win the love and respect of +the subject race! Then, perhaps, they would not have been deserted in +this last hour of peril. + +Mrs. Carmichael glanced at Beatrice Cary with a fresh pricking of +conscience. What, after all, had she done to deserve the chief +condemnation? She had played with fire. Had they not all played with +fire? She had looked upon a native as a toy fit to play with, to break +and throw away. Did they not all, behind their seeming tolerance and +Christian principles, hide an equal depreciation? Was she even as bad +as some? How many men revealed to their syces their darkest moods, +their lowest passions? How many women were to their ayahs subjects for +contemptuous Bazaar gossip. They were all to blame, and this was the +harvest, the punishment for the neglect of a heavy responsibility. The +thought that she had been unjust was iron through Mrs. Carmichael's +soul, for above all things she prided herself on her fairness. She +pushed her work away and went over to Beatrice's side. Mrs. Cary's +head still rested against the aching shoulder, and Mrs. Carmichael +made a sign to let her improvize a cushion substitute. Beatrice shook +her head. + +"No, thank you," she whispered, glancing down at the flushed, sleeping +face. "We have done each other so little real service that I am glad +to be able to do even this much. I don't suppose it will be for long. +How quiet everything is!" + +Mrs. Carmichael looked at the clock on the writing-table. + +"It is not yet midnight," she said. "Probably the Rajah is keeping his +promise." Her expression relaxed a little. "Don't tire yourself," she +added bruskly to Mrs. Berry, who had been fanning the unconscious +woman's face with an improvized paper fan. "I don't think she feels +the heat." + +The missionary's wife continued her good work with redoubled energy. +It was perhaps one of the few really unselfish things which she had +ever done in the course of a pious but fundamentally selfish life, and +it gave her pleasure and courage. The knowledge that some one was +weaker than herself and needed her was new strength to her new-born +heroism. + +"It is so frightfully hot," she said half apologetically. "Why isn't +the punkah-man at work?" + +"The 'punkah-man' has bolted with the rest of them," Mrs. Carmichael +answered. "I dare say I could work it, though I have never tried." + +"It is hardly worth while to begin now," Beatrice observed, and this +simple acknowledgment that the end was at hand received no +contradiction. + +Once again the silence was unbroken, save for the soft swish of the +fan and Mrs. Cary's heavy, irregular breathing. Yet the five women who +in the full swing of their life had been diametrically opposed to one +another were now united in a common sympathy. Death, far more than a +leveler of class, is the melting-pot into which are thrown all +antagonisms, all violent discords of character. The one great fact +overshadows everything, and the petty stumbling-blocks of daily life +are forgotten. More than that still--it is the supreme moment in man's +existence when the innermost treasures or unsuspected hells are +revealed beyond all denial. And in these five women, hidden in two +cases at least beneath a mass of meanness, selfishness and +indifference, there lay an unusual power of self-sacrifice and pity. +Death was drawing near to them all, and their one thought was how to +make his coming easier for the other. When the silence grew +unbearable, it was Mrs. Carmichael who had the courage to break it +with a trivial criticism respecting the manner in which Lois was +making the sandwiches. + +"You should put the butter on before you cut them," she said tartly, +"and as little as possible. I'm quite sure it has gone rancid, and +then George won't touch them. He is so fussy about the butter." + +Mrs. Berry looked up. The perspiration of physical fear stood on her +cold forehead, but her roused will-power fought heroically and +conquered. + +"And, please, would you mind making one or two without butter?" she +said. "Percy says all Indian butter is bad. Of course, it's only an +idea of his, but men are such faddy creatures, don't you think?" + +"They wouldn't be men if they weren't--" Mrs. Carmichael had begun, +when she broke off, and the scissors that had been snipping their way +steadily through the rough linen jagged and dropped on the table. She +picked them up immediately and went on with an impatient exclamation +at her own carelessness. But the involuntary start had coincided with +a loud report from outside in the darkness, and a smothered scream. + +Lois put down her knife. + +"Won't you come and help me?" she said to Beatrice. "Your mother will +not notice that you have gone." + +Beatrice nodded, and letting the heavy head sink back among the +cushions, came over to Lois' side. + +"How brave you are!" she said in a whisper. "You seem so cool and +collected, just as though you believed your sandwiches would ever be +eaten!" + +"I am not braver than you are. Look how steady your hand is--much +steadier than mine." + +Beatrice held out her white hand and studied it thoughtfully. + +"I am not afraid," she said, "but not because I am brave. There is no +room for fear, that is all." She paused an instant, and then suddenly +the hand fell on Lois'. The two women looked at each other. "Lois, I +am so sorry." + +"For me?" + +"For you and every one. I have hurt so many. It has all been my fault. +I would give ten lives if I had them to see the harm undone. But that +isn't possible. Oh, Lois, there is surely nothing worse than helpless +remorse!" + +The hand within her own tightened in its clasp. + +"Is it ever helpless, though?" + +"I can't give the dead life--I can't give back a man's faith, can I?" + +The light of understanding deepened in Lois' eyes. + +"Beatrice--I believe I know!" + +"Yes, I see you do. Do you despise me? What does it matter if you do? +It has been my fear of the world and its opinion that helped to lead +me wrong. Isn't it a just punishment? I have ruined both our lives. +Lois, I couldn't help hearing what Captain Nicholson said to you. It +explained what you said to me about building on the ruins of the past. +That was what he did--he built a beautiful palace on me--and I wrecked +it. I failed him." + +"Have you really failed him?" + +"Lois, I don't know--I am beginning to believe not. But it is too +late. I meant to clear away the rubbish--and build. But there is no +time." + +"You have done your best." + +"Oh, if I could only save him, Lois! He was the first man I had ever +met whom I trusted, the first to trust me. I owe him everything, the +little that is good in me. It had to come to life when he believed in +it so implicitly. And he owes me ruin, outward and inward ruin." + +Lois made no answer. With a warm, impulsive gesture she put her arms +about the taller woman's neck and, drawing the beautiful face down to +her own, kissed her. Beatrice responded, and thus a friendship was +sealed--not for life but for death, whose grim cordon was with every +moment being drawn closer about them. + +The sound of firing had now grown incessant. One report followed +another at swift, irregular intervals, and each sounded like a clap of +thunder in the silent room. Mrs. Cary stirred uneasily in her sleep, a +low, scarcely audible groan escaped the parted lips, as though even in +her dreams she was being pursued by fear's pitiless phantom. Her +self-appointed nurse continued to fan her with the energy of despair, +the poor livid face twitching at every fresh threatening sound. Mrs. +Carmichael still pretended to be absorbed in her pinafore, but the +revolver lay on the table, ready to hand, and there was a look in the +steady eyes which boded ill for the first enemy who should confront +her. Lois and Beatrice continued their fruitless task. + +A woman's courage is the supreme victory of mind over matter. It is no +easy thing for a hero to sit still and helpless while death rattles +his bullet fingers against the walls and screams in voices of hate and +fury from a distance which every minute diminishes. For a woman +burdened with the disability of a high-strung nervous system, it is a +martyrdom. Yet these women, brought up on the froth of an enervating, +pleasure-seeking society, held out--held out with a martyr's courage +and constancy--against the torture of inactivity, of an imagination +which penetrated the sheltering walls out into the night where fifty +men writhed in a death-struggle with hundreds--saw every bleeding +wound, heard every smothered moan of pain, felt already the cold iron +pierce their own breasts. The hours passed, and they did not yield. +They had ceased from their incongruous tasks, and stood and waited, +wordless and tearless. + +As the first grey lights of dawn crept into the stifling room they +heard footsteps hurrying across the adjacent room, and each drew +herself upright to meet the end. Mrs. Carmichael's hand tightened over +the revolver, but it was only Mr. Berry who entered. The little +missionary, a shy, society-shunning man, noted for doing more harm +than good among the natives by his zealous bigotry and ignorance of +their prejudices, stood revealed in a new light. His face was grimed +with dirt and powder, his clothes disordered, his weak eyes bright +with the fire of battle. + +"Do not be afraid," he said quickly. "There is no immediate danger. I +have only been sent to warn you to be ready to leave the bungalow. The +front wall is shot-riddled, and the place may become indefensible at +any moment. When that time comes, you must slip out to the old +bungalow. Nicholson believes he can hold out there." + +"My husband--?" interrupted Mrs. Carmichael. + +"Your husband is safe. In fact, all three were well when I left. If I +wasn't against such things, I should say it was a splendid fight--and +every man a hero. The Rajah--" + +"The Rajah--?" + +Mr. Berry looked in stern surprise at the pale face of the speaker. + +"The Rajah has a charmed life," he said somberly. "He is always in the +front of his men--we can recognize him by his dress and figure--he is +always within range, but we can't hit him. Not that I ought to wish +his death, though it's our only chance." He put his hands distractedly +to his head. "Heaven knows, it's too hard for a Christian man! Every +time I see an enemy fall, I rejoice--and then I remember that it is my +brother--" He stopped, the expression on his face of profound trouble +giving way to active alarm. "Hush! Some one is coming!" + +A second time the door opened, and Travers rushed in. Lois saw his +face, and something in her recoiled in sick disgust. Fear, an almost +imbecilic fear, was written on the wide-open, staring eyes, and the +hand that held the revolver trembled like that of an old man. + +"Quick--out by the back way!" he stammered incoherently. "I will lock +the door--so. That will keep them off a minute. They are bound to look +for us here first. Nicholson is retiring with his men--they are going +to have a try to bring down the Rajah. It's our one chance. It may +frighten the devils--they think he's a god. I believe he is, curse +him!" All the time, he had been piling furniture against the door with +a mad and feverish energy. "Help me! Help me!" he screamed. "Why don't +you help? Do you want to be killed like sheep?" + +Lois drew him back by the arm. + +"You are wasting time," she said firmly. "Come with us! Why, you are +hurt!" + +He looked at the thin stream which trickled down the soiled white of +his coat. A silly smile flickered over his big face. + +"Oh, yes, a scratch. I hardly feel it. It isn't anything. It can't be +anything. There's nothing vital thereabouts, is there, Berry?" + +The missionary shrugged his shoulders. He had flung open the glass +doors which led on to the verandah, and the brightening dawn flooded +in upon them. + +"Come and help me carry this poor lady," he said. "We have not a +minute to lose." + +Travers tried to obey, but he had no strength, and the other thrust +him impatiently on one side. + +"Mrs. Carmichael, you are a strong woman," he appealed. Between them +they managed to bring Mrs. Cary's heavy, unconscious frame down the +steps. It was a nerve-trying task, for their progress was of necessity +a slow one, and the sound of the desperate fighting seemed to surround +them on every side. It was with a feeling of intense relief that the +little party saw Nicholson appear from amidst the trees and run toward +them. + +"That's right!" he cried. "Only be quick! They are at us on all sides +now, but my men are keeping them off until you are out of the +bungalow. The old ruin at the back of the garden is our last stand. +Carmichael is there already with a detachment, and is keeping off a +rear attack. I shall remain here." + +"Alone?" Berry asked anxiously. + +"Yes. I believe they will ransack the bungalow first. When they come, +the Rajah is sure to be at their head, and--well, it's going to be +diamond cut diamond between us two when we meet. I know the beggars +and their superstition. If I get in the first shot, they will bolt. If +_he_ does--" + +"You are going to shoot him down like a rat in a trap!" Beatrice burst +out passionately. + +The others had already hurried on. With a gentle force he urged her to +follow them. + +"Or be shot down myself," he said. "Leave me to do my duty as I think +best." + +She met his grave eyes defiantly, but perhaps some instinct told her +that he was risking his life for a poor chance--for their last chance, +for without a word she turned away, apparently in the direction which +her companions had already taken. + +As soon as she was out of sight, Nicholson recharged his smoking +revolver, and stood there quietly waiting. His trained ear heard the +firing in front of the bungalow cease. He knew then that his men were +retiring to join Colonel Carmichael, and that he stood alone, the last +barrier between death and those he loved. The sound of triumphant +shouting drew nearer; he heard the wrenching and tearing of doors +crashing down before an impetuous onslaught, the cling of steel, a +howl of sudden satisfaction. His hand tightened upon his revolver; he +stood ready to meet his enemy single-handed, to fight out the duel +between man and man. But no one came. A bewildering silence had +followed upon the last bloodthirsty cry. It was as though the hand of +death had fallen and with one annihilating blow beaten down the +approaching horde in the high tide of their victory. But of the two +this strange stillness was the more terrible. It penetrated to the +little waiting group in the old bungalow and filled them with the +chill horror of the unknown. Something had happened--that they felt. + +Lois crept to the doorway and peered out into the gathering daylight. +Here and there, half hidden behind the shelter of the trees, she could +see the khaki-clad figures of the Gurkhas, some kneeling, some +standing, their rifles raised to their dark faces, waiting like +statues for the enemy that never came. A dead, petrified world, the +only living thing the sunshine, which played in peaceful indifference +upon the scene of an old and a new tragedy! Lois thought of her +mother. By the power of an overwrought imagination she looked back +through a quarter of a century to a day of which this present was a +strange and horrible repetition. For a moment she lived her mother's +life, lived through the hours of torturing doubt and fear, and when a +stifled cry called her back to the reality and forced her to turn from +the sunlight to the dark room, it was as though the dead had risen, as +though her dreams had taken substance. She saw pale faces staring at +her; she saw on the rusty truckle-bed a figure which rose up and held +out frantic, desperate arms toward her. But it was no dream--no +phantom. Mrs. Cary, wild-eyed and distraught, struggled to rise to her +feet and come toward her. + +"Where is Beatrice?" she cried hysterically. "Where is Beatrice? I +dreamed she was dead!--It isn't true! Say it isn't true!" + +Lois hurried back. In the confusion of their retreat she had lost +sight of Beatrice, and now a cold fear froze her blood. She called her +name, adding her voice to the half-delirious mother's appeal; but +there was no answer, and as she prepared to leave the shelter of the +bungalow to go in search of the lost girl, a pair of strong hands +grasped her by the shoulders and forced her back. + +"Lois, stand back! They are coming!" + +Colonel Carmichael thrust her behind him, and an instant later she +heard the report of his revolver. There was no answering volley. A +dark, scantily-clad figure sprang through the trees, waving one hand +as though in imperative appeal. + +"Don't fire--don't fire! It's me!" + +The Colonel's still smoking revolver sank, and the supposed native +swayed toward him, only to sink a few yards farther on to the ground. +Carmichael ran to his side and lifted the fainting head against his +shoulder. + +"Good God, Geoffries! Don't say I've hit you! How on earth was I to +know!" + +"That's all right, Colonel. Only winded--don't you know--never hurried +so much in life. Have been in the midst of the beggars--just managed +to slip through. O Lor', give me something to drink, will you?" +Colonel Carmichael put his flask to the parched and broken lips. +"Thanks, that's better. We got your message, and are coming on like +fun. The regiment's only an hour off. You never saw Saunders in such a +fluster--it's his first big job, you know." He took another deep +draft, and wiped his mouth with the corner of his ragged tunic. "I +say--don't look at me, Miss Lois. I'm not fit to be seen." He laughed +hoarsely. "These clothes weren't made in Bond Street, and Webb assured +me that the fewer I had the more genuine I looked. I say, Colonel, +this is a lively business!" + +Colonel Carmichael nodded as he helped the gasping and exhausted man +into the bungalow. + +"Too lively to be talked about," he said. "I doubt if the regiment +isn't going to add itself to the general disaster." + +"Oh, rot!" was the young officer's forgetful lapse into disrespect. +"The regiment will do for the beggars all right. They didn't expect us +so soon, I fancy. Just listen! I believe I've frightened them away +already. There isn't a sound." + +Colonel Carmichael lifted his head. True enough, no living thing +seemed to move. A profound hush hung in the air, broken only by Mrs. +Cary's pitiful meanings. + +"Oh, Beatrice, Beatrice, where are you?" + +Geoffries turned his stained face to the Colonel's. + +"Beatrice! That's Miss Cary, isn't it? Anything happened to her?" + +Colonel Carmichael shrugged his shoulders with the impatience of a man +whose nerves are overstrained by anxiety. + +"I don't know--we've lost her," he said. "We must do something at +once. Heaven alone knows what has happened." + +No one indeed knew what had happened--not even the lonely man who +waited, revolver in hand, for the final encounter on whose issue hung +the fortunes of them all. + +Only one knew, and that was Beatrice herself as she stood before the +shattered doorway of the Colonel's drawing-room, amidst the debris of +wrecked, shot-riddled furniture, face to face with Nehal Singh. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HALF-LIGHT + + +Once before she had placed herself in his path, trusting to her skill, +her daring, above all, her beauty. With laughter in her heart and +cold-blooded coquetry she had chosen out the spot before the altar +where the sunlight struck burnished gold from her waving hair and lent +deeper, softening shades to her eyes. With cruel satisfaction, not +unmixed with admiration, she had seen her power successful and the +awe-struck wonder and veneration creep into his face. In the silence +and peace of the temple she had plunged reckless hands into the woven +threads of his life. Amidst the shriek of war, face to face with +death, she sought to save him. It was another woman who stood opposite +the yielding, cracking door, past whose head a half-spent bullet spat +its way, burying itself in the wall behind her,--another woman, +disheveled, forgetful of her wan beauty, trusting to no power but that +which her heart gave her to face the man she had betrayed and ruined. +Yet both in an instantaneous flash remembered that first meeting. The +drawn sword sank, point downward. He stood motionless in the shattered +doorway, holding out a hand which commanded, and obtained, a +petrified, waiting silence from the armed horde whose faces glared +hatred and the lust of slaughter in the narrow space behind. Whatever +had been his resolution, whatever the detestation and contempt which +had filled him, all sank now into an ocean of reborn pain. + +"Why are you here?" he asked sternly. "Why have you not fled?" + +"We are all here," she answered. "None of us has fled. Did you not +know that?" + +He looked about him. A flash of scorn rekindled in his somber eyes. + +"You are alone. Have they deserted you?" + +"They do not know that I am here. I crept back of my own free will--to +speak with you, Nehal." + +Both hands clasped upon his sword-hilt, erect, a proud figure of +misfortune, he stood there and studied her, half-wonderingly, +half-contemptuously. The restless forces at his back were forgotten. +They were no more to him than the pawns with which his will played +life and death. He was their god and their faith. They waited for his +word to sweep out of his path the white-faced Englishwoman who held +him checked in the full course of his victory. But he did not speak to +them, but to her, in a low voice in which scorn still trembled. + +"You are here, no doubt, to intercede for those others--or for +yourself. You see, I have learned something in these two years. It is +useless. No one can stop me now." + +"No one?" + +He smiled, and for the first time she saw a sneer disfigure his lips. + +"Not even you, Miss Cary. You have done a great deal with me--enough +perhaps to justify your wildest hopes--but you have touched the limits +of your powers and of my gullibility. Or did you think there were no +limits?" + +"I do not recognize you when you talk like that!" she exclaimed. + +"That is surprising, seeing that you have made me what I am," he +answered. Then he made a quick gesture of apology. "Forgive me, that +sounded like a reproach or a complaint. I make neither. That is not my +purpose." + +"And yet you have the right," she said, drawing a deep breath, "you +have every right, Nehal. It does not matter what the others did to +you. I know that does not count an atom in comparison to my +responsibilities. You trusted me as you trusted no one else, and I +deceived you. So you have the right to hate me as you hate no one +else. And yet--is it not something, does it not mitigate my fault a +little, that I deceived myself far, far more than I ever deceived +you?" He raised his eyebrows. There was mockery in the movement, and +she went on, desperately resolute: "I played at loving you, Nehal. I +played a comedy with you for my own purposes. And one day it ceased to +be a comedy. I did not know it. I did not know what was driving me to +tell the truth, and reveal myself to you in the ugliest light I could. +I only knew it was something in me stronger than any other impulse of +my life. I know what it is now, and you must know, too. Can't you +understand? If it had been no more than a comedy, you must have found +me out--months ago. But you never found me out. It was _I_ who told +you what I had done and who I was--" + +"Why did you tell me?" He took an involuntary step toward her. +Something in his face relaxed beneath the force of an uncontrollable +emotion. He was asking a question which had hammered at the gates of +his mind day after day and in every waking hour. "Why?" he repeated. + +"I have told you--because I had to. I had to speak the truth. I +couldn't build up my new life on an old lie. You had to know. I had +won your love by a trick. I had to show you the lowest and worst part +of myself before the best in me could grow--the best in me, which is +yours." + +"You are raving!" + +"I am not raving. You must see I am not. Look at me. I am calmer than +you, though I face certain death. I knew when I came here that the +chances were I should be killed before I even saw you, but I had to +risk that. I had to win your trust back somehow, honestly and fairly. +I can not live without your trust." + +"Beatrice!" The name escaped him almost without his knowledge. He saw +tears spring to her eyes. + +"It is true. Your love and your trust have become my life. Then I was +unworthy of both. I tried to make myself worthy. I did what I could. I +told you the truth--I threw away the only thing that mattered to me. I +could not hold your love any longer by a lie--I loved you too much!" + +For that moment the passionate energy of her words, the sincerity and +eloquence of her glance, swept back every thought of suspicion. He +stood stupefied, almost overwhelmed. Mechanically his lips formed +themselves to a few broken sentences. + +"You can not know what you are saying. You are beside yourself. Once, +in my ignorance, I believed it possible, but now I know that it could +never be. Your race despises mine--" + +"I do not care what you are nor to whom you belong!" she broke in, +exulting. "You are the man who taught me to believe that there is +something in this world that is good, that is worthy of veneration; +who awoke in me what little good I have. I love you. If I could win +you back--" + +"What then?" + +"I would follow you to the world's end!" + +"As my wife?" + +"As your wife!" + +He held out his arms toward her, impulse rising like the sun high and +splendid above the mists of distrust. It was an instant's +forgetfulness, which passed as rapidly as it had come. His arms sank +heavily to his side. + +"Have you thought what that means? If you go with me, you must leave +your people for ever." + +"I would follow you gladly." + +He shook his head. + +"You do not understand. You must leave them now--now when I go against +them." + +"No!" she broke in roughly. "You can't, Nehal, you can't. You have the +right to be bitter and angry; you have not the right to commit a +crime. And it would be a crime. You are plunging thousands into +bloodshed and ruin--" He lifted his hand, and the expression in his +eyes checked her. + +"So it is, after all, a bargain that you offer me!" he said. "You are +trying to save them. You offer a high price, but I am not a merchant. +I can not buy you, Beatrice." + +"It is not a bargain!" For the first time she faltered, taken aback by +the pitiless logic of his words. "Can't you see that? Can't you see +that, however much I loved you, I could not act otherwise than implore +you to turn back from a step that means destruction for those bound to +me by blood and country? Could I do less?" + +"No," he said slowly. + +She held out her hands to him. + +"Oh, Nehal, turn back while there is yet time! For my sake, for yours, +for us all, turn back from a bloody, cruel revenge. The power is +yours. Be generous. If we have wronged you, we have suffered and are +ready to atone. _I_ am ready to atone. I _can_ atone, because I love +you. I have spoken the truth to you. I have laid my soul bare to you +as I have done to no other being. Won't you trust me?" + +His eyes met hers with a somber, hopeless significance which cut her +to the heart. + +"I can't," he said. "I can't. That is what you have taught me--to +distrust you--and every one." + +She stood silent now, paralyzed by the finality of his words and +gesture. It was as though the shadow of her heartless folly had risen +before her and become an iron wall of unrelenting, measured +retribution against which she beat herself in vain. He lifted his head +higher, seeming to gather together his shaken powers of self-control. + +"I can not trust you," he said again, "nor can I turn back. But there +is one thing from the past which can not be changed. I love you. It +seems that must remain through all my life. And because of that love I +must save you from the death that awaits your countrymen." He smiled +in faint self-contempt. "It is not for your sake that I shall save +you; it is because I am too great a coward, and can not face the +thought that anything so horrible should come near you." He turned to +two native soldiers behind him and gave an order. When he faced +Beatrice again he saw that she held a revolver in her hand. + +"You do not understand," she said. "You say you mean to save me, but +that is not in your power. It is in your power to save us all, but not +one alone. I know what my people have resolved to do. There are weak, +frightened women among them, but not one of them will fall into your +hands alive. Whatever happens, I shall share their fate." + +Though her tone was quiet and free from all bravado, he knew that she +was not boasting. He knew, too, that she was desperate. + +"You can not force me to kill you," he said sternly. + +"I think it possible," she answered. She was breathing quickly, and +her eyes were bright with a reckless, feverish excitement. But the +hand that held the revolver pointed at the men behind him was +steady--steadier than his own. + +Nehal Singh motioned back the two natives who had advanced at his +order. + +"You play a dangerous game," he said, "and, as before, your strength +lies in my weakness--in my folly. But this time you can not win. My +word is given--to my people." + +"I shall not plead with you," she returned steadily, "and you may be +sure I shall not waver. I am not afraid to die. I had hoped to atone +for all the wrong that has been done you with my love for you, Nehal. +I had hoped that then you would turn away from this madness and become +once more our friend. To this end I have not hesitated to trample on +my dignity and pride. I have not spared myself. But you will not +listen, you are determined to go on, and I"--she caught her breath +sharply--"surely you can understand? I love you, and you have made +yourself the enemy of my country. Death is the easiest, the kindest +solution to it all." + +Nehal Singh's brows knitted themselves in the anguish of a man who +finds himself thwarted by his own nature. He tried not to believe her, +and indeed, in all her words, though they had rung like music, his +ear, tuned to suspicion, had heard the mocking undercurrent of +laughter. She had laughed at him secretly through all those months +when he had offered up to her the incense of an absolute faith, an +unshared devotion. Even now she might be laughing at him, playing on +that in him which nothing could destroy or conceal--his love for her. +And yet--! Behind him he heard the uneasy stir of impatient feet, the +hushed clash of arms. He stood between her and a certain, terrible +death. One word from him, and it would be over--his path clear. But he +could not speak that word. Treacherous and cruel as she had been, the +halo of her first glory still hung about her. He saw her as he had +first seen her--the golden image of pure womanhood--and, strange, +unreasoning contradiction of the human heart, beneath the ashes of his +old faith a new fire had kindled and with every moment burned more +brightly. Unquenchable trust fought out a death struggle with +distrust, and in that conflict her words recurred to him with poignant +significance: "Death is the easiest, the kindest solution to it all." +For him also there seemed no other escape. He pointed to the revolver. + +"For whom is that?" he asked. + +"I do not know--but I will make them kill me." + +"Why do you not shoot me, then?" he demanded, between despair and +bitterness. "That would save you all. If I fell, they would turn and +fly. They think I am Vishnu. Haven't you thought of that? I am in your +power. Why don't you make yourself the benefactress of your country? +Why don't you shoot her enemy?" + +She made no answer, but her eyes met his steadily and calmly. He +turned away, groaning. In vain he fought against it, in vain stung +himself to action by the memory of all that she had done to him. His +love remained triumphant. In that supreme moment his faith burst +through the darkness, and again he believed in her, believed in her +against reason, against the world, against the ineffaceable past, and +against himself. And it was too late. He no longer stood alone. His +word was given. + +"Have pity on me!" he said, once more facing her. "Let me save you!" + +"I should despise myself, and you would despise me--even more than you +do now. I can not do less than share the fate of those whose lives my +folly has jeopardized." + +"At least go back to them--do not stay here. Beatrice, for God's +sake!--I can not turn back. You have made me suffer enough--." He +stood before her now as an incoherent pleader, and her heart burned +with an exultation in which the thought of life and death played no +part. She knew that he still loved her. It seemed for the moment all +that mattered. + +"I can not," she said. + +"Beatrice, do not deceive yourself. Though my life is nothing to +me--though I would give it a dozen times to save you--I can not do +otherwise than go on. I may be weak, but I shall be stronger than my +weakness. My word is given!" + +He spoke with the tempestuous energy of despair. The minutes were +passing with terrible swiftness, and any moment the sea behind him +might burst its dam and sweep her and him to destruction. Already in +the distance he heard the dull clamour of voices raised in angry +remonstrance at the delay. Only those immediately about him were held +in awed silence by the power of his personality. Again Beatrice shook +her head. She stood in the doorway which opened out into the garden +where the besieged had taken refuge. There was no other way. He +advanced toward her. Instantly she raised her revolver and pointed it +at the first man behind him. + +"If I fire," she said, "not even you will be able to hold them back." + +It seemed to her that she stood like a frail wall between two +overwhelming forces--on the one side, Nehal with his thousands; on the +other, Nicholson--alone, truly, but armed with a set and pitiless +resolve. A single sentence, which had fallen upon her ears months +before, rose now out of an ocean of half-forgotten memories: +"Nicholson is the best shot in India," some one had said: "he never +misses." And still Nehal advanced. His jaws were locked, his eyes had +a red fire in them. She knew then that the hour of hesitation was +over, and that in that desperate struggle she had indeed lost. +Uncontrollable words of warning rushed to her lips. + +"Nehal--turn back! Turn back!" + +He did not understand her. He thought she was still pleading with him. + +"I can not--God have pity on us both!" + +Then she too set her lips. She could not betray the last hope of that +heroic handful of men and women behind her. He must go to his +death--and she to hers. She fired,--whether with success or not, she +never knew. In that same instant another sound broke upon their +ears--the sound of distant firing, the rattle of drums and the high +clear call of a trumpet. Nehal Singh swung around. She caught a +glimpse of his face through the smoke, and she saw something written +there which she could not understand. She only knew that his features +seemed to bear a new familiarity, as though a mask had been torn from +them, revealing the face of another man, of a man whom she had seen +before, when and where she could not tell. She had no time to analyze +her emotions nor the sense of violent shock which passed over her. She +heard Nehal Singh giving sharp, rapid orders in Hindustani. The room +emptied. She saw him follow the retreating natives. At the door he +turned and looked back at her. At no time had his love for her +revealed itself more clearly than in that last glance. + +"The English regiment has come to help you," he said. "Fate has +intervened between us this time. May we never meet again!" + +He passed out through the shattered doorway, but she stood where he +had left her, motionless, almost unconscious. It was thus Nicholson +and the Colonel found her when, a moment later, they entered the room +by the verandah. Colonel Carmichael's passionate reproaches died away +as he saw her face. + +"You must not stop here," he said. "You have frightened us all +terribly. The regiment has come and is attacking. There will be some +desperate fighting. We must all stick together." + +She caught Nicholson's eyes resting on her. She thought she read pity +and sympathy in their steady depths, and wondered if he guessed what +she had tried to do. But he said nothing, and she followed the two men +blindly and indifferently back to the bungalow. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +TRAVERS + + +They had no light. They talked in whispers, and now and again, when +the darkness grew too oppressive, they stretched out groping hands and +touched each other. They did this without explanation. Though none +complained or spoke of fear, each needed the consolation of the +other's company, and a touch was worth more than words. Mrs. Cary +alone needed nothing. She lay on the rough truckle-bed and slept. Thus +she had been for a week--a whole week of nerve-wrecking struggle +against odds which marked hope as vain. Bullets had beaten like rain +upon the walls about her, the moaning of wounded men on the other side +of the hastily constructed partition mingled unceasingly with the +cries of the ever-nearing enemy. And she had lain there quiet and +indifferent. Martins, the regiment's doctor, had looked in once at her +and had shaken his head. "In all probability she will never wake," he +had said. "Perhaps it is the kindest thing that could happen to her." +And then he had gone his way to those who needed him more. + +Mrs. Berry knelt by the bedside. Her hands were folded. She had been +praying, but exhaustion had overcome her, and her quiet, peaceful +breathing contrasted strangely with the other sounds that filled the +bungalow. Mrs. Carmichael and Beatrice sat huddled close together, +listening. They could do nothing--not even help the wounded men who +lay so close to them. Everything was in pitch darkness, and no lights +were allowed. They could not go out and help in the stern, relentless +struggle that was going on about them. They bore the woman's harder +lot of waiting, inactive, powerless, fighting the harder battle +against uncertainty and all the horrors of the imagination. + +"I am sorry the regiment has come," Mrs. Carmichael whispered. "There +is no doubt they will be massacred with the rest of us. What are a few +hundreds against thousands? It is a pity. They are such fine fellows." + +Her rough, tired voice had a ring of unconquerable pride in it. She +was thinking of the gallant charge her husband's men had made only two +weeks before; how they had broken through the wall of the enemy, and, +cheering, had rushed to meet the besieged garrison. That had been a +moment of rejoicing, transitory and deceptive. Then the wall closed in +about them again, and they knew that they were trapped. + +"Perhaps we can hold out till help comes," Beatrice said. + +She tried not to be indifferent. For the sake of her companions she +would gladly have felt some desire for life, but in truth it had no +value for her. She could think of nothing but the evil she had done +and of the atonement that had been denied her. It was to no purpose +that she worked unceasingly for the wounded. The sense of +responsibility never left her. Each moan, each death-sigh brought the +same meaning to her ear: "You have helped to do this--this is your +work." + +"No help will come," Mrs. Carmichael said, shaking her head at the +darkness. "When a whole province rises as this has done, it takes +months to organize a sufficient force, and we shan't last out many +days. I wonder what people in England are saying. How well I can see +them over their breakfast cups! Oh, dear, I mustn't think of breakfast +cups, or I shall lose my nerve." She laughed under her breath, and +there was a long silence. + +Presently the door of the bungalow opened, letting in a stream of +moonlight. It was closed instantly, and soft footfalls came over the +boarded floor. + +"Who is it?" Mrs. Carmichael whispered. + +"I--Lois," was the answer. The new-comer crept down by Beatrice's side +and leaned her head against the warm shoulder. "I am so tired," she +said faintly. "I have been with Archibald. He has been moaning so. Mr. +Berry says he is afraid mortification has set in. It is terrible." + +"Poor little woman!" Beatrice put her arm about the slender figure and +drew her closer. "Lay your head on my lap and sleep a little. You can +do no good just now." + +"Thank you. I will, if you don't mind. You will wake me if anything +happens, won't you?" + +"Yes, I promise." It gave Beatrice a sense of comfort to have Lois +near her. Very gently she passed her hand over the aching forehead, +and presently Lois fell into a sleep of absolute exhaustion. + +By mutual consent, Mrs. Carmichael and Beatrice ceased to talk, but +when suddenly there was a movement close to them, and a dim light +flashed over the partition, they exchanged a glance of meaning. + +"That is my husband," Mrs. Carmichael whispered. "Something is going +to happen. Listen!" + +She was not wrong in her supposition. The Colonel had entered the next +room, followed by Nicholson and Saunders, and had closed the door +carefully after him. All three men carried lanterns. They glanced +instinctively at the wooden partition which divided them from the four +women, but Carmichael shook his head. + +"It's all right," he said. "They must be fast asleep, poor souls. +Let's have a look at these fellows." He went over to a huddled-up +figure lying in the shadow. The corner of a military cloak had been +thrown over the face. He drew it on one side and then let it drop. +"Gone!" he said laconically. He passed on to the next. There were in +all three men ranged against the wall. Two of them were dead. "Martins +told me they couldn't last," Colonel Carmichael muttered. "It is +better for them. They are out of it a little sooner, that's all." The +third man was Travers. He lay on his back, his face turned slightly +toward the wall, his eyes closed. He seemed asleep. The Colonel nodded +somberly. "Another ten hours," he calculated. + +He came back to the table, where the others waited, and drew out a +paper from his pocket. + +"Give me your light a moment, Nicholson," he said. + +No one spoke while he examined the list before him. All around them +was a curious hush--a new thing in their struggle, and one that seemed +surcharged with calamity. After a moment Colonel Carmichael looked up. +He was many years the senior of his companions, but just then there +seemed no difference in years between them. They were three wan, +haggard men, weakened with hunger, exhausted with sleepless watching. +That week had killed the youth in two of them. + +"Geoffries has just given me this," Carmichael said. "It is a list of +our provisions. We have enough food, but there is no fresh water. The +enemy has cut off the supply. We could not expect them to do +otherwise." He waited, and then, as neither spoke, he went on: "I have +spoken with the others. You know, gentlemen, we can not go on another +twenty-four hours without water. We have made a good fight for it, but +this is the end. We must look the fact in the face." + +"Surely they must know at headquarters what a state we are in--" +Saunders began. + +The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. + +"No doubt they know, but they can not help in time. This is not a +petty frontier business. It is something worse--a rising with a leader. +A rising with a leader is a lengthy business to tackle, and it +requires its victims. In this case we are the victims." He smiled +grimly. "We have only one thing left to do--make a dash for it while we +have the strength. You must know as well as I do that there is +scarcely anything worth calling a hope, but it's a more agreeable way +of dying than being starved out like rats and then butchered like +sheep. I know these devils." He glanced around the shadowy room with a +curious light in his eyes. "My best friend was murdered in this room," +he added. "Personally, I prefer a fair fight in the open." + +"When do you propose to make the start, Colonel?" Nicholson asked. + +"Within an hour. The night favors us. The women must be kept in the +center as much as possible. I have given Geoffries special charge over +them. They will be told at the last moment. There is no use in +spoiling what little rest they have had." He drew out a pencil and +began to scribble a despatch on the back of an old letter. "I advise +you gentlemen to do likewise," he said. "Very often a piece of paper +gets through where a man can not, and it is our bounden duty to supply +the morning periodicals with as much news as possible." + +For some minutes there was no sound save that of the pencils scrawling +the last messages of men with the seal of death already stamped upon +their foreheads. All three had forgotten Travers, and yet from the +moment they had begun to speak he had been awake and listening. He sat +up now, leaning upon his elbow. + +"Nicholson!" he said faintly. + +Nicholson turned and came to his side. + +"Hullo!" he said. "Awake, are you? How are you?" + +Travers made no immediate answer; he took Nicholson's hand in a +feverish clasp and drew him nearer. + +"I am in great pain," he said. "You don't need to pretend. I know. The +fear of death has been on me all day. Just now I am not afraid. Is +there no hope?" + +"You mean--for us? None." + +Travers nodded. + +"I heard you talking, but I wanted to make sure. It has all been my +fault--every bit of it. It's decent of you not to make me feel it +more. You are not to blame--her. You know I tempted her, I made her +help me. She isn't responsible. At any rate, she made a clean breast +of it--that's something to her credit. I didn't want to--I never meant +to. I am not the sort that repents. But this last week you have been +so decent, and Lois such a plucky little soul--she ought to hate +me--and perhaps she does--but she has done her best. Nicholson, are +you listening? Can you hear what I say? It's so damned hard for me to +talk." + +"I can hear," Nicholson said kindly. "Don't worry about what can't be +helped." In spite of everything, he pitied the man, and his tone +showed it. + +Travers lifted himself higher, clinging to the other's shoulder. His +voice began to come in rough, uneven jerks. + +"But it can be helped--it must be helped! Don't you see--I came +between you and Lois purposely. From the first moment you spoke of her +I knew that you loved her--and I wanted her. I never gave your +message. I didn't dare. You are the sort of man a woman cares for--a +woman like Lois. I couldn't risk it. But now--well, I'm done, and +afterward she will be free--" + +Nicholson drew back stiffly. + +"You are talking nonsense," he said, in a colder tone. "No one wants +you to die--and in any case, you know very well we have no chance of +getting through this alive." + +Travers seized his arm. His eyes shone with a painful excitement. + +"Yes--yes!" he stammered. "You have a chance--a sure hope. I can save +you; I can--atone. That's what I want. Only you must help me. I am a +dying man. I want you to bring me to the Rajah--at once. Only five +minutes with him--that will be enough. Then he will let you go--he +must!" + +Nicholson freed himself resolutely from the clinging hands. + +"You exaggerate your power," he said, "and, besides, what you ask is +an impossibility." + +He turned away, but Travers caught his arm and held him with a +frantic, desperate strength. + +"Then if you will not help me--send Miss Cary to me," he pleaded. "I +must speak to her." + +Nicholson looked down into the dying face with a new interest. He had +no suspicion of the burden with which Travers' soul was laden, and yet +he was conscious now that the matter was urgent and of an importance +which he could not estimate. + +"I will tell her," he said. "Stay quiet a minute. We have no time to +lose." + +Travers nodded and fell back on to his rough couch. His eyes closed +and he seemed to sleep, but as Beatrice knelt down by his side he +roused himself and looked at her with the intensity of a man who has +gathered his last strength for a last great purpose. + +"I am dying," he whispered thickly; "I know it and I don't care. I am +past caring. But before I die I want to atone; I want, if I can, to +save Lois. I care for her in my poor way, and I would like her to be +happy. Are you listening?" + +"I am listening," Beatrice answered gravely. "Do you think I could +close my ears when you speak of atonement?" + +He clutched her hand. + +"You would be glad to atone for all the mischief we have done?" + +"I would give my life." + +"Is the Colonel there? I can't see clearly. Colonel, I want you to +hear what I have to say." + +Colonel Carmichael turned. + +"This is no time," he said sternly, "and it is too late for atonement. +Our account with this world is closed." + +"It need not be. Colonel--in the name of those whose lives lie in your +hands, I beg of you to listen to me." + +There was a moment's hesitating silence. Travers' glazed eyes were +fixed on the elder man's face with a hypnotizing power. The Colonel +drew nearer--reluctantly knelt down. + +"Be quick then!" he said. + +Travers nodded. His head was thrown back against Beatrice's shoulder. +With fumbling, trembling fingers he drew a plain gold ring from his +pocket and thrust it into the Colonel's hand. + +"Look at that!" he whispered. "Look at the inscription." + +Carmichael turned to the feeble light. No one spoke or moved. They +watched him and waited with a reasonless, breathless suspense. + +"My God!" he whispered, "How did you come by this?" + +Travers drew himself upright. The shadows of death were banished in +that last moment; his voice was clear and steady as he answered. + +"Listen," he said. "I will tell you--and then act before it is too +late!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN THE HOUR OF NEED + + +Nehal Singh pulled aside the curtains over the window and stepped out +on to the balcony. The air in the great silent room behind him stifled +him, and even the night breeze, as it touched his cheeks, seemed to +burn with fever. He stood there motionless, his arms folded, gazing +fixedly into the half-darkness. A pale, watery moonlight cast an +unearthly shimmer over the shadowy world before him, brightened every +here and there by the will-o'-the-wisp fire points which marked the +presence of the camped thousands waiting silently for his word. Only +one spot--it seemed like a black stain--remained in absolute gloom, +and it was thither the Rajah's eyes were turned. Every night he had +come to the same place to watch it. Every night he had tortured +himself with the thought of all it contained. + +For he knew now, with the clear certainty of a man who has searched +down to the bottom of his soul, that in that silent area his whole +life, his one hope of happiness was bound up, and waited, with those +who were fighting stubbornly, heroically, against the end--its +destruction beneath his own sword. He was fighting against himself. +With his own hands he was tearing down that which seemed an +inseparable, incorporate part of himself. Anger and contempt were +dead. In their place the old love had rekindled and grown brighter +before the sight of a courage, dignified and silent, which had held +back the tide of furious fanaticism and thwarted his own despair. He +had seen, with eyes which burned with an indescribable emotion, a +regiment of wearied, weakened men, led by a man he had once despised, +burst through the densest squares of his own soldiers; he had heard +their cheers as they had clasped hands with the defenders; he had +looked aghast into his own heart, afire with admiration, aching with a +strange, broken-hearted gratitude to God who had made such men. It was +in vain that, lashing himself with the knowledge of his own weakness +and of his disloyalty to those who followed him, he had flung himself +against the defenses of the little garrison. + +Day after day they drove him back, fighting hand to hand in the +earthworks they had thrown up in a few hours of miraculous labor. He +fought against them like a man possessed of an unquenchable hatred; +but at night, when he was at last alone, he had slipped out on to his +balcony and held out his hands toward them in an unspeakable wordless +greeting. Once more they had become for him the world's Great People, +the giants of his boyhood's imagination, the heroes of his man's +ideal. At the point of the sword they had proved the truth of +Nicholson's proud boast, and hour by hour the man who had turned from +them in a moment of bitter disillusion saw the temple he had once +built to their honor rise from its ashes in new and greater splendor. + +Thus two weeks had passed, and to-night was to see the end. Nehal knew +that, brave though they were, they could do no more. They had no +water, and his forces hugged them in on every side. One last attack +and it would be over--Marut would be cleared from the enemy, his +victory complete. His victory! It was his own ruin he was preparing, +the certain destruction of that which seemed linked invisibly but +surely to his own fate. And, knowing that, he knew also that there was +no turning back for him, no retreat. His word was given. His people, +the people who claimed him by the right of blood, clamored for him to +lead them as he had sworn. It made no difference if on the path he had +chosen he trampled on every hope, every wish, every rooted instinct. +There was no turning back. He knew it--the knowledge that his own +words bound him came to him with pitiless finality as he stood there +watching the silent, lightless stretch which was soon to be the scene +of a last tragic struggle; and if indeed there are such things as +tears of blood, they rose to his eyes now. + +With lips compressed in an agony he could neither analyze nor conquer, +he turned slowly back into the dimly lighted room. Two torches burned +on either side of the throne and threw unsteady shadows among the +glittering pillars. They lit up his face and revealed it as that of a +man who has cast his youth behind him for ever. Only a few months had +passed since he had sat there with Travers in the full noon of his +hope and enthusiasm. He remembered the scene with a clearness which +was a fresh torture. The hopes that had been built up in that hour lay +shattered, the woman for whom they had been built was lost. He thought +of her now as he always thought of her, as he knew he would think of +her to the end. For this love, save that it had grown and deepened +into a wider understanding, had remained unchanged. As there had been +cowards and tricksters among his heroes, so in that one woman evil and +good had stood side by side and fought out their battle. And the good +had won--had won because he alone of all men had believed in it. He +believed in it still--in the same measure as he had learned to love +her--with a deeper understanding of temptation and failure. It was the +one triumph in the midst of seeming ruin, the one firm rock in the +raging torrent of his fate, beaten as it was between the contending +streams of desire and duty. She was indeed lost to him, but not as in +the first hour of his shaken trust. He had regained his memory of her +as a good woman, striving upward and onward; and already he had +invested her with the glory of those whom death has already claimed +from us. + +Nehal Singh started from his painful reverie, conscious that some one +had entered the room and was watching him. He turned and saw his chief +captain standing respectfully before him, and, though it was a man he +liked and trusted, it seemed to him that the gaunt, soldierly figure +had taken on the form of an ugly, threatening destiny. + +"All is ready, Great Prince," the native said, salaaming. "Every man +is at his post. We do but await thy orders." + +Nehal did not answer. His hands clasped and unclasped themselves in +the last agony of hesitation. The moment had come, the inevitable and +irretrievable moment which had loomed so long upon his horizon. Even +now he hardly knew what it was to bring him. The forces warring in his +blood were locked in a death struggle. At last he nodded and his lips +moved. + +"It is well. In half an hour--I will come to them. In half an +hour--the attack will begin." + +"Sahib--is it good to wait? The dawn cometh, and with the dawn--" + +Nehal Singh lifted his hand peremptorily. + +"In half an hour," he repeated. + +The man salaamed and was gone. Nehal Singh stood there like a pillar +of stone. It was over. In half an hour! And yet, at the bottom of his +heart, he knew that he had delayed--purposely, but to no end but his +own increased suffering. With a sigh of impatience he turned, and in +the same instant became once more aware that he was not alone. + +For a moment he perceived nothing save the shadows and the unsteady +flickering of the yellow torchlight. Then his vision cleared and he +saw and understood, and an exclamation burst from his horrified lips. +It was a woman who stood out against the darkness, her body clothed in +rags, the hair, grey and thin, hanging unkempt about her shoulders, +the face turned to his that of some being risen from a tomb. There +seemed to be no flesh upon the high cheek-bones nor upon the hands +that were stretched toward him; only the eyes were alive with an +unquenchable fire which burned upon him with a power that was +unearthly. She staggered a few steps and then sank slowly to his feet, +her hands still outstretched. He knelt down and supported the sinking +head upon his shoulder. + +"Who art thou?" he whispered in Hindustani. "Where hast thou come +from? Tell me thy history." + +A look of intense pain passed over her features. Slowly and with a +great effort her lips parted. + +"I am English--let me speak in English. I have only a few minutes--I +am dying." + +He looked about him, seeking something with which to moisten her dry +lips, but she clung to him with an incredible strength. + +"No, no, I must speak with you. Up to now I have lived in an awful +nightmare--amidst ghastly phantoms who pursued and tortured me. But +when I heard your voice--when I heard you give that order, I awoke. +The dreams vanished, I heard and understood--and remembered!" She drew +herself upright and, for a moment spoke with a penetrating clearness. +"Not in half an hour--never! Withdraw that order! If you go against +them you are accursed. Lay down your arms! You must--you know you +must! You dare not--" She clung to his arm and her eyes seemed to burn +their way into his very soul. "I tell you--to turn traitor is to +inherit an endless hell--" + +"A traitor!" he echoed. Something clutched at his heart, a sort of +numb suspense which became electrified as he saw a new expression +flash into her face. + +"Yes, a traitor!" she whispered. "That was what I was. I was +English--yes, English in spite of all, but in my bitterness I turned +from my people. I let myself be taken alive. I would not share the +fate of those who had once been dear to me. My whole life has been the +punishment. They tortured me and then came the dreams--the awful, +hideous dreams. I was always looking for you, always calling for you. +And they laughed and mocked at me. Only one man did not laugh--" her +voice grew doubtful and hesitating, as though she were groping in the +shadows of her memory. "He did not laugh. He promised to help me but +he never came again--and I died--yes, I died--but I saw your face, I +heard your voice--and I came back from death--to save you!" Once more +her vision cleared and her voice grew steadier. "Go back to them! They +are your friends. If you do not go, you will break your heart--as mine +is broken. Swear to me--you must, because--" + +He bent closer to her to catch every sound that fell from her lips. +His pulses were beating with a suffocating violence. Somewhere a veil +was lifting. It was as if the sunlight were at last breaking through a +mist of strange dreams, strange longings, strange forebodings. The +confused voices that had called to him throughout his life grew +clearer. + +"Because--?" he whispered. + +But she did not answer. Her head was thrown back. Her open eyes were +fixed intently on his face. Suddenly she smiled. It was a smile that +chilled his blood with its hideous distortion. And yet behind it +lurked the possibility of a long-lost beauty and sweetness. + +"Steven!" she whispered. "Steven!" + +Closer and closer she drew his face to hers. Her icy lips rested on +his cheek. Pity and a strange, as yet unformed, foreboding made him +accept that dying caress and speak to her with an urgent, pleading +gentleness. + +"You have something to tell me," he murmured, "something I must know. +Tell me before it is too late." + +But her eyes had closed and she did not answer him. + +"Rouse yourself!" he insisted. "Rouse yourself!" It seemed to him that +she smiled. Her face had undergone a change. It was younger, and in +the flickering light his imagination brightened it with the glories +whose dim traces still touched the haggard, emaciated features. One +last time her eyes opened and she looked at him. The frenzy of despair +was gone. He felt that she was looking beyond him to a future he could +not see. + +"Go back!" she whispered. "Go back!" + +He pressed her to him, seeking to pour something of his own seething +vitality into her dying frame. With her life the threads of his fate +seemed to be slipping through his fingers. + +"Help me!" he implored. "Do not leave me!" + +But he knew that she would never answer. She lay heavy in his arms, +and the hand that clasped his relaxed and fell with a soft thud upon +the marble. He rose to his feet and stood looking down upon her. It +was not the first time he had seen death. In these last weeks he had +met it in all its most hideous, most revolting forms; but none had +moved him, awed him as this did. He knew that she had once been +beautiful. Who had made her suffer till only a shadow of that beauty +remained? What had she endured? Who was she? What did she know of him? +Why did she call him by a name which rang in his ears with a vague +familiarity? What was it in her poor dead face which stirred in him a +memory which had no date nor place in his life? + +Outside he heard the uneasy stirring of the thousands who awaited him. +He looked up and through the open windows, saw the camp-fires and that +one dark spot which was to be swept clear of all but death. What had +she said? "Go back! Lay down your arms! You must--you know you must! +To turn traitor is to inherit an endless hell!" A traitor? A traitor +to whom--to what? To some blind instinct that had called him in those +English voices, that had beaten out an answering cry of thankfulness +from his heart when their cheers proclaimed his own defeat? + +A soft step roused him from his troubled thoughts. He looked up and +saw a servant standing in the curtained doorway. The man's eyes were +fixed on the outstretched figure at Nehal's feet, and there was an +expression on the dark face so full of fear and horror that the Rajah +involuntarily drew back. + +"Who was this woman?" he demanded. "Whence comes she?" + +"Lord Sahib, she was a mad-woman whom the Lord Behar Singh kept out of +mercy. She must have escaped her prison. More I know not." + +The man was trembling as though in the shadows there lurked a hidden +threatening danger, and Nehal turned aside with a gesture of desperate +impatience. + +"Why hast thou come before the time?" he asked. + +"Lord Sahib, outside there are two English prisoners. They demand to +be brought before thee. What is thy will?" + +"Bring them hither." + +Nehal Singh stood where the bowing servant left him, at the side of +the poor dead woman, his hands crossed upon his sword-hilt, his eyes +fixed on the parted curtains. There he waited, motionless, passive, as +a man waits who knows that he has become the tool of Destiny. + +A moment later, Beatrice stood before him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HIS OWN PEOPLE + + +She was not alone, but in that first moment he saw nothing but her +face. It seemed to him that the whole world was blotted out and that +only she remained, grave, fearless, supreme in her wan beauty, a +tragic figure glorified by a light of unconquerable resolution. He +looked at her but he did not greet her; no muscle of his set and ashy +features betrayed the thrill of passionate recognition which had +passed like a line of fire through his veins. To move was to awake +from a dream to a hideous, terrible reality. + +She came slowly toward him. The thin wrap about her head slipped back +and he saw the light flash on to the fair disheveled hair. His eyes +were dazzled, but it seemed to him that there were grey threads where +once had been untarnished gold. Yet he could not and would not speak, +and she came on till she stood opposite him, the dead woman lying +there between them. Then for the first time she lowered her eyes and +he awoke with a start of agonizing pain. + +"Why have you come?" he said. "Have you come to plead again? Have you +come to torture me again? Was not that once enough? In a few minutes I +shall sweep your people to destruction. Shall I save you?--is that +what you have come to tell me?" + +He waited for her answer, his teeth clenched, his brows knitted in the +old terrible struggle. All his energy, all his determination sank +paralyzed before her and before his love, and yet he knew he must go +on--go on with the destruction of himself, of her, of all that was +dearest to him. + +She knelt down and touched the dead face with her white hand, closing +the glazed, staring eyes with a curious tenderness and pity. There was +no surprise or horror in her expression as she at last rose and faced +him--rather a mysterious knowledge which held him bound in wordless +expectation. + +"I have come to tell you that woman's history, Steven Caruthers," she +said. "I have not come to plead with you but to tell you the truth--to +lay before you the two paths between which you must choose once and +for all. Will you listen to me?" + +"Beatrice!" he stammered. "Why have you given me a name which is not +mine--which _she_ gave me with her last breath? What do you know that +you have risked your life--" + +"It was no risk," she said. "My life was forfeited and it was our last +hope. Oh, if I can turn you from all this ruin, then I shall have +atoned for the evil I have done you!" + +The note of mingled entreaty, despair and hope stirred him to the +depths of his being, but he made no response. He could only point to +the white face and repeat the question which had beaten in pitiless +reiteration against his tortured brain. + +"Who was she?" + +"She was your mother." + +"And I--?" + +It was not Beatrice who this time answered. A figure stepped forward +out of the shadows and faced the Rajah. It was Carmichael, pale, +deeply moved, but erect and steadfast. His eyes were fixed on Nehal's +features with a curious, hungry eagerness which changed as he spoke +into a growing recognition. + +"Let me tell you," he said. "I will be brief, for every minute is +precious and full of danger for us all. This poor woman was Margaret +Caruthers, the wife of my dearest friend, and your mother. Until an +hour ago I believed that she had been butchered with her husband and +with all those others who paid the penalty of one man's sin. No doubt +you know why your supposed father, Behar Singh, rose against us?" + +"His honor--his wife had been stolen from him by a treacherous +Englishman," Nehal answered hoarsely. + +"Yes, by Stafford, John Stafford's father. The issue of that act of +infidelity was a child, Lois, who afterward was adopted by Caruthers, +partly out of friendship for Stafford, partly because he had no +children of his own. So much, at least, I surmise. I surmise, too, +that that adoption cost him his wife's love and trust. Perhaps, +ignorant of the child's real parentage, she believed the worst, +perhaps there were other causes--be it as it may, in the hour of +catastrophe she refused to share the general fate. She chose to throw +herself upon the mercy of her mother's people." + +"Her mother's people!" Nehal echoed blankly. + +"There was native blood in her veins. It was on that account that +Behar Singh spared her. She bitterly learned to regret her change of +allegiance. She was kept close prisoner, and six months after the +murder of her husband she bore him a son--you--Steven Caruthers. Behar +Singh, himself without an heir, took the child from her, and from that +hour the unfortunate woman became insane. Long years she was kept a +secret and wretched captive, and then one day she escaped, and in her +wanderings met a man--an Englishman who was then your friend." + +"Travers!" Nehal exclaimed. + +"Yes, Travers. By means of bribes and threats he obtained her whole +history, partly from her own lips, partly from her gaolers. But he +told no one of his discovery." + +"Why not? How dared he keep silence?" + +"It is very simple. He wished to marry my ward, Lois Caruthers, and he +wished to have her money. As I have said, Caruthers had adopted her +when her mother, the Reni Ona, returned to her own people, and had +made her his heir in the case that he should have no children of his +own. Had your existence been known Lois would have been penniless. +Travers knew this and kept his secret from every one save Stafford." + +"Why did he tell Stafford?" + +"He had to. Stafford and Lois loved each other--with a love which was +all too natural and explicable in the light of our present knowledge. +It was necessary that he should be made aware that marriage between +them was impossible--that they were, in fact, the children of the same +father." + +"Stafford kept silence--" + +"He had promised. And, moreover, he believed it kinder to hide the +truth from Lois. Only at the last he determined to speak at all costs. +But it was too late. You know--he was murdered on the steps of +Travers' house." + +Nehal Singh nodded. An even deadlier pallor crept over his features. + +"I know," he said. "It was Behar Singh's last vengeance. God knows, my +hands are clean." + +"That I know. You are your father's son." + +"And the proof of all this?" + +"This ring. Take it. It was your mother's. Travers gave it to me when +he made his confession. He took it from the poor mad woman at their +first meeting. Look at the inscription. It bears your mother's and +father's names." + +"And Travers--?" The Rajah lifted his hand in a stern, threatening +gesture. + +"--is dead," was the grave answer. "He died an hour ago, in his wife's +arms." + +For a moment a profound hush hung over the great, dimly lighted hall. +The Rajah knelt down by his mother's side and gently replaced the ring +upon the thin lifeless finger. + +"She called herself a traitor," he said, half to himself. "A traitor +to whom--to what?" + +"To the strong white blood that was in her veins. In her bitterness at +the real or imagined wrongs that had been done her, she turned away +from the people to whom she belonged, to whom she was bound by all the +ties of love and upbringing. She disobeyed the voice of her instinct. +And you, her son, you, too, have been bitter; you, too, must listen to +the call of the two races to whom you are linked. Whom will you obey? +You stand at the cross-ways where you must choose--where we must +either part or join hands for good and all. The road back to us is +open, is still open. That is the message of peace which we have risked +our lives to bring you. Rajah, Steven Caruthers--for so I now call +you--I plead with you--I may plead with you, for in this hour at least +I can not look upon you as an adversary, but as the son of this +unfortunate woman--above all, of my friend. I plead with you the more +because I owe you years of friendship. I am not the least to blame +that you fell away from us in resentment and bitterness. I could have +shielded you from the inevitable pitfalls that beset your path, +but--God forgive me!--my prejudice blinded me and I held back. It was +I who carried you away from the palace on that night when you were +left, a helpless child, to the mercy of Behar Singh's enemies. Then I +had pity enough--but years after I held back the hand of friendship +which I might have offered you. Well, I am punished, twice punished, +for my prejudice and blindness. Is it too late for me to make my +reparation?" + +He held out his hand and there was a silence of tense expectation. The +Rajah's head was bowed. He did not seem to see the Colonel's movement. + +"You can not think I am pleading with you to save our lives," +Carmichael went on with grave dignity. "We have fought for them. An +hour ago we were prepared to lay them down without complaint. We are +not the less prepared now. It is not for us I am speaking, but for +you. Your day as Rajah is over--your claim to rule in India void. I +offer you instead your father's name, your father's people, your +father's heritage. The other road--well, you have trodden it, you know +it. You must choose. Your mother chose--twenty-five years ago, in the +same hour of crisis, blinded by the same bitterness. She chose to tear +the bonds of love and duty; she ignored the true voice of her +instinct. It broke her heart. The same crisis stands to-night before +you, her son. What will you do--Steven Caruthers?" + +The Rajah lifted his head. The struggle was written in his dark, +sunken eyes and on the compressed lips. + +"I can not desert them," he said wearily. "They trust me--my people +trust me." + +"Who are your people?" was the swift question. "You must choose." + +Again the same silence, the same waiting while the hand of fate seemed +to hover above them in the darkness. Beatrice left her place at the +dead woman's side. With a firm, proud step she came to the Rajah and +took his hand in both her own. He started at her touch, and for a long +minute his gaze seemed to sink itself in hers, but she never wavered. +When she spoke an immeasurable tenderness rang in her voice, a +boundless understanding and sympathy. + +"Steven--have you forgotten? Long ago in the old temple? Don't you +remember what you told me then--how you loved and admired us? You +called us the world's Great People, and when you spoke of our heroes +there was something in your voice which thrilled me. Was it only your +books, was it your teachers--Behar Singh--who made you feel as you +did? When you came among us, what led you? The face of a woman? Was it +only that? Or was it something more?--the call of a great, wonderful +instinct?" + +His eyes were riveted on her face, but for that moment he did not see +her. He did not see the tears that glistened on her cheeks. He was +looking straight through the long vista of the past, right back to the +first hours of his memory, when he had wandered alone amidst strange +faces, a ruler in a palace which had never ceased to be his prison, an +exile whose home lay only in strange, fantastic dreams. And in this +final moment he seemed to stand high above the past, and ever swifter +and surer to trace through every incident of his life one same guiding +power. Through the snares of Behar Singh's hate-filled temptations it +had led onward; it had borne him to the temple--to the feet of the +woman he was to love through every torture of bitter deception; it had +swept him on a wave of impulse beyond his prison walls out into a +world which he at last hailed as his; and now, in the hour of fiercest +despair, of deepest loss, it was drawing him surely and swiftly +homeward. The past vanished. He saw again the face lifted to his--he +saw the tears--the Colonel's hand outstretched, waiting to clasp his +own. He heard the title that she gave him as a man hears a +long-forgotten watchword. + +"You are English, Steven. You are English--you belong to us!" + +He unfastened the sword at his side. For a moment he held it as though +in farewell. But there was no grief on his face as he laid the jeweled +weapon in the Colonel's hand. + +"I have chosen," he said. "I can not go against my people." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +ENVOI + + +With the surrender of one man the great Marut rising came to an end. +It had been built up by him and on him, and with him it collapsed. As +the news reached the armed thousands encamped about the ruined +Station, consternation fell upon them. There was no attempt at +organization or resistance. They believed simply that Heaven had +turned against them and Vishnu joined hands with the Englishman, and +they waited to hear no more. What had seemed an overwhelming force +melted away as though it had been a shadow, and in the jungle, +slinking along the lightless highways, or huddling in the lonely +hovels outside Marut, the remnant of Behar Singh's great army hid from +the hand of the destroyer. They had followed their god, and their god +had deserted them. All hope was lost, and with the fatalism of their +race they flung their weapons from them as they fled. + +Pending the decision of the Government, Nehal Singh, now Steven +Caruthers, was held prisoner in the club-house he had built two years +before. Part of the returned regiment was encamped about the +surrounding gardens, in order to prevent all attempt at rescue, but +the precaution was a mere formality. Visitors came constantly. There +was not a man in all the Station who was not anxious to help bury the +past and to hold out the hand of friendship to one whom at the bottom +of their hearts they had once wronged and slighted. Among them +Carmichael and Nicholson were the chief. They passed many hours of +each day with him, and worked steadily and enthusiastically for his +pardon and release. He was touched and grateful, but beneath his +gratitude there still lurked the demon of unrest. She had not +come--the one being for whom he waited--she had sent no word. He knew +that her mother lay dying--above all things he knew that on the great +day of the attack she had stood resolutely between him and death--but +nothing, no explanation or assurance, calmed the hidden trouble of his +mind. After all, it had been pity--or remorse--not love. + +Thus three weeks passed. The Colonel had spent the day with him +discussing the future, arranging for the transference of Lois' fortune +into his unwilling hands, and now, toward nightfall, he was once more +alone, wearied in body and soul. For the first time since his +surrender his sense of quiet and release from an immense burden was +gone. He was still alone. He felt now that he would always be alone, +for there was but one who could fill the blank in his life. And she +had not come. He did not and could not blame her. Who was he that a +woman should join her lot to his? An Englishman truly, but one over +whose birth and youth there hung a shadow, perhaps a curse such as had +darkened his mother's life and the life of all those in whose veins +there flows an alien blood. She must not even think that any link from +the past bound her. She must be free--quite free to choose. Wearily he +seated himself at his table and took his pen. + +"You have been the great guiding light of my life," he wrote to her. +"You will always be, because I can not learn to forget. But for you it +would be easier and better to forget. You will be happier--" And then +he heard the door open, and she stood before him. The words that he +had meant to write rushed to his lips, but no further. Moved by a +common impulse, they advanced to meet each other, and the next moment +she was in his arms. Neither spoke. It seemed as though, once face to +face, there could be no doubts, no misunderstandings between them. +Their love was wordless, but it had spoken in a silence more eloquent, +more complete than words could ever have been. + +"I could not come before," she said, after a little. "I could not +leave her. She was only at peace when I held her hand. She was very +happy at the last--now it is all over." + +He held her closer to him, and she clung to him, not sadly or wearily, +but like a strong woman who had fought and won the thing she fought +for. + +"It was Fate after all," he said, under his breath. "She meant us for +each other." + +She looked up at him. Though suffering, physical and mental, had drawn +its ineffaceable lines upon her face, it had also added to her beauty +the charm of strength and experience. + +"I knew long ago that it was Fate," she answered. "Do you remember +that first evening? You told me that people do not drift aimlessly +into each other's lives. Even then, against my will, I felt that it +was true. Afterward I was sure. I had entered into your life in a +moment of frivolous recklessness, but you had entered into mine with +another purpose, and I could not rid myself of you. Your hold upon me +was strong. It grew stronger, do what I would, and the farce became +deadly earnest." + +"For me it was always deadly earnest," he said. "When I first saw you +standing before the idol, it was as though a wall which had surrounded +my life had been overthrown, and that you had come to be my guide and +comrade in a new and unknown world." + +"And then I failed you." + +His eyes met hers thoughtfully. + +"Did you? Now I look back, I am not sure. I had to believe you when +you said you had deceived me and played with me. I had to force myself +to despise you. Yet, when you confronted me in the bungalow, I felt +suddenly that you needed to explain nothing. I understood." + +"Did you understand that I had only deceived myself? I told myself +that it was a farce played at your expense. But--Heaven knows--I +believe it ceased to be a farce from the first hour I saw you. You +believed in me so. No one had believed in me before--I had never +believed in myself or in man, or in God, either. But I had to believe +in you, and afterward--the rest came." She drew herself upright and +looked him full in the dark eyes. "Steven, do you trust me?" He +nodded. "As you did on that day when you told me that you owed me all +that you were and ever would be?" + +"As then, Beatrice." + +She smiled gravely. + +"You do right to trust me. You have made me worthy of your trust." + +He put his arm about her shoulder, and led her gently on to the +verandah. The night had fallen dark and starless. Through the black +veil they saw the gleam of bivouac fires and heard the voices of men +calling to one another, and the clatter of piled arms. They remained +silent, after the storm and stress of the past, content to be together +and at peace. They knew that the long night was over and that the dawn +had broken. + +When the Colonel entered they did not hear him, and without speaking +he turned back and closed the door after him. In his hand he held a +telegram ordering the deposition of Nehal Singh, Rajah of Marut, and +the recognition, pardon and release of one Steven Caruthers, +Englishman. But he crept away with the long-hoped-for message. + +"Time enough," he thought. "They are happy." + +And if beneath his heartfelt rejoicing there lurked the shadow of +bitterness, who shall blame him? There was one dearer to him than his +own child could have been, for whose wounded heart there seemed as yet +no balsam. And yet, unknown to him, for her also the dawn was +breaking. For even as he crept away with knitted brows, sharing her +burden with her by the power of love and sympathy, she held in her +hands the first herald of a happier future. + +"What you have told me I accept--for now," Adam Nicholson had written. +"You are wise to travel with the Carmichaels. It will do you good. I, +who was prepared to wait my whole life for you, can have patience for +a little longer. I know that you suffer and as yet I may not help you. +Your pride separates us, but your pride is a little thing compared to +my love. What is your birth or parentage to me? You say it would +overshadow my whole life, darken my career? It might try. That would +be one thing more to fight against. We have come to India to sweep +away its prejudices; let us first sweep away our own. We have come to +bring freedom; let us first make ourselves free. It will be a good +battle, but it will not darken my life, Lois. Do you think opposition +and struggle could darken my life? Surely you know me better. Do but +stand at my side, and there will be no darkness. I am not a boy. I am +a man who sees before him long years of labor, and who needs the one +woman who can help him. Is our cathedral forgotten? I do not believe +it. You are not the woman to forget. The time is not far off when we +will crown our cathedral hand in hand. Only when your love dies can +the barrier between us become insurmountable. If your love lives, +then, as surely as there is a God in Heaven, I will come and fetch +you, Lois--my wife." + +And the tears that filled her eyes as she read the boldly written +words were no longer the tears of grief. Her love for him had been the +rock upon which her life was built. It was imperishable. She knew thus +that she would not have long to wait until his coming. + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Native Born, by I. A. R. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Native Born + or, The Rajah's People + +Author: I. A. R. Wylie + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7940] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 3, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NATIVE BORN *** + + + + +Produced by Elizabeth Trapaga, S. R. Ellison, William A. Pifer-Foote, +Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +[Illustration: "Miss Cary has consented to become my wife."] + + + + + THE NATIVE BORN + + or + +THE RAJAH'S PEOPLE + + + by + + I. A. R. WYLIE + + 1910 + + + +with Illustrations by + +JOHN NEWTON HOWITT + + + + +PREFACE + + +In earlier days a preface to a novel with no direct historical source +always seemed to me somewhat out of place, since I believed that the +author could be indebted solely to his own imagination. I have learned, +however, that even in a novel _pur sang_ it is possible to owe much to +others, and I now take the opportunity which the despised preface offers +to pay my debt--inadequately it is true--to Mr. Hughes Massie, whose +enthusiastic help in the launching of this, my first serious literary +effort, I shall always hold in grateful remembrance. + +I. A. R. W. + +May 9th, 1910 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BOOK I + +CHAPTER + I WHICH IS A PROLOGUE + II THE DANCING IS RESUMED + III NEHAL SINGH + IV CIRCE + V ARCHIBALD TRAVERS PLAYS BRIDGE + VI BREAKING THE BARRIER + VII THE SECOND GENERATION +VIII THE IDEAL + IX CHECKED + X AT THE GATES OF A GREAT PEOPLE + XI WITHIN THE GATES + XII THE WHITE HAND +XIII THE ROAD CLEAR + XIV IN WHICH MANY THINGS ARE BROKEN + XV THE GREAT HEALER + XVI FATE +XVII FALSE LIGHT + + +BOOK II + + I BUILDING THE CATHEDRAL + II CATASTROPHE + III A FAREWELL + IV STAFFORD INTERVENES + V MURDER + VI CLEARING AWAY THE RUBBISH + VII IN THE TEMPLE OF VISHNU +VIII FACE TO FACE + IX HALF-LIGHT + X TRAVERS + XI IN THE HOUR OF NEED + XII HIS OWN PEOPLE +XIII ENVOI + + + + +THE NATIVE BORN + + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WHICH IS A PROLOGUE + + +The woman lying huddled on the couch turned her face to the wall and +covered it with her hands in a burst of uncontrollable horror. + +"Oh, that dreadful light!" she moaned. "If it would only go out! It will +send me mad. Oh, if it would only go out--only go out!" + +Her companion made no immediate answer. She stood by the wall, her +shoulders slightly hunched, her hands clasped before her in an attitude of +fixed, sullen defiance. What her features expressed it was impossible to +tell, since they were hidden by the deep shadow in which she had taken up +her position. The rest of the apartment was lit with a grey, ghostly +light, the reflection from the courtyard, in part visible through the open +doorway, and which lay bathed in all the brilliancy of a full Indian moon. + +"When the light goes out, it will mean that the end has come," she said at +last. "Do you know that, Christine?" + +"Yes, I know it," the other answered piteously; "but that's what I +want--the end. I am not afraid to die. I know Harry will be there. He will +not let it be too hard for me. It's the suspense I can not bear. The +suspense is worse than death. I have died a dozen times tonight, and +suffered as I am sure God will not let us suffer." + +Margaret Caruthers bent over the cowering figure with the sympathy which +education provides when the heart fails to perform its office. There was, +indeed, little tenderness in the hand which passed lightly over Christine +Stafford's feverish forehead. + +"You give God credit for a good deal," she said indifferently. "If the +light troubles you, shall I shut the door?" + +Christine sprang half upright. + +"No!" she cried sharply. "No! I should still see it. Even when I cover my +face--so--I can still see it flickering. And then there is the darkness, +and in the darkness, faces--little John's face. Oh, my little fellow, what +will become of you!" She began to cry softly, but no longer with fear. +Love and pity had struggled up out of the chaos of her despair, rising +above even the mighty instinct of self-preservation. Margaret's hand +ceased from its mechanical act of consolation. + +"Be thankful that he is not here," she said. + +"I am thankful--but the thought of him makes death harder. It will hurt +him so." + +"No one is indispensable in this world." + +Christine turned her haggard, tear-stained face to the moonlight. + +"How hard you are!" she said wonderingly. "You, too, have your little girl +to think of, but even with the end so close--even knowing that we shall +never see our loved ones again--you are still hard." + +"I have no loved ones, and life has taught me to be hard. Why should death +soften me?" was the cold answer. Both women relapsed into silence. Always +strangers to each other, a common danger had not served to break down the +barrier between them. Christine now lay quiet and calm, her hands clasped, +her lips moving slightly, as though in prayer. Her companion had resumed +her former position against the wall, her eyes fixed on the open doorway, +beyond which the grey lake of moonlight spread itself into the shadow of +the walls. In the distance a single point of fire flickered uneasily, +winking like an evil, threatening eye. So long as it winked at them, so +long their lives were safe. With its extermination they knew must come +their own. Hitherto, save for the murmur of the two voices, a profound +hush had weighed ominously in the heavy air. Now suddenly a cry went up, +pitched on a high note and descending by semitones, like a dying wind, +into a moan. It was caught up instantly and repeated so close that it +seemed to the two women to have sprung from the very ground beneath their +feet. Christine started up. + +"Oh, my God!" she muttered. "Oh, my God!" She was trembling from head to +foot, but the other gave no sign of either fear or interest. There +followed a brief pause, in which the imagination might have conjured up +unseen forces gathering themselves together for a final onslaught. It came +at last, like a cry, suddenly, amidst a wild outburst of yells, screams, +and the intermittent crack of revolvers fired at close quarters. +Pandemonium had been let loose on the other side of the silver lake, but +the silver lake itself remained placid and untroubled. Only the red eye +winked more vigorously, as though its warning had become more imperative. + +Christine Stafford clung to a pair of unresponsive hands, which yielded +with an almost speaking reluctance to her embrace. + +"You think there is no hope?" she pleaded. "None? You know what Harry +said. If the regiment got back in time--" + +"The regiment will not get back in time," Margaret Caruthers interrupted. +"There are ten men guarding the gate against Heaven knows how many +thousand. Do you expect a miracle? No, no. We are a people who dance best +at the edge of a crater, and if a few, like ourselves, get swallowed up +now and again, it can not be helped. It is the penalty." + +"If only Harry would come!" Christine moaned, heedless of this cold +philosophy. "But he will keep his promise, won't he? He won't let us fall +into those cruel hands? You remember what happened at Calcutta--" + +"Hush! Don't frighten yourself and me!" exclaimed Margaret impatiently. +"Does it comfort you to hold my hand? Well, hold it, then. How strange you +are! I thought you weren't afraid." + +"I shan't be when the time comes--but it's so very lonely. Don't you feel +it? Are you made of stone?" + +Margaret Caruthers set her teeth hard. + +"I would to God I were!" she said. All at once she wrenched her hand free +and pointed with it. Her arm, stretched out into the light, had a curious, +ghostly effect. "Look!" she cried. + +The red eye winked rapidly in succession, once, twice, three times, and +then closed--this time for ever. An instant later two dark spots darted +out into the brightly lighted space and came at headlong pace toward them. +Christine sprang to her feet, and the two women clung to each other, +obeying for that one moment the instinct which can bind devil to saint. +But it was an English voice which greeted them from the now darkened +doorway. + +"It's all over!" Steven Caruthers said, entering with his companion and +slamming the door sharply to. "We have five minutes more. Mackay has +promised to keep them off just so long. Stafford, see to your wife!" He +spoke brutally, in a voice choked with dust and pain. The room was now in +pitch darkness. Harry Stafford felt his way across, his arms outstretched. + +"Christine!" he called. + +She came to him at once, with a step as firm and steady as a man's. + +"Harry!" she cried, her voice ringing with an almost incredulous joy. "Oh, +my darling!" + +He caught her to him and felt how calm her pulse had become. + +"Are you afraid, my wife?" + +"Not now. I am so happy!" + +He knew, strange though it seemed, that this was true and natural, because +her love was stronger than life or the fear of death. + +"Do you trust me absolutely, Christine?" + +"Absolutely!" + +"Give me both your hands--in my one hand--so. Kiss me, sweetheart." + +In the same instant that his lips touched hers he lifted his right +disengaged hand, and something icy-cold brushed past her temple. She clung +to him. + +"Not yet, Harry! Not yet! Oh, don't think I don't understand. I do, and I +am glad. If things had gone differently the time must have come when one +of us would have been left lonely. Now, we are going together. What does +it matter if it is a little sooner than we hoped? Only, not yet--just one +minute! We have time. Do not let us waste it. Let us kneel down and say +'Our Father,' and then--for little John--" Her voice broke. +"Afterward--when you think fit, husband, I shall be ready." + +He put his arm about her, and they knelt down side by side at the little +couch. Christine prayed aloud, and he followed her, his deeper voice +hushed to a whisper. + +The two other occupants of the room did not heed them. They, too, had +found each other. At her husband's entrance Margaret Caruthers had crept +back to the wall and had remained there motionless, not answering to his +sharp, imperative call. He groped around the room, and when at length his +hands touched her face, both drew back as one total stranger from another. + +"Why did you not answer?" he asked hoarsely. "Are you not aware that any +moment may be our last?" + +"Yes," she said. + +"I have something I wish to say to you, Margaret, before the time comes." + +"I am listening." + +"I wish to say if at any period in our unfortunate married life I have +done you wrong, I am sorry." + +She made no answer. + +"I ask your forgiveness." + +"I forgive you." + +The sound of firing outside had grown fainter, the shrieks louder, more +exultant, mingling like an unearthly savage chorus with the hushed voices +By the couch. + +--"Thy will be done--" prayed Christine valiantly. + +Margaret Caruthers lifted her head and laughed. + +"Don't laugh!" her husband burst out. "Pray now, if you have ever prayed +in your life. You have need of prayers." He lifted his arm as he spoke; +but, as though she guessed his intention, she sprang out of his reach. + +"No!" she said, in a voice concentrated with passion. "I am not going to +die like that. Stafford can shoot his wife down like a piece of blind +cattle if he thinks fit--but not you. I won't die by your hand, Steven. I +hate you too much." + +"Hush!" he exclaimed. "The account between us is settled." + +"Do you think I can begin to love you just because we are both about to +die?" + +"You are my wife," he answered, grasping her by the wrists. "There are +things worse than death, and from them I shall shield you, whether you +will or not." + +"Is it not enough that you have taken my life once?" she retorted. + +"What do you mean? How dare you say that!" + +"I say it because it is true. I have never lived--never. You killed me +years ago--all that was best in me. Save your soul from a second murder." + +"If you live, do you know what may lie before you?" + +"You talk of things 'worse than death.' What shame, what misery could be +worse than the years spent at your side?" + +"You are mad, Margaret. I shall pay no attention to you. I must save you +against your will." + +All through the hurried dialogue neither had spoken above a whisper. Even +in that moment they obeyed the habit of a lifetime, hiding hatred and +bitterness beneath a mask of apparent calm. Without a sound, but with a +frantic strength, Margaret wrenched herself free. + +"Leave me to my own fate!" she demanded, in the same passionate undertone. +"You have ceased to be responsible for me." + +He made one last effort to hold her. In the same instant the firing ceased +altogether. There followed the roar and crash of bursting timber, the +pattering of naked feet, the fanatic yells drawing every second nearer. + +"Margaret!" he cried wildly, holding out his revolver in the darkness. +"If not at my hands, then at your own. Save yourself--" + +"I shall save myself, have no fear!" she answered, with a bitter, +terrible laugh. + +From the couch Christine Stafford's voice rose peacefully: + +"Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!" + +Another voice answered, "Amen!" There was the report of a revolver and a +sudden, startling stillness. It lasted only a breathing space. Furious +shoulders hurled themselves against the frail, weakly barred door. It +cracked, bulged inward, with a bursting, tearing sound, yielded. The +moonlight flooded into the little room, throwing up into bold relief the +three upright figures and the little heap that knelt motionless by the +couch. + +The crowd of savage faces hesitated, faltering an instant before the +sahibs who yesterday had been their lords and masters. Then the sahibs +fired. It was all that was needed. The room filled. There was one stifled +groan--no more than that. No cry for mercy, no whining. + +Little by little the room emptied again. The cries and bloodthirsty +screams of triumphant vengeance died slowly in the distance, the grey +moonlight resumed its peaceful sovereignty. Only here and there were +dark stains its silver could not wash away. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE DANCING IS RESUMED. + + +"Oh, I love India--adore it, simply!" Mrs. Cary exclaimed, in the tone of +a person who, usually self-controlled, finds himself overwhelmed by the +force of his own enthusiasm. "There is something so mystic, so enthralling +about it, don't you think? I always feel as though I were wandering +through a chapter of the _Arabian Nights_ full of gorgeous princes, +wicked robbers, genii, or whatever you call them. Isn't it so with you, +Mrs. Carmichael?" + +Her hostess, a thin, alert little woman with a bony, weather-beaten face, +cast an anxious glance at the rest of her guests scattered about the +garden. + +"There aren't any robbers about here--except my cook," she said +prosaically. "My husband wouldn't allow such a thing in his department, +and in mine he is no good at all. As for the princes, we don't see +anything of the only one this region boasts of. He may be gorgeous, but I +really can not say for certain." + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Cary, with a placid smile. "You have been in fairyland too +long, dear Mrs. Carmichael. That's what's the matter with you. You are +beginning to look upon it as a very ordinary, everyday place. If you only +knew what it is to come to it with a virgin heart and mind-thirsting for +impressions, as it were. That is how we feel, do we not, Beatrice?" She +half turned to the girl standing at her side, as though seeking to draw +her into the conversation. + +"It is indeed new for _me_," the latter answered shortly, and with slight +emphasis on the personal pronoun. + +"I was about to remark that this is scarcely your first visit to India," +Mrs. Carmichael put in. "I understood that your late husband had a +government appointment somewhere in the South?" + +Mrs. Cary's heavy face flushed, though whether with heat or annoyance it +was not easy to judge. + +"Of course--a very excellent appointment, too--but the place and the +people!" She became confidential and her voice sank, though beyond +her daughter there was no one within hearing. "Between you and me, +Mrs. Carmichael, the people were _dreadful_. You know, I am not +snobbish--indeed I must confess to quite democratic tendencies, which +my family always greatly deplores--but I really couldn't stand the +people. I had to go back to England with Beatrice. The place was filled +with subordinate railway officials. Don't you hate subordinates, dear +Mrs. Carmichael?" + +Mrs. Carmichael stared, during which process her eyes happened to fall +on Beatrice Cary's half-averted face. She was surprised to find that +the somewhat thin lips were smiling--though not agreeably. + +"I really don't know what you mean by 'subordinates,'" Mrs. Carmichael +said, in her uncompromising way. "Most people are subordinates at some +time or other. My husband was a lieutenant once. I don't remember +objecting to him. At any rate," she continued hastily, as though to cut +the conversation short, "I hope you will like the people here." + +"I'm sure I shall. A military circle is always so delightful. That is what +I said to Beatrice when I felt that I must revisit the scene of my girlish +days. 'We must go somewhere where there is military.' Of course, we might +have gone to Simla--I have influential friends there, you know--but I +wanted my girl to see a real bit of genuine India, and Simla is _so_ +modern. Really a great pity, I think. I am so passionately fond of color +and picturesqueness--comfort is nothing to me. As my husband used to say, +'Oh, Mary, you are always putting your artistic feelings before material +necessities.' Poor fellow, he used to miss his creature comforts +sometimes, I fear." + +Her laugh, painfully resembling a giggle, interrupted her own garrulity, +which was finally put to an end by a fresh arrival. A slight, +daintily-clad figure had detached itself from a group of guests and came +running toward them. Mrs. Carmichael's deeply lined, somewhat severe face +lighted up. + +"That is my husband's ward, Lois Caruthers," she said. "She has been with +me all her life, practically. As you are so fond of genuine India, you +must let her show you over the place. She knows all the dirtiest, and I +suppose most interesting corners, with their exact history." + +"Delightful!" murmured Mrs. Cary, with a gracious nod of her plumed +headgear. Nevertheless, she studied the small figure and animated features +of the new-comer with a critical severity not altogether in accordance +with her next remark, uttered, apparently under pressure of the same +irresistible enthusiasm, in an audible side whisper: "What a sweet +face--so piquant!" + +An adjective is a pliable weapon, and, in the hands of a woman, can be +made to mean anything under the sun. Mrs. Cary's "piquant"--pronounced +in a manner that was neither French nor English, but a startling mixture +of both--had a background to it of charitable patronage. It was meant, +without doubt, to be a varnished edition of "plain," perhaps even "ugly," +though Lois Caruthers deserved neither insinuation. Possibly too small in +build, she was yet graceful, and there was a lithe, elastic energy in her +movements which drew attention to her even among more imposing figures. +Possibly, also, she was too dark for the English ideal. Her black hair and +large brown eyes, together with the unrelieved pallor of her complexion, +gave her appearance something that was exotic but not unpleasing. _Enfin,_ +as most people admitted, she had her charm; and her moods, which ranged +from the most light-hearted gaiety to the deepest gravity, could be +equally irresistible. She was light-hearted enough now, however, as she +smiled from one to the other, including mother and daughter in her +friendly greeting, though as yet both were strangers to her. + +"I have come to fetch you, Aunt Harriet," she said, addressing Mrs. +Carmichael. "Mr. Travers has got some great scheme on hand which he will +only disclose in your presence. We are all gasping with curiosity. Will +you please come?" + +Mrs. Carmichael nodded. + +"I will come at once," she said. "I'm sure it's only one of Mr. Travers' +breakneck schemes, but they are always amusing to listen to. Lois, come +and be introduced. My adopted niece--Mrs. Cary--Miss Cary." + +They shook hands. + +"Lois, when there is time, I want you to do the honors of Marut. Miss Cary +especially has as yet seen nothing, and there is a great deal of interest. +You know--" turning to her visitors--"Marut is supposed to have been the +hotbed of the last rising." + +"Indeed!" murmured Mrs. Cary vaguely. "How delightful!" + +Lois Caruthers laughed, not without a shadow of bitterness. + +"It was hardly delightful at the time, I should imagine," she observed. +"But what there is to see I shall be very glad to show you. Will any day +suit you?" + +"Oh, yes, any day," Beatrice Cary assented, speaking almost for the first +time. "I have nothing to do here from morning to night." + +"That will soon change," Lois said, walking by her side. "I am always +busy, either playing tennis, or riding, or getting up some entertainment. +The difficulty is to find time to rest." + +"You must be a very much sought-after person," Beatrice observed, in the +tone of a person who is making a graceful compliment. The hint of irony, +however, was unmistakable. + +"I am not more sought after than any one else," Lois returned, unruffled. +"Every one has to help in the work of frivolity." + +"I shall be rather out of it, then," Beatrice said coolly. "I am not +amusing." + +"It is quite sufficient to be willing, good-natured and good-humored," +Lois answered. + +They had by this time reached the group under the trees, where Mrs. +Carmichael and her companion had already arrived, under the escort of +a tall, stoutly built man, who was talking and apparently explaining +with great vigor. As Lois entered the circle, he glanced up and smiled +at her, revealing a handsome, cheerful face, singularly fresh-colored +in comparison with the deep tan of the other men. + +"That is Mr. Travers," Lois explained. "He is a bank director or +something in Madras, and has been on a long business visit north. +He is awfully clever and popular, and gets up everything." + +"Rich, I suppose?" + +Lois glanced up at her companion. The beautiful profile and the tone +of the remark seemed incongruous. + +"I don't know," she said rather abruptly. "He has four polo ponies. +Nobody else has more than two." + +"Do you calculate wealth by polo ponies, then?" + +Lois laughed. + +"Yes, we do pretty well," she said--"that is, when we bother about such +things at all. Most people are poor, and if they aren't, they have to live +beyond their income, so it comes to the same in the end." + +"Everybody looks cheerful enough," Beatrice Cary observed. "I always +thought poverty and worry went together." + +"Who is that talking about poverty and worry?" asked a voice behind them. +"Is it you, Miss Caruthers? If so, I shall arraign you as a disturber of +the peace. Who wants to be bothered with the memory of his empty purse on +such a lovely day?" + +Lois turned with a smile to the new-comer. + +"No, I am innocent, Captain Stafford," she said. "It was Miss Cary who +brought up the terms you object to." + +"Well, won't you introduce me, then, so that I can express my displeasure +direct to the culprit?" + +The ceremony of introduction was gone through, on Beatrice Cary's side +with a sudden change of manner. Hitherto cold, indifferent, slightly +supercilious, she now relaxed into a gentleness that was almost appealing. + +"This is a new world for me," she said, looking up into Captain Stafford's +amused face, "and I have so many questions to ask that I am afraid of +turning into a mark of interrogation, or--as you said--a disturber of +the peace." + +"You won't ask questions long," he answered, with a wise shake of the +head. "Nobody does. Wherever English people go they take their whole +paraphernalia with them; and you will find that, with a few superficial +differences, Marut is no more or less than a snug little English suburb. +A little more freedom of intercourse--a little less Philistinism, +perhaps--but the foundations are the same. As to India itself, one soon +learns to forget all about it." + +He then turned to Lois, who was intent on watching Mr. Travers. + +"You weren't on the race-course this morning," he said in an undertone. +"I missed you. Why did you not come?" + +"I couldn't," she said. "There was too much to be done. We are rather +short of servants just now, for reasons--well, that, according to you, +ought not to be mentioned on a fine day." + +He laughed, but not as he had hitherto done. There was another tone in +his voice, warmer, more confidential. It attracted Beatrice Cary's +attention, and she looked curiously from Lois to the man beside her. +About thirty-five, with a passably good figure, irregular, if honest, +features, and an expression usually somewhat grave, he made no pretensions +to any exterior advantage. He could apparently be gay, as now, but his +gaiety did not conceal the fact that it was unusual. Altogether, he had +nothing about him which appealed to her, but Beatrice Cary was inclined +to resent Lois' obvious intimacy with him as something which accentuated +her own isolation. + +"Can you make out what Mr. Travers is saying?" Lois asked, turning +suddenly to her. "I can't hear a word, and I'm sure it's awfully +interesting. Captain Stafford, do you know?" + +"I can guess," he answered, half smiling. "When Travers has a suggestion +to make, it usually means that some one has to stump up." + +There was a general laugh. Travers looked around. + +"Some one has accused me falsely," he declared. "I have a prophetic sense +of injury." + +"On the contrary, that is what I am suffering from," Stafford retorted. +"Since hearing that you have a new scheme, I have been hastily reckoning +how many weeks' leave I shall have to sacrifice to pay for it." + +Travers shook his head. + +"As usual--wrong, my dear Captain," he said. "My scheme has two parts. The +first part is known to you all, though for the benefit of weak memories, I +will repeat it. Ladies and gentlemen, in this Station we have the honor of +being protected from the malice of the aborigine by two noble regiments. +We count, moreover, at least thirty of the fair sex and forty +miscellaneous persons, such as miserable civilians like myself, and +children. Hitherto, we have been content to meet at odd times and odd +places. When hospitality has run dry, we have resorted to a shed-like +structure dignified with the name of club. Personally, I call it a +disgrace, which should at once be rectified." + +"I have already contributed my mite!" protested a young subaltern from the +British regiment. + +"I know; so has everybody. With strenuous efforts I have collected the sum +of five hundred rupees. That won't do. We require at least four times that +sum. Consequently, we must have a patron." + +"The second part of your programme concerns the patron, then?" Captain +Webb inquired, with an aspect of considerable relief. "Not yourself, by +any chance?" + +"Certainly not. If I had any noble inclinations of that sort I should have +discovered them a long time ago. No, I content myself with taking the part +of a fairy godmother." + +"I'm afraid I don't follow," Stafford put in. "What is the fairy godmother +going to do for us? Produce a club-house, a patron, or a cucumber?" + +"A patron, and one, my dear fellow, whom I should have entirely overlooked +had it not been for you." + +"For me!" + +"It was you who made the discovery that the present Rajah is not, as we +thought, an imbecilic youth, but a man of many parts and splendidly +adapted to our requirements." + +"I protest!" broke in Stafford, with unusual earnestness. "It was by pure +chance that, in an audience with the Maharajah Scindia, the late regent of +Marut, I got to hear that his whilom ward was both intelligent and +cultured. I believe it was a slip on his part, and, seeing that Rajah +Nehal Singh has shunned all English intercourse, I can not see that there +is any likelihood of his adapting himself or his purse to your plans." + +"Oh, bosh!" exclaimed Travers impatiently. "You are too cautious, +Stafford. Other rajahs interest themselves in social matters--why not this +one? He is fabulously rich, I understand, and a little gentle handling +should easily bring him around." + +There was a chorus of bravos, in which only one or two did not join. One +was Colonel Carmichael, who stood a little apart, pulling his thin grey +moustache in the nervous, anxious way peculiar to him, his kindly face +overshadowed. + +"On principle," he began, after the first applause had died down, "I am +against the suggestion. Of course, I have no deciding voice in the matter, +but I confess that the idea has not my approval. I know very well that, as +you say, other native princes have proved themselves useful and valuable +acquisitions to English society. In some cases it may be well enough, +though in no case does it seem to me right to accept hospitality from a +man to whom we only grant an apparent equality. In this particular case I +consider the idea--well, repulsive." + +"May I ask why, Colonel?" Travers asked sharply. + +"By all means. Because less than a quarter of a century ago the father of +the man from whom you are seeking gifts slaughtered by treachery hundreds +of our own people." + +An uncomfortable, uneasy silence followed. Captain Stafford and Lois +exchanged a quick glance of understanding. + +"I know of at least two people who will agree with me," continued the +Colonel, who had intercepted and possibly anticipated the glance. + +"You are right, Colonel," Stafford said. "I bear no malice, and any idea +of revenge seems to me foolish. As far as I know, the present Rajah is all +that can be desired, but I protest against a suggestion--and what is +worse, a practice, which must inevitably lower our dignity in the eyes of +those we are supposed to govern." + +The awkward silence continued for a moment, no one caring to express a +contrary opinion, though a contrary opinion undoubtedly existed. + +Beatrice looked up at Captain Webb, who happened to be standing at her +side. Her acquaintance with him dated only from an hour back, but an +uncontrollable irritation made her voice her opinions to him. + +"I think all that sort of thing rather overstrained and unnecessary," she +said. "Your chief business is to get the best out of life, and quixotic +people who worry about the means are rather a nuisance, don't you think?" + +Captain Webb's bored features lighted up with a faint amusement. + +"O, Lor', you mustn't say that sort of thing to me, Miss Cary!" he said in +a subdued aside. "Superior officer, you know! If you want an index to my +feelings, study my countenance." He pretended to smother a gigantic yawn, +and Beatrice's cool, unchecked laughter broke the constraint. + +Travers look around with a return of his old good-humor. + +"Well," he said, "I have two votes against my plans, but, with due +respect to those two, who are, perhaps, unduly influenced by unfortunate +circumstances, I feel that it is only just that the others should be +given a voice in the matter. Do you agree, Colonel?" + +Colonel Carmichael had by this time regained his placid, gentle manner. + +"Certainly," he agreed, without hesitation. + +"Hands up, then, for letting Rajah Nehal Singh go his way in peace!" + +Three hands went up--Colonel Carmichael's, Stafford's and Lois'. Beatrice +glanced at the latter with a smile that expressed what it was meant to +express--a supercilious amusement. Her indifference was rapidly taking +another and more decided character. + +"Hands up for drawing the bashful youth into Circe's circle!" called +Travers, now thoroughly elated. A forest of hands went up. Captain Webb +and his bosom comrade, Captain Saunders, who, for diplomatic reasons had +remained neutral, exchanged grins. "You see," Travers said, turning with +deferential politeness to the Colonel, "the day is against you." + +"The Old Guard dies, but never surrenders!" quoted the Colonel +good-humoredly. + +"The next question is, on whose shoulders shall the task of beguilement +fall?" Travers went on, glancing at Stafford. "I suppose you, O, wise +young judge--?" + +"It is out of the question," Stafford answered at once. "I consider I have +done enough damage already." + +"What about your serpent's tongue, Travers?" suggested Webb. "When I think +of the follies you have tempted me to commit, I feel that you should be +unanimously elected." + +Travers bowed his acknowledgments with mock gravity. + +"Since there are no other candidates, I accept the onerous task," he said, +"but I can not go about it single-handed. The serpent's tongue may be +mine, but I lack, I fear, the grace and personal charm necessary for +complete conquest. I need the help of Circe, herself." His bright, +bird-like eye passed over the laughing group, resting on Lois an instant +with an expression of woebegone regret. Beatrice Cary was the next in +line, and his search went no farther than her flushed, eager face. "Ah!" +he exclaimed, "I have found the enchantress herself! Miss----" He +hesitated, for an instant unaccountably shaken out of his debonair +self-possession. Webb sprang to the rescue with a formal introduction, and +Travers proceeded, if not entirely with his old equanimity. "I beg your +pardon, Miss Cary," he apologized. "Your face is, strangely enough, so +familiar to me that I took you for an old acquaintance--perhaps, indeed, +you are, if in our modern days Circe finds it necessary to travel +incognito." + +Beatrice joined in the general amusement, her unusually large and +beautiful eyes bright with elation. + +"May I claim your assistance?" Travers went on. "Instinct tells me that we +shall be irresistible." + +"Willingly," Beatrice responded, "though I can not imagine how I can help +you." + +"Leave that to me," he said, offering her his arm. "My plans are +Napoleonic in their depth and magnitude. If you will allow me to unfold +them to you before the dancing begins--?" + +She smiled her assent, and walked at his side toward the Colonel's +bungalow. On their way they passed Mrs. Cary, who, strangely enough, did +not respond to the half-triumphant glance which her daughter cast at her. +She turned hastily aside. + +"Mr. Travers is no doubt--" she began, in a confidential undertone; but +her companion, Mrs. Carmichael, had taken the opportunity and vanished. + +The light-hearted, superficial discussion, with its scarcely felt +undercurrent of tragic reminiscence, had lasted through the swift sunset, +and already dusk was beginning to throw its long shadows over the gaily +dressed figures that streamed up toward the bungalow. + +On the outskirts of the garden lights were springing up in quick +succession, thanks to the industry of Mrs. Carmichael, who hurried from +one Chinese lantern to the other, breathless but determined. The task was +doubtless an ignominious one for an Anglo-Indian lady of position, but +Mrs. Carmichael, who acted as a sort of counterbalance to her husband's +extravagant hospitality, cared not at all. England, half-pay and all its +attendant horrors, loomed in the near future, and economy had to be +practised somehow. + +Of the late group only Lois and John Stafford remained. They had not +spoken, but, as though obeying a mutual understanding, both remained +quietly waiting till they were alone. + +"Shall we walk about a little?" he asked at last. "I missed our morning +ride so much. It has put my whole day out of joint, and I want something +to put it straight again. Do you mind, or would you rather dance? I see +they have begun." + +"No," she said. "I would rather be quiet for a few minutes. Somehow I have +lost the taste for that sort of thing to-night." + +"I also," he responded. + +They walked silently side by side along the well-kept path, each immersed +in his own thoughts and soothed by the knowledge that their friendship had +reached a height where silence is permitted--becomes even the purest form +of expression. At the bottom of the compound they reached a large, +low-built building, evidently once a dwelling-place, overgrown with wild +plants and half in ruins, whose dim outlines stood out against the +darkening background of trees and sky. The door stood open, and must +indeed have stood open for many years, for the broken hinges were rusty +and seemed to be clinging to the torn woodwork only by the strength of +undisturbed custom. + +Stafford came to a halt. + +"That is where--" he began, and then abruptly left his sentence +unfinished. + +"Yes," she said, "it is here. I don't think, as long as we live in India, +that my guardian will ever have it touched. He calls it the Memorial. My +father was his greatest friend, and the terrible fact that he came too +late to save him has saddened his whole life." + +Stafford looked down at her. The light from a lantern which Mrs. +Carmichael, with great dexterity, had fixed among some overhanging +branches, fell on the dark features, now composed and thoughtful. She met +his glance in silence, with large eyes that had taken into their depths +something of the surrounding shadow. He had never felt so strongly before +the peculiarity of her fascination--perhaps because he had never seen her +in a setting which seemed so entirely a part of herself. The distant +music, the hum of voices, and that strange charm which permeates an Indian +nightfall--above all, the ruined bungalow with its shattered door and +silent memories--these things, with their sharp contrasts of laughter and +tragedy, had formed themselves into a background which belonged to her, so +that she and they seemed inseparable. + +"Oh, Lois, little girl!" Stafford said gently. "I have always thought of +you as standing alone, different from everything and everybody, a stranger +from another world, irresistible, incomprehensible. I have just understood +that you are part and parcel of it all, child of the sun and flowers and +mysteries and wonders. It is I who am the stranger!" + +"Hush!" she said, in a voice of curious pain. "Hush! Let us go back. We +must dance--whether we will or not." + +He followed her without protest. The very rustle of her muslin skirts over +the fallen leaves made for his ears a new and fantastic music. + +Close behind them wandered the two captains, Webb and Saunders, arm in +arm. At the entrance to Colonel Carmichael's Memorial Webb stopped, and, +striking a match against the door, proceeded to light his cigar. The tiny +flame lit up for an instant the languid patrician features. + +"A cigar is one's only comfort in a dull affair like this," he remarked, +as they resumed their leisurely promenade. "Awful wine, wasn't it?" + +"Awful. The Colonel is beginning to put on the curb--or his lady. It's the +same thing." + +"It will be better when the club comes into existence," said Webb, blowing +consolatory clouds of smoke into the quiet air. + +"It is to be hoped so. Spunky devil, that Travers. Wonder how he means to +do the trick. He knows how to pick out a pretty partner, anyhow." + +"That Cary girl? Yes. Wait till the heat has dried her up, though. She'll +be a scarecrow, like the rest of them. By the way, what were her people?" + +"Heaven knows--something in the D.P.W., I believe. The mother was dressed +in the queerest kit." + +"I heard her talking about 'the gentlemen,'" remarked Webb, laughing, as +they went up the steps of the bungalow together. + +The Memorial was once more left to its shadows and silence. At the edge of +the compound a group of natives peered through the fencing, watching and +listening. Their dark faces expressed neither hatred nor admiration, nor +sorrow, nor pleasure--at most, a dull wonder. + +When they were tired of watching, they passed noiselessly on their way. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +NEHAL SINGH + + +The Royal apartment was prepared for the suffocating midday heat. Heavy +hangings had been pulled across the door which led on to the balcony, and +only at one small aperture the sunshine ventured to pierce through and +dance its golden reflection hither and thither over the marble floor. The +rest was hidden in the semi-obscurity of a starlit night, which, like a +transparent veil, half conceals and half reveals an untold richness and +splendor. + +At either side slender Moorish pillars rose to the lofty ceiling, and from +their capitals winking points of light shimmered through the shadows. +Fantastic designs sprang into sudden prominence on the walls, shifting +with the shifting of the sunshine, and at the far end, raised by steps +from the level of the floor, stood a throne, alone marked out against the +darkness by its bejeweled splendor. Of other furniture there was no +trace. To the left a divan formed of silken cushions had been built up for +temporary use, and on this, stretched full length on his side, lay an old +man whose furrowed visage appeared doubly dark and sinister beneath the +dead white of his turban. His head was half supported on a pillow, and +thus at his ease he watched with unblinking, unflagging attention the +tall, slight figure by the doorway. + +It was the Rajah himself who had let in the one point of daylight. It fell +full upon his face and set into a brilliant blaze the single diamond on +the nervous, muscular hand which held the curtain aside. Apparently he had +forgotten his companion, and indeed everything save the scene on which his +eyes rested. Beneath the balcony, like steps to a mighty altar, broad and +beautiful terraces descended in stately gradations to a paradise of rare +exotic flowers, whose heavy perfume came drifting up on the calm air to +the very windows of the palace. This lovely chaos extended for about a +mile and then ended abruptly. As though cultivated nature had suddenly +broken loose from her artificial bounds, a dark jungle-forest rose up side +by side with the flowers and well-kept walks, and like a black stain +spread itself into the distance, swallowing up hill and valley until the +eye lost itself in the haze of the horizon. Within a few hundred yards of +the palace a ruined Hindu temple lifted its dome and crumbling towers into +the intense blue of the sky. And on garden, jungle, and temple alike the +scorching midday sun blazed down with pitiless impartiality. + +For an hour the Rajah had remained watching the unchanging scene, scarcely +for an instant shifting his own position. One hand rested on his hip, the +other held back the curtain and supported him in a half-leaning attitude +of dreamy indolence. Against the intensified darkness of the room behind +him his features stood out with the distinctness of a finely cut cameo. A +man of about twenty-five years, he yet seemed younger, thanks, perhaps, to +his expression, which was extraordinarily untroubled. + +Thought, poetic and philosophic, but never tempestuous, sat in the dark, +well-shaped eyes and high, intellectual forehead. Humor, sorrow, care, +anxiety and doubt, the children of a strenuous life, had left his face +singularly unscarred with their characteristic lines. For the rest, beyond +that he was unusually fair, he represented in bearing and in feature a +Hindu prince of high caste and noble lineage. Between him and the old man +upon the divan there was no apparent resemblance. The latter was +considerably darker, and lacked both the refinement of feature and dignity +of expression which distinguished the younger man. Nevertheless, when he +spoke it was in the tone of familiarity, almost of paternal authority. + +"Art thou not weary, my son?" he asked abruptly. "For an hour thou hast +neither moved nor spoken. Tell me with what thy thoughts are concerned. I +would fain know, and thy face has told me nothing." + +Nehal Singh let the curtain fall back into its place, and the yellow patch +of sunshine upon the marble faded. He looked at his companion steadfastly, +but with eyes that saw nothing. + +"My thoughts!" he repeated, in a low, musical voice. "My thoughts are +valueless. They are like caged birds which have beaten their wings against +the bars of their cage and now sit on their golden perches and dream of +the world beyond." He laughed gently. "No, my father. You, who have seen +the world, would mock at them as dim, unreal reflections of a reality +which you have touched and handled. For me they are beautiful enough." + +The old man lifted himself on his elbow. + +"Thinkest thou never of thyself?" he asked. "In thy dreams hast thou never +seen thine own form rise at the call of thy waiting people?" + +"My waiting people!" Nehal Singh repeated, with a smile and a faint +lifting of the eyebrows. "No people wait for me, my father. So much I have +learned. I bear a title, a tract of land acknowledges my rule--but a +people! No, like my title, like my power, like myself, so is the people +that thou sayest await me--a dream, my father, a dream!" He spoke gravely, +without sadness, the same gentle, wistful smile playing about his lips. + +The other sank back with a groan. + +"The All-Highest pity me!" he exclaimed bitterly. "A child of blood and +battle, without energy, without ambition!" + +Nehal Singh, who had paced forward to the foot of the throne, turned and +looked back. + +"Ambition I have had," he answered, "energy I have had. Like my thoughts, +they have beaten themselves weary against the bars of their cage. What +would you have me do?" He strode back to the door, and, pulling aside the +curtain, let the full dazzling sunshine pour in upon them. "See out +there!" he cried. "Is it not a sight to bring peace to the soul of the +poet and the dreamer? But for the warrior? Can he draw his sword against +flowers and trees?" + +The old man smiled coldly, but not without satisfaction. + +"There is a world that awaiteth thee beyond," he said. + +"A world of which I know nothing." + +"The time cometh." + +Nehal Singh studied the wrinkled face with a new intentness. + +"Hitherto thou hast always held a barrier between the world and me," he +said. "When the call to the Durbar came, it was thou who bade me say I was +ill. When the Feringhi sought my presence, it was thou who held fast my +door, first with one excuse, then with another. And now? I do not +understand thee." + +Behar Asor struggled up into a sitting posture, his features rendered more +malignant by a glow of fierce triumph. + +"Ay, the barrier has been there!" he cried. "It is I who have held it +erect all these years when they thought me dead and powerless. It is I who +have kept thee spotless and undefiled, Nehal Singh, thou alone of all thy +race and of all thy caste! The shadow of the Unbeliever has never crossed +thy man's face, his food thy lips, nor has his hand touched thy man's +hand. Thou art the chosen of Brahma, and when the hour striketh and the +Holy War proclaimed from east to west and from north to south, then it +shall be _thy_ sword--" + +Nehal Singh held up his hand with a gesture of command. + +"Thou also art a dreamer," he said firmly. "Thy heart is full of an old +hatred and an old injury. My heart is free from both. Seest thou, my +father, there were years when thy words called up some echo in me. Thou +toldest me of the Feringhi, of the bloody battles thou foughtest against +them because they had wronged thee; how, after Fortune had smiled faintly, +thou wert driven into exile, and I, thy son, bereft of all save pomp and +title, placed upon thy empty throne. These things made my blood boil. In +those days I thought and planned for the great hour when I should seek +revenge for thee and for myself. That is all past." + +"Why all past?" Behar Asor demanded. + +"Because the truth drifted in to me from the outer world. I saw that +everywhere there was peace such as my land, even after thy account, has +rarely known. Law and order reigned where there had been plundering and +devastation, prosperity where there had been endless famine. More than +this, I saw that in every conflict, whether between beast and beast or man +and man, it was always the strongest and wisest that conquered. The +triumph of the fool and weakling is but a short one, nor is the rule of +crime and wickedness of long duration. Why, then, should I throw myself +against a people who have brought my people prosperity, and who have +proved themselves in peace and war our masters in courage and wisdom?" + +Behar Asor struggled up, galvanized by a storm of passion which shook his +fragile frame from head to foot. + +"Thou art still no more than an ignorant boy," he exclaimed. "What knowest +thou of these things?" + +"I have read of Englishmen whose deeds outrival the legends of Krishna," +Nehal Singh answered thoughtfully. "They fought in your time, my father. +Thou knowest them better than I." + +The old man ground his teeth together. + +"They are dead." There was a reluctant admiration in his tone. + +"Nevertheless, their sons live." + +"The sons inherit not always the courage of their fathers," Behar Asor +answered, with a bitter significance. + +Nehal Singh had wandered back to the throne, as though drawn thither by +some irresistible attraction, and stood there motionless, his arms folded +across his breast. + +"Do not blame me," he said at last. "No man can go against himself. Were +it in my power, I would do thy will. As it is, without cause or reason I +can not draw my sword against men whose fathers have made my heart beat +with sympathy and admiration." + +Behar Asor sank back in an attitude of absolute despair. + +"I am accursed!" he said. + +With a smothered sigh, Nehal Singh mounted the steps and seated himself. +In his attitude also there was a hopelessness--not indeed the hopelessness +of a man whose plans are thwarted, but of one who is keenly conscious that +he has no plans, no goal, no purpose. As he sat there, his fine head +thrown back against the white ivory, his eyes half closed, his fingers +loosely clasping the golden peacocks' heads which formed the arms of his +throne, there was, as he had said, something dreamlike and unreal about +his whole person, intensified perhaps by the dim atmosphere and shadowy +splendor of his surroundings. + +Behar Asor had ceased to watch him, but lay motionless, with his face +covered by the white mantle which he wore about his shoulders. The first +storm of angry disappointment over, he had relapsed into a passive +oriental acceptance of the inevitable, which did not, however, exclude an +undercurrent of bitter brooding and contempt. + +Some time passed before either of the two men spoke. At last Behar Asor +lifted his head and glanced quickly sidewise at the figure seated on the +throne. Nehal Singh's eyes were now entirely closed and seemed to sleep. +Such a proceeding would have been excusable enough in the suffocating +heat, but the sight drove the old man into a fresh paroxysm of +indignation. + +"Sleepest thou, Nehal Singh?" he demanded, in a harsh, rasping voice. "Is +it not sufficient that thou hast failed thy destiny, but in the same hour +thou must close thine eyes and dream, like a child on whose shoulders rest +no duty, no responsibility? Awake! I have more to say to thee." + +Nehal Singh looked up. + +"I have not slept," he said gravely, "though, as to what concerns duty and +responsibility, I might well have done so, for I have neither the one nor +the other. Speak, I pray thee. I listen." + +Behar Asor remained silent a moment, biting his forefinger. There was +something in the action strongly reminiscent of a cunning, treacherous +animal. + +"Thou hast laughed at thine own power," he said at last, "though I have +sworn to thee that, as in my time, so today, the swords that sleep in a +hundred thousand sheathes would awake at thy word. They sleep because thou +sleepest. Well--thou hast willed to sleep. I can not force thee, and mine +own hand has grown too feeble. But since thou hast chosen peace, remember +this, that it can last only with thy lifetime. So long thy people will be +patient. Afterward--" He shrugged his shoulders significantly. + +"Thou hast more to tell me," Nehal Singh said. + +"If thou wilt keep peace in thy land, see to it that thou hast children +who will carry it on for thee after thou hast passed into the shadow," +Behar answered. "Hitherto thou hast led a strange and lonely life, +preparing as I willed for the destiny thou hast cast aside. Take now unto +thee a companion--a wife." + +As though clumsy, untutored fingers which had until now tortured some fine +instrument had suddenly, perhaps by chance, perhaps by instinct, struck a +pure harmonious chord, Nehal Singh rose to his feet, his weary dreamer's +face transfigured with a new light and new energy. + +"A wife!" he said under his breath. "A woman! I know nothing of women. In +all my life I have seen but two--my mother and a nautch-girl--who cringed +to me. I should not like my wife to cringe to me. Are there not such as +could be my companion, my comrade? Or are they all servile slaves?" + +Behar Asor laughed shortly and contemptuously. + +"They are our inferiors," he said, "hence they can not be more than +companions for our idle hours. But you will have idle hours enough, and +there would be many who would call themselves blessed to share themselves +with thee. A great alliance--" + +Nehal Singh interrupted him with the old gesture of authority. + +"Thou hast said enough, my father," he said. "I will think upon it. Until +then--leave me my peace." + +With a slow, meditative step he went back to the curtained doorway and, +pulling aside the hangings, went out on to the balcony. It was four +o'clock, and already the heat of the day had broken. Long rays of sunlight +struck eastward across the garden and touched with their faded golden +fingers the topmost turrets of the temple. In the distance the shadows of +the jungle had advanced and, like the waves of a rising tide, seemed to +swallow up, step by step, the brightness of the prospect. Nehal Singh +descended the winding stair that led to the first terrace. Thence three +paths stretched themselves before him. He chose the central one, and with +bowed head passed between the high, half-wild, half-cultivated borders of +plants and shrubs. A faint evening breeze breathed its intangible perfume +against his cheek, and he looked up smiling. + +"A woman!" he murmured dreamily. "A woman!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CIRCE + + +The dominion over which Rajah Nehal Singh exercised his partial authority +was a tract of unfruitful land extending over about two hundred square +miles and sparely inhabited by a branch of the Aryan race which through +countless generations had kept itself curiously aloof from its neighbors. +The greater number were Hindus of the strictest type, and perhaps owing to +their natural conservatism they had succeeded in keeping their religion +comparatively free from the abuses and distortions which it was forced to +undergo in other regions. Up to the year l8--the state had been to all +practical purposes independent. Its poverty and unusual integral cohesion +made it at once a dangerous enemy and an undesirable dependent, which it +was tacitly agreed to let alone until such time when action should become +imperative. That time had come under the reign of Behar Asor--then Behar +Singh. This prince, who, his followers declared, could trace his descent +from Brahma himself, unexpectedly, after he had been living in +hand-in-glove friendship with his European neighbors, proclaimed a Holy +War, massacred all foreigners within his reach, and for eighteen long +months succeeded, by means of a species of guerrilla warfare, in keeping +the invading armies at bay. Partly owing to the unflagging determination +of the English troops, partly owing also to the intense hatred with which +he was regarded by all Mohammedans, he was eventually overcome, though he +himself was never captured. It was believed that he died while fleeing +through the vast jungles with which his land was overgrown, and this idea +was strengthened by the fact that, though a large reward for his capture +was offered, nothing further had ever been heard of him. + +From that time the land came under the more or less direct control of the +Government. As a concession to the population, Behar Singh's one-year-old +son was placed upon the throne under a native regency, but English +regiments were stationed at the chief towns, and a political agent resided +at the capital. Neither the regiments nor the political agent, however, +found any work for their hands to do. A calm, as unexpected as it was +complete, seemed to descend upon the whole country, and the officers who +had taken up their posts with a loaded revolver in each hand, figuratively +speaking, began very quickly to relapse instead into pig-sticking, polo +and cards. + +The climate was moderate, the vegetation beautiful if unprofitable, and +the sport excellent. Thus it came about that a danger spot on the map of +the Indian Empire became a European paradise, and that to be ordered to +Marut was to become an object of envious congratulations. Not, as Mr. +Archibald Travers had with justice complained, that the reigning prince, +as in other states, took any part in the general gaiety or in any way +enhanced the agreeableness of his capital. As far as was known, no +European eyes had ever lighted on him since his childhood. Under one +excuse and another he had been kept persistently in the background, his +place being taken first by the regent and then by succeeding ministers, +until it was generally supposed that the young Rajah was either afflicted +with some loathsome disease or mentally deficient, probabilities which the +Government, with unpleasant recollections of Behar Singh's too great +intelligence, accepted with unusual readiness. There were no causes for +suspicion. The Rajah never left the precincts of his palace garden, a +piece of land whose cultivation had cost untold sums, and which, together +with the Hindu temple, was supposed to stand as the eighth wonder of the +world. Fabulous stories were told of the beauty and rarity of the +vegetation, and of the value of the jewels which were supposed to decorate +the temple and royal apartments. As there was no opportunity of confirming +or refuting the statements, they were allowed to grow unhindered. + +It was in this small sphere that Nehal Singh spent his childhood, his +youth and early manhood. Of the outer world he had seen nothing, though he +had read much, his education extending over all European history and +penetrating deep into that of his own country. Nevertheless, the picture +his mind had formed had little in common with the reality--it was too +overshadowed by his own character. As a blind man may be able, through +hearsay, to describe his surroundings detail by detail and yet at the +bottom be possessed by an entirely false conception, so Nehal Singh, to +all appearances well instructed, was in reality as ignorant as a child. +The heroes whose figures peopled his imagination were too heroic, the +villains too evil, and both heroes and villains were either physically +beautiful or hideous, according to their characters. + +He had no comrade against whose practical experience he might have rubbed +this distorted picture into a more truthful likeness. His only companions +had been his native instructors and the priests--men separated from him by +a gulf of years and a curious lack of sympathy which he had in vain +striven to overcome. Thus he had been intensely lonely, more lonely than +he knew, though some dawning realization crept over him on this particular +evening as he passed through the temple gates. For a moment he stood with +his hands crossed over his breast, absorbed in prayer to Brahma, the +Creator, in whose presence he was about to stand. In such an hour, amidst +the absolute stillness, under the stupendous shadows of the walls, which +had, unchanging, seen generation after generation of worshipers drift from +their altars into the deeper shades of Patala, the young prince felt the +wings of divine spirits brush close past him, bearing his prayer on unseen +hands to the very ear of the golden-faced Trinity who, from his earliest +years, had seemed to look down upon him with solemn kindness. + +This evening, more perhaps than ever before, every fiber in him vibrated +beneath the touch of the holy charm, and the prayer which passed +soundlessly over his lips came from a soul that worshiped in fiery +earnestness and truth. A minute passed as he stood there, then, removing +his shoes, he stepped over the threshold and walked forward between the +gigantic granite columns which supported what was left of the dome-shaped +roof. There was no altar, no jewel, no figure cut in the hard stone that +was not known to him with all their mysterious significance. Here had been +spent all his leisure hours; here had been dreamed his wildest dreams; +beneath this column he had seen as in a vision how Vishnu took nine times +human form and a tenth time came, according to the Holy Writings, with a +winged horse of spotless white, and crowned as conqueror. + +To-day these things pressed down upon him with all the weight of a +tremendous reality. With beating heart he entered at last into the Holy of +Holies and stood before the god's high altar, visible only to those of +purest caste. His head was once more bowed. He did not venture to look up +at the golden figure whose ruby eyes, he knew, stared straight through his +soul into every corner of the world and beyond into Eternity. His belief, +pure, unsoiled from contact with the world, was a power that had gone out +into the darkness and conjured thence the spirits that shrank back from +the cold prayer of the half-believer. They stood before him now--these +wonderful spirits. He believed surely that, should he dare to raise his +eyes, he would see them, definite yet formless, arising glorious out of +the cloud of golden reflection from Brahma's threefold forehead. + +Thus he prayed, not kneeling, since the god cared only for his soul: + +"Oh, Lord Brahma, Creator, hear me! Thou who madest me knowest whither I +came and whither I go; but I, who am as the wind that bloweth as thou +listeth, as a flower that springeth up in the night and unseen fadeth in +the midday heat, I know not thy purpose nor the end for which I am. Lord +Brahma, teach me, for my soul panteth after knowledge. Show me the path +which I must tread, for I am weary with dreams. Teach me to serve my +people--be it hand in hand with the Stranger and his gods, be it alone. +Teach me to act, and that right soon; for my childhood days are spent and +my man's arm heavy with idleness. Send me forth--but not alone--not alone, +Lord Brahma, for I am heart-sick of loneliness. Give me my comrade, my +comrade who shall be more to me than--" + +He stopped and, obeying an impulse stronger than himself, lifted his face +to the idol. It had vanished. In its place stood a woman. + +At another and cooler moment, with a mind filled with other thoughts, with +a heart untroubled by new and all-powerful emotions, he would have known +her, if only from hearsay, for what she was. But with that passionate +prayer upon his lips, she was for him the answer, a divine recognition of +his need and of his lately recognized loneliness. + +Tall, slender, with a pale, transparent complexion, touched like a young +rose with the faintest color, dark, grave eyes and hair that seemed a part +of the obscured god, whose pure lines, though foreign, harmonized in every +detail with the classic beauty of her surroundings, she stood and watched +him, as he watched her, in perfect silence. + +"Lakshmi!" he murmured at last; and, as though the one word had broken a +charm which held them both paralyzed, she smiled, and the smile lit up the +Madonna face and made it as human as it had seemed divine. + +[Illustration: "Lakshmi!" he murmured at last.] + +"Forgive me," she began, speaking in English, "I am afraid I have +disturbed you, but--" She paused, apparently confused by the directness of +his gaze. The faint pink upon her cheek deepened. + +"Who are you?" he demanded in his own tongue. + +Her look of non-comprehension steadied him, at least outwardly, though it +did not check the fierce, painful beating of his pulses. He repeated the +question in pure though hesitating English. + +"I am an Englishwoman," she answered at once, "and have lost my way. For +hours--it seems hours, at any rate--I have been wandering hither and +thither, trying to find my party, with whom I was enjoying an excursion. +By some chance I came across this temple, and hoped to meet some one who +might help me. You see, I am a stranger in this part of the world. I--I +hope I have done no wrong?" + +She looked at him pleadingly, but he ignored her question. It never +occurred to him to doubt her explanation, or wonder at the unlikeliness of +the chance which should have led her through the intricate paths to this +hallowed spot. + +"You are English?" he echoed. The fever in his blood was subsiding, but, +like some great crisis, it was leaving him changed. It had swept him out +of the world of languorous, enchanted dreams into a world of not less +enchanted reality. + +"I fear I am presumptuous," she began again; "but are you not the Rajah? +If so, I am certain you must be very, very angry. For the Rajah--so I have +been told--does not love the English." + +She smiled again, meeting his unwavering gaze with a frank good-humor +which for him was more wonderful even than her beauty. No woman--and for +that matter, no man--had ever dared to look him in the eyes with such a +laughing, fearless challenge. + +"Yes, I am the Rajah," he answered. Then, after a pause, he added with +great simplicity, "You are very beautiful." + +She laughed outright, and the laugh, which rang like the peal of a silver +bell through the vaulted chamber, filled him with a sudden sense of her +danger. She stood with her back turned indifferently on the golden image, +an Unbeliever whose shod feet were defiling the sacred precincts, an +object, then, for hatred and revenge--not for him, truly. In his eyes she +was still an emissary from Brahma, and thus in herself half sacred; but he +knew well enough that such would not be the opinion of the few fierce +priests who worshiped in the temple. + +"You are not safe here," he said, with an energy which was new to him. +"Come!" + +He led her hurriedly out of the sanctuary into the great entrance hall. +There he slackened speed and waited until she reached his side. + +"For a foreigner it is not safe to enter the temple," he explained. "Had +any one but myself found you, I could not answer for the consequences." + +"They would have harmed me?" + +"It is possible." + +"That would have been terrible!" she said, glancing at him with eyes that +expressed rather a daring courage than fear. + +"Most terrible," he assented earnestly. + +"Yet--you also, Your Highness, you have also the same reasons for anger. +My intrusion, innocent though it was, must have been equally offensive to +you." + +"No," he said. "That is quite different." + +He offered no further explanation, and together they passed out of the two +immense gopuras into the evening sunshine. + +"I will bring you to the gates which lead on to the highroad," he went on. +"Thence one of my servants will conduct you back to the town, where I +trust you will find your friends." + +"You are most good," she answered gratefully. + +They walked side by side between the high walls of cypress and palm. The +path was a narrow one, and once his hand brushed lightly against hers. The +touch sent a flood of fire through his young veins. He drew back with a +courtesy which surprised himself. He had never been taught that courtesy +toward a woman could ever be required of him. Of women he had heard little +save that they were inferior, in intellect and judgment no more than +slaves, and his curiosity had at once been satiated. He sought things +above him--those beneath him excited no more than indifference. But this +woman was neither an inferior nor a slave. Her free, erect carriage, +steadfast, fearless eyes proclaimed the equal. So much his instinct taught +him in those brief moments, and his eager curiosity concerning her grew +and deepened. Every now and again his gaze sought her face, drinking in +with an almost passionate thirst the fine detail of her profile, compared +to which his dreams were poor and lifeless. Once it chanced that she also +glanced at him, and that they looked at each other for less than a +breathing space full in the eyes. + +"I fear you are angry, Your Highness," she said earnestly. "I must have +offended against your laws even more than I know." + +"Why do you think I am angry?" he asked. + +"You have scarcely spoken." + +"Forgive me! That is no sign of anger. I am still overcome with the +strangeness of it all. You are the first English person I have ever met." + +She stood still, with an exclamation of surprise. + +"Is that possible? I thought all Indian princes mixed with English people. +Many, indeed, go to England to be educated--" + +"So I have heard," he broke in, with a faint haughtiness. "I am not one of +them." + +"Yet you speak the language so perfectly!" she said. + +A gleam of naive pleasure shone out of his dark eyes. + +"I am glad you think so. My--one of my ministers taught me." + +They walked on again. Here and there she stopped to look at some curious +plant--always a little in advance of him--so that he had opportunity to +study the hundred things about her which confirmed his wondering, +increasing admiration. Slight as she was, there was yet a gracefully +controlled strength in every movement. In his own mind, poor as it +necessarily was in comparisons, he compared her to a young doe he had once +startled from its resting-place. There was the same fragile beauty, the +same grace, the same high-strung energy. In nothing was she like the women +painted for him by his father's hand--things for idle, sensuous pleasure, +never for serious action. + +Plunged in a happy confusion of thought, he had once more relapsed into +silence, from which she startled him with a question evidently connected +with their previous conversation. + +"And so you have lived all your life in this lovely garden?" she said, +looking up at him with a grave wonder in her eyes. + +"All my life," he answered. + +"You have never seen anything of the world?" + +"Never." He felt the pity in her tone, and added, with a shamefacedness +curiously in contrast with his former hauteur: "But I have read much." + +"That is not the same thing," she returned. "No book could make you +understand how wonderful and beautiful things are." + +He looked at her, and for a second time their eyes met. + +"You are right," he said. "Hitherto I have thought myself all-wise. I have +studied hard, and I believed there was nothing I did not know. Now I see +that there are wonders in the world of which I have never even dreamed." + +Her glance wavered beneath the undisguised admiration in his eyes and +voice. Then she asked gently: + +"Now that you have seen, will you not leave your hermitage? Surely it is +wrong to shut one's heart against the world in which one lives. There is +so much work to be done, so much to learn, and you have been granted power +and wealth, Your Highness. The call upon your help is greater than upon +others." + +His brows knitted. + +"Do you hate us so?" she asked. + +"Hate you?" he repeated wonderingly. "Why should I hate you?" + +"Yet, from your tone, I judged that you had kept seclusion because +intercourse with my country-people meant defilement," she said boldly. + +A flush crept up under his dark skin. + +"Those are things I can not explain," he said; "but they have nothing to +do with hatred. I have heard much of the English heroes. Their deeds of +daring and self-sacrifice have filled my heart with love and veneration. I +know that they are the greatest and noblest people of the earth. I love +great and noble people. I do not hate them." + +"I am glad," she said. + +They had reached the gates which opened out on to the highroad, and as +though by mutual consent both came to a standstill. + +"Your Highness has been most good to me," she went on. "I can find my way +perfectly now. I am only puzzled to know how I should ever have lost it so +much as to have wandered into your garden." + +"Some sentry must have slept," he remarked grimly. + +"But you will not punish any one?" + +"Whoever it was, he was only the servant of destiny, like us all," he +said. "No harm shall come to him." He paused, and then added with a slight +effort: "One of the sentries shall accompany you." + +"No, no," she answered energetically. "That is not necessary. I would +rather go alone." + +He pointed upward to the sky, whose blue was deepening into the violet +shades of night. + +"It will be dark before you reach your destination," he said. "Are you not +afraid?" + +She laughed merrily. + +"Of what should I be afraid? There are no maneaters about here, as I +understand. As for men, I am prepared to encounter at least six of them. +Look!" She drew from the bosom of her dress a small revolver of exquisite +workmanship, and held it out to him. "It has all six chambers loaded," she +added. + +He took the weapon, pretending to examine it; but his pulses had +recommenced their painful beating, and he saw nothing but her face. + +"Are all Englishwomen so brave and beautiful?" + +This time she did not laugh at the simplicity of the question. + +"Come and see," she answered boldly. He said nothing, and she went on: "At +any rate, I must go now. My people will be very anxious, and I have so +much to tell them. They will envy me the privilege I have enjoyed of +seeing your wonderful gardens. I shall tell them how kind you have been to +a foolish wanderer." + +"If the gardens please you, they are always open to you," he said. + +She shook her head sadly. + +"I am afraid it is not possible. You see, I could not come alone. +Propriety will forgive me this once, because it was an accident--a second +time, and my reputation would be gone for ever." She held out her hand +frankly. "So it must be good-by for ever!" + +An instant he hesitated, torn between a deep ingrained principle and +desire. Then he took the small hand in his own. + +"It will not be good-by for ever," he said. "We shall meet again." + +"I should be glad. We have been quite good friends, haven't we? But you +see, you will be in a garden into which I may not enter, and I in a world +which for you is forbidden ground. I am afraid there is no hope." + +"Nevertheless, we shall meet again," he repeated. + +"Why are you so certain?" + +He smiled dreamily. + +"Nothing in this world happens without purpose," he answered. "So much my +books and eyes have taught me. We do not drift aimlessly into each other's +lives. We are borne on the breast of a strong current which flows out of +the river of Fate, and whether we meet for good or evil is according to +the will of God. But of one thing I am sure: it must be for good or evil." + +For a moment she said nothing. Her face was turned away from him, and when +at last she spoke, her voice had lost something of its daring certainty. + +"I hope, then, our meeting is for our good," she said. + +"I feel that it is," he answered. + +He led her past the bewildered, terrified sentry on to the grey, dusty +highroad. It was the first time that his feet had crossed the threshold. + +"I shall watch you till you are out of sight," he said. "Good-by." + +"Good-by--and thank you!" + +According to his word, he stood where she had left him, his eyes fixed +immovably, like those of a bronze statue, on the slight, elastic figure, +as it hurried toward the lights of the distant Station. When at last the +purple mist had swallowed her from his sight, he looked up toward the +heavens. + +Just where the mist ended and the clear sky began, the evening star rose +in its first splendor and shone through the dry atmosphere, signaling to +its fellows that night was come. One by one others followed. As time +passed, the moon in a cloud of silver lifted herself in stately progress +above the black outline of the jungle and touched with her first beams the +filigree minarets of the temple. + +Nehal Singh bowed his head in prayer. + +"Oh, Lord Brahma, I thank thee!" + +A short-lived breath of evening air caught up the passionate murmur of his +voice and mingled it with the rustling of the Sacred Tree whose restless, +shimmering, silver leaves hung above his head. He understood their whisper +as he listened. It was the accents of the god to whom he prayed, and all +the poetic mysticism of his nature responded to the call. + +"Oh, Lord Brahma, Creator, I thank thee!" he repeated; then turned, and +with head still bowed, passed back through the high marble gates. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ARCHIBALD TRAVERS PLAYS BRIDGE + + +The ayah put the last touches to Beatrice Cary's golden hair, drew back a +little to judge the general effect, and then handed her mistress the +handglass. + +"Is that well so, missy?" she asked. "Missy look wonderful +to-night--wonderful!" + +Beatrice examined herself carefully and critically, without any show of +impatience. Only a close observer would have noticed that her eyes had the +strained, concentrated look of a person whose thoughts are centered +elsewhere than on the immediate subject. + +"Yes, that will do," she assented, after a moment. "You have done extra +well to-night. You can go." + +"Not help missy with dress?" + +"No, you can go. I shall only want you again when I come back." + +The ayah fidgeted with the garments that lay scattered about the room, but +an imperative gesture hastened her exit, and she slipped silently from the +room, drawing the curtains after her. + +Beatrice watched her departure in the glass, and then, turning in her +chair, looked at the languid, exhausted figure upon the couch. + +"Now, if you have anything to say, mother, say it," she said. "We are +quite alone." + +"I have a great deal to say," Mrs. Cary began, in a tone of extreme +injury, "and first of all, I must ask you not to interrupt me in the way +you did just now before the--the what-do-you-call-it?--the ayah. I can not +and will not stand being corrected before my own servants." + +"I did not correct you," Beatrice returned coldly. "I stopped you from +making disclosures to ears which know enough English to understand more +than is good for either of us, and whose discretion is on a par with that +of our late friend, Mary Jane. It seems impossible to make you realize +that English is not a dead language." + +"You are very rude to me!" Mrs. Cary protested, in high, quavering tones +that threatened tears. "Very rude! Beatrice, you ought to be ashamed--" + +"I am not rude. I am only telling you the simple truth." + +"Well, then, you are not respectful." + +"Respectful!" The reiteration was accompanied with a laugh which +brought into use all the harsh, unpleasing notes in the girl's voice. +She turned away from her mother, and with one white elbow resting on +the dressing-table, began to play idly with the silver ornaments. "No, +I suppose I am not respectful," she went on calmly. "I think we are too +intimate for that, mother. We know each other too well, and have spoken +about things too plainly. People, I imagine, only retain the respect of +their fellow-creatures so long as they keep themselves and their projects +a haloed mystery. That isn't our case. There are no haloes or mysteries +between us, are there?" + +"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Mrs. Cary declared plaintively. +"There are moments, Beatrice, when I think you talk nonsense." + +"I am sure you do!" An ironical smile played an instant round the small +mouth, then she went on calmly: "Let us put our personal grievances +against each other aside, mother. _Revenons a nos moutons._ You were +saying, when I interrupted you, that you were afraid of Mr. Travers. Why?" + +"Why! You know as well as I do. I recognized him at once, and the sight of +his face nearly gave me a heart stroke. Of course you remember him. He +gave evidence against your poor, dear father when--" + +Beatrice Cary held up her hand. + +"That is one of the advantages of having discarded the mystery and halo," +she said. "We do not need to go into any details concerning ourselves or +the past. I know quite well to what you refer. To be quite honest, I _did_ +recognize him, only I did not let him see that I did." + +"And then you ask why I am afraid!" + +"I fail to see what harm he can do us." + +"He can tell the truth." + +Beatrice Cary rose and began to slip into the white silk dress which hung +across the back of her chair. + +"The truth!" she said meditatively. "That is something, mother, of which, +I fear, you and I will never rid ourselves. It has chased us out of +England and out of all possible parts of Europe; and, large though India +is, it seems already to have tracked us down. It has a good nose for +fugitives, apparently." + +Mrs. Cary sat up, mopping her florid face free from tears of irritability. + +"You will drive me mad one of these days!" she cried. "You laugh at +everything. You laugh even at this, though it concerns our whole future +here--" + +"Excuse me for interrupting you again. I take the matter very much to +heart--so much so that there are moments when I am thoroughly weary of it, +and feel inclined to write on a large placard: 'Here standeth Beatrice +McConnel, alias Cary, daughter of the--'" + +"Be silent!" broke in the elder woman furiously. "Do you really want the +whole Station to be taken into our confidence?" + +"I am sorry!" with half-sincere, half-mocking contrition. "I am as bad as +you are. But, as I say, there are times when I should like to shriek the +truth in the world's face, and see what it would do. I don't think +anything could be worse than our present life." + +"If you did anything of the sort, I should take poison," Mrs. Cary +declared. + +"No, you wouldn't. We should move on to another continent, and try our +luck there, that's all. It's the very futility of truth-telling which +prevents me from experimenting in that direction. Perhaps, as you suggest, +Mr. Travers will take the task from my shoulders." + +Mrs. Cary rose to her feet and came ponderously over to her daughter's +side. Her voice, when she spoke, was troubled with genuine emotion. + +"Beatrice," she said, "I don't ask respect of you--I don't suppose it +would be any sort of good if I did. You haven't any respect in you. But at +any rate have some consideration for me. You needn't make my life worse +than it is. It's no use your saying to me, 'Give up the money, and hide +your head.' I can't. I never could hide my head, and at the bottom _I_ +don't believe you could either. It's the way we are made. Ever since I was +a little child, and played about in my father's shop, I wanted people to +bow down to me and respect me. I meant that one day they should. When I +married they did--for a time at least. When the crash came, and--and all +the shame, I just ran away from it. I couldn't have done anything else. +Ever since then I have been trying to build things up elsewhere, and I had +to have money for it. You can't blame me, Beatrice. You aren't any better. +You always want to be first in your singing and your painting, you always +want the best of what's going. You always want to be admired and +successful in everything you do. You take after me in that." A note of +curious pride crept into her voice. "So it's just like this, Beatrice--I +can't live without position. I may not take poison, but I shall die all +the same if I can't play a part in the world. All I ask is that you help +me all you can. It's not much. I've been a pretty decent mother to you. +You can't say that there was ever a time when I grudged you a pretty frock +or a dance--" She stopped in her long speech, yielding to Beatrice's +irrepressible gesture of impatience. + +"You needn't have gone into so much explanation," the girl said, fastening +a small diamond pendant round her white neck. "I know you and I know +myself. As to my gratitude, I am fully aware of what I owe you, and am +ready to pay. What do you want me to do?" + +"Don't go against me." + +"I haven't done so yet. I don't mean to. As far as I can recollect, I've +pulled us both out of as many scrapes as you have landed us into," +Beatrice replied. + +"I know. That's why I want you to do your best now." + +"To do what?" + +"To keep Marut tolerable for us." + +"I can't prevent Mr. Travers gossiping if he wants to." + +A smile flitted over Mrs. Cary's fat face, robbing it of its good-nature +and leaving it merely vulgarly cunning. + +"You could if you wanted to." + +"How?" + +"Oh, you know! You have a way with men. You could shut his mouth." + +Beatrice laughed outright. + +"There are moments when you betray your origin in the most painful way, +mother," she said cruelly. "A remark like that in Mrs. Carmichael's +hearing, and we should find Marut too hot for us without any assistance +from Mr. Travers." + +"I'm sorry," Mrs. Cary apologized humbly. "It slipped out. What I meant +was, that I am sure you could manage him. And you know you could, +Beatrice." + +Beatrice looked at her reflection in the glass. There was little feminine +vanity in the glance--rather a cool judging and appraising, untempered +with any personal prejudice. + +"I suppose I could," she admitted. + +"Won't you?" + +"Would it make you very happy?" + +"It would be my first moment's real peace since I saw Mr. Travers at the +garden-party." + +"Well, I'll do my best." + +"You promise?" + +"Yes, I'll promise if you want me to." + +Mrs. Cary drew a deep sigh of relief. + +"That's one thing about you, you keep your promises, Beatrice," she said. + +"It is rather curious, under the circumstances, isn't it?" the younger +woman returned, submitting to the mother's grateful embrace with an +indifference which seemed to indicate more than an indifference--rather a +stoic, smothered antipathy. When it was over, and Mrs. Cary had once more +ensconced herself on the lounge, Beatrice shook her shoulders as though +thrusting something intensely disagreeable away from her. + +"In any case, it may be too late," she said, putting the finishing touches +to her toilet. "If Mr. Travers meant to tell, he has probably done so +already. I shall be able to judge by Mrs. Carmichael's hand-shake +to-night." + +"We must hope for the best," returned Mrs. Cary, with pious resignation. + +The two women relapsed into silence. Beatrice hovered lightly about the +room, collecting her fan, handkerchief and gloves, every now and again +casting the same curious, unloving glance at herself in the long mirror. +Presently she went to the window and pulled aside the muslin curtain. + +"Some one is driving up the avenue," she said. "It's a dog-cart. I wonder +who it is." + +"A dog-cart!" Mrs. Cary repeated thoughtfully. "Now, who has a dog-cart in +Marut? Not many people, I fancy." A dull flush mounted her coarse cheeks. +"Why," she exclaimed, "I believe Mr. Travers has!" + +Beatrice dropped the curtain back into its place. + +"That would be a coincidence, wouldn't it?" she remarked, with a faint +irony from which her tone had never been wholly free. + +A minute later the ayah entered the room. + +"Travers Sahib is here," she announced. "He asks if missy drive with him +to the Colonel Sahib in his cart. Travers Sahib waiting." + +Beatrice and her mother exchanged glances. + +"Very well," Beatrice then said quietly. "Tell Travers Sahib I shall be +delighted. Paul need not bring round the carriage." + +The ayah retired, and with an undisturbed calm Beatrice proceeded to slip +into her evening cloak. + +"At any rate, he hasn't spoken yet," she said. "Fate seems to mean well +with you, mother." + +"It all depends on you, Beatrice," the other returned impressively. + +"Do you think so? Well, I have half-an-hour's drive before +me--tete-a-tete. I dare say I shall manage. Good night!" She patted her +mother lightly on the hand as she passed her on the way to the door. + +"Good-by, my dear. Do your best, won't you?" + +"Haven't I been brought up to do my best?" Beatrice answered with a laugh. + +She hurried on to the verandah which faced out on the drive, the ayah +accompanying her with numerous wraps and shawls. Archibald Travers, who +had remained seated, greeted her with a cheerful wave of the whip. + +"Please excuse my getting down, Miss Cary," he said. "My horse is in a +state of mind which does not allow for politeness. Can you trust yourself +to his tender care?" + +"I am not in the least nervous," she answered, scrambling up to his side, +"and a drive through this lovely air is worth a few risks. I was dreading +the half-hour alone in our stuffy brougham." + +"I'm glad I came, then," he said. "I heard that Mrs. Cary was ill and +could not go, but I was not sure whether you would care for it. There, are +you tucked in all right? Can we start?" + +"Yes, by all means." + +He cracked his whip, and immediately the impatient chestnut sprang forward +into the darkness. They swayed dangerously through the compound gates on +to the broad, straight highroad. + +Beatrice laughed with excitement. + +"That was splendid!" she exclaimed, pulling her cloak closer round her. +"How well you drive!" + +"You seem to enjoy danger," he said, with an amused smile. + +"Yes, I enjoy it," she answered, more gravely. "It is the only flavoring +which I have hitherto discovered in life. The rest is rather insipid, +don't you think?" + +"You talk like a man," he said. + +"I have been brought up to be independent and fight for myself," she +returned. "That sort of thing does away with the principal differences +between the sexes." + +As she spoke they dashed suddenly into an avenue of high trees through +whose branches the moonlight played fantastic, uncanny shadows on the +white road. Travers' horse shied violently, and for some minutes his work +was cut out for him in pacifying the excited animal. When they were once +more bowling smoothly over the open plain, he glanced down at the girl +beside him. + +She was smiling to herself. + +"You have nerve!" he remarked admiringly. + +"I have lots more when it is wanted," she answered, looking up at him. The +light struck full on their faces, and they could read each other's +expressions as clearly as if it had been midday. + +"How much farther is it at the rate we are going?" she asked. + +"Another twenty minutes." + +"Another twenty minutes!" she repeated thoughtfully. "That is quite a long +time, isn't it?" + +He flicked his whip across the horse's ears. + +"Yes, and I'm glad," he said. "Otherwise, I shouldn't have seen much of +you. I happen to know that I am taking in Miss Caruthers to dinner, and +dinner takes up most of the evening at these functions." + +"You are taking in Lois Caruthers!" she said, laughing. "I know of some +one who will be annoyed." + +"Stafford, you mean?" + +"And Lois herself." + +He joined in her amusement. + +"Yes, I suppose so." + +"You have a good-natured hostess. I dare say the arrangement could be +altered if you wished it." + +"But I don't. They happen to be _my_ arrangements, you see." + +"Oh!" she ejaculated, somewhat taken back. + +"On my left there will be Mrs. James, who, as you perhaps know, is stone +deaf," he went on calmly. "On Miss Caruthers' right will be Mr. James, who +from long custom never opens his mouth except to put something into it. +Stafford will be right at the other end of the table." + +"You are malicious," she said. + +"Not a bit. I only go hard for what I want, that's all." He chuckled to +himself and then went on: "I've confided to you my subtle underground +plans--why, goodness knows. I'm not usually of a confiding nature. But +really, Miss Cary, I feel as though I had known you all my life." + +"We have already plotted together," she said. "Possibly that forms some +sort of link between us." + +He glanced down at her, and this time, as she did not return his gaze, he +was free to study her calm, undisturbed profile. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed, half under his breath, "I don't blame the young +fool for being taken in." + +Her brows contracted sharply. + +"Thank you. I suppose that is a compliment." + +"It is meant for one. By the way, are you really sure of your success?" + +"Perfectly sure." + +"That's a good thing. We shall have the laugh over old Stafford and his +grandmother's ideas if it comes off. All I fear is that the youth's +impressionable mind may lose its impressions as quickly as it receives +them." + +"I don't think so. He did not seem that sort." + +"Besides," added Travers, with a sudden drawl, "your face is not one that +a man forgets easily, Miss Cary." + +She stirred very slightly in her seat. It was the instinctive movement of +a woman bracing herself secretly for a coming shock. + +"Really?" + +"Yes, really. That was what I meant to tell you the other day, but there +was no fitting opportunity. I recognized you at once." + +"And I you," she returned. + +He whistled. + +"So we recognized each other and didn't recognize each other. Rather a +queer thing, eh?" + +Again there was that scarcely noticeable stiffening of her whole body. + +"I see nothing queer about it. We were both taken aback, and after the +first shock we realized that to acknowledge a previous meeting was not to +either of our advantages. You were ashamed; and I--well, you can guess my +reasons." + +"By Jove! You know, you really are plucky!" he burst out, with genuine +admiration. + +"Thank you. You have intimated that to me already, and, as a matter of +fact, there is no question of pluck. I'm taking the bull by the horns +because I must. Mr. Travers, I can't live in the same place with you and +not know if you are going to explode the mine under our feet or not. I may +have nerve, but I haven't got nerve enough for that." + +"I see. You want to know whether I am going to gossip or hold my tongue. +Is that it?" + +"Yes, that's it." + +"Suppose I gossip?" + +"I see no reason why you should be our enemy, so I don't mind admitting to +you that it would spoil our plans." + +"What may they be?" + +"Firstly, to get clear of everything that has happened. We've tried to do +that in different places all over Europe, without success. Something or +somebody has always cropped up and driven us away. It was just as though +every one least concerned in the matter had made up their minds to track +us down. At last mother thought of India, and of Marut in particular. My +father held a small post somewhere about here before we left for England, +and we make out that it is tender associations and all that sort of thing. +Of course, we might be found out any day, but perhaps people are not so +curious out here, and it gives us a rest." + +"Might I ask why you take all this trouble?" + +"I was going to tell you. Because my mother wants what she calls +position--she wants to mix with the best. We couldn't do that in England, +for the reasons I have given you. As for me--I fulfil my destiny. I am +seeking a suitable husband." + +He drew in his breath in something that was not unlike a gasp. + +"My dear Miss Cary, do you know what the world--particularly the woman +world--would call you?" + +"_Does_ call me, you mean? Of course. An adventuress." + +"To be quite frank, you've hit it. But I don't. I call you a jolly +extraordinary and clever woman." + +"Please don't pay me compliments," she said coldly. "My cleverness--if I +have any--is not more than that of any hunted animal who seeks cover where +best he can. As to my being extraordinary, I do not see that you have any +reason to call me so. You might as well say that it is extraordinary when +a weed springs up where a weed has been sown--" + +"Or a flower," he interposed suavely. + +She sank back in her seat, saying nothing. Her silence was a weary sort of +protest. + +Travers pulled out his watch with his free hand. + +"We have only five minutes more," he said. "We are splendidly up to time. +I tell you what, Miss Cary--you can eat Colonel Carmichael's dinner in +peace." She looked quickly at him. "I mean that I shall hold my tongue. I +don't know that I ever intended doing anything else. I am not responsible +to society, and in any case, no direct blame for the past can attach +itself to you. As it is, after your confidence, I give you my word that +I'll do my best to see you through here. You deserve it, and I have always +had a sneaking sympathy for the hunted fox and the much-abused weed. You +can be quite easy in your mind." + +"Thank you," she said without much warmth. + +"I have only one condition--" he went on, and then hesitated. + +"I was waiting for that," she said. + +He laughed good-naturedly. + +"You know me very well already." + +"I know men," she retorted. + +"Well, then, I have a condition. Please don't look upon me as a sort of +blackmailer. If you don't choose to agree to the condition, you needn't. I +shan't on that account go round gossiping about your affairs. At the same +time, I expect you would rather drive a fair and square bargain with me +than be in any way in my debt." + +"You are quite right," she said quickly. + +"My condition is merely this: I want you, if the time and opportunity ever +present themselves, to lend me a hand with my plans. I confess privately +to you I have one or two irons in the fire up at Marut, and that it is +pretty hard work single-handed. You are a clever woman, say what you like, +and your help would be invaluable." + +"In what way?" + +"I will put it as short as possible. You know, Miss Cary, I am not a rich +man, but I have got some big ideas and one at least of them requires +wealth to be carried out. I have every reason to believe that considerable +mineral treasure lies buried under the native Bazaar in Marut, but I can +do nothing unless some one comes to my assistance both with authority and +money. The Rajah is the very man, if only I can get him interested in my +project. Will you help me?" + +"As I have gone so far I might as well go on," she assented indifferently. + +"Thanks. Then there is something else--I want to marry Lois Caruthers." + +Beatrice started and looked up at him as though she thought he might be +joking. His face had indeed undergone a change, but there was something +stern, resolute, almost brutal in the hard-set profile. + +"Indeed? Will that not be more difficult? There is Stafford in the way, +and Stafford--" + +"Stafford must be cleared out of the way," he interrupted, with a cool +decision which his expression partly belied. "I believe she is fond of him +and he of her in a Platonic sort of fashion which might lead to marriage +and might not. He is not the danger. There is a fellow, Nicholson, +though--" + +He stopped short and seemed for an instant to be plunged in his own +thoughts. + +"Who is this Nicholson?" she asked curiously. "I have heard his name +constantly since I have been here. People talk of him as though he were a +demigod. Why are you afraid of him?" + +"Just because of his godlike qualities," Travers explained, with a laugh. +"In earlier ages, no doubt, he would have been a god and among the natives +he is one. In reality, he is an ordinary mortal blessed with an +extraordinary influence. I believe he is a captain in some native regiment +on the frontiers and has done grand work there. I heard today that he is +coming down to Marut on leave." + +"Oh--?" + +"He was Lois' old playfellow," Travers added pointedly. + +"And so you are afraid of him?" + +"All women adore heroes of that type," he remarked without mockery or +bitterness, "and when Nicholson appears I have a fair idea that Stafford +and I will have to be content with the back seats in Lois' affections. You +see, they were great friends, and moreover the Carmichaels have their +matrimonial eye on him. So it's now or never as far as I am concerned." + +"And Stafford--?" + +He looked down at her with a jolly laugh. + +"He must find consolation elsewhere. I thought he would do for you, Miss +Cary." + +"Thanks!" + +"Don't be ungrateful. Rich, good position, good family, worthy character, +a trifle slow, not to say stupid--what more do you want?" + +"You talk as though--" + +"--As though he were being given away with a pound of tea? Well, so he is +to all intents and purposes. One can do anything with an honest, +pig-headed man like that if only one takes him the right way. He would +suit you clear down to the ground, and if you will help me I will help +you. Is that a bargain?" + +They were now in sight of their destination, and he pulled his horse into +a walk. + +"Well, what do you say, Miss Cary?" + +He tried to look into her face, but it was turned resolutely away, and all +he could see was a grave profile which might have belonged to a much older +woman. + +"Well?" he repeated. + +They were entering the drive which led up to the brightly lighted bungalow +before she answered. + +"It's a bargain then," she said. "I promise." + +He pressed her hand with his left. + +"That's all right," he said cheerily. "You won't find yourself +overburdened. The case is just this: we're partners, you and I, with some +good cards between us. Just at present it's my call, and your hand goes +down. Do you understand?" + +"Pretty well," she answered. + +They pulled up at the open doorway, and flinging the reins to the waiting +syce, Travers sprang to the ground. + +"By the way, I believe you go in to dinner with Stafford," he remarked +casually as he helped her to alight. "I hope you will get on well +together." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BREAKING THE BARRIER + + +The Colonel's dinner-party was Beatrice's first great triumph in the face +of her enemies. They were all there and all armed to the teeth with spite +and envy. There was, for instance, Mrs. Berry with her marriageable if +somewhat plain daughter, and many more women besides to whom the beautiful +girl was of necessity an unforgivable opponent. The more the men laughed +at her quick and occasionally rather pointed observations, the more an +obvious admiration shone out of their criticisms, the more determined the +hatred became. Among themselves they had already fulfilled Travers' +prophecy and had christened her "the Adventuress" for no other reason than +that she was a woman with the same ambitions as themselves, but better +accoutred for success. Truly, she had made no bid for their favor, +choosing to stand alone and without their support; but even had she done +so it would have been useless. She wore an enemy's color in her face, and +keen, pitiless eyes had already probed into the innermost depths of her +plans and found them dangerous. + +In the middle of the dinner the Colonel broke the news that the whole of +the English community had been invited by the Rajah to a reception in the +palace grounds. He made the announcement with evident reluctance, and +Beatrice was conscious that Stafford, who sat beside her, stiffened and +frowned. The sense of opposition and disapproval on the part of the man +whom she had set out to conquer put her on her metal, and with the verve +and _sang-froid_ of a woman too sure of her own power to know fear, she +related her adventure in the temple. Her hearers listened, according to +their sex, with amusement, curiosity and pious horror. Some were +unreservedly delighted, others--such as the Colonel and +Stafford--struggled between a certain admiration for her and a decided +disapproval of her action and its results. Yet Stafford at least was a +soldier before he was a conventionalist, and her bold, well-played comedy +in the temple of Vishnu, told simply, but with fire and energy, could not +fail to stir to flame the embers of his own daring. From that time he +ceased to rivet his attention to the other end of the table, where Lois +was sitting, and Beatrice was conscious that she had won the first move in +the great game which she had set herself to play. The next day the whole +Station was made aware of the startling change in the Rajah's attitude and +the means by which it had been brought about, but no one, not even those +who were disposed to judge the matter in its most serious light, guessed +what passed within the palace previous to the sending out of the now +famous invitation. For the greater part of the English community the whole +thing was rather a bad joke, with the Rajah for its victim. That a pretty +woman should have unbarred the gates which no other force, diplomacy or +cunning had been able to stir was a matter for light, somewhat +contemptuous laughter. Rajah Nehal Singh was nicknamed the Impressionable +Swain. He and Beatrice Cary were linked together either in good-natured +chaff or malicious earnest, and curiosity, thanks to the dullness of the +season, strained itself in expectation. + +Thus, beyond the marble gates the world laughed, and inside Life and Death +had faced each other and for a moment hung in the balance. + +It was toward the cool of the evening. Behar Asor and the prince paced +slowly backward and forward in the chief entrance hall of the palace, +plunged in a conversation which was to mark a final stage in their +relationship toward each other. Both knew it, and on both faces was +written the same determination--a determination curiously tempered and +moulded by the character of the man himself. On Behar Asor's furrowed, +withered face it was resolve, armed with treachery and all the hundred and +one weapons of oriental cunning. Nehal Singh's head was lifted in calm, +unshakable confidence. He had no need of weapons. He had seen his destiny, +and the obstacle which would be thrown in his path would, with equal +certainty, be thrown out of it. He felt himself extraordinarily strong. + +His very surroundings seemed to fortify him with their splendor. Other +parts of the palace bore the grievous traces of a past devastating +race-hatred; crumbling pillars, images whose jeweled eyes had been made +dark and lifeless by robber hands; broken pavements, defaced carvings--all +these pointed to a period in human life which was gone for ever, a period +of mad fanaticism and passionate clinging to the Old in defiance of the +New. Here the New was triumphant. Hands still living had raised the mighty +golden dome; the fountain whose waters bubbled up from the Sacred Tank +within the temple was his own creation. The whole place became a sort of +outward and visible sign of the New Life, New Era, which was opening out +before him, and the old man at his side was nothing more than a relic, a +piece of clinging wreckage. Yesterday he had been a wise man whose +judgment and guidance was a thing to be considered. + +But between Yesterday and Today there is occasionally a long night in +which much may happen. A life may go out, a life may come in; a devil may +become a saint, or a saint a devil; a man may swing from one pole of +opinion to another, and this last is perhaps the easiest of all. For it +does not require much to change a man's standpoint. A very little thing +will make him turn on his heel and look at a piece of the landscape which +he has hitherto chosen to ignore or despise, and probably acknowledge that +it is finer than his hitherto obstinately retained outlook. A very little +thing--like Columbus' egg--if one only knew just what it was! The little +thing in Nehal Singh's life had been a woman's face. It shone between him +and his old gods; it smiled at him from amidst the shadows of his +imagination, beckoning him unceasingly to follow. And he was +following--with the reckless speed of a man who had been kept inactive too +long at the starting point of life. + +"I am weary of all that has hitherto been," he told Behar Asor. "My palace +has become a prison from which I must free myself. The very air I breathe +is heavy with sleep and dreams. It suffocates me. I must have life--here +and without." + +"I understand thee too well," came the answer from compressed lips. "The +curse is on thee. Thou wilt go among my enemies, and it is I, with my +mistaken wisdom, who have opened thy path to them. It was I who taught +thee their tongue, their knowledge, their law, that when the time came +thou shouldst stand before them more than their equal. This is my +punishment." + +"It is no punishment. It is the will of God." + +"The will of God!" The old man threw up his hands with a wild laugh that +echoed among the pillars. "It is the will of the devil, who has been my +curse and shall be thine! Ay, ay, look not at me! It is true. Thinkest +thou that I have brought thee up in solitude without cause? Thinkest thou +that I have hidden thee like a miser his treasure, in the dark, unseen +places, for a whim? Son, I have suffered as I pray thou mayst not have to +suffer, and I have within my heart a serpent of hatred whose sting I would +thou couldst feel." He paused, biting his lip as though the pain he +described was actual and physical. "Go not among the Unbelievers!" he +continued vigorously. "Let not their shadow defile thee! For their breath +is poison, and in their eyes is a deadly flame--or if thou goest, let it +be with steeled breast and in thy right hand a sword of vengeance!" + +"I can not," Nehal Singh answered impatiently. "Nor do I believe what thou +sayest. This people is surely brave and good. I know, for I have read--" + +"Read!" the old man interrupted, with another burst of stormy laughter. +"What is it to read? To see with the eyes and feel with the body--that +alone can bring true wisdom. And I have seen and felt! Callest thou a +people 'good' who drink our hospitality and spit upon us--who hail us +with their unclean right hand and steal our honor with their left?" + +Nehal Singh stopped short. + +"What meanest thou?" he demanded. + +"I have a meaning!" was the stern answer. "I will tell thee now what I +have never told thee before--I will tell thee of a young man who, like +thyself, was fearless, impetuous, a lover of the new and strange, who went +out into the world, and welcomed the White People as a deliverer and +friend. I will tell thee how he flung down caste and prejudice to welcome +them, drank in their Thought and Culture, trembled on the brink of their +Religion. Already the path had been broken for him. His mother's sister +had married out of her race--an Englishman--I know not how it came +about--and their child followed in her steps. I will tell thee how the +young man came to know this cousin and her husband, also an Unbeliever. +How often these two became his guests I will not tell thee. He took +pleasure in their presence, partly for his mother's sake, partly because +the white race had become dear to him. They brought others with them, and +among them an English officer. Hear now further. + +"This young man had one wife, following the English custom--one wife more +beautiful than her sisters, whom he loved as a man loves but once in life. +In his madness, in spite of warnings of his priests, he gave her the +freedom almost of an English-woman. Wheresoever he went she followed him; +with her at his right hand he received his English guests; it was she who +sang to them--" He ground his teeth in a sudden outburst of rage. "Mad, +mad was I! Mad to trust a woman, and to trust the stranger! Son, the night +came when my wife sang no more to me, and the stranger's shadow ceased to +darken my threshold. Three years I sought them--three years; then one +night she came back to me. He had cast her from him. She lay dead at my +feet." His voice shook. "In vain I sought justice. There is no justice for +such things among the White People--not for themselves and not for us. I +drew my sword and in hatred and scorn as deep as my love and reverence had +been high, I slew my way to the false devil who had betrayed me. Him I +slew--and his pale wife I--" + +"Who was this man?" Nehal Singh asked heavily. + +"I know not. His name has passed from me. But the hate remains. For with +that act of treachery he drew back the veil from my blind eyes, and I saw +that they were all as he--bad, cruel, hypocrites--" + +"Not all--not all!" Nehal Singh interrupted. He stopped by the splashing +fountain and gazed dreamily into the clear waters. His own face he saw +there--and another which was neither bad, cruel, nor hypocritical, but +wholly beautiful. "Not all," he repeated. "You judge by one man. There +are others, and it is those I will see and know, and--" + +"I would rather see thee dead at my feet!" + +"My father, I will judge them as I find them," + +Nehal Singh went on imperturbably. "If they be good and noble, I will +serve and love them. If they be bad, as thou sayest--then thou shalt live +to see me do thy will." + +He heard a shrill cry, and his eyes, still fixed on the water, saw a hand +that swept upward, the flash of steel falling swiftly through the +sunshine. He swung round and tore the dagger from the nerveless hand. + +"Thou dost wrong, my father," he said, with unshaken calm. "To learn +treachery from treachery is a poor lesson. And thou canst not stay me. +What I will do I will do. Do not cross me again." + +The old man, who had shrunk back, gasping and staring, against the marble +basin, pulled himself painfully upright. + +"Ay, I did wrong," he said. "With my old hands I tried to forestall the +sword of Fate. For, mark me, the hour will come when thou wilt curse +thyself that thou didst stay my knife!" + +He tottered slowly away, vanishing like a curious twisted shadow amidst +the deeper shadows of the columns. + +Nehal Singh watched him till he was out of sight, and then, snapping the +dagger across his knee, flung the pieces into the water. They lay there, +at the bottom of the marble basin, sparkling and twinkling in the +sunshine. When he looked in, trying to conjure up once more the beautiful +face, it was always the dagger he saw. It was always the dagger he saw +when the memory of that short, violent scene came back to him--and it +came back often, springing up out of his subconscious self like an evil, +slinking shade that could never be wholly brought to rest. Yet he went on +resolutely. One barrier had given way--one more remained, and he flung +himself against it with a reckless determination which would have overcome +any resistance. But there was none. The old priest who had been his guide +and teacher welcomed him as he had always done, seated cross-legged at the +edge of the Sacred Tank, motionless, rigid, like some handsome bronze +statue of Buddha, whose eyes alone spoke of a fierce flowing life within. +He bowed his head once in return to Nehal's greeting, but as he began to +speak he interrupted him, and in a low, chanting voice uttered the last +words he was ever heard to address to any living creature: + +"Speak not to me, Son of the Night and Day, for the Spirit of the Holy Yog +is on me, and his tongue speaketh through my lips. Behold, mine eyes see +with his into the wells of the future--my heart stands still for fear of +the things that are to be. I see a Holy Temple and hear the ring of +Accursed Footsteps. I see a young man at daybreak, beautiful, strong and +upright, and I see him stand beneath the high sun like a blade of withered +grass. I see him go forth in the morning with laughter on his lips, and at +nightfall his eyes run blood. A voice calleth him from the thicket, and +wheresoever the voice calleth him he goeth. He standeth on the banks of +Holy Ganges, and behold! the waters burst from their course and pour +westward to the ocean. Behold, then shall he draw his sword against his +people, and from that hour he shall serve them and become theirs. Then +shall the doors of the temple be closed for ever, and the lips of Vishnu +silent. Go forth, son of the Evening and Morning Star! That which is to be +shall be till the stream of the Future ceaseth to flow from the mouth of +Heaven!" + +Nehal Singh listened to this strange, disjointed prophecy in perfect +silence, his eyes following the fierce stare of the old Brahman into the +oily waters of the Sacred Pool. Amidst the hundred reflections from the +temple he seemed to see each separate picture as the monotonous voice +called it up before his mind, and always it was his own face which +shimmered among the shadowy minarets, and always it was a familiar voice +calling him through the ages which whispered to him from the trembling +leaves of the Bo-Tree as it hung its branches down to the water's edge. + +"Tell me more, for thy words have drawn the veil closer about the future!" + +His pleading received no response. The priest remained motionless, +passive, indifferent, seemingly plunged in an ecstatic contemplation; and +from that moment his lips were closed, and he passed his once loved pupil +with eyes that seemed fixed far ahead on a world visible only to himself. +Neither in his words or manner had there been any anger or reproach, but a +perfect resignation which walled him off from every human emotion, and +Nehal Singh went his way, conscious that the world lay before him and that +he was free. The great dividing wall had turned to air, and he had passed +through, satisfied but not a little troubled, as a man is who finds that +he has struck at shadows. + +Afterward he told himself that the walls had always been shadows, the +links that bound him always mere ghostly hindrances, part of the vague +dreams that had filled his life and bound his horizon. Now that was all +over. The more perfect reality lay before him and was his. The dim figures +of his childhood's imagination gave place to definite forms. And each bore +the same face, each face the same grave goodness--that of the woman +destined for him by Heaven. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SECOND GENERATION + + +Thus it came to pass that after more than a quarter of a century the gates +of the palace were thrown open, and strange feet crossed the threshold in +apparent peace and friendship. + +A crowd of memories flooded Colonel Carmichael's mind as he followed the +guide along the narrow paths. There was a difference between his last +entry and this--a difference and an analogy whose bizarre completeness +came home to him more vividly with every moment. Then, too, he had been +led, but by a dark figure whose flaming torch had sprung through the +darkness like an unearthly spirit of destruction. Then, too, he had +followed--not, as now, old and saddened--but impetuously, and behind him +had raced no crowd of laughing pleasure-seekers, but men whose bloody +swords were clasped in hands greedy for the long-deferred vengeance. He +remembered clearly what they had felt. For a year they had been held at +bay by a skill and cunning which outmatched their most heroic efforts, and +now, at last, the hour of victory was theirs. He remembered how the thirst +for revenge had died down as they stormed the marble steps. No living +being barred their course. Stillness greeted them as they poured into the +mighty hall, and a chilly awe sank down upon their red-hot rage as they +searched an emptiness which seemed to defy them. It was the Colonel +himself, then only a young captain, who had heard the piteous wailing cry +issuing from a side apartment. He had rushed in, and there a sight greeted +him which engraved itself on his memory for ever. The place was almost in +darkness, save that at the far end two torches had been lit on either side +of what seemed to be a throne--a beautiful golden chair raised from the +floor by ivory steps. Here, too, at first all had seemed death and +silence; then the cry had been repeated, and they saw that a tiny child +lay between the high carved arms and was watching them with great, +beautiful eyes. Around his neck had hung a hastily-written message: + +"This is my son, Nehal Singh, whose life and heritage I intrust to my +conquerors in the name of justice and mercy." + +And he had taken the boy in his arms and borne him thence as tenderly as +if he had been his own. + +Since then twenty-five years had passed. The throne had been given to the +tiny heir under the tutelage of a neighboring prince, and the spirit of +forgotten things brooded over the wreck of the tempest that for over a +year had raged about Marut. But the Colonel remembered as if it had been +but yesterday. Others had forgotten the little child, but, perhaps because +he had no children of his own, the memory of the dark baby eyes had never +been banished from his mind. He caught himself wondering, not without a +touch of emotion, what sort of man had grown out of the minute being he +had rescued; but curiously enough--and typically enough of the +contrariness of human sympathy--from the moment he caught sight of the +tall figure advancing to meet him from the steps of the palace, all +kindly, gentle feelings died out of him, and his old prejudice of race +awoke. Possibly--nay, certainly--the child had had less need of sympathy +than the man, but the Colonel's heart froze toward him, and his formal +response to his host's greeting was icy with the unconquerable +consciousness of the gulf between them. + +Yet, for eyes unblinded by preconceived aversion, Nehal Singh was at that +moment good to look upon. He was simply dressed in white, with no jewels +save for a great diamond in his turban, and this very simplicity threw +into strong relief his unusually well-built figure and the features to +whose almost classical perfection was added a strength, a force of +intellect which classical beauty is too often denied. Quietly and +modestly, conscious of his own worth, ignorant and inexperienced of the +world, he was utterly unaware of the stone barrier that his guests +presented to his own open-hearted welcome. For him the whole of his past +life concentrated itself on this moment when the gates of the Universe +rolled back, and he advanced to meet the representatives of its Greatest +People. He thought, in the simple, natural egoism of a man who has lived a +life cut off from others, that they would understand this and feel with +him. + +What his own feelings were he hardly knew--perhaps among them, though +unrecognized, was the faintest chill of disappointment. He had had no +definite expectations, but his imagination had unconsciously been at work, +and touched with its illuminating fire the sons of the heroes whose deeds +had filled his quiet existence with romance, painting his picture of them +with colors which the reality did not justify. Certainly the little +Colonel had nothing either romantic or heroic in his appearance, and what +was good and kindly in his bronzed face was hidden behind the mask of his +racial pride. + +His first words were delivered in a harsh voice, which betrayed only too +clearly his real feelings, though Nehal Singh recognized nothing but its +disagreeableness. + +"Rajah Sahib, you have honored us with the wish to become acquainted with +the English people dwelling in your State," he began, "and it is therefore +my pleasure and duty to present to you the officers of the regiments--" He +stumbled awkwardly, the strangeness of the situation, the direct and +searching gaze of his host, throwing him completely out of whatever +oratory powers he possessed. It was Nehal Singh himself who saved the +situation. + +"It is my pleasure to receive you," he said, in his slow, painstaking +English, "and I am honored by the readiness with which you have complied +with my desire to meet the Great People to whom my land owes so much. +Though hitherto I have lived apart from them, I am not wholly ignorant of +their greatness. I know, for my fathers and my books have shown me, that +there is no other nation so powerful nor whose sons are so noble. +Therefore I welcome you with all my heart as a brother, and if such +entertainment as I have tried to prepare for your pleasure is not to your +taste, I pray you to forgive me, for therein am I indeed ignorant." + +For a few among the English party his words, spoken slowly and with a +simple sincerity, were not without their charm. Yet, little as he knew it, +he had succeeded in one short speech in touching two dangerous spots in +his relationship to his guests--his ancestry and his equality. But here +again his ignorance veiled from him what was written clearly enough on a +dozen frozen faces. + +"I should be glad to be made personally acquainted with each of your +officers," he went on. "For men who serve under one flag should know each +other well." + +Colonel Carmichael obeyed, thankful for any occupation which saved him the +necessity of replying; and one by one the solemn, unmoved faces came under +Nehal Singh's eager gaze, bowed, and passed on. Each resented in turn the +intense scrutiny of their host, and none guessed its cause. For them it +was the insolent stare of a colored man who had ventured to place himself +on an equality with themselves. They could not have known that he was +seeking familiar features, nor that, as one after another passed on, a +cold chill of disappointment was settling on a heart warm with +preconceived admiration and respect. They could not have known that his +unconscious presumption had hidden a real desire to find among them the +hero to whom his man's worship of courage and greatness could have been +dedicated. He was too young--and especially too young in worldly +wisdom--to realize that the outside man is not of necessity the man +himself. He merely felt, as each wooden face confronted his own, that here +was surely no Great Man, no Hero. Only when it came to the civilians his +eyes rested with some degree of satisfaction on Travers' well-knit figure +and fresh-colored face. For the first time during the whole proceedings +the prince smiled, and in turn received a smile. + +The ladies had by this time arrived, and the presentations continued. +There was no change in Nehal Singh's demeanor when he stood before +Beatrice Cary--no change, at least, visible to the curious eyes that +watched. If there was any hidden meaning in his expression during the +brief instant that they looked at each other, only she herself could have +read it; and this she apparently did not do, for her face retained its +Madonna peace and dignity. + +"I think Rajah Sahib and Miss Cary have already met?" remarked Travers, +who was acting as master of the ceremonies. + +"Yes, we have met," Nehal Singh answered, and passed on. + +If any hesitation showed itself in his manner, it was before Lois +Caruthers. A swift shade of puzzled surprise clouded his features. + +"You have been a long time in India?" he asked, after the first words of +introduction. The question sounded as though he merely sought her +affirmation to something he already knew. + +"Almost all my life, Rajah Sahib," she answered. Possibly it was a natural +shyness which made her voice sound troubled and nervous. She seemed to +heave a sigh of relief when he once more moved on. Yet he had impressed +her agreeably. + +"Is he not handsome?" she said in an undertone to her companion, Stafford. +"I think he is quite the handsomest man I have seen, and he has the +manners of an Englishman. I wonder where he got them from." + +"I don't know," Stafford returned. "These people have a wonderful trick of +picking up things. At any rate he realizes Miss Cary's curious +description--beautiful; though, with Miss Berry, I do not care for the +word as applied to a man. He seems a nice sort of fellow, too, quiet and +unaffected, and that is more to me than his good looks. It's rather a +pity." + +"What is a pity?" she asked, surprised. + +"Oh, well, that he is what he is. Don't look so pained. It's not only my +'narrow-hearted prejudice,' as you call it. It's more than that. I'm sorry +for the man himself. It all confirms my first opinion that it is rather +bad luck." + +"Why?" she demanded obstinately. + +"Don't you understand? If you had seen Webb's face when he talked about +'as a brother a brother,' you would have understood well enough. He has +been made a fool of, and sooner or later he will have his eyes roughly +opened. As I say, it seems bad luck." + +"You mean he would have done better to keep to his old seclusion?" she +said thoughtfully. + +"That's about it." He smiled down at her, and they suddenly forgot the +Rajah in that curious happiness of two beings who need no words to tell +them that each is understood by the other, and that a secret current of +thought and feeling flows beneath every word and touch. "Come," he went +on. "It seems that we are to have the run of the place. Shall we explore?" + +She nodded a quick agreement, and they started off, thus following the +example of others of the party who had already made use of the Rajah's +suggestion that they should visit the chief and most interesting portions +of the palace. Nehal Singh himself stood alone, and thankful for his +loneliness. For the last ten minutes Colonel Carmichael and he had stood +side by side, and found no word to say to each other. The past, which +might have been a link, proved itself a barrier which neither could scale, +and presently, on some excuse, the Colonel had hurried off to join his +wife. As though guided by a sure instinct, Nehal Singh turned in the +direction where Beatrice was standing with her mother and Travers. Without +hesitation he went up to her. + +"I have waited to be your guide," he said. His words sounded amusingly +decided and matter-of-course, and a smile of not very sympathetic meaning +passed over the faces of those within earshot. + +"You can be sure she went a lot further than she cared to say," Mrs. Berry +whispered to her daughter. "You can see how everything was made up +beforehand. I wonder what she expects to get out of him?" + +Though the remark did not reach her, Beatrice's instinct and bitter +experience supplied her with a sure key to the look that was exchanged +between the two women. She smiled gaily. + +"I shall be only too pleased," she said. "What I have seen has made me +thirst for more." + +"Indeed, Your Highness," Mrs. Cary broke in eagerly. "I must not forget to +thank you for the really very kind assistance you lent my reckless +daughter the other day. I do not know what would have happened to her if +it had not been for you!" + +Nehal Singh looked at her with a grave wonder. + +"You are her mother--?" he said, and then stopped short. The wonder was +reflected so clearly in his tone that an angry flush mounted to Mrs. +Cary's fat cheeks. + +"I have that honor, Your Highness," she said acidly. + +"Mrs. Cary!" Travers called from the flower-bed over which he was leaning. +"If the Rajah Sahib can spare you, do come and look at these flowers. They +are extraordinary." + +With her head in the air, her plumes waving, a picture of ruffled dignity, +Mrs. Cary swayed her way in the direction indicated, and Nehal Singh and +Beatrice found themselves alone. + +"Will you come with me now?" he asked. "I have still so much to show you." + +She saw the look of self-satisfied "I-told-you-so" horror written on the +faces of Mrs. Berry and her friends, who stood a little farther off +whispering and nodding, and if she had felt the slightest hesitation, she +hesitated no longer. + +"Lead the way, Rajah Sahib," she said coolly. "I follow." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE IDEAL + + +On either side of them tall palm-trees raised their splendid heads high +above the shrubs and sweet-smelling plants that clustered like a +protecting wall about their feet, and as Beatrice and her companion passed +a sharp bend it seemed as though they had been suddenly cut off from the +chattering crowd behind them and had entered into a wonderful, silent +world in which they were alone. + +Was it the beauty of her surroundings, or was it the man beside her, which +sent the curious, almost painful emotion through her angry heart? For she +was angry--angry with her mother, with herself and him--chiefly with him. +He had been too sure. And yet she was flattered. Also, it was a pleasure +for the first time to be with some one with whom she could drop her +weapons and have no fear. She looked up at him, and found that he was +watching her. + +"It was not good-by for ever," he said. "We have met again." + +Her anger suddenly subsided. His slow English, with its foreign accent, +his dark features and native dress reminded her vividly that he was of +another (implied, inferior) race, and therefore not to be judged by +ordinary standards. She gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment. + +"You have overthrown destiny," she said, smiling. "You have made the +impossible possible. How was I to know all that when I prophesied we +should not meet again?" + +"I have not overthrown destiny," he answered. "I have fulfilled it." + +"Are you sure of that?" + +"Quite sure." + +She looked away from him up to the golden dome of the temple which rose +before them against the unclouded sky. Because she had thrown down her +weapons, and in the irresponsible pleasure of the moment become herself, +she acquired a power of penetration and understanding which is denied to +those who with their own hearts closed seek to know the hearts of others. + +"Do you know," she said suddenly, "when Colonel Carmichael presented +himself to you, and all the others, I watched you, and I rather fancy I +read something on your face which you didn't want to show. I wonder if I +am right." + +"It is possible," he answered gravely. "In this last hour I have already +begun to regret that I have never studied to control my emotions. I show +when I am surprised, disappointed, or--startled. Hitherto, there has been +no reason why I should not do so. But now that I am among my equals, it is +different." + +She bit her lip, not in anger but in an almost pained surprise at this +man's ignorance of the world into which he was entering. He was not +presuming to place himself on the level with the Englishman; it seemed as +if he were inoffensively lifting the Englishman up to himself. She was +sorry for him as one is sorry for all kindly fools. + +"Tell me what you read!" he begged, after a moment. "Perhaps you will know +better than I myself. I am almost sure you will." + +"I read disappointment," she answered. "Was that so?" + +His brows contracted slightly. + +"I _was_ disappointed," he admitted, "but that was my own fault. I had +never met English people--only heard of them. What I had heard made me +imagine things which it seems have no reality." + +"Did you expect demigods?" she asked. + +"I do not know what I expected--but it was something different. You know +the men I have met to-day. Are they all great-hearted and brave?" + +She did not laugh at the question, though there was cause enough to have +excused it. + +"I can not tell you," she answered. "Only circumstances can bring such +virtues to light, and hitherto the circumstances have been lacking. All +men do not wear their heart on their sleeve," she answered, not without +malice. + +He nodded. + +"I am glad to hear you say that, for no doubt you are right. I am very +ignorant, I fear, and was foolish enough to expect heroes to have the face +and figure of heroes. It grieved me for a moment to find that I was the +tallest and best-looking among them. Now that you have explained, I see +that the greatness lies beneath." + +This time she laughed, and laughed so heartily that he joined in with her, +though he did not know what had caused her amusement. He took pleasure in +watching her when she laughed. Her statuesque beauty yielded then to a +warm, pulsating life, which transformed her and made her seem to him more +human, more attainable. For he had never shaken off the belief that she +and a divine agency were closely linked together. + +"You must not compare yourself with Englishmen," she said, when she had +recovered, "neither in face, nor stature, nor ideals. You must always +remember that we are of another race." + +"And yet you fulfilled my highest ideal." + +"Perhaps I am the exception," she retorted, dangerously near another +outburst. "Did all the women this afternoon fulfil your ideal?" + +"No!" very decidedly. + +"There! You see, then, that I am the exception. Besides, I am not a man. +Men require to be differently judged, and we have perhaps other ideals." + +"That also is possible," he assented, "and I know that, because the +English are such a great people, their ideals must be very high, perhaps +higher than mine. Since I am now to go among them, I wish to know what +they consider necessary in the character of a great man.". + +"That is too hard a question," she said hurriedly. "I can not describe the +national ideal to you, because I am too ignorant and have never thought +about it. You must ask some one else." + +They had come to the end of the path and stood before a square opening, on +the other side of which the two massive gopuras of the temple rose in +their monumental splendor two hundred feet above them. They were still +alone. None of the sightseers seemed to have found the sacred spot, and +for a moment she stood still, awed in spite of herself. + +"I should be quite content with _your_ ideal," he said gently, breaking in +upon her admiration. "I feel that it will be the highest." + +"You ask of me more than I can answer." + +"I beg of you!" he pleaded earnestly. "I have my reasons." + +Again she bit her lip. It was too absurd, too ridiculous! That she, of all +people, who had seen into the darkest, most sordid depths of the human +character, and long since learned to look upon goodness and virtue as +exploded myths, should be set to work to draw up an ideal which she did +not and could not believe in, seemed a mockery too pitiful for laughter. +Yet something--perhaps it was a form of national pride--stung her to the +task, moreover stung her to do her best and place beyond the reach of +these dark hands a high and splendid figure of English ideals. + +To help herself, she sought through the lumber-rooms of her memory, and +drew thence a hundred ideas, thoughts and conceptions which had belonged +to a short--terribly short--childhood. Like a middle-aged woman who comes +suddenly upon a hoard of long since forgotten toys, and feels an emotion +half pitying, half regretful, so Beatrice Cary displayed to her companion +things that for years had lain forsaken and neglected in the background of +her mind. The dust lay thick upon them--and yet they were well enough. +They would have been beautiful, had she believed in them, but, like the +toys, they had lost the glamour and illusionary light in which her youth +and imagination had bathed them. + +"Our highest ideal of a man we call a gentleman," she said slowly. "It is +a much-abused term, but it can mean a very great deal. What his appearance +is does not so much matter--indeed, when one looks into it, it does not +matter at all, save that you will find that the ugliest face can often +give you an index to a lovely character. The chief thing that we require +of him is that he should be above all meanness and pettiness. He must be +great-thinking and great-feeling for himself and others, especially for +others. You will find that a good man is always thinking or working for +those others whose names he may not even know. Whatever power or talent he +has--however little it may be--he concentrates on some object which may +help them. It is the same with his virtues. He cultivates them because he +knows that there is not a high thought, or generous impulse, or noble deed +which does not help to lift the standard of the whole world." + +"Of what virtues are you speaking?" Nehal Singh interposed. + +"Oh, the usual things," she returned, with a note of cynicism breaking +through her sham enthusiasm. "Honesty, purity, generosity, +loyalty--especially loyalty. I do not think a man who is true to himself, +to his word, to his friend, and to his country can ever fall far below the +ideal." She took a deep breath. "It is a very poor description that I have +given you. I hope you have understood?" + +"Yes, I have understood," he answered. "And this man--this gentleman--can +be of all nations?" + +So deeply ingrained is national prejudice, even in those who profess to +regard the whole world with an equally contemptuous eye, that for an +instant she hesitated. + +"Of course," she said then. "Nationality makes no difference." + +They crossed over the broad square, through the gopura, into the inner +temple. Nehal Singh, who had sunk into a deep meditation, roused himself +and called to her notice many curious and beautiful things which she would +otherwise have passed by without interest. Whether it was his loving +description, or whether it was because she was calmer, she could not say, +but the place impressed her with its stately magnificence as it had not +done before. + +"The ages seem to hang like ghosts in the atmosphere," she told her +companion, in a hushed undertone. + +He assented, and the dreamer's look which had haunted his eyes for +twenty-five years crept back into its place. + +"Who knows what unseen world surrounds us?" he said quietly. + +They had already left the first court behind them and passed the Sacred +Pool, a placid, untroubled mirror for the overhanging trees and towering +minarets. There they had paused a moment, watching their own reflections +which the warm evening sunshine cast on to the smooth surface. Then they +had moved on, and now stood before the entrance of the Holy of Holies. +Beatrice drew back with a gesture of alarm. A tall, white-clad figure had +suddenly stepped out of the shadowy portal and stood erect and +threatening, one hand raised as though to forbid their entrance. Long +afterward, Beatrice remembered the withered face, and always with a +shudder of unreasonable terror. + +"Do not be afraid," Nehal Singh said. "He defends the entrance against +strangers. He will let you pass." + +He went up to the old priest and spoke a few words in Hindustani, which +Beatrice did not understand. Immediately the Brahman stood aside, and +though his stern, piercing gaze never left her face, she felt that by some +means or other his animosity had been disarmed. + +"What did you say to him?" she asked. + +Nehal Singh shook his head. + +"One day I will tell you," he answered; and some instinct made her +hesitate to press the question further. + +Thus they stood once more before the great golden statue, this time side +by side. The sanctuary was built in the shape of a half-circle, the high, +vaulted roof supported by slender pillars of carved black marble. There +was no other attempt at ornamentation. The three-headed figure of the god +reigned in the center from a massive altar in solitary splendor, and from +a small opening overhead a frail ray of evening light mingled its pale +yellow with the brilliant crimson flame of the Sacred Lamp which burnt +before the idol, casting an almost unearthly reflection about the +passionless chiseled features. In spite of herself, Beatrice felt that the +place was charmed, and that the charm was drawing into its ban her very +thoughts and emotions. She felt subdued, quieted. It was as she had +said--the ages seemed to hover like ghosts about them, and her hard, +worldly skepticism could make no stand against the hush and mystery of the +past. Here generation after generation, amidst danger, battle and death, +men had bowed down and poured out their hottest, most fervent prayers, and +their sincerity and faith had sanctified the ground for Christian, Brahman +and skeptic alike. + +Beatrice looked at the man beside her. She had the feeling that, while she +had stood and wondered, he had been praying; and possibly she was right, +though he returned her glance immediately. + +"This is a holy place," he said. "It is holiest of all for me. Here I have +spent my most solemn happy hours; here God spoke direct to me and answered +me." + +It seemed quite natural that he should speak thus so openly and directly +to her of his nearest concerns. The barrier which separated them perhaps, +after all, made the intercourse between them easier and less constrained +than it would otherwise have been. They had no responsibility toward each +other. They lived in different worlds, and if for a moment they exchanged +messages, it was only for a moment. When it was over, the dividing sea +would once more roll between them, leaving no trace of their brief +intercourse. + +Remembering all this, she threw off the momentary sense of trouble. + +"Tell me how and when that was," she said. + +"I can not tell you--not now. One day I will. One day I shall have a great +deal to tell you, and you will have a great deal to tell me. You will tell +me of your faith. I know nothing of your God. All that has been kept +secret from me." + +"How do you know I have a God?" she demanded sharply. + +They had passed out of the sanctuary and were walking back toward the +entrance. He half stopped and looked at her in grave surprise. + +"How do I know? How, rather, is it possible that it should be otherwise? +You are too good and beautiful not to have learnt at the feet of a great +teacher." + +His naivete and confidence set her once more in a state between indulgent +amusement and anger. Another man she would have laughed at straight in the +face, but this simple belief in her goodness threw her out of her usual +stride, and in the end she left him without answer, save that which he +chose to interpret from her silence. + +As they reached the great doorway through the gopura, a tall figure +advanced to meet them which Beatrice at once recognized in spite of the +gathering twilight. She had been expecting this new-comer for some time, +yet his appearance disturbed her as something undesirable. + +"There is a man I like," Nehal Singh remarked, with a sudden pleasure. "Is +not Travers his name? He disappointed me least of all." + +"You have an excellent judgment," Beatrice returned. + +If there was an undercurrent of sarcasm in her approval, Nehal Singh did +not notice it. He advanced quickly to meet Travers. + +"I am glad you have found your way here," he said. "It is the most +beautiful part of all, and perhaps I should have acted as guide to my +other guests. But my first duty was here." He turned to Beatrice with a +grave inclination. + +Travers laughed. + +"You need be in no alarm, Rajah Sahib," he said. "We have been enjoying +ourselves immensely, and no wonder, considering all the glories that have +been laid open to us. I have seen much wealth and splendor in India, but +not as here. I feel overwhelmed." + +"There is still much for you to see," Nehal Singh answered with a proud +pleasure. + +Other members of the party had by this time joined them, and Beatrice +dropped back to her mother's side. The whole thing had been, as Mrs. Berry +said, arranged, but not in the way the good lady supposed, and Beatrice's +task was at an end. + +Travers hastened his step imperceptibly, so that the distance between him +and the rest was increased beyond hearing distance. + +"Of course," he began, with a frank confidence which fell pleasingly on +his companion's ears, "I am a business man, and a great deal of my +admiration is from a business standpoint. You will perhaps hardly +understand me when I say that my flesh simply creeps when I think of all +the wealth that lies here inactive. Wealth is power, Rajah Sahib, and in +your hand there lies a power for good or evil which dazzles the senses of +a less fortunate man." + +Nehal Singh lifted his face thoughtfully toward the evening sky. + +"Power for good or evil!" he echoed. "It may be that you are right. But +power is a great clumsy giant, who can accomplish nothing without the +experienced guiding brain." + +"I imagine you have both, Rajah Sahib." + +"Not the experience. I have led a life apart. I feel myself helpless +before the very thought of any effort in the world. Yet I should be glad +to accomplish something--to help even a little in the general progress." + +"You will learn easily enough," Travers broke in, with enthusiasm. "It is +only necessary to go outside your gates to find a hundred outlets for +energy and purpose. If you traveled two days among your people, you would +come back knowing very well what awaited your power to accomplish." + +"I am glad to hear you say so," Nehal returned, smiling, "for I am +ambitious." + +"Ambition and power!" exclaimed Travers. "You are indeed to be envied, +Rajah Sahib!" + +"What would you do in my place?" Nehal asked, after a moment, in a lighter +tone, which concealed a real and eager curiosity. + +Travers shook his head. + +"The greater the power the greater the responsibility," he answered. "I +couldn't say on the spur of the moment. If I were given time, no doubt I +should be able to tell you." + +"I give you till our next meeting, then," Nehal said gravely. + +"Our next meeting? I trust, then, Rajah Sahib that you will condescend to +be the guest of the English Station?" + +Nehal turned his head to hide the flash of boyish satisfaction which shone +out of his eyes. It was that he wanted--to go among this people, from +their own hearth to judge them, and to probe down into the source of their +greatness. + +"It would give me much pleasure," he answered quietly. + +It was Travers' turn to hide the triumph which the willing acceptance +aroused. Nevertheless, his next words were whimsically regretful. + +"Unfortunately, we have no place in which to offer you a fitting welcome, +Rajah Sahib," he said. "For a long time it has been the ambition of the +Station to build some place wherein all such festivities could be properly +celebrated. But alas!"--he shrugged his shoulders--"it is the fate of the +Anglo-Indian to work for the richness and greatness of his country and +himself remain miserably poor." + +"How much money would be required?" Nehal Singh asked. + +"You will no doubt be amused at the smallness of the sum--a mere four +thousand rupees--but it is just so much we have not got." + +Nehal Singh smiled. + +"Let me at once begin to make use of my power," he said graciously. "It +would be a pleasure to me to mark my first meeting with you by the gift of +the building you require. I place the matter in your hands, Sahib Travers. +For the time being, until I have gained my own experience, yours must be +the guiding brain." + +The good-looking Englishman appeared to be considerably taken aback +--almost distressed. + +"You are too generous, Rajah Sahib!" he protested. To himself he commented +on the rapidity with which this fellow had picked up the lingo of polite +society. + +All further conversation was cut short by a cry of admiration from the +crowd behind them. They had reached the chief entrance to the palace, and +suddenly, as though at a given signal, every outline of the building +became marked out by countless points of light which sparkled starlike +against the darkening sky. At the same instant, the temple to their left +took form in a hundred colors, and a burst of weird music broke on the +ears of the wondering spectators. It was a strange and beautiful scene, +such as few of them had ever seen. Fairy palaces of fire seemed to hover +miraculously in the evening air, and over everything hung the curious, +indefinable charm of the mysterious East. + +Nehal Singh turned and found Lois Caruthers standing with Stafford a +little behind him. Both their names were forgotten, but the dark eager +face of the girl attracted him and at the same time puzzled him as +something which struck a hitherto unsuspected chord in his innermost self. + +"You find it well?" he asked her. + +"It is most beautiful," she answered. "It is good of you, Rajah Sahib, to +give us so much pleasure." + +That was all she said, but among all his memories of that evening she +remained prominent, because she had spoken sincerely, warmly, +enthusiastically. Others thanked him--the Colonel's little speech at the +end was a piece of studied rhetoric, but it left him cold where her thanks +had left him warm, almost gratefully so. + +On the whole, the first meeting between the English residents of Marut and +the young native prince was classified as a success. As they drove through +the darkness, the returning guests called terse criticisms to one another +which tended to the conclusion that the whole thing had not been at all +bad, and that for the circumstances the Rajah was a remarkably +well-mannered individual. + +Beatrice Cary took no part in the light-hearted exchange. Her mother had +gone off with Mrs. Carmichael in her carriage, and Travers having offered +to drive her home, she had accepted, and now sat by his side, thoughtful, +almost depressed, though she did not own it, even to herself. + +Try as she would she could not throw off the constantly recurring memory +of her parting with Nehal Singh. She made fun of it and of herself, and +yet she could not laugh over it--her power of irresponsible enjoyment had +been taken suddenly from her. + +"You will not now say that we shall never meet again," he had said, +pressing something into her hand. "Now you will never forget," he had +added. "It is a talisman of remembrance." + +What he had given her she did not know. It lay tightly clutched in the +palm of her hand--something hard and cold which she dared not look at. + +She had not even been able to remonstrate or thank him. She had been +spellbound, hypnotized. + +"It really has been splendid!" she heard Travers say in her ear. "Things +went just like clockwork. Five minutes' conversation got the whole +clubhouse out of him, and what you managed in your quarter of an hour, +goodness knows. You are a clever woman and no mistake!" + +"Please--don't!" she burst out irritably. + +"Hullo! What's the matter? What are you so cross about?" + +"I'm not cross--only tired, tired, tired and sick of it all. Do drive on!" + +Far behind them a solitary figure stood on the broad steps of the palace, +amidst the dying splendors of the evening and gazed in the direction which +the merry procession had taken. A long time it had stood there, +motionless, passive, the fine husk of the soul which had wandered out into +a new world of hope and possibilities following the woman whose hand had +flung the gates wide for him to enter in. + +Another figure crept out of the shadows and drew near. Twisted and bent, +it stood beside the bold, upright form and lifted its face, hate-filled, +to the pale light of the stars. + +"Nehal Singh, Nehal Singh--oh, my son!" + +The prince turned coldly. + +"Is it thou? Hast thou a dagger in thy hand?" + +"I have no dagger--would to God I had! Nehal Singh, I have seen mine +enemy's face." + +"How meanest thou? Thy enemy is dead." + +"Nevertheless, his face is among the living. As a servant, I crept among +the strangers, and saw him straight in the eyes. He has grown younger, but +it is he. It is the body of the son, but the soul of his father in his +eyes--and, father or son, their blood is poison to me." + +Nehal Singh knit his brows. + +"Knowest thou his name?" + +"Ay, now I know his name. It came back to me when I saw his face. Stafford +he was called--Stafford!" He crept closer, his thin hand fell like a vise +on Nehal's arm. "Kill him!" he whispered. "Kill him--the son of thy +father's betrayer!" + +Nehal Singh shook himself free. + +"I can not," he answered proudly, and a warm thrill of enthusiasm rang in +his voice. "I can not. They are all my brothers. I can not take my +brother's blood." + +With a moan of anger the twisted figure crept back into the shadow, and +once more Nehal Singh stood alone. + +Unconsciously he had accepted and proclaimed Beatrice Cary's ideal as his +own. The hour of bloodshed was gone, mercy and justice called him in its +stead. And in that acceptance of a new era his gaze pierced through the +obscurity into a light beyond. The jungle which had bound his life was +gone; all hindrances, all gulfs of hatred and revenge, were overthrown and +bridged. The world of the Great People stood open to him, and to them he +held out the casteless hand of love and fellowship. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +CHECKED + + +Lois and Stafford had arrived at that stage of friendship when +conversation becomes unnecessary. They walked side by side through the +Colonel's carefully tended garden and were scarcely conscious that +they had dropped into a thoughtful silence. Yet, as though in +obedience to some unspoken agreement, their footsteps found their way +to the ruined bungalow and there paused. + +As a look can be more powerfully descriptive than a word, so these +shot-riddled walls had their own eloquence. Each shot-hole, each +jagged splinter and torn hinge had its own history and added its +pathetic detail to the whole picture of that disastrous night when the +vengeance of Behar Singh had burst like a hurricane over the +defenseless land. + +After a moment's hesitation Stafford stepped forward and, pushing +aside the heavy festoons of creeper which barred the doorway, passed +through into the gloomy interior. + +"I should like to see the place from the inside," he explained to +Lois, who, with an uncontrollable shudder, had followed him. "One can +imagine better then how it all happened." + +"I think of it all--often," she answered in a hushed voice, "and every +time I seem to see things differently. My poor mother!" + +"You never knew her?" he asked. + +"No, I was too young--scarcely more than a year old. Yet her loss +seems to have overshadowed my whole life." + +"Was she like you?" + +"Yes, I believe so. She was dark--not so dark as I am--but she was +stately and beautiful. So she has always been described to me, and so +I always seem to see her." + +Stafford turned and looked about him. + +"It must be almost as it was then," he said wonderingly, pointing to +the rusty truckle-bed in the corner. "And there is the broken +over-turned chair! It might have been yesterday." + +She nodded. + +"So my guardian found it," she said. "It had been my father's bungalow +and he never allowed it to be touched. When I came of age I gave it to +him. It seemed to belong to him, somehow. They say that it nearly +broke his heart when he found that he had come too late to save my +father. My father was his dearest, almost his only friend." + +"Were they killed at once?" Stafford asked with hesitating curiosity. +"I have never known the rights of the case. It has always been a +painful subject for me--with you I don't mind." + +It was the faintest allusion to a bond between them which both +silently recognized, and Lois turned away to hide the signal of +happiness which had risen to her cheeks. + +"No one knows," she answered. "The bodies were never found. It was +part of Behar Singh's cruelty to hide the real fate of his victims. +For a long time people used to hope and hope that in some dungeon or +prison they would find their friends, but they never did. One can only +pray that the end was a mercifully quick one." + +"And Behar Singh died in the jungle?" + +"So the natives said. No one really knows," she replied. + +"I wish he hadn't," Stafford said, his good-natured face darkening. +"It seems unfair that he should have caused our people to suffer so +much and we have never had the chance to pay back. Whatever made the +Government give his son the power, goodness only knows." + +"The present Rajah was a baby then," she said in a tone of gentle +remonstrance. "It would have been hard to have punished him for the +sins of his father." + +Nothing appeals to a man more than a woman's undiplomatic tenderness +for the whole world. Stafford looked down at Lois with a smile. + +"You dear, good-hearted little girl!" he said. "And yet, blood is +blood, you know. Somehow, one can't get over it. In spite of his good +looks, it always seems to me as though I could see his father's +treachery in Nehal Singh's eyes. It made me sick to think that I was +enjoying his hospitality--it makes me feel worse that we have to +accept the club-house at his hands. Travers behaved pretty badly, +according to my ideas." + +"It was mostly Miss Cary's doing," Lois objected. She liked Travers, +and was inclined to take up the cudgels on his behalf. + +Stafford's eyes twinkled. On his side he had the rooted and not +unfounded masculine notion that all women are jealous of one another. + +"Miss Cary is young and inexperienced and probably did not realize +what she was doing," he retorted. "From what she told me, she takes +the whole matter as a big joke, and now that the fat is in the fire +it's no use enlightening her." + +Lois made no immediate answer, though she may have had her doubts on +the subject of Beatrice Cary's inexperience. + +"The poor Rajah!" she said, after a pause, as Stafford walked +curiously about the room. "I could not help being sorry for him. He +seemed so eager and enthusiastic and anxious to please us, and we were +so cold and ungrateful. Tell me, does it really make so much +difference?" + +He came back to her side. Something in her voice had touched him and +stirred to life a warmth of feeling which was more than that of +friendship. + +"What makes so much difference?" he asked, smiling down at her small +troubled face. "What are you worrying yourself about now?" + +"Oh, it has always troubled me," she answered with the impetuosity +which characterized her. "I have often worried about it. I mean," she +added, as he laughed at her incoherence, "all that race distinction. +Does it really mean so much? Will it never be bridged over?" + +"Never," he said. "It can't be. It is a justified distinction and to +my mind those who ignore it are to be despised." + +He had answered her question with only a part seriousness, his whole +interest concentrated on the charm of her personality. But for once +her gravity resisted the suppressed merriment in his eyes. + +"Are the natives, then, so contemptible?" she asked. + +"Not exactly contemptible, but inferior. They have not our culture, +and whatsoever they borrow from us is only skin-deep. Beneath the +varnish they are their elemental selves--lazy, cruel, treacherous and +unscrupulous. No, no. Each race must keep to itself. Our strength in +India depends on our exclusiveness--upon keeping ourselves apart and +above as superior beings. So long as they recognize we _are_ superior, +so long will they obey us." + +"It is superiority, then, which prevents every one except professors +from taking any interest in the natives?" + +"Possibly," he returned, not quite so much at his ease. "One feels a +natural repugnance, you know." + +"You would never have anything to do with them?" + +"Not if I could help it." + +She sighed and turned away as though his gaze troubled her. + +"I don't know why--it makes me sad to hear you talk like that," she +said. "It seems so terribly hard." + +"It _is_ hard," he affirmed, following her out of the curious, heavy +atmosphere into the evening sunshine. "There are a great many things +in life which, as far as we know, are inevitable, so that there is no +use in worrying or thinking about them." Her more serious mood had +conquered his good spirits, and for a moment he stood at her side +looking at the disused bungalow with eyes as thoughtful as her own. +"Isn't it strange?" he went on. "Our parents came together from +different ends of the earth, doomed to die in the same spot and in the +same hour, and we children, far away in England, knowing nothing of +each other, have drifted back to the fatal place to find each other +there and to--" + +"Yes," she said as he hesitated, "it is strange. I could almost think +that this bungalow had some mysterious influence over our lives." + +He smiled in half confirmation of her fancy. + +"It may be. But come! We have had enough gloom for one evening. Let me +gather some flowers for you before we go back." + +She assented, and they followed the winding paths, stopping here and +there to cut down some of the most tempting of Mrs. Carmichael's +tenderly loved blossoms and always turning aside when they came in +sight of the Colonel's verandah. No word of tenderness had ever passed +between them, and yet they were happy to be together. It was as though +a bond united them which had grown up, silent and unseen, from the +first hour they had met, and in a quiet, peaceful way they knew that +it existed and that they loved each other. + +From the verandah where she was sewing by the fading light Mrs. +Carmichael could watch their appearing and disappearing figures amidst +the trees with the satisfaction of a confirmed match-maker. She, too, +knew of this bond, and though she was a trifle impatient with the +slowness of the development, she was content to bide her time. + +"I don't usually pay any attention to Station gossip," she said to her +husband, who was trying to read the newly arrived English paper, "but +for once in a way I believe there is something in it. According to my +experience, they should be engaged in less than a fortnight." + +Colonel Carmichael started. + +"Who? Lois and Stafford?" + +"Yes, of course. Who else? Everybody looks upon it as practically +settled. Why do you look like that? You ought to be pleased. You said +yourself that you were very fond of Stafford--" + +Carmichael made a quick gesture as though to stop the threatening +torrent of expostulation. He had turned crimson and his whole manner +was marked by an unusual uneasiness. + +"Of course, I am fond of Stafford," he began. "I only meant--" + +He was saved the trouble of explaining what he did mean by a sudden +exclamation from his wife, who had let her work fall to the ground +with a start of alarm. + +"Good gracious, Mr. Travers!" she cried in her sharp way. "What a +fright you gave me! I thought you were a horrible thug or something +come to murder us all. There, how do you do!" She gave him her hand. +"Will you have a cup of tea? We have just had ours, but if you would, +I am quite ready to keep you company. Tea, as you know, is a weakness +of mine. That is why my nerves are so bad." + +Travers bowed, smiling. He was rather paler than usual and the hand +which held a large bouquet of freshly cut flowers trembled as though +the shock his sudden appearance had caused Mrs. Carmichael had +recoiled on himself. + +"Thank you--no," he said. "As a matter of fact, I came to bring these +for Miss Caruthers, but as she is not here I should be very grateful +if I might have a few words with you alone. I have something of +importance, which it would be perhaps better to tell you first." + +"Certainly," the Colonel said, clearing his throat and settling +himself farther back in his chair. "There is no time like the +present." + +Travers looked at him in troubled surprise. The elder man's tone and +attitude were those of some one confronted with a not unexpected but +unpleasant crisis. + +"It concerns your ward, Colonel Carmichael," Travers said, taking the +chair offered him. "I think you must have known long ago that I cared +very dearly for her. I have come now to ask her to be my wife." + +He spoke quickly and abruptly, as though to hide a powerful emotion, +and there was an instant's uncomfortable silence. Mrs. Carmichael's +head was bent over her work. She did not dislike Travers, but this +unexpected proposal upset all her plans and though it flattered her +pride in Lois, she felt disturbed and thrown out of her course. + +"I think you have made a mistake, Mr. Travers," she said at last, as +her husband remained obstinately silent. "I have every reason to +believe that Lois' heart is given elsewhere. However, we have no right +to interfere--Lois must decide for herself. She is her own mistress. +What do you say, George, dear?" + +The Colonel shifted his position. Evidently he was at a loss to +express himself, and his brow remained clouded. + +"If it is Lois' wish, I shall put no obstacle in the way of her +happiness," he said slowly. + +"Have you any personal objection, Colonel?" + +"I? O, dear, no!" was the hurried answer. + +There was a second silence, in which Mrs. Carmichael and Travers +exchanged baffled glances. The Colonel seemed in some unaccountable +way to have lost his nerve and, as though he felt and feared the +questioning gaze of his wife, he leaned forward so that his face was +hidden. + +"Personally I have no objection at all," he repeated, as if seeking to +gain time. "Like my wife, I had other ideas on the subject, but that +has nothing to do with it. At the same time, I feel it--eh--my duty +to--eh--tell you before you go further--for your sake, and--eh--every +one's sake--certain details concerning Lois which I have not thought +necessary to give to the world in general. You understand--I consider +it my duty--only fair to yourself and Lois." + +"I quite understand," Travers said. He seemed in no way surprised, and +his expression was that of a man waiting for the explanation to a +problem which had long puzzled him. + +"Really, George!" expostulated Mrs. Carmichael, not without +indignation, "one would think you were about to disinter the most +horrible family skeleton. You are not to be alarmed, Mr. Travers. It +is all a little mysterious, perhaps, but nothing to make _such_ a fuss +about." + +The Colonel looked up under the sting of her reproach and tried to +smile. + +"I dare say my wife is right," he said. "I am rather foolish about the +matter--possibly because it is all linked together with a very painful +period of my life. Mr. Travers, my dearest friend, Steven Caruthers, +had _no_ children. The baby girl whom by his will he intrusted to my +care was not his child, nor have I ever been able to discover whose +child she really was. His will spoke of her as his adopted daughter, +who was to bear his name and in fault of any other heir to inherit +both his own and his wife's large fortune. More I can not tell you, +for I myself do not know more." + +He laid an almost timid emphasis on the word "know," as though +somewhere at the back of his mind there lurked a suspicion which he +dared neither deny nor express openly, and, in spite of his attempt at +cheerfulness, his features were still disturbed and gloomy. + +"You know one thing more, which you haven't mentioned," Mrs. +Carmichael said, "and that is that Lois is of good family on both +sides. Steven Caruthers told you so." + +"Yes, that's true--I forgot," the Colonel assented. "He assured me +that on both sides she was of good, even high birth, and that he had +adopted her partly because he had no children of his own and partly +because of a debt of gratitude which he owed her father. It does not +seem to me that it makes much difference." + +"It makes all the difference in the world, George," retorted Mrs. +Carmichael, who for some reason or another was considerably put out. +"You don't want Mr. Travers to think that Lois was picked up in the +street, do you?" + +"Of course not," her husband agreed, "but then--" He broke off, and +all three relapsed into an awkward silence. Travers was the first to +speak. He had been looking out over the garden and had seen Lois' +white dress flash through the bushes. + +"For my part," he began quietly, "I can not see that what you have +told me can have an influence on the matter. I love Lois. That is the +chief thing--or rather the chief thing is whether or not she can learn +to love me. Whether she is the child of a sweep or a prince, it makes +no difference to my feelings toward her." + +Mrs. Carmichael held out her hand. + +"Well, whatever happens, you are a man before you are a prig," she +said, "and that is something to be thankful for in these degenerate +days. Why, there is the child herself! Come here, my dear." + +Lois came running up the verandah steps with Stafford close behind +her. Her eyes were full of laughter and sunshine, and in her hand she +held a mass of roses which Stafford had gathered during their ramble. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Travers," she exclaimed with pleased surprise, as +he rose to greet her. "I did not expect to find you here. How grave +you all look! And what lovely flowers!" + +Travers considered his bouquet with a rueful smile. + +"I brought them from my garden, Miss Caruthers," he said. "They +were meant for to-night's festivity. But it seems they have come +too late--you are already well supplied." + +"Flowers never come too late and one can never have too many of them!" +Lois answered gratefully. "Please bring them in here and I will put +them in water." + +She led the way into the drawing-room and he followed her eagerly. +Whether it was the sight of her charm and youth, or the warm greeting +which he had read in her eyes, or the satisfied calm on Stafford's +face, Travers himself could not have told, but in that moment he lost +his usual self-possession. He was white and shaken like a man who sees +himself thrust suddenly to the brink of a chasm and knows that he must +cross or fall. + +"Miss Caruthers!" he said. + +She turned quickly from the flowers which she was arranging in a bowl. +The smile of pleasure which still lingered about her lips died away as +she saw his face. + +"Miss Caruthers," he repeated earnestly, "it is perhaps neither wise +nor right of me to speak now, but there are moments when anything--even +the worst--is better than uncertainty, when a man can bear no more. +Forgive me--I am not eloquent and what I have to tell can be +encompassed in one word. I love you, Lois. I think you must know it, +though you can not know how great my love is. Is there any hope for +me?" + +She drew her hand gently but firmly from his half-unconscious clasp. + +"I am sorry--no," she said. + +"Lois--I can't give up hope. Is there some one else?" + +She lifted her troubled eyes to his face. He saw in their depths a +curious doubt and uncertainty. + +"I do not know," she said almost to herself. "I only know that you are +not the man." + +The blow had calmed him. Like a good general who has suffered a +temporary check, he gathered his forces together and prepared an +orderly retreat. + +"I will not trouble you," he said gently. "I feel now that I did wrong +to disturb your peace--God knows I would never willingly cause you an +instant's sorrow--but a man who loves as I do must feed himself with +hope, however wild and unreasonable. Now I know, and whatever +happens--I hope you will be happy--I pray you will be happy. Yes, +though I am not given to uttering prayers, I pray, so dear to me is +the future which lies before you." + +"I am very grateful," she said with bowed head. Something in his +broken, disjointed sentences brought the tears to her eyes and made +her voice unsteady. She knew he was suffering--she knew why, and her +heart went out to him in friendship and womanly pity. + +"You need not be grateful," he answered. "It is I who have to be +grateful. In spite of it all, you do not know what good you have +brought into my life nor how you have unconsciously helped me. I shall +never be able to help you as you have helped me--and yet--will you +promise me something?" + +"Anything in my power," she said faintly. + +"It is not much--only this. If the time should ever come when you are +in trouble, if you should ever be in need of a true and devoted +friend, will you turn to me? Will you let me try to pay my debt of +gratitude to you?" + +She lifted her head and looked at him with tear-dimmed eyes. Every +good woman sympathizes with those whose suffering she has +inadvertently caused, and in that moment Lois would have done anything +to alleviate Travers' pain. + +"If it should ever be necessary, I will turn to you," she said gently. +"I promise you." + +"Thank you!" he said, and, taking her out-stretched hand, raised it +reverently to his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +AT THE GATES OF A GREAT PEOPLE + + +Although Travers lost no time in setting to work on the task of +calling a new and suitable club-house into existence, he realized +immediately that, do what he would, he could not hope for completion +before the lapse of a considerable time, and this period of waiting +did not suit his plans. Already on the day after the Rajah's reception +he had arranged for a return of hospitality which was to take place in +his own grounds and to be on an unusually magnificent scale. The +European population of Marut shrugged its shoulders as it saw the +preparations, and observed that if Travers had been as generous in the +first place there would never have been any need to have sought for +support from a foreign quarter--at which criticism Travers merely +smiled. The club-house was, after all, only a means to a very much +more important end of his own. + +Rajah Nehal Singh of course accepted the invitation sent him, and +scarcely a week passed before the eventful evening arrived toward +which more than one looked forward with eager anticipation--not least +Mrs. Cary, who saw in every large entertainment a fresh opportunity +for Beatrice to carry out her own particular campaign. It was +therefore, as Mrs. Cary angrily declared, a fresh dispensation of an +unfriendly Providence that on the very same day Beatrice fell ill. +What malady had her in its clutches was more than her distracted and +aggrieved mother could say. She sat before her writing-table, playing +idly with a curiously cut stone, and appeared the picture of health. +Yet she was ill--she repeated it obstinately and without variation a +dozen times in response to Mrs. Cary's persistent protests. + +"You don't _look_ ill," Mrs. Cary exclaimed in exasperation as, +arrayed in her newest wonder from Paris, she came to say good-by. "I +can't think what's the matter with you, and you won't explain. Have +you got a pain anywhere?--Have you a headache? For goodness' sake, say +something, child!" + +Beatrice looked at her mother calmly, and a curious mixture of +bitterness and amusement crept into her expression as her eyes +wandered over the bulk in mauve satin to the red face with the +indignant little eyes. + +"What do you want me to say?" she asked. "I can't explain pains I +haven't got." + +"If you haven't got any pains, then you aren't ill." + +Beatrice laughed. + +"That shows how ignorant you are of the human constitution, my dear +mother," she said. "The worst illnesses are painless--at least, in +your sense of the word." + +"I am not so ignorant as not to know one thing--and that is you are +simply shamming!" burst out the elder woman, with a vicious tug at her +straining gloves. "Shamming just to aggravate me, too! You do it to +spite me. You are a bad daughter--" + +Beatrice turned round so sharply that Mrs. Cary broke off in the +middle of her abuse with a gasp. + +"I do nothing to aggravate or spite you," Beatrice said, with a calm +which her eyes belied. "I have never gone against you in the whole +course of my life. What have I done since we have been here but play +an obedient fiddle to Mr. Travers' will, in order that your position +might not be endangered--" + +"_Our_ position," interposed Mrs. Cary hurriedly. + +"No, _your_ position. There may have been a time when I cared, too, +but I don't now. I have ceased caring for anything. To suit Mr. +Travers, I have fooled, and continue to fool, a man who has never +harmed me in his life. I move heaven and earth to come between two +people for whom alone in this whole place, I have a glimmer of +respect." + +"Respect!" jeered Mrs. Cary. + +"Yes, respect--not much, I confess, but still enough to have made me +leave them alone if I had had the chance. Lois has been kind to me. I +happen to know that, little as she likes me, she is about the only one +in the Station who keeps her tongue from slander and--the truth. As +for John Stafford, if he is a narrow-minded bigot, he is at least a +man, and that is something to appreciate." + +"That is just what I think!" Mrs. Cary said conciliatingly. "And +therefore he is the very husband for you, dear child." + +"You think so, not because he is a man, but because he has a position +in which it would suit you excellently to have a son-in-law. Well, I +have promised to do my best, though I am convinced it is too late." + +"There is no official engagement between them," Mrs. Cary said +hopefully, "and you know your power, Beaty. He already likes you more +than enough, and what with Mr. Travers on the other side--All the +same," she continued, becoming suddenly petulant, "it's too bad of you +to throw away a chance like this." + +Beatrice covered her face with her hand with a gesture of complete +weariness. + +"I have promised to do my best," she reiterated. "Let me do it my own +way. I can not go to-night--I feel I can not. If I went, it would +only be a failure. Let me for once be judge of what is best." + +Her mother sighed resignedly. + +"Very well. I suppose I can't force you. You can be as obstinate as a +mule when you choose. I only hope you won't live to regret it. Good +night." + +This time she did not give her daughter the usual perfunctory and +barely tolerated kiss. At the bottom of her torpid, selfish soul she +was bitterly hurt and disappointed, as those people always are who +have hurt and disappointed others their whole lives, and only a +glimmer of hope that Beatrice's determination might have softened made +her hesitate at the door and glance back. Beatrice sat just as she had +sat the whole evening, in an attitude of moody thought, her fingers +still playing with the blood-red ruby, and Mrs. Cary went out, +slamming the door violently after her. + +In consequence of her long and futile appeal, Mrs. Cary had made +herself very late, and when she entered the large marquee which +Travers had had erected in his garden she found that all the guests +had arrived, including Rajah Nehal Singh himself. He stood facing the +entrance, and she felt, with a consoling sense of spiteful triumph, +how his glance hurried past her, seeking the figure which no doubt +above all else had tempted him thither. + +The senior lady, Mrs. Carmichael, was at his side, and as Mrs. Cary in +duty bound went up to pay her respects, she added satisfaction to +satisfaction by relating loudly that her daughter had a slight +headache which she had not thought it worth while to increase by a +form of entertainment which, between you and me, dear Mrs. Carmichael, +bad taste as it no doubt is, has no attractions for Beatrice. Now, +anything outdoor, and nothing will keep her from it! She turned to +Stafford, who was standing with Lois close at hand. "That reminds me +to tell you, Captain, how tremendously my daughter enjoyed her ride +with you yesterday. If you promise not to get conceited, I will tell +you what she said." + +"I promise!" he said, with a mock gravity which concealed a very real +amusement. + +"She said that in her opinion there wasn't a better horseman in Marut, +and that it was more pleasure to ride with you than any one else. Now, +are you keeping your promise?" She tapped him playfully on the arm. +Stafford bowed, looking what he felt, hot and uncomfortable. There are +some people who have the knack of making others ashamed of them and of +themselves. Mrs. Cary was just such a person. + +"It was very kind of Miss Cary to say so," Stafford said stiffly. "I +am afraid her praise is not justified." + +All this time Nehal Singh had been standing at Mrs. Cary's elbow, and +she had persistently ignored him. Deeper than her reverence for any +form of title was her wounded conviction that he had once laughed at +her and made her ridiculous, and to this injury was added the insult +that it came from a man whom, as an Englishwoman, she had the +privilege of "tolerating." A true parvenu, she had quickly learned to +suspect and despise the credentials of other intruders. + +He turned away from her and for the first time there was something +hesitating and troubled in his manner. Hitherto there had been songs +and music for his entertainment; it was now the turn of the Europeans +to follow their usual form of pleasure, yet they looked at one another +questioningly. It was the custom of the chief guest of the evening to +open the dancing, but this could hardly be expected of a native prince +who was as yet ignorant of such things and who must still be bound and +fettered by caste and religion. + +The pause of uncertainty lasted only a moment, but for those at least +whose eyes were open, it was a moment symbolical of a great +loneliness. In the midst of a gay and crowded world of people, linked +together by a common tie of blood, Nehal Singh stood isolated. He did +not know it, but it was that loneliness which cast a transitory chill +upon his enthusiasm and made him draw himself stiffly upright and face +the hundred questioning eyes with a new hauteur. An instant and it was +gone--that illuminating flash vanished, like a line drawn across a +quicksand, beneath the surface, never to be seen again, perhaps never +even to be remembered. + +Stafford led Lois out into the center, and one pair after another +followed his example. With Travers still at his side, the Rajah drew +back from the now crowded floor of dancers, and watched the scene with +glistening, eager eyes, happy at last to be in the midst of them--the +Great People of the world. It was a brilliant scene, for Travers had +spared nothing. The sides of the marquee banked with flowers, the +music, the brilliant dresses and uniforms, were all calculated to +impress a mind as yet curiously unspoiled by the pomp and magnificence +of the East. They impressed Nehal Singh deeply; his mind was filled +with a wonder and pleasure which did something toward soothing the +first bitter disappointment that the evening had brought him. + +But above all else, he wondered at himself and the rapidity of the +fate which in two short weeks had swept him out of his solitude into +the very vortex of a world unknown to him save through his books. He +asked himself what power it was that had flung aside caste, religion, +education, like a child's sandcastle before the onrush of a mighty +tide. Caste, religion, hatred of the foreigner, these things had been +sown deep into him, had been fostered and trained like precious +plants, and now they were dead at the first contact with European +ideas. They were gone as though they had never been. He had made no +resistance. He had drifted with the stream, regardless of the +entreating, threatening hands held out to him; yielding to a divine +power stronger than himself, stronger far than the implanted +principles of his life. + +His wonder, though he did not know it, was shared by the Englishman at +his side. Travers, accustomed as he was to look upon human theories +and principles as buyable and saleable appendages, could not suppress +a mild surprise at the rapidity with which this Hindu prince had +assimilated the ideas and mental attitude of another hemisphere. +Possibly it could be traced back to the parrot-like propensities of +all inferior races, but Travers, much as the solution appealed to him, +could not accept it. A parrot that assumes with apparent ease the ways +of his master within a fortnight, and thereby retains a striking +originality of his own, is not an ordinary parrot, and the conviction +was dawning on Travers that Nehal Singh was not an ordinary Hindu. The +unusual simplicity of his dress, which nevertheless concealed a costly +and refined taste, his firm though unpretentious bearing, the energy +with which he had overthrown what Travers guessed must have been a +fairly violent opposition on the part of his priestly advisers, +pointed to a decided, interesting and perhaps, under certain +circumstances, dangerous personality. The latter part of this +deduction had not as yet struck Travers in its full force, but so much +he at least felt that he proceeded to go warily, relying on his +diplomacy and still more on a weapon which was not the less effective +for being kept, as on this occasion, in the background. + +"Rajah Sahib, this is our second meeting," he said, after a few +minutes' study of the handsome absorbed face. "I have my answer +ready." + +Nehal Singh turned at once, as though he had been waiting for Travers +to broach the subject. + +"You have not forgotten, then?" + +"Forgotten? No; it lent itself too easily to my fancy and secret +ambition for me to forget. Doubtless, though, my answer will not +appeal to you, for it is the answer of a business man with a business +hobby of immense proportions and of the earth earthy." + +"Nevertheless, tell it to me," Nehal Singh said, looking about him as +though seeking a way out of the noise and confusion. "Whatever it is, +it will interest me so long as it has one object." + +"I venture to think I know that object," was Travers' mental comment +as he led the way into the second division of the marquee. + +The place had been laid out as a refreshment room, with small, +prettily decorated tables, and was for the moment empty, save for a +few busy native servants. An electric globe hung from the ceiling, and +immediately beneath its brilliant light Travers came to a standstill. +He put his hand in his pocket and drew out what seemed to be a +jewel-case, which he opened and handed to the Rajah. + +"Before I say anything further, I want you to look at that and give me +your opinion, Rajah Sahib," he said. "I will then proceed." + +Nehal Singh took the small white stone from the case and studied it +intently. He held it to the light, and it flashed back at him a +hundred brilliant colors. He smiled with the pleasure of a +connoisseur. + +"It is a diamond," he said, "a beautiful diamond. Though smaller, it +must surely equal the one I wear in my turban." + +"You confirm my opinion and the opinion of all experts," Travers +answered enthusiastically, "and I will confess to you that it is that +stone which has prolonged my stay indefinitely at Marut. About a year +ago a friend of mine, an engineer, who was engaged on some government +work at the river, had occasion to make excavations about a quarter of +a mile from the Bazaar. He happened to come across this stone, and +being something of an expert, he recognized it--and held his tongue. +When he came south again to Madras, he confided hit discovery to me, +and, impressed by his story, and the stone, I sent a mining engineer +to Marut to make secret investigations. I received his report six +months ago." + +Nehal Singh replaced the stone slowly in its case. + +"What did he say?" he asked. + +"He reported that there were sure and certain signs that the whole of +the Bazaar is built upon a diamond field of unusual proportions, +which, unlike other Indian mining enterprises, was likely to repay, +doubly repay, exploitation. I immediately came to Marut, and found +that the Bazaar was entirely your property, Rajah Sahib, and that you +were not likely to be influenced by any representations. Nevertheless +I remained, experimenting and investigating, above all hoping that +some chance would lead me in your way. Destiny, as you see, Rajah +Sahib, has spoken the approving word." + +Nehal Singh sighed as he handed the case back, and the sigh expressed +a. rather weary disappointment. + +"I have stones enough and wealth enough," he said. "I have no need of +more." + +"It was not of you I was thinking, Rajah Sahib," Travers returned. + +"Of whom, then?" + +"Of myself, to some extent, as becomes a business man, but also, and I +venture to assert principally, of the general welfare of your country +and people." + +"I fear I do not understand you." + +"And yet, Rajah Sahib, you have read, and have no doubt been able to +trace through history the source of prosperity and misfortune among +the nations. The curse of India is her overpopulation and the +inability of her people to extract from the earth sufficient means for +existence. If I may say so, the ordinary native is a dreamer who +prefers to starve on a treasure hoard rather than bestir himself to +unbury it. Lack of energy, lack of initiative, lack of opportunity, +lack also of guides have made your subjects suffering idlers whose +very existence is a curse to themselves and an unsolved problem for +others. Charity can not help them--that enervating poison has already +done enough mischief. You could fling away your whole fortune on your +state, and leave it with no improvement. The cure, if cure there be, +lies in the awakening of a sense of independence and ambition and +self-respect. Only work can do this, only work can transform them from +beggars into honorable, self-supporting members of the Empire; and the +crying misery of the present time calls upon you, Rajah Sahib, to +rouse them to their new task!" + +He had spoken with an enthusiasm which grew in measure as he saw its +effect upon his hearer. For though he did not immediately respond, +Nehal Singh's face had betrayed emotions which a natural dignity was +learning to hold back from impulsive expression. He answered at last +quietly, but with an irrepressible undercurrent of eagerness. + +"You speak convincingly," he said; "and though I fear you overrate the +hidden powers of activity in my people, you have made me still more +anxious for a direct answer to my question--what would you do in my +place?" + +"If I had the money and the power, I would sweep the Bazaar, with all +its dirt and disease, out of existence," Travers answered +energetically. "I would build up a new native quarter outside Marut, +and enforce order and cleanliness. Where the present Bazaar stands, I +would open out a mine, and with the help of European experts encourage +the natives into the subsequent employment which would stand open to +them. In a short time a mere military Station would become the center +of native industry and commercial prosperity." + +A faint skeptical smile played around Nehal Singh's mouth, but his +eyes were still profoundly grave. + +"If I know my people, I fear they will revolt against such changes," +he said. "You have described them as dreamers who prefer starvation to +effort--such they are." + +"Your influence would be irresistible, Rajah Sahib." + +Nehal Singh looked at Travers keenly. For the second time he had been +spoken of as a power. Was it perhaps true, as his father had said, and +this cool Englishman had said, that the thoughts and actions of more +than a million people lay at his command? If so, the twenty-five years +of his life had been wasted, and he stood far below the high standard +which had been set him. He had wandered aimlessly along a smooth path, +cut off from the world, plucking such fruits and flowers as offered +themselves within his reach, deaf to the cries of those to whom his +highest efforts should have been dedicated. He had dreamed where he +should have acted, slept where he should have watched and labored +unceasingly, yet it was not too late. He felt how his whole +dream-world shivered beneath the convulsions of his awakening +energies. The vague, futile, uneasy longings of his immaturity took +definite shape. His shackled abilities awaited only the signal to +throw off their fetters and in freedom to create good for the whole +world. + +"You have shown me possibilities of which I never dreamed," he said to +Travers. "I must speak to you again, and soon, for if things are as +you say, then time enough has been wasted. But not tonight. Tomorrow I +will see you--or no, not tomorrow--the day after. I must have time to +think." + +The waltz had died sentimentally into silence, and he made a gesture +indicating that he wished to return to the ball-room. Yet on the +threshold he hesitated and drew back. + +"The light and confusion trouble me," he said, passing his hand over +his eyes, "and my mind is full of new thoughts. If you will permit, I +will take my leave. My servants are waiting outside, and if you will +carry my thanks to my other hosts, I should prefer to go unnoticed." + +"It is as you wish, Rajah Sahib," Travers returned, "It is we who have +to thank you for partaking of our poor hospitality." + +"You have given me more than hospitality," Nehal Singh interposed. +Then he lifted his hand in salute. "In two days I shall expect you." + +"In two days." + +Travers watched the tall, white-clad figure pass out of the brightly +lighted tent into the darkness. From beginning to end, his plans had +been crowned with unhoped-for success, and yet he was puzzled. + +"I wonder why in two days?" he thought. "Why not tomorrow? I wonder if +by any chance--!" He broke off with a smothered laugh. "It is just +possible. I'll make sure and send her a line." + +Then, as the band began the first bars of a second waltz, he hurried +back into the crowded room in time to forestall Stafford at Lois' +side. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +WITHIN THE GATES + + +Nehal Singh's servants stood with the horses outside Travers' compound +and waited. Their master did not disturb them. Glad as he was to get +away from the crowd of strangers and the dazzling lights and colors, +it still pleased him to be within hearing of the music which, softened +by the distance, exercised a melancholy yet soothing influence upon +his disturbed mind. For the dreamy peace had gone for ever--as indeed +it must be when the soul of man is roughly shaken into living, +pulsating life, and he fevered with a hundred as yet disordered hopes +and ambitions. To be a benefactor to his people and to all mankind, to +be the first pioneer of his race in the search after civilization and +culture--these had been the dreams of his hitherto wasted life, only +he had never recognized them, never understood whither the restless +impulses were driving him. It had needed the pure soul of a good woman +to unlock the best from his own; it had needed the genius of a clear +brain to harness the untrained faculties to some definite aim. The +soul of a woman had come and had planted upon him the purity of her +high ideal; the genius had already shot its first illuminating ray +into his darkness. Henceforth the watchword for them all was to be +"Forward," and Nehal Singh, standing like a white ghost in the +deserted compound, shaken by the force of his own emotions, +intoxicated by his own happiness and the shining future which spread +itself before his eyes, sent up a prayer such as rarely ascends from +earth to Heaven. To whom? Not to Brahma. His mind had burst like a +raging tide over the flood-gates of caste and creed and embraced the +whole world and the one God who has no name, no creed, no dogma, but +whom in that moment he recognized in great thanksgiving as the +Universal Father. + +Thus far had Nehal Singh traveled in two short weeks--guided by a +woman who had no God and a man who had no God save his own ends. But +he did not know this. As he began to pace slowly backward and forward, +listening to the distant music, he thought of her, and measured +himself with her ideal in a humility which did not reject hope. One +day he would be able to stand before her and say, "Thus far have I +worked and striven for inner worth and for the good of my brothers. I +have kept myself pure and honest, I have cultivated in myself the best +I have, and have been inexorable against the evil. Thus much have I +attained." + +Further than that triumphant moment he did not think, but he thanked +God for the ideal which had been set him--the Great People's ideal of +a man--and for the afterward which he knew must come. + +Thus absorbed in his own reflections, he reached Travers' bungalow, +and a ray of light falling across his path, brought him sharply back +to the present reality. He looked up and saw that a table had been +pulled out on to the verandah, and that four officers sat round it, +playing cards by the light of a lamp. At Marut there was always a +heavy superfluity of men, and these four, doubtless weary of standing +uselessly about, had made good their escape to enjoy themselves in +their own way. Nehal Singh hesitated. He felt a strong desire to go up +and join them, to learn to know them outside the enervating, leveling +atmosphere of social intercourse where each is forced to keep his real +individuality hidden behind a wall of phrases. Now, no doubt, they +would show themselves openly to him as they were; they would admit him +into the circle of their intimate life, and teach him the secret of +the greatness which had carried their flag to the four corners of the +earth. Yet he hesitated to make his presence known. The study of the +four faces, unconscious of his scrutiny, absorbed him. + +The two elder men were known to him, although their names were +forgotten. Their fair hair, regular, somewhat cold, features led him +to suppose that they were brothers. The other two were considerably +younger--they seemed to Nehal Singh almost boys, though in all +probability they were his own age. One especially interested him. He +was a good-looking young fellow, with pleasant if somewhat effeminate +features and a healthy skin bronzed with the Indian sun. He sat +directly opposite where Nehal Singh stood in the shadow, and when he +shifted his cards, as he often did in a restless, uneasy way, he gave +the unseen watcher an opportunity to study every line of his set face. + +Nehal Singh wondered at his expression. The others were grave with the +gravity of indifference, but this boy had his teeth set, and something +in his eyes reminded Nehal Singh of a dog he had once seen confronted +suddenly with an infuriated rattle-snake. It was the expression of +hypnotized fear which held him back from intruding himself upon them, +and he was about to retrace his steps quietly when the man who was +seated next the balustrade turned and glanced so directly toward him +that Nehal Singh thought his presence was discovered. The officer's +next words showed, however, that his gaze had passed over Nehal +Singh's head to the brightly lighted marquee on the other side of the +compound. + +"I'm glad to be out of that crush," Captain Webb said, as he lazily +gathered up his cards. "Fearfully rotten show I call it--not a pretty +girl among the lot, and a heat enough to make the devil envious! I +can't think what induced our respected Napoleon to make such a fool of +himself." + +"Napoleon hasn't made a fool of himself, you can make yourself easy on +that score," Saunders retorted. "Napoleon knows on which side of the +bread his butter lies, even if you don't. When he dances attendance on +any one, you can take it on trust that the butter isn't far off. No, +no; I've a great reverence for Nappy's genius." + +"It's an infernally undignified proceeding, anyhow," Webb went on. +"I'm beginning to see that old Stafford wasn't so far wrong. What do +we want with the fellow? All this kowtowing will go to his head and +make him as 'uppish' as the rest of 'em. He's conceited enough, +already, aping us as though he had been at it all his life." + +"That's the mistake we English are always making," grumbled Saunders, +as he played out. "We are too familiar. We swallow anything for +diplomacy's sake, even if it hasn't got so much as a coating of +varnish. We pull these fellows up to our level and pamper them as +though they were our equals, and then when they find we won't go the +whole hog, they turn nasty and there's the devil to pay. In this case +I didn't mind so long as he kept his place, but then that's what they +never do. That's our rubber, I think. Shall we stop?" + +"I've had enough, anyhow," his vis-a-vis answered. "Add up the dern +total, will you, there's a good fellow. I must be getting home. +There's that boring parade to-morrow at five again, and I've got a +headache that will last me a week, thanks to Nappy's bad champagne. +Well, what's the damage?" + +The young fellow who had sat with his head bowed over his cards looked +up with a sickly smile. + +"Yes, what's the damage?" he said. "I can't be bothered--I've lost +count. You and I must have done pretty badly, Phipps." + +"I dare say we shall survive," his partner rejoined carelessly. "We +have lost five rubbers. How does that work out, Webb?" + +"I'll trouble you for a hundred each," Webb answered, after a minute's +calculation. "Quite a nice, profitable evening for us, eh, Saunders. +Thanks, awfully, old fellow." He gathered up the rupees which the +boy's partner had pushed toward him. The boy himself sat as though +frozen to stone. Only when Saunders gave him a friendly nudge, he +started and looked about him as though he had been awakened out of a +trance. + +"I'm awfully sorry," he stuttered; "you and Webb--would you mind +waiting till to-morrow? I'll raise it somehow--I haven't got so +much--" + +Phipps broke into a laugh. + +"You silly young duffer!" he said. "What have you been doing with your +pocket money, eh? Been buying too many sweeties?" + +The other two men roared, but the boy's features never relaxed. + +"I tell you I haven't got so much with me," he mumbled. "I'll bring it +to-morrow, I promise." + +Webb rose from his chair, stretching himself languidly. + +"All right," he agreed. "To-morrow will do. By Jove, what a gorgeous +night it is!" He leaned over the balustrade, lifting his aristocratic +face to the sky. "Saunders, you don't want to go to bed, you old +cormorant. Come on with me, and we'll spend the night hours worthily." + +"I'm game!" Saunders rejoined. "That is, if it's anything decent. I'm +not going to do any more tar-worshipping, that's certain." + +"Don't want you to. I'm going to dress up and have a run around the +Bazaar, and if you want a little excitement, you had better do +likewise. You see things you don't see in the daytime, I can tell you, +and some of the women aren't bad. Come on! We can run round to my +diggings and change. Are you coming, Phipps and Geoffries?" + +The weedy young man addressed as Phipps rose with alacrity. + +"Anything for a change," he said. "Wake up, Innocence!" He brought his +hand down with a friendly thump on Geoffries' shoulder, but the boy +shook his head. + +"No," he said, in the same rough, monotonous voice. "I'm done for +to-night. You fellows get on without me." + +"As you like. Good night." + +"Good night." + +The three men went into the bungalow. Gradually their voices died away +in the distance, but the boy never moved, never shifted his blank +stare from the cards in front of him. It was a curious tableau. In the +midst of the darkness it was as though a lime-light had been thrown on +to a theatrical representation of despair, while beneath, hidden by +the shadow, a lonely spectator, to whom the scene was a horrible +revelation, fought out a hard battle between indignation and +disbelief. + +Throughout the conversation Nehal Singh had stood rigid, his hand +clenched on the jeweled hilt of his sword, his eyes riveted on the +faces of the four men who were thus unconsciously drawing him into the +intimate circle of their life. Much that they said was incomprehensible +to him. The references to "Napoleon" and to the unknown individual +contemptuously dubbed "the fellow" were not clear, but they left him +a gnawing sense of insult and scorn which he could not conquer. The +subsequent chink of money changing hands had jarred upon his ears--the +final dispute concerning their further pleasure made him sick with +disgust. These "gentlemen" sought their amusement in a place where he +would have scorned to set his foot. + +This fact obliterated for a moment every other consideration. Was it +to these that his hero-worship was dedicated? Were these the men from +whom he was to learn greatness of thought, heroism of action, purity +in life, idealism--these blatant, coarse-worded, coarse-minded cynics +to whom duty was a "bore" and pleasure an excuse to plunge into the +lowest dregs of existence? In vain his young enthusiasm, his almost +passionate desire to honor greatness in others fought his contemptuous +conviction of their unworthiness. Gradually, it is true, he grew +calmer, and, like a climber who has been flung from a high peak, +gathered himself from his fall, ready to climb again. He told himself +that as an outsider he did not understand either the words or the +actions which he had heard and witnessed, that he judged them by the +narrow standard of a life spent cut off from the practical ways of the +world. He repeated to himself Beatrice Cary's assurance--"All men do +not carry their heart on their sleeve." He told himself that behind +the jarring flippancy there still could lurk a hidden depth and +greatness. Nevertheless the received impression was stronger than all +argument. The climber, apparently unhurt, had sustained a vital +injury. + +Nehal Singh was about to turn away, desirous only to be alone, when a +sound fell on his ears which sent a sudden sharp thrill through his +troubled heart. It was a groan, a single, half-smothered groan, +breaking through compressed lips by the very force of an overpowering +misery. Nehal looked back. The blank stare was gone, the boy lay with +his face buried in his arms. + +In that moment the dreamer in Nehal died, the man of instant, +impulsive action took his place. He hurried up the steps of the +verandah and laid his hand on the bowed shoulder. + +"You are in trouble," he said. "What is the matter?" + +As though he had been struck by a shock of electricity, Geoffries half +sprang to his feet, and then, as he saw the dark face so close to his +own, he sank back again, speechless and white to the lips. For a +moment the two men looked at each other in unbroken silence. + +"I am sorry I have startled you," Nehal said at length, "but I could +not see you in such distress. I do not know what it is, but if you +will confide in me, I may be able to help you." + +"Rajah Sahib," stammered the young fellow, in helpless confusion, "if +I had known you were there--" + +"You would not have revealed your trouble to me?" Nehal finished, with +a faint smile. "And that, I think, would have been a pity for us both. +If I can help you, perhaps you can help me." He paused and then added +slowly: "I have been standing watching you a long time." + +"A long time!" A curious fear crept over the boyish face. "You saw us +playing, then--and heard what we said?" + +"Yes." + +"And you wish to help me?" + +"If I can." + +Geoffries turned his head away, avoiding the direct gaze. + +"You are very kind, Rajah Sahib. I'm afraid I'm not to be helped." + +The sight of that awkward shame and misery drove all personal grief +from Nehal's mind. He drew forward a chair and seated himself opposite +his companion, clasping his sinewy, well-shaped hands on the table +before him. + +"Let us try and put all formalities aside," he said. "If you can treat +me as a friend, let nothing prevent you. We are strangers to each +other, but then the whole world is stranger to me. Yet I would be glad +to help and understand the world, as I would be glad to help and +understand you if you will let me." + +Geoffries looked shyly at this strange _deus ex machina_, troubled by +perplexing considerations. How much had the Rajah heard of the +previous conversation, how much had he understood? Above all, what +would his comrades say if they found him pouring out his heart to +"this fellow," who had been the constant butt for their arrogant +contempt? And yet, as often happens, amidst his many friends he was +intensely alone. There was no single one to whom he could turn with +the burden of his conscience, no one to whom he did not systematically +play himself off as something other than he was. And opposite he +looked into a face full of grave sympathy, not unshadowed with +personal sadness. Yet he hesitated, and Nehal Singh went on +thoughtfully: + +"There are some things I do not understand," he said. "You were +playing some game for money. I have heard of that before, but I do not +understand. Are you then, so poor?" + +Geoffries laughed miserably. + +"I am now," he said. + +"Then it _is_ money that is the trouble?" + +"It always is. At first one plays for the fun of the thing and +because--oh, well, one has to, don't you know. Afterward, one plays to +get it back." + +"But you have not got it back?" + +Geoffries shook his head. + +"I never do," he said. "I'm a rotter at bridge." + +"A hundred rupees!" Nehal went on reflectively. "That was the sum, I +think? It is very little--not enough to cause you any trouble." + +"Not by itself," Geoffries agreed, with a fresh collapse into his old +depression. "But it is the last straw. I'm cut pretty short by the +home people, who don't understand, and there are other things--polo +ponies, dinner-races, subscriptions--" + +"And the Bazaar." + +Geoffries caught his breath and glanced across at the stern, unhappy +face. He read there in an instant a pitying contempt which at first +seemed ridiculous, and then insolent, and then terrible. Boy as he +was, there flashed through his easy-going brain some vague unformed +recognition of the unshifting national responsibility which weighs +upon the shoulders of the greatest and the least. He understood, +though not clearly, that he and his three comrades had dragged +themselves and their race in the mud at the feet of a foreigner, and +with that shock of understanding came the desire to vindicate himself +and the uncounted millions who were linked to him. + +"You think badly of us, Rajah Sahib," he said fiercely. "Perhaps you +have a right to do so from what you have seen; but you have not seen +all--no, not nearly all. You've seen us in the soft days when we've +nothing to do but drill recruits and while away the time as best we +can. Think what the monotony means--day after day the same work, the +same faces. Who can blame us if we get slack and ready to do anything +for a change? I know some of us are rotters--especially here in Marut. +Most of us belong to the British Regiment, and are accustomed to +luxury and ease in the old country. I haven't got that excuse--I'm in +the Gurkhas--and what I do I do because I _am_ a rotter. But there are +men who are not. There are men, Rajah Sahib, right up there by the +northern provinces, who are made of steel and iron, real men, +heroes--" + +Nehal Singh leaned forward and caught his companion by the arm. + +"Heroes?" he said with passionate earnestness. "Heroes?" + +Geoffries nodded. That look of enthusiastic sympathy won his heart and +awoke his soldier's slumbering pride. + +"I'm no good at explaining," he said, "but I know of things that would +stir your blood. For a whole year--my first year--I was up north in a +mud fortress where there was only one other European officer. It was +Nicholson. You mayn't have heard of him--precious few people have--but +up there in that lonely, awful place, with wild hill-tribes about us +and a handful of sepoys for our protection, he was a god--yes, a god; +for there was not one of us that didn't worship him and honor him. We +would have followed him to the mouth of hell. He was young, only six +months a captain, and yet there was nothing he didn't seem to know, +nothing he couldn't do. Every day he was in the saddle, +reconnoitering, visiting the heads of the tribes, making peace, +distributing justice. Every day he went out with his life in his +hands, and every night he came back, quiet, unpretending, never +boasting, never complaining, and yet we knew that somewhere he had +risked himself to clear a stone out of our way, to win an enemy over +to our side, to confirm a friend in his friendship. Yes, he was a man; +and there are others like him. No one hears about them, but they don't +care. They go on giving their lives and energy to their work, and +never ask for thanks or reward. I--once hoped to be like that; but I +came to Marut--and then--" He stumbled and stopped short. "I'm a +ranting fool!" he went on angrily. "You won't understand, Rajah Sahib, +but I couldn't stand your thinking that they are all like me--" + +Nehal Singh rose to his feet. + +"Nicholson!" he repeated slowly, as though he had not heard. "I shall +remember that name. And there are more like him? That is well." Then +he laid his hand on the young officer's shoulder. "I am going to help +you," he said. "I am going to save you from whatever trouble you are +in, and then you must go back to the frontiers and become a man after +the ideal that has been set you. One day you can repay me." + +The storm of protest died on Geoffries' lips. Prejudices, the +ingrained arrogance of race which scorned to accept friendship at the +hands of an inferior, sank to ashes as his eyes met those of this +Hindu prince. + +"What have I done to deserve your kindness, Rajah Sahib?" he began +helplessly, but Nehal Singh cut him smilingly short. + +"You have saved me," he said. "To-night my faith hung in the balance. +You have given it back to me, and in my turn I will save you and give +you back what you have lost. And this shall be a bond between us. You +will hear from me to-morrow. Good night." + +"Good night, Rajah Sahib--and--thank you." He hesitated, and then went +on painfully: "You have shown me that we have behaved like cads. I--am +awfully sorry." + +He was not referring to the Bazaar, as Nehal supposed. + +"The past is over and done with," Nehal Singh answered, "but the +future is ours--and the common ideal which we must follow for the +common good." + +Hugh Geoffries stood a long time after the Rajah had left him, +absorbed in wondering speculation. Who was this strange man who a few +weeks ago had been but a shadow, and to-day stood in the midst of +them, sharing their life and yet curiously alone? He had met other +Indian rulers, but they had not been as this man. They had also joined +the European life, but they had come as strangers and had remained as +strangers. They had learned to assume an outward conformity which this +prince had not needed to learn. And yet he stood alone, even among his +own people alone. Wherein lay the link, wherein the barrier? Was it +caste, religion? + +Hugh Geoffries found no answer to these questions. He went home +sobered and thoughtful, dimly conscious that he had brushed past the +mystery of a great character, whom, in spite of all, he had been +forced to reverence. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WHITE HAND + + +It is an old truth that things have their true existence only in +ourselves. A picture is perfect, moderate, or indifferent, according +to our tastes; an event fortunate or unfortunate according to our +character. Thus life, though in reality no more than a pure stream of +colorless water, changes its hue the moment it is poured into the +waiting pitchers, and becomes turbid, or assumes some lovely color, or +retains its first crystal clearness, in measure that the earthenware +is of the best or poorest quality. + +In Travers' pitcher it had become kaleidoscopic, only saved from dire +confusion by one steady, consistent color, which tinged and killed by +its brilliancy the hundred other rainbow fragments. Such was life for +him--such at least it had become--a gay chaos in which the one +important thing was himself; a game, partly instructive, partly +amusing, with no rules save that the player is expected to win. Of +course, as in all matters, a certain order, or appearance of order, +had to be maintained; but Travers believed, and thought every one else +believed, that it was a mere "appearance," and that, as in the +childish game of "cheating," the card put on the table has not always +the face it is affirmed by the player to possess. Doubtless it is +sometimes an honest card--Travers himself played honest cards very +often--but that is part of the game, part of the cheating, one might +be tempted to say. + +A suspicious opponent becomes shy of accusing a player who has been +able to refute a previous accusation, and those people whose doubts +had been aroused by one of Travers' transactions, and had been rash +enough to conclude that all Travers' works were "shady," had been +badly burned for their presumption. After one indignant vindication of +his methods Travers had been allowed to go his way, smiling, +unperturbed, with a friendly twinkle in his eye for his detractors +which acknowledged a perfect understanding. On the whole he had been +successful. A Napoleon of finance, he never burned his bridges. If any +of his campaigns failed, as they sometimes did, he had always a safe +retreat left open; and if his bridge proved only strong enough to +carry himself over, and gave way under his flying followers--well, it +was a misfortune which could have been averted if every one had taken +as much care of himself as he had done. When well beyond pursuit, he +would hold out a helping hand to the survivors, and received therefor +as much gratitude as on the other occasions he received abuse. Which +filled him with good-natured amusement, the one being as undeserved as +the other. + +His last enterprise, the Marut Campaign, thanks to a happy +constellation of circumstances, promised an unusual degree of success, +and his enthusiasm on the subject was not the less real because he +kept hidden his usual reserve for unforeseen possibilities. According +to the Rajah's invitation, he repaired early on the second day after +their momentous conversation to the palace. He was received there by +an old servant, who told him that Nehal Singh had gone out riding +before sunrise, but was expected to return shortly. + +"The Rajah Sahib remembers my coming?" Travers asked. + +"Yes, Sahib. The Rajah Sahib commanded that the palace should be at +the Sahib's disposal while he waits." + +The idea suited Travers excellently. He shook himself free from the +obsequious native, who showed very clearly that he would have +preferred to have kept on a watchful attendance, and began a languid, +indifferent examination of the labyrinth-like passages and deserted +halls. But the languidness and indifference were only masks which he +chose to assume when too great interest would have thwarted his own +schemes. In reality there was not a jewel or ornament which he did not +notice and appraise at the correct value. The immensity of the +palace's dimensions and its intricate plan made it impossible to +obtain a complete survey in so short a time, but at the end of half an +hour Travers' original theory was confirmed. Here was a power of +wealth lying idle, waiting, as it seemed to his natural egoism, for +his hands to put it into action. + +In his imagination he saw the jeweled pillars dismantled and the +inlaid gold and silver changed into the hard money necessary for his +campaign--not without regret. The man of taste suffered not a little +at the changed picture, and since there was no immediate call upon his +activities, he allowed the man of taste to predominate over the +speculator. But the punishment for those who serve God and mammon is +inevitable. There comes the moment when the worshiper of mammon hears +the voice of God calling him, be it through a beautiful woman, a +beautiful poem, a beautiful sculpture, or a simple child, and the +soul, God-given, struggles against the bonds that have been laid upon +it. + +So it was with Travers as he stood there in the Throne Room, gazing +thoughtfully out over the gardens to the ornate towers of the temple. +He was fully conscious of the dual nature in him, and it gave him a +sort of painful pleasure to allow the idealistic side a moment's +supremacy, to imagine himself throwing up his plans, and leaving so +much loveliness and peace undisturbed. It was a mere game which he +played with his own emotions, for it was no longer in his power to +throw up anything upon which he had set his mind. Without knowing it, +he had become the slave of his own will, a headlong, ruthless will, +which saw nothing but the goal, and to whom the lives and happiness of +others were no more than obstacles to be thrown indifferently on one +side. Yet in this short interval, when that will lay inactively in +abeyance, he suffered. + +He had lost Lois, among other things, and the loss stung both sides of +him. He wanted her because he loved her, and because she had become +necessary to his plans. He had wanted her, and in spite of every +effort she had seemed to pass out of his reach. Seemed! As he stood +there with folded arms, watching the sunlight broaden over the +peaceful terraces, it pleased his fancy to imagine that the loss was +real and definite, and that he stood willingly on one side, resigning +himself to the decree that ordained her happiness. With a stabbing +pain came back the memory of their brief interview together. He had +talked of praying for her future. Had he been wholly sincere or, as +now, only so far as a man is who concentrates his temporary interest +upon some sport, only to forget it as soon as it is over? Possibly, +nay, certainly. He did not believe in himself--not, at least, in the +generous, self-sacrificing side. He called that sort of thing in other +people "pose" and in himself a necessary relaxation. For it was one of +his maxims that a man may act as heartlessly as he likes, but to be +successful he must never let himself grow heartless. From the moment +that he ceases to be capable of feeling, he loses touch with the +thoughts and sensibilities of others. And his power of feeling "with" +others was one of Travers' chief business assets. + +It is dangerous, however, to play with emotions that are never to be +allowed an active influence. They have a trick of growing by leaps and +bounds, and before the will has time to realize that an enemy is at +its gates, to fling their whole force against the citadel and +overwhelm the dazed defenses. How near Archibald Travers came that +morning to yielding to himself he never knew. Lois' happy, thankful +face hovered constantly before his eyes. He felt very tender toward +her. He felt that he should like to be able to think of her in the +keeping of a good man--like Stafford--who, if pig-headed and bigoted, +was yet calculated to stick to a woman and make her happy. Looking +straight at himself and his past, Travers could not be sure that he +would stick to any one. Also there was the Rajah, optimistic, and +trusting, so much so that it left an unpleasant taste in the mouth to +fool him. + +But above all else, there was Lois. Lois recurred to him constantly, +overshadowing every other consideration. He thought of her in all her +aspects: Lois, the enterprising, the energetic, plucky, daredevil +comrade; Lois, the ever-ready, untiring, uncomplaining partner in the +hunt, on the tennis-court, in the ball-room; Lois, the woman, with her +gentle charm, her tenderness, her frankness, her truth. He bit his +lip, turning away from the sunshine with knitted brows and fierce +eyes. No, it is no light matter to trifle with the heart, even if it +is only one's own. Nor is it wise for a man, set on a cool, +calculating task of self-advancement, to call up waters from his +hidden wells of tenderness, or to allow a nature strangely susceptible +(as even the worst natures are) to the appeal of the good and +beautiful to have full play, if only for a brief hour. Another five +minutes undisturbed in that splendid hall, with God's divine world +before him and the highest, purest art of man about him, and Travers +might never have waited to meet Nehal Singh. He might have gone +thence, and taken his schemes and plans and ambitions to another +sphere of activity. Five minutes! One second is enough to change a +dozen destinies. A straw divides an act of heroism from an act of +cowardice. + +Archibald Travers turned. He had heard no sound and yet he was certain +that he was no longer alone, that some one stood behind him and was +watching him. For a minute he remained motionless; the bright sunlight +had dazzled him and he could only see the shadows in which the back of +the chamber was enveloped. Yet the consciousness of another presence +continued, and when suddenly a shadow freed itself from the rest and +came toward him, he started less with surprise than with a reasonless, +nameless alarm. It was a woman's figure which came down toward the +golden patch of light in which he stood. He could not see her face for +it was completely shrouded in a long oriental veil, but the bowed +shoulders, the slow, unsteady step indicated an advanced age or an +overpowering physical weakness. She came on without hesitation, +passing so close to Travers that she brushed his arm, and reached the +hangings before the window. There she paused. Travers passed his hand +quickly before his eyes. Her movements had been so quiet, so blindly +indifferent to his presence that he could not for the moment free +himself from the fancy that he was in the power of an hallucination. +Then she lifted her hand, drawing the curtain back, and he uttered an +involuntary, half-smothered exclamation. The hand was thin, claw-like, +white as though no drop of blood flowed beneath the lifeless skin, and +on the fourth finger he saw a plain band of gold. + +"Who are you?" Travers demanded. The question had left his lips almost +without his knowledge. She turned and looked at him, and in spite of +the veil he felt the full intensity of a gaze which seemed to be +seeking his very soul. How long they stood there watching each other +in breathless silence Travers did not know. Nor did he know why this +strange, powerless figure filled him with a sickening repulsion and +held him paralyzed so that he could only wait in passive, motionless +expectation. Suddenly the hand sank to her side and he shook himself +as though he had been awakened from a nightmare. + +"Who are you?" he repeated firmly. + +"You are not the one I seek," she answered. "Why do you keep me from +him? He is mine--my very own. Where is he? I am always seeking for +him--but he is like the shadows--he vanishes--with the sunshine. In my +dreams I see him--" Her voice, thin and low-pitched, died into +silence. She seemed to have shrunk together; she swayed as though she +would have fallen, and Travers took an involuntary step toward her. + +"You speak English--perfect English," he said. "Who are you? Whom do +you seek? Perhaps I can help you--?" His words electrified her. She +caught his arm in a grip of iron and drew close to him so that her +hot, quickly drawn breath fanned his cheek. + +"Help me?" she whispered. "Who can help me? Don't you know that I am +dead?" + +Travers shuddered; he tried to free himself from the clutch of the +white, bloodless hand, but she clung to him desperately, despairingly, +while her voice rose in an agonized crescendo. + +"Don't you know that I am _dead?_" + +Footsteps came hurrying down the corridor. A sudden impulse, a +reawakening of the spirit of action and enterprise, which had carried +him through his life, bade him grasp her hand and drag from it the +loosely fitting ring. + +"I will see you again--dead or living, I will help you," he said. + +The next instant he drew quickly back. A white-bearded native servant +had entered and was moving swiftly with cat-like stealth toward the +veiled figure by the window. He was breathless, as though with hard +running, and seemed oblivious of Travers' presence until, with an +exclamation of relief, he had grasped the unresisting figure by the +wrist. Then he turned, salaaming profoundly. + +"May the Lord Sahib forgive his servant!" he said with a humility +which in Travers' ears rang curiously ironical. "The woman is possessed +of a devil who speaketh lies out of her mouth. It would cost thy +servant dear if she were found with the Lord Sahib." + +Travers assumed an air of indifference. + +"Who is she?" he asked carelessly. + +"My wife, Lord Sahib. The devil has possessed her these many years." + +Travers caught the flash of the cunning, suspicious eyes and knew that +the man had lied. But he said nothing, dismissing him and his captive +with a gesture. Only for an instant, governed by an irresistible +instinct, he glanced over his shoulder. He saw then that the woman's +head was turned toward him and that one white hand was raised as +though in mingled appeal and imperative command. Travers nodded almost +imperceptibly and she disappeared into the shadows of the corridor. + +For some minutes Travers remained motionless, then, as though nothing +unusual had happened, he resumed his critical survey of the precious +stones with which the pillars were adorned, apparently so absorbed +that he did not notice the sound of approaching footsteps. Only when +he was called by name did he look up with a start of pleased surprise. + +"Ah, Your Highness!" he exclaimed. + +The young prince stood in the curtained doorway, dressed as though he +had just returned from riding. He was dusty and travel-stained and, in +spite of his energetic, upright bearing, he looked exhausted. There +were heavy lines under the keen eyes, and Travers noticed for the +first time that his cheeks were slightly hollow, giving his whole +appearance an air of haggard weariness. He lifted his hand in return +to Travers' salute, and came forward with a welcoming smile. + +"My servants told me I should find you here," he said. "I hope the +time of waiting has not been too long?" + +"Indeed, no!" Travers returned, as he descended the throne steps. "I +have been amusing myself right royally. You have surely the most +perfect collection of stones in India." + +"They are well enough," Nehal answered, his smile deepening. "Have you +been calculating how many rupees they will bring in?" + +The remark, which at another time would have called a frank laugh of +agreement from Travers, caused him instead a faint feeling of +annoyance. + +"Perhaps I have," he said, not without a suggestion of bitterness, +"but I am still sufficiently alive to beauty to be able to appreciate +it apart from its intrinsic value." + +Nehal Singh motioned him to take his seat at the low table which a +servant had at that moment brought in. + +"Forgive me," he said. "I fear my remark hurt you. I thought as a +business man you had only one standpoint from which you judged--you +told me as much." + +"Yes, and I told you the truth," Travers said, after a moment, in +which he bent frowningly over his cup of coffee. "I am a business man, +Rajah, and for a business man who wants to make any sort of success of +his life there must be only one standpoint. If he has another side to +his nature, as I have--the purely artistic and emotional side--he must +crush it out of sight, if not out of existence, as I do." He looked up +with a sudden return of his old tranquil humor. "You must not count it +as anything if the beauty of these surroundings for a moment lifted +the unpractical side of me uppermost," he said, laughing. "It was +purely _pro tem.,_ and I am once more my normal, hard-headed self, at +your disposal, Rajah." + +Nehal Singh nodded absently. + +"I believe what you say is true," he said. "A man who goes out into +the world and enters into her conflicts must have only one side--the +strong, hard, practical side; otherwise he can do nothing, neither for +himself nor others. The idea came to me already the other night after +I left you." + +"Indeed?" Travers murmured. "What made you think of that, Rajah?" + +Nehal gave a gesture which seemed to put the question to one side. + +"Something I heard--saw," he said. "It does not matter. It made me +hesitate. That is all." + +"Hesitate?" + +"To enter into the conflict. I felt for the moment that I was not +fit--that it would overwhelm me. I had made a picture of the world, a +picture which after all might not be the true one. I did not believe +that I could bear the reality." + +He bent his head wearily on his hand, and there followed an instant's +silence in which Travers thoughtfully studied his companion. He was +wondering what cross-current of influence had flowed into the stream +on which he meant to sweep the prince toward his purpose. Any idea of +relinquishing his plans had evaporated; the very suggestion of another +influence having been sufficient to put him on his mettle and call to +life the full energy of his headstrong ambition. He had the tact, +however, to remain silent, and to leave Nehal's train of thought +uninterrupted. And this required considerable patience and +self-control, for the Rajah seemed to forget his existence, and sat +staring vacantly in front of him, his head still resting on his hand. + +"Yes," he went on suddenly, but without changing his position, "that +is what I felt two nights ago. The practical, hard side of me seemed +lacking. I felt that I was a dreamer, like the rest of my unfortunate +race, and that to enter into battle with the world, as you suggested, +could only bring misfortune. I did not realize then that, at whatever +cost, it was my duty." + +"Duty?" + +"Yes. A dreamer has no right to his dreams, be they ever so beautiful, +unless he changes them into substance. In my dreams I have loved the +world and my fellow-creatures. But what does that avail me if I do +nothing for the suffering and sorrow with which the world is filled? I +must go out and help. I must put my whole wealth and strength to the +task, even if I lose thereby my peace. I must 'sell all that I have.' +Is not that the advice your Great Teacher gave to the young man +seeking to do his duty?" + +Travers started, and then smiled. + +"Is there anything you do not know or have not read, Rajah?" he said, +with an amused admiration. + +"I have read a great deal," was the earnest answer, "but it seems to +me as though I had known nothing until yesterday. Yesterday, in an +hour, a new world was revealed to me." He leaned forward, extending +his hand. "I ask you as a man of honor," he said, "before you show me +your plans, before I definitely engage myself in this great work, tell +me, do you believe that it will be for my people, what you say? Will +it lift them from their misery; will it make them prosperous and +happy?" + +Travers took the hand in his own. For a moment he studied it intently, +curiously, as though it had been the sole topic of their conversation. +Then his eyes met those of the Rajah with unflinching calm and +decision. + +"As far as I can be sure of anything, it will do for your country all +that I have said," he answered. And therein he was sincere--as +sincere, that is, as a man can be whose retreat is already secured. + +With a sigh of relief Nehal Singh drew the table closer. + +"Show me your plans," he said. + +For three uninterrupted hours the two men sat over the papers which +Travers had brought. Now and again he lifted his head and glanced +toward the doorway through which the strange apparition had +disappeared, half expecting to see once more the white extended hand, +half believing that he had been the victim of a delusion, a fantasy +born of the mysterious veil with which the whole palace seemed +shrouded. Then he glanced at the ring which sparkled on his own +finger, and he knew that it was no delusion, but that a corner of the +veil lay perhaps within his grasp. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE ROAD CLEAR + + +The English colony heard of the Rajah's project with mingled feelings +of amusement and anxiety. As Colonel Carmichael expressed it, it would +have been safer to have stirred up a hornet's nest than to attempt any +vital reform in the native quarters; and he was firmly convinced that +the inhabitants of the Bazaar would cling to their dirt and squalor +with the same tenacity with which they clung to their religion. When +the first batch of native workers, under the direction of a European +overseer, set out on the task of constructing new and sanitary +quarters half a mile outside Marut, he announced that it was no more +than the calm before the storm, and kept a weather eye open for +trouble. But, in spite of these gloomy prognostications, the work +proceeded calmly and steadily on its way. The new dwellings were well +constructed, broad, clean thoroughfares taking the place of the +narrow, dirty passages which had run like an unwholesome labyrinth +through the old Bazaar. Water in abundance was laid on from the river. +Natives of superior caste, who had proved their capacity for order, +were put in charge of the different blocks and made responsible for +their condition. Of more value than all this was the energy and +willingness with which the people entered into the project. More +workers offered themselves than were required, and could only be +comforted with the assurance that very soon a new enterprise would be +set on foot in which they, too, would find occupation. + +A month after the first stone had been laid, Stafford paid a visit of +inspection in company with the Rajah and Travers. On his way back be +passed the Carys' bungalow, and seeing Beatrice on the verandah, he +had ridden up, as he said, to make his salaams. Very little persuasion +tempted him into the cool, shady drawing-room. He knew that Lois would +be up at the club, and, _faute de mieux_, Beatrice's company was +something to be appreciated after a hot and exhausting afternoon. For +a rather curious friendship had sprung up between these two. They had +nothing in common. His stiffly honest and orthodox character was oil +to the water of her outspoken indifference to the usual codes and +morals of ordinary society. And yet he liked her, and, strangely +enough, he never found that her supercilious criticisms and daring +opinions jarred on him. Perhaps it was his honesty which recognized +the honesty in her, just as, on the reverse side, the sanctimonious +Philistinisms of Maud Berry left him glowing with irritation because +his instincts told him that they were not even sincere. + +On this particular afternoon he was more than usually glad to have a +few minutes' quiet chat with Beatrice. That which he had seen and +heard on his four hours' ride had stirred to life a sudden doubt in +himself and in his hitherto firmly rooted principles, and, like a +great many men, he felt that he could only regain a clear outlook by +an exchange of ideas with some second person. + +"You know my standpoint pretty well by now," he said, as, seated in a +comfortable lounge chair, he watched Beatrice busy over some patterns +which she had just received from London. "It isn't your standpoint, of +course, and no doubt you would be fully in your right to say, 'I told +you so,' when I confess that I am beginning to waver." + +"I never say, 'I told you so,'" she returned, smiling. "That is the +war-cry of those accustomed to few triumphs." + +"Not that by wavering I mean that I am coming round to your opinions," +he went on. "On the contrary, nothing on this earth will shake my +theory that a mingling of races is an impossibility. They must and +will, with few exceptions, remain separate to all eternity, and one or +the other must have the upper hand if there is to be any law or order. +No, it's not that. It's my self-satisfaction that is beginning to +waver." + +"You must be more explicit," Beatrice observed. + +"I mean, men like myself--in fact, most Englishmen--are pretty well +convinced, even when they have the rare tact of keeping it to +themselves, that they are the salt of the earth. They may be, as a +whole, but there are exceptions all round, which we are inclined to +overlook because of the foregone conclusion. It has struck me lately +that there are some of us--well, not up to the mark." + +"Has this revelation come to you by force of contrast?" she asked. +"Haven't you been out with the Rajah?" + +He looked at her with the pleasure of a man who has been saved the +bother of going into explanatory details. + +"Yes, I have," he admitted, "and you are not far wrong when you talk +about the force of contrast. You know what I thought of the Rajah. +There are any amount of good-looking native princes with nice surface +manners--that sort of thing wouldn't impress me. But this man has more +than good looks and manners. He is a born leader. You should have seen +him this afternoon. There wasn't a thing he overlooked or forgot. +Every detail was at his fingers' ends, and he has a fire, an energy, +an idealistic belief in himself and in the whole world which fairly +sweeps you off your feet. It did me. I believe it did the Colonel, and +I know it did the natives. The dust wasn't low enough for them. And it +wasn't face worship, either. It came straight from the heart; I could +see that they were ready to die for him on the spot, at his mere +word." + +"What a power!" Beatrice murmured. She had stopped turning over the +patterns and was leaning back in her chair, her eyes fixed +thoughtfully in front of her. + +"Yes, it is a power," he echoed emphatically, "and I wish to goodness +we had more men like him on our side. We English take things too +lightly--most of us. And in India it is not safe to take things +lightly." + +He saw that she was about to make some observation, but at that moment +Mrs. Cary entered. She had evidently been out in the garden, for she +had a bunch of freshly cut flowers in her hand and a girlish muslin +hat shaded the fat cheeks flushed with the unusual exertion. + +"Ah, there you are, Captain Stafford!" she said, extending her +disengaged hand. "Mr. Travers said he was sure you had dropped in, and +wouldn't believe it when I told him that I had heard and seen nothing +of you. There, come in, Mr. Travers. It's all right." + +She smiled at Stafford with a playful significance that seemed to +indicate an unspoken comprehension of the situation, but Stafford did +not smile back. Like a great many worthy and honest people, he was not +gifted with a sense of humor, and the ridiculous, especially if it +took a human form, was his abomination. Consequently he disliked Mrs. +Cary, though not for the reason which made her unpopular in other +quarters. + +Travers followed almost immediately on her invitation, like Stafford, +bearing the marks of a hard day's work on his unusually pale face. + +"I expect Stafford has told you what a time we've been having," he +said, in response to Beatrice's greeting. "It's no joke to have +aroused an energy like the Rajah's, and I can see myself worked to a +shadow. Please forgive my get-up, Miss Cary, but this isn't an +official call. I only wanted to fetch Stafford." + +"I'm afraid you can't," Mrs. Cary put in. "We have engaged the poor +exhausted man to tea, and you are strictly forbidden to worry him with +your tiresome business. You can stop, too, if you promise not to +bother." + +Travers, who had as a rule an equally amiable smile for every one, +remained unexpectedly serious. + +"I am awfully sorry," he said, hesitating. "Perhaps it would do +another time." + +"What is it about?" Stafford asked. "Will it take long?" + +"As far as I am concerned, only a few minutes." + +There was a significance in the tone of Travers' answer which passed +unnoticed. Stafford rose lazily to his feet. + +"Perhaps you'll give us the run of your garden for just so long, Mrs. +Cary?" he said. "I'm not going to let Travers cheat me out of my +promised cup of tea. Come on, my dear fellow. I'm ready for the +worst." + +The two men went down the verandah steps, and Mrs. Cary and her +daughter remained alone. Beatrice returned at once to her +contemplation of the fashion-plates, her attitude enforcing silence +upon the elder woman, who stood by the round polished table nervously +arranging the flowers. Evidently she had something to say, but for +once had not the courage to say it. At last, with one of those +determined gestures with which irresolute people strive to stiffen +their wavering wills, she pushed the flowers on one side, and came and +sat directly opposite Beatrice. + +"Have you got a few minutes to spare?" she asked. + +Beatrice looked up, and put the papers aside. + +"As many as you like." + +Mrs. Cary's eyes sank beneath the direct gaze, and she began to play +with the rings that adorned her fat fingers. + +"I'm afraid you'll be angry," she said. "If it wasn't for my duty as a +mother, I should let you go your own way--as it is, I must just risk +it." + +"There is no risk," Beatrice returned gravely. "Where duty is +concerned, I am all consideration." + +"It's about your intimacy with His Highness," Mrs. Cary went on. "I +can't help thinking it has gone too far." + +"In what way?" + +"You ride out with him every morning." + +"You said nothing a month ago--when I went out for the first time." + +"It was the first time. And I didn't know people would talk." + +"Do they talk?" + +"Yes. Mrs. Berry told me only this afternoon that she thought it most +_infra dig_. She told me as a friend--" + +Beatrice laughed. + +"Mrs. Berry as a friend is a new departure." + +"Never mind. There was something in what she said. She told me it +spoiled your chances--with others." + +"I dare say she told you that it is very immoral for me to ride out +with Captain Stafford?" + +Mrs. Cary threw up her head. + +"I don't take any notice of that sort of thing. That is only her +cattishness, because she wants Stafford for Maud." + +"You don't mind about Captain Stafford, then?" + +"Goodness, no! Why should I? A man wants to know a girl before--well, +before he asks her. I don't see anything in that. But this business +with the Rajah is quite different. Of course, I know you are only +amusing yourself, but still it lowers your value to be seen so much +with a colored man." + +"Why should you mind? Surely you can see for yourself that Captain +Stafford is to all intents and purposes engaged to Lois?" + +"Rubbish! She thinks so, but it's a lukewarm business which could +easily be brought to nothing--if you tried. And besides, I don't want +you talked about. We have been talked about quite enough." + +"Why should people talk?" exclaimed Beatrice, with a sudden change in +tone. "What harm do I do? What do they suppose goes on between us?" + +Mrs. Cary shrugged her shoulders. + +"I'm sure I don't know," she said indifferently. + +Beatrice sat back in her chair, for a moment silent. A faint smile +moved the corners of her fine mouth. + +"I fancy our conversation, if they heard it, would startle the +unbearable Marut scandal-mongers," she said. "What do you say to a +Bible-class on horseback?" + +Mrs. Cary's small round eyes opened wide. + +"A Bible-class?" she repeated suspiciously. + +Beatrice nodded. + +"Yes. I have been teaching him the rudiments of Christianity. It seems +you must have neglected my education in that respect, for I have had +to burn a good deal of midnight oil to keep pace with the demand upon +my knowledge. I tell him it as a story, and he reads it himself +afterward. We are halfway through St. John. What are you laughing at?" + +The tone of intense irritation pulled Mrs. Cary up short in the midst +of a loud fit of laughter. + +"I'm sorry, my dear," she apologized, "but you really must admit it's +rather funny." + +"What is rather funny?" + +"Oh, well, you, you know. Fancy you as a missionary! I must tell Mrs. +Berry. It will amuse her, and--" + +She stopped again, as though she had inadvertently trodden on the tail +of a scorpion. She had seen Beatrice angry, but not as now. There was +something not unlike desperation in the eyes that were suddenly turned +on her. + +"You won't tell Mrs. Berry, mother. You will never breathe a word to a +single soul of what I have told you. It was very absurd of me to say +anything--I don't know what made me. I might have known that you would +not understand--but sometimes I forget that 'mother' is not a synonym +for everything." + +Mrs. Cary smarted under what she felt to be an unjust and uncalled-for +attack. + +"I don't see what I have done now," she protested indignantly. "What +is there to understand that I haven't understood, pray?" + +Her daughter got up as though she could no longer bear to remain +still, and began to walk restlessly about the room. + +"Never mind," she said. "That doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is +that I will not have the Rajah made a butt for the Station's +witticisms. You can say what you like about me--I don't care in the +least--but you will leave him alone." + +"Dear me, what are you so annoyed about?" Mrs. Cary inquired, with +irritating solicitude. "How was I to know you were seriously +contemplating the Rajah's conversion? I'm sure it's very nice of you. +Child, don't pull all those roses to pieces!" + +Beatrice dropped the flowers impatiently. + +"It's more likely that he will convert me," she muttered, but the +remark fell on unheeding ears. + +"I wish you would let me tell Mrs. Berry about it," Mrs. Cary went on. +"It might make quite a nice impression, and stop her saying +disagreeable things. Of course, if your intimacy with His Highness was +due to your desire to bring him to a nice Christian state, it would be +quite excusable. I might even ask Mr. Berry for some of those tracts +he is always distributing among the natives." + +It was Beatrice's turn to laugh. Her laugh had a disagreeable ring. + +"For the Rajah? I wonder how he would reconcile them with all I have +been telling him about love, and pity, and tolerance? Besides, my dear +mother, diplomatist as you are, don't you see that it wouldn't have +the least effect? Do you think the most kindly thinking person in this +Station would believe for an instant that _I_ would ever convert +anyone? Of course I should be seen through at once. They would +say--and perfectly correctly, too--that I was just fooling the Rajah +for my own purposes." + +"What are your purposes?" Mrs. Cary demanded. + +Beatrice raised her eyebrows. + +"You knew them a month ago." + +"Oh, yes; then it was for Mr. Travers' sake. But now--" + +"Now things are the same as they were then. I--I can't leave off what +I have begun." + +She had gone over to the piano and, opening it, sat down and began to +play a few disjointed bars. Mrs. Cary, who watched the lovely face +with what is sometimes called a mother's pride, and which is sometimes +no more than the satisfaction of a merchant with salable goods, saw +something which made her sit bolt upright in her comfortable chair. A +tear rolled down the smooth cheek turned toward her--a single tear, +which splashed on the white hand resting on the keys. That was all, +but it was enough. With a jingle of gold bracelets and a rustle of +silk, Mrs. Cary struggled to her feet and came and stood by her +daughter, her heavy hand clasping her by the shoulder. + +"Beaty!" she said stupidly. "Are you--crying?" + +Beatrice turned on the music-stool and looked her mother calmly in the +face. There was not a trace of emotion in the clear, steady eyes. + +"I--crying?" she said. "What should have made you think that? Have you +ever seen me cry?" + +"No, never. I couldn't understand. You are all right?" + +"Perfectly all right, thank you. Hadn't you better see about the tea?" + +Mrs. Cary heaved a sigh of relief and satisfaction. + +"Of course. How thoughtful you can be, my dear! The gentlemen may be +back any moment." + +She sailed heavily across the room, on her way passing the glass doors +which opened on to the verandah. + +"Why!" she exclaimed, stopping short, "if that isn't Captain Stafford +mounting his horse! Look, Beaty! And he hasn't even come to say +good-by." + +Beatrice turned indifferently. + +"I expect he has some important business--" she began, and then, as +her eyes fell on the man outside swinging himself up into the saddle, +she stopped and rose abruptly to her feet. "I have never seen anyone +look like that before!" she said, under her breath. "He looks--awful." + +Mrs. Cary nodded. + +"As though he had seen a ghost," she supplemented unsteadily. "What +can have happened?" + +The horse's head was jerked around to the compound gates. Amidst a +clatter of hoofs and in a cloud of dust Stafford galloped out of +sight, not once turning to glance in their direction. The two women +stood and stared at each other, even Beatrice for the moment shaken +out of her usual self-control by what she had seen. They had no time +to make any further observations, for almost immediately Travers came +up the steps, his sun-helmet in his hand. Whatever had happened, he at +least seemed unmoved. The exceptional pallor of his face had given +place to the old healthy glow. + +"I have come to drink Stafford's share of the tea as well as my own," +he said cheerily. "You see, Mrs. Cary, in spite of your strict +injunctions, I have sent the poor fellow flying off on a fresh +business matter. He asked me to excuse him, as he was in a great +hurry." + +"So it seems!" Mrs. Cary observed, rather tartly. "He might at least +have stayed to say good-by." + +"Oh, well, you know what an impulsive creature he is," Travers +apologized. "Besides, I believe he means to drop in later on. Please +don't punish me, Mrs. Cary, for his delinquencies." + +The suggestion that Stafford might resume his interrupted visit later +mollified Mrs. Cary at once. + +"No, you shan't suffer," she assured him, with fat motherliness. "I +will go and tell the servants about tea at once." + +The minute she was out of the room Travers came over to Beatrice's +side. A slight change had taken place in his expression. It reminded +her involuntarily of that night in the dog-cart when for an instant +his passions had forced him to drop the mask. + +"You and I have every reason to congratulate each other," he said, in +a low voice. "We can now go ahead and win. The road is clear for us +both." + +"What do you mean--what have you done?" + +"Nothing," he answered, as Mrs. Cary reentered. "You will know in a +day or two. And then--well, the game will be in our hands, Miss Cary." + +Mrs. Cary, who had caught the last remark, looked quickly and +suspiciously from one to the other. + +"What's that you are talking about?" she demanded. "What game is in +your hands, Beaty?" + +Travers smiled frankly. + +"Miss Cary and I are working out a bridge problem," he explained. "We +have just discovered a solution to a difficulty. That's all." + +His smile deepened as he glanced across at Beatrice, but there was no +response on her grave face. She half turned away from him, and for the +first time he thought that the climate was telling on her. She looked +white and harassed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +IN WHICH MANY THINGS ARE BROKEN + + +"I can't think what is making Captain Stafford so late," Lois said to +Mrs. Carmichael, who was, as usual, knitting at some unrecognizable +garment destined for a far-off London slum. "I wonder if he has +forgotten that to-day is the tournament, and that he promised to fetch +me." + +"I hardly think he has forgotten the tournament," Travers remarked +carelessly. "He was speaking about it to Miss Cary this morning. I +expect he will be around soon--and if he fails, will I do instead?" + +He looked at her with such a pleasant frankness in his eyes that any +awkwardness she might have felt became impossible, and she could only +smile back at him, grateful for the unchanged friendship which he had +retained for her. + +"Of course you will do!" she said gaily. "But I must give him a few +minutes' grace. It has only just struck four o'clock." + +The Colonel looked around. He had come in five minutes before, hot and +tired from a long ride of inspection, and his family, knowing his +small peculiarities, had allowed him to get over his first exhaustion +undisturbed. + +"I shouldn't wait too long, little girl," he said, smiling kindly. "I +fancy Stafford is not at all up to the mark. I told him to take a day +off if he wanted it." + +"Why, when did you see him?" his wife asked. + +"This morning, of course, at parade. He struck me then as being rather +peculiar." + +"Ill?" Lois exclaimed with some alarm. She put her racquet on the +table and came and slipped her hand through the Colonel's arm. "You +don't think he is ill?" she asked earnestly. + +Colonel Carmichael shook his head. + +"No," he said, "not exactly ill." He laid his hand gently upon hers, +so that she could not draw it back. "Let us go outside and see if he +is coming," he went on. + +The old man--for sorrow and physical weakness had made him older than +his years--led the way on to the verandah, still holding Lois' hand in +his own. He could not have explained the indefinable force which drove +him out of his wife's presence. His ear shrank from her hard, +matter-of-fact voice and undisturbed optimism. She who had never had +any mood but the one energetic and untirable one, had no comprehension +for the changing shades of his temper--would, indeed, have rather +scorned the necessity of understanding them. She did not believe in +what she called "vapors," and when they ventured to cross her path she +swept them away again--or thought she did--with a none too sparing +brush. + +Unfortunately, there are some characters who can not overcome +depression, be it reasonable or unreasonable, simply because someone +else happens to be cheerful. The source of their melancholy lies too +deep, and the more hidden it is, the more inexplicable, the harder it +is to be overcome. It is as though a chord in their temperament is +linked to the future, and vibrates with painful presentiment before +that which is to come. Colonel Carmichael was one of these so-called +sensitive and moody people--quite unknown to himself. When the cloud +hung heavily over his head, he said it was his liver or the heat, and +took his cure in the form of solitude, thus escaping his wife's +pitiless condemnation. And on this afternoon, yielding to his +instinct, he sought to be alone with Lois. Lois never disturbed him or +jarred on his worn-out nerves. In spite of her energy and vigor, there +was a side of her nature which responded absolutely to his own, and +with her he could always be sure of a sympathetic silence, or, what +was still more, a gentle sadness which helped him more than any +overflow of strident high spirits. + +For some little time they stood together arm-in-arm, looking over the +garden. The excuse that they were watching for Stafford was no more +than an excuse, for from their position the road was completely hidden +by the high wall with which the whole compound was surrounded. Through +the foliage of the trees the outline of the old bungalow was faintly +visible, and thither their earnest contemplation was directed. For +both of them it was something more than a ruin, something more than a +relic out of the tragic past. It had become, above all for the +Colonel, a part of their lives, a piece of inanimate destiny to which +they felt themselves tied by all the bonds of possession. It was +theirs, and they in turn were possessed by the influence it exercised +over their lives. Their dear ones had died within its walls, and some +intuition, feeling blindly through the lightless passages of the +future, told them that its history was not yet ended. + +Colonel Carmichael bent down and looked into Lois' dark face. He had +grown to love her as his own child, and the desire to protect and +guard her from all misfortune was the one strong link that held him in +the world. Life as life had disappointed him, not because he had made +a failure out of it, but because success was not what he had supposed +it to be. It is very likely that his subsequent indifference to +existence, coupled with a far from robust constitution, would have +long since cut short his earthly career had it not been for Lois. She +held him fast. He flattered himself--as what loving soul does +not?--that he was necessary to her, that only his old hand could keep +her path clear from thorns and pitfalls. It was the last duty which +life had given him to perform, and he clung to it gratefully, never +realizing the pathetic truth--the saddest truth of all--that with all +our love, all our heartfelt devotion and self-sacrifice, we can no +more shield our dear ones from the hand of Fate than we can shield +ourselves, and that their salvation, if salvation there be for them, +can only come from their own strength. + +"What a grave face!" he said, with a lightness he was not feeling. +"Why so serious, dear? Has anything gone wrong?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, nothing whatever; on the contrary, I was thinking how grateful +for all my happiness I ought to feel--and do feel. Would you call me +an ungrateful, discontented person, Uncle?" + +"You? No! What makes you ask?" + +"I think I _am_ ungrateful, only you don't notice it, because I am not +more so than most, and perhaps less than a good many. Everybody has +flashes of self-revelation, don't you think, when one sees oneself and +the whole world in the true proportions and not as in every-day life. +I have just had such a revelation. I was feeling rather annoyed that +Captain Stafford should have forgotten the tournament and so make me +late; and then you said something about him--you spoke as though he +were ill--and the sickening thought flashed through my mind: suppose +you--or some one I loved--were taken from me--died? Then things +slipped into their right size. The petty woes and grievances which so +constantly irritate me became petty. I didn't care in the least about +the tennis--I thanked God for you and for your love." + +He saw that she was strangely moved. Her voice had a rough, dry sound +which he had not heard before, and her brows were knitted in a plucky +effort to keep back the tears that some inward pain had driven to her +eyes. + +"I didn't mean to frighten you, Lois," he said remorsefully. "How was +I to know that you were so easily alarmed?" + +She pressed his arm with warm affection. + +"There is nothing to be regretted," she said. "I ought to be glad that +a little thing can stir me--some people need catastrophe. If it had +not been for that sudden fear, I might have been bad-tempered and +spoiled the day for myself and every one." + +"And then you would have had to add it to the long list of days which +haunt us in later life," he added almost to himself, "--one of the +occasions for happiness which we have wilfully defaced. But there, I +think I hear some one coming. It is probably Stafford. Won't you run +and meet him?" + +She drew her hand quickly from his arm as though in answer to his +suggestion, then hesitated and shook her head. + +"I think I will wait here with you," she said, looking up at him. + +He nodded, and they stood side by side watching the pathway which led +around to the highroad beyond the compound. Colonel Carmichael was +smiling to himself. His wife's sure conviction that the hour of Lois' +union with Stafford was not far off had at last overcome his own +inexplicable doubts and objections, and he even considered the +possibility with a kind of satisfaction not unmingled with pain. "It +is well that she should have a good strong man to protect her," he +thought, conscious of age and growing infirmity. Then he looked down +at the happy face beside him and his smile lost all trace of +bitterness. "She loves him," was the concluding thought that flashed +through his mind as Stafford appeared around the corner. He meant to +say something in tender jest to her, but the words died on his lips +and he felt that the hand upon his arm had tightened. It was the only +sign which Lois made that a sudden change had come over her horizon. +She said nothing, but in the same moment that the Colonel's eyes +rested on her in half tender, half teasing query, she knew +instinctively that her happiness had shattered against a rock which, +hidden beneath a treacherously calm sea, had struck suddenly at the +very foundations of her world. + +Stafford was coming toward them slowly, his head bent. It was not his +face which, like a bitter frost, froze the overflow of her happy heart +to icy fear--for she could not see it. It was his attitude, his +movements, above all a terrible return of that presentiment which +already once that day had darkened her hopeful, cheery mood. Do what +she would, she could not move to meet him. She could only stand there, +clinging to her guardian's arm, the smile of welcome stiffening on her +pale lips. The Colonel was the first to speak. He held out his +disengaged hand with a frank movement of pleasure. + +"Glad to see you, Stafford," he said. "I was beginning to think the +fever had really got hold of you. What has caused the delay?" + +"Delay?" Stafford repeated dully, looking from one to the other. + +Travers, who had joined them a moment before, laughed with sincerity. + +"My good fellow--surely you have not forgotten?" he said. "You +promised to fetch Miss Caruthers for the tournament." + +"Ah, the tournament!" Stafford passed his hand quickly across his +forehead like a man who has been awakened roughly from a dream. "Of +course--the tournament. I am awfully sorry--" He turned to Lois with +a curious, awkward gesture. "--I'm afraid I can't come. I--I am not +very fit--in fact--" He hesitated and then stopped altogether, looking +past her with his brows knitted, his lips compressed as though in an +effort to keep back an exclamation of pain. + +"You look out of sorts," Travers agreed sympathetically. "Come and +take my chair. I'll look after Miss Caruthers--if she will let me." + +Lois shook her head. She was watching Stafford's ashy face and there +was a pity in her eyes which was deepening every instant to +tenderness. All suffering awoke in her an instant response, and this +man was dear to her--how dear she only realized now that the lines of +pain were on his forehead. + +"You are not to bother," she said gently, but with an unmistakable +decision. "I can manage quite well by myself. I shall start as soon as +I have given Captain Stafford a cup of tea. Sit down--it will do you +good." + +Stafford made an abrupt gesture of refusal. The movement was almost +violent, as though for an instant he had lost hold over himself. Then +he pulled himself together, looking her full and steadily in the face. + +"It is very good of you," he said, "but indeed I can not wait. I have +only come to break a piece of news to you. As--my best friends here, I +thought it only right that you should be told first." + +Travers rose with a mock alacrity. + +"Am I _de trop,_ or do I count among the 'best friends'?" he asked. + +Stafford nodded, but he did not meet the quizzical eyes which studied +his face. He was still looking at Lois. + +"Please remain," he said. "I wish you to know--and Miss Cary wishes +you to know also." + +"Miss Cary?" It was the Colonel's turn to speak. His veined hand +rested clenched on the verandah balustrade, and there was a sudden +sternness in his attitude and voice which filled the atmosphere with +an electric suspense. "What has Miss Cary to do with the matter?" + +"Everything. Miss Cary has consented to become my wife." + +[Illustration: "Miss Cary has consented to become my wife."] + +He was not looking at Lois now, but at the Colonel, and then afterward +at Travers. The latter had turned away and was gazing out over the +garden, his arms folded over his broad, powerful chest. His silence +was pointed, brutally significant. It threatened to force an +explanation which each present was ready to give his life to avoid. +The Colonel, Mrs. Carmichael, Stafford himself, each thought of Lois +in that brief silence, and each after his own character acted in +obedience to the instinctive desire to protect and uphold her. No one +looked at her. It was as though they were afraid to read a pitiful +self-betrayal on her young, mobile features, and with a fierce attempt +at composure the Colonel turned to Stafford. He meant to break the icy +threatening silence with the first commonplace which occurred to him, +and at the bottom of his heart he cursed Travers for his attitude of +unconcealed scorn. The next instant, the clumsy words which he had +gathered together in his rage and distress were checked by Lois +herself. She advanced to Stafford with outstretched hand, her face +grave but absolutely composed. + +"I congratulate you," she said. "I hope you will be very happy." + +That was all, but it sufficed to break the spell which held them +bound. The Colonel's commonplace passed unnoticed, and Mrs. Carmichael +murmured inaudibly. Only Travers remained silent, immovable. + +"Thank you," Stafford said. He had taken Lois' hand without hesitation +and the painful uneasiness which had at first marked his manner had +given place to a certain grave, decided dignity. "Thank you," he +repeated. "I hope we shall be happy. In the meantime, I must ask you +to keep our engagement private. My future wife wishes it for the +present--only you were to be told. So much I owed to you." + +"Yes, you owed us so much," the Colonel said, and there was a faint, +irrepressible irony in his tone. + +Stafford still held Lois' hand. He seemed to have forgotten that he +held it, and when she gently drew it away he started and a wave of +dark color mounted to his forehead. + +"I must go now," she said. "I shall be late for the tournament, and I +am to play with Captain Webb in the doubles. It would not be fair for +me to spoil everything. I--I am very glad and grateful that you told +us." + +Mrs. Carmichael gripped the arms of her chair. She saw more than her +husband saw, and there was something in that absolute self-possession +which frightened her. + +"Please go with Lois, Mr. Travers," she said sharply, recklessly. "I +do not want her to go that long way alone. I should worry the whole +evening." + +"May I, Miss Caruthers?" Travers had turned at last and was looking at +her. "You promised me that I might act as substitute. Do you +remember?" His tone was low, significant, full of a profound feeling +which he knew she would hear and understand. + +She took his extended arm and he felt that she clung to him for +support. + +"Thank you," she said under her breath. + +She went with him to the head of the verandah Steps, blindly obeying +his strong guidance. Then she saw the Colonel's face and suddenly she +laughed lightly, cheerfully, as though nothing in the world had +happened, and her eyes flashed with an unconquerable courage. + +"You are not to bother," she called back to him. "I shall play up and +win. I shall come back with all the prizes." + +He nodded. He understood and recognized the fighting spirit, and his +admiration kindled and mingled with a biting, cruel grief. He watched +her as she walked proudly erect at Travers' side, and his heart ached. +He understood what his wife had understood in the first moment and +what an hour before would have seemed impossible to them both; he +understood that they were helpless, that they could neither protect +nor comfort the brave young life which had been confided to their +care. Their love, great as it was, lay useless, and his last pride, +his last consolation was gone. He threw it to the wrecked lumber on +his life's road. He did not hear Stafford's farewell nor his wife's +icy response. He stood there with his hand clenched on the balustrade, +motionless and wordless, until the evening shadows had crept over the +silent garden. In that hour he knew himself to be an old and broken +man. + +Many miles away a dusty, haggard-faced rider urged his weary horse +over the great highroad. Danger lurked in every shadow, but he heeded +nothing--was scarcely conscious of what went on about him. He, too, +suffered, but no remorse mingled itself with his tight-lipped grief. +He had done the right and--according to his code and way of +thinking--the only merciful thing. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GREAT HEALER + + +"Yes, it's a fine building," Travers said, looking about him with an +expression of satisfaction. "The Rajah hasn't spared the paint in any +way. You see, it was all native work, so he killed two birds with one +stone--pleased us and gave the aborigines a job. He has gone quite mad +on reforms, poor fellow!" He laughed, not in the least contemptuously, +but with a faint pity. "And it's all your doing, Miss Beatrice," he +went on, turning to her with an elaborate bow. "You should be very +proud of your work." + +She looked him straight in the face. They were in the new ballroom of +the clubhouse which the Rajah of Marut had just opened. In the +adjacent tearoom she heard voices raised in gay discussion, but for +the moment they were quite alone. + +"You give me more credit in the matter than I deserve," she said. "Is +that generosity on your part, or--are you shirking your share of the +responsibility?" + +"I--shirk my share of the responsibility!" he exclaimed with a +good-tempered lifting of the eyebrows. "My dear lady, have you ever +known me to do such a thing?" + +She smiled rather sarcastically. + +"No, Mr. Travers, but I own that the idea does not seem to me wholly +impossible." + +"And even if you were right, why should I in this particular case +'shirk the responsibility,' as you put it? Surely it is not +responsibility we have incurred, but gratitude." + +She walked by his side over to the open windows which looked out on to +the as yet uncultivated and barren gardens. + +"The question is this," she said at last: "Does the superficial +gratitude of a crowd in any way compensate for the fact that, in order +to obtain it, a whole life's happiness has been incidentally +sacrificed?" + +"I know to whom you are alluding," he said, looking earnestly at her, +"although, as a matter of fact, the two things have nothing to do with +each other, except in your imagination. You mean Lois. Yes, of course +she has had a hard time. Who doesn't? But it's rubbish to talk of a +'life's happiness.' In the first place, there isn't such a thing +--nothing lasts so long as a lifetime, I assure you. In the second, +Lois has not sustained any real loss--not any which I can not make +good to her." + +"Do you imagine yourself so all-sufficient?" she asked. + +"I have confidence in my own powers," he admitted. "That is the first +condition of success. I believe that in a few hours I shall have Lois +on the road to recovery." + +"I do not in the least understand your methods," Beatrice said, "but +they have hitherto been so eminently successful that I suppose I ought +not to question them. I hope for the best. I really was rather sorry +for Lois--especially as she behaved so well." + +"Are you starting a conscience, Miss Beatrice?" Travers asked gaily. +"I rather suspect you. It would be such a typically feminine +proceeding." + +"There you are quite wrong," she answered, with a shade of annoyance +in her cool voice. "A conscience is an appendage which I discarded a +good many years ago as the luxury of respectability. As you know, and +as any woman at the Station would tell you, I am not respectable." + +"Whence this anxiety, then?" + +"It is purely a practical one. You talk of gratitude--do you really +think anyone is grateful to me for--this?" She waved her hand toward +the lofty, handsomely decorated room before her. "Why, I doubt if +anyone remembers that I had anything to do with it. But every one +suspects me of having bewitched Stafford into becoming a +deserter--thanks to Mrs. Carmichael's tongue--and every one feels a +just and holy indignation. I doubt whether they really care a rap +about poor Lois, and indeed I could accuse one or two of a certain +satisfaction; but the matter has given them a new whip with which to +beat us out of Marut." + +"But you will not be beaten out of Marut," Travers said, a smile +passing over his fresh face. "You have got a far too firm footing. The +woman who has bagged the finest catch in the Station has nothing more +to fear." + +"You mean Captain Stafford?" + +"I do." + +"Then, if you have no objection, we will leave that subject alone." + +"By all means, if you wish it," he agreed, somewhat taken aback. "But, +between friends, you know, one does not need to be so delicate." + +Her hands played idly with the handle of her silk parasol. + +"It is not a matter of delicacy," she said, "--at least, not +altogether. It would be rather silly to begin with that sort of thing +at my time of life, wouldn't it? But--you don't know for certain that +I shall marry Captain Stafford." + +"My dear lady! You have accepted him!" Travers exclaimed. + +She looked at him, her clear hazel eyes flashing with momentary fun. + +"It is very bad policy to rely upon what a woman says further back +than twenty-four hours," she warned him. + +For once he remained serious. + +"That may be true, but it is sometimes necessary to warn her that +first thoughts are best." + +"Now, what do you mean?" + +He folded his arms over his broad chest. + +"Miss Beatrice," he said, appearing to ignore her question, "do you +remember some time ago my telling you that we were like two partners +at a game of bridge?" + +"I remember very well." + +"Well, we are still partners, though the game is nearing its end. As a +rule I am for straight, aboveboard play, but there are moments when a +man is strongly tempted to cheat." + +"Haven't we cheated all through?" she inquired, with a one-sided +smile. + +"By no means. We have finessed, that's all. Just at present I feel +impelled to--well, give you a hint under the table." + +"Why?" + +"Miss Beatrice, more or less I stand in the position of a skilled and +rich player who has tempted a less wealthy partner into a doubtful +game. If my plans fail, I can look after myself; but I shouldn't like +to get you in a mess. If I give you a hint, will you keep counsel?" + +"I suppose I must." + +"Well, then, it's just this. Your mother has invested the greater part +of her money in the Marut Company. I did not want her to--I'll say +that for myself--but she has the speculating craze, and nothing would +stop her. Of course the mine will be an immense success--but if it +isn't, I should like to see you, as my partner, well out of reach of +the results." + +"Now I understand. Thank you." + +"As to the Rajah, I think you had better let him run before things go +too far. I'm afraid he has got one or two silly ideas in his head. You +had better make your engagement public." + +"Thank you." She looked perfectly calm and collected. The red had died +out of her cheeks and left them their pale rose, which not even the +hottest Indian sun had been able to wither. Still, her tone had +something in it which startled even the self-possessed Travers. + +"By Jove!" he began, "are you angry--?" + +She passed over the question before he had time to finish it. + +"I am going into the garden to look for my mother," she said. "The +band is just beginning. _Au revoir_." + +Travers watched her curiously and admiringly as she walked across the +parquetry flooring to the door. It requires a good deal of +self-possession and carriage to walk gracefully under the scrutiny of +critical eyes, and this self-possession and carriage were the final +clauses to Beatrice's claim to physical perfection. There was a +natural dignity in her bearing and an absolute balance in all her +movements which Travers had never seen before combined in one woman. +At first sight an observer called her pretty, and then, as one by one +the perfect details unfolded themselves to a closer criticism, +beautiful. He was never disappointed, and even the most carping and +envious of Marut's female contingent had failed to find her vulnerable +point. So they had turned with more success to her character, and +proceeded there with their work of destruction. Her beauty they left +unquestioned. + +Travers often asked himself--and asked himself especially on this +afternoon--why, apart from practical considerations, he had not fallen +in love with her instead of Lois. He liked beautiful women, as he +liked all beautiful things, and Lois had no real pretensions to +beauty. Was it, perhaps, as he had said, that her honesty and genuine +heart-goodness had drawn him to her? Of course he had pretended that +it was so. He knew that, in company with all true women, she was +susceptible to that form of flattery where other compliments merely +disgusted, and he had made good use of his knowledge. He had often +laughed to himself at the feminine craze for salvaging lost souls, but +he had never taken it seriously, not even with Lois. Was there any +truth in the assertions that he had made to her, more than he knew? +The idea amused him immensely, and also drew his attention back to his +previous conversation with Beatrice Cary. He shook his head +whimsically in the direction she had taken. + +"I don't care what you say," he thought, "you are getting a +conscience. Now, I wonder whom you caught it from? Not from me, I'll +be bound." + +He laughed out loud, and shaking himself up from his half-lounging +attitude against the window casement, he proceeded to follow in +Beatrice's footsteps. At the door he was met by three men--the Rajah, +Stafford, and a new-comer whom he did not recognize and for the moment +scarcely noticed. He had a quick and sympathetic intelligence, which +was trained to read straight through men's eyes into their minds, and +in an instant he had classed and compared, not without a pang of real +if very objective regret, the two familiar faces and their +expressions. Gloom and sunshine jostled each other. + +On the one hand, Nehal Singh had never looked better than he did then. +The old film of dreamy contemplation was gone from his eyes, which +flashed with energy and purpose; the face was thinner and in places +lined; the figure, always upright, had become more muscular. From a +merely handsome man he had developed into a striking personality, +released from the bonds of an enforced inactivity and an objectless +destiny. By just so much Stafford had altered for the worse. His +character was too strong and rigid to allow an absolute breakdown. He +still carried himself well; to all intents and purposes, as far as his +duty was concerned, he was as hard-working and conscientious as he had +ever been, but no strength of will had been able to hinder the change +in his face and expression. He looked years older. There was grey +mixed with the dark brown of his hair; the eyes were hollow and +lightless; the cheeks had painfully sunken in. A friend returning +after a two months' absence would have said that he had gone through a +sharp and very dangerous illness; but Marut, who knew that he had not +been ill, wondered exceedingly. + +They wondered all the more because, though nothing was known for +certain, they suspected a rupture in the relations between Stafford +and the Carmichael family, and Beatrice was recognized as the +undoubtable cause. Her engagement with Stafford had been kept secret, +but the Marut world had its ideas and was puzzled to distraction as to +why he seemed to shun her society and had become morose and taciturn. +"It is his conscience," said the busybodies, whose inexperience on the +subject of conscience excused the mistaken diagnosis. Travers knew +better. He felt no sort of regret, but he was rather sorry for +Stafford and sometimes Stafford felt his unspoken sympathy and shrank +from it. + +"We have been looking all over the place for you, Travers," he said, +after the first greeting had been exchanged. "Nicholson arrived here +last night, and he has already been on a tour of inspection. He wants +to know the man who has built the modern settlement." + +Travers turned to the new-comer and held out his hand. + +"Glad to meet you," he said cordially; "but please don't run off with +the idea that I have anything to do with the innovations. I am no more +than the artisan. The Rajah is the moving spirit." + +Nehal Singh's expression protested. + +"If money is the moving power, you may be right," he said; "but if, as I +think, the conception is everything, then the credit is wholly yours." + +"You have been the energizing spirit," Travers retorted. + +"Well, we will divide the honors. And, after all, it does not matter +in the least who has done it, so long as it is done." + +"Well spoken!" Adam Nicholson said. "If that's your principle, I'm not +surprised at the marvels you have brought about." + +Nehal Singh turned to the speaker. + +"You think the changes are for the good?" he asked eagerly. + +"Without a doubt. The new Bazaar is a model for Indian civilization." + +"And the mine?" + +"Excuse me--is that part of the reform? I understood that it was +merely a speculation." + +The prince's brows contracted with surprise. + +"It is part of the reform. I wish to give my people a settled +industry. There is no idea of--personal gain." + +"I see. Well, I don't know about that yet. I haven't looked into the +matter; I must to-morrow--that is, no, I won't. You know,"--with a +movement of good-tempered impatience--"I've been sent here on a +rest-cure, and I'm not to bother about anything. Please remind me now +and again. I always forget." + +Stafford smiled grimly. + +"You don't look as though you knew what rest is," he said. + +Travers, who stood a little on one side, felt there was some truth in +the criticism. During the brief conversation between Nehal Singh and +Nicholson he had had ample opportunity to study the two men and to +glean the esthetic pleasure which all beauty gave him. Both +represented the best type of their respective races, and, curiously +enough, this perfection seemed to obliterate the differences. Travers +could not help thinking, as he glanced from one to the other, that, +had it not been for the dress, it would have been difficult to decide +who was the native prince and who the officer. Nehal Singh's high +forehead and clean-cut features might have been those of a European, +and his complexion, if anything, was fairer than that of the sunburnt +man opposite him. It was doubtful, too, which of the two faces was the +more striking. Travers felt himself irresistibly drawn to the +new-comer. The bold, aquiline nose, the determined mouth under the +close-cut moustache, the broad forehead with the white line where the +military helmet had protected from the sun, the black hair prematurely +sprinkled with grey--these, together with the well-built figure, made +him seem worthy of the record of heroism and ability with which his +name was associated. + +"If you want a rest, your only hope is with the ladies," Travers said, +as he turned with Nicholson toward the garden. "They are the only +people who haven't got mines and industrial progress on the brain. Are +you prepared to be lionized, by the way? We are all so heartily sick +of one another that a new arrival is bound to be pursued to death." + +"I don't care so long as I get in some decent tennis and polo," +Nicholson answered cheerfully. "Not that I've starved in that respect. +I got my men up at the Fort into splendid form. We made our net and +racquets ourselves, and rolled out some sort of a court. It was +immense fun, though the racquets weren't all you might have wished, +and the court had a most disconcerting surface." He laughed heartily +at his recollections, and Travers laughed with him. + +"No wonder the men worshiped you," he said, and then saw that the +remark had been a mistake. + +"They didn't worship me," was the sharp answer. "That sort of thing is +all rubbish. They respected me, and I respected them--that's all." + +"It seems to me a good deal," Travers observed. + +"It is a good deal, in one sense," Nicholson returned. "It is the only +condition under which native and European can work in unity." + +Nehal Singh and Stafford were walking a little ahead, and Travers +thought he saw the Rajah hesitate as though about to join the +conversation. Almost immediately, however, Nicholson changed the +subject. + +"I've had no time to look up my old friends," he said to Travers. +"Perhaps you could tell me something about them. Colonel Carmichael +is, of course, still here. I had a few words with him this afternoon. +Do you know if that little girl, Lois Caruthers, is with him, or has +she gone back to England?" + +"No, she is still in Marut." + +"That's good. When I was a young lieutenant, she and I were great +pals. Of course she is grown-up now, but I always think of her as my +wild little comrade who led me into the most hairbreadth adventures." +He smiled to himself, and Travers, looking sharply at him, felt that +there was a wealth of memories behind the pleasant grey eyes. + +"Things change," he said sententiously. + +"Do they? Well, perhaps; though the change, I find, lies usually in +oneself, and I never change. Is she married?" + +"No--not yet." + +He saw that Nicholson was on the point of answering, asking another +question, and he went on hurriedly: + +"She is not here this afternoon. If you are anxious to meet her, how +would it be if I ran over to the Colonel's bungalow and persuaded her +to come? I dare say I could manage it." + +"Excellent, if you wouldn't mind. Or I might go myself. We shall have +any amount to say to each other." + +There was a scarcely noticeable pause before Travers answered: + +"I think it would be better if I went. I know a short cut, and could +get there and back with Miss Caruthers in half an hour. Would you mind +telling the Colonel what I have done?" + +"Certainly. In the meantime, I'll have a talk with the Rajah about +this mining business. He seems to have an exceptional individuality, +and--" + +"Remember the doctor!" Travers warned him. + +"Oh, yes, thanks! I forgot again. By the way, when you see Lois--Miss +Caruthers--tell her for me, the cathedral still lacks the chief spire, +but otherwise is getting on very nicely." + +"I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"No, but I dare say she will. Good-by." + +Travers borrowed a buggy from one of the other guests, and started +impetuously on his self-imposed errand. He had lied about the short +cut, and about the half-hour. He would have lied up to the hilt if it +had been required of him, because his instinct--that instinct which +had saved him untold times from blundering--warned him that danger was +at hand. It told him that it was now or never, and the realization +filled him with a reckless resolve which was ready to ride down all +principles and honor. He was still sufficiently master of himself to +hide the storm; it showed itself only in so far that, when he stood +before Lois, he seemed more moved and agitated than she had ever seen +him. She had just returned from a long and lonely ride, and was about +to retire to change her white habit, when he came upon her in the +entrance hall. Had he not found her himself, she would have refused to +see him, for she dreaded his message. She felt that he had come to +urge her attendance at the opening ceremony, and old fondness for +social pleasures of that kind had given place to dislike. It was the +only change that sorrow had wrought upon her character. Otherwise she +was the same as she had always been. For one week she had suffered +something like despair, and then the brave spirit in her despised +itself for its weakness, and set to work on the rebuilding of her life +on new foundations. To all appearances, she had succeeded admirably in +her task. There was no drooping hopelessness in her attitude toward +the world. And if beneath the surface there lay hidden the dangerous +flaw of purposelessness, no one knew--at least, so she believed. + +To her surprise, Travers made no mention of the subject she dreaded. +He took her hand in his, and led her into the shady drawing-room. She +made no attempt to protest, nor did she offer him any formal greeting. +She was oppressed and hypnotized by the conviction that a crisis was +about to break over her head which no power of hers could avert. He +did not let her hand go. He still held it between his own as they +stood opposite each other, and she felt that he was trembling. + +"Lois," he said, "Lois, don't think me mad. There are limits to a +man's endurance. I have held out so long that I can hold out no +longer. I have come because I must speak to you alone. Will you let +me?" + +She knew now what was coming, and she made a gentle effort to free +herself. + +"Mr. Travers, will you think me very conceited if I say that I know +what you have come to tell me?" she said, with an earnestness which +did not conceal her anxiety. "Will you forgive me if I ask you not to +tell me? It would be hard to have to spoil our friendship. It has been +a great deal to me." + +"Does that mean that you don't care?" + +"I did not say that. As proof that I do care I will give you my whole +confidence, I will be absolutely honest with you. Will you think me +very low-spirited if I tell you that a man still holds a place in my +life--a man who cares nothing for me? I ought to forget him--my pride +should make it possible, and yet I can not, and somehow I do not think +I ever shall." + +"Isn't that rather a hard punishment for him, Lois?" + +"For him?" + +"I, too, will be honest. I know whom you mean and I ask you--does +Stafford look a happy man? He looks like a man weighed down by a heavy +burden. I believe that burden is the knowledge that he has sinned +against you, that in his heedlessness, folly, what you will, he has +spoiled your life. Until he feels that you have regained your +happiness he will never be able to find his own." + +A spasm of pain passed over her face. + +"You mean--I stand in his way?" + +"I believe so. And I am sure of one thing--for your own sake as well +as for his, you must shake off your old affection for him, and how +better than through the cultivation of a new and stronger love? My +dear little girl, you couldn't pretend that all the happy hours we +have spent together count for nothing. You say my friendship has been +a great deal to you. What else is friendship but the sanest, most +lasting, and noblest part of love? What surer basis was ever the union +between a man and woman built upon? I know what you would say--it has +come too soon. You have only just pulled yourself up from a hard blow, +and you feel that you must have time to right yourself and all the +hopes that were bowled over with you. My dear, I understand that--God +knows, I understand too well--but have pity on me. Think how I have +waited, and how time has drifted on and on for me. Must I wait the +best years of my life? Won't you let me add the whole of my love to +time's cure for healing the old wound?" + +There was no pretense in his pleading, no pretense in the passion with +which his voice shook. And because it was genuine, it carried her +forward on the wave of powerful feeling toward his will. + +"I do care for you," she said, with a strong effort to appear calm. +"As a friend you are very dear to me, and you are no doubt right to +class friendship so highly. But I can not pretend that I love you. I +do not love you. And a woman should love the man she marries." + +He let her hands fall. + +"And so you are going to let your life remain empty, little woman?" + +"Empty?" she echoed. + +"Yes, empty. Will it prove the strength of my love for you if I tell +you that it has given me the power to look straight into your heart? +How many times have I read there the thought: 'Of what use is it all? +My life has no object, no end or aim. No one needs me now.' Lois, one +man needs you--needs you perhaps as much as he loves you. That man is +myself. If you say you have done nothing in the world, look into the +soul that I open out to you and to you alone. There is not a generous, +honest deed or thought which has not its origin in you. For your sake +I have beaten down the devil under my feet--I have tried to live as I +meant to live before the time when I, too, found that there was no +object in it all, that no one cared whether I was good or bad. This +much have you changed in me--it has been your unconscious work. Are +you going to leave the task which surely God has left for you to +accomplish?" + +He had touched the chord in her which could only give one response, +and he knew it. There lay the canker which made her energy and +cheerfulness a mere task to hide the real disease. Half unconsciously +she had loved Stafford and half unconsciously she had built her life +upon him. When he had been taken from her, the foundations had been +shaken, and she found herself crippled by a horrible sense of +emptiness and purposelessness. In England she would have flung herself +into some intellectual pursuit, as other women do who have suffered +heart shipwreck. But she was in India, and in India intellectual food +is scarce. Pleasure is the one serious occupation for the womenkind; +and though pleasure may be a good narcotic for some, for Lois it was +worse than useless. She needed one being for whom she could bring +sacrifices and endless patient devotion, and there was no one. Her two +guardians lived for her, and that was not what she hungered after with +all the thwarted energy of her soul. She wanted to work for somebody, +not to be worked for--and no one needed her, no one except this man. She +looked at him. She saw that her long silence was torture to him; she saw +that he was suffering genuinely, and her heart went out to him in pity. +Pity is a woman's invariable undoing. How many women--sometimes happy, +sometimes unhappy, according to the rulings of an inscrutable Fate--have +married, partly out of flattered vanity, but chiefly because they are +good-hearted, and labor under the mistaken conviction that a man's +happiness rests on their decision? And in this particular instance +Lois was honestly attached to Travers. She felt that to lose him would +be to lose a friend whom she could ill spare. Yet a blind instinct forced +her to a last resistance. + +"I do not love you," she repeated, almost desperately. + +"I do not ask for that now, because I know that it will come. I ask +you to be my lifelong friend and helper. Remember your promise, Lois! +Has not the time come when we need each other--when no one else is +left?" He took her hand again. He felt that she was won. + +"If you need me--I care for you enough to try and love you as my +husband." + +"Thank you, Lois!" + +His inborn tact and knowledge of the human character stood him again +in good stead. He made no violent demonstration of his triumph and +happiness, thus breaking roughly into a region which as yet for him +was dangerous ground. As he had done months before, when the road to +success had seemed blocked, he lifted her hand reverently and +gratefully to his lips. + +Thus it was that Captain Adam Nicholson waited patiently but in vain +for Travers' return with his old playfellow. As one by one the Rajah's +guests took their departure in order to prepare for the evening's +festivities, he gave up his last hope. + +"I suppose it was too late," he thought ruefully. "Or--she was so +young, and it's many years ago--maybe she has forgotten." + +It was not till long afterward that he knew how unconsciously his +first supposition had brushed past the truth. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FATE + + +Travers had correctly described the new Marut club-house as a fine +building on which the paint had been laid with a generous hand. The +original modest design had been rejected as unworthy, and Nehal Singh +had ordered the erection of a miniature copy of his own palace, the +ball-room being line for line a reproduction of the Great Hall, save +that the decorations, which in the palace were inimitable, had been +carried out with dignified simplicity, and that some necessary +modernization had been added. Gold and white predominated, where in +the original, precious stones glistened; the brackets for the torches +were transformed into small artistic lamps which had been ordered from +Madras; and from the ceiling a heavy chandelier added brilliancy to +the shaded light. The central floor had been left free for dancing, +but the slender pillars ranged on either side formed separate little +alcoves banked with flowers and plants. It was in one of these refuges +from the whirr and confusion of gay dresses and white uniforms that +Stafford took up his watch. He had arrived late, thanks to Travers, +who had detained him at his bungalow in a long and earnest +conversation. The two men had subsequently driven together to the +club, and had further been hindered on their way by a curious +accident. Just where the road passed an unprotected ravine, a native +had sprung out from some bushes and, having waved his arms wildly, +disappeared. The horse had immediately taken fright, and for a moment +the car and its occupants stood in danger of being flung headlong down +the precipice. Stafford's strength and nerve had saved the situation, +but the incident had effectually put an end to their conversation, and +now for the first time Stafford found himself alone and at liberty to +bring some order into his troubled thoughts. + +He was not, as Marut supposed, a conscience-stricken man, but a man +with a diseased conscience, his sense of duty and responsibility +developed to abnormities which left him no clear judgment. He had +broken with Lois because he loved her and because there seemed no +other way of shielding her from the most terrible blow that could fall +upon any human life--judging by the only standard he knew, which was +his own. He had asked Beatrice to be his wife because it cut the last +link and because he knew--Travers had told him--that the Station had +long since coupled their names together in a way that cast a deeper +shadow about Beatrice's reputation. + +"It's no one's fault, old fellow," Travers had said sympathetically. +"You meant no harm, but you were often with her, and that old fiend, +Mrs. Cary, has told every one that you 'were as good as--' And then +you know what the people are here. When they see that things are at an +end between you and Lois they will dig their knives deeper into Miss +Cary, without giving her the credit of having won her game. She is +fairly at every one's mercy here. I am sorry for Lois, but the other +is worse off, according to my lights." + +Stafford had said nothing. Goaded by Travers' words and blinded by the +catastrophe which had broken upon him, he had acted without thought, +without consideration, for the first time in his life obeying the +behests of a headlong impulse. He had asked Beatrice to be his wife, +and to-night was to put the final seal upon their alliance. Again it +was Travers who had spoken the decisive word. + +"A secret engagement is a piece of folly," he said, "and Miss Cary is +mad to wish it. For your sake as well as hers, everything must be +above-board. Or are you shirking?" + +Stafford had made a hot retort. It was not in the scope of his +character to turn back on a road which he had marked out for himself, +and he waited now for Beatrice with the unshaken resolution of a man +who believes absolutely in himself and his own code. He waited even +with a certain impatience. Shortly before he had seen her standing at +the Rajah's side, a fair and beautiful contrast to his eastern +splendor, and, somehow, in that moment, he had understood Travers' +warning as he had not understood it before. She was to be his wife, +she was to bear his name, and it was his duty to protect her if need +be from herself. He was about to leave the alcove to go in search of +her when she pushed aside the hangings and entered. The suddenness of +her appearance and something in her expression startled him. He did +not notice how radiantly beautiful she was nor the taste and richness +of her dress. He saw only that there was a curious look of pain and +fear in her eyes which warmed his friendship and aroused in him afresh +the desire to shield her from the malice of the eyes that watched +them. + +"Have I been a long time coming?" she asked, taking the chair he +offered her. "I am so sorry. The Rajah kept me." + +Her voice sounded breathless and there was a forced lightness in her +tone which did not escape him. He bent a little over her. + +"It does not matter," he said. "You look troubled. Is there anything +wrong?" + +She laughed. + +"Nothing." + +He hesitated, and then went on slowly: + +"There is one matter I want to speak to you about, Beatrice. It is the +matter of--our engagement. I think you are wrong to wish it kept +secret. I think it can only bring trouble and misunderstanding. Will +you not allow me to tell every one?" + +The white satin slipper stopped its regular tattoo on the rugged +floor. She lifted her face to his and looked him full in the eyes. + +"You think it was foolish and unreasonable to wish no one to know? But +I had my reasons--very good reasons. I wanted the retreat kept clear +for you." + +"Retreat--for me?" + +"Yes, for you. Captain Stafford, why did you ask me to be your wife?" + +He drew himself stiffly erect. + +"I told you at the time," he said sternly. "I was quite honest. I told +you that the best a man can bring the woman he marries is not in my +power to give you. It was--shipwrecked some time ago." + +"Not so very long ago," she corrected. + +"That does not matter. The point is that I believe it in my power to +make you happy--at any rate, it would always be my ambition to see you +so; and therein I should no doubt regain a great deal that I have +lost--" + +"But you do not love me, Captain Stafford?" + +"I have just said that I have lost the power of loving." + +For a moment she was silent, her jeweled hands resting wearily on the +arms of her chair, her eyes sunk to the ground. + +"You made me an honorable proposal, Captain Stafford," she said at +last. "You are an honorable man and inspire me with the desire to be +honorable also. Won't you take back your freedom while there is yet +time?" + +"No." + +"There are others--good women among whom you would find one who would +love you as you deserve. I do not love you. All I can bring is a +certain respect and friendship--that is all." + +"I am grateful for so much," he said. He was thinking of Lois, and his +voice sounded hard and compressed. + +"If I marry you it will be because I must." + +He nodded. + +"Yes, I am aware of that." + +"Aware of that?" she said, looking up into his haggard face. "How +should you be 'aware of that?' Is my private life so public then?" + +"You misunderstand me," he said, striving to cover up what he felt to +have been a wanton piece of brutality. "I only mean, you must for the +same reason that I must--because circumstances have linked us +inseparably together, and because--" + +He broke off. The tall figure of the Rajah had passed the alcove and +he had seen Beatrice sink back in her chair. As the figure moved on +she broke into one of her harsh, jarring laughs. + +"Good heavens, Captain Stafford," she exclaimed, "your arguments +haven't a leg to stand on! What are you marrying me for?" + +"I have tried to explain," he said, swinging himself clumsily up to +the great lie of his life--"because I need you--and I hope you will +come to need me." + +"You mean I _do_ need you? Well, perhaps I do!" She sprang to her feet +and held out her hand to him. "There! I seal the bargain. I warned you +but you would not be warned. _Vogue la galere!_ Tell the whole +world--it is better so." + +He took the small firm hand and pressed it. At the same moment he saw +the Rajah approaching for a second time. + +"I will leave you now," he said in a low, earnest whisper. "I fancy +the Rajah wishes to speak with you. It would be a good opportunity to +tell him that we are engaged." + +She drew back her hand hastily. + +"Yes--of course I shall tell him." + +Stafford bowed ceremoniously, making way for Nehal Singh. As he did +so, he saw Lois enter the hall at Mrs. Carmichael's side. The two +women bowed to him, the elder in a way which he had learned to +understand. He drew aside out of their path, avoiding the genuine +kindness which Lois' eyes expressed for him. + +"Pray God you believe the worst of me!" was the thought that flashed +through his mind. "Pray God I have taught you to forget!" + +Nehal Singh had meanwhile taken Stafford's place at Beatrice's side. +As he had entered the alcove she had made an effort to pass out, but +her eyes had met his, and the look in them had held her rooted to the +ground. The color died and deepened by turns in her cheeks, and the +hand that clasped the ivory fan shook as it had never shaken before in +the course of a life full of risks and dangers. But then no man had +ever looked at her as this man did. She had outstared insolence and +snubbed sentimentality. She had never had to face such an honest, +pure-hearted worship as this young prince brought and laid silently at +her feet. No need for him to tell her that she embodied every virtue +and every perfection of which human nature is capable. She knew it, +and the knowledge broke the very backbone of her daring and stirred to +life in her sickened soul emotions which she could scarcely recognize +as her own. + +He stood quite close to her, but he did not touch her. In all their +acquaintance he had never, except when he had taken her hand in +farewell, made any attempt to draw nearer to her than the strictest +etiquette allowed. Other men--men whom she hardly knew--had taken the +opportunity which a ride or drive offered to kiss her, and had been +offended and surprised at her contemptuous rebuff. (What girl in Marut +objected to being kissed?) This man had treated her as though she were +holy, an object to be respected and protected, not to be handled as a +common plaything; and her heart had gone out to him in gratitude and +admiration. But tonight his very respect was painful to her. For a +moment she would have given the best years of her life to know that he +despised her and that all was over between them; and then came the +revulsion, the wild longing to hold him to her as though his trust in +her were her one salvation. + +"Lakshmi!" he said, in a voice broken with feeling. "Lakshmi, you are +the most perfect woman God ever sent to earth. Every hour I grow to +know you better I feel how pale and empty of all true beauty my life +was until you came. How can I thank you for all you have given me?" + +"Hush!" she said. "You must not talk to me like that. You must not." + +"Why should I not tell you what is true?" + +"Because--oh, don't you see?"--she gave a short, unsteady laugh--"we +English don't tell people everything that is true. A man does not say +that sort of thing to a woman--" + +"To one woman!" he said. + +"Yes, to one woman, perhaps. But I--I--" She hesitated, the truth +struggling feebly to her lips. She felt herself turn sick and faint as +she looked into his earnest face. She knew what answer he had ready +for her, and though it would have brought the end for which she was +praying, she sought with all her strength to keep it back. All the +brutality in her character, her indifference to the feelings and +opinions of others, failed. She dreaded the change that would come +into his eyes; she did not believe that she could bear it. Tomorrow +would be time enough. But was it any longer in her power to determine +when it would be time enough? There was an expression in Nehal Singh's +face which told her that he had already decided, and that the reins +had suddenly slipped from her hands into his. + +"Rajah--" she began, wildly seeking for some inspiration which would +give her back control over herself and him. But the triviality died on +her lips as the truth had died. A shrill cry broke above the dying +waltz, and the Rajah and Beatrice, startled by its piercing appeal, +turned from each other and confronted a catastrophe which +overshadowed, and for the moment obliterated, their own threatening +fate. + +The dancers had already retired to the sitting-out alcoves. Only one +figure occupied the floor, and that figure was Stafford's. He was +crossing the room and had reached the center when the cry had been +uttered. The amazed and startled watchers saw Lois rush toward him and +with an incredible strength and rapidity thrust him to one side. A +second later--it scarcely seemed a second--the immense golden +chandelier crashed with a sound like thunder on to the very spot where +he had been standing. A moment's uproar and horrified confusion +ensued. The place, plunged in a half-darkness, seemed filled with dust +and flying fragments, and people hurrying backward and forward, +scarcely knowing what had happened or what had been the extent of the +accident. Stafford's voice was the first to bring reassurance to the +startled crowd. + +"It's all right!" he shouted. "We are both safe, thank God!" + +They saw that he was deadly pale, though otherwise calm and collected. +In the first moment of alarm he had instinctively caught Lois in his +arms, as though to shield her from some fresh danger, but immediately +afterward he had let her go, and she stood apart amidst the debris of +the wrecked chandelier, trembling slightly, but firmly refusing all +assistance. + +"I owe my life to you," Stafford said to her, with awkward gratitude. + +"You do not need to thank me," she answered at once. "I did what any +one else would have done in my place. I saw it coming." + +"How did it happen?" The question came from Nehal Singh, who had +forced his way to her side. "I can not understand how such an accident +was possible." + +There was an anxiety in his manner which seemed to increase during +Lois' brief hesitation. + +"I hardly like to say," she said at last, in a troubled voice. "I +could not believe my eyes, and even now it seems like a dream. Or a +shadow might have deceived me. I don't know--" + +"Please tell me what you saw, or thought you saw!" the Rajah begged +earnestly. + +"I seemed to see the chandelier being lowered," she said, with an +irrepressible shudder, "and then from a dark hole in the ceiling a +hand appeared--a black hand with a knife--" + +One of the women moaned, and there was afterward a silence in which a +wave of formless fear surged over the closed circle. The men exchanged +questioning glances, to which no one had an answer. + +"That's just the way," Beatrice heard some one behind her say. "We +dance on the crust of a volcano or under a threatening avalanche. +Sooner or later the one gives way or the other falls. There is no real +safety from these devils." + +Meanwhile Nehal Singh had approached the wreckage and was examining +the crown, to which a piece of gilded rope and chain were still +attached. One or two of the men were engaged in stamping out the +candles, which still sputtered feebly on the floor. The rest stood +about uncomfortably, hypnotized by an indefinable alarm. + +"I fear you did not dream, Miss Caruthers," the Rajah said at last. +"The rope has been cut--the chain unlinked. Some wicked harm was +intended to us all." + +"Not to us all," Stafford observed coolly. "I think you will admit, +Rajah, that whoever the murderer was, he would have chosen a more +advantageous moment if he had intended general damage. My life was the +one aimed at, and I am all the more convinced that I am right, because +this is the third time within twenty-four hours that I have escaped by +a miracle from accidents which were not accidental." + +The Rajah started sharply around. + +"How?--what do you mean?" he demanded. + +"Yesterday my boat on the river was plugged. To-day a native tried to +frighten my horse over the ravine. This"--pointing to the +chandelier--"is the third attempt." + +"Do you know of any one who could have a grudge against you?" + +"No." + +"Or against--your family?" + +There was a slight hesitation in Stafford's manner. He frowned as a +man does who has been pressed with an unpleasant question. + +"That is more possible," he admitted. + +Nehal Singh made no further remark. He stood staring straight ahead +into the half-darkness, and every eye in that uneasy assembly fixed +itself on his face, as though striving to read from his expression the +conclusion to which his mind was groping. For his exclamation after +Stafford's first announcement had betrayed that a sudden suspicion had +flashed before him, and they waited for him to take them into his +confidence. But they waited in vain. He seemed to have forgotten their +existence, and the silence grew tense and painful. All at once, Mrs. +Berry, who was clinging to her husband's arm, uttered a scream, which +acted like a shock of electricity on the overstrained nerves of those +who stood about her. + +"Look! Look!" she cried. "Miss Caruthers is on fire! Oh, help! Help!" + +She turned and rushed like a frightened sheep to the back of the hall, +crying incoherent warnings to those who tried to bar her headlong +flight. It was a catastrophe upon catastrophe. How it happened no one +knew--possibly some half-extinct candle had done the work. In an +instant Lois' white silk dress had become a sheet of flame which +mounted with furious rapidity to her horror-stricken face. In such +disasters it is only the question of a fraction of a second as to who +recovers his wits first. Almost on the top of Mrs. Berry's heedless +scream Beatrice had sprung toward the doomed girl--with what intention +she hardly knew--but before she was in reach of danger Adam Nicholson +thrust her to one side and, folding Lois in his arms, flung her to the +ground. + +"A rug--a shawl--anything!" he shouted. + +Mrs. Carmichael tore the long wrap from her shoulders, and a dozen +willing hands lent what assistance first occurred to them. But +Nicholson fought his enemy alone. + +"Stand back!" he commanded. "Stand back!" + +They obeyed him instinctively, and stood helpless, watching the short, +desperate struggle between life and death. Scarcely a moment elapsed +before the flames died down--one last tight drawing together of Mrs. +Carmichael's wrap, and they were extinct. Nicholson stumbled to his +feet, the frail, unconscious burden in his arms. + +"Please make way," he said. "I do not think she is badly hurt, but she +must be taken home at once. Stafford, go and see if the carriage is +there." + +His own face was singed, and one of his hands badly burnt, but he did +not seem to notice his own injuries. Colonel Carmichael, who had +entered the hall with him at the moment of the accident, helped to +clear the road. His features in the half-light were grey with the fear +of those last few moments. + +"You have saved our little girl!" he said brokenly to Nicholson. "You +have saved her life. God bless you for it, Adam!" + +"That's all right," was the cheerful answer. "You know, Colonel, Lois +and I were always helping each other out of scrapes, and I expect it +was my turn." He looked down at the pale face against his shoulder, +and there was an unconscious tenderness in his expression which +touched the shaken old man's heart. + +"She will be glad to hear it was you, Adam," he said. "You were always +her favorite." + +They had reached the great doors, which the Rajah himself had flung +wide open, when Travers sprang up the steps to meet them. He was +dishevelled, breathless, and exhausted as though with hard running, +and his eyes, as they flashed from one to the other of the little +procession, were those of a madman. + +"What has happened?" he demanded frantically. "I was outside with +Webb. What has happened?--Oh!" He caught sight of Lois in Nicholson's +arms, and his cry was high and hysterical, like a frightened woman's. + +Stafford seized him by the shoulder and dragged him back into the now +empty hall. + +"Control yourself!" he said roughly. "Don't behave like a fool. She is +all right, but they won't want you interfering, especially if you +can't keep your head." + +"They won't want me!" Travers exclaimed, staring at him. He then broke +into a discordant laugh. "Why, my good Stafford, they'll have to have +me, whether they want me or no. Lois is mine--mine, I tell you; and +that fellow, Nicholson, had better look to himself--" + +"You are beside yourself, Travers. Nicholson saved her life. What do +you mean by saying she is yours?" + +"She is to be my wife. Who can have more right to her than I have?" + +The two men stared at each other through the semi-darkness. One by one +the lights at the side of the hall were extinguished by the +softly-moving servants. The hushed voices of the departing guests died +away in the distance. + +"Your wife!" Stafford repeated slowly. "Since when is that, Travers?" + +"Since this afternoon. Let me pass!" + +Stafford made no effort to detain him. He stood on one side, and +Travers hurried down the steps. A minute later he was driving his trap +down the avenue at a pace which boded danger for himself and for any +who dared to cross his path. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FALSE LIGHT + + +The way to the new Bazaar lay to the right of the mine through a +forest clearing, and was one of Marut's most beautiful roads. Of late, +increased traffic had held the English pleasure-seekers from their +once favorite haunt, and in this early evening hour the bullock wagons +had not as yet begun their journeyings to and from the residential +quarter to the Bazaar, and the road was pleasantly quiet and peaceful. +Hitherto Beatrice had kept her thoroughbred at a constant and +exhausting canter, but here, against her resolution, she pulled up to +a walk and let the cool scented air from the pines blow gently and +caressingly against her hot cheeks. + +"This is one of the moments which Fate herself can not take from us," +she said to her companion. "It is perhaps a very brief moment, but it +is unclouded. We are just glad and happy to be alive in such a lovely +world, and all the outward circumstances which make our lot hard and +bitter are forgotten. Great and little worries are put on one side, +and we can feel like children to whom the past and future is nothing +and the present everything." + +"I know what you mean," Nehal Singh answered, "and the hours spent +with you are always those which no one can ever take from me." + +She bent over her horse and stroked the glossy coat with her gloved +hand. Then she remembered that she would never ride him again, and the +thought pained her. It was _his_ horse, and this was their last ride +together, though he did not know it. She was going to tell the +truth--or something like the truth--now. No, not now--later on, when +they turned homeward. Then she would tell him, and it would be well +over. But there was no hurry. All that was still in the future. The +moment was hers--a happy moment full of unalloyed charm such as she +had never known in her barren, profitless life. She was not going to +throw it away unless he forced her, and hitherto he had made no +attempt to lead the conversation out of the usual channels. + +It was the first time that they were alone together since the eventful +evening at the club, and in the intervening week enough had happened +to give them food for intercourse. By mutual consent, the accident of +the chandelier was not touched upon. Nehal Singh, though promising to +investigate the matter thoroughly, had shown a distress out of +proportion to his responsibility, and it was understood that for some +reason or another, the subject was painful to him. On the other hand, +he had shown a lively and warm-hearted interest in Lois' recovery. She +had sustained little more than a severe shock, and he had been +constant in his attentions, as though striving to atone for an injury +he had unwittingly done her. The accident had also served to deepen +his interest in Adam Nicholson. + +"That is a man!" he had said to Beatrice, as they had spoken of his +presence of mind, and his enthusiasm had rung like a last echo of his +old boyishness. "I can not understand why Travers seems to dislike him +so." + +Beatrice had made no reply. She had her own ideas on the matter, +having a quick eye for expressions, and she knew that the news of +Lois' engagement had been a shock both to Nicholson and to the +Carmichaels. Travers was one of those men whom the world receives with +open arms in society, but repudiates at the entrance to the family +circle; and of this fact Travers himself was bitterly conscious. And, +on the other hand, there was Nicholson, the accepted and cherished +friend, to whom the world looked with unreserved respect and deserved +admiration. It was not altogether surprising that the two men had +little in common, and on Travers' side there was added a certain +amount of satisfied spite. His instinct told him that he had won Lois +at the critical moment, and that another twenty-four hours would have +seen her safe under the reawakening influence of an old, only +half-forgotten friendship; and Nicholson, too, felt dimly that a +cunning and none too scrupulous hand had shattered a secret hope that +he had cherished from his first year in India. Altogether, there was a +stiffness between them which the world was quick to recognize without +understanding. But Beatrice had made her observations, and, as it has +been said, had come to a definite conclusion. Her interest in Lois was +now thoroughly aroused, and the vision of a dark, suffering little +face against a white pillow recurred to her as she walked her horse +beside Nehal Singh's. As they passed out of the wood, her companion +lifted his whip and pointed in front of them. + +"Look!" he said. + +She raised her hand to the rim of her helmet, shading her eyes from +the dazzling sun, and gazed in the direction which he indicated. + +"Why!" she exclaimed, smiling, "a model world, Rajah!" + +"Yes," he answered, "that is what I have tried to make it. I do not +think plague or disease will ever find firm foothold here, and one day +my people will learn to do for themselves what I do for them. They are +as yet no more than children who have to be taught what is good and +bad. There is the chief overseer." + +A respectable looking Hindu, who stood at the door of his hut, +salaamed profoundly. It was as though he had given some secret signal, +for in an instant the broad street was alive with dark, scantily clad +figures, who bowed themselves to the dust and raised cries of welcome +as the Rajah and his companion picked their way among them. It was a +picturesque scene, not without its pathos; for their joy was sincere +and their respect heartfelt. Beatrice glanced at Nehal Singh. A flush +had crept up under his dark skin, and his eyes shone with suppressed +enthusiasm. + +"Is their homage so precious to you?" she asked. + +"It is a sign that I have power over them," he answered, "and that is +precious to me. Without power I could not do anything. They believe +that I am God-sent, and so they obey blindly. Otherwise, these changes +would have been impossible." He paused, smiling to himself; then, with +a new amusement in his dark eyes, he looked at Beatrice. "My people +are not fond of an over-abundance of clothing," he observed. "Do you +consider a change in that respect essential?" + +Beatrice stared at him, and then, seeing that he was laughing, she +laughed with him. + +"Certainly not! If the poor wretches knew what we poor Europeans have +to suffer with our artificial over-abundance, their obedience would +stop short at such a request. What made you think of such a thing?" + +"It was Mr. Berry who spoke to me about it. He said I ought to insist +on them having what he called decent attire. It seems he had been +using his influence in vain, and was very unhappy about it. He said as +much that--that trousers were the first and most necessary step toward +salvation." He looked quickly at her to see if she was offended at his +outspokenness, but she only laughed. + +"Poor Mr. Berry is a Philistine," she said. "He can't help thinking +absurdities of that sort." + +"Would you mind telling me what you mean by a Philistine?" he asked. + +"A Philistine is a person who sees everything in its wrong +proportions," she answered. "He mistakes the essential for the +unessential, and _vice versa._ He can never recognize the beauty in +art or nature, because he can never get any further than the +unpleasant details. One might call him a mental earth-worm who has +only the smallest possible outlook. Mr. Berry, for instance, has +never, I feel sure, felt the charm of India and its people. He is +always too overpowered by the fact that the clothing is too scanty for +his idea of decency. You must not take him as an example of European +taste, although you will find only too many like him." + +"I am glad to have your reassurance," Nehal Singh replied. "Mr. Berry +angered me, and I can well understand that he has no influence among +my people. They are very innocent in their way, and they can not +understand where the wickedness lies. Nor do I wish them to +understand. It does not seem to me necessary." His mouth settled in a +new and rather stern line. "I shall order Mr. Berry to leave them in +peace." + +She smiled at this little outburst of autocracy. + +"You do not wish your people to become Christians?" she asked. + +"I shall not interfere in their religion," was the quick answer--"or, +at any rate, I shall force nothing. If my people believe truly and +earnestly in their gods, I shall not destroy their belief, for then +they will believe in nothing. And the belief is everything. As for +me"--his voice sank and grew suddenly gentler--"I am different. I have +been led by a light which I must follow." + +After a moment's thoughtful silence he changed the subject and began +pointing out to her the improvements he had brought about in the +native dwellings. Even Beatrice, who had seen little of the old +conditions, felt that the change was almost incredible. A +conservative, indolent and superstitious people had within a few +months been transferred from loathsome dirt and squalor into a "model +village" such as an English workman might have envied. Nehal Singh +showed her the houses at the end of the Bazaar which belonged to the +chief men, or those responsible to him for the cleanliness and order +of the community. Small, prettily planted gardens separated one low +dwelling from the other, and each bore its stamp of individuality, as +though the owner had tried by some new and quaint device to outdo his +neighbor. + +"Of course," Nehal Singh explained to her, as they turned homeward, +"there are men with whom nothing can be done. They have spent their +lives as beggars, and can not work now even if they would. For such I +have made provision, although they, too, have been given small tasks +to keep them from appearing beggars. But they are the last of their +kind. There shall in future be no idlers in Marut. From thenceforward +every man shall work honestly and faithfully for his daily bread, and +I will see that he has no need to starve. The mine will employ the +strongest, and then, later, Travers and I intend to revive the various +industries suited to the people's taste and talent." + +"You have already done a great deal," she said, moved to real +admiration. "I tremble to think what it has cost you." As she spoke, +the hidden irony in her casually spoken words came home to her, and +she felt the old fear clutch at her heart. + +"I have given the best I have--myself," he answered gravely. "Of +material wealth I have only retained what is beautiful; for beauty +must not be sold to be given as bread among the poor. That would be a +crime--as though one would sell Heaven for earth. Travers wished me to +sell the old jeweled statues and relics, but I would not. They belong +to my people, and one day, when they have learned to see and +understand, they will thank me that I have kept the splendors intact +for them." + +"You are wise," she said thoughtfully--"wiser than Travers and many +others." + +"In my first enthusiasm, I meant to sell everything, and live as the +poorest of them all," he went on; "but I soon saw that that was wrong. +The man into whose hands wealth is given has a great task set him. He +has a power denied to others. He can collect and preserve all that is +beautiful in art and nature--not for himself, but for those who +otherwise would never see anything but what is poor and squalid and +commonplace. True, he must also strive to alleviate the sufferings of +their bodies, so that their minds may be free to enjoy; but he must +not sacrifice the higher for the lower task--that would surely be the +work of what you call a Philistine. And his higher task is to feed +their souls with all that is lovely and stainless. Has not the Master +said, 'A man shall not live by bread alone'? Is it not true? And +again, I have read: 'What profiteth it a man if he gain the whole +world and lose his own soul?' And is not the man who sits, fed and +clothed, in a low, flat, level world of mud-huts in danger, of +forgetting that there were ever such wonders as the minarets of a +high, Heaven-aspiring temple? Will he not grow to think that there is +nothing more beautiful than a mud-hut, nothing more to be desired than +his daily bread? I have thought of all this, and I have preserved my +palace and everything that it contains. I have preserved it for my +people. It shall be for them a goal and encouragement, a voice +speaking to them day by day from the high towers: 'See what the hands +of thy fathers have created! Thou people in the low dwellings, arise +and do greater things still, for the great and beautiful is nearest +God'!" + +He stopped abruptly, shaken by his own passionate enthusiasm. His fine +head raised, his eyes flashing, his hand extended, he could have stood +for the statue of some inspired prophet. + +"You are a modern Buddha," she said, smiling faintly. Inwardly she was +comparing him to Mr. Berry--Mr. Berry, whose highest ideal in life was +to bring everything down to a nice, shabby, orthodox level. + +Nehal Singh's hand dropped to his side and he looked at her earnestly. + +"That is what they say," he answered. "My people say that I am the +tenth Avatar. But I am not. I am only a man--scarcely so much. A few +months ago I was no more than a beggar in the Bazaar, an idler and a +dreamer. If I have thrown aside my false dreams and come out as an +untried worker into the light of truth, it is because I have been led +by God--through you." + +Every trace of color fled from her face, and the clear eyes which met +his from beneath the broad helmet distended as though at some sudden +shock. In the course of their earnest but impersonal conversation she +had almost forgotten what was to come. This was the end of the ride, +this was the to-morrow, the inevitable to-morrow of those who +procrastinate with the inevitable. + +"I--I have done nothing," she said, striving to hush down the rising +tide of suffocating emotion. + +"Yes, it is nothing. I know it is nothing, but it may still become +something," he answered. "Or is it not already something? Is it not +something that you have led me to the feet of the Great Teacher? Is it +not something that I am awake and standing on the threshold of a new +Earth and Heaven, as yet blinded by the light, but with every day +gaining courage and strength to go forward? Do not say that this is +nothing--you to whom I owe all that I am and ever shall be!" + +She threw back her fair head. Now was the time to call to her aid all +her cynicism, all the shallow, heartless skepticism which had hitherto +ruled her character. Now was the time to laugh and to throw into this +man's face what she had been glad and satisfied to throw into the +faces of a dozen other men--the biting acid of her mockery. But she +could not laugh--she could not laugh at this man. Her tongue cleaved +to the roof of her mouth, her throat seemed thick with a suffocating +dust, so that she could make no sound. + +"God forgive me if I have boasted of my own progress," he went on +earnestly. "I know too well how much of the long road I have still to +travel. It could not be otherwise. I can not reach in a few months +what men have attained who have always lived in the light of truth. +But I have hope. I carry in my heart your image and the ideal you have +set me--the ideal of your race." + +Then speech was given her. + +"Cast that ideal out!" she said wildly and recklessly. "It is too low +for you. You have passed it. You never needed it. Choose your own +ideal, and forget me--forget us all. We can teach you nothing." She +caught her breath as though she would have called back her own words. +They were not the words she had meant to speak. They did not sound +like her own. They had been put in her mouth by a force within her +whose existence had been revealed to her, as a hidden volcanic +mountain is revealed, by a sudden fierce upheaval, which threw off all +the old rubbish loading the surface of her nature. It was only a +momentary upheaval. The next minute she was trying to save herself +behind the old flippant subterfuges. "I am talking nonsense!" she +exclaimed, with a short angry laugh. + +"Then it is not true what you said?" He had urged his horse close to +hers, and she could almost feel the intensity with which his eyes were +fixed upon her face. That gaze stifled her laughter, drove her deeper +into the danger she was striving to escape. + +"Yes, it is true!" she answered between her teeth. + +His strong hand rested upon hers and held it with a gentleness which +paralyzed her strength. + +"If it is true, then the time has come!" he said. "The hour has struck +which God ordained for us both. Beatrice, I may tell you now what you +have surely known since the day we stood together before the altar--I +love you. You are the first and last woman in my world." His voice +pierced through to her senses through waves of roaring, confusing +sound. Her heart beat till it became unbearable torture. "Do you +remember that second evening?" he went on. "The priest tried to stop +you at the gate of the sanctuary, but I spoke to him, and he let you +pass. You asked me what I had said, but I would not tell you--not +then. Now I may: 'This is the woman whom God has given me--'" + +She flung his hand violently from her. + +"You must not say that!" she cried, with desperate resolution. "You +must not say that sort of thing--to me." + +"Why should I not? I love you." + +"You must not love me. I--I am to be Captain Stafford's wife." + +"Beatrice!" His cry of incredulous pain drove her to frantic measures. + +"It is true. I swear it." + +Then it was all over. He made no protest. He rode by her side as +though he had been turned to stone, rigidly upright, his hand hanging +lifeless at his side, his face expressionless. She felt that she had +struck right at his life's vitality--that she had killed him. Yet it +was not remorse that blinded her till the white road became a +shimmering blur--it was a frightful personal pain which was hers and +hers alone. Neither spoke. They passed a crowd of natives returning to +the Bazaar. They salaamed, but Nehal Singh made no response, as was +his wont. He did not seem to see them. Mechanically he guided his +horse through the bowing crowd. The silence became unbearable. She had +flippantly told herself that as long as he did not make a "scene" she +would be satisfied. He had not made a "scene." From the moment that +she had made her final declaration he had not spoken, and now she was +praying that he would say something to her--anything, she did not care +what, only not that terrible accusatory silence. At last, in +desperation, she began to make it up with him as she had planned--in +an incoherent, helpless way. + +"I have hurt you," she stammered. "Forgive me--I did not mean to. It +has all been a cruel mistake. I looked upon you as a friend. How could +I tell that you meant more than that? If I have deceived you, I can +only ask you with all my heart to forgive me." + +He turned his head and looked at her. His eyes were dull and clouded, +as though a film had been drawn across them. + +"Not you have deceived me," he answered quietly. "I have deceived +myself. I thought I was following a great God-sent light. It was +nothing more than a firefly glittering through my darkness. You are +not to blame." + +He was already casting contempt at the influence which she had +exercised over him; he was cutting himself free from her--as she had +desired, as was inevitable. Yet, with a foolish, senseless anger, she +sought to draw him back to her and hold him, if only by the reverence +for what had been. + +"Do not despise our friendship!" she pleaded. "If it has not been what +you thought it was, has it any the less opened the gates of Heaven and +earth, as you said? What I have given you is good--the very best I had +to give. The ideal was a high one. I helped you toward it with my +friendship. Is it bad because it was only friendship--because it +couldn't be more than that? You do not know," she went on, with a +forced attempt to appear cheerful and matter-of-fact, "you do not know +how much your trust and confidence has been to me. I have been so +proud to help you. If I had ever thought it would come to this--I +would have stopped long ago." + +So she lied, clinging to his respect as though it had been her +salvation. And he believed her. His face relaxed, and for the first +time she saw clearly what he was enduring. + +"I do not despise our--friendship, even though it must end here," he +said. "What you have given me I shall always keep--always. I shall not +turn back because I must go on alone. Your image shall still guide me +in my life. It is not less pure and noble because I can not ever call +it my own." She heard his voice break, but he went on quietly and +gently: "I pray you may be happy with the man you love." + +She had conquered. She had kept her place in his life at the same time +that she was thrusting him out of her own. He would continue +undeterred along the road on to which she had tempted him--perhaps to +his destruction--believing in her, trusting in her as no other being +had ever done or would do. This much she had snatched from the +wreckage. + +They did not speak again until they reached her bungalow. Then he +dismounted and, quietly motioning the syce to one side, helped her to +the ground. + +"It is for the last time," he said. "Good-by, Lakshmi!" + +"Good-by!" + +She could not lift her eyes to his face, but from the top of the steps +she was tempted to look back. He stood where she had left him, his +hand resting on her saddle, his head bent, and there was something in +his attitude which sent her hurrying into the house without a second +glance. + +She found her mother waiting for her in her room, whither she fled to +be alone and undisturbed to fight and stamp out the pain that was +aching in her heart. Mrs. Cary, wonderfully curled and powdered, +received her daughter with unusual rapture. + +"My dear!" she exclaimed, kissing Beatrice on both cheeks, "I am so +glad you have come back early! Captain Stafford is here, and has +something for you--I shouldn't be surprised if it was a ring, you +lucky child! Did I not tell you he was the very husband for you? He +has been telling me all about Lois and Travers. Everybody is quite +pleased about it. Now hurry up and make yourself pretty. Why, what's +the matter? You look so--so queer!" + +Beatrice pushed past her mother and, going to the table, flung herself +down as though exhausted. + +"It's nothing," she muttered. "Tell--John I can't see him. I'm +tired--ill--anything you like." + +"Beaty, I won't do anything of the sort. What has happened? Is it that +horrid Rajah? Did you tell him?" + +"Yes." + +"And he made a scene, my poor Beaty?" + +"No." + +"Can't you answer me properly? Tell me what happened." + +"He asked me to marry him." + +Mrs. Cary first gasped, and then burst into a loud, cackling laugh. + +"He asked you to marry him! That colored man! I hope you laughed in +his face?" + +Beatrice turned, one clenched hand resting on the table. + +"No," she said, "I did not laugh--there was nothing to laugh at. I +have kept my promise to you." Then, unexpectedly she buried her face +in her arms and burst into tears. + +Mrs. Cary stood there thunderstruck, her mouth open, her eyes wide +with alarm. For one moment she was incapable of reasoning out this +catastrophe. She had never seen Beatrice cry--her tears, because of +their rarity, were as terrible as a man's, and could not be explained +away by nerves or fatigue. This was something else. Mrs. Cary crossed +the room. She laid a fat, trembling hand on her daughter's shoulder. + +"Beaty, what's the matter?" she asked uneasily. "What is it? Are you +ill?--or--or--Beaty!"--a light dawning across her dull face--"good +heavens! you don't love that man?" There was no answer. After a long +moment, Mrs. Cary's hand fell to her side. "You couldn't!" she +muttered. "It wouldn't do. Think of what people would say! Our +position!" Still no answer. She turned and stumbled toward the door. +"I will tell the captain--you are ill," she said. + +Beatrice did not move. + + + + + +BOOK II + + + + +CHAPTER I + +BUILDING THE CATHEDRAL + + +The pretty little drawing-room was already in half darkness. Travers +went to the window and, leaning his shoulder lazily against the +casement, began to sort out and open the letters that had been +lying on the tea-table waiting for him. + +"One from the Colonel, Lois," he said, after a moment's perusal. "No +news in particular. He is down with a touch of fever, and the whole +regiment is camping out without him. Stafford's marriage still hanging +fire. Silly girl! What's she waiting for, in the name of conscience?" + +Lois looked up from her duties at the table. + +"They have been engaged over a year," she said. + +"As long as we have been engaged and married," he answered with an +affectionate smile. "How long is that, little woman? About eighteen +months, eh? They don't either of them seem in much of a hurry." + +He went on reading, only stretching out his hand mechanically as she +brought him his second cup of tea. Lois remained at his side, her eyes +fixed thoughtfully, almost hungrily, on the torn envelope which lay on +the floor at his feet. + +"Why did you call Beatrice Cary a silly girl?" she asked at last. "It +never struck me that she was silly." + +"She wasn't, but she will be if she doesn't hold Stafford fast." + +A shadow passed over the face still turned to the floor. + +"Is Stafford--so--so desirable?" + +"His money is, dear child, and the Carys may need money in the near +future." + +"I thought they were rich?" + +"Their money is in the mine." + +"But the mine is to be successful?" + +He smiled in good-natured amusement at her persistency. + +"Have you ever heard of a mine that wasn't to be successful? If you +wait a moment, I will tell you the latest news. Here's a note from the +Rajah." + +He tore open the large square envelope, and went on reading with the +same idle interest. "There's been an accident with the blasting," he +observed casually. "Five men killed. Our native friend is, of course, +in a fever. Has pensioned all the families. I don't know where he will +land us with his extravagances. We shall want all the money we can get +for repairing the damage. Philanthropy is becoming a sort of disease +with him. Fortunately, I am not bitten so far." He laughed, and threw +the letter to one side. "I expect I shall have to run up north to put +things straight." + +"Hasn't the mine brought in enough?" Lois answered innocently. + +"Enough?" He looked at her with a twinkle in his bright eyes. "Dear +girl, it hasn't paid so much as a quarter of its expenses." + +"But will it ever?" + +"Heaven knows--or perhaps even Heaven does not. I'm sure I don't." + +"You talk so calmly about it!" she exclaimed, aghast. "Surely you are +heavily involved--and not only you, but the Rajah and the people in +Marut?" + +He patted her on the cheek. + +"Don't worry on that score," he assured her. "Besides, it's not my way +to sit down and cry over what can't be helped. I dare say I shall pull +through somehow." + +"Yes, _you_, perhaps." + +He changed color slightly under the challenge in her eyes, but his +expression remained unruffled. + +"You are not exactly a very trusting wife, are you, Lois? It comes of +letting a woman have a look into business. Never mind, we won't argue +the subject all over again. I know what you think of me. There, +good-by. I must be off again. Nicholson will be around shortly. I told +him he would find me at home." + +"Had you not better wait for him, then?" + +"Oh, no. I only told him I should be at home as a sort of _facon de +parler_. He only comes when he thinks I am there--admirable person--and +I know you like to have old friends about. Good-by, dear." + +"Good-by." She accepted his kiss listlessly, and when he had gone went +back to the window. + +The window had become Lois Travers' vantage-point of life. From thence +she could overlook the bustling Madras square into which four streets +poured their unending stream, and build her fancies about each one of +the atoms as they passed unconsciously beneath her gaze. Some of the +faces were well known to her. They always passed at the time when she +took her sewing and sat by the window, pretending to work by the +fading glow of evening light, and about each she wove a simple little +story, always, or nearly always, happy. She imagined the men returning +from business to their homes. If there was ever a cloud upon their +brow, she smiled to think how the trouble would be brushed away by +loving hands; if their step were more than usually light and elastic, +her own heart grew lighter with the thought that they were hurrying +back to the source of their happiness. + +Lois lived on the real or imagined joys of others. She clung to her +air castles in which her unknown heroes lived, building them more +beautifully, fitting them out with more perfect content, as her own +brick dwelling grew darker and more desolate. She felt that if ever +she let go her hold on them she would lose faith in human happiness, +and thus in life itself. For between Lois Travers the woman and Lois +Travers the light-hearted, high-spirited girl there stretched a year's +gulf. Marriage had been to her what it is more or less to all women--a +Rubicon, a Book of Revelations in which girlish ideals are rarely +realized, sometimes modified, more often destroyed. + +Clever and pliable women, women with the "art of living" do not allow +their hearts to be broken in the latter event, supposing them to have +relaxed their cleverness so far as to have had ideals at all; but +Lois was not clever or pliable, and her ideals had been destroyed. She +had loved John Stafford, and in some inexplicable way he had failed +her. She had given her life into Travers' hands in the belief that he +needed her for his progress, and that in helping him her idle powers +of love and devotion would not be wasted. Too late she realized--what +no woman ever realizes until it _is_ too late--that the man who needs +a woman for his salvation is already far beyond her help. + +Beneath Lois' light-heartedness and love of gaiety there lurked a +spirit of Puritanism which had drawn her to Stafford, and now brought +her into violent conflict with Travers' fundamental frivolity. In the +first month of their marriage she had had to admit that she had +reached the bottom of his character, and found nothing there--not so +much as a deeply planted vice. He had pretended a depth of feeling +which was only in part sincere, and he was too lazy to keep up a +pretense when his chief object was gained. He really cared for Lois, +but he had wilfully exaggerated the role she played in his life. +Always good-natured and kindly, he never allowed her to ruffle or +anger him. She had never seen him rough or cruel to any human being, +and all these superficial virtues forced her farther from him. + +A few significant incidents had revealed to her that his good nature +covered a cold-blooded indifference where his own interests were +vitally concerned. His apparent pliability hid a dexterity which +evaded every recognized principle. In vain she exerted the influence +with which he had pretended to invest her. The first effort proved +that it had never really existed. It was no more in his life than the +valuable ornament on his mantel-shelf--a thing to be dusted, +preserved, and admired in leisure hours, never set to serious use. +This last discovery, made shortly after their arrival in Madras, had +broken her. From that moment she had felt herself crippled. Her life +became a blank, colorless waste, all the more terrible because of the +mirages with which it was lighted. The world saw the mirages: the +good-looking, genial-tempered husband; the well-furnished house; all +the outward symptoms of an irrefutably satisfactory and successful +life. + +Only one person perhaps saw deeper, and that was Nicholson. He had +been ordered for a year to Madras, and thus it came about that they +often met. Travers' first dislike for the officer had evaporated, and +he seemed rather to insist on an increase of their intimacy, inviting +Nicholson constantly to the house. And in those long evening visits +Nicholson had seen what others did not see and what Lois kept hidden +in her own heart. For she had told no one that the mirages were no +more than mirages--that her life still lacked all the vital elements +of reality and sincerity. She was proud, and not even the people in +dear old Marut suspected that she was stifling in the hot Madras air +and in the unhealthy atmosphere of small lies and loose principles in +which Travers was so thoroughly at home. Only Nicholson's sensitive +temperament felt what others neither heard nor saw. + +So a year had passed, and every evening Lois sat by the window, +watching the busy crowd, and building up their lives as she had once +dreamed of building up her own. She scarcely thought of herself. +Memories are dangerous. The present was too real to be considered, and +the future too blank and hopeless. + +The darkness increased. Twilight yielded to nightfall, and the yellow +lights sprang up in the shops opposite her window. She heard the door +open, but did not turn, thinking it was her husband unexpectedly +returned. + +"Shall I light the lamp?" she asked. + +It was not Travers who answered. A familiar voice struck on her ears, +like the memories, ringing out a dangerous response from her tired +soul. + +"Forgive me, Mrs. Travers. I met your husband this afternoon, and he +told me to drop in unannounced, as he would be alone. It seems the +other way about. I am very sorry to seem so rude." + +Lois rose quickly to her feet. She saw Nicholson standing in the +doorway, tall, upright, his face hidden by the shadow. + +"I won't disturb you," he added, after a moment's hesitation. + +The tone of formality hurt her. With a return of her old +impulsiveness, she began searching for the matches. + +"You are not disturbing me," she said. "On the contrary, I--was +expecting you. Archibald told me you were coming, but I forgot to +light up. I was twilight-dreaming, if there is such a term." + +She laughed with a forced cheerfulness, and he made no answer. The +little red-shaded lamp gave her some trouble, and when she looked up +she saw that he was standing opposite her, the light falling on a +broad scar across his forehead. + +"How the burn shows to-night!" she exclaimed involuntarily. "Will you +never lose it?" + +"Never," he answered. "I do not want to. When I am depressed, I look +at it, and remember that I have done one thing worth doing in my +life." + +"I don't know," she returned. "You have done more useful things than +that." + +"Not to my mind." + +"Well, but to mine. There, when I have pulled the curtains and put the +lamp just at your elbow, you could almost imagine yourself back in +England, couldn't you? Imagine the street outside as a bit of London. +There could hardly be more noise. The idea may refresh you. You look +so tired." + +He seated himself in the comfortable wicker chair by the table and +looked about him with a faint smile of content. + +"Yes," he said, "it is homely, isn't it? The red light, and the pretty +little room, and you sitting there working. It might be a corner of +the old country--or of Marut. Your study was just like this, I +remember." + +"Yes, I copied it. It made me feel less lonely. Only I flatter myself +that it is tidier here than it used to be in the old days." + +He laughed, and the laughter sent the light shining in his eyes. + +"Rather! When I first joined I had the chemical craze on, do you +remember? I thought I was going to discover some wonderful new +gunpowder, and we used to experiment together in your room. The +business came to an untimely end when I blew off part of the +ceiling--" + +"And some of my eyebrows!" she interposed merrily. + +"Yes, of course. I don't know which disaster upset Mrs. Carmichael +most, good soul. After that I forget what craze came about, but we +always had a new one on the list, hadn't we?" + +She nodded, her head once more bent over her work. + +"None of them lasted," she said. "Crazes never do." + +There was a moment's silence. Their little burst of gay recollections +was over, and the restraint had regained its old ascendancy over them. +Unknown to her, Nicholson was watching his companion with keen, +anxious eyes. + +"You look pale and tired," he said gently. "Madras is getting too much +for you. When is Travers going to take you for a change?" + +"I don't know. Not just now. Besides, I am happier here. I like the +noise and bustle." + +"You used not to. You were all for outdoor sports and beautiful +scenery." + +"Yes, but now it is different. I could not stand the quiet. I must +have noise to distract me--I mean, I have grown so accustomed to it." + +"Yes," he said slowly, "one grows accustomed to it." Then, presently, +he added, in another tone: "At any rate, my term in Madras is at an +end. I return to Marut next week." + +She started. The start was almost a violent one, and her hands fell +limply in her lap. + +"You are going back to Marut?" she said. "For ever?" + +He smiled, but his eyes avoided hers. + +"Not for ever, I hope. I am sick of pen-work, and want to get back to +the front among my men. There is a company of sepoys to be stationed +at Marut, and they have given me the command. It's a good post, though +of course I would rather be at the frontier, where there's something +doing. At any rate, I must get away from Madras as soon as possible." + +"Yes," she said absently, "no doubt it is best." + +She went on stitching as though nothing had happened, but her hands +trembled, and once she threw back her head as though fighting down a +strong emotion. But he had ceased to watch her. He was leaning a +little forward, one elbow resting on his knee, his eyes fixed +steadfastly in front of him. + +"Can I be the bearer of any messages?" he asked at last. + +"No, thank you. I write regularly. Or--yes, you might tell them that +you left me well and happy. That will please them. Will you be so +kind?" + +"Will it be kind to give a message which is not quite true?--I mean," +he added hastily, "you do not seem strong." + +"Oh, I am strong enough. I do not think I shall ever be ill." + +Another long and painful silence intervened. There was no sound, save +Lois' thread as it was drawn through the thick material. Nicholson +drew out his watch. + +"You mustn't think me rude, Mrs. Travers," he said, with an abrupt +return to his old formality, "but I have any amount of work to do +before I leave, and among other things I wanted to see your husband on +business. He told me the other day that he had some shares in the +Marut Company going, and said if I would care for them--" + +Her work dropped from her hand to the floor. She stared at him with a +face whiter than the linen she had been stitching. + +"But you are not going to buy them?" she asked sharply. Something in +her tone forced him to meet her eyes. + +"Oh, I don't know. Why not? I'm a poor business man, and your husband +always seems to come off well in his ventures. Without being in the +least a speculator, I should be glad to make a little money." He +smiled. "I have another craze on, you see--a gun this time--and it +requires capital to complete. So I thought--" + +She leaned forward. One small hand lay clenched on the table between +them, and there was a force and energy in her attitude which arrested +his startled attention. + +"I think you are mistaken, Captain Nicholson," she said. "My husband +has no shares to sell." + +"But yesterday he told me that he had!" + +"Yes, yesterday, no doubt. But he heard to-day from the Rajah. I +think, if you do not mind waiting, he will tell you himself that what +I say is true." + +For a second they looked straight at each other without speaking. +Neither was conscious of any clear thought, but both knew that in that +breathing space they had exchanged a signal from those hidden chambers +which men unlock only in brief moments of silent crisis. The crisis +had come in spite of a year's defiant struggle. It had broken down the +barrier of trivial commonplaces behind which they had always sought +shelter; it had rushed over them in a flash, like a sudden tidal wave, +scorning their painfully erected defenses, driving them helplessly +before it. It had no apparent cause, save that in that moment of alarm +she had looked at him with her soul unguarded, and he, overwhelmed by +that silent revelation, had allowed his own sternly repressed secret +to flash back its breathless message. Nicholson was the first to +regain his self-control. He bent down and, picking up her work, +restored it gently to her hands. + +"You must go on with your sewing," he said. "I like seeing you work. +It completes the picture of a--home--" + +"Yes," she interrupted, in a rough, broken voice. "It is a perfect +picture, is it not? Just so, as it is--only, of course--" she laughed +as he had never heard her laugh before--"of course it's only a +tableau--it isn't real." + +Once more her head was bent over her work. He saw how with every +stitch she was fighting stubbornly for calm--fighting with all the +dogged desperation of a high-minded woman who sees herself trembling +at the edge of a bottomless abyss. He knew now for certain that her +apparent happiness was a sham and an heroic lie--that she knew what he +knew of Travers' outside life, and suffered with the intensity which +honor must suffer when linked with dishonor. He saw, with a soldier's +instinctive admiration, that she was holding her ground against the +fierce and unexpected attack of an overwhelming enemy, and that he, +who had his own battle to fight, must hold out to her a helping, +strengthening comrade's hand. + +"Lois!" he said quietly. "Lois!" + +She went on working. The name had been a test of her strength, and she +had borne it. He knew that he could go on with what he had to say. + +"Lois, we had our young enthusiasms in those old days--crazes, we will +call them--and of course, like all young enthusiasms, they are gone +for ever. But there were other things. Sometimes we used to talk very +seriously about life, do you remember? I dare say we talked nonsense +for the greater part--we were very young--but we were intensely +serious. We told each other what we thought life was, and what we +intended to make of it. It was then we had the idea of the cathedral." + +She looked up earnestly at him. + +"The cathedral? Haven't you forgotten?" + +"No. I never forgot it." + +"I thought you had. It is all such a long time ago. When I read about +you in the papers, and heard of all the wonders you had done, I was +sure you must have forgotten the chatter of your fifteen-year-old +playfellow. A man who spends his day as you did, in the saddle, and +the night in long, anxious watches, does not have time for such ideas +as we cultivated in those days." + +"You are wrong, Lois. The idea is everything. It is the mainspring of +a man's life. If I did anything wonderful, as you say, it was for the +sake of the cathedral. There was, for instance, one night which I +remember very well. A whole tribe had risen. Half my men were down +with fever, and I felt--well, pretty bad. I was a bit delirious, I +fancy, and in delirium very often the foundations of a man's character +come uppermost. The cathedral was always in my mind. I saw your half, +and it was getting on splendidly. That goaded me. I felt I had to go +on, too. So I pulled myself together and went ahead. We pulled through +somehow, and I have always felt that in that night I laid the chief +stone." + +The burning tears sprang to her eyes. + +"So all that splendid work was done for the sake of our cathedral?" + +"Partly, but not in the first place. Do you remember of what use our +cathedral was to be in the world? It wasn't merely to be a monument to +our own glory--it was to be a sheltering place for others, an example +to them, an inspiration. You said once, very rightly, that if every +here and there a human being made a cathedral out of his life, other +people would soon get ashamed of their mud-huts, and pull them down. +They would try to build cathedrals on a bigger and nobler scale than +the first one, and probably would succeed. Thus the work would go on +from one generation to another. It was an idea worthy to form the +foundations of a man's ambition. I made it mine, as I knew you had +made it yours. It strengthened me to think that every decent action +was a fresh stone to the building which in the end would stand +perfect--not to my glory, but to the glory of the whole human race." +He smiled, though his eyes remained serious. "As an Englishman, I can +not help wishing that cathedrals should be most plentiful on English +soil." + +"Do you really think that one small human life can make so much +difference?" she asked, rather bitterly. "I used to think so, in my +self-important days, but I am beginning to believe that our little +individual efforts are hopelessly lost in a sea of rubbish." + +"Our youthful conceit is more justifiable than such self-disparagement," +he answered. "I often think that humility--at any rate a certain kind--is +a questionable virtue. In lessening our own value, we lessen our own +responsibility, and our responsibility is tremendous. One life can make +the difference of a cathedral spire in a town of low-built huts or of a +snow mountain in an ugly plain. I am sure of it--and so are you. So is +everybody who thinks about it. But people do not think. It is sometimes +much more convenient to believe that one is too insignificant to have +any responsibility. But to my mind there is not a vagabond in the street +who is not directly helping on our national decay, and who might not be +building up the Empire." He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. "You +know I am not just talking, Lois. It is my life's principle which I lay +before you--mine and yours. How long is it since we have spoken of these +things? Ten years. Since then we have been building steadily at our +cathedral. We must go on." + +"How can we?" she answered wearily. "It is not our cathedral any more. +I thought you had forgotten, and--" + +"My first day in Marut I sent a message to you--a little in fun, but +with an earnest purpose. I wanted to see if you had forgotten, and I +wanted you to know that I had remembered. I told you that the +cathedral still lacked its chief spire." + +"I never got the message. It was that day Archibald asked me to be his +wife. When did you send the letter?" + +"It was not a letter but a verbal message, by Travers." + +"That afternoon?" + +"Yes, that afternoon." + +She covered her face with her hand. + +"He--he must have forgotten," she said at last. + +"Yes, he must have forgotten," he agreed quietly. + +There was a long silence. She remained motionless, but he heard her +breath being drawn in quick, painful gasps. The battle for them both +was at its height. He bent forward and took the hand that lay clenched +in her lap gently in his own. + +[Illustration: He took her hand that lay clutched in her lap.] + +"Dear little Lois, dear little comrade! We are like two architects, +you and I. We were very young when we set out on our great task, and +no doubt we have made many blunders. In the beginning we each hoped +secretly that the time would come when we should be able to crown our +work hand in hand. It was that I was thinking of when I sent my +message. Well, things have turned out differently--perhaps through our +own fault. But the cathedral must go on. Instead of one spire, as we +had hoped, there will be two spires. You will build yours, I mine. +They will be far apart, and so we of necessity must be apart, too. But +the cathedral will go on; and in the end--who knows?--it may be more +perfect than as we saw it in our first great plan." + +"But we might have built together, Adam!" + +"Yes. We might even build together now--but then it would no longer be +a cathedral. It would be a mud hovel like the rest. And that would be +wrong--wrong to the world and wrong to ourselves. Have you understood +what I mean?" + +He waited patiently, his hand still clasping hers. One single piteous +tear rolled down her cheek, but that was all, and when she looked up +at him her eyes were calm and steadfast. + +"I understand quite well what you mean," she said, "and I know that +you are right. God bless and help you." + +"And you, Lois." + +They exchanged a firm pressure. Then Nicholson rose. + +"I must be going," he said. "Will you tell Travers that I shall be +around at the office to-morrow morning? If by any chance he has any +shares going, I should be obliged if he would allot them to me." + +Lois rose also. Her face was turned toward the door. + +"If you wait one moment, you will see him yourself," she said. "I +think I hear him coming upstairs." + +She was right. The next minute the door opened quickly and Travers +entered. Evidently something unusual had happened. In one hand he held +an open telegram. His face was crimson with excitement and his lips +parted as if with a hasty announcement. But as he saw the two standing +at the table watching him, he stopped short, looking from one to the +other with a flash of amused curiosity in his eyes. + +"Hullo, you both here?" he said cheerfully. "How cozy you look. See +here, Lois, I've just had a telegram from the Rajah. He wants me to +come at once. Can you be ready to start in three days?" + +"For Marut?" A rush of color filled her pale cheeks. + +"Yes, of course. By the bye, Nicholson, that's your destination, isn't +it? We might travel together." + +"I think not," was the quiet answer. "I have orders to start next +week." + +"Well, there's no great hurry for us, I expect. Our friend, Nehal, is +of an excitable disposition. I hope you haven't had to wait long for +me, Nicholson. You said you had some business you wanted to talk over +with me." + +"Yes, it was about those shares. But if you are busy--" + +"Oh, that's all right. It won't take more than a few minutes to +settle. How much do you want to invest? I tell you, my dear fellow, +it's a splendid thing, and--" + +He was unexpectedly interrupted. He had taken out a heavy pocket-book +and was busily looking through some papers, when Lois laid her hand on +his. + +"I think Captain Nicholson is under a misapprehension, Archibald," she +said, in a low voice. "He said you had some shares to sell him, but I +remembered what you said about the mine, and I told him that there +must be some mistake. I was quite right, wasn't I?" + +Every word she had spoken sounded emphasized as though she were +striving to convey a double meaning, and the second in which husband +and wife looked at each other was to the puzzled witness a painful +eternity. With a strong perceptible effort, Travers turned away. + +"So my wife has broken the news to you?" he said, smiling. "Yes, I'm +awfully sorry. Everything good gets snapped up so confoundedly +quickly. Better luck next time. I was quite dreading disappointing +you, but Lois, as usual, has taken my disagreeable task from me." He +patted the hand which still rested on his own. "Stay and have a little +dinner with us," he added cordially, as Nicholson prepared to take his +leave. "I'd like to make up to you with a little of my best Cliquot." + +Nicholson shook his head. The impression that he stood before a veiled +and unpleasant comedy increased his desire to get away. + +"Thanks, I'm afraid I can't," he said. "I have work to do. Good +night." + +"Good night. To our next meeting in Marut!" The two men shook hands. + +"Good night, Mrs. Travers. You will be able to be your own messenger +now," Nicholson said. + +She met his glance with quiet courage. + +"They will be able to see with their own eyes that things are going +well with me," she answered simply. + +When the door closed upon Nicholson's tall form she went back to her +husband's side. He was busy consulting time-tables, and hardly seemed +aware of her approach. Only when she touched him on the arm did he +look up. + +"Well, what is it?" + +"I want to know if you are angry?" + +"What about?" + +"The shares--and Captain Nicholson. I felt it was wrong to deceive +him. He is not rich, and you told me that the mine was a failure." + +"Of course, you have every reason, no doubt, to consider your friend +before your husband," he said with a sudden outburst which he +instantly regretted. He had encouraged--nay, forced--her intimacy +with Nicholson. With what purpose? He himself hardly knew. Perhaps +somewhere at the bottom of him he was beginning to dread the honesty +of her character as an unspoken reproach. If she were less perfect in +her conduct, his own life would have seemed less blamable. Or perhaps +his motives had been more generous. He knew he had nothing to give +her--and Nicholson was a good fellow. At any rate, it was a mistake to +have betrayed even a moment's irritation. She had shrunk back from +him, but he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her. "There! Of +course I am not angry. You've lost me a few hundreds, but you're worth +it, and I dare say it was all for the best. Run and write a note to +the Colonel and say we are coming, there's a good little woman!" + +Lois turned wearily away. He had not understood her. She considered +him more than she had considered Nicholson. She had wanted to save +him from what she felt was a mean and treacherous step. But he had not +been able to understand. Nor could she have explained. Between certain +characters all real communication is an impossibility, and words no +more than sounds. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CATASTROPHE + + +The tea-room, usually the most animated portion of the Marut +club-house, had lost its cheerful appearance. The comfortable chairs +had been cleared on one side and replaced by a long green baize table +littered with papers; the doors leading on to the verandah were +closed, and a stifling atmosphere bore down upon the five occupants +who were ranged about the table in various attitudes of listless +exhaustion. + +"I can't think what we have been called here for," Mrs. Cary protested +loudly; "and from the way we have been locked in, we might be in a +state of siege. I know I shall faint in a minute. Beatrice, pass me my +salts, child." + +Her daughter obeyed mechanically, without moving her eyes, which were +fixed in front of her. Colonel Carmichael, who was seated at the far +end of the table, opposite the Rajah, smiled good-naturedly. + +"If _you_ feel yourself justified in grumbling, what about me, Mrs. +Cary?" he said. "You at least are a share-holder, and I suppose there +are some formalities to be gone through, but what I have to do with +the business I can not imagine." + +"Business!" groaned Mrs. Berry from his right. "That's the silliest +part of it all! What's the good of getting me to talk business? I +don't understand business; I never did, and never shall. Why doesn't +Mr. Travers come? I'm sure I have been waiting quite ten minutes." + +"Perhaps the Rajah can give us a clue to the mystery," the Colonel +suggested. "Rajah, don't you think the ladies could be allowed their +liberty? I can not think that their presence is so essential." + +Nehal Singh looked up. From the moment he had exchanged nothing more +than a brief salutation with the four Europeans, he had sat with his +head bent over some papers, reading, or pretending to read. The months +had brought a new expression to his face. Pain had cut her lines into +the broad forehead; anxiety met the Colonel's questioning gaze from +eyes which had once flashed happy confidence and enthusiasm. + +"I am afraid I can give you no answer, Colonel Carmichael," he said +quietly. "Since Mr. Travers has returned to Marut all control over +affairs has passed out of my hands into his. For some reason, I have +been kept in ignorance as to the progress of events, and I wait here +to-day with you as completely in the dark as any one. No doubt he will +be here in a few minutes." + +"With good news, I hope," Mrs. Cary sighed. "I also am no sort of a +business woman, but I understand enough to know that if one invests +money in an honest concern one gets interest sooner or later. And so +far the Marut Company hasn't paid me a penny piece." + +Nehal Singh started slightly, and his glance wandered to the red face +of the speaker with an expression that was akin to fear. + +"An honest concern!" he repeated. "Do you mean that--that it is not +honest?" + +Mrs. Cary beamed with recovered equanimity. + +"Good gracious! How could you suppose I should mean such a horrid +thing, dear Prince! Of course everything to which you put your hand is +hall-marked. Otherwise I should never have dreamed of investing my +money in the Marut Company." + +There was a silence. The Colonel drummed with his fingers on the +table, watching the native sentry who passed stolidly backward and +forward in front of the closed windows. Mrs. Cary fanned herself and +exchanged whispered comments with Mrs. Berry on the opposite side. +Beatrice remained motionless. From the beginning of the meeting she +had once raised her eyes--on Nehal Singh's entry--and then it had been +for no more than a second. That second had been enough. She had seen +his face. She had seen--and it was not her imagination, but a real and +bitter irony--that of all the people in the room she alone had been +the object of his quiet greeting. She knew then--for her eyes had not +lost their keenness--that the eighteen months in which they had +scarcely met had made no difference to him. He still reverenced and +loved her. For him she was still "Lakshmi," the goddess of beauty and +perfection; for him she was still the ideal, the woman of goodness and +truth and purity. Her victory over him had been complete, eternal. She +had betrayed him and retained him. Of all her triumphs over men and +circumstances this was the most perfect. Yet she sat there, white and +still, not lifting her eyes from the table, and seemingly unconscious +of all that went on about her. + +Presently a carriage drove up the avenue. They heard Travers' voice +giving some orders, and a moment later he himself entered, followed by +a Mr. Medway, his chief mining engineer. He closed the door and with a +grave bow took his place at the table. He seemed indifferent to or +unaware of the curious and somewhat anxious glances which were turned +toward him. There was something in his appearance which cast an +unpleasant chill over every one of the little assembly. Even the +Colonel, though an outsider, felt himself disagreeably impressed by +Travers' new bearing, and the good-natured banter which he had held in +readiness for the new arrival died away on his lips as he responded to +the cold, formal bow. For some minutes no one spoke. Travers was busy +arranging some papers which he had brought with him, and only when he +had laid these out to his satisfaction did he rise to address the +meeting. He held himself stiffly erect, his fingers resting lightly on +the table, his pale face turned toward the window as though he wished +to avoid addressing any one directly. The usual geniality was lacking +in his composed features. + +"Colonel Carmichael and honorable share-holders in the Marut Diamond +Company," he began, "you are no doubt wondering why I have called this +private meeting. I do so because you are the chief partakers in the +concern, and because, as my friends, I wish to offer you an +explanation which I do not feel bound to offer to the other +share-holders within and without Marut. This excuse does not hold good +for you, Colonel Carmichael, and you must feel I am encroaching +heavily on your valuable time. Nevertheless, I assure you that your +presence will assist me considerably in my difficult task." + +"I am sure I shall be delighted to do anything in my power," Colonel +Carmichael responded, "but I fear my knowledge of intricate business +details is not such as to make it of the slightest use to you." + +"The business is not intricate," Travers went on. "Nor do I propose +drawing out this meeting to any tiring length. The heat must be very +trying for the ladies present, but my wish to keep what passes +between us, at any rate for the time being, entirely secret, makes it +essential to sit in closed rooms. I will be as brief as possible. Two +years ago the Marut Diamond Company first came into existence under +the protection of our friend, Rajah Nehal Singh. For some time +previous to this event it had been my great ambition to open out a +diamond field in which, thanks to favorable reports, I sincerely +believed. My position, however, and above all my lack of personal +means, made the scheme an impossibility so far as I was concerned. +Chance brought me the pleasure and misfortune of making your +acquaintance, Rajah. I say 'misfortune,' because, as events have +turned, I can not but feel that my casual observations led you to +enter into an enterprise before which another man, if I may say so, +with more experience and less impulse, would have hesitated. + +"Your generosity and enthusiasm brought my half-conceived plans into a +reality almost before I had any clear idea as to whither we were all +drifting. You will remember, Mrs. Cary, I did my best to dissuade you +from any rash investment; and even there, as director of the company, +I felt that I was not acting with entire loyalty to the man who had +put me into that position. The responsibility of the whole matter +rested heavily on my shoulders, and grew still heavier as the circle +of share-holders without Marut increased. I felt that, should my first +hopes prove unfounded, my friends and many others would suffer losses +which they could ill afford to bear. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my +painful duty to tell you that the dreaded collapse has come. Mr. +Medway, here, the company's chief engineer and mining expert, informed +me yesterday that any continuation of the works was useless and a mere +waste of the share-holders' money. I therefore beg to announce to you +that the Marut Diamond Company Mine is definitely closed." + +The Colonel clenched his teeth half-way through the first oath he had +ever allowed himself in the presence of ladies. He was not an +unusually egoistical man, but his first thought was one of unutterable +gratitude that in the moment of strong temptation his wife had held an +obstinate hand on the purse-strings. + +The first person to speak was Mrs. Cary. She leaned half-way across +the table. + +"And my money?" she said thickly and unsteadily. "Where's my money? +Where's my money? Tell me that!" + +Travers shrugged his shoulders. + +"I fear it has gone the way of mine and of the other share-holders'," +he said. "Nor can I hold out any hopes of its coming back. The +expenses of the mine have been terribly heavy, the workmen have been +extremely well paid--extremely well paid." There was a distinct note +of reproach in his voice, though he looked at no one. + +Mrs. Cary sat down in her seat. It was a pitiful and almost terrible +sight to see her, all the florid, vulgar ostentation and sleek content +dashed out of her, leaving her with pasty cheeks and horror-stricken, +staring eyes to face the ruined future. Mrs. Berry burst into +ever-ready tears. + +"Oh!" she sobbed. "What will my husband say! I told him it was such a +good thing--it isn't my fault. What will he say!" + +The sharp, wailing tones broke through Mrs. Cary's momentary +paralysis. She sat up and brought her fat clenched fist down with a +bang upon the table. + +"You!" she half screamed at the Rajah. "You--you black swindler--you +thief--it's you who have done it--you who have ruined us all with your +wicked schemes. You baited us with this clubhouse--you pretended you +wanted to do us such a lot of good, didn't you? And all the time you +meant to feather your own nest with diamonds and the Lord knows what. +Give us back our money, you heathen swindler! For you aren't a +Christian! You pretended that, too, just as a blind--" + +Her flow of frightful coarse invectives came to an abrupt end. Colonel +Carmichael, who knew now why his presence had been required, leaned +forward and pushed her firmly down in her seat. + +"For Heaven's sake, Mrs. Cary, hold your tongue!" he expostulated, in +a rapid, emphatic undertone. "You don't know what you are saying. You +are not in England. A little more of that sort of thing, and our lives +aren't worth an hour's purchase." + +"I don't care," she retorted, with all the headlong brutality of her +origin. "It's true what I say! It's true!" + +"It is true." The interruption came from the Rajah himself. He had +risen and stood before them, very pale, but calm and composed, his +eyes fixed with haggard resolution on the furious face of his accuser. +"It is true. I am a swindler. I have ruined you all. Why should you +believe it was done unwittingly? Yet that is true also. I, like my +poor friend here whom I used as my tool, believed that I was doing the +best for you all. But I have ruined you. I have done worse than +that--I have ruined my country, my people. You have friends who will +help you in your distress, but who will help my people? I pulled them +out of their miserable homes only to cast them into deeper misery. I +have taken their pitiful savings, meaning, without the use of charity, +to increase them tenfold. I have taken everything from them. I gave a +hope, and have left them with a deeper despair. Not all my wealth--and +not a stone, not a farthing piece shall be held back from your and +their just claims upon me--will fill up the ruin of those I wished so +well. It is true--I stand before you all a dishonored man." + +There was a moment's petrified silence. Even Mrs. Cary's coarse nature +stood baffled before this pitiless, dignified self-accusal. Nor could +the Colonel find a word to say. He had been ready--knowing the native +character--to defend Mrs. Cary from the stroke of a revenging dagger. +His half-outstretched arm sank powerless before the stroke of these +few words, spoken with a calm which thinly covered a chaos of remorse +and broken-hearted grief. + +"I have a question I should like to ask you, Mr. Travers." + +There was a general uneasy start. Each shook off his brooding +considerations and turned with surprise to this unexpected speaker. It +was Beatrice, hitherto silent and apparently unmoved, who leaned +across to Travers. He himself felt the blood rise to his face. In his +absorbed state he had not noticed her presence, and now that he met +her cold eyes a curious discomfort crept over him--a discomfort that +was nearly fear. + +"I will answer your question to the best of my ability," he said +quietly. + +"The Rajah has spoken of you as his tool, and I think from your tone +that you think yourself aggrieved. In what way have you suffered? What +is your share of the losses?" + +"I have lost all I have." + +"All you have, no doubt. But your wife is very rich, and I believe has +grown richer within the last year. I am anxious to know if you intend +to follow the Rajah's generous example and meet your liabilities with +her fortune." + +The Colonel, who had been staring vacantly at her, gave a start of +recollection. + +"Yes!" he exclaimed energetically. "The settlement and Lois' own +money--what's become of it all? Has that gone, too?" + +"Of course not." Travers' hand tightened instinctively upon the arm of +his chair. "I should never have dreamed of touching what was my wife's +personal property. Nor do I intend to do so now. I am no more than the +manager of the company--I am not responsible for its liabilities. Miss +Cary's suggestion is beside the mark, and I warn her, for her own +advantage"--there was a somewhat unpleasant note of warning in his +rough voice--"not to pursue her questions further." + +Beatrice rose to her feet. She was calm and, save for the vivid color +in her cheeks, betrayed at first little of the seething storm of +indignation which rose gradually above the barriers of her self-control. +She did not look at the Rajah. She stared straight into Travers' face, +and once she pointed at him. + +"You have been good enough to threaten me," she said. "It would be +best for you to know at once that your threats are quite useless. +There is nothing you can say about me which I am not ready to say +myself--and there is nothing you can do which will prevent me from +revealing the true facts of this case. You have feathered your nest, +Mr. Travers. That is what you told me to do, and now I understand what +you meant. You saw this ruin coming at the very time that you were +encouraging every one to partake further of the company's future +success. You honored me, as a sort of accomplice, with a private piece +of advice. Thank God, I did not take it, for then I should have been +your debtor. + +"As it is, I owe you absolutely nothing--not even the wealthy husband +you promised me. There is a bottom to my depths. And even if I did owe +you something, I should not hesitate to speak. You can call me a +traitor if you like--I don't care. I am that--and I have been far +worse than that to a man who did not deserve it--and I have, anyhow, +not much reputation to lose. Besides, you have stood by without a +word and let an innocent man bear your burden, and for that alone +you have no right to claim loyalty from another." + +She turned for the first time to Nehal Singh, and met his gaze boldly and +recklessly. "Do not stand there and call yourself a dishonored man!" she +exclaimed with increasing force. "You are not dishonored. Do not call +Mr. Travers your 'tool.' He is not your tool, and never has been. You +are his tool,--his and mine!" She paused, catching her breath as she saw +him wince. Then she went on: "Don't burden yourself with the consciences +of us all, for we have not got any; and what has been done we have done +knowingly and wilfully. Do you remember that evening when you found me in +the temple? You thought it was--chance--or--or the hand of God. Why, +Mr. Travers hired one of your old servants to slip me through by the +secret path, and I had on my prettiest frock and my prettiest smile and +my prettiest ways--as I told them all afterward at a dinner-party--pious +goodness, with a relieving touch of the devil--just to tempt you out of +your cloister and make you do what we wanted. + +[Illustration: "Do not call yourself a dishonored man!"] + +"You followed like a lamb. It took five minutes to wheedle the +club-house out of you--five minutes, I think you told me, Mr. +Travers?--and the other things went just as smoothly. Do you remember +that ride we had together after Mr. Travers' dance? He had broached +the subject of the mine, but the next day something or other seemed +to have shaken your implicit belief in our integrity and general +holiness. At any rate, you asked me for my advice--my honest advice. I +gave it you. I told you to go ahead--that Mr. Travers was an angel of +goodness and perfection. That was what he suggested I should say, in a +note he had sent me an hour before. So you went ahead. You did the +dirty work for him, and took his responsibility upon your shoulders. +You have ruined a few of us incidentally, but above all things you +have ruined yourself and your people. Mr. Travers is unharmed. He has +his wife's money." + +She paused to gather her strength for a final effort. "So much for Mr. +Travers' and my partnership. I did my share of the work to shield +myself and my mother from a trouble which must now go its way. But +after that, I played my own game. I did not want to lose you--even +though I knew quite well that you cared for me, and that I should +never marry you. Months before I had made up my mind to marry a man +with a high position and money. It was just a game I was playing with +you. Even when you forced things to a head, I kept it up. I pretended +innocency and high motives--because I wanted to feel you at my +apron-strings always. We all treated you more or less badly, but I was +the worst. I fooled you--for--for--" + +"For what?" + +His voice burst from him, harsh and terrible as though it had been +torn from the bottom of a tortured soul. + +"For the fun of the thing." + +Among the seven present there was no movement, no sound. Scarcely one +seemed to breathe or be alive except the woman who stood there, her +breast heaving, a twisted smile of wild self-mockery on her ashy lips. + +Nehal Singh turned and went to the door. There he stopped and looked +back at her and the little group of which she formed the central +figure. Then he made a gesture--one single gesture. He raised his hand +high above his head and brought it down, palm downward. In that +movement there was a contempt, a scorn, a bitterness so profound that +it seemed to mingle with a terrible pity; but above all there was a +final severing, a breaking of the last link which bound them. The next +minute the door closed behind him. + +How long the silence that followed lasted no one knew. It was broken +by Mrs. Cary, who flung herself face downward on the table, and burst +into wild, uncontrollable sobs. + +"Oh, Beaty!" she moaned. "Our reputations--our good name! How could +you have told such wicked stories about yourself and poor Mr. Travers! +How could you!" + +Colonel Carmichael shook his head. He was overwhelmed by a cross-current +of conflicting emotions to which he could give no name. + +"True or not true, your--eh--statement has got us into a pretty mess, +Miss Cary," he said. "You have played with fire. Pray Heaven that it +has not set light to Marut!" + +She turned and looked at him. In that pale face upon which had sunk +the light of a sudden peace the Colonel read something which sent his +blunt instinct searching wildly for a solution. + +"I did what I had to do, Colonel Carmichael," she said. "Come, mother, +we must go home." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A FAREWELL + + +John Stafford sat at his table by the open door which looked on to the +garden. The room behind him was bare of all graceful or even tasteful +ornament--a few native weapons, captured probably during small +frontier wars, hung on the wall, but nothing else relieved its blank, +whitewashed monotony. The one photograph of his father which had once +been fastened above the mantelpiece had been taken down months before +and the hole made by the nail carefully and methodically filled and +painted over. The room typified the man in its painful order, its +painful whitewashed cleanliness, its rigid plainness. But the garden +was the symbol of the hidden possibility in him, the corner of warm, +impulsive feeling which the world had never seen. The roses grew up to +the very steps of the verandah; they had been trained to clamber over +the trellis-work as though seeking to gain entrance to his room; they +spread themselves in rich, glowing variety over the little patch of +ground, and one of their number, the most lovely and fullest blown, +hung her heavy head in splendid isolation from the vase upon his +table. + +He looked at the rose and he looked at the garden, on which lay the first +clear rays of the rising sun. In him stirred a rare wistfulness, a rare +melancholy. For to him all the gentler, softer forms of sorrow were rare. +In the last year he had suffered, but in his own way--rigidly, coldly, +unbendingly. His lips, even in the loneliness of his own room, had always +been tight closed over the smothered exclamation of pain. He had gone on +steadily and conscientiously with his work. He had never for one moment +"given way to himself," as he expressed it. But this morning he was in +the power of that strange "atmosphere"--call it what you will--which we +feel when still only half awake, and which, independent of all outward +circumstances, destines our day's mood of cheerfulness or depression. +Strangely enough, he had made no struggle against it--he had yielded to +it with a sense of inevitableness. + +The inevitable compassed him about and numbed his stern, merciless +system of self-repression. Fate, irresistible and unchangeable, +obscured the clear path of duty which he had marked out for himself, +and held him for the moment her passive victim. It was no idle fancy. +He was not a man in whose thought-world fancy played any part. Nor was +it the gloomy impression which a lonely twilight might have stamped +upon a mind already burdened with a heavy weight of trouble. The young +day spread her halo of pure sunshine over a world of color; the red +rose upon his table bowed her head toward him in the perfection of a +mature beauty which as yet hid no warning of decay. But in the +sunshine he saw the shadow; the daylight foretold the night; his eyes +saw the withered petals of the rose strewn before him. In vain he had +striven to see beyond the night to the as inevitable to-morrow; in +vain he had pictured the rose which his careful hand would bring to +replace her dead sister. The future was a blank dead wall whose +heights his foresight could not scale. + +Before him on the table lay a closed and sealed envelope. It contained +his will, which half an hour before he had signed in the presence of +two comrades. He wondered what the world would say when it was +opened--and when it would be opened. + +Presently the curtains behind him were pushed quietly on one side. He +did not turn around. He supposed it was his native servant with the +cup of coffee which formed his early morning refreshment; but the soft +step across the uncarpeted floor, the rustle of a woman's dress +startled him from his illusion. He turned and sprang to his feet. + +"Beatrice!" he exclaimed. + +She came toward him with outstretched hand. + +"May I speak with you for a few minutes, John?" she asked. + +His first impulse to protest against her reckless disregard of +propriety died away on his lips. Something on her white earnest face +touched him--all the more perhaps because it linked itself with his +own mood. He brought a chair--his own, for the room boasted of but +one. + +"Are you angry?" she asked again, looking up at him. + +"At your coming? No. At another time I might have warned you that it +was not wise, but I feel sure you would not have run so much risk +without a serious and adequate reason." + +She nodded. + +"Yes, I have a very serious reason," she said. "Have you time to +spare?" + +"All the morning." + +"Were you on duty last night?" + +"For the best part." + +"Is that why you look so tired and ill?" + +He smiled faintly. + +"I might reply with a _tu quoque_. But that doesn't matter. You have +some trouble to tell me. What has happened?" + +"You have heard nothing?" + +"Nothing whatever." He drew a stool toward him and seated himself at +her side. "You know, I am not a person to whom gossip drifts quickly." + +"It's not gossip--it's truth. The Marut Diamond Company is closed--for +good and all." + +"You mean--it has gone smash?" + +"Completely--and we with it." + +He sat silent for a moment, his head resting thoughtfully on his hand. + +"I suppose it had to come," he said at last. "Somehow, it always +seemed to me that the concern was doomed. The foundations weren't +honest. The Rajah was more or less beguiled into it--" He broke off, +turning crimson with vexation. "I beg your pardon, Beatrice. I forgot +that that was one of your--escapades." + +She looked at him steadily, and he was struck and again strangely +moved by her pale beauty. He had never seen her so gentle, so free +from her cold and mocking gaiety. + +"You must not apologize. And do not smooth over a mean, low trick with +the name of an escapade. It was not an escapade, for an escapade is +the overflow of high and reckless spirits, and what I did was done in +cold blood and with a purpose. I have come to tell you about that +purpose." + +He could not repress a movement of surprise. + +"Surely you have something more serious on your mind than that? If, as +you say, your--your financial position has been rendered precarious by +this failure of the Marut Company, would it not be advisable to hurry +on our marriage at once? Of course, in the meanwhile, if I can do +anything to help your mother--" + +She touched him gently on the arm. + +"I told you I had come on a serious matter," she said. "Won't you let +me tell you what it is?" + +"Of course, Beatrice, of course. Only I thought that was the serious +matter." + +"It is perhaps for my mother, but not for me. Things have changed +their value in my life. Just now I feel there is only one thing that +has any value at all, and that is freedom." + +"From what? I do not understand. Do you mean from debt?" + +She smiled sadly. + +"Yes, from debt. John, I want to ask you an honest question honestly. +Why did you ask me to become your wife?" + +He moved uneasily. + +"Why do you ask? Surely we understand each other." + +"We did, perhaps, but I have told you that things have changed. Won't +you answer me?" + +"I asked you--because I wished you to be my wife," he returned +stubbornly. + +"John, isn't that rather a lame equivocation?" + +He stared at her with heavy, troubled eyes. + +"Yes, it was. But the truth might hurt you, Beatrice." + +"No, it wouldn't. Nothing can hurt so much in the end as lies and +humbug." + +"Well, then, I asked you to become my wife because I believed that my +conduct had put you into a wrong and painful situation in the eyes of +the world." + +"Nothing else?" + +"I wished to prove to Lois that I could never be her husband." + +"You were afraid that she would see through your pretense to your +unchanged affection for her?" + +He started. + +"Beatrice, how do you know?" + +"Look in your own glass, John. Yours isn't the face of a man who has +shaken off an old attachment." + +He rose and stood with his back half turned to her, playing idly with +the papers on the table. + +"You are partly right," he said, after a moment's silence, "but not +quite. I have more on my shoulders than that; I have a heavy +responsibility--a debt to pay." + +"You, too?" she asked, with a return of the half-melancholy, half-bitter +smile. "Have you also a debt?" + +"Not of my making," was the answer. The voice rang suddenly stern and +harsh, and Beatrice saw him look up suddenly, as though instinctively +seeking something on the wall. "Beatrice, you must know that my +actions are dictated by motives which I can not for many reasons give +to the world. For one thing, I have given my promise; for another, my +own judgment tells me that it is better for every one that I should be +silent. But I am free to say this much to you--I am not a +dishonorable man who has played lightly with the affections of an +innocent girl. I have acted toward Lois as I believe will be for her +ultimate happiness--I have shielded her from a misfortune, a +punishment I might say, which would have fallen unjustly on her +shoulders. I have taken a burden upon my shoulders because I love +her--and I have the right to love her--but chiefly because it is my +duty to do so. Where there is sin, Beatrice, there must also be +atonement, otherwise its consequences can never be wiped out. I have +chosen to atone." + +Beatrice made no attempt to question him. Her eyes fell thoughtfully +on the gaunt face, and for the first time she appreciated to the full +what was great and generous in the nature she had condemned all too +often as narrow and unbending. Whatever else he was, this man was no +Pharisee. If he was narrow, he allowed himself no license; if +unbending, he was at least least of all relenting toward his own +conduct. She pitied him and she respected him, even though she could +not understand his motives nor guess the weight of the responsibility +which he had taken upon himself. + +"I can not reproach you with deception," she said at last. "You never +pretended that you loved me, and on my side I think the matter was +pretty clear. I intended to marry you for your position. Afterward +money added a further incentive. I saw the loss of our own fortune +coming. Travers warned me on the same day that we became engaged." + +A dark flood of indignant blood rushed to Stafford's forehead. + +"The man is an unscrupulous adventurer--no doubt he has safeguarded +his own interest carefully enough," he exclaimed bitterly. + +"You are quite right. His wife has all the money, and he has taken +care that it should be well tied up and out of reach. That is what my +father did." + +He turned to her again. + +"Your father?" + +"Yes, my father," she repeated, meeting his eyes gravely and +unflinchingly. "He tried to do what Travers did. But he wasn't quite +so clever. He ran too close to the wind, as he said himself, and they +put him in prison. He died there." + +He stood looking at her with a new interest. He too, was beginning to +understand. The bitter line about the mouth was not the expression of +a hard, unfeeling heart after all, then, and the sharp, mocking laugh +which had jarred so often on his ears was not the echo of a shallow, +worthless character? They were no more than the deep wounds left after +a rough battle with a world that knows no pity for those branded with +inherited shame and dishonor. He had misjudged her. There were +unlimited possibilities of nobility and goodness in the beautiful face +lifted to his. But he said nothing of the thoughts that flashed +through his mind. In moments of crisis we always speak of what is +least important. + +"And you managed to keep it a secret in Marut?" he asked. + +"Yes, it was a marvel, wasn't it?"--her eyes brightening with a spark +of the old fun. "We lived in a constant state of alarms and +excursions. But Mr. Travers did what he could. He knew all about it, +and he helped us." + +"On conditions, no doubt?" + +"Of course, on conditions. But he said, quite truthfully, that he had +no idea of blackmailing me. It was just a fair bargain between us." +She paused a little before she went on: "Now, you understand what +brought us to Marut, and what made you such a desirable catch. We +wanted to get clear away from the past and build up a new life. But we +couldn't. One can't build up anything on a lie." + +"That is true," he returned sternly, "and yet this is hardly a time +for you to talk of your failure. From the moment that you are my +wife--" + +"But, John, that's what I never shall be." She laughed wearily. "Do +you think a clever woman would own up to an unpleasant past to the man +she wanted to marry? And if you want to hear more detestable things +about me, ask the Colonel, ask Mrs. Berry, ask the Rajah. They know +all about me, for I told them yesterday. You don't need to look so +white and haggard. I am not going to marry you. That is what I came to +say. And I wanted to explain everything, and to ask you, if you can, +to forgive me all the trouble I have brought upon you." She rose, and +held out her hand to him. "Will you shake hands, John?" + +He stood motionless by the table, watching her with a last stirring of +the old distrust. + +"I do not understand you," he said bluntly, and in truth he did not. +This pale-faced woman with the earnest eyes deep underlined with the +marks of sleepless nights was a riddle which his stiff, conventional +imagination could not solve. + +"Is it necessary that you should understand?" she answered. "I have +not asked you to explain why, still loving her, you threw Lois over. I +believe that you had some grave reason. It could not be graver than +mine for doing what I am doing." + +"Then you mean that--it is entirely over between us?" + +"Yes, it is over between us. Your sense of justice will not have to +undergo the ordeal of forcing your sense of honor to link itself with +dishonor. To your credit, I believe you would have married me, John, +and I am grateful. But there's an end of it. I have come to say +good-by. I suppose it is absurd, but I wish we could remain friends." + +This time he took her hand in his. Now that the artificial union +between them was done away with, their real friendship for each other +came back and took its rightful place in their lives. + +"Why shouldn't we, Beatrice?" he said. "Heaven knows, we both have +need of friends." + +"It is a strange thing," she continued thoughtfully, "that, though you +are so completely my opposite, I have always liked you. Even when you +most jarred upon me with your prunes-and-prisms morality, I was never +able quite to close my heart. I wonder why?" + +He could not repress a faint amusement at the flash of her old self. + +"It has been the same with me," he said. "Even when you trod on all my +principles at once, I haven't been able to smother a sort of +shamefaced respect for you. You always seemed more worthy of respect +than--well, some of the others." + +"I suppose it is our sincerity," she said. "You are sincere in your +goodness, and I, paradoxical as it sounds, in my badness." + +"I think not," he answered, looking her gravely in the face. "I think +it is because the hidden best in both of us recognized each other and +held out the hand of friendship almost without our knowing." + +She smiled, but he saw a light sparkle in her eyes. + +"Oh, practical John, you are making fast progress in the soul's world! +Who has taught you?" + +He turned away from her back to the table and stood there gazing out +over the garden. + +"No one. It is a mood I have on today which makes me see clearer than +I have done before. Go now--if any one saw you here, you know what +Marut would say." + +"Yes, I know Marut very well by now. Not that it much matters. +Good-by. Please--I found my way alone; I can find the way out." + +She had reached the door before he stopped her. + +"Beatrice!" + +She turned. + +"What is it?" + +"I have a favor to ask of you--or rather, I have a trust to put in +your hands. It is in a sort of way the seal upon our good +understanding. There is no one else whom I could trust so much." + +She came back to his side. A new color was in her cheeks. Her eyes +looked less tired, less hopeless. + +"A trust? That would make life worth living." + +He took up the packet on the table and gave it to her. + +"That is my will. I made it afresh last night. It was witnessed this +morning. In it I have made you my executrix, with half my estate. The +other half I have left to Lois." + +"Now you must leave it all to her," she said. + +"No, I wish it to remain as it is. Besides--" He broke off hurriedly, +as though seeking to avoid an unpleasant train of thought. "Beatrice, +the world won't understand that will. Lois won't, and I pray, for the +sake of her happiness, that she may never have to--but if the time +comes when this must be put into action, I want you to give her a +message from me. Will you?" + +"Of course I will. But"--she faced him with a sudden inspired +appeal--"must you wait until you are dead to speak to her? Would it +not be better to go to her now with your message? I do not know what +has come between you both, but I know this much--all forms of pretense +are fatal--" + +He stopped her with a gesture of decision. + +"No," he said. "The secret must remain secret. It has overshadowed my +life. It has laden me with a burden of responsibility and shame which +I have determined to share with no one. I have taken it upon my +shoulders, and I shall carry it to the end. Tell Lois that I have +never once swerved in my love for her. Ask her to trust me and think +kindly of me. It is not I who have sinned against her--" + +"Sinned against her! Who has sinned against her? Do you mean me?" + +"No, not you. You also have been sinned against. I also." He sighed +wearily. "When I look about me, it seems as though not one of us has +not in turn sinned and been sinned against. It is an endless chain of +the wrong we do one another." + +She laughed, and for the first time there rang in her voice a note of +the old harshness. + +"Look at me, John. There is no turn and turn about with me. From the +beginning I have tricked and lied and fought my way through life. I +didn't care whom I hurt so long as I got through. I sinned. Who has +sinned against me?" + +"One person at least," he answered significantly. + +She caught her breath, and the hand that passed hastily across her +forehead trembled. + +"Even if it were true what you say," she said, half inaudibly, "it +does not alter the fact that we must atone for what has been done." + +"It is the justice of the world," he assented. "We must make good the +harm we do and the harm that has been done us." He threw back his +shoulders with a movement of energetic protest. "Do not let us waste +time talking. We can not help each other. All I ask is--do not forget +my message." + +She looked at him, strangely moved. + +"You talk as though you were going to die to-night," she said. + +"I talk as a man does whom death has already tapped on the shoulder +more than once of late," he answered, with grim humor. "Good-by, +Beatrice." + +"Good-by." + +He pushed his writing-table to one side so that she could pass out on +to the verandah. + +"Do not come with me farther," she said. "The carriage is waiting +outside. I would rather go alone." + +He stood and watched her as she passed lightly and quickly among the +rose-bushes. It was as though he were trying to engrave upon his mind +the memory of a lovely picture that he was never to see again,--as +though he were bidding her a final farewell. Twice she turned and +glanced back at him. Was it with the same intent, guided by the same +strange foreboding? She disappeared, and the voice of a native +orderly who had entered the room unheard recalled him to the reality. + +"A letter for you, Captain Sahib," the man said, saluting. + +Stafford took the sealed envelope and, tearing it open, ran hastily +over the contents. It was from the Colonel. The subscription, as usual +since the rupture in their relations, was cold and formal. + +"I should be glad to see you at once," Colonel Carmichael had written. +"Events occurred yesterday which I have not as yet been able to +discuss with you, but which I fear are likely to have the most serious +consequences. In the present weakened condition of our garrison, we +can afford to run no risks. Nicholson is with me here. Your presence +would simplify matters as regards forming our plans for the future." + +Stafford turned to the waiting soldier. + +"Present my compliments to the Colonel Sahib," he said. "I shall be +with him immediately." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +STAFFORD INTERVENES + + +The threatening cloud which had loomed up on the horizon had acted +wonders on Colonel Carmichael's constitution. At the last meeting of +the Marut Diamond Company he had looked like a man whose days on the +active service list were numbered. Ill-health, disappointment, and a +natural pessimism had apparently left an indelible trace upon him, and +Mrs. Carmichael's prophetic eye saw them both established in +Cheltenham or Bath, relegated to the Empire's lumber-room--unless +something happened. The something had happened. The one sound which +had the power to rouse him had broken like a clap of unheralded +thunder upon his ears. It was the call of danger, the war-note which +had brought back to him the springtime of his youth and strength. + +Stafford found him restlessly pacing backward and forward in his +narrow workroom, deep in conversation with Nicholson, who stood at the +table, his head bent over a map of Marut. Both men were in uniform, +and it seemed to Stafford that Colonel Carmichael listened to the +click of his own spurs with the pleasure of a young lieutenant. It was +no longer the sound of weary routine. It was the herald of clashing +sabres and the champing of impatient horses awaiting the charge; it +was an echo of past warlike days which were to come again. He stood +still as Stafford entered, and a flash of satisfaction passed over his +face. + +"I'm glad you have come," he said. "Whatever is to be done must be +done at once. I suppose you know nothing?" + +"Nothing," Stafford answered. "Your note was the first intimation I +have received that there was anything amiss." + +Colonel Carmichael grunted angrily. + +"Of course you know nothing," he said, resuming his restless march +about the room. "Nor did I--nor did any one. Heaven and earth, I'm +beginning to think there's something wrong in our theory that whatever +is going on under our noses must be too insignificant to be noticed! +There, Nicholson, hurry up and tell him what you know." + +Nicholson stood upright, and folding the map put it in his pocket. + +"I was in the New Bazaar last night," he began curtly. "I go there +regularly, as you know, disguised as one thing or another, just for +the sake of having a look at the people when they don't know they are +being watched. Last night there was no one there--not so much as a +child or a woman. The place was dead. I admit that I was not +particularly startled. I knew that there was a great festival at hand. +Pilgrims have been streaming in for days past, and it was quite +conceivable that some ceremony was taking place in the temple. +Curiosity fortunately led me to investigate further. Myself disguised +as a traveling fakir, I made my way to the Rajah's palace gates. +Already on the road I was joined by a hurrying stream of men and +women, principally men. My suspicions were aroused. I knew from +experience that it was not a usual crowd of pilgrims. Every man was +armed, not only with knives, but guns and revolvers. Some of them were +undoubtedly deserted sepoys who had stolen their weapons. Moreover, +they exchanged a signal which I recognized and, in order to escape +detection, imitated. It was the signal which in past generations +revealed one member of the Thug fraternity to another." + +"Thugs!" exclaimed Stafford, with a faintly skeptical smile. + +"Do not misunderstand me," Nicholson said. "I am not going to recall +to your minds the nursery horrors with which our ayahs regaled our +childish imaginations. I will only emphasize one fact. The Thugs were +not and are not merely a band of murderous and treacherous robbers. +They belong to the priesthood, they are the deputed servants of the +goddess Kali, and their task is the extermination of the enemy--of the +foreigner, that is to say--in this case, of ourselves." + +Stafford glanced at the Colonel. The latter's face was set and grave. + +"I do not for a moment suggest that the crowd with which I traveled +were Thugs," Nicholson continued. "I know that they were not. But they +had adopted the Thug sign because they had adopted the Thug mission. +Not, however, till we had passed the gates and reached the palace did +I realize the gravity of the situation. The Rajah stood on the great +steps, surrounded by a body-guard of torch-bearers. He was dressed in +full native costume, a blaze of gems, and wearing the royal insignia. +The expression on his face was something I shall not easily forget, +and at the time it was inexplicable to me. I can not describe it. I +can only say that I was instantly reminded of Milton's fallen Satan as +he stands above his followers, superb, dauntless, but tortured by +hatred, contempt and God knows what strange minglings of remorse and +anger. He greeted the crowd with the sign of death. His first words +revealed to me that his allegiance to us was at an end, and that he +meant to follow in his father's bloody footsteps." + +Stafford stretched out his hand, catching hold of the back of a chair +as if seeking support. + +"Go on!" he said sharply. + +"I have very little more to say. I did not wait, for I had heard +enough to know that Marut was in instant danger. I made my escape as +best I could, but in order to avoid notice I had to resort to +circuitous paths, and only reached here this morning." + +Colonel Carmichael brought his hand down angrily upon the table. + +"To think that the scoundrel should have been pretending friendship +all the time that he was preparing to murder us!" he exclaimed. "This +comes of trusting a native!" + +"Excuse me, Colonel," Nicholson answered, with emphasis. "I have every +reason to believe that until yesterday Nehal Singh was our sincere +ally." + +"You mean to say that he stamped an armed crowd out of the earth in +half an hour?" + +"No. That armed crowd was the silent work of years. It was the tool +which has been held ready for a long time--but not by Nehal Singh--" + +"By whom, then, in the name of all--" + +Nicholson drew out an old and faded photograph and handed it to the +Colonel. + +"Do you recognize that face?" he asked. + +"Certainly I do. It is the Rajah's father--Behar Singh. How did you +come by this?" + +"It belonged to my father. He gave it me, and I kept it as a +curiosity. Colonel, I saw that man last night at the Rajah's side." + +The photograph fluttered from the Colonel's powerless fingers. He +looked at Nicholson, and there flashed into his old eyes a terrible +primitive passion of revenge and hatred. + +"My God! He is alive--and I never knew!" + +"He is alive, Colonel. And I believe that, hidden from us all, he has been +working steadily and stealthily at the task which saw its completion last +night. So long as Nehal Singh stood on our side he could do nothing. The +people believe Nehal to be an incarnation of Vishnu, and they will only +follow where he leads. Behar knew that--probably he himself had fostered +the idea. He guessed, probably, that one day Nehal Singh would turn from +us. He waited. Last night I saw a face of devilish triumph which told its +own tale. He had not waited in vain." + +Colonel Carmichael turned to Stafford and held out his hand. For the +first time old friendship shone out of his eyes mingled with a fire of +thirsty revenge. + +"You and I have a debt to pay before we die, Stafford," he said. + +Stafford's hand touched his coldly and powerlessly. + +"I have nothing against the Rajah," he said hoarsely. "I can not carry +out a revenge against the son--" + +Colonel Carmichael interrupted him with a hard laugh. + +"They are all of a piece," he said. "Say what you will, Nicholson, +Nehal Singh is a traitor. We were fools to trust him. We are always +fools when we do not treat a native as a dangerous animal. They murder +us for our silly, sentimental confidence." + +Nicholson bent down and, picking up the photograph, replaced it in his +pocket. + +"Do you think so, Colonel?" he said significantly. "From, my +experience I have learned that you can always trust a native. You can +treat him as your friend and equal so long as the inequality is there +and obvious to him. I mean, so long as in everything--in generosity, +in courage, and in honor--he realizes that you are his superior." + +Colonel Carmichael's face darkened with anger. + +"Do you mean, perhaps, that--that we are not all that?" he demanded. + +"Surely not all of us. How many men think that any sort of conduct is +good enough to show a native? What did Behar Singh see of our honor? +He was our friend until an Englishman who had eaten and drunk his +hospitality repaid him by a dishonorable theft. What has Nehal Singh +seen of our superiority? In spite of his father's influence, he came +to us prejudiced in our favor. He saw heroes in us all, and he +trusted himself blindly in our hands. What has been the consequence? +Look at yesterday's scene, as you have described it to me, Colonel. +His best friend had proved himself a mean and treacherous swindler. +The woman whom as I judge he regarded as a saint--forgive me, +Stafford, I must be honest--no more than a heartless flirt, who had +led him on from one folly to another for the sake of a little +excitement--" + +"Rubbish!" Colonel Carmichael burst out. "What are exceptions in a +whole race?" + +"In a strange country no one is an exception, Colonel. One coward, one +thief, one drunkard is quite enough to cast the blackest slur upon the +whole nation in the eyes of another race. As sincerely as he believed +yesterday that we were all heroes, as sincerely Nehal Singh believes +to-day that there isn't an honest man among us." + +This time Colonel Carmichael made no answer. He went over to the +window and stood there frowning obstinately out over the neglected +garden. His eyes fell on the ruined bungalow, and he called Nicholson +to his side. + +"Look at that!" he said. "In that place Behar Singh murdered my best +and only friend, Steven Caruthers. I have not forgotten and I can not +forget. It has branded every native for me as a murderer. No doubt +this proves your argument. From the first I shrank from all contact +with the present Rajah. I distrusted him, and it is obvious now that +my distrust was well founded. What do you say, Stafford? You, too, +were against having anything to do with him." + +To his surprise and annoyance, Stafford did not respond. He stood +there with his hands clasping the back of the chair, his brows knitted +in painful thought. + +"Come, Stafford, what have you to say?" the Colonel repeated +impatiently. + +"I think there is a good deal in what Nicholson says," Stafford +answered, speaking as though he had only just heard that he was being +addressed. "The Rajah has not been well treated. He has a right to +feel bitter. And he seemed a fine sort of man. Without prejudice, +Colonel, one can not withhold a certain admiration for him. He has +behaved better than some of us." + +Colonel Carmichael frowned, but his sense of justice forced him to a +reluctant admission. + +"Yes, he has a few showy virtues. Yesterday, for instance. Under +the circumstances, he behaved like a gentleman and a man of honor. +Before nightfall the English share-holders in the mine got their +money back in gems and rupees--he must have pulled the palace to +pieces. In fact, everything might have gone off smoothly if it hadn't +been for that--that--" He coughed and glanced at Stafford, not without +a touch of malicious satisfaction. + +"You are alluding to Miss Cary, Colonel," Stafford said, returning his +glance with dignity, "and you are at liberty to say what you like, for +I have no longer the right to champion her. At her request, our +engagement is at an end. But as her friend I can not refrain from +saying this much--she has not spared herself, and, God knows, she also +has not been treated well." + +What memories passed before the Colonel's mind as he stood there gazing +absently in front of him! Recollections of mean and envious criticisms, +ugly underhand slanders, petty intrigue, his own shame-faced patronage! +And then the vision of a lovely, white-faced woman making her desperate +self-accusal, and of a terrible, vulgar mother trying to hold her back +with threats and pleadings! He turned at last to the two men, his own +face red and troubled. + +"I apologize," he said. "I apologize all around. I seem to have been +insulting everybody in turn. I dare say you are all right. The Rajah +may be ill-used and Miss Cary well-meaning. I don't know. And what on +earth does it matter? The fat is in the fire, and here we stand +chattering like old women about how it got there. Something must be +done. The regiment is a day's march from here, and with a company of +your Gurkhas, Nicholson, we shan't do much--scarcely hold out if they +dare attack us." + +"They will dare," Nicholson answered. "So much I know for certain, and +it will probably be to-night. I can vouch for my men, and we must do +our best until help comes. But--" He paused rather significantly. + +"But what, man? Don't you think it will come in time? I have already +telegraphed. They will be here in twenty-four hours. Surely we can +manage so long." + +"Colonel, if you had seen what I saw last night, you would not count +much on help. It isn't the rising of a few unarmed men. It is the +revolt of a fanatic, warlike nation led by a man. They call him God. +His godhead does not matter to us. As a god we have no need to fear +him; but as a man and a born leader of men, with hatred and revenge as +an incentive, armed with unlimited power, he is an enemy not to be +held at bay by a handful of Gurkhas and not to be conquered by a +regiment." + +His words had their quiet, fatal significance. Colonel Carmichael and +Stafford looked at each other. Hitherto they had faced the situation +coolly enough, with their eternal national optimism and self-confidence. +This man had wrenched down the veil, and they stood before a chasm to +which there seemed no shore, no bottom. It was the end, and they knew it. + +"You mean, then, that it is all over?" the Colonel said casually. "You +know more than either of us. You ought to be able to tell." + +"Yes, Colonel, I should judge that it was all over, unless a miracle +happens." + +"We might fight our way through." + +"On my way early this morning the roads were already guarded. They did +not recognize me, otherwise I should not be here." + +"And the women?" + +All three men had grown cool and indifferent. Death had stepped in, +and from that moment it was not seemly to show either trouble or +excitement. + +"According to my idea, the women had better be lodged here in your +bungalow," Nicholson said. "The surrounding walls make it a good place +of defense. The barracks are too open." + +The Colonel nodded. Quite unconsciously he was letting the reins of +command slip into the younger and stronger hands. + +"They must be brought over at once," he assented. "Thank Heaven most +of them have gone to the hills. Mrs. Berry and that--that other woman +had better not be told what's up. They will only make a fuss. My wife +will understand--and Lois will be all right. We must get hold of +Travers, if it is only for her sake. It would serve him right if we +left him to his fate." + +Stafford took a step forward. + +"I have a suggestion to make, Colonel," he said. + +Colonel Carmichael looked at him. Throughout the interview Stafford +had acted and spoken like a man who is weighed down by a burden of +terrible doubt and perplexity. He alone of the three men had shown the +first sign of emotion, and emotion in the face of death was for the +Colonel no better than fear. His face hardened. + +"Well," he said, "what is it?" + +"Rajah Nehal Singh is not a barbarian," Stafford began. "I believe he +would listen to reason if one of us could get hold of him. He seems to +have his country's welfare at heart, and if it was explained to what +horrible bloodshed he was leading it--" + +"There must be no cringing!" Colonel Carmichael interrupted sharply. + +"It will not be a case of cringing. We could simply put the matter +before him." + +"There is something in what Stafford says," Nicholson agreed. "From +what I know of the Rajah, he seems both reasonable and humane. He may +have yielded to his father's importunities in a fit of anger, and is +perhaps already wishing himself well out of the mess. For the women's +sake, Colonel, we ought to have a shot--and not all for the women's +sake, either. Heaven knows what this business will cost England if it +comes to a head!" + +Colonel Carmichael bit his lip impatiently. He did not recognize his +own motives of desiring a last hand-to-hand struggle. They were those +of an old man who sees Cheltenham and stagnation looming in the +distance and prays for death. But his common sense conquered the +selfish promptings. + +"Who would be likely to undertake the mission with any hope of +success?" he asked. + +"Nehal Singh and I were, toward the end, rather more than friendly," +Nicholson began. "I believe he entertained a real liking for me--" + +"If any one goes, I must!" The interruption came from Stafford. His +head was raised. He faced the two men with a stern determination. "No, +Nicholson; I know all you want to say. I have no sort of sympathy with +the natives--I haven't your power over them. But this is different. I +have a power. I may have. Let me go. If I fail, then you can try." + +"By the time you have failed it will be too late," Nicholson returned. +He was watching Stafford with almost pitying curiosity. His keen +instinct penetrated the man's strained and nervous bearing to some +conflict which seemed to have had its birth with the first mention of +Nehal Singh's name. + +"It will not be too late," Stafford answered persistently. "I ask for +an hour, Colonel. In an hour I shall know--whether--whether I have the +power." + +"Captain Stafford, are you mad!" the Colonel said sternly. "This is +not a time for experiments." + +"I ask for an hour," Stafford repeated, and there was an emphasis and +earnestness in his voice which cut short Colonel Carmichael's angry +sarcasm. "At the end of that time Nicholson can do what he likes. I am +not mad. I beg of you to ask no questions. I can not answer them. I +can only tell you that I have a great responsibility--toward you all +and toward another." + +Colonel Carmichael was silent for a moment. Stafford's manner awed and +troubled him in spite of himself. + +"Very well," he said at last. "I give you an hour. During that time we +will make preparations for the worst." He took out his watch. "It is +now eleven. At twelve the matter passes into Nicholson's hands." + +Stafford saluted. + +"I understand, Colonel." + +Nicholson accompanied him toward the door. + +"God-speed!" he said simply. Stafford hesitated, his heavy eyes +resting on the fine face of his brother-officer with an almost +passionate gratitude. + +"Thank you, Nicholson, thank you. God help me to do what is right!" + +He turned and hurried from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MURDER + + +Archibald Travers stood in his favorite attitude by the window, his +shoulder propped against the casement, his arms folded, a smile of +good-natured amusement on his healthy face. + +"My dear child," he protested, "what earthly interest can it have for +you to know the pros and cons of the business? You wouldn't +understand, and that small head would ache for a week afterward. Be +content with the outline of the thing. Of course it has all been +frightfully unfortunate. But the Rajah wasn't to be held back. He +believed the mine was going to be the making of Marut--and for a +matter of fact so did I at first, otherwise I shouldn't have put all +my money in it. The fellow had an enthusiasm and confidence which +fairly carried us off our feet. Well, it's done, and it's no use +crying about it. The best thing we can do is to clear out of Marut as +fast as we can. People are bound to be disagreeable about it." + +"The Carys are ruined too?" she asked. + +"Oh, I don't know--they have lost a bit, I suppose." His voice sounded +unpleasant. "At any rate, I'll say that for them--they behaved as +people of their extraction would behave. First the mother poured out a +torrent of abuse over the poor Rajah which would have been the envy of +a fish-wife, and then the daughter turned on me." He laughed. "It was +a most powerful scene of feminine hysterics. I was glad that you were +not there." + +Lois sat silent, her head resting on her hand, her eyes fixed +thoughtfully on the table. + +"And what are we going to do?" she asked at last. "You take the matter +so easily, but if we are really ruined--" + +He laid his hand affectionately on her shoulder. + +"_I_ am ruined, Lois. I did not say that you were. Even with your +rather low opinion of me, you could hardly have supposed that I would +touch your money. You are well enough off to do what you like. As for +me--" he squared his shoulders--"I feel quite capable of starting +things all over again." + +His tone touched her. She looked up, and her face softened. There was +nothing that could have made her happier than to have discovered in +her husband some elements of courage and sincerity. + +"Of course, Archibald, whatever is mine is yours," she said. "You must +have known that." + +"My dear generous little woman!" He bent over her and kissed her, +apparently unconscious that she instinctively drew back from his +caress. "If you really will help me, no doubt I shall build things up +again in no time, and this one blunder won't count for much. You are a +worthy comrade for a man." + +Perhaps he had accepted her offer too quickly, perhaps his tone jarred +on her as too elated, too satisfied. She got up, pushing her letters +quickly to one side. + +"You really wish us to start for Madras to-night?" + +"Yes, if you can manage it. It is important that I should get back as +soon as possible, and the business here is finished." + +"Very well. I will pack up as much as I can. The rest must be sent on +afterward." + +He let her reach the door before he stopped her again. + +"By the way, Lois, there is one thing I must ask you. I do not wish +you to have any further intercourse with that Beatrice Cary. She is +not a person with whom I should wish my wife to associate. You were +right about her--she is a bad, unscrupulous woman." + +With her hand on the curtain she turned and looked back at him. A +cloud of curious distrust passed over her pale face. + +"I never said that she was bad or unscrupulous. I do not believe that +she is. You say that now, but it was not your old opinion." + +"I suppose it is possible to see people in different and less +agreeable lights?" he retorted sharply. + +"Only too possible. But as she was never a friend of mine, and we are +leaving within the next few hours, the injunction to avoid her is +unnecessary." She paused as though listening. "I hear some one talking +to the syce," she went on hurriedly. "It sounds like Captain +Stafford's voice. Archibald"--she turned and came quickly to his +side--"please let me out of the verandah. I don't want to meet him." + +He caught her by the wrist and pushed her back. The movement was +brutal, unlike his usual gentleness, and she saw by the expression of +his face that for the moment he had lost all consciousness of what he +was doing. + +"I don't want to see him either. Go and tell him that I am not at +home--that I have started for Madras--quick! Don't stand there +staring." + +His extraordinary excitement, apparently unreasonable and entirely +opposed to his calm, easy-going habits, had the effect of setting fire +to her dormant suspicion. She wrenched herself free. + +"I am not going to tell him a lie," she said firmly. + +"Lois, you are a little fool! Do as I tell you. It isn't a lie--only a +piece of conventional humbug which everybody understands. There, +please!" His tone of entreaty was more disagreeable to her than his +roughness. All the pride and rigidity of her Puritan temperament was +up in arms against the indefinable something which it had long ago +recognized and despised. + +"It is not conventional humbug," she retorted--"not in this case. You +are lying because you are afraid, because you have a reason for not +seeing Captain Stafford which you won't tell me." + +He had not time to answer. The curtains were pushed on one side, and +Stafford entered hurriedly. He was covered with dust and looked +haggard and exhausted. He did not seem to see Lois, though she stood +immediately in front of him. His eyes passed over her head to Travers. + +"I am sorry to come in unannounced," he said, without giving either an +opportunity to speak, "but your servant was making difficulties, and I +have not a minute to lose. I have galloped every inch of the way here +from the Colonel's bungalow. I must speak to you at once, Travers, +alone." + +Lois went toward the door. As she passed him she saw him look at her +for the first time. And she went her way blinded with tears that had +no cause save in the stern, unhappy face which had flashed its message +to her. For she knew that his glance had been a message; that he had +tried to explain, and that she had not understood. The curtain fell +behind her, and Stafford crossed the room to Travers' side. + +"You have heard what has happened?" he demanded. + +Travers had resumed his old attitude of indifference. Only his eyes +betrayed the uneasiness which he was really feeling. + +"Do you mean the Rajah? No, I haven't heard anything, but if he is +making himself a nuisance, I am not surprised. I expected it." + +"Don't talk like that!" Stafford exclaimed, bringing his clenched hand +down on the table. "How dare you! Have you no sense of responsibility? +For you it was no more than a doubtful speculation, and you took care +that there were no risks; but for Marut it means--Heaven knows what it +means!" + +"Nothing!" returned Travers coolly. "Nothing to get heated about. The +Rajah feels sore, no doubt, but that will pass. And that is not my +fault. It would have been all right if Miss Cary had not--well, made +such a fool of herself, and incidentally of us all." + +Stafford gazed steadily at the man who smiled at him. He could not +understand a character so absolutely without all moral foundations. + +"You are no doubt preparing to start for Madras?" he asked, +controlling his voice with a strong effort. + +"Certainly. There is nothing more to be done here." + +"Let me tell you that you are not likely to leave Marut alive." + +Travers laughed. + +"Nonsense, my dear Captain! I am not to be frightened with nursery +tales." + +"It is not a nursery tale. I give you my word of honor that before +nightfall we shall be overwhelmed by a force a hundred times larger +than anything we can bring on the field for weeks to come." + +Travers shifted his position carelessly. Stafford had not succeeded in +frightening him. He did not believe in native rebellions. What he had +seen of the Hindu character convinced him of its fundamental +cowardice and incapability for independent action. + +"A few blank cartridges will bring the Rajah very quickly to his +senses," he assured Stafford, with perfect good-humor. "We have +nothing to be afraid of in that quarter." + +"You really think that?" Stafford demanded significantly. "Knowing +what you know, you think we have no cause to fear him?" + +Travers changed color. The uneasy flicker in his eyes returned. + +"What on earth do you mean?" + +"You know very well. You know whom we shall be fighting against." + +"Of course--a headlong, inexperienced Hindu prince--" + +"You are choosing to have a very short memory. Nehal Singh is more +than that." + +Travers stood upright. The healthy glow had died out of his cheeks. + +"Look here, Stafford," he said roughly, "what is it you want? I can +see you want something." + +"Yes. Give me back my promise. I can not keep it any longer." + +"Do you think I extort promises that I don't want kept? Are you in +earnest?" + +"Yes, terribly in earnest. Look the thing in the face, Travers. Our +lives, and, what is far more, the lives of our women and Heaven knows +how many of our countrymen, hang in the balance. If you don't believe +me, ask Nicholson." + +"I shall believe what I like!" Travers began to pace backward and +forward, his mind busy with lightning calculations. Before nightfall +they would be out of Marut. Stafford was exaggerating the danger, +perhaps for his own purposes. The whole thing was nonsense. + +"I keep you to your promise," he said obstinately. + +Stafford lifted his head. The man's natural reserve and +conventionalism were borne down by the sense of his helplessness. He +was fighting against a giant of egoism, as it seemed to him, of gross +and criminal stupidity, for the lives of untold hundreds. + +"You can not realize what you are doing," he said. "It is our one hope +of holding the Rajah's hand, and with every moment the danger is +increasing. As I came along the road I passed crowds of natives on the +way to the palace. Most of them were men from your mine, Travers, and +they had an ugly look. They did not touch me, it is true, but I +believe they are only waiting for Nehal Singh's order, and then it +will be too late. Travers, we must do everything in our power to +prevent him giving that order. I have promised Colonel Carmichael to +do what I could. At twelve I must be back, or--" + +Travers swung around. His face was livid. + +"You told him--?" + +"No, but I must. I can not keep my promise. You must set me free. I +gave it you because you told me that I was not concerned. Now I am +concerned, I dare not keep silence." + +"My dear fellow, you must--that is, if you are a man of honor." + +"Of what use is the secret to you?" + +"That is my affair. There was a time when you were anxious enough to +keep it." + +"It was for Lois' sake. The two things were bound up together. She can +not be spared any longer." + +"You think not? I am of another opinion. I put my wife's peace of mind +higher than your old-maidish alarms." Travers faced his companion with +the assurance of a man who feels that he has the whip-hand. His +experience taught him that a man of certain orthodox principles has a +very limited sphere of action. He runs in herds with hundreds of other +men of the same mould, and under given circumstances has only one +course of conduct open to him. Had Travers been in Stafford's place, +no one living could have told what he would do. But Stafford had no +choice--at least, so Travers judged. + +"You are one of honor's Pharisees, my dear fellow," he said frankly. +"You can't get out of your promise, and you know it. You cling to the +letter of the law. It is your way. You had better go back to the +Colonel and tell him to manage the Rajah in his own style." + +The clock on the table chimed the half-hour. It was ten minutes' full +gallop back to the Colonel's bungalow. Stafford set his teeth in a +white heat of despair. + +"If you have no consideration for the Station, for your own wife, for +your own country, at least consider yourself!" he exclaimed. "Are you +blind to the danger? We have scarcely fifty men, and up there are +thousands quietly waiting for the Rajah's signal. You must have seen +them with your own eyes pouring through--" + +"I saw any amount of dirty pilgrims, and got out of the way as fast as +I could," was Travers' smiling retort. + +Stafford stood baffled and helpless. For the first time he was able to +recognize and appreciate a certain type of Englishman to which he +himself to some extent belonged--an arrogant ignoramus who, encamped +behind his wall of superiority, fears nothing because he sees nothing, +and sees nothing because outside the walls there can not possibly be +anything worth looking at. Nicholson had torn down Stafford's imagined +security, and he stood aghast at his old insolent self-confidence as +reflected in Travers' smiling face. + +"To be quite honest with you," the latter went on, after a moment's +pause, "I have very little faith in our dreadful danger. Admitted that +I led the Rajah on a more than doubtful speculation, admitted that +Miss Cary went further than she need have done, it is still most +unlikely that his injured feelings are going to lead him to such a +desperate step as to enter into conflict with the whole Empire. +Believe me, Stafford, the idea is ridiculous, and I have not the least +intention of throwing up my own hard-won security--" + +It was a bad slip, and he knew it. Stafford, who had stood with his +face half averted, in an attitude of irresolution, swung round. + +"Your security?" he echoed. + +Travers shrugged his shoulders. He had made a mistake, but he saw no +reason to be afraid of Stafford or of any one in Marut. + +"I said 'my security,'" he repeated. + +Stafford clenched his fists. The expression on his gaunt, rugged face +showed that he had understood the full import of Travers' words. + +"You blackguard!" he said under his breath. + +Travers turned scarlet. + +"Mind yourself, Captain Stafford. You may find yourself outside the +door quicker than you care for it!" + +"You blackguard!" Stafford repeated furiously. "I haven't a better +name for you. You have simply humbugged me with your lies about Lois +and your devotion to her--" + +Travers strode at him. + +"How dare you!" + +"Don't bluster, Travers! It can't hide what I see. You married Lois +for her money--" + +"Hold your infernal tongue!" + +"And now you are afraid. Well, you shall have some cause." He picked +up his helmet, which lay on the table. "I gave you my promise because +you assured me it was for Lois' happiness, and I believed you. +According to my ideas, both of them were better left in ignorance. I +did not know that you had your own motives--silly fool that I am!" He +turned to hurry from the room. Travers barred his way. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"I shall tell the Colonel the truth!" + +"It will break his heart." + +"I do not believe it. Out of the way, Travers!" + +"And then?" + +"Rajah Nehal Singh shall be told." + +"Have you considered the consequences?" + +"I have." + +"Lois will be ruined!" + +"_You_ will be ruined. Lois will have my protection, thank God!" + +The two men faced each other an instant in silence. Travers' face +betrayed a curious complex emotion of desperation and shame. He had +been called a blackguard, and the word had stung like the cut of a +horse-whip. He had never believed it possible that any man should have +the right to use such a term--to him, the embodiment of geniality, +good-humor and good-nature. He did not believe even now that any +one had the right. He was not an unprincipled man--not in the sense +that he had ever consciously done wrong. He did not know what wrong +was--his one conception being an act putting him within reach of the +law; and of such an indiscretion he had never been guilty. Throughout +his scheming he had always pictured himself as a complaisant Napoleon +of finance, combining business with pleasure. His conduct toward Lois +had been based on this standpoint. He was genuinely fond of her, and is +there any law forbidding a man to lay firm hold upon his wife's money? +Yet Stafford had called him a blackguard, and Stafford was the world--the +world of respectability of which Travers had believed himself a gifted +member. For the moment the incomprehensible insult was more to him than +the coming danger to which his plans were put. + +"You look at me as though I had committed a crime!" he exclaimed, in a +tone of injured protest. + +"You have," Stafford answered steadily. "You have fooled me, playing +on my prejudices, and God knows what other weaknesses. I won't say +anything of that. I deserve my share of blame. But you have tricked +and deceived a woman. You have deceived an honorable man into a +dishonorable venture. You have brought disaster on your own country. +You are no more than a common adventurer. You are the parasite to whom +we owe all our misfortunes, and--" + +"Stafford, take care!" + +"Out of the way! I am going to put an end to it all!" + +Travers flung the excited man back. Shame is a dangerous poison in the +blood of base natures. It is merely the precursor to a state of +absolute license where self-control, self-respect are flung to the +winds and the devil is set free to work his full, unchecked will. +Travers glared at Stafford, hating his upright bearing, his upright +indignation with a violence to which murder would have been the only +true expression. + +"You are not going till I have your promise to hold your tongue!" he +said between his teeth. + +Stafford flung the other's detaining hand from him. Freed from his +laming diseased conscience, and roused to activity, he acted like a +man of lightning determination and iron will. + +"That you will never have, and you are a scoundrel to ask for it. As +you like--there are other exits than the door." He swung round and +made for the open window. + +Travers did not stop him. He stood rooted to the spot, his hand on the +revolver which he carried at his side. The revolver had not been meant +for Stafford. Travers' quick eyes had caught sight of something +creeping slowly and stealthily up the verandah steps. He had seen the +flash of a knife, and a cry of warning had rushed to his lips. The cry +was never uttered. Devil and angel fought their last battle over +Travers' drifting, rudderless nature. The word "scoundrel" had been +the devil's winning cast. + +"Go, then, and be damned to you!" Travers shrieked. + +He saw Stafford reach the verandah steps. The stalwart khaki-clad figure +was photographed on his reeling brain. He heard the clank of a sword +against the first stone step. He tried to cry out--afterward he tried +to believe that he had cried out--but it was too late. The hidden +something which had crouched behind the heavy creepers sprang up--for +a short second seemed to tower above the unconscious officer--then a +gleam of light flashed down with the black hand. Stafford flung up his +arms, swung around, and fell face downward on the verandah. There was a +short, stifled groan, and then--and then only--Travers fired. + +[Illustration: Then--and then only--Travers fired.] + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +CLEARING AWAY THE RUBBISH + + +All the night following the momentous meeting of the Marut Diamond +Company Mrs. Cary had kept to her room, the door locked against her +daughter, and had sobbed and wailed in a manner befitting the victim +of a hard and undeserved fate. + +But in reality hers was the rage of a clumsy workman who has cut +himself with his own tools. Her own child, her partner and co-worker, +had upset the erection of years. She saw themselves cast out of Marut; +she saw the desolate wandering over the earth's surface, this time +without the consolation and protection of wealth. For she knew that +Beatrice's confession was to go further. Beatrice had made the +announcement of her plans quietly but firmly as they had driven home +from the club-house. + +"To-morrow everybody shall know everything there is to know," she had +said, and had remained obdurate to all her mother's commands and +pleadings. "I do consider you. I consider you even now. I mean to save +you and myself. But this time it must be in another way. Your scheming +has only brought us into deeper trouble. We must start afresh." + +"But how? But how?" her mother had said, wringing her hands in +uncontrolled despair. "Where are we to start? How are we ever going to +make people believe in us, now we have no money?" + +"It does not matter what people believe," Beatrice had replied. "With +our money and our lies we have been building mud-hovels, and now we +are going to build palaces. That's all that matters." + +Mrs. Cary had not understood. She thought Beatrice had gone mad, and +knowing that with madness, reasoning is in vain, she shut herself up +in her room, pulled down the blinds, and believed by this ostrich-like +proceeding that she could keep off the inevitable moment when they +would have to be pulled up again and the cold, pitiless reality faced. + +But Beatrice went her way undeterred. From Stafford's bungalow she +drove to the Travers'. The place was little more than an ill-cared-for +shanty, the garden overgrown with weeds, the rooms damp, ill-aired and +badly furnished, its reputation for misfortune phenomenal. Travers had +taken it as the only bungalow to be had for such a short period as he +intended to stay in Marut, and Lois had made no objection. Her energy +and determined striving after everything that was graceful and +beautiful was systematically crushed out of sight. She never +protested, never laid any difficulties in Travers' path. She seemed to +shrink into herself and live an invisible life of her own, leaving him +to go his way. She could not help him. She could build up nothing on a +character whose foundations were of shifting sand. + +And never had she been more fully convinced of her own powerlessness +and of his absolute independence than after their brief and stormy +interview before Stafford's entry. She had felt how for a moment their +two diametrically opposed natures had faced each other. She had felt a +brief joyful satisfaction in at last coming to a hand-to-hand struggle +with him; but then, as usual, with a smile and an easy word he had +eluded her. So it had always been--so it would always be. Too late she +realized that she had thrown away her life upon a man who had no need +of her devotion. Too late she realized that all sacrifices are wasted +unless the ennobling of the sacrificer's character be considered. For +true happiness, true content and goodness can not be given. They must +be self-won, or they are no more than hothouse plants which shrivel +together in the cold blast of an east wind. Lois had sacrificed herself +to bring true happiness and content and goodness into Travers' life, +and had failed. She had failed all the more signally because she had +never loved him. She had loved Stafford--extraordinary and terrible as +it seemed to her, she still loved him. She could not root him out of her +life, and though his image was overshadowed by a greater and more noble +figure he retained his place. + +The glance they had exchanged had pierced down to the very center of +her being, and if it had revealed nothing to her it had also revealed +everything. For she knew now that the strange bond which had linked +them together from the beginning united them still. Some reckless and +unscrupulous hand had sundered them outwardly, and her instinct, +guided by a hundred significant incidents, told her whose hand it +had been. She fled to her little gloomy sitting-room, with its +worn-out, tasteless furniture and drab walls, and fought her sorrow +and despair single-handed and in her own way. She had a man's dislike +for tears--though, being a woman, they came all too easily to her--and +she fought against them now with all the strength at her command, with +all the pluck which in happier days had made her so splendid a partner +in a "losing game." She had made a disastrous mistake in her life, but +it was not too late. + +The cathedral should go on in its unseen growth, and every conquered +tear, every brave smile was a fresh stone bringing it nearer to +perfection. God be thanked for the fetishes with which the less +fortunate of us are still allowed to adorn the barren walls of our +life! The cathedral, the imaginary "sheltering-place for others," was +Lois' fetish, and the thought of it and of the strong-faced man with +whom she worked in spiritual partnership was a deep, inspiring +consolation. It stood at her right hand and helped partly to overthrow +the weight of dread and evil presentiment which had borne down upon +her all too sensitive and superstitious temperament as she had left +her husband and Stafford alone. + +Thus it was that, when the curtains of her room were suddenly parted +and Beatrice stood on the threshold, she could face the new-comer with +a calm if grave demeanor. She remembered her husband's last +injunctions, but it was too late; and moreover, there was an +expression on Beatrice's face which told her that the visit was no +ordinary one. A woman's instinct is her spiritual hand feeling through +the darkness to another's soul. Beatrice and Lois watched each other +without smile or greeting. They forgot the outward formalities of life +in the suddenly aroused interest which they found in each other, in +the consciousness that in this, their first meeting alone, they were +to become closely united. + +They were indeed striking contrasts. At no time had they seemed more +so than now, as they stood there silently facing each other--Beatrice, +tall, fair with the wonderful Madonna beauty; Lois, small and dark, +the quick and fiery temperament flashing to meet the other's dignity +and apparent calm. And yet at no time had the barrier between them +been so insignificant, so slight. Beatrice advanced slowly from the +door, where she had first hesitated. + +"May I speak with you, Mrs. Travers?" she asked. + +Lois nodded, mechanically holding out her hand. Her eyes were riveted +on the other's grave face, drinking in with a real admiration a +loveliness from which the old marring lines of mockery and cynicism +had been swept away. + +"Won't you sit down?" she said gently. "You look tired and pale." + +Beatrice seemed not to hear. She took the outstretched hand between +both her own. Her head was a little bent, and as she looked full into +Lois' face her expression softened and saddened. + +"You, too, are unhappy!" she said. + +Lois made no answer. She was overwhelmed by the directness of the +statement, but still more by the change in Beatrice's voice. It +sounded low and unsteady, as though a storm of feeling lay close +beneath the surface. "Do you wonder how I know?" Beatrice went on, +after an instant's pause. + +"I don't know," Lois answered, "and for the moment we won't talk about +such things. I can't bear to see you look so--so ill. You must sit +there and let me get you something to drink. Have you walked?" + +Beatrice yielded this time to the kindly persuasion. She sank down in +the proffered chair, but she retained Lois' hand. + +"No, I drove. But I am tired. It was not easy work getting through the +crowd. They did not seem to want to let me pass. Once or twice I +thought they were going to attack me." + +Lois laughed. + +"They are only pilgrims. They come every year, and are quite harmless. +Hark at them now! There must be a band of them going past. Would you +like to watch from the verandah? It is really amusing--" + +"No, no; this is not the time for amusement. I have something else to +do. Mrs. Travers, you are very kind to me. You have the right to hate +me." + +"I--hate you? Why should I, Beatrice?" + +"You call me Beatrice. But we have never been friends." + +"Not till now." + +"Do you think we are going to be?" + +Lois drew up a stool and seated herself at Beatrice's side. Something +in the other's firm, gentle hold and in the low voice made her heart +ache. + +"I don't know. I feel as though we were already." + +"Don't feel that, because it is not possible. Mrs. Travers, do you know +who it was who came between you and John Stafford?" Lois' head sank. +"I see that you do. Yes, I did my best. I wanted his position--and +money. Are you still my friend?" + +Lois met the grave, questioning eyes with a sudden energy. + +"Yes. That is all over and past. I like you now. I liked you the +moment you entered the room. You seemed different." + +Beatrice smiled faintly. + +"And you, too, are different from any one I have ever known. Another +woman would not have been able to forgive as you have done. I have +spoiled your life. I can see that." + +Lois pressed her hand. + +"Hush! You must not say so. I am married--" + +"Lois, I have spoiled your life. I have come here to tell you the +truth, and you also must be truthful. For pity's sake, let us put lies +and humbug on one side. I am sick of them!" For a moment she seemed to +fight desperately with herself, and then she went on more quietly: "I +have spoiled your life. I have spoiled the life of a man who trusted +me. I have spoiled my own. That is what I have done in the twenty-five +years given me to work in. I have lied and cheated my way through. And +this is the end--miserable bankruptcy." + +"Yes," Lois said, nodding. "I heard about it." + +"About what? Has your husband told you?" + +"The Marut Company has failed." + +Beatrice sat silent a moment. Her free hand supported the firmly +moulded chin, her eyes were fixed thoughtfully in front of her. + +"I did not mean that sort of bankruptcy," she said at last. "That +doesn't count, Lois. I used to think it meant the worst sort of +misfortune, but it doesn't. The inner bankruptcy is worse. The loss of +self-respect, of honor, of the trust of those one--cares for--" Again +the low voice trembled dangerously, but she went on: "Don't +commiserate with me, kind-hearted little woman. I don't need your pity +--now. Bankruptcy isn't so bad. It is better than living on false +credit. When the crash is over, one picks oneself up again. Hope is +eternal, and on the ruins--" + +"One can build cathedrals," Lois interposed dreamily. + +"Yes, or palaces. But first the old rubbish must be cleared away. One +must pay one's debts. I have very many to pay. First to you, Lois--" + +"Don't! I have told you that that is all over." + +"--and then to Captain Stafford. Lois, I did want to take him away +from you, but I never succeeded. It was something else that did +it--something which I have never understood." + +"But which my husband knows?" + +Beatrice nodded. She was not there to spare Lois or herself. She was +there to tell the truth. + +"Yes, he knows. But it is a mystery which we shall never penetrate. At +any rate, I have set Captain Stafford free." + +Lois said nothing. Her thoughts were busy trying to piece together the +secret. With every moment distrust and suspicion were taking stronger +hold upon her. + +"Lois," Beatrice went on, "that is the least of it all. The worst of +all is that I can not pay my debts alone. I must go on ruining others. +I must ruin you." + +Lois stiffened. She sat upright, as though preparing herself for a +shock which she dimly anticipated. + +"Tell me what you mean," she said. + +"You remember it was I who tempted Rajah Nehal Singh into forming the +Marut Company--" + +"That is not what you want to say. It was my husband's scheme." + +"Very well, it was our scheme, if you like. At any rate, the whole +responsibility rests--or should rest--upon our shoulders. We have +ruined him, and we have ruined hundreds of others. It is only fair +that we should bear our share of the calamity." + +"And haven't we done so? You have lost all your money. That is +punishment enough. And Archie, too--" She paused, a fierce note of +defiance ringing out with her last words. Beatrice made no answer, and +the two women looked at each other in significant silence. "You don't +mean that--that it was--dishonest?" + +"I have no doubt Mr. Travers believed the mine was going to be a +success. But it has failed, and the whole burden of the failure rests +upon others, not upon him." + +"My husband is ruined, too. All his money is gone." + +"Yours remains." + +"Yes, but--" She stammered and broke off helplessly. + +Beatrice said nothing more. She saw the process of rapid thought on +her companion's working face. She knew there was no need to explain +further the careful precautions which Travers had made for his own +safety. She knew that for his wife there was only one action possible. +Lois rose to her feet. + +"You must forgive me," she said, a new and dangerous light in her dark +eyes. "I am very slow and stupid about business matters, but I +understand what you have been trying to say to me. You have pointed +out a duty to me which otherwise, in my ignorance, I might have +overlooked. My husband has incurred responsibilities which must be +met--if not by him, at any rate by me. No third person shall take his +share of the burden--certainly not the Rajah, who was no more than the +tool which my husband used. I would be glad if you would let every one +know that of course my money will go toward refunding those whom the +failure of the mine has injured." + +Beatrice rose also. She put her two hands on Lois' shoulders. + +"You needn't do it," she said. "The money is yours. It is a thing that +is done every day. The world won't say much if you stick to what is +yours." + +"It is not mine. My husband's responsibilities are my +responsibilities." She paused, and then went on quietly: "Thank you +for explaining to me. I should never have understood myself, and +Archie--no doubt dreads having to tell me that of course my money must +go, too." She looked Beatrice full in the face, and they understood +each other. There are some lies which a loyal woman must carry with +her to the grave. Beatrice bent and kissed the cold face. + +"You do right," she said. "I knew you would. That is why I came to +you. I have helped to bring down all this misfortune on Marut. I have +helped to lower us all in the eyes of those--those who used and ought +to look up to us. Now you are going to lift us out of the mire--Lois, +what was that?" + +The two women clung to each other. Hitherto there had been no sound in +the adjoining room save the regular rise and fall of two voices. Now +the startled listeners heard the report of a revolver, followed by a +sudden, absolute silence. Lois shook herself free from Beatrice's +instinctive clutch. + +"It is in my husband's room!" she said hoarsely. "Stay here! I will +go--" + +She hurried across the room and, thrusting open a curtained door, +disappeared. The next instant Beatrice heard a cry which overcame +every hesitation. Horror and despair called her in that sound, and the +next moment she followed Lois' footsteps. She did not know what she +expected to see. Afterward she believed that at the back of her mind +there had been some thought of suicide. But it was not Travers' head +that she saw pillowed against Lois' knee. Travers stood on the +verandah, the smoking pistol still in his hand, his face livid and +damp with fear. At his feet his wife was bending over the body of a +man whom Beatrice recognized with a shock of pain. + +"What has happened?" she asked breathlessly. "What has happened?" + +Travers turned and stared at her. His eyes were glazed, and for the +moment he did not seem to know who she was. + +"Captain Stafford has--been murdered!" he stammered. "He was going +down the steps when a native attacked him. I--fired, but it was too +late. Oh, thank God! Here is Colonel Carmichael!" + +True enough, it was the Colonel himself who sprang up the verandah +steps. From beyond the ill-kept garden they heard the tramp of men and +a low, continuous sound, like the threatening moan of the wind. On the +verandah reigned a complete and awestruck silence. Colonel Carmichael +bent over the unconscious man. + +"This is the beginning," he said somberly. "How did it happen?" + +"A native must have been lying in wait for him," Travers answered. "He +struck at him with this." He held out a three-inch blade in a hand +which shook like a child's. "I tried to save him, but I couldn't. The +man escaped, though I think I hit him." + +The Colonel knelt down by Lois' side, and drawing out his brandy-flask +tried to force a few drops between the purple lips. + +"We were expecting him every minute," he said, "but we couldn't wait. +The danger was too pressing. Here, man--it's all right. Look up." + +Captain Stafford's heavy eyelids had wavered. The Colonel shifted him +into a higher position, his head still resting against Lois' knee. +When the dying eyes opened they fell straight on the sweet dark face +bent over him in loving pity. + +"Lois!" he whispered faintly. "Lois--my--kiss me!" + +Lois looked up at her husband. He nodded without meeting her eyes. Her +lips rested on the chilly forehead. + +"Dear John!" + +"Lois--you--tell the Rajah----" He struggled fiercely for breath and +his raised hand pointed piteously at Travers. "Tell him--not--his own" +--The words died into a choked silence. + +"Brandy--here! He's trying to say something. What is it, man?" + +Stafford turned with a last effort, his lips parted. A second time he +pointed with a desperate insistency at Travers--then with a sudden +quick-drawn sigh he sank back, his face against Lois' shoulder. +Colonel Carmichael, who knew death too well, rose heavily to his feet. + +"It's all over," he said. "We can do nothing more for him, and we must +leave him. Come, Lois." + +His stern command roused her from her stupor of half-incredulous +sorrow. Gently she laid the lifeless head upon the cushions which +Beatrice had brought, and crossed the hands over the quiet breast. +This time she fought in vain against the blinding tears. They fell on +the face of the dead man, and, moved by an irresistible impulse, she +bent once more and kissed him. + +"God bless you, John!" Then she rose and faced her husband. "I can not +help it," she said. "He is dead." + +Travers said nothing. He was clinging to the verandah, and his face +was grey. Outside the noise and confusion had increased. They could +hear yells and imprecations, and a stone whizzed through the trees, +falling a few feet short of where the little party stood. Colonel +Carmichael shook Travers by the arm. + +"Don't stand there like that!" he said, his voice rough with contempt. +"It can't be helped, and I dare say we shan't any of us be much better +off by to-morrow. I have a patrol outside waiting to take the ladies +over to my bungalow. Mrs. Cary and Mrs. Berry are already there. There +isn't a moment to be lost. Rouse yourself and look to Lois. I will +escort Miss Cary." He turned to Beatrice with a stiff bow. "The enemy +must at least find us united." + +"The enemy!" exclaimed Beatrice sharply. + +"The Rajah is our enemy," was the bitter answer. "You and Travers best +know why." + +The two women exchanged one brief glance. Lois crossed the intervening +space and took her husband's arm. + +"Archibald," she said, slowly and emphatically, "if this trouble has +anything to do with the mine, it would be well to let the Rajah know +that we also take our share. There must be no suspicion that--that we +have not acted honorably or have shirked our responsibilities." + +He stared at her with dull, listless eyes. + +"What do you mean, Lois? He knows I haven't a brass cent." + +"But I have. And of course my money must go to refund those whom you +have unintentionally ruined." + +That roused him. He flung her on one side, with a desperate, goaded +curse. + +"Your money! How dare you! It's not your money. Half of it is mine. I +settled it on you." + +"If it is yours, I will give it back to you. You will use it as I say. +If not, I shall use it for you." + +Colonel Carmichael had reached the garden. He turned now, and there +was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. + +"That's spoken like an honorable woman, Lois!" he said. "God bless you +for it. But it's too late. Nicholson has already gone to Nehal Singh. +If he fails, there won't be any time to explain. Come on, or we shall +have to fight our way through." + +He hurried on through the garden, Beatrice at his side. Husband and +wife stood an instant alone, the body of poor Stafford between them. +Lois' face was grave and contemptuous. + +"I do not know what you have done," she said--"I do not understand +what part you played in John's life or in mine, nor how far you are +innocent or guilty of bringing about all this misfortune--but I know +this much--we shall take our share of trouble." + +"Lois, you are my wife! You have no right to go against me." + +"I have the right where my honor--where your honor--is concerned. I +have the right to refuse to commit an act of gross injustice." She +glanced down once more at the quiet face of the man who had held so +persistently upon her life and heart, and her firmly compressed lips +trembled. "Oh, Archie, was it worth while--just for a little bit of +gain? Was it worth while? We might all have been so happy!" + +He said nothing. His rage had sunk into a sullen, dogged defiance. The +roar of voices beyond the compound suddenly subsided. They heard the +Colonel's voice issuing a sharp command and the thud of grounded +rifles. + +"We must go," she said. + +He followed her down the steps, his face painfully averted from the +figure that lay motionless upon the ground. The world is but a +reflection of ourselves. The sunshine is sad or joyful according to +our moods. We read threats and promises in the smiles of others as our +own heart is hopeful or distrusting. And for Travers, with the +bloodstained hand, the poor lifeless body of his enemy had become the +towering shadow of an approaching Nemesis. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN THE TEMPLE OF VISHNU + + +Nicholson rode his horse slowly through the crowd of dark, threatening +faces. He did not hurry or show any sign of impatience, anger or fear. +In his left hand he carried a riding-whip, but he made no use of it +except as an encouragement to his well-trained charger, whose nose and +broad breast forced a passage, like a ship through the waves of a +turbulent sea, and otherwise he was absolutely unarmed. A spectator +ignorant of the truth might have taken him for an officer riding out +on some ordinary duty, so little did the weight and seriousness of his +real errand appear written on the strong face beneath the shadow of +the helmet. + +There was no opposition to his progress. His keen eyes noticed as he +passed out of the residential quarter that, on the contrary, the crowd +formed a sort of disordered escort which surged restlessly but +silently about him. One man even laid hold upon his hanging bridle and +led the horse through the less dense passages; but the action was not +a friendly one, and though no threats were uttered, Nicholson read a +passionate bitterness and distrust upon the faces that thrust +themselves across his path or sprang up unexpectedly at his knee. For +the most part they were men well known to him by sight. They belonged +to working caste whose circles had supplied Nehal Singh with his best +workmen, though here and there Nicholson caught sight of the turbaned +head of a small merchant or the naked body of a yogi. + +It was a significant fact that the worst of Marut's population--the +beggars, thieves and vagrants--was mostly lacking. These men were the +hope upon which Nehal Singh had built his Utopia, the industrious, +intelligent minority, and these were they whom he was now calling +about him by the power of personality and superstition. Nicholson knew +enough of the Hindu character to be well aware that it was not the +loss of employment nor of their small savings which had brought them +together and put their knives in their hands ready to strike. The +Hindu accepts misfortune with the languid stoicism of the fatalist; +injury and wrong rarely rouse him, especially, as in this case, when +it comes too indirectly for him to trace the real injurer. But to +touch his religion is to touch the innermost sanctuary of his being, +where are stored the hidden fires of fanatic energy, hatred and +reckless courage. And Nehal Singh was their religion, their Messiah, +the Avatar for whose coming their whole nation waited. Hitherto he had +led them in peace, and they had followed, though other influences had +been at work. + +Even in this moment he still controlled them. Nicholson felt that a +strong unseen hand held the crowd in that strange silence beneath +which rumbled and groaned the growing storm. He had seen dark hands +finger the unsheathed knives; he had seen them reluctantly fall away. +The hour had not yet come. Nehal Singh waited. For what? For him? The +idea seemed absurd, and yet, as Nicholson felt himself being swept on, +it took stronger hold upon his mind and his faint hope of success +revived. He believed that, once face to face with the prince, he would +be able to check the headlong disaster which was bearing down upon +them all. They had been friends in a curious unacknowledged way. Nehal +Singh would listen to him. He would be made to understand that one +adventurer and one heartless woman do not make a nation; that the +injury done him was far from irreparable. + +A low exclamation close at hand roused him from his rapid +considerations. He saw that the man who had hold of his horse's bridle +had turned and with one outstretched hand was pointing over the heads +of the crowd. + +"Look, Sahib, look!" + +Nicholson glanced in the direction indicated. They were passing the +site of the old Bazaar, now a black, scarred waste of machinery and +disembowelled earth over which brooded a death-like quiet. Nicholson +remembered vividly the day he had ridden there at Nehal Singh's side. +A breathless, eager humanity had worked and slaved beneath the +scorching sun, redoubling every effort as the fine commanding presence +of the young ruler appeared among them. Then the clank of busy +machinery had mingled with the shouted orders of the English +overseers, and Nehal Singh had turned to him with a grave pride and +happiness. + +"See what your people have taught my people," he said. "They have +taught them to seek their bread from the earth and to leave their +dreams. This is only the beginning. The time shall come when they +shall stand shoulder to shoulder with their white brethren!" + +How had the over-sanguine prophecy been fulfilled! The native at +Nicholson's side pointed a finger of scorn and anger at the silent, +ruined waste. + +"Devil--English devil!" he said laconically, and continued on his way. + +Nicholson's lips tightened. His own words came back to him with a new +significance: "In a strange country no one is an exception." This +Travers, this one unscrupulous fortune-hunter, heedless of everything +save his own advancement, had branded them all. He had undone, with +the help of a heedless woman, the work of generations of heroic, +honest labor. Truly the chain of individual responsibility is a long +one! + +Nicholson had left Colonel Carmichael's bungalow at twelve o'clock. +The increasing crowd and Stafford's prolonged absence had urged him to +instant and independent action. In the best of cases, he had little +faith in the brother-officer's secret mission. Stafford was not the +man to exert any influence over the native mind. He was the type of +the capable and well-meaning English officer who, excellent leader in +his own country, is of small use when face to face with Indian +problems of character and prejudice. Nicholson had judged himself the +better advocate, and having obtained the Colonel's reluctant +permission, he had at once started for the royal palace. But his +progress had been painfully slow, and he had made no effort to hurry. + +Any sign of anxiety or excitement would have looked like fear to the +suspicious, hate-filled eyes of the men who swarmed about him, and +whatever else happened, they should not see an Englishman afraid. The +knowledge that he rode there alone, the representative of his nation, +added a greater dignity, a greater firmness to his already calm and +upright bearing. It was no new situation for him--it is never an +exceptional situation in a country where Englishmen are always in the +minority--and it inspired him, as it had always done since his +earliest lieutenant days. He knew that as he acted, looked, and spoke, +so would the image of his country be stamped upon the minds of a +hundred thousand and their children's children. There was no vanity, +no self-importance in this conception of his duty. It was a stern, +unbending acceptance of his responsibility; and as in the lonely fort +upon the frontier where he had dominated, unaided, month after month, +over wild, antagonistic races, so now, unarmed and unprotected, he +dominated over the fanatic rabble by the pure force of a complete +personality. He was to all intents and purposes their prisoner, but he +rode there as their conqueror; and that most splendid triumph of all +triumphs--the unseen victory of will over will--filled him with a new +confidence and hope. + +Yet it was three o'clock before he reached the palace gates. It seemed +to him that they had deterred his progress for some unknown purpose, +and the thought of those he had left behind caused him profound +uneasiness. Native treachery was proverbial, and no doubt Nehal Singh +felt himself justified in any conduct that seemed wise to him. In any +case, there was no return. The crowd in front of Nicholson sank back +like a receding tide as he rode through the open gates and then closed +in behind, following in one dense stream as he proceeded slowly up the +splendid avenue. He felt now that he was in the hands of destiny. +Through the trees he caught sight of the palace steps where Nehal +Singh had stood the night before. No living soul moved. The whole +world seemed to have concentrated itself behind him, a grim and silent +force which was sweeping him onward--to what end he could not tell. + +Suddenly the native who still held his horse's bridle lifted his hand +as he had done before and pointed ahead. + +"Look, Sahib!" he cried. "Look!" + +Nicholson made no sign. He retained his easy attitude, one hand +loosely holding the reins, the other with the riding-whip resting +negligently on his hip. There was no change in his bronzed face: his +eyes took in the scene which an abrupt turn in the road revealed to +him with a steadfast calm, though his pulses had begun to beat +furiously. It was as though a painter with two strokes of a mighty +brush had smeared the square before the temple with a great moving +stain. Only one narrow white line reached up to the temple doorway. On +either side, right up to the gopuras and stretching far away down the +branching paths, a living mass stood and waited, their faces turned +toward him. Pilgrims they might have been, but he saw in the foremost +row men with their dark hands clasped over the muzzles of their +rifles, and every here and there the sunlight flashed back a +reflection from the cold steel at their sides. They made no sound as +he rode between them; only a soft shuffling behind him told him that +the human wall was closing in. He did not turn. His eyes passed calmly +over the watching faces, and the hands that played at their +dagger-hilts fell away as though the piercing gaze had paralyzed them. +Thus he reached the temple, where he dismounted. + +No one had told him, but he well understood that this was his +destination, and with a firm step passed into the inner court. For an +instant the sudden change from brilliant daylight to an almost +complete darkness dazzled him. He saw nothing but a moving shadow +intermingled with points of fire that glowed steadily in two long rows +up to the altar, where fell a single ray of golden sunshine. Helmet in +hand, he moved slowly forward, every nerve strung taut with suspense. +As his eyes grew accustomed to the curious half-light, he saw that the +unreal shadows were men grouped on either side behind rows of +torch-bearers. The red flare fell on their fixed, unmoved faces, and +threw weird shadows backward and forward among the massive pillars +whose capitals faded into the intensified gloom overhead. There was no +other movement, no other sound save Nicholson's own footsteps, which +echoed loud and threatening in that petrified silence. On the altar +itself a Holy Lamp burned steadily, and behind, half obliterated by a +lonely, upright figure, the great three-headed god stretched out +ghost-like arms into the sunshine that descended in a narrow ladder of +pure light to mingle with the altar fire. + +Nicholson moved on. At the altar steps he came to a halt and waited. +The figure did not stir nor seem to be aware of his presence. A +torch-bearer knelt on the lower step, and the fiery deflection threw +into plastic relief the set and pitiless features beneath the jeweled +turban. Gone was the old simplicity. The hands that lay clasped one +upon the other on the splendid scimitar were loaded with gems, and +from the turban a single diamond sparkled starlike in the changing +light. A splendid and romantic figure, truly; harmonizing with and +dominating over the mysterious background. But it was not the +splendor, nor even the stern tragedy written on the worn and haggard +face, which caused Nicholson to feel a cold hand grasp at his bold +self-confidence. It was the sudden intuitive realization that here the +battle began. He was no longer the master personality towering over a +hydra-headed multitude. Here it was a man against a man, will against +will, despair against despair. + +"Hail, Rajah Sahib!" he said in Hindustani. "Hail!" + +His voice had echoed into silence before Nehal Singh moved. Then he +lifted his hand in greeting. + +"Hail, Englishman!" + +"You know me," Nicholson went on, drawing nearer. "I am Nicholson, +Captain Nicholson of the--Gurkhas." + +"I do not know you." There was a pitiless finality in the few words +and in the gesture which accompanied them. + +Nicholson lifted his head to the light. + +"Nehal Singh, you lie. I was and am your friend." + +He heard a stir behind him, and his instinct, doubly sharpened, felt +how a dozen hands had flown to their weapons. Then again there was +silence. His eyes had not flinched in their challenge. + +"I have no friends among traitors and cowards." + +The insult left Nicholson calm. Something in the tone in which the +words were uttered, something that rang more like a broken-hearted +despair than contempt, touched him profoundly. + +"Thou hast the power to say so, Rajah," he answered quietly. "I am +alone and unarmed." + +The reproach went home to its mark. He saw the Rajah's hand tighten on +the sword-hilt and a deeper shadow pass over the handsome features. + +"Thou art right," Nehal Singh said. "I have misused my power, and that +I will not do. Whilst thou art here thou needst fear neither insult +nor danger." + +"I fear neither," was the answer. A bitter, scornful smile lifted the +corners of the set lips. + +"So thou sayest." Then, with a gesture of impatience, he went on: +"Thou hast sought me here, and it is well. I also have sought thee, +for I have a message that thou shalt carry from me to thy people. Wilt +thou bear it?" + +"Bear it thyself, Rajah, to the people with whom thou hast lived in +honor and friendship." + +"In deceit and treachery!" Nehal Singh retorted, frowning. "But enough +of that. Wilt thou bear my message?" + +"If it must be--yes." + +"It must be. Tell them first that every bond that linked us is broken. +Tell them not to count on what has been. What has been is not +forgotten, but it is written on my heart in fire and blood--it has +crossed out love and respect, pity and mercy." + +"Rajah--" + +"Hear me to the end, Englishman! I am not here to waste words with +thee--henceforward my acts shall be my words. But thou shalt not go +back and say that it is ambition or a mean revenge which has drawn my +sword from its sheath. It is not that." He paused, and the hand which +he had raised to cut short Nicholson's interruption sank slowly back +upon his sword-hilt. Then he went on, and his low-pitched voice +penetrated into the farthest corner of the silent temple: "Sahib, I +loved thy people. I loved them for their past, for their courage, +their justice, their greatness. In my boy's mind they were the heroes +of the world, and as such I worshiped them. No poison could kill my +love--it seemed a part of me, the innermost part of my soul--and when +for the first time I stood before them, face to face, it was as though +I lived, as though I had awakened from a dream. Be patient, +Englishman, for you of all others must understand that there is for me +no turning back, no yielding. Great love is sister to a greater hate, +respect to scorn. I came among you, inexperienced save in dreams, a +believing boy--fool if you will, whose folly received its punishment. +The outside of the platter was fair enough to have deceived those +wiser than I, Sahib. There were lovely women with the faces of angels, +and tall men, honest-eyed and brave-tongued. But the outside was a +lie--a lie!" He lifted his hand again in a sudden storm of tortured +passion. "The women are wantons--the men tricksters--" + +"Rajah!" The stern warning passed, but not unheeded. + +"Thou art hurt and stung," Nehal said, in a low, shaken voice. "The +truth wounds thee! For me--it was death." He hesitated again, fighting +for his self-control. "Sahib, great things are expected of a great +people. Others may cheat and swindle, others may lie and blaspheme +with God's holy secrets, others may seek their pleasures in the +earth's mire, but _they_ must stand apart. They must bear forward the +banner of righteousness, or their greatness is no more than an empty +sound--a bubble which the first bold enemy may prick. Perchance I +blinded myself wilfully, perchance I stopped my ears. The platter was +fair to my eyes, the falsehood rang like truth. Now I know. I know +that the past is all that is left you--you are a fair seeming behind +which is decay and corruption. Were I another, I would take my broken +faith to the darkest corner of the jungle and eat out my life in +despair and sorrow. But I have another task before me--my duty to my +people." + +"And that duty, Rajah--?" + +"A great people must rule mine," was the high answer. "I thought you a +great people, and I used my strength, my wealth and influence to +further your power. But you are not worthy. Who are you that dare to +assume authority over millions--you who can not rule yourselves, you +who idle away your lives in folly and self-seeking? Well may you crown +yourselves with the laurels which your fathers won! You have none of +your own--and see to it that those faded emblems from a high past are +not snatched from your palsied fingers. I at least have flung from me +a yoke which I despise. Parasites shall not feast upon my country!" + +A low murmur arose from the serried ranks and grew and deepened as +Nicholson retorted passionately: + +"Thou canst not measure thyself against an Empire!" + +"Empire against Empire!" + +"Marut is no Empire!" + +"All India shall answer me!" + +At another moment Nicholson might have smiled at so vain a boast, but +it did not seem to him vain as he faced that towering figure. There +was destiny written in the blazing eyes. So might a prophet have +called upon his nation--so might a nation, inspired by an absolute +belief, have answered him as this swaying crowd answered--with wild, +triumphant shouts. + +"We follow thee, Anointed One! Lead us, for thou art Vishnu, thou art +God!" + +"Thou hearest!" Nehal Singh said, turning to Nicholson. + +"I hear," the Englishman answered significantly. "And I know, as thou +knowest, that it is a lie. Thou art not God. Thou art a Christian." + +"No longer. How shall I believe in a God whose disciples mock His +commandments?" His voice became inaudible in the suddenly increased +confusion. + +The next instant, the torch-bearers, who guarded the open space around +the two men, were thrust violently on one side, and with a wild +scream, which rang high above the uproar, a half-naked figure rushed +up the steps and with outspread arms stood like an evil phantom at +Nehal's side. + +"He is dead!" he shrieked. "He is dead! I killed him--my knife it was +that killed him--the son of the Devil Stafford is dead--my enemy is +dead!" He swung around toward the light, his arms still raised and +Nicholson recognized, with a start of repulsion, Behar Singh's +triumphant, distorted features. "Kill!" he shrieked again. "Kill them +all, son--son--of--the--so is my revenge--". The harsh, grating voice +cracked like a steel blade that has been snapped in half. For a +breathing space Behar Singh stood there, drawn to his full height; +then he reeled and rolled with a heavy thud to the lowest step, where +he lay motionless, his grinning face frozen into a look of diabolical +joy. A slow oozing stream of blood crept over the white marble to +Nicholson's feet. The voices died into silence. Nicholson and Nehal +Singh faced each other over the dead body. + +"Thou seest," Nehal Singh said. "There is no turning back." + +"No, there is no turning back." The Englishman drew himself upright. +The light of unchangeable resolution illuminated his face and made +him, unarmed and dressed in the rigid simplicity of his uniform, a +fine and impressive contrast to the brilliant bearing of his opponent. +"Not that"--pointing to Behar Singh and speaking in clear, energetic +English--"not that has made retreat impossible. It was already +impossible before. Nehal Singh, I came here to plead with you. I +respected you and pitied you too much to allow you to bring disaster +upon yourself without an effort to save you. You say you came among us +inexperienced save in dreams. It is true. Only a dreamer could have +hoped to find perfection. We are a great people, Rajah; we have always +been great, and we shall always be. + +"And if there be corruption among us, it shall be weeded out. In times +of peace, vice and folly grow fast. Scoundrels, idlers, boasters and +fools grow side by side with prosperity; they are the weeds which +spring up on an over-cultivated soil. But war is the uprooting time of +corruption, it is the harvest-time of what is best and noblest in a +people. And that time has come. You, like your father, have learned to +despise and hate us. Perhaps you are right. You have mingled with the +scum which rises to the surface of still waters. The scum shall be +cleared away, and if it costs us the lives of our greatest, it will +not be at too high a price. We as well as you need the bitter lesson +which only disaster can teach us. We shall see our weakness face to +face, we shall root out our weeds and start afresh. You and the whole +world shall see that the soil is still rich with honor." + +A change so rapid that it was scarcely noticeable passed over the +Hindu's face. It would have been a flash of hope but for the +contradiction of the scornfully curved lips. + +"My belief is dead, Sahib." + +"It must live again." + +"Would to God that were possible!" Suddenly he leaned forward and +spoke hurriedly and in English. "Captain Nicholson, there shall be no +treachery. This is not a mutiny as in the past--it is war. And war is +between men. See that--your women are brought into safety. I give you +till midnight." + +"They can not go alone." + +Nehal Singh laughed sneeringly. + +"It is not your lives that I seek. Go with your women. No harm shall +be done you. Make good your escape, for I swear that after midnight I +shall lead my people against their enemies, and he who falls into +their hands need not hope for mercy." + +"And I also swear an oath, Rajah Nehal Singh! Not one of us will leave +Marut. The men will remain at their posts, and the women will stand by +them." + +"You are throwing away your lives." + +"They will not be thrown away. They will prove at least that I have +not boasted." + +For an instant the two men watched each other in momentous silence, as +two wrestlers each seeking to measure the other's strength. Then Nehal +Singh raised his hand in dismissal. + +"It is well, Englishman. If you have not indeed boasted, we shall meet +again." + +"We shall meet again, Rajah Sahib." + +Nicholson swung round on his heel. The crowd behind him fell back, and +with a rapid step, neither glancing to the right nor left, he strode +out of the temple into the fading sunshine. His horse was still held +in waiting, and he mounted instantly. Erect in his saddle, he faced +the frowning multitude, then rode forward, as he had come, without +haste, holding their passions in check by his own high, fearless +bearing. + +The highroad was empty as he passed through the gates. The enemy lay +behind. He set spurs to his horse and galloped headlong toward Marut. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FACE TO FACE + + +Mrs. Carmichael turned up the light with a steady hand. Her gaunt, +harsh features were expressionless. + +"Well, what news, Captain Nicholson?" she said. "You can say it +outright. I am not afraid." She turned as she spoke and looked around +her. "Are your nerves strong enough, Mrs. Berry? If not, pull yourself +together. We can only die once, and there's nothing to whimper about." + +Mrs. Berry, who sat cowering in the corner of the sofa, lifted her +grey face. The clumsy lips tried to move, but no sound came forth +except an inarticulate murmur. Mrs. Carmichael shrugged her shoulders +as one does at an irresponsible child. "Well?" she repeated. + +Nicholson came farther into the room, so that he stood within the +circle of lamp-light. In a rapid glance he had taken in the occupants, +and their attitudes were to him what symptoms are to a quick-sighted +doctor. Mrs. Cary sat in an arm-chair, bolt upright, her hands clasped +before her, her small eyes fixed straight ahead. Beatrice stood at her +side, almost in an attitude of protection, pale, but otherwise calm +and apparently indifferent. As he had entered, Lois had been preparing +some food at a side table. She now came closer, and her dark, serious +eyes rested penetratingly on his face, so that he felt that, even if +he had thought of deceiving them as to the true state of affairs, it +would have been in vain as far as she was concerned. As for Mrs. +Carmichael, she stood in her favorite position--her arms akimbo, her +chin tilted at an angle which lent her whole expression something +bulldog and defiant. The atmosphere of danger with which the little +drawing-room was filled acted differently upon each temperament, but +upon this typical soldier's wife the effect was to arouse in her all +the primitive passions, the fighting instinct, the love of struggle +against heavy odds. + +"Come!" she exclaimed, as Nicholson still remained silent. "Do you +think, because one or two of us are a bit 'nervy', that we are really +afraid? Not in the least. For my part, if I've got to die, I shall +take good care that one or two of those black heathen come with me!" +She flung open a drawer, and, taking out a revolver, thumped it +energetically upon the table. "Now then, Captain!" + +"My dear lady, I never doubted your courage," Nicholson answered, "and +my news is not so hopeless as you suppose. I spoke with Nehal Singh." +He saw Beatrice start and glance in his direction with an expression +of sudden suspense in her fine eyes. "What he said left me no option. +There could be no idea of coming to terms. At the same time it seems +that he has no desire for a general massacre. His sole ambition is to +drive us out of the country. He has given us till midnight to +escape--those who want to." + +"Does he think we are going to be got rid of as easily as that?" Mrs. +Carmichael broke in. "Do you think that I have forgotten those months +when George was fighting around Marut? Do you think I have forgotten +all the fine fellows that laid down their lives to take the place and +put an end to the disgrace of being held at bay by a horde of heathen? +And now we are to run away like sheep? Not if George listens to me!" + +"You need have no fear," Nicholson answered. "Not a man of us is going +to leave Marut alive. But you ladies--" + +"Well, what about us 'ladies'?" in a tone as though the description +had been an insult. + +"I have just told you--Nehal Singh gives you till midnight to get +away." + +Mrs. Carmichael snapped her lips together in a straight, +uncompromising line. + +"Very much obliged to His Highness, I'm sure, but I stay with the +regiment," she said. + +Nicholson could not repress a smile at this description of her +husband, but there was something more than amusement in his +brightening eyes. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael, I knew that would be your answer. But it +is my duty to ask the others--to give them their choice. There is +little hope for those who remain." He could not bring himself to turn +to the cowering figure upon the sofa. There is a shame which is not +personal, and he was passionately ashamed for that quivering bulk of +fear, for that greedy hope which he felt rather than saw creep up into +the livid face. He looked at Lois. Her head was lifted and the fiery +enthusiasm which spoke out of every line of the small dark face +transformed her from a saddened woman back to the girl who never +played a losing game but she won it, point by point, by pluck and +daring. + +"If I shan't be a bother, I wish to stay with you all," she said with +studied simplicity. But her tone was eloquent. + +"A brave comrade is always welcome," he answered. "Your husband--" He +hesitated, and then concluded in a low voice: "Your husband offered to +go with you. He is waiting outside with the horses." He avoided her +eyes, but her tone betrayed to him the pain that he had unwillingly +caused her. + +"Please tell Archie that I will not let him sacrifice himself for me. +I know that he will wish to remain, and I, too, wish to remain. We are +all English, and who knows how little or how much we are all to blame +for this disaster? We must share it together." + +Something like a sigh of relief passed Nicholson's compressed lips, +but he said nothing. In duty bound, he dared not offer encouragement +nor plead for the fulfillment of his hopes. With mixed feelings he +turned to Beatrice. Possessed as he now was of all the details of her +conduct, he could not but lay at her door the consequences of a +frivolous and heartless action. But her pitiless self-denunciation at +the meeting, her present quiet and dignity, subdued in him all scorn +and anger. Courage saluted courage as their eyes met. + +"And you, Miss Cary?" + +"Lois has already answered for me," she said. "If there was any +justice in this world, I alone should suffer; but one can never suffer +alone, it seems. The least I can do is to stand by you all." Her tone +revealed all the remorse and suffering of which human nature is +capable. It stirred in him a sudden impulsive pity. He crossed the +room with outstretched hand. + +"You are a brave woman." + +She smiled bitterly, but the color rushed to her cheeks. + +"Thank you. You have paid me the only compliment for which I care. But +it is a small thing to take one's punishment without crying. After +all, death isn't the worst." + +She saw him glance doubtfully at her mother, and she bent down to the +frozen face, speaking now gently but distinctly, as though to a +suffering invalid whose ears had been dulled with pain. + +"Mother, what do you want to do? There is still time--and Captain +Nicholson says there is no hope for those who remain. You must not be +influenced by my choice." + +Mrs. Cary looked up into her daughter's face with a perplexed frown. +She seemed scarcely to have heard what had been said to her, not even +to have been aware that any escape was possible. She felt for +Beatrice's hand, and taking it in her own, stroked it with pathetic +helplessness. + +"A bad mother!" she said absently. "Well, perhaps I was. Yes, no +doubt--and you think so, too, though you never said anything. It was +always position I wanted. Now it's all gone. What is it, dear? Why do +you look at me like that? I haven't said what I oughtn't, have I?" + +"No, no. Only Captain Nicholson wants to know--will you stay or go? We +could get some of the servants to go with you. You will be safe then." + +Mrs. Cary shook her head. + +"Are you--what are you going to do?" + +A childish smile twisted the heavy face. + +"I'd like to stay with you, Beaty. We have always stuck together, +haven't we?" She lay back with her head against Beatrice's shoulder. +"You always were so clever, Beaty. I'm sure it will be all right. +You'll see your poor mother through." The eyelids sank; she dropped +into a drowse of complete mental and physical breakdown, and for a +moment no one spoke. Mrs. Carmichael had shifted from her defiant +attitude, and her hard, set face expressed a grim satisfaction not +unmixed with pity. + +"Now, Mrs. Berry, what about you?" she said. "Captain Nicholson has +wasted enough time with you women. You must make up your mind--if +you've got one," she concluded, in a smothered undertone. + +Mrs. Berry drew herself up from her cowering position. Her teeth were +still chattering with terror, but Nicholson saw that the crisis of +panic was over. There was a curious look of obstinate resolve on the +usually weak and silly face. + +"If all the men are remaining, I suppose my husband remains, too?" she +asked. + +"Yes; he is helping Colonel Carmichael with the defenses." + +Wonderful indeed are the _volte-faces_ of which a character is +capable! Nicholson, to whom human nature was a book of revelations, +watched with a sense almost of awe this mean, petty and brainless +woman, who a moment before had been whimpering with fear, smooth out +her skirts and arrange her hair as though death were not sitting at +her elbow. + +"I am sure," she said, in a sharp voice which still trembled, "I can +do what Mrs. Cary can do. I shall stay--please tell Percy so, with my +love. And I should like to see him if possible before the end." + +Nicholson bowed to her, and for the first time in their acquaintance +the salute had a genuine significance. + +"I am proud to have such countrywomen!" he said, and then added in a +low tone as he passed Lois: "The cathedral is nearly finished." + +She nodded. + +"It could not have been better finished," she said bravely. "And you +see I was right--when there is a noble building in the midst of them, +people grow ashamed of their mud-huts. They pull them down and begin +their own cathedrals--even when it is too late." + +His eyes wandered instinctively toward the woman on the couch. + +"Yes, you were quite right." He went to the curtained doorway, where +he found Mrs. Carmichael waiting for him, a quaint figure enough with +her sleeves rolled back, her skirts tucked up above her ankles, the +revolver stuck brigand-wise in her belt. + +"I'm coming with you," she said coolly. "I can shoot as straight as +most of you, and a good deal better than George. I might be of some +use." + +"You would be of use anywhere," he returned sincerely, "but, if I may +say so, you will be of more use here. Your courage will help the +others. As for us, we have fifty of my Gurkhas, and they will do all +that can be done. I will let you know what is happening. At present +you are safest here." + +She sighed. + +"Very well. And if any one is hurt, send him around. I have plenty of +bandages." + +"Yes, of course." + +It was a merely formal offer and acceptance. Both knew that it would +be scarcely worth while to bandage men already in their full health +and strength marked out for death. Nicholson went out, closing the +door after him, and once more an absolute stoic silence fell upon the +little company. In moments of crisis, it is the strict adherence to +the habits of a lifetime which keeps the mind clear and the nerve +firm. Lois went on quietly preparing some sandwiches, which in all +probability would never be eaten, and Mrs. Carmichael resigned martial +occupation for the cutting-out of a baby's pinafore for an East-end +child whom she had under her special patronage. But her mind was +active and, stern, self-opinionated martinet that she was, she could +not altogether crush the regrets that swarmed up in this last +reckoning up of her life's activity. Better had her charity and +interest been centered on the dirty little children whom she had +indignantly tolerated on her compound! Better for them all would it +have been had each one of them sought to win the love and respect of +the subject race! Then, perhaps, they would not have been deserted in +this last hour of peril. + +Mrs. Carmichael glanced at Beatrice Cary with a fresh pricking of +conscience. What, after all, had she done to deserve the chief +condemnation? She had played with fire. Had they not all played with +fire? She had looked upon a native as a toy fit to play with, to break +and throw away. Did they not all, behind their seeming tolerance and +Christian principles, hide an equal depreciation? Was she even as bad +as some? How many men revealed to their syces their darkest moods, +their lowest passions? How many women were to their ayahs subjects for +contemptuous Bazaar gossip. They were all to blame, and this was the +harvest, the punishment for the neglect of a heavy responsibility. The +thought that she had been unjust was iron through Mrs. Carmichael's +soul, for above all things she prided herself on her fairness. She +pushed her work away and went over to Beatrice's side. Mrs. Cary's +head still rested against the aching shoulder, and Mrs. Carmichael +made a sign to let her improvize a cushion substitute. Beatrice shook +her head. + +"No, thank you," she whispered, glancing down at the flushed, sleeping +face. "We have done each other so little real service that I am glad +to be able to do even this much. I don't suppose it will be for long. +How quiet everything is!" + +Mrs. Carmichael looked at the clock on the writing-table. + +"It is not yet midnight," she said. "Probably the Rajah is keeping his +promise." Her expression relaxed a little. "Don't tire yourself," she +added bruskly to Mrs. Berry, who had been fanning the unconscious +woman's face with an improvized paper fan. "I don't think she feels +the heat." + +The missionary's wife continued her good work with redoubled energy. +It was perhaps one of the few really unselfish things which she had +ever done in the course of a pious but fundamentally selfish life, and +it gave her pleasure and courage. The knowledge that some one was +weaker than herself and needed her was new strength to her new-born +heroism. + +"It is so frightfully hot," she said half apologetically. "Why isn't +the punkah-man at work?" + +"The 'punkah-man' has bolted with the rest of them," Mrs. Carmichael +answered. "I dare say I could work it, though I have never tried." + +"It is hardly worth while to begin now," Beatrice observed, and this +simple acknowledgment that the end was at hand received no +contradiction. + +Once again the silence was unbroken, save for the soft swish of the +fan and Mrs. Cary's heavy, irregular breathing. Yet the five women who +in the full swing of their life had been diametrically opposed to one +another were now united in a common sympathy. Death, far more than a +leveler of class, is the melting-pot into which are thrown all +antagonisms, all violent discords of character. The one great fact +overshadows everything, and the petty stumbling-blocks of daily life +are forgotten. More than that still--it is the supreme moment in man's +existence when the innermost treasures or unsuspected hells are +revealed beyond all denial. And in these five women, hidden in two +cases at least beneath a mass of meanness, selfishness and +indifference, there lay an unusual power of self-sacrifice and pity. +Death was drawing near to them all, and their one thought was how to +make his coming easier for the other. When the silence grew +unbearable, it was Mrs. Carmichael who had the courage to break it +with a trivial criticism respecting the manner in which Lois was +making the sandwiches. + +"You should put the butter on before you cut them," she said tartly, +"and as little as possible. I'm quite sure it has gone rancid, and +then George won't touch them. He is so fussy about the butter." + +Mrs. Berry looked up. The perspiration of physical fear stood on her +cold forehead, but her roused will-power fought heroically and +conquered. + +"And, please, would you mind making one or two without butter?" she +said. "Percy says all Indian butter is bad. Of course, it's only an +idea of his, but men are such faddy creatures, don't you think?" + +"They wouldn't be men if they weren't--" Mrs. Carmichael had begun, +when she broke off, and the scissors that had been snipping their way +steadily through the rough linen jagged and dropped on the table. She +picked them up immediately and went on with an impatient exclamation +at her own carelessness. But the involuntary start had coincided with +a loud report from outside in the darkness, and a smothered scream. + +Lois put down her knife. + +"Won't you come and help me?" she said to Beatrice. "Your mother will +not notice that you have gone." + +Beatrice nodded, and letting the heavy head sink back among the +cushions, came over to Lois' side. + +"How brave you are!" she said in a whisper. "You seem so cool and +collected, just as though you believed your sandwiches would ever be +eaten!" + +"I am not braver than you are. Look how steady your hand is--much +steadier than mine." + +Beatrice held out her white hand and studied it thoughtfully. + +"I am not afraid," she said, "but not because I am brave. There is no +room for fear, that is all." She paused an instant, and then suddenly +the hand fell on Lois'. The two women looked at each other. "Lois, I +am so sorry." + +"For me?" + +"For you and every one. I have hurt so many. It has all been my fault. +I would give ten lives if I had them to see the harm undone. But that +isn't possible. Oh, Lois, there is surely nothing worse than helpless +remorse!" + +The hand within her own tightened in its clasp. + +"Is it ever helpless, though?" + +"I can't give the dead life--I can't give back a man's faith, can I?" + +The light of understanding deepened in Lois' eyes. + +"Beatrice--I believe I know!" + +"Yes, I see you do. Do you despise me? What does it matter if you do? +It has been my fear of the world and its opinion that helped to lead +me wrong. Isn't it a just punishment? I have ruined both our lives. +Lois, I couldn't help hearing what Captain Nicholson said to you. It +explained what you said to me about building on the ruins of the past. +That was what he did--he built a beautiful palace on me--and I wrecked +it. I failed him." + +"Have you really failed him?" + +"Lois, I don't know--I am beginning to believe not. But it is too +late. I meant to clear away the rubbish--and build. But there is no +time." + +"You have done your best." + +"Oh, if I could only save him, Lois! He was the first man I had ever +met whom I trusted, the first to trust me. I owe him everything, the +little that is good in me. It had to come to life when he believed in +it so implicitly. And he owes me ruin, outward and inward ruin." + +Lois made no answer. With a warm, impulsive gesture she put her arms +about the taller woman's neck and, drawing the beautiful face down to +her own, kissed her. Beatrice responded, and thus a friendship was +sealed--not for life but for death, whose grim cordon was with every +moment being drawn closer about them. + +The sound of firing had now grown incessant. One report followed +another at swift, irregular intervals, and each sounded like a clap of +thunder in the silent room. Mrs. Cary stirred uneasily in her sleep, a +low, scarcely audible groan escaped the parted lips, as though even in +her dreams she was being pursued by fear's pitiless phantom. Her +self-appointed nurse continued to fan her with the energy of despair, +the poor livid face twitching at every fresh threatening sound. Mrs. +Carmichael still pretended to be absorbed in her pinafore, but the +revolver lay on the table, ready to hand, and there was a look in the +steady eyes which boded ill for the first enemy who should confront +her. Lois and Beatrice continued their fruitless task. + +A woman's courage is the supreme victory of mind over matter. It is no +easy thing for a hero to sit still and helpless while death rattles +his bullet fingers against the walls and screams in voices of hate and +fury from a distance which every minute diminishes. For a woman +burdened with the disability of a high-strung nervous system, it is a +martyrdom. Yet these women, brought up on the froth of an enervating, +pleasure-seeking society, held out--held out with a martyr's courage +and constancy--against the torture of inactivity, of an imagination +which penetrated the sheltering walls out into the night where fifty +men writhed in a death-struggle with hundreds--saw every bleeding +wound, heard every smothered moan of pain, felt already the cold iron +pierce their own breasts. The hours passed, and they did not yield. +They had ceased from their incongruous tasks, and stood and waited, +wordless and tearless. + +As the first grey lights of dawn crept into the stifling room they +heard footsteps hurrying across the adjacent room, and each drew +herself upright to meet the end. Mrs. Carmichael's hand tightened over +the revolver, but it was only Mr. Berry who entered. The little +missionary, a shy, society-shunning man, noted for doing more harm +than good among the natives by his zealous bigotry and ignorance of +their prejudices, stood revealed in a new light. His face was grimed +with dirt and powder, his clothes disordered, his weak eyes bright +with the fire of battle. + +"Do not be afraid," he said quickly. "There is no immediate danger. I +have only been sent to warn you to be ready to leave the bungalow. The +front wall is shot-riddled, and the place may become indefensible at +any moment. When that time comes, you must slip out to the old +bungalow. Nicholson believes he can hold out there." + +"My husband--?" interrupted Mrs. Carmichael. + +"Your husband is safe. In fact, all three were well when I left. If I +wasn't against such things, I should say it was a splendid fight--and +every man a hero. The Rajah--" + +"The Rajah--?" + +Mr. Berry looked in stern surprise at the pale face of the speaker. + +"The Rajah has a charmed life," he said somberly. "He is always in the +front of his men--we can recognize him by his dress and figure--he is +always within range, but we can't hit him. Not that I ought to wish +his death, though it's our only chance." He put his hands distractedly +to his head. "Heaven knows, it's too hard for a Christian man! Every +time I see an enemy fall, I rejoice--and then I remember that it is my +brother--" He stopped, the expression on his face of profound trouble +giving way to active alarm. "Hush! Some one is coming!" + +A second time the door opened, and Travers rushed in. Lois saw his +face, and something in her recoiled in sick disgust. Fear, an almost +imbecilic fear, was written on the wide-open, staring eyes, and the +hand that held the revolver trembled like that of an old man. + +"Quick--out by the back way!" he stammered incoherently. "I will lock +the door--so. That will keep them off a minute. They are bound to look +for us here first. Nicholson is retiring with his men--they are going +to have a try to bring down the Rajah. It's our one chance. It may +frighten the devils--they think he's a god. I believe he is, curse +him!" All the time, he had been piling furniture against the door with +a mad and feverish energy. "Help me! Help me!" he screamed. "Why don't +you help? Do you want to be killed like sheep?" + +Lois drew him back by the arm. + +"You are wasting time," she said firmly. "Come with us! Why, you are +hurt!" + +He looked at the thin stream which trickled down the soiled white of +his coat. A silly smile flickered over his big face. + +"Oh, yes, a scratch. I hardly feel it. It isn't anything. It can't be +anything. There's nothing vital thereabouts, is there, Berry?" + +The missionary shrugged his shoulders. He had flung open the glass +doors which led on to the verandah, and the brightening dawn flooded +in upon them. + +"Come and help me carry this poor lady," he said. "We have not a +minute to lose." + +Travers tried to obey, but he had no strength, and the other thrust +him impatiently on one side. + +"Mrs. Carmichael, you are a strong woman," he appealed. Between them +they managed to bring Mrs. Cary's heavy, unconscious frame down the +steps. It was a nerve-trying task, for their progress was of necessity +a slow one, and the sound of the desperate fighting seemed to surround +them on every side. It was with a feeling of intense relief that the +little party saw Nicholson appear from amidst the trees and run toward +them. + +"That's right!" he cried. "Only be quick! They are at us on all sides +now, but my men are keeping them off until you are out of the +bungalow. The old ruin at the back of the garden is our last stand. +Carmichael is there already with a detachment, and is keeping off a +rear attack. I shall remain here." + +"Alone?" Berry asked anxiously. + +"Yes. I believe they will ransack the bungalow first. When they come, +the Rajah is sure to be at their head, and--well, it's going to be +diamond cut diamond between us two when we meet. I know the beggars +and their superstition. If I get in the first shot, they will bolt. If +_he_ does--" + +"You are going to shoot him down like a rat in a trap!" Beatrice burst +out passionately. + +The others had already hurried on. With a gentle force he urged her to +follow them. + +"Or be shot down myself," he said. "Leave me to do my duty as I think +best." + +She met his grave eyes defiantly, but perhaps some instinct told her +that he was risking his life for a poor chance--for their last chance, +for without a word she turned away, apparently in the direction which +her companions had already taken. + +As soon as she was out of sight, Nicholson recharged his smoking +revolver, and stood there quietly waiting. His trained ear heard the +firing in front of the bungalow cease. He knew then that his men were +retiring to join Colonel Carmichael, and that he stood alone, the last +barrier between death and those he loved. The sound of triumphant +shouting drew nearer; he heard the wrenching and tearing of doors +crashing down before an impetuous onslaught, the cling of steel, a +howl of sudden satisfaction. His hand tightened upon his revolver; he +stood ready to meet his enemy single-handed, to fight out the duel +between man and man. But no one came. A bewildering silence had +followed upon the last bloodthirsty cry. It was as though the hand of +death had fallen and with one annihilating blow beaten down the +approaching horde in the high tide of their victory. But of the two +this strange stillness was the more terrible. It penetrated to the +little waiting group in the old bungalow and filled them with the +chill horror of the unknown. Something had happened--that they felt. + +Lois crept to the doorway and peered out into the gathering daylight. +Here and there, half hidden behind the shelter of the trees, she could +see the khaki-clad figures of the Gurkhas, some kneeling, some +standing, their rifles raised to their dark faces, waiting like +statues for the enemy that never came. A dead, petrified world, the +only living thing the sunshine, which played in peaceful indifference +upon the scene of an old and a new tragedy! Lois thought of her +mother. By the power of an overwrought imagination she looked back +through a quarter of a century to a day of which this present was a +strange and horrible repetition. For a moment she lived her mother's +life, lived through the hours of torturing doubt and fear, and when a +stifled cry called her back to the reality and forced her to turn from +the sunlight to the dark room, it was as though the dead had risen, as +though her dreams had taken substance. She saw pale faces staring at +her; she saw on the rusty truckle-bed a figure which rose up and held +out frantic, desperate arms toward her. But it was no dream--no +phantom. Mrs. Cary, wild-eyed and distraught, struggled to rise to her +feet and come toward her. + +"Where is Beatrice?" she cried hysterically. "Where is Beatrice? I +dreamed she was dead!--It isn't true! Say it isn't true!" + +Lois hurried back. In the confusion of their retreat she had lost +sight of Beatrice, and now a cold fear froze her blood. She called her +name, adding her voice to the half-delirious mother's appeal; but +there was no answer, and as she prepared to leave the shelter of the +bungalow to go in search of the lost girl, a pair of strong hands +grasped her by the shoulders and forced her back. + +"Lois, stand back! They are coming!" + +Colonel Carmichael thrust her behind him, and an instant later she +heard the report of his revolver. There was no answering volley. A +dark, scantily-clad figure sprang through the trees, waving one hand +as though in imperative appeal. + +"Don't fire--don't fire! It's me!" + +The Colonel's still smoking revolver sank, and the supposed native +swayed toward him, only to sink a few yards farther on to the ground. +Carmichael ran to his side and lifted the fainting head against his +shoulder. + +"Good God, Geoffries! Don't say I've hit you! How on earth was I to +know!" + +"That's all right, Colonel. Only winded--don't you know--never hurried +so much in life. Have been in the midst of the beggars--just managed +to slip through. O Lor', give me something to drink, will you?" +Colonel Carmichael put his flask to the parched and broken lips. +"Thanks, that's better. We got your message, and are coming on like +fun. The regiment's only an hour off. You never saw Saunders in such a +fluster--it's his first big job, you know." He took another deep +draft, and wiped his mouth with the corner of his ragged tunic. "I +say--don't look at me, Miss Lois. I'm not fit to be seen." He laughed +hoarsely. "These clothes weren't made in Bond Street, and Webb assured +me that the fewer I had the more genuine I looked. I say, Colonel, +this is a lively business!" + +Colonel Carmichael nodded as he helped the gasping and exhausted man +into the bungalow. + +"Too lively to be talked about," he said. "I doubt if the regiment +isn't going to add itself to the general disaster." + +"Oh, rot!" was the young officer's forgetful lapse into disrespect. +"The regiment will do for the beggars all right. They didn't expect us +so soon, I fancy. Just listen! I believe I've frightened them away +already. There isn't a sound." + +Colonel Carmichael lifted his head. True enough, no living thing +seemed to move. A profound hush hung in the air, broken only by Mrs. +Cary's pitiful meanings. + +"Oh, Beatrice, Beatrice, where are you?" + +Geoffries turned his stained face to the Colonel's. + +"Beatrice! That's Miss Cary, isn't it? Anything happened to her?" + +Colonel Carmichael shrugged his shoulders with the impatience of a man +whose nerves are overstrained by anxiety. + +"I don't know--we've lost her," he said. "We must do something at +once. Heaven alone knows what has happened." + +No one indeed knew what had happened--not even the lonely man who +waited, revolver in hand, for the final encounter on whose issue hung +the fortunes of them all. + +Only one knew, and that was Beatrice herself as she stood before the +shattered doorway of the Colonel's drawing-room, amidst the debris of +wrecked, shot-riddled furniture, face to face with Nehal Singh. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HALF-LIGHT + + +Once before she had placed herself in his path, trusting to her skill, +her daring, above all, her beauty. With laughter in her heart and +cold-blooded coquetry she had chosen out the spot before the altar +where the sunlight struck burnished gold from her waving hair and lent +deeper, softening shades to her eyes. With cruel satisfaction, not +unmixed with admiration, she had seen her power successful and the +awe-struck wonder and veneration creep into his face. In the silence +and peace of the temple she had plunged reckless hands into the woven +threads of his life. Amidst the shriek of war, face to face with +death, she sought to save him. It was another woman who stood opposite +the yielding, cracking door, past whose head a half-spent bullet spat +its way, burying itself in the wall behind her,--another woman, +disheveled, forgetful of her wan beauty, trusting to no power but that +which her heart gave her to face the man she had betrayed and ruined. +Yet both in an instantaneous flash remembered that first meeting. The +drawn sword sank, point downward. He stood motionless in the shattered +doorway, holding out a hand which commanded, and obtained, a +petrified, waiting silence from the armed horde whose faces glared +hatred and the lust of slaughter in the narrow space behind. Whatever +had been his resolution, whatever the detestation and contempt which +had filled him, all sank now into an ocean of reborn pain. + +"Why are you here?" he asked sternly. "Why have you not fled?" + +"We are all here," she answered. "None of us has fled. Did you not +know that?" + +He looked about him. A flash of scorn rekindled in his somber eyes. + +"You are alone. Have they deserted you?" + +"They do not know that I am here. I crept back of my own free will--to +speak with you, Nehal." + +Both hands clasped upon his sword-hilt, erect, a proud figure of +misfortune, he stood there and studied her, half-wonderingly, +half-contemptuously. The restless forces at his back were forgotten. +They were no more to him than the pawns with which his will played +life and death. He was their god and their faith. They waited for his +word to sweep out of his path the white-faced Englishwoman who held +him checked in the full course of his victory. But he did not speak to +them, but to her, in a low voice in which scorn still trembled. + +"You are here, no doubt, to intercede for those others--or for +yourself. You see, I have learned something in these two years. It is +useless. No one can stop me now." + +"No one?" + +He smiled, and for the first time she saw a sneer disfigure his lips. + +"Not even you, Miss Cary. You have done a great deal with me--enough +perhaps to justify your wildest hopes--but you have touched the limits +of your powers and of my gullibility. Or did you think there were no +limits?" + +"I do not recognize you when you talk like that!" she exclaimed. + +"That is surprising, seeing that you have made me what I am," he +answered. Then he made a quick gesture of apology. "Forgive me, that +sounded like a reproach or a complaint. I make neither. That is not my +purpose." + +"And yet you have the right," she said, drawing a deep breath, "you +have every right, Nehal. It does not matter what the others did to +you. I know that does not count an atom in comparison to my +responsibilities. You trusted me as you trusted no one else, and I +deceived you. So you have the right to hate me as you hate no one +else. And yet--is it not something, does it not mitigate my fault a +little, that I deceived myself far, far more than I ever deceived +you?" He raised his eyebrows. There was mockery in the movement, and +she went on, desperately resolute: "I played at loving you, Nehal. I +played a comedy with you for my own purposes. And one day it ceased to +be a comedy. I did not know it. I did not know what was driving me to +tell the truth, and reveal myself to you in the ugliest light I could. +I only knew it was something in me stronger than any other impulse of +my life. I know what it is now, and you must know, too. Can't you +understand? If it had been no more than a comedy, you must have found +me out--months ago. But you never found me out. It was _I_ who told +you what I had done and who I was--" + +"Why did you tell me?" He took an involuntary step toward her. +Something in his face relaxed beneath the force of an uncontrollable +emotion. He was asking a question which had hammered at the gates of +his mind day after day and in every waking hour. "Why?" he repeated. + +"I have told you--because I had to. I had to speak the truth. I +couldn't build up my new life on an old lie. You had to know. I had +won your love by a trick. I had to show you the lowest and worst part +of myself before the best in me could grow--the best in me, which is +yours." + +"You are raving!" + +"I am not raving. You must see I am not. Look at me. I am calmer than +you, though I face certain death. I knew when I came here that the +chances were I should be killed before I even saw you, but I had to +risk that. I had to win your trust back somehow, honestly and fairly. +I can not live without your trust." + +"Beatrice!" The name escaped him almost without his knowledge. He saw +tears spring to her eyes. + +"It is true. Your love and your trust have become my life. Then I was +unworthy of both. I tried to make myself worthy. I did what I could. I +told you the truth--I threw away the only thing that mattered to me. I +could not hold your love any longer by a lie--I loved you too much!" + +For that moment the passionate energy of her words, the sincerity and +eloquence of her glance, swept back every thought of suspicion. He +stood stupefied, almost overwhelmed. Mechanically his lips formed +themselves to a few broken sentences. + +"You can not know what you are saying. You are beside yourself. Once, +in my ignorance, I believed it possible, but now I know that it could +never be. Your race despises mine--" + +"I do not care what you are nor to whom you belong!" she broke in, +exulting. "You are the man who taught me to believe that there is +something in this world that is good, that is worthy of veneration; +who awoke in me what little good I have. I love you. If I could win +you back--" + +"What then?" + +"I would follow you to the world's end!" + +"As my wife?" + +"As your wife!" + +He held out his arms toward her, impulse rising like the sun high and +splendid above the mists of distrust. It was an instant's +forgetfulness, which passed as rapidly as it had come. His arms sank +heavily to his side. + +"Have you thought what that means? If you go with me, you must leave +your people for ever." + +"I would follow you gladly." + +He shook his head. + +"You do not understand. You must leave them now--now when I go against +them." + +"No!" she broke in roughly. "You can't, Nehal, you can't. You have the +right to be bitter and angry; you have not the right to commit a +crime. And it would be a crime. You are plunging thousands into +bloodshed and ruin--" He lifted his hand, and the expression in his +eyes checked her. + +"So it is, after all, a bargain that you offer me!" he said. "You are +trying to save them. You offer a high price, but I am not a merchant. +I can not buy you, Beatrice." + +"It is not a bargain!" For the first time she faltered, taken aback by +the pitiless logic of his words. "Can't you see that? Can't you see +that, however much I loved you, I could not act otherwise than implore +you to turn back from a step that means destruction for those bound to +me by blood and country? Could I do less?" + +"No," he said slowly. + +She held out her hands to him. + +"Oh, Nehal, turn back while there is yet time! For my sake, for yours, +for us all, turn back from a bloody, cruel revenge. The power is +yours. Be generous. If we have wronged you, we have suffered and are +ready to atone. _I_ am ready to atone. I _can_ atone, because I love +you. I have spoken the truth to you. I have laid my soul bare to you +as I have done to no other being. Won't you trust me?" + +His eyes met hers with a somber, hopeless significance which cut her +to the heart. + +"I can't," he said. "I can't. That is what you have taught me--to +distrust you--and every one." + +She stood silent now, paralyzed by the finality of his words and +gesture. It was as though the shadow of her heartless folly had risen +before her and become an iron wall of unrelenting, measured +retribution against which she beat herself in vain. He lifted his head +higher, seeming to gather together his shaken powers of self-control. + +"I can not trust you," he said again, "nor can I turn back. But there +is one thing from the past which can not be changed. I love you. It +seems that must remain through all my life. And because of that love I +must save you from the death that awaits your countrymen." He smiled +in faint self-contempt. "It is not for your sake that I shall save +you; it is because I am too great a coward, and can not face the +thought that anything so horrible should come near you." He turned to +two native soldiers behind him and gave an order. When he faced +Beatrice again he saw that she held a revolver in her hand. + +"You do not understand," she said. "You say you mean to save me, but +that is not in your power. It is in your power to save us all, but not +one alone. I know what my people have resolved to do. There are weak, +frightened women among them, but not one of them will fall into your +hands alive. Whatever happens, I shall share their fate." + +Though her tone was quiet and free from all bravado, he knew that she +was not boasting. He knew, too, that she was desperate. + +"You can not force me to kill you," he said sternly. + +"I think it possible," she answered. She was breathing quickly, and +her eyes were bright with a reckless, feverish excitement. But the +hand that held the revolver pointed at the men behind him was +steady--steadier than his own. + +Nehal Singh motioned back the two natives who had advanced at his +order. + +"You play a dangerous game," he said, "and, as before, your strength +lies in my weakness--in my folly. But this time you can not win. My +word is given--to my people." + +"I shall not plead with you," she returned steadily, "and you may be +sure I shall not waver. I am not afraid to die. I had hoped to atone +for all the wrong that has been done you with my love for you, Nehal. +I had hoped that then you would turn away from this madness and become +once more our friend. To this end I have not hesitated to trample on +my dignity and pride. I have not spared myself. But you will not +listen, you are determined to go on, and I"--she caught her breath +sharply--"surely you can understand? I love you, and you have made +yourself the enemy of my country. Death is the easiest, the kindest +solution to it all." + +Nehal Singh's brows knitted themselves in the anguish of a man who +finds himself thwarted by his own nature. He tried not to believe her, +and indeed, in all her words, though they had rung like music, his +ear, tuned to suspicion, had heard the mocking undercurrent of +laughter. She had laughed at him secretly through all those months +when he had offered up to her the incense of an absolute faith, an +unshared devotion. Even now she might be laughing at him, playing on +that in him which nothing could destroy or conceal--his love for her. +And yet--! Behind him he heard the uneasy stir of impatient feet, the +hushed clash of arms. He stood between her and a certain, terrible +death. One word from him, and it would be over--his path clear. But he +could not speak that word. Treacherous and cruel as she had been, the +halo of her first glory still hung about her. He saw her as he had +first seen her--the golden image of pure womanhood--and, strange, +unreasoning contradiction of the human heart, beneath the ashes of his +old faith a new fire had kindled and with every moment burned more +brightly. Unquenchable trust fought out a death struggle with +distrust, and in that conflict her words recurred to him with poignant +significance: "Death is the easiest, the kindest solution to it all." +For him also there seemed no other escape. He pointed to the revolver. + +"For whom is that?" he asked. + +"I do not know--but I will make them kill me." + +"Why do you not shoot me, then?" he demanded, between despair and +bitterness. "That would save you all. If I fell, they would turn and +fly. They think I am Vishnu. Haven't you thought of that? I am in your +power. Why don't you make yourself the benefactress of your country? +Why don't you shoot her enemy?" + +She made no answer, but her eyes met his steadily and calmly. He +turned away, groaning. In vain he fought against it, in vain stung +himself to action by the memory of all that she had done to him. His +love remained triumphant. In that supreme moment his faith burst +through the darkness, and again he believed in her, believed in her +against reason, against the world, against the ineffaceable past, and +against himself. And it was too late. He no longer stood alone. His +word was given. + +"Have pity on me!" he said, once more facing her. "Let me save you!" + +"I should despise myself, and you would despise me--even more than you +do now. I can not do less than share the fate of those whose lives my +folly has jeopardized." + +"At least go back to them--do not stay here. Beatrice, for God's +sake!--I can not turn back. You have made me suffer enough--." He +stood before her now as an incoherent pleader, and her heart burned +with an exultation in which the thought of life and death played no +part. She knew that he still loved her. It seemed for the moment all +that mattered. + +"I can not," she said. + +"Beatrice, do not deceive yourself. Though my life is nothing to +me--though I would give it a dozen times to save you--I can not do +otherwise than go on. I may be weak, but I shall be stronger than my +weakness. My word is given!" + +He spoke with the tempestuous energy of despair. The minutes were +passing with terrible swiftness, and any moment the sea behind him +might burst its dam and sweep her and him to destruction. Already in +the distance he heard the dull clamour of voices raised in angry +remonstrance at the delay. Only those immediately about him were held +in awed silence by the power of his personality. Again Beatrice shook +her head. She stood in the doorway which opened out into the garden +where the besieged had taken refuge. There was no other way. He +advanced toward her. Instantly she raised her revolver and pointed it +at the first man behind him. + +"If I fire," she said, "not even you will be able to hold them back." + +It seemed to her that she stood like a frail wall between two +overwhelming forces--on the one side, Nehal with his thousands; on the +other, Nicholson--alone, truly, but armed with a set and pitiless +resolve. A single sentence, which had fallen upon her ears months +before, rose now out of an ocean of half-forgotten memories: +"Nicholson is the best shot in India," some one had said: "he never +misses." And still Nehal advanced. His jaws were locked, his eyes had +a red fire in them. She knew then that the hour of hesitation was +over, and that in that desperate struggle she had indeed lost. +Uncontrollable words of warning rushed to her lips. + +"Nehal--turn back! Turn back!" + +He did not understand her. He thought she was still pleading with him. + +"I can not--God have pity on us both!" + +Then she too set her lips. She could not betray the last hope of that +heroic handful of men and women behind her. He must go to his +death--and she to hers. She fired,--whether with success or not, she +never knew. In that same instant another sound broke upon their +ears--the sound of distant firing, the rattle of drums and the high +clear call of a trumpet. Nehal Singh swung around. She caught a +glimpse of his face through the smoke, and she saw something written +there which she could not understand. She only knew that his features +seemed to bear a new familiarity, as though a mask had been torn from +them, revealing the face of another man, of a man whom she had seen +before, when and where she could not tell. She had no time to analyze +her emotions nor the sense of violent shock which passed over her. She +heard Nehal Singh giving sharp, rapid orders in Hindustani. The room +emptied. She saw him follow the retreating natives. At the door he +turned and looked back at her. At no time had his love for her +revealed itself more clearly than in that last glance. + +"The English regiment has come to help you," he said. "Fate has +intervened between us this time. May we never meet again!" + +He passed out through the shattered doorway, but she stood where he +had left her, motionless, almost unconscious. It was thus Nicholson +and the Colonel found her when, a moment later, they entered the room +by the verandah. Colonel Carmichael's passionate reproaches died away +as he saw her face. + +"You must not stop here," he said. "You have frightened us all +terribly. The regiment has come and is attacking. There will be some +desperate fighting. We must all stick together." + +She caught Nicholson's eyes resting on her. She thought she read pity +and sympathy in their steady depths, and wondered if he guessed what +she had tried to do. But he said nothing, and she followed the two men +blindly and indifferently back to the bungalow. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +TRAVERS + + +They had no light. They talked in whispers, and now and again, when +the darkness grew too oppressive, they stretched out groping hands and +touched each other. They did this without explanation. Though none +complained or spoke of fear, each needed the consolation of the +other's company, and a touch was worth more than words. Mrs. Cary +alone needed nothing. She lay on the rough truckle-bed and slept. Thus +she had been for a week--a whole week of nerve-wrecking struggle +against odds which marked hope as vain. Bullets had beaten like rain +upon the walls about her, the moaning of wounded men on the other side +of the hastily constructed partition mingled unceasingly with the +cries of the ever-nearing enemy. And she had lain there quiet and +indifferent. Martins, the regiment's doctor, had looked in once at her +and had shaken his head. "In all probability she will never wake," he +had said. "Perhaps it is the kindest thing that could happen to her." +And then he had gone his way to those who needed him more. + +Mrs. Berry knelt by the bedside. Her hands were folded. She had been +praying, but exhaustion had overcome her, and her quiet, peaceful +breathing contrasted strangely with the other sounds that filled the +bungalow. Mrs. Carmichael and Beatrice sat huddled close together, +listening. They could do nothing--not even help the wounded men who +lay so close to them. Everything was in pitch darkness, and no lights +were allowed. They could not go out and help in the stern, relentless +struggle that was going on about them. They bore the woman's harder +lot of waiting, inactive, powerless, fighting the harder battle +against uncertainty and all the horrors of the imagination. + +"I am sorry the regiment has come," Mrs. Carmichael whispered. "There +is no doubt they will be massacred with the rest of us. What are a few +hundreds against thousands? It is a pity. They are such fine fellows." + +Her rough, tired voice had a ring of unconquerable pride in it. She +was thinking of the gallant charge her husband's men had made only two +weeks before; how they had broken through the wall of the enemy, and, +cheering, had rushed to meet the besieged garrison. That had been a +moment of rejoicing, transitory and deceptive. Then the wall closed in +about them again, and they knew that they were trapped. + +"Perhaps we can hold out till help comes," Beatrice said. + +She tried not to be indifferent. For the sake of her companions she +would gladly have felt some desire for life, but in truth it had no +value for her. She could think of nothing but the evil she had done +and of the atonement that had been denied her. It was to no purpose +that she worked unceasingly for the wounded. The sense of +responsibility never left her. Each moan, each death-sigh brought the +same meaning to her ear: "You have helped to do this--this is your +work." + +"No help will come," Mrs. Carmichael said, shaking her head at the +darkness. "When a whole province rises as this has done, it takes +months to organize a sufficient force, and we shan't last out many +days. I wonder what people in England are saying. How well I can see +them over their breakfast cups! Oh, dear, I mustn't think of breakfast +cups, or I shall lose my nerve." She laughed under her breath, and +there was a long silence. + +Presently the door of the bungalow opened, letting in a stream of +moonlight. It was closed instantly, and soft footfalls came over the +boarded floor. + +"Who is it?" Mrs. Carmichael whispered. + +"I--Lois," was the answer. The new-comer crept down by Beatrice's side +and leaned her head against the warm shoulder. "I am so tired," she +said faintly. "I have been with Archibald. He has been moaning so. Mr. +Berry says he is afraid mortification has set in. It is terrible." + +"Poor little woman!" Beatrice put her arm about the slender figure and +drew her closer. "Lay your head on my lap and sleep a little. You can +do no good just now." + +"Thank you. I will, if you don't mind. You will wake me if anything +happens, won't you?" + +"Yes, I promise." It gave Beatrice a sense of comfort to have Lois +near her. Very gently she passed her hand over the aching forehead, +and presently Lois fell into a sleep of absolute exhaustion. + +By mutual consent, Mrs. Carmichael and Beatrice ceased to talk, but +when suddenly there was a movement close to them, and a dim light +flashed over the partition, they exchanged a glance of meaning. + +"That is my husband," Mrs. Carmichael whispered. "Something is going +to happen. Listen!" + +She was not wrong in her supposition. The Colonel had entered the next +room, followed by Nicholson and Saunders, and had closed the door +carefully after him. All three men carried lanterns. They glanced +instinctively at the wooden partition which divided them from the four +women, but Carmichael shook his head. + +"It's all right," he said. "They must be fast asleep, poor souls. +Let's have a look at these fellows." He went over to a huddled-up +figure lying in the shadow. The corner of a military cloak had been +thrown over the face. He drew it on one side and then let it drop. +"Gone!" he said laconically. He passed on to the next. There were in +all three men ranged against the wall. Two of them were dead. "Martins +told me they couldn't last," Colonel Carmichael muttered. "It is +better for them. They are out of it a little sooner, that's all." The +third man was Travers. He lay on his back, his face turned slightly +toward the wall, his eyes closed. He seemed asleep. The Colonel nodded +somberly. "Another ten hours," he calculated. + +He came back to the table, where the others waited, and drew out a +paper from his pocket. + +"Give me your light a moment, Nicholson," he said. + +No one spoke while he examined the list before him. All around them +was a curious hush--a new thing in their struggle, and one that seemed +surcharged with calamity. After a moment Colonel Carmichael looked up. +He was many years the senior of his companions, but just then there +seemed no difference in years between them. They were three wan, +haggard men, weakened with hunger, exhausted with sleepless watching. +That week had killed the youth in two of them. + +"Geoffries has just given me this," Carmichael said. "It is a list of +our provisions. We have enough food, but there is no fresh water. The +enemy has cut off the supply. We could not expect them to do +otherwise." He waited, and then, as neither spoke, he went on: "I have +spoken with the others. You know, gentlemen, we can not go on another +twenty-four hours without water. We have made a good fight for it, but +this is the end. We must look the fact in the face." + +"Surely they must know at headquarters what a state we are in--" +Saunders began. + +The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. + +"No doubt they know, but they can not help in time. This is not a +petty frontier business. It is something worse--a rising with a leader. +A rising with a leader is a lengthy business to tackle, and it +requires its victims. In this case we are the victims." He smiled +grimly. "We have only one thing left to do--make a dash for it while we +have the strength. You must know as well as I do that there is +scarcely anything worth calling a hope, but it's a more agreeable way +of dying than being starved out like rats and then butchered like +sheep. I know these devils." He glanced around the shadowy room with a +curious light in his eyes. "My best friend was murdered in this room," +he added. "Personally, I prefer a fair fight in the open." + +"When do you propose to make the start, Colonel?" Nicholson asked. + +"Within an hour. The night favors us. The women must be kept in the +center as much as possible. I have given Geoffries special charge over +them. They will be told at the last moment. There is no use in +spoiling what little rest they have had." He drew out a pencil and +began to scribble a despatch on the back of an old letter. "I advise +you gentlemen to do likewise," he said. "Very often a piece of paper +gets through where a man can not, and it is our bounden duty to supply +the morning periodicals with as much news as possible." + +For some minutes there was no sound save that of the pencils scrawling +the last messages of men with the seal of death already stamped upon +their foreheads. All three had forgotten Travers, and yet from the +moment they had begun to speak he had been awake and listening. He sat +up now, leaning upon his elbow. + +"Nicholson!" he said faintly. + +Nicholson turned and came to his side. + +"Hullo!" he said. "Awake, are you? How are you?" + +Travers made no immediate answer; he took Nicholson's hand in a +feverish clasp and drew him nearer. + +"I am in great pain," he said. "You don't need to pretend. I know. The +fear of death has been on me all day. Just now I am not afraid. Is +there no hope?" + +"You mean--for us? None." + +Travers nodded. + +"I heard you talking, but I wanted to make sure. It has all been my +fault--every bit of it. It's decent of you not to make me feel it +more. You are not to blame--her. You know I tempted her, I made her +help me. She isn't responsible. At any rate, she made a clean breast +of it--that's something to her credit. I didn't want to--I never meant +to. I am not the sort that repents. But this last week you have been +so decent, and Lois such a plucky little soul--she ought to hate +me--and perhaps she does--but she has done her best. Nicholson, are +you listening? Can you hear what I say? It's so damned hard for me to +talk." + +"I can hear," Nicholson said kindly. "Don't worry about what can't be +helped." In spite of everything, he pitied the man, and his tone +showed it. + +Travers lifted himself higher, clinging to the other's shoulder. His +voice began to come in rough, uneven jerks. + +"But it can be helped--it must be helped! Don't you see--I came +between you and Lois purposely. From the first moment you spoke of her +I knew that you loved her--and I wanted her. I never gave your +message. I didn't dare. You are the sort of man a woman cares for--a +woman like Lois. I couldn't risk it. But now--well, I'm done, and +afterward she will be free--" + +Nicholson drew back stiffly. + +"You are talking nonsense," he said, in a colder tone. "No one wants +you to die--and in any case, you know very well we have no chance of +getting through this alive." + +Travers seized his arm. His eyes shone with a painful excitement. + +"Yes--yes!" he stammered. "You have a chance--a sure hope. I can save +you; I can--atone. That's what I want. Only you must help me. I am a +dying man. I want you to bring me to the Rajah--at once. Only five +minutes with him--that will be enough. Then he will let you go--he +must!" + +Nicholson freed himself resolutely from the clinging hands. + +"You exaggerate your power," he said, "and, besides, what you ask is +an impossibility." + +He turned away, but Travers caught his arm and held him with a +frantic, desperate strength. + +"Then if you will not help me--send Miss Cary to me," he pleaded. "I +must speak to her." + +Nicholson looked down into the dying face with a new interest. He had +no suspicion of the burden with which Travers' soul was laden, and yet +he was conscious now that the matter was urgent and of an importance +which he could not estimate. + +"I will tell her," he said. "Stay quiet a minute. We have no time to +lose." + +Travers nodded and fell back on to his rough couch. His eyes closed +and he seemed to sleep, but as Beatrice knelt down by his side he +roused himself and looked at her with the intensity of a man who has +gathered his last strength for a last great purpose. + +"I am dying," he whispered thickly; "I know it and I don't care. I am +past caring. But before I die I want to atone; I want, if I can, to +save Lois. I care for her in my poor way, and I would like her to be +happy. Are you listening?" + +"I am listening," Beatrice answered gravely. "Do you think I could +close my ears when you speak of atonement?" + +He clutched her hand. + +"You would be glad to atone for all the mischief we have done?" + +"I would give my life." + +"Is the Colonel there? I can't see clearly. Colonel, I want you to +hear what I have to say." + +Colonel Carmichael turned. + +"This is no time," he said sternly, "and it is too late for atonement. +Our account with this world is closed." + +"It need not be. Colonel--in the name of those whose lives lie in your +hands, I beg of you to listen to me." + +There was a moment's hesitating silence. Travers' glazed eyes were +fixed on the elder man's face with a hypnotizing power. The Colonel +drew nearer--reluctantly knelt down. + +"Be quick then!" he said. + +Travers nodded. His head was thrown back against Beatrice's shoulder. +With fumbling, trembling fingers he drew a plain gold ring from his +pocket and thrust it into the Colonel's hand. + +"Look at that!" he whispered. "Look at the inscription." + +Carmichael turned to the feeble light. No one spoke or moved. They +watched him and waited with a reasonless, breathless suspense. + +"My God!" he whispered, "How did you come by this?" + +Travers drew himself upright. The shadows of death were banished in +that last moment; his voice was clear and steady as he answered. + +"Listen," he said. "I will tell you--and then act before it is too +late!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN THE HOUR OF NEED + + +Nehal Singh pulled aside the curtains over the window and stepped out +on to the balcony. The air in the great silent room behind him stifled +him, and even the night breeze, as it touched his cheeks, seemed to +burn with fever. He stood there motionless, his arms folded, gazing +fixedly into the half-darkness. A pale, watery moonlight cast an +unearthly shimmer over the shadowy world before him, brightened every +here and there by the will-o'-the-wisp fire points which marked the +presence of the camped thousands waiting silently for his word. Only +one spot--it seemed like a black stain--remained in absolute gloom, +and it was thither the Rajah's eyes were turned. Every night he had +come to the same place to watch it. Every night he had tortured +himself with the thought of all it contained. + +For he knew now, with the clear certainty of a man who has searched +down to the bottom of his soul, that in that silent area his whole +life, his one hope of happiness was bound up, and waited, with those +who were fighting stubbornly, heroically, against the end--its +destruction beneath his own sword. He was fighting against himself. +With his own hands he was tearing down that which seemed an +inseparable, incorporate part of himself. Anger and contempt were +dead. In their place the old love had rekindled and grown brighter +before the sight of a courage, dignified and silent, which had held +back the tide of furious fanaticism and thwarted his own despair. He +had seen, with eyes which burned with an indescribable emotion, a +regiment of wearied, weakened men, led by a man he had once despised, +burst through the densest squares of his own soldiers; he had heard +their cheers as they had clasped hands with the defenders; he had +looked aghast into his own heart, afire with admiration, aching with a +strange, broken-hearted gratitude to God who had made such men. It was +in vain that, lashing himself with the knowledge of his own weakness +and of his disloyalty to those who followed him, he had flung himself +against the defenses of the little garrison. + +Day after day they drove him back, fighting hand to hand in the +earthworks they had thrown up in a few hours of miraculous labor. He +fought against them like a man possessed of an unquenchable hatred; +but at night, when he was at last alone, he had slipped out on to his +balcony and held out his hands toward them in an unspeakable wordless +greeting. Once more they had become for him the world's Great People, +the giants of his boyhood's imagination, the heroes of his man's +ideal. At the point of the sword they had proved the truth of +Nicholson's proud boast, and hour by hour the man who had turned from +them in a moment of bitter disillusion saw the temple he had once +built to their honor rise from its ashes in new and greater splendor. + +Thus two weeks had passed, and to-night was to see the end. Nehal knew +that, brave though they were, they could do no more. They had no +water, and his forces hugged them in on every side. One last attack +and it would be over--Marut would be cleared from the enemy, his +victory complete. His victory! It was his own ruin he was preparing, +the certain destruction of that which seemed linked invisibly but +surely to his own fate. And, knowing that, he knew also that there was +no turning back for him, no retreat. His word was given. His people, +the people who claimed him by the right of blood, clamored for him to +lead them as he had sworn. It made no difference if on the path he had +chosen he trampled on every hope, every wish, every rooted instinct. +There was no turning back. He knew it--the knowledge that his own +words bound him came to him with pitiless finality as he stood there +watching the silent, lightless stretch which was soon to be the scene +of a last tragic struggle; and if indeed there are such things as +tears of blood, they rose to his eyes now. + +With lips compressed in an agony he could neither analyze nor conquer, +he turned slowly back into the dimly lighted room. Two torches burned +on either side of the throne and threw unsteady shadows among the +glittering pillars. They lit up his face and revealed it as that of a +man who has cast his youth behind him for ever. Only a few months had +passed since he had sat there with Travers in the full noon of his +hope and enthusiasm. He remembered the scene with a clearness which +was a fresh torture. The hopes that had been built up in that hour lay +shattered, the woman for whom they had been built was lost. He thought +of her now as he always thought of her, as he knew he would think of +her to the end. For this love, save that it had grown and deepened +into a wider understanding, had remained unchanged. As there had been +cowards and tricksters among his heroes, so in that one woman evil and +good had stood side by side and fought out their battle. And the good +had won--had won because he alone of all men had believed in it. He +believed in it still--in the same measure as he had learned to love +her--with a deeper understanding of temptation and failure. It was the +one triumph in the midst of seeming ruin, the one firm rock in the +raging torrent of his fate, beaten as it was between the contending +streams of desire and duty. She was indeed lost to him, but not as in +the first hour of his shaken trust. He had regained his memory of her +as a good woman, striving upward and onward; and already he had +invested her with the glory of those whom death has already claimed +from us. + +Nehal Singh started from his painful reverie, conscious that some one +had entered the room and was watching him. He turned and saw his chief +captain standing respectfully before him, and, though it was a man he +liked and trusted, it seemed to him that the gaunt, soldierly figure +had taken on the form of an ugly, threatening destiny. + +"All is ready, Great Prince," the native said, salaaming. "Every man +is at his post. We do but await thy orders." + +Nehal did not answer. His hands clasped and unclasped themselves in +the last agony of hesitation. The moment had come, the inevitable and +irretrievable moment which had loomed so long upon his horizon. Even +now he hardly knew what it was to bring him. The forces warring in his +blood were locked in a death struggle. At last he nodded and his lips +moved. + +"It is well. In half an hour--I will come to them. In half an +hour--the attack will begin." + +"Sahib--is it good to wait? The dawn cometh, and with the dawn--" + +Nehal Singh lifted his hand peremptorily. + +"In half an hour," he repeated. + +The man salaamed and was gone. Nehal Singh stood there like a pillar +of stone. It was over. In half an hour! And yet, at the bottom of his +heart, he knew that he had delayed--purposely, but to no end but his +own increased suffering. With a sigh of impatience he turned, and in +the same instant became once more aware that he was not alone. + +For a moment he perceived nothing save the shadows and the unsteady +flickering of the yellow torchlight. Then his vision cleared and he +saw and understood, and an exclamation burst from his horrified lips. +It was a woman who stood out against the darkness, her body clothed in +rags, the hair, grey and thin, hanging unkempt about her shoulders, +the face turned to his that of some being risen from a tomb. There +seemed to be no flesh upon the high cheek-bones nor upon the hands +that were stretched toward him; only the eyes were alive with an +unquenchable fire which burned upon him with a power that was +unearthly. She staggered a few steps and then sank slowly to his feet, +her hands still outstretched. He knelt down and supported the sinking +head upon his shoulder. + +"Who art thou?" he whispered in Hindustani. "Where hast thou come +from? Tell me thy history." + +A look of intense pain passed over her features. Slowly and with a +great effort her lips parted. + +"I am English--let me speak in English. I have only a few minutes--I +am dying." + +He looked about him, seeking something with which to moisten her dry +lips, but she clung to him with an incredible strength. + +"No, no, I must speak with you. Up to now I have lived in an awful +nightmare--amidst ghastly phantoms who pursued and tortured me. But +when I heard your voice--when I heard you give that order, I awoke. +The dreams vanished, I heard and understood--and remembered!" She drew +herself upright and, for a moment spoke with a penetrating clearness. +"Not in half an hour--never! Withdraw that order! If you go against +them you are accursed. Lay down your arms! You must--you know you +must! You dare not--" She clung to his arm and her eyes seemed to burn +their way into his very soul. "I tell you--to turn traitor is to +inherit an endless hell--" + +"A traitor!" he echoed. Something clutched at his heart, a sort of +numb suspense which became electrified as he saw a new expression +flash into her face. + +"Yes, a traitor!" she whispered. "That was what I was. I was +English--yes, English in spite of all, but in my bitterness I turned +from my people. I let myself be taken alive. I would not share the +fate of those who had once been dear to me. My whole life has been the +punishment. They tortured me and then came the dreams--the awful, +hideous dreams. I was always looking for you, always calling for you. +And they laughed and mocked at me. Only one man did not laugh--" her +voice grew doubtful and hesitating, as though she were groping in the +shadows of her memory. "He did not laugh. He promised to help me but +he never came again--and I died--yes, I died--but I saw your face, I +heard your voice--and I came back from death--to save you!" Once more +her vision cleared and her voice grew steadier. "Go back to them! They +are your friends. If you do not go, you will break your heart--as mine +is broken. Swear to me--you must, because--" + +He bent closer to her to catch every sound that fell from her lips. +His pulses were beating with a suffocating violence. Somewhere a veil +was lifting. It was as if the sunlight were at last breaking through a +mist of strange dreams, strange longings, strange forebodings. The +confused voices that had called to him throughout his life grew +clearer. + +"Because--?" he whispered. + +But she did not answer. Her head was thrown back. Her open eyes were +fixed intently on his face. Suddenly she smiled. It was a smile that +chilled his blood with its hideous distortion. And yet behind it +lurked the possibility of a long-lost beauty and sweetness. + +"Steven!" she whispered. "Steven!" + +Closer and closer she drew his face to hers. Her icy lips rested on +his cheek. Pity and a strange, as yet unformed, foreboding made him +accept that dying caress and speak to her with an urgent, pleading +gentleness. + +"You have something to tell me," he murmured, "something I must know. +Tell me before it is too late." + +But her eyes had closed and she did not answer him. + +"Rouse yourself!" he insisted. "Rouse yourself!" It seemed to him that +she smiled. Her face had undergone a change. It was younger, and in +the flickering light his imagination brightened it with the glories +whose dim traces still touched the haggard, emaciated features. One +last time her eyes opened and she looked at him. The frenzy of despair +was gone. He felt that she was looking beyond him to a future he could +not see. + +"Go back!" she whispered. "Go back!" + +He pressed her to him, seeking to pour something of his own seething +vitality into her dying frame. With her life the threads of his fate +seemed to be slipping through his fingers. + +"Help me!" he implored. "Do not leave me!" + +But he knew that she would never answer. She lay heavy in his arms, +and the hand that clasped his relaxed and fell with a soft thud upon +the marble. He rose to his feet and stood looking down upon her. It +was not the first time he had seen death. In these last weeks he had +met it in all its most hideous, most revolting forms; but none had +moved him, awed him as this did. He knew that she had once been +beautiful. Who had made her suffer till only a shadow of that beauty +remained? What had she endured? Who was she? What did she know of him? +Why did she call him by a name which rang in his ears with a vague +familiarity? What was it in her poor dead face which stirred in him a +memory which had no date nor place in his life? + +Outside he heard the uneasy stirring of the thousands who awaited him. +He looked up and through the open windows, saw the camp-fires and that +one dark spot which was to be swept clear of all but death. What had +she said? "Go back! Lay down your arms! You must--you know you must! +To turn traitor is to inherit an endless hell!" A traitor? A traitor +to whom--to what? To some blind instinct that had called him in those +English voices, that had beaten out an answering cry of thankfulness +from his heart when their cheers proclaimed his own defeat? + +A soft step roused him from his troubled thoughts. He looked up and +saw a servant standing in the curtained doorway. The man's eyes were +fixed on the outstretched figure at Nehal's feet, and there was an +expression on the dark face so full of fear and horror that the Rajah +involuntarily drew back. + +"Who was this woman?" he demanded. "Whence comes she?" + +"Lord Sahib, she was a mad-woman whom the Lord Behar Singh kept out of +mercy. She must have escaped her prison. More I know not." + +The man was trembling as though in the shadows there lurked a hidden +threatening danger, and Nehal turned aside with a gesture of desperate +impatience. + +"Why hast thou come before the time?" he asked. + +"Lord Sahib, outside there are two English prisoners. They demand to +be brought before thee. What is thy will?" + +"Bring them hither." + +Nehal Singh stood where the bowing servant left him, at the side of +the poor dead woman, his hands crossed upon his sword-hilt, his eyes +fixed on the parted curtains. There he waited, motionless, passive, as +a man waits who knows that he has become the tool of Destiny. + +A moment later, Beatrice stood before him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HIS OWN PEOPLE + + +She was not alone, but in that first moment he saw nothing but her +face. It seemed to him that the whole world was blotted out and that +only she remained, grave, fearless, supreme in her wan beauty, a +tragic figure glorified by a light of unconquerable resolution. He +looked at her but he did not greet her; no muscle of his set and ashy +features betrayed the thrill of passionate recognition which had +passed like a line of fire through his veins. To move was to awake +from a dream to a hideous, terrible reality. + +She came slowly toward him. The thin wrap about her head slipped back +and he saw the light flash on to the fair disheveled hair. His eyes +were dazzled, but it seemed to him that there were grey threads where +once had been untarnished gold. Yet he could not and would not speak, +and she came on till she stood opposite him, the dead woman lying +there between them. Then for the first time she lowered her eyes and +he awoke with a start of agonizing pain. + +"Why have you come?" he said. "Have you come to plead again? Have you +come to torture me again? Was not that once enough? In a few minutes I +shall sweep your people to destruction. Shall I save you?--is that +what you have come to tell me?" + +He waited for her answer, his teeth clenched, his brows knitted in the +old terrible struggle. All his energy, all his determination sank +paralyzed before her and before his love, and yet he knew he must go +on--go on with the destruction of himself, of her, of all that was +dearest to him. + +She knelt down and touched the dead face with her white hand, closing +the glazed, staring eyes with a curious tenderness and pity. There was +no surprise or horror in her expression as she at last rose and faced +him--rather a mysterious knowledge which held him bound in wordless +expectation. + +"I have come to tell you that woman's history, Steven Caruthers," she +said. "I have not come to plead with you but to tell you the truth--to +lay before you the two paths between which you must choose once and +for all. Will you listen to me?" + +"Beatrice!" he stammered. "Why have you given me a name which is not +mine--which _she_ gave me with her last breath? What do you know that +you have risked your life--" + +"It was no risk," she said. "My life was forfeited and it was our last +hope. Oh, if I can turn you from all this ruin, then I shall have +atoned for the evil I have done you!" + +The note of mingled entreaty, despair and hope stirred him to the +depths of his being, but he made no response. He could only point to +the white face and repeat the question which had beaten in pitiless +reiteration against his tortured brain. + +"Who was she?" + +"She was your mother." + +"And I--?" + +It was not Beatrice who this time answered. A figure stepped forward +out of the shadows and faced the Rajah. It was Carmichael, pale, +deeply moved, but erect and steadfast. His eyes were fixed on Nehal's +features with a curious, hungry eagerness which changed as he spoke +into a growing recognition. + +"Let me tell you," he said. "I will be brief, for every minute is +precious and full of danger for us all. This poor woman was Margaret +Caruthers, the wife of my dearest friend, and your mother. Until an +hour ago I believed that she had been butchered with her husband and +with all those others who paid the penalty of one man's sin. No doubt +you know why your supposed father, Behar Singh, rose against us?" + +"His honor--his wife had been stolen from him by a treacherous +Englishman," Nehal answered hoarsely. + +"Yes, by Stafford, John Stafford's father. The issue of that act of +infidelity was a child, Lois, who afterward was adopted by Caruthers, +partly out of friendship for Stafford, partly because he had no +children of his own. So much, at least, I surmise. I surmise, too, +that that adoption cost him his wife's love and trust. Perhaps, +ignorant of the child's real parentage, she believed the worst, +perhaps there were other causes--be it as it may, in the hour of +catastrophe she refused to share the general fate. She chose to throw +herself upon the mercy of her mother's people." + +"Her mother's people!" Nehal echoed blankly. + +"There was native blood in her veins. It was on that account that +Behar Singh spared her. She bitterly learned to regret her change of +allegiance. She was kept close prisoner, and six months after the +murder of her husband she bore him a son--you--Steven Caruthers. Behar +Singh, himself without an heir, took the child from her, and from that +hour the unfortunate woman became insane. Long years she was kept a +secret and wretched captive, and then one day she escaped, and in her +wanderings met a man--an Englishman who was then your friend." + +"Travers!" Nehal exclaimed. + +"Yes, Travers. By means of bribes and threats he obtained her whole +history, partly from her own lips, partly from her gaolers. But he +told no one of his discovery." + +"Why not? How dared he keep silence?" + +"It is very simple. He wished to marry my ward, Lois Caruthers, and he +wished to have her money. As I have said, Caruthers had adopted her +when her mother, the Reni Ona, returned to her own people, and had +made her his heir in the case that he should have no children of his +own. Had your existence been known Lois would have been penniless. +Travers knew this and kept his secret from every one save Stafford." + +"Why did he tell Stafford?" + +"He had to. Stafford and Lois loved each other--with a love which was +all too natural and explicable in the light of our present knowledge. +It was necessary that he should be made aware that marriage between +them was impossible--that they were, in fact, the children of the same +father." + +"Stafford kept silence--" + +"He had promised. And, moreover, he believed it kinder to hide the +truth from Lois. Only at the last he determined to speak at all costs. +But it was too late. You know--he was murdered on the steps of +Travers' house." + +Nehal Singh nodded. An even deadlier pallor crept over his features. + +"I know," he said. "It was Behar Singh's last vengeance. God knows, my +hands are clean." + +"That I know. You are your father's son." + +"And the proof of all this?" + +"This ring. Take it. It was your mother's. Travers gave it to me when +he made his confession. He took it from the poor mad woman at their +first meeting. Look at the inscription. It bears your mother's and +father's names." + +"And Travers--?" The Rajah lifted his hand in a stern, threatening +gesture. + +"--is dead," was the grave answer. "He died an hour ago, in his wife's +arms." + +For a moment a profound hush hung over the great, dimly lighted hall. +The Rajah knelt down by his mother's side and gently replaced the ring +upon the thin lifeless finger. + +"She called herself a traitor," he said, half to himself. "A traitor +to whom--to what?" + +"To the strong white blood that was in her veins. In her bitterness at +the real or imagined wrongs that had been done her, she turned away +from the people to whom she belonged, to whom she was bound by all the +ties of love and upbringing. She disobeyed the voice of her instinct. +And you, her son, you, too, have been bitter; you, too, must listen to +the call of the two races to whom you are linked. Whom will you obey? +You stand at the cross-ways where you must choose--where we must +either part or join hands for good and all. The road back to us is +open, is still open. That is the message of peace which we have risked +our lives to bring you. Rajah, Steven Caruthers--for so I now call +you--I plead with you--I may plead with you, for in this hour at least +I can not look upon you as an adversary, but as the son of this +unfortunate woman--above all, of my friend. I plead with you the more +because I owe you years of friendship. I am not the least to blame +that you fell away from us in resentment and bitterness. I could have +shielded you from the inevitable pitfalls that beset your path, +but--God forgive me!--my prejudice blinded me and I held back. It was +I who carried you away from the palace on that night when you were +left, a helpless child, to the mercy of Behar Singh's enemies. Then I +had pity enough--but years after I held back the hand of friendship +which I might have offered you. Well, I am punished, twice punished, +for my prejudice and blindness. Is it too late for me to make my +reparation?" + +He held out his hand and there was a silence of tense expectation. The +Rajah's head was bowed. He did not seem to see the Colonel's movement. + +"You can not think I am pleading with you to save our lives," +Carmichael went on with grave dignity. "We have fought for them. An +hour ago we were prepared to lay them down without complaint. We are +not the less prepared now. It is not for us I am speaking, but for +you. Your day as Rajah is over--your claim to rule in India void. I +offer you instead your father's name, your father's people, your +father's heritage. The other road--well, you have trodden it, you know +it. You must choose. Your mother chose--twenty-five years ago, in the +same hour of crisis, blinded by the same bitterness. She chose to tear +the bonds of love and duty; she ignored the true voice of her +instinct. It broke her heart. The same crisis stands to-night before +you, her son. What will you do--Steven Caruthers?" + +The Rajah lifted his head. The struggle was written in his dark, +sunken eyes and on the compressed lips. + +"I can not desert them," he said wearily. "They trust me--my people +trust me." + +"Who are your people?" was the swift question. "You must choose." + +Again the same silence, the same waiting while the hand of fate seemed +to hover above them in the darkness. Beatrice left her place at the +dead woman's side. With a firm, proud step she came to the Rajah and +took his hand in both her own. He started at her touch, and for a long +minute his gaze seemed to sink itself in hers, but she never wavered. +When she spoke an immeasurable tenderness rang in her voice, a +boundless understanding and sympathy. + +"Steven--have you forgotten? Long ago in the old temple? Don't you +remember what you told me then--how you loved and admired us? You +called us the world's Great People, and when you spoke of our heroes +there was something in your voice which thrilled me. Was it only your +books, was it your teachers--Behar Singh--who made you feel as you +did? When you came among us, what led you? The face of a woman? Was it +only that? Or was it something more?--the call of a great, wonderful +instinct?" + +His eyes were riveted on her face, but for that moment he did not see +her. He did not see the tears that glistened on her cheeks. He was +looking straight through the long vista of the past, right back to the +first hours of his memory, when he had wandered alone amidst strange +faces, a ruler in a palace which had never ceased to be his prison, an +exile whose home lay only in strange, fantastic dreams. And in this +final moment he seemed to stand high above the past, and ever swifter +and surer to trace through every incident of his life one same guiding +power. Through the snares of Behar Singh's hate-filled temptations it +had led onward; it had borne him to the temple--to the feet of the +woman he was to love through every torture of bitter deception; it had +swept him on a wave of impulse beyond his prison walls out into a +world which he at last hailed as his; and now, in the hour of fiercest +despair, of deepest loss, it was drawing him surely and swiftly +homeward. The past vanished. He saw again the face lifted to his--he +saw the tears--the Colonel's hand outstretched, waiting to clasp his +own. He heard the title that she gave him as a man hears a +long-forgotten watchword. + +"You are English, Steven. You are English--you belong to us!" + +He unfastened the sword at his side. For a moment he held it as though +in farewell. But there was no grief on his face as he laid the jeweled +weapon in the Colonel's hand. + +"I have chosen," he said. "I can not go against my people." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +ENVOI + + +With the surrender of one man the great Marut rising came to an end. +It had been built up by him and on him, and with him it collapsed. As +the news reached the armed thousands encamped about the ruined +Station, consternation fell upon them. There was no attempt at +organization or resistance. They believed simply that Heaven had +turned against them and Vishnu joined hands with the Englishman, and +they waited to hear no more. What had seemed an overwhelming force +melted away as though it had been a shadow, and in the jungle, +slinking along the lightless highways, or huddling in the lonely +hovels outside Marut, the remnant of Behar Singh's great army hid from +the hand of the destroyer. They had followed their god, and their god +had deserted them. All hope was lost, and with the fatalism of their +race they flung their weapons from them as they fled. + +Pending the decision of the Government, Nehal Singh, now Steven +Caruthers, was held prisoner in the club-house he had built two years +before. Part of the returned regiment was encamped about the +surrounding gardens, in order to prevent all attempt at rescue, but +the precaution was a mere formality. Visitors came constantly. There +was not a man in all the Station who was not anxious to help bury the +past and to hold out the hand of friendship to one whom at the bottom +of their hearts they had once wronged and slighted. Among them +Carmichael and Nicholson were the chief. They passed many hours of +each day with him, and worked steadily and enthusiastically for his +pardon and release. He was touched and grateful, but beneath his +gratitude there still lurked the demon of unrest. She had not +come--the one being for whom he waited--she had sent no word. He knew +that her mother lay dying--above all things he knew that on the great +day of the attack she had stood resolutely between him and death--but +nothing, no explanation or assurance, calmed the hidden trouble of his +mind. After all, it had been pity--or remorse--not love. + +Thus three weeks passed. The Colonel had spent the day with him +discussing the future, arranging for the transference of Lois' fortune +into his unwilling hands, and now, toward nightfall, he was once more +alone, wearied in body and soul. For the first time since his +surrender his sense of quiet and release from an immense burden was +gone. He was still alone. He felt now that he would always be alone, +for there was but one who could fill the blank in his life. And she +had not come. He did not and could not blame her. Who was he that a +woman should join her lot to his? An Englishman truly, but one over +whose birth and youth there hung a shadow, perhaps a curse such as had +darkened his mother's life and the life of all those in whose veins +there flows an alien blood. She must not even think that any link from +the past bound her. She must be free--quite free to choose. Wearily he +seated himself at his table and took his pen. + +"You have been the great guiding light of my life," he wrote to her. +"You will always be, because I can not learn to forget. But for you it +would be easier and better to forget. You will be happier--" And then +he heard the door open, and she stood before him. The words that he +had meant to write rushed to his lips, but no further. Moved by a +common impulse, they advanced to meet each other, and the next moment +she was in his arms. Neither spoke. It seemed as though, once face to +face, there could be no doubts, no misunderstandings between them. +Their love was wordless, but it had spoken in a silence more eloquent, +more complete than words could ever have been. + +"I could not come before," she said, after a little. "I could not +leave her. She was only at peace when I held her hand. She was very +happy at the last--now it is all over." + +He held her closer to him, and she clung to him, not sadly or wearily, +but like a strong woman who had fought and won the thing she fought +for. + +"It was Fate after all," he said, under his breath. "She meant us for +each other." + +She looked up at him. Though suffering, physical and mental, had drawn +its ineffaceable lines upon her face, it had also added to her beauty +the charm of strength and experience. + +"I knew long ago that it was Fate," she answered. "Do you remember +that first evening? You told me that people do not drift aimlessly +into each other's lives. Even then, against my will, I felt that it +was true. Afterward I was sure. I had entered into your life in a +moment of frivolous recklessness, but you had entered into mine with +another purpose, and I could not rid myself of you. Your hold upon me +was strong. It grew stronger, do what I would, and the farce became +deadly earnest." + +"For me it was always deadly earnest," he said. "When I first saw you +standing before the idol, it was as though a wall which had surrounded +my life had been overthrown, and that you had come to be my guide and +comrade in a new and unknown world." + +"And then I failed you." + +His eyes met hers thoughtfully. + +"Did you? Now I look back, I am not sure. I had to believe you when +you said you had deceived me and played with me. I had to force myself +to despise you. Yet, when you confronted me in the bungalow, I felt +suddenly that you needed to explain nothing. I understood." + +"Did you understand that I had only deceived myself? I told myself +that it was a farce played at your expense. But--Heaven knows--I +believe it ceased to be a farce from the first hour I saw you. You +believed in me so. No one had believed in me before--I had never +believed in myself or in man, or in God, either. But I had to believe +in you, and afterward--the rest came." She drew herself upright and +looked him full in the dark eyes. "Steven, do you trust me?" He +nodded. "As you did on that day when you told me that you owed me all +that you were and ever would be?" + +"As then, Beatrice." + +She smiled gravely. + +"You do right to trust me. You have made me worthy of your trust." + +He put his arm about her shoulder, and led her gently on to the +verandah. The night had fallen dark and starless. Through the black +veil they saw the gleam of bivouac fires and heard the voices of men +calling to one another, and the clatter of piled arms. They remained +silent, after the storm and stress of the past, content to be together +and at peace. They knew that the long night was over and that the dawn +had broken. + +When the Colonel entered they did not hear him, and without speaking +he turned back and closed the door after him. In his hand he held a +telegram ordering the deposition of Nehal Singh, Rajah of Marut, and +the recognition, pardon and release of one Steven Caruthers, +Englishman. But he crept away with the long-hoped-for message. + +"Time enough," he thought. "They are happy." + +And if beneath his heartfelt rejoicing there lurked the shadow of +bitterness, who shall blame him? There was one dearer to him than his +own child could have been, for whose wounded heart there seemed as yet +no balsam. And yet, unknown to him, for her also the dawn was +breaking. For even as he crept away with knitted brows, sharing her +burden with her by the power of love and sympathy, she held in her +hands the first herald of a happier future. + +"What you have told me I accept--for now," Adam Nicholson had written. +"You are wise to travel with the Carmichaels. It will do you good. I, +who was prepared to wait my whole life for you, can have patience for +a little longer. I know that you suffer and as yet I may not help you. +Your pride separates us, but your pride is a little thing compared to +my love. What is your birth or parentage to me? You say it would +overshadow my whole life, darken my career? It might try. That would +be one thing more to fight against. We have come to India to sweep +away its prejudices; let us first sweep away our own. We have come to +bring freedom; let us first make ourselves free. It will be a good +battle, but it will not darken my life, Lois. Do you think opposition +and struggle could darken my life? Surely you know me better. Do but +stand at my side, and there will be no darkness. I am not a boy. I am +a man who sees before him long years of labor, and who needs the one +woman who can help him. Is our cathedral forgotten? I do not believe +it. You are not the woman to forget. The time is not far off when we +will crown our cathedral hand in hand. Only when your love dies can +the barrier between us become insurmountable. If your love lives, +then, as surely as there is a God in Heaven, I will come and fetch +you, Lois--my wife." + +And the tears that filled her eyes as she read the boldly written +words were no longer the tears of grief. Her love for him had been the +rock upon which her life was built. It was imperishable. She knew thus +that she would not have long to wait until his coming. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Native Born, by I. A. R. 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