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Updated: May 1, 2025
I claim to be Naraini, Queen, wife to Har Dyal Rutton, rightful ruler of Khandawar coward, traitor, renegade who stands there!" "For the love of Heaven, Rowan, shut her up!" cried Labertouche. "It's all a pack of lies; the woman's raving. Rutton's dead, in the first place; in the second, he's her father. She can't be his wife very well, whether he's alive or dead.
He was by turns apparently possessed by fear, malice, distrust, a subtle sense of triumph, contempt for Amber, deference to Rutton, and a feeling that he was master not alone of the situation but of the man whom he professed to honor so extravagantly. At length Rutton looked up, suppressing a sigh. "Your errand, babu?" "Is it, then, your will that I should speak before this man?"
"I daresay all this sounds hopelessly melodramatic and neurotic and tommyrotic, David, but ... I can tell you nothing more. I'm sorry." "But only let me help you any way in my power, Rutton. There's nothing I'd not do...." "I know, David, I know it. But my case is beyond human aid, since I am powerless to apply a remedy myself." "And you are powerless?" Rutton was silent a long moment.
In the hut, Rutton lay dead of poison; somewhere amongst the dunes the babu lay in his blood, shot to death foully murdered, the world would say. Should these things become known, he would be detained indefinitely in Nokomis as a witness if, indeed, he escaped a graver charge. It was, then, with a mind burdened with black anxiety that he went to arouse Doggott.
"I'm in no danger whatever; humanity is, if I'm found." "I don't follow you at all." Again Rutton smiled wearily. "I didn't expect you to, David. But this misadventure makes it necessary that I should tell you something; you must be made to believe in me. I beg you to; I'm neither mad nor making game of you." There was no questioning the sane sincerity of the man. He continued slowly.
It was like an ordinary race-meeting, except that men were running instead of horses. Rutton was a quiet little place for the majority of the year, but it woke up on this day, and was evidently out to enjoy itself.
"You know what Bengalis are; that fellow'd do anything, brave any ordinary danger, rather than try to cross that sandbar again if he really came that way; which I am inclined to doubt. On the other hand, he's intelligent enough to know that a night like this in the dunes would kill him. Well, what then?" Rutton was not listening.
And he heard nothing save the endless raving of the maniac wind. "What is it?" he inquired at length, unable longer to endure the tensity of the pause. "Nothing. I beg your pardon, David." Rutton returned to his chair, making a visible effort to shake off his preoccupation. "It's an ugly night, out there. Lucky you blundered on this place. Tell me how it happened.
The Rutton Recreation Ground presented, as the Stapleton Herald justly remarked in its next week's issue, 'a gay and animated appearance'. There was a larger crowd than Charteris had expected.
Or had the tamasha been arranged in order to gather together all the rulers in Rajputana without exciting suspicion, that they might agree upon a concerted plan of mutiny against the Sirkar? This state affair of surpassing importance had been arranged for the last day of grace allotted the Prince of the house of Rutton.
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