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I was in England when he was killed. I was a child only seven years of age. Do you believe now that I am his murderer?" Brandon, while speaking in this way, had relaxed his hold, though he still held his pistol pointed at the head of his prostrate enemy. Vijal gave a long, low sigh. "You were too young," said he, at last. "You are younger than I am. I was only twelve."
She afterward told me that Vijal had escaped further punishment in spite of John's threats, and hinted that they were half afraid of him. The next day, on attempting to go out, Philips told me that I was not to be permitted to leave the house. I considered it the result of John's threat, and yielded without a word. After this I had to seek distraction from my thoughts within the house.
He never looked at me when I met him, but always at the ground, without seeming to be aware of my existence. The Malay was passing out when John called out to him, "Hi, there, Vijal!" Vijal looked carelessly at him. "Here!" cried John, in the tone with which he would have addressed his dog. Vijal stopped carelessly. "Pick up my hat, and hand it to me." His hat had fallen down behind him.
Vijal had locked it from the inside. Asgeelo led the way with a swift step. They went down the main avenue, and at length reached the gate without any interruption. The gates were shut. Beatrice looked around in some dread for fear of being discovered. Asgeelo said nothing, but tapped at the door of the porter's lodge. The door soon opened, and the porter came out.
I will help you over the wall." He raised her up. She clambered to the top, where she rested for a moment. "God bless you, Vijal, and good-by!" said she. Vijal said nothing. The next moment she was on the other side. The road lay there. It ran north away from the village. Along this road Beatrice walked swiftly.
He judged that enemy by himself, and he knew that he would not stop in the search after vengeance, that nothing short of the fullest and direst ruin nothing, in fact, short of death itself would satisfy him. John was with him, and Vijal, who alone out of all the servants had followed his fortunes.
He saw by that one look what he had not thought of before in his excitement, that Brandon was a younger man than himself by several years. He was silent. "How many years is it since your father died?" Vijal said nothing. "Fool!" exclaimed Brandon. "It is twenty years. You are false to your father. You pretend to avenge his death, and you seek out a young man who had no connection with it.
The servants had taken their station around the room at John's order. As Potts spoke they stood there looking at the stranger, but not one of them moved. Vijal only started forward. The stranger turned toward him and looked in his face. Vijal glanced around in surprise, waiting for the other servants. "You devils!" cried Potts, "do you hear what I say? Seize that man!" None of the servants moved.
John was anxious not to show himself, so he went at once to the inn, directing Vijal to keep a look-out for Brandon and let him know if he saw any one who looked like him. These directions were accompanied and intermingled with numerous threats as to what he would do if Vijal dared to fail in any particular.
"Haven't you got eyes? D n you; I wish the fellow, whoever he is, had seized you, or blown your brains out." Vijal cast down his eyes humbly. "I can try again," said he. "I have made a mistake this time; the next time I will make sure." There was something in the tone of his voice so remorseless and so vengeful that Potts felt reassured. "You are a good lad," said he, "a good lad.
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