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Updated: May 27, 2025
WHILE Alwa raged alone, and while Mahommed Gunga talked to Cunningham in a rock-room near at hand, Rosemary McClean saw fit to take a hand in history. It was not her temperament to sit quite idle while others shaped her destiny; nor was she given to mere brooding over wrongs.
He was grumbling still about the honor of a Rangar, when Alwa called a halt in the shelter of a deserted side street in order to question Ali Partab further. Ali Partab protested that he did not know what to say or think about the missionaries. He explained his orders and vowed that his honor held him there in Howrah until Miss McClean should consent to come away.
Under another form, nevertheless, it has been detected as indubitably solar. A triplet of dark lines low down in the red, photographed from the sun by Higgs and McClean, was clearly identified by Runge and Paschen in 1896 with the fundamental group of an oxygen series, first seen by Piazzi Smyth in the spectrum of a vacuum-tube in 1883.
This was a friend one lone friend of her own sex amid all the waste of smouldering hate some one surely to be wept over and made much of and caressed. The poor old hag recovered consciousness with her head pillowed on a European lap, and Duncan McClean no stickler for convention and no believer in a line too tightly drawn saw fit to remonstrate as he laid the jar of water down beside them.
He knew that the members of the little band on Alwa's rock would keep their individual and collective word, and therefore that Rosemary McClean would come to him.
"Patience, sahib! Show me the coins again one little look again once!" But Ali Partab would wheel and ride away, leaving her to mumble and gibber in the road and curl again on to her blanket in the blackest corner by the door. Once, on an expedition of that kind, he encountered Duncan McClean himself.
Byng rode up to the lumbering vehicle, signing to Cunningham to follow him. "General Byng," said Cunningham. "Miss McClean, sir." A very much dishevelled and very weary-looking young woman with a wealth of chestnut hair leaned through the window and smiled, not at the General but at Cunningham. Byng stared looked from one to the other of them and said "Hu-rrrr-umph!" again.
Therefore, he proposed to forestall Cunningham if possible, and, if that were inconvenient or rash, he meant to take other means of making Rosemary McClean his, beyond dispute, in any case. Next to Rosemary McClean he coveted most the throne of Howrah.
Finally, he made up his mind once and for all that Rosemary McClean must remain inviolate until he was quite certain that the English had been driven out of India. He expected that good news within a week. He was delighted when Joanna, dressed as a man, turned up at his palace-gates and cajoled her way in past the guards.
Duncan McClean turned from her drew his hand away and walked to open the slit shutters. A moment later he came back, once more master of himself. "As things are, dear," he said gently, "how would it be possible for us to get away?" "'We canna gang awa'!" she quoted, with a smile. "NO, lassie. We must stay here and be brave. This matter is not in our hands. We must wait, and watch, and see.
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