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Updated: May 6, 2025
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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