United States or Niger ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Not all, my mem-sahib," answered Hanani, in the soothing tone of one who instructs a child. "Hafiz knew the sahib in the days before Hanani came to Kurrumpore. Hafiz told a strange story of the sahib. He had married and had taken his wife to the mountains beyond Srinagar. And there an evil fate had overtaken him, and she the mem-sahib had returned alone." Hanani paused dramatically.
At last very, very slowly she spoke. "Mem-sahib, even in the desert the sun rises. There is always comfort for those who go forward even though they mourn." "Not for me," sobbed Stella. "Not for those who part in bitterness and never meet again!" "Never, mem-sahib?" Hanani yet gazed straight before her.
He caught Ramabai by the arm so savagely that a low cry came from the brown man's lips. "Patience, Sahib!" he warned. "Without you what will the Mem-sahib do? They will tie her in that and liberate a tiger. The rest lies with you, Sahib." "Ramabai, as God hears me, some one shall pay for this! . . . The nineteenth century, and I am wide awake!
The law was the law; and none, not even the priests in their shaven polls and yellow robes, might slip beyond the law as it read. The first ordeal was over. Nor, as the law read, could they lay hands upon this brave young man. Ai! it was good. Umballa must look elsewhere for his chief wife; the Mem-sahib would not adorn his zenana.
Give these to one in authority with the British Raj, whose bread we eat." Ahmed slid across the table a very small scroll. "The Mem-sahib is my master's daughter. She must be spirited away to safety." "Ah!" Lal Singh rubbed his fat hands. "So the time nears when we shall wring the vulture's neck? Ai, it is good! Umballa, the toad, who swells and swells as the days go by. Siva has guarded him well.
It must have been some time later that there fell a soft step beside her; a veiled figure, bent and slow of movement, stooped over her. "Mem-sahib!" a low voice said. She looked up, startled and wondering. "Hanani!" she said. "Yes, it is Hanani." The woman's husky whisper came reassuringly in answer. "Have no fear, mem-sahib! You are safe here."
"Ahmed," urged Kathlyn, "leave the gharry and come with us." "No, Mem-sahib," Ahmed gazed at her strangely "I have work to do, much work. Allah guard you!" He struck the horse with his bamboo stick and careened away. "Let us be off!" cried Bruce. "We have sixty miles to put between us and freedom in fact. We can not make the railway. Ali, pack! Go to the bungalow and remain there.
But he comforted himself with the thought of Peter. He was sure that Peter would take care of her. Yes, Peter would care for his beloved mem-sahib, whatever his physical disabilities. He would never fail in the execution of that his sacred duty while the power to do so was his. If all others failed her, yet would Peter remain faithful.
It won't do you any harm to come back and give an account of yourself that is, if you are harmless." He pulled the retreating native unceremoniously back into the light. The man made some resistance, but there was a mastery about Bernard that would not be denied. Hobbling, misshapen, muttering in his beard, he returned. "Mem-sahib!"
Ralston nearly stumbled over a crouching, white-clad figure that rose up swiftly and noiselessly on the instant and resolved itself into the salaaming person of Peter the Sikh. He had slept across Stella's threshold ever since her bereavement. "My mem-sahib is still awake," he told her with a touch of wistfulness. "She sleeps only when the night is nearly spent."
Word Of The Day