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Updated: June 5, 2025
He dropped his head into his hands and frenziedly clutched at his hair with twitching fingers. The faint sound occasioned by the opening of one of the sliding doors brought him sharply upright. Miska entered! She looked so bewilderingly beautiful that terror and sorrow fled, leaving Stuart filled only with passionate admiration.
At any moment they may be here!" Miska dropped weakly upon her knees before him and clasped his hand. "Chunda Lal, my friend! Oh, forgive me!" Her voice broke. "Forgive ..." Chunda Lal raised her gently. "Not upon your knees to me, Miska. It was a little thing to do for you. Did I not tell you that he had cast his eyes upon you? Mine was the voice you heard to cry out.
"If I speak in French will you be able to follow what I say?" "Certainly. Are you more at ease with French?" "Yes," replied Miska, beginning to speak in the latter language. "My mother was French, you see, and although I can speak in English fairly well I cannot yet think in English. Do you understand? "Perfectly. So perhaps you will now explain to whom you refer when you speak of Fo-Hi."
Miska watched him, wild-eyed. "And he knows," continued the metallic voice, "'how to deal with Chunda Lal'? But it may be that Chunda Lal will know how to deal with him! I had suspected that Dr. Keppel Stuart entertained an unprofessional interest in his charming patient.
His broad peasant's head between his hands, he crouched like a dog at the feet of his dying master, and the tears rolled gently down his cheeks and stuck one by one on the ends of his mustache glued with dust and pomade. It was not quite clear to Miska either just why the poor Lieutenant kept clamoring so frightfully for his talking-machine.
She shuddered wildly and hid her beautiful face against Stuart's breast. He threw his arms about her. "Tell me," he said. "With the needle, he ... inject ..." "Miska!" Stuart felt the blood rushing to his heart and knew that he had paled. "There is something else," she went on, almost inaudibly, "with which he gives life again to those he had made dead with the needle.
He leapt toward Miska and she fled shrieking before him. Running around a couch which stood near the centre of the room, she sprang to the door and beat upon it madly. "Chunda Lal!" she cried "Chunda Lal!" Fo-Hi was close upon her, and she turned striving to elude him. "Oh, merciful God! Chunda Lal!" The name burst from her lips in a long frenzied scream. Fo-Hi had seized her!
Stricken silent with fear, Miska staggered back against the lacquered door, dropping the keys which she held in her hand. Fo-Hi had removed the cowled garment and was now arrayed in a rich mandarin robe. Through the grotesque green veil which obscured his features the brilliant eyes shone catlike. "So," he said softly, "you speed the parting guest. And did I not hear the sound of a chaste salute?"
Rolling his eyes in the direction of the eastern wall, he concealed the knife. "Chunda Lal!" Miska spoke wildly. "I am frightened! Please let me go, and tomorrow " "To-morrow!" Chunda Lal raised his eyes, which were alight with the awful light of fanaticism. "For me there may be no tomorrow! Jey Bhowani! Yah Allah!" "Oh, he may hear you!" whispered Miska pitifully. "Please go now.
But supreme above all the other truths in the world, the joyous truth that Miska was to live set Stuart's heart on fire. "Thank God!" he said fervently "oh, thank God! Miska!" At the garden-door a group of men awaited them.
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