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Updated: May 2, 2025
I am going to the officers' picnic at Khanmulla on the twenty-fourth for instance." "Being a case of 'Needs must'," suggested Stella. "By no means." Monck leaned forward to light another cigarette. "I am going for a particular purpose.
"No one likes the fellow. He is suspected of being a leper. But he is clever. He is undoubtedly clever. I remember his absence. It was at the time of that mission to Khanmulla, the mission I wanted Monck to take in hand." "Exactly." Major Burton rapped out the word with a sound like the cracking of a nut. "We or rather Barnes tried to pump Hafiz about it, but he was a mass of ignorance and lies.
He continued to tramp to and fro. "You haven't much to thank me for. I had to think of the Regiment; but I considered the step very carefully before I took it. He had rendered invaluable service especially over this Khanmulla trial. He would have been decorated for it if " he pulled up with a jerk "if things had been different.
An ominous calm prevailed at Khanmulla during the week that followed the conviction of Ermsted's murderer and the disappearance of the Rajah. All Markestan seemed to be waiting with bated breath. But, save for the departure of the women from Kurrumpore, no sign was given by the Government of any expectation of a disturbance.
"Aunt Stella," she cried breathlessly, "Mother says she's sure you and Uncle Everard won't go to the officers' picnic at Khanmulla this year. It isn't true, is it, Aunt Stella? You will go, and you'll take me with you, won't you?" The officers' picnic at Khanmulla! The words called up a flood of memory in Stella's heart.
Clearly before her inner vision rose the scene, Everard sinking down, broken and inert, all the indomitable strength of him shattered at last, the steady courage quenched. Yet what was it he had once said to her? It rushed across her now words he had uttered long ago on the night he had taken her to the ruined temple at Khanmulla. "My love is not the kind that burns and goes out."
It was more a matter for her husband's skill than for hers, and he could only prescribe absolute quiet. For Netta was utterly broken. Since the fatal moment when she had returned from a call in her 'rickshaw to find Major Burton awaiting her with the news that Ermsted had been shot on the jungle-road while riding home from Khanmulla, she had been as one distraught.
It was only the trial at Khanmulla that had delayed the sending in of his papers. He was as much a broken man, however hotly Tommy contested the point, as if he had been condemned by a court-martial. Surely, had he been truly innocent he would have demanded a court-martial and vindicated himself. But he had suffered his honour to go down in silence.
She knew vaguely that some sort of disturbance was expected at Khanmulla, and that it might spread to Kurrumpore. But her baby was too ill for travel; she had practically forced this truth from Major Ralston, and so she had no choice but to remain. She knew very well at the heart of her that it would not be for long. No thought of personal danger troubled her.
The truce between them was to be observed until the psychological moment arrived to break it, and that moment would occur some time on Christmas Eve in the moonlit solitudes of Khanmulla. Later she reflected that perhaps it was as well to go and get it over.
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