woman,
bereft
of
her
treasure
also
,
lying
in
a
glitter
of
gold
and
crimson
on
the
Altar
steps
.
Passed
on
a
mission
of
peace
to
the
living
;
on
the
chance
of
gaining
the
ear
,
the
eye
,
of
that
waiting
crowd
outside
in
the
courtyard
.
As
he
went
rapidly
,
yet
with
the
faltering
step
every
now
and
again
of
one
wearied
by
long
journeying
,
down
the
arched
passage
,
Ninian
Bruce
scarcely
thought
of
success
or
failure
.
There
was
a
wistful
triumph
in
his
face--he
looked
as
a
slave
might
look
who
dies
in
making
himself
free
.
He
did
not
think
even
of
the
strangeness
of
the
little
procession
.
The
night
had
been
so
full
of
strange
things
;
but
the
dawn
had
come
,
and
he
had
a
message
to
give
those
waiting
souls
outside--the
souls
who
were
being
kept
back
from
the
"
Cradle
of
the
Gods
"
by
that
fear
of
the
Eternal
Womanhood
.
"
Set
the
door
wide
,
Akbar
,
"
he
said
,
and
then
his
voice
merged
into
the
"
Salutaris
.
"
So
,
as
the
crowd
turned
at
the
sound
of
the
opening
door
,
the
sound
of
the
chanting
voice
,
it
saw
,
raised
above
it
,
dim
against
an
arched
shadow
,
seen
by
the
grey
light
of
daybreak
and
the
flicker
of
two
tall
tapers
,
a
strange
star-rayed
cup
shining
in
the
clasped
hands
of
a
man
.
An
old
man
in
a
strange
dress
,
chanting
a
strange
song
.
And
the
sight
,
by
its
very
strangeness
,
its
claim
to
something
beyond
familiarity
,
was
not
strange
to
that
restless
crowd
,
waiting
for
a
sign
,
waiting
for
something
not
in
themselves
.
"
What
is
it
?
What
means
it
?
"
The
whisper
came
like
the
soft
hush
of
a
wave
;
and
above
it
the
chant
rose
clearly
.
"
'
Tis
Pidar
Narâyan
and
his
God
!
"
said
those
of
the
city
who
knew
,
as
they
fell
back
instinctively
from
the
raised
path
.
And
those
who
did
not
know
followed
suit
in
awed
bewilderment
,
till
the
way
was
clear
,
and
the
little
procession
passed
on
slowly
above
the
jammed
mass
of
humanity
,
above
the
sea
of
upturned
expectant
faces
.
"
'
Tis
Pidar
Narâyan
,
who
went
with
my
father
,
"
said
one
here
and
there
.
"
Mayhap
he
goes
now--let
us
see
.
"
"
Yea
!
let
us
see
!
"
answered
others
.
That
slantwise
limb
of
the
union-jack
of
raised
paths
which
crossed
from
one
corner
to
the
other
of
the
courtyard--from
the
door
in
the
palace
to
the
wide
archway
through
which
the
pilgrims
always
passed
on
their
way
to
the
"
Cradle
of
the
Gods
"
--cleared
itself
by
common
consent
,
edged
itself
with
a
thicker
throng
of
curious
faces
.
Only
in
the
middle
it
was
barred
by
the
big
old
gun
,
by
the
"
Teacher
of
Religion
"
as
its
legend
boasted
,
and
by
the
man
who
claimed
to
be
its
mouthpiece
.
For
jogi
Gorakh-nâth
,
recognizing
his
adversary
,
recognizing
the
danger
of
his
influence
,
had
slipped
from
his
post
above
,
and
now
stood
before
the
gun
,
full
in
the
path
,
defending
it
with
frenzied
wavings
of
his
chaplet
of
skulls
.
"
Listen
not
,
brothers
!
"
he
yelled
.
"
Jai
Kali
Ma
!
Blood
!
Blood
!
Without
blood
is
no
remission
of
sins
.
"
And
now
a
new
curiosity
,
a
new
interest
,
came
to
that
crowd
of
mere
men
.
What
would
happen
?
What
would
these
two
,
mere
men
like
themselves
,
do
?
Which
was
backed
by
divine
authority
?
That
both
claimed
that
authority
was
clear
.
It
held
its
breath
,
partly
from
the
desire
for
a
sign
from
God
,
partly
because
of
the
desire
which
humanity
always
has
for
a
sign
of
the
best
man
.
Let
the
two
try
which
was
the
better
.
So
it
waited
,
ready
to
approve
either
,
till
those
two
,
the
Eastern
and
the
Western
sacerdotalisms
,
met
face
to
face
,
within
two
yards
of
each
other
,
in
the
centre
of
the
courtyard
,
on
the
platform
before
the
"
Teacher
of
Religion
.
"
Then
,
not
till
then
,
Pidar
Narâyan
ceased
his
chant
,
shifted
the
pyx
to
his
left
hand
,
and
with
his
right
drew
the
rapier
hidden
till
then
by
his
long
robes
.
"
Aha
,
A-ha-a
,
"
sighed
the
crowd
approvingly
.
There
would
be
a
bodily
as
well
as
a
spiritual
fight
,
for
jogi-jee
's
chaplet
of
skulls
swirled
dangerously
for
both
attack
and
defence
;
since
a
swinging
blow
from
it
would
kill
a
man
,
and
its
circling
sweep
keep
him
beyond
sword-point
reach
.
Which
would
be
the
better
man--the
better
weapon
?
But
Pidar
Narâyan
did
not
attack
.
He
only
stood
,
the
pyx
in
one
hand
,
the
sword
in
the
other--alternatives
as
it
were--and
called
in
a
loud
voice--
"
Let
me
pass
,
jogi
Gorakh-nâth
!
"
Let
me
pass
I
say
!
"
For
I
carry
my
GOD
!
"
Over
the
whole
courtyard
,
waking
now
from
shadow
to
light
under
the
coming
day
,
the
claim
echoed
sharply
;
and
the
arrogance
of
it
,
the
strength
,
the
certainty
of
it
,
sank
deep
into
the
souls
of
those
who
heard
it
.
There
was
not
a
sound
,
not
a
movement
;
only
a
vast
,
breathless
expectancy
,
and
Pidar
Narâyan
's
fine
old
face
set
like
the
nether
mill-stone
.
Everything
that
had
ever
been
in
him--love
,
passion
,
faith
,
worldly
wisdom
,
sympathy--the
grit
of
the
whole
man--rose
up
and
claimed
the
crowd
.
"
Let
me
pass
!
"
he
cried
again
,
in
absolute
command
,
and
this
time
the
rapier
,
twisting
like
a
snake
,
caught
the
chaplet
of
skulls
in
its
upward
swirl
,
a
dexterous
unexpected
turn
of
the
old
fencer
's
wrist
followed
,
sending
it
flying
from
the
jogi
's
hand
.
The
next
instant
(
the
rope
on
which
they
were
strung
severed
by
the
strain
,
by
the
rapier
's
edge
)
,
the
skulls
were
clattering
,
bounding
like
balls
,
like
useless
toys
,
on
the
stone
platform
.
"
A-ha
!
A-ha
!
"
came
from
the
crowd
;
but
the
sigh
was
but
half
content
,
and
men
looked
at
each
other
wonderingly
.
Since
,
no
matter
which
priest
was
the
better
man
,
these
were
Mai
Kali
's
drinking-cups
.
The
jogi
,
however
,
had
fallen
back
a
step
,
and
Pidar
Narâyan
was
in
his
place
by
the
old
gun
.
Pidar
Narâyan
and
his
strange
God
were
now
the
"
Teachers
of
Religion
.
"
What
had
they
to
say
?
The
crowd
had
not
to
wait
long
,
for
Father
Ninian
's
voice
,
with
that
nameless
ring
in
it
which
makes
the
orator
and
makes
the
audience
,
was
already
in
its
ears
.
"
Listen
!
Listen
to
me
,
for
I
carry
in
this
cup
the
Blood
of
Sacrifice
.
The
Victim
required
by
your
God
and
mine
,
by
all
the
Gods
,
is
here
!
"
We
are
free
,
brothers
!
you
and
I
.
The
Eternal
Womanhood
hath
had
Her
toll
,
in
full
.
The
Great
Mother
is
appeased
.
There
is
no
fear
.
"
Lift
up
your
eyes
unto
the
hills
,
from
whence
cometh
your
help
,
and
follow
me
and
my
God
,
to
find
yours
.
"
He
pointed
with
the
sword--as
he
paused
a
second
for
breath
,
for
strength--to
the
mountains
;
to
those
far
peaks
which
,
now
that
the
storm
had
ended
,
the
earth-atoms
returned
to
earth
,
had
begun
to
show
spectral
in
the
dawn
.
To
show
shadowy
,
yet
clear
,
with
never
a
wreath
of
mist
or
a
wandering
cloud
to
hide
the
hollow
whither
the
feet
of
millions
had
journeyed
seeking
righteousness
,
and
journeyed
in
vain
.
Faint
and
far
they
showed
against
the
faint
,
far
sky
,
but
as
Father
Ninian
pointed
to
them
,
a
ray
of
light
from
the
still
unseen
sun
below
the
visible
horizon
of
this
world
,
a
ray
of
light
seeking
perhaps
another
world
among
the
stars
,
found
the
heights
of
the
holy
hills
in
its
path
,
and
dyed
their
snowdrifts
red--blood
red
!
At
the
sight
a
roar
rose
from
the
crowd
.
"
Jai
Kali
Ma
!
She
gives
a
sign
!
The
sacrifice
is
there
!
She
is
appeased
!
He
speaks
the
truth
.
Let
us
follow
him
and
his
God
!
"
"
Ay
!
as
my
father
did
,
"
cried
one
.
"
And
mine
!
"
"
And
mine
!
"
assented
some
,
while
others
forgot
all
save
pilgrimage
in
the
shout--
"
Râm
,
Râm
,
Sita
Râm
!
"
"
Hârâ
!
Hârî
!
Hârî
!
Hârâ
!
"
So
,
on
that
babel
of
sounds
,
Pidar
Narâyan
's
voice
rose
steadily
as
,
preceded
by
that
ambling
figure--strangest
of
all
acolytes--he
walked
on
,
chanting
the
121st
Psalm
:
--
"
Levavi
oculos
meos
in
montes
;
unde
veniet
auxilium
mihi
.
"
The
words
were
in
an
unknown
tongue
,
the
rhythm
strange
,
but
the
spirit
,
the
idea
,
were
familiar
.
It
was
the
song
of
someone
seeking
the
"
Cradle
of
the
Gods
,
"
as
they
were
.
"
He
carries
his
God
,
and
that
means
all
,
"
said
an
old
man
,
pushing
his
way
to
follow
.
"
The
other
had
none
:
how
could
he
lead
the
way
?
"
"
That
is
true
,
"
assented
many
,
following
suit
.
And
some
,
shrugging
their
shoulders
,
said
,
"
He
is
mad
.
God
has
touched
his
brain
.
Then
he
goes
the
way
our
fathers
went
.
They
lingered
not
beyond
the
second
dawn
.
Why
should
we
?
"
"
Râm
!
Râm
!
Sita
Râm
!
"
Thus
,
swiftly
,
the
footfalls
gathered
in
strength
behind
the
little
procession
,
and
no
one
dared
to
stop
it
;
not
even
the
Mahomedan
sentry
at
the
Fort
gate
,
to
whom
some
of
the
agitators
ran
in
their
disappointment
.
He
only
laughed
contemptuously
;
though
his
gravity
returned
somewhat
at
his
recognition
of
old
Akbar
Khân
.
"
Lo
!
that
is
a
new
walking
for
him
!
"
he
muttered
,
in
an
awed
voice
.
"
Truly
,
folk
are
right
when
they
say
there
is
magic
in
these
idolaters
.
Who
would
have
deemed
him
pilgrim
?
Well
!
let
him
go
,
he
and
his
mummery
.
We
soldiers
can
do
without
priests
and
Hindoos
!
"
He
twirled
his
mustache
fiercely
,
and
wondered
when
his
comrades
would
return
victorious
from
the
gaol
,
and
give
the
word
for
plunder
.
That
was
all
he
cared
for
.
"
Ay
!
"
assented
an
angry
voice
,
joining
the
group
,
"
we
can
do
without
the
fools
.
There
be
plenty
of
wise
men
left
.
"
"
Plenty
,
"
put
in
another
;
"
but
their
mood
is
different
.
See
how
they
wander
!
"
It
was
true
.
The
crowd
had
broken
into
groups
,
and
from
these
,
pilgrims
,
singly
,
or
in
smaller
groups
,
were
drifting
after
the
lessening
sound
of
that
chanting
voice
.
Not
so
much
from
any
belief
in
Pidar
Narâyan
,
not
even
because
of
his
lead
over
,
but
because
it
was
the
old
way
;
the
way
worn
by
the
feet
of
their
fathers
,
and
their
fathers
'
fathers
.
So
jogi
Gorakh-nâth
,
who
,
now
the
coast
was
clear
,
had
sprung
aloft
on
the
old
gun
,
once
more
attempting
to
regain
his
empire
,
failed
egregiously
.
The
crowd
passed
him
by
till
a
big
countryman
,
with
a
lumbering
jest
,
asked
him
if
he
was
sure
he
had
picked
up
the
right
skull
to
put
on
his
own
shoulders
.
Then
it
laughed
uproariously
.
"
Best
come
on
to
the
Pool
of
Immortality
,
"
suggested
a
conspirator
,
consolingly
,
as
he
hurried
past
.
"
'
Tis
no
use
here
.
The
fools
have
followed
after
strange
gods
and
men
.
But
at
the
Pool
there
are
tens
of
thousands
to
one
here
;
and
they
are
weary
waiting
.
Besides
,
'
tis
nearer
the
gaol
.
Between
the
two
success
will
lie
.
"
"
Yea
,
"
added
another
,
"
that
was
the
first
plan--the
soldiers
and
the
Fort
spoilt
it
.
But
the
Pool
and
the
gaol
remain
.
"
Jogi
Gorakh-nâth
,
with
a
scowl
,
gathered
up
his
skulls
to
a
bundle
and
followed
hastily
.
He
would
at
least
be
out
of
hearing
of
that
chanting
voice
.
It
had
reached
the
last
verse
of
its
Psalm
now
,
and
faltered
a
little
over
the
words
:
--
"
Dominus
custodiat
introitum
tuum
et
exitum
tuum
:
ex
hoc
et
usque
in
saeculum
.
"
But
the
echo
of
the
footsteps
behind
filled
up
the
blanks
.
FOILED
On
the
gaol
or
the
Pool
of
Immortality
lay
the
hopes
of
those
whom
Pidar
Narâyan
had
so
far
discomfited
by
his
arrogant
claim
to
stand
between
heaven
and
earth
;
in
other
words
,
to
be
in
personal
relations
with
the
Great
Awarder
of
gaols
and
immortalities
,
forgivenesses
,
and
punishments
.
But
the
stars
in
their
courses
,
hidden
though
they
had
been
by
the
storm-darkness
,
had
used
that
very
darkness
to
the
due
maintenance
of
law
and
order
as
they
wheeled
serenely
to
meet
the
coming
dawn
.
When
Lance
,
for
instance--his
heart
torn
in
twain
by
his
desire
to
follow
Erda
's
fate
at
all
costs
and
his
knowledge
that
,
if
he
was
to
do
the
best
for
others
he
must
leave
her
to
face
it
alone--had
struck
down
stream
on
Am-ma
's
strange
craft
,
his
sole
intention
had
been
to
rouse
the
police
camp
,
and
secure
what
help
he
could
for
the
gaol
.
But
the
darkness
set
him
another
task
.
For
,
after
drifting
past
the
spit
,
whence
he
had
meant
to
cut
across
by
land
to
the
bridge
of
boats
,
and
so
,
creeping
past
the
city
,
find
the
camp
beyond
it
,
he
had
lost
himself
absolutely
in
the
maze
of
sand-banks
and
shallow
channels
which
,
when
the
river
was
low
,
as
it
was
now
,
lay
like
a
network
between
the
deep
stream
of
the
Hara
,
and
the
deep
stream
of
the
Hari
.
Lost
himself
so
utterly
that
,
realizing
his
own
bewilderment
,
he
had
called
himself
a
fool
for
having
lost
himself
!
A
curious
discouragement
came
to
him
.
Yet
it
made
him
more
dogged
and
persistent
,
even
while
the
hopelessness
of
finding
his
way
grew
every
second
.
Surely
,
thought
he
,
he
could
not
be
such
a
fool
as
to
fail
!
Sometimes
a
sudden
belief
that
he
really
had
had
some
faint
indication
of
his
bearings
would
make
him
put
all
his
young
strength
into
the
paddle
,
until
once
more
a
soft
,
yielding
,
yet
irresistible
,
impact
came
to
tell
him
that
he
had
failed
again
,
that
he
was
on
another
sandbank
,
and
another
,
and
another
!
The
dull
concussion
of
them
seemed
to
pass
into
his
brain
;
he
found
himself
fumbling
on
almost
aimlessly
,
despite
his
doggedness
,
his
mind
busy
with
imagining
the
things
which
might
be
happening
in
the
dark
around
him
.
For
all
he
knew
close
by--
There
lay
the
sting
!
It
was
suffocating
to
be
set
,
as
it
were
,
in
the
solid
darkness
like--he
thought
of
a
fly
in
amber
,
the
birds
he
had
limed
in
his
boyhood
,
finally
of
a
death
mask
.
That
was
more
like
it--he
felt
as
the
corpse
must
feel--clogged
,
hampered
,
helpless
!
In
such
conditions
minutes
seem
hours
;
and
Lance
,
in
reality
,
had
not
been
drifting
about
for
half
of
one
before
the
certainty
that
his
mission
must
inevitably
be
useless
unless
he
could
fulfil
it
more
expeditiously
,
made
him
resolve
on
trying
conclusions
with
the
river
at
first
hand
.
He
was
a
good
swimmer
.
As
he
told
himself
this
,
the
first
pulse
of
gratitude
he
had
ever
felt
for
the
big
bully
who
had
chucked
him
,
a
small
boy
in
his
first
term
at
Harrow
,
into
"
Ducker
"
to
take
his
chance
,
came
to
him
;
for
those
few
minutes
of
despairing
effort
had
taught
him
more
than
mere
swimming
;
they
had
taught
him
to
trust
himself
in
water
.
More
,
at
any
rate
,
than
in
a
beastly
contrivance
made
of
beds
and
footballs
,
with
no
stem
,
no
stern
,
and
a
devilish
habit
of
spinning
in
every
eddy
like
a
teetotum
!
The
mere
condemnation
of
Am-ma
's
craft
,
being
a
prelude
to
better
things
,
raised
his
spirits
.
He
flung
off
his
clothes
,
and
,
knowing
he
could
not
hope
to
keep
his
revolver
dry
,
improvised
a
waistcloth
out
of
the
silk
sash
he
wore
instead
of
a
waistcoat
,
in
which
to
stick
the
hunting-knife
that
was
his
only
other
weapon
.
As
he
did
so
,
he
thought
of
the
deer
the
knife
had
killed
;
as
men
think
idly
,
irrelevantly
,
of
such
trivialities
when
their
attention
is
really
concentrated
on
something
that
is
,
as
yet
,
outside
experience
.
And
Lance
,
as
he
slipped
into
the
water
,
knew
himself
prepared
to
swim
or
wade
,
but
knew
nothing
else
.
So
,
doggedly
as
before
,
and
infinitely
quicker
,
he
went
on
through
the
darkness
;
sometimes
feeling
himself
in
the
cool
water
,
sometimes
finding
his
feet
on
warm
sand
,
sometimes
parting
a
way
,
he
knew
not
where
,
through
the
low
tamarisk
and
high
grass
marking
an
island
.
If
he
could
have
guessed
which
island
,
or
even
known
which
way
his
face
was
set
,
these
light
swishing
touches
might
have
been
guides
;
but
he
knew
nothing
.
Until
,
after
a
time
,
a
faint
far
glow
,
a
mere
suspicion
of
something
not
outer
darkness
,
showed
on
his
left
.
Even
so
,
he
could
not
guess
whether
that
meant
the
gaol
side
,
or
the
city
side
of
the
rivers
.
If
the
former
,
could
the
gaol
have
been
fired
by
those
devils
?
The
thought
made
him
set
his
teeth
,
and
,
dry
sand
being
beneath
his
feet
,
run
on
recklessly
towards
the
glow
.
Only
for
a
yard
or
two
,
however
;
then
he
pulled
up
short
,
amazed
to
find
that
it
was
not
far
,
but
near
;
that
it
came
from
the
ground
,
from
a
leaping
fire
of
tamarisk
branches
within
a
stone
's
throw
of
him
.
A
step
or
two
more
,
in
fact
,
showed
him
a
cooking-pot
,
the
remains
of
some
food
,
a
familiar
fishing-net
,
and
a
chrysalis-looking
figure
wrapped
in
a
blanket
and
half-buried
in
the
sand
.
One
of
the
fisher
folk
,
by
all
that
was
lucky
!
If
anyone
could
tell
,
they
could
.
It
was
only
a
slender
stem
of
tiger-grass
which
snapped
under
his
feet
,
but
the
noise
was
sufficient
.
The
sleeper
sprang
to
his
like
a
wild
animal
,
the
blanket
falling
from
him
,
one
lithe
arm
making
for
the
long
spear
stuck
in
the
sand
beside
him
.
Gu-gu
!
The
missing
Gu-gu
!
Lance
had
him
back
in
his
sand-bed
before
hand
and
spear
met
.
There
was
no
struggle
.
Gu-gu
,
knowing
himself
helpless
,
lay
limp
,
slack
,
every
muscle
proclaiming
capitulation
;
in
so
far
showing
himself
something
less
than
a
wild
animal
,
which
struggles
till
it
dies
,
reckless
of
odds
.
But
,
in
truth
,
Gu-gu
,
with
the
certainty
of
speedy
extinction
before
him
,
due
to
that
cursed
ghost
,
had
given
in
to
fate
utterly
,
all
round
.
Death
would
come
when
it
came
.
All
that
remained
,
therefore
,
was
to
make
others
suffer
if
he
could
.
Especially
those
who
were
responsible
for
altering
the
currents
of
the
river
.
With
one
of
these
on
top
of
you
,
this
was
impossible
;
but
time
might
bring
opportunity
.
"
You
devil
!
"
cried
Lance
,
throttling
the
abject
jelly
by
way
of
emphasis
,
"
you
know
all
about
this
business
,
of
course
;
but
now
I
've
found
you
,
you
'll
have
to
do
mine
,
--or
I
'll
kill
you
.
Do
you
understand
?
Now
,
which
way
is
the
town
?
"
Gu-gu
pointed
in
the
direction
whence
Lance
had
come
.
The
latter
frowned
,
realizing
that
it
was
impossible
to
know
if
the
brute
spoke
truth
,
but
that
,
unfortunately
,
he
must
be
trusted
.
"
Then
get
up
,
"
he
said
curtly
,
taking
care
to
keep
the
jelly
within
reach
of
his
knife
,
"
and
show
me
the
way
there
.
I
'll
give
you
a
hundred
rupees
if
you
do
;
and
if
you
don't--
"
He
gave
the
yielding
flesh
an
explanatory
prick
.
"
Does
the
Huzoor
mean
the
Pool
of
Immortality
?
"
asked
Gu-gu
,
affably
;
and
the
words
made
Lance
remember
that
fruitless
waiting
for
the
water
.
"
Ah
!
you
did
manage
that
swindle
,
did
you
?
"
he
replied
savagely
,
"
and
of
course
you
were
camping
out
of
the
way
.
I
see
!
No
!
I
do
n't
want
to
go
there
yet
.
To
the
bridge
!
So
quick
,
march
!
or
swim
;
you
can
tell
me
about
the
other
as
we
go
along
.
It
may
be
useful
.
"
Another
prick
with
the
knife
he
held
in
one
hand
,
while
his
other
clutched
firmly
on
Gu-gu
's
hemp-strung
waist-belt
of
blue
beads
,
started
them
.
So
they
went
on
till
the
sand
grew
colder
,
less
resistant
,
changed
to
water
beneath
their
feet
;
then
Lance
's
two
hands--and
the
knife--came
down
on
Gu-gu
's
bare
back
.
"
Strike
out
,
"
he
said
briefly
;
"
I
'll
help
.
"
The
two
pair
of
legs
and
the
one
pair
of
hands
forged
ahead
into
the
darkness
none
the
less
rapidly
because
the
second
pair
of
hands
were
resting
,
--with
something
in
them--on
yielding
flesh
.
The
fact
indeed
,
or
something
else
,
seemed
to
make
Gu-gu
confidential
.
If
the
Huzoor
,
he
said
,
with
a
shameless
comprehension
which
made
Lance
inclined
to
use
the
knife
then
and
there
,
wanted
to
give
the
alarm
at
the
police
camp
,
he
was
taking
a
long
road
to
it
.
He
,
Gu-gu
,
could
show
him
a
shorter
,
if
the
Huzoor
would
trust
him
.
For
a
second
Lance
hesitated
.
He
could
not
see
the
man
's
face
;
but
there
was
a
sort
of
cunning
anxiety
in
the
tone
which
was
doubtful
.
Then
,
remembering
that
,
short
or
long
,
he
was
equally
at
the
man
's
mercy
if
he
chose
to
brave
results
--though
there
seemed
to
be
no
reason
why
he
should--he
said
quietly
,
--
"
I
told
you
to
take
the
shortest
.
"
"
The
Huzoor
can
dive
?
"
asked
Gu-gu
.
"
He
should
,
since
he
swims
so
strong
.
"
"
Dive
!
"
echoed
Lance
.
"
Yes
,
why
?
"
Because
the
short
way
,
Gu-gu
explained
,
was
by
an
underground
passage
which
could
be
only
reached
from
the
river
.
Undoubtedly
the
Huzoor
was
right
,
the
passage
had
to
do
with
the
miracle
;
but
there
must
have
been
more
than
one
miracle
in
the
old
days
,
since
there
was
quite
a
network
of
canals
and
caves
,
which
could
be
more
or
less
flooded
at
will
.
All
the
river
people
knew
of
them
,
but
few
ventured
in
;
there
was
nothing
to
be
gained
by
doing
so
,
as
a
rule
!
And
the
dive
to
reach
the
passage
was
long
and
awkward
.
But
if
the
Huzoor
would
trust--
"
Go
ahead
!
"
broke
in
Lance
,
sharply
.
He
had
to
trust
;
and
time
meant
everything
.
Besides
,
even
in
diving
,
he
could
have
his
revenge
on
that
sleek
,
yielding
back
!
For
answer
,
Gu-gu
altered
his
course
with
almost
suspicious
alacrity
;
though
,
once
more
,
Lance
could
see
no
reason
for
treachery
.
A
hundred
rupees
was
a
big
bribe
to
a
man
who
evidently
had
no
personal
interest
in
the
matter
;
else
,
why
should
he
have
been
on
the
island
instead
of
in
the
row
.
But
then
Lance
did
not
know
of
that
call
to
death
.
So
,
through
the
dark
,
the
one
pair
of
hands
and
two
pairs
of
legs
forged
ahead
till
a
sudden
arrest
of
the
former
gave
Lance
a
dull
shock
once
more
.
But
this
time
Gu-gu
's
voice
came
quite
cheerfully
:
"
The
city
wall
,
Huzoor
This
slave
must
feel
if
he
goes
up
or
down
.
"
Apparently
it
was
up
,
and
after
a
few
minutes
of
crablike
edging
Gu-gu
's
voice
came
again
:
--
"
The
tunnel
is
below
,
Protector
of
the
Poor
.
Let
the
most
noble
take
the
longest
breath
he
ever
breathed
,
then
strike
down
till
this
mean
one
's
legs
cease
moving
.
The
most
noble
one
's
must
cease
also
.
The
rest
will
this
dust-like
one
accomplish
.
Save
the
breath
.
That
is
in
the
Huzoors
own
keeping
.
Therefore
let
him
take
time
for
filling
;
and
when
he
is
ready
let
him
signal
this
slave
with--with
a
knife-prick
if
he
chooses
!
"
The
cool
grasp
of
the
position
made
Lance
smile
,
though
the
situation
,
he
knew
,
was
grave
enough
.
That
breath
to
be
drawn
might
be
his
last
;
all
the
more
reason
why
he
could
have
wished
it
less
full
of
sand
!
For
the
storm
was
now
at
its
fiercest
.
Even
here
out
on
the
river
,
over
the
water
,
the
air
seemed
solid
.
And
it
had
a
vibration
that
could
be
felt
on
the
bare
skin
.
As
he
drew
in
that
long
breath
before
trusting
himself
to
the
unseen
man
whom
he
held
within
reach
of
the
grim
signal--and
something
sharper
should
there
be
sign
of
treachery--Lance
told
himself
that
the
water
could
scarcely
be
more
suffocating
than
the
air
.
Then--the
sleek
skin
under
his
hand
shrinking
from
the
knife-prick--the
two
pairs
of
legs
and
the
one
pair
of
arms
struck
down
.
It
was
almost
a
relief
at
first
to
get
rid
of
the
stinging
dust
in
one
's
face
;
almost
a
relief
not
to
breathe
.
But
when
,
after
a
few
seconds
,
the
legs
in
front
of
him
grew
rigid
,
and
nothing
was
left
to
be
done
save
to
hold
on
desperately
to
a
waist-belt
of
blue
beads
and
one
's
own
breath
at
the
same
time
,
the
sense
of
suffocation
returned
,
and
the
question
,
"
How
much
longer
?
"
seemed
to
throb
in
his
brain
.
He
gripped
everything
he
had
to
grip
tighter
.
But
his
own
body
seemed
to
grip
his
mind
tighter
still
.
He
could
feel
the
clutch
of
his
veins--a
whole
corded
network
of
them--could
see
them
!
A
corded
,
pulsing
network
edged
with
prismatic
light
,
sending
stars
into
the
darkness
,
beating
time
to
the
singing
in
his
ears
,
to
the
fierce
duel
between
the
desire
to
gasp
and
the
determination
to
hold
on
,
--beating
time
to
the
confused
rush
of
thoughts
which
ended
in
one--
"
This
is
drowning
!
"
It
made
his
clutch
tighter
.
Gu-gu
,
at
least
,
should
drown
too
.
That
was
the
last
conscious
thought
.
It
merged
into
a
frantic
,
insistent
clamour
for
air
!
air
!
air
!
till
something
cold
hit
him
full
on
the
face
and
forced
him
into
a
quick
,
gasping
cry
,
that
left
him
senseless
.
When
he
came
to
himself
,
as
he
did
a
moment
or
two
afterwards
,
he
was
still
clutching
the
waist-belt
of
blue
beads
,
and
the
touch
of
it
lulled
him
to
an
instant
's
sheer
relief
.
The
dive
was
over
;
they
must
be
in
the
cave
;
the
cold
that
had
hit
him
in
the
face
must
have
been
the
air
.
But
what
was
he
lying
upon
?
Surely
rock
!
And
the
hand
he
moved
to
feel
it
brought
the
blue
beads
with
it
unresistingly
.
Gu-gu
!
where
was
Gu-gu
?
Gone
!
And
the
knife
too
.
It
had
been
used
to
sever
the
hempen
string
of
the
belt
.
Curious
.
It
might
have
been
used
for
a
different
and
more
deadly
purpose
;
but
you
could
never
count
on
what
fellows
would
do--even
when
they
were
treacherous
.
Lance
thought
this
dreamily
,
before
he
realized
more
than
the
fact
that
he
was
alive
;
not
drowned
.
Then
he
sat
up
hastily
and
faced
the
truth
that
he
was
alone
once
more
;
alone
in
that
network
of
underground
passages
and
caves
of
which
Gu-gu
had
spoken
.
Was
there
any
chance
of
his
getting
out
of
it
?
Not
by
the
dive
,
certainly
.
Without
help
that
was
impossible
.
He
set
himself
to
remember
what
his
guide
had
said
in
reply
to
the
questions
with
which
he
had
been
purposely
plied
.
First
,
as
to
light
.
If
Gu-gu
was
to
be
trusted
the
materials
for
this
must
be
close
at
hand
.
Lance
rose
cautiously
and
felt
about
the
ledge
on
which
he
lay
and
the
walls
of
rock
about
him
,
and
ere
long
came
on
what
he
sought
.
Flint
and
steel
,
a
box
of
tinder
,
a
bottle
of
oil
,
and
a
rag
torch
hung
in
an
old
bit
of
fishing-net
to
a
peg
that
was
driven
into
a
crevice
.
So
far
,
good
;
and
after
a
minute
these
enabled
him
to
see
that
he
was
in
a
sort
of
vaulted
well
,
half
hewn
out
of
rock
,
half
built
in
with
brick
.
It
was
filled
to
some
three
feet
or
so
with
water
,
except
in
one
corner
,
where
the
flooring
shelved
down
to
an
archway
.
There
it
was
deeper
.
This
must
be
the
opening
of
the
tunnel
through
which
they
had
dived
,
and
through
which
,
doubtless
,
Gu-gu
had
escaped
;
for
he
was
not
likely
to
have
braved
the
intricate
passages
without
a
light
.
This
thought
made
Lance
look
to
see
how
much
oil
the
bottle
contained
.
There
was
only
a
mere
driblet
at
the
bottom
.
Plainly
,
therefore
,
he
could
pause
no
longer
;
so
,
instantly
,
without
further
thought
,
he
waded
across
the
pool
and
ran
along
the
only
passage
which
led
from
it
.
He
had
to
stoop
as
he
ran
,
and
from
the
feel
to
his
feet
he
guessed
that
the
passage
led
upwards
first
,
then
downwards
;
apparently
,
too
,
in
a
perfectly
straight
line
.
The
river
,
therefore
,
must
be
behind
him
,
and
he
tried
to
make
this
point
a
fixed
one
,
so
as
to
give
him
some
notion
of
his
bearings
.
After
a
hundred
yards
or
so
he
emerged
into
a
second
cave
or
chamber
,
also
nearly
waist-deep
in
water
.
From
this
several
passages
opened
,
some
too
small
to
admit
of
a
man
passing
through
them
.
These
,
then
,
must
be
the
canals
of
which
Gu-gu
had
spoken
;
one
of
them
,
possibly
,
that
which
should
have
supplied
the
Pool
with
Immortality
.
The
memory
of
that
crowd
of
eager
,
patient
faces
,
disappointed
by
such
a
miserable
trick
,
made
Lance
feel
pitiful
;
then
his
pity
brought
a
sudden
practical
suggestion
.
Why
not
open
the
sluice
,
or
whatever
it
was
,
now
,
and
give
the
miracle
?
It
would
at
least
keep
some
of
the
crew
quiet
when
it
came
,
at
dawn
;
the
dawn
which
might
be
so
fatal
to
quiet--the
dawn
which
must
,
surely
,
be
close
at
hand
.
He
raised
the
torch
and
saw
,
close
beside
him
,
a
foot
or
two
above
the
present
level
of
the
water
,
a
clumsy
closed
stone
conduit
with
an
iron
handle
.
It
was
a
rude
primitive
tap
,
no
doubt
,
by
which
the
levels
could
be
raised
.
Without
further
thought
,
he
turned
it
,
and
smiled
to
find
himself
right
,
as
water
poured
out
,
filling
the
vaulted
chamber
with
sound
.
Then
,
without
further
pause
,
he
passed
on
down
the
biggest
of
the
passages
leading
from
the
chamber
;
since
that
seemed
the
most
likely
one
.
After
a
while
,
however
,
the
passage
narrowed
,
seemed
in
danger
of
ending
altogether
;
so
he
harked
back
.
There
was
no
longer
any
sound
in
the
chamber
when
he
returned
to
it
,
and
the
level
of
the
water
had
risen
almost
to
the
floor
of
the
passage
in
which
he
stood
,
wondering
which
of
the
other
outlets
he
had
best
try
.
The
choice
was
a
case
of
sheer
chance
,
of
course
,
he
told
himself
;
a
mere
backing
of
one
's
luck
.
But
,
as
he
paused
to
make
it
,
something
cold
struck
on
his
feet
,
causing
him
to
look
down
in
sudden
surprise
.
The
water
was
still
rising
.
That
must
be
stopped
,
anyhow
,
unless
he
was
to
be
drowned
out
like
a
sewer
rat
.
He
stuck
the
torch
into
a
cleft
in
the
rock
beside
him
,
hung
the
net
to
it
,
and
swam
over
to
the
conduit
,
which
was
already
submerged
.
But
the
handle
which
had
turned
so
easily
was
stiff
now
;
possibly
because
of
the
pressure
of
the
water
,
possibly
because
there
was
some
other
rude
mechanism
of
which
he
was
unaware
.
Anyhow
,
after
a
few
trials
he
realized
that
he
was
helpless
until
the
water
had
found
its
own
level
.
But
what
was
that
?
Who
could
tell
?
Would
it
rise
,
and
rise
,
and
rise
,
till
it
filled
the
whole
place
?
Who
could
tell
?
It
was
not
fear
which
clutched
at
his
heart--only
a
vague
self-pity
;
almost
an
amused
wonder
that
this
Immortality
for
others
might
bring
Death
to
him
.
He
looked
up
into
the
vaulted
arch
above
him
,
then
to
the
,
as
yet
,
dry
passages
which
he
could
just
see
,
as
darker
arches
of
shadow
.
Unless
one
of
them
rose
abruptly
to
a
higher
level--and
the
chance
that
one
did
,
or
that
he
should
find
it
,
was
remote--he
would
be
wiser
to
stay
here
,
and
see
what
happened
.
The
roof
was
at
least
higher
.
He
swam
back
to
the
torch
and
,
holding
on
to
the
crevices
of
the
wall
,
waited
.
Still
rising
.
He
shifted
the
torch
to
a
higher
crevice
and
waited
again
,
a
dull
curiosity
taking
possession
of
him
.
Still
rising
.
He
wondered
,
suddenly
,
whether
it
would
not
have
been
better
for
him
to
have
gone
back
the
way
he
had
come
.
The
passage
had
certainly
seemed
to
ascend
,
and
it
was
a
question
of
levels
.
That
was
all
.
A
mere
question
of
levels
.
He
shifted
the
torch
again
.
It
was
dying
down
now
,
the
rags
showing
charred
,
cindery
.
But
as
he
fed
it
with
oil
and
it
flared
up
and
smoked
,
the
thought
came
to
him
that
it
was
using
air
needlessly
,
making
suffocation
more
imminent
.
He
blew
it
out
deliberately
.
If
a
man
had
to
die
,
he
might
as
well
die
in
the
dark
.
He
was
glad
,
a
moment
later
,
of
the
darkness
.
It
shut
out
reality
and
left
him
to
dreams
;
to
vague
hopes
,
to
kindly
forgetfulness
,
to
Erda
's
face
.
How
plucky
she
had
been
!
Well
!
even
if
he
had
to
be
drowned
like
a
rat
in
a
sewer
,
he
must
not
be
behind
her
.
The
pathetic
comfort
of
kindly
memory
,
which
with
strange
unreason--since
it
enhances
the
value
of
the
life
that
is
being
left--makes
the
face
of
death
seem
less
stern
to
poor
humanity
,
came
to
him
and
absorbed
him
.
If
he
died
and
she
lived
,
she
would
not
forget
him
;
he
knew
that
.
And
still
the
water
rose
.
It
must
be
rising
now
,
he
thought
,
in
the
Pool
of
Immortality
,
and
the
eager
,
patient
faces
that
had
been
waiting
for
it
so
long
must
be
showing
glad
in
the
grey
light
of
the
dawn
.
For
the
dawn
was
coming
to
the
world
,
though
he
would
not
see
it
.
Strange
,
incomprehensible
thought
,
even
though
the
reality
of
it
was
so
certain
,
so
close
.
Incomprehensible
?
Say
rather
,
impossible
;
frankly
impossible
!
He
could
not
be
going
to
die
!
He
shifted
the
unlit
torch
to
a
still
higher
crevice--almost
a
ledge
in
the
rock--and
waited
incredulously
for
the
water
to
rise
.
And
as
he
waited
in
the
dark
,
someone
else
in
the
grey
dawn
,
to
whom
death
was
more
familiar
,
to
whom
,
in
a
way
,
it
was
the
one
great
certainty
of
Life
,
was
feeling
the
same
frank
incredulity
at
the
thought
of
the
immediate
future
.
For
Dr.
Dillon
,
when
he
found
himself
alone
on
the
roof
of
the
gaol
gate
with
an
unconscious
woman
and
a
child
,
knew
that
the
end
could
not
be
far
off
.
With
Vincent
dead
,
and
Eugene
cut
off
by
the
stern
necessity
for
keeping
that
door
shut
,
he
could
not
hope
for
more
than
a
brief
,
savage
resistance--and
then
?
Failure
,
inevitable
failure
,
unless
help
came
;
and
that
seemed
far
as
ever
.
As
yet
,
dazed
by
that
closing
of
the
door
,
that
desperate
,
triumphant
death
of
the
man
with
his
back
to
it--a
death
which
had
gained
them
nothing--the
prisoners
were
still
huddled
together
,
crushed
out
of
further
action
,
at
the
far
end
of
the
alley
.
So
the
courtyard
was
clear
,
free
from
assailants
.
But
that
could
only
be
for
a
minute
or
two
.
There
was
an
ominous
rending
and
hewing
at
the
gate
below
;
ere
long
those
outside
would
be
inside
,
and
with
a
leader
who
would
know
what
to
do
.
So
life
could
only
be
an
affair
of
moments
;
yet
it
seemed
incredible
,
more
than
incredible
,
that
all
his
strong
will
and
determination
would
not
avail
even
to
save
those
helpless
creatures
in
his
charge
.
He
stooped
hurriedly
and
lifted
the
still
unconscious
woman
in
his
arms
,
carried
her
into
the
turret
,
closed
the
door
on
her
and
the
child--frightened
now
for
the
first
time
at
her
mother
's
silence--and
returned
to
wait
and
watch
.
It
was
all
he
could
do
for
them
,
unless
fate
gave
him
a
chance
of
appealing
for
them
to
Roshan
Khân
.
But
even
then
there
could
be
no
bargaining
,
no
compromise
,
no
surrender
!
A
sharp
crash
,
a
sudden
rise
in
the
babel
of
voices
below
,
warned
him
that
the
gate
had
given
,
partially
at
least
.
The
next
instant
a
soldier
or
two
,
ignorant
of
that
dead
man
with
his
back
against
the
closed
gate
,
ran
lightly
down
the
alley
calling
on
the
prisoners
to
make
way
.
One
of
them
was
Roshan
Khân
;
but
George
Dillon
did
not
waste
a
cartridge
even
on
him
.
He
was
reserving
his
fire
for
that
storming
of
the
broken
stairs
which
must
come
when
the
assailants
found
themselves
still
foiled
.
In
truth
Roshan
Khân
had
this
same
storming
in
his
mind
as
all
he
cared
for
,
since
it
would
pit
him
against
his
rival
,
against
Vincent
Dering
,
who
he
knew
was
on
the
roof
.
And
so
,
with
that
odd
acquired
sense
of
honour
,
fair
play
,
God
knows
what
,
he
had
been
planning
,
as
his
men
battered
down
the
gate
,
how
best
to
compass
those
fair
odds
which
were
necessary
alike
to
his
sense
of
justice
and
injustice--for
the
injustice
of
his
own
position
cried
aloud
for
proof
that
he
was
worth
a
better
one
.
So
he
had
settled
to
complete
that
liberating
of
the
prisoners
which
,
with
the
help
of
the
keys
,
ought
already
to
be
in
hand
.
This
done
,
the
general
rabble
would
be
eager
for
freedom
,
eager
for
plunder
,
eager
to
get
to
the
town
and
raise
it
,
eager
for
all
things
for
which
he
cared
no
jot
.
Then
would
be
his
time
.
Then--he
did
not
even
try
to
formulate
how--he
could
find
himself
face
to
face
,
at
fair
odds
,
with
Vincent
Dering
.
Wild
memories
of
duels
he
had
read
about
in
western
books
,
duels
with
others
,
who
had
nothing
to
do
with
the
quarrel
,
looking
on
,
occurred
to
him
.
Yes
!
that
would
satisfy
him
.
To
have
it
out
,
till
death
!
He
set
his
teeth
as
he
forced
a
peremptory
way
through
the
crowd
at
the
end
of
the
alley
,
which
hid
the
closed
door
until
one
actually
stood
beside
it
.
Then
he
stood
transfixed
,
for
he
saw
Vincent
Dering
's
dead
body
still
backed
by
that
closed
door
,
still
guarding
it
,
unarmed
.
There
was
a
curious
look
of
content
in
the
dead
face
,
and
Roshan
,
grasping
its
meaning
by
intuition
,
turned
from
it
with
a
curse
,
knowing
himself
forestalled
,
cheated
.
"
'
Twas
not
our
fault
,
Khân-jee
,
"
protested
a
voice
,
quickly
;
"
the
swine
fought
till
the
other
one
had
locked
the
door
in
our
faces
,
and
so--
"
Roshan
struck
at
the
voice
fiercely
.
Not
forestalled
,
not
cheated
,
only
;
but
outdone
,
conquered
!
His
rival
had
died
a
hero
's
death
,
and
he--he
might
live
to
be
hanged
!
A
rage
of
despair
,
of
despite
,
seized
on
him
.
His
one
real
object
gone
,
the
whole
hideous
folly
of
the
rest
made
him
fling
up
his
hands
passionately
as
he
dashed
back
to
the
gate
,
neither
knowing
nor
caring
what
he
was
going
to
do
next
.
Storm
that
feeble
garrison
on
the
roof
?
those
broken
stairs
,
every
crevice
,
every
foothold
in
which
stood
out
clear
,
easy
,
in
the
light
of
the
search-ray
?
Was
that
a
man
's
task
?
Confused
,
dazed
,
he
ran
on
,
followed
instinctively
by
the
crowd
,
wondering
what
he
would
be
at
.
George
Dillon
,
seeing
the
rush
,
covered
the
first
foothold
of
the
broken
stairs
with
his
rifle
,
and
waited
for
a
man
to
show
on
it
.
But
none
came
.
Just
as
the
rush
reached
the
courtyard
,
Eugene
Smith
's
search-ray
,
having
exhausted
itself
,
went
out
,
leaving
,
not
darkness
,
but
the
grey
mystery
of
dawn
,
in
which
for
an
instant
all
sound
,
all
movement
,
seemed
arrested
.
There
was
one
utterly
peaceful
second
,
and
then
,
from
behind
the
splintered
gateway
,
from
the
shadows
of
the
tunnel
,
came
a
breathless
voice
:
--
"
Close
the
outer
gate
,
sergeant
;
if
you
can
,
you
have
them
in
a
trap
!
a
regular
trap
!
"
A
trap
!
The
word
reached
those
who
had
followed
Roshan
in
his
causeless
retreat
.
Had
he
foreseen
this
?
Was
he
escaping
from
the
trap
?
Their
eyes
flew
to
the
tunnel
,
but
the
light
which
,
till
then
,
had
lit
up
its
darkness
,
the
swinging
lamp
by
which
the
batterers
of
the
gate
had
worked
,
was
dashed
down
by
someone
's
hand--a
small
,
white
hand--and
there
was
nothing
to
be
seen
.
Only
that
voice
to
be
heard
repeating
,
"
They
're
in
a
trap
;
keep
them
there
!
"
Keep
them
!
Not
if
they
could
fight
their
way
into
the
open
!
The
cry
rose
in
a
second
:
--
"
A
trap
.
Yea
!
a
trap
!
Out
of
it
!
Outside
,
brothers
,
outside
,
where
we
can
fight
free
!
"
Roshan
,
who
would
have
paused
at
this
chance
of
fair
resistance
,
was
caught
in
the
rush
from
behind
,
and
found
himself
through
the
gap
in
the
gate
fighting
desperately
in
the
crowd
,
calling
on
his
men
to
rally
.
But
they
had
construed
his
half-frenzied
flight
from
that
look
on
Vincent
Dering
's
face
into
a
lead
,
and
they
were
mixed
up
inextricably
with
the
horde
of
undisciplined
conspirators
who
,
having
been
till
now
safe
under
cover
of
the
tunnelled
archway
,
yelled
for
the
open
,
not
so
much
in
which
to
fight
,
but
in
which
to
run
away
.
The
mere
handful
of
men
,
whose
number
was
fortunately
hidden
by
the
darkness
,
could
never
have
prevented
the
rush
,
but
a
quick
wit
amongst
them
seized
on
a
possibility
,
and
the
breathless
voice
called
,
"
Let
them
pass--let
them
pass
!
"
So
,
in
a
second
or
two
,
amid
confused
yells
,
and
mad
slashings
at
friends
and
foes
alike
,
the
positions
were
reversed
.
The
inside
was
out
,
the
outside
in
,
like
Brian
O'Lynn
's
breeches
;
and
Dr.
Dillon
's
first
hint
at
what
the
amazing
turn
of
affairs
below
him
meant
came
with
the
words
:
--
"
Barricade
that
gate
.
Sharp
as
you
know
how
.
They
wo
n't
give
us
long
.
"
"
Is
that
you
,
Carlyon
?
"
he
called
doubtfully
,
leaning
over
the
parapet
and
peering
into
that
grey
mystery
of
dawn
.
The
figure
he
saw
,
a
woman
in
a
white
dress
and
a
scarlet
mess
jacket
,
made
him
doubt
the
evidence
of
his
own
eyes
.
But
the
answer
in
a
woman
's
voice
,
with
a
quick
breath
in
it
,
sent
his
back
in
something
between
a
laugh
and
a
sob
.
"
Then
he
is
n't
here
!
Oh
!
what
can
have
become
of
him
?
"
There
was
no
doubt
that
this
was
a
woman
!
L'ADDIO
DEL
MARITO
Once
outside
,
where
they
could
discern
friend
from
foe
,
the
troopers
instantly
realized
their
mistake
,
and
rallied
round
Roshan
.
But
it
was
too
late
for
that
now
.
As
he
stood
,
centring
them
,
there
was
a
wild
contempt
,
a
vague
relief
,
in
his
face
.
He
knew
now
where
his
sympathies
lay
.
Not
with
these
men
,
treacherous
to
their
salt
,
but
with
those
who
could
hold--who
had
held--their
own
against
all
odds
.
Yes
!
even
with
that
dead
figure
,
still
with
its
back
to
the
door
that
must
not
be
opened
.
The
thought
stung
and
seared
like
hot
iron
.
No
!
Not
with
that
!
not
with
that
!
That
was--What
?
--
He
could
have
killed
himself
for
the
unwavering
testimony
which
every
scrap
of
him
gave
to
the
heroism
,
the
defiance
of
such
a
death
.
He
knew
he
would
give
everything
to
die
one
like
it
;
and
he
knew
he
could
not--not
now
.
He
knew
he
must
die
a
useless
death
,
to
save
himself
from
a
worse
one
.
"
There
is
no
real
harm
done
,
Khân-jee
,
"
broke
in
his
lance-
duffadar
in
hurried
excuse
,
seeing
the
expression
on
his
face
.
"
We
can
get
in
easily
again
.
Those
holding
the
horses
say
there
were
but
a
score
of
them
all
told--the
cursed
Sikhs--God
knows
how
they
got
out
of
the
Fort
!
I
thought
we
had
them
safe
.
And
there
was
a
woman
with
them--a
Miss-
baba
"
--he
laughed
savagely
.
"
Well
!
if
they
be
brave
as
men
,
these
infidel
women
,
let
them
die
like
men--the
hell-cats
!
"
Roshan
Khân
looked
at
the
man
,
whom
he
had
known
for
years
,
as
if
he
had
never
seen
him
before
.
And
the
thought
of
another
woman--with
his
own
blood
in
her
veins--who
had
been
brave
also
,
and
who
had
died--died
by
his
hand--returned
to
sweep
him
from
every
bearing
,
from
every
landmark
,
eastern
or
western
,
and
leave
him
rudderless
,
drifting
,
in
a
storm
of
sheer
despair
.
He
laughed
suddenly--an
insane
laugh--at
the
hideousness
,
the
hopelessness
of
it
all
.
Laughed
like
the
madman
he
was
for
the
time
,
at
the
horror
which
drove
him
mad
.
"
Kill
her
,
if
thou
wilt
,
fool
!
I
have
done
my
share
of
that
,
"
he
cried
brutally
,
striking
out
at
the
voice
as
he
had
struck
at
the
other
which
had
told
him
of
Vincent
's
victory
.
Striking
as
he
felt
inclined
to
strike
at
anything
and
everything
;
most
of
all
at
the
hateful
confusion
in
himself
,
and
in
his
world
.
So
,
without
another
word
,
he
broke
through
the
circle
of
troopers
,
dashed
to
where
his
horse
awaited
him
,
and
was
off
like
a
whirlwind
;
that
strange
possession
of
the
Oriental
races
,
which
,
in
a
way
,
claims
kindred
with
the
Berserk
rage
of
the
north
,
thrilling
to
his
finger-tips
;
yet
held
in
check
,
diverted
from
sheer
,
mad
,
uncalculating
desire
to
kill
,
by
that
acquired
sense
of
fair
play
.
"
He
goes
to
rouse
the
city
,
"
said
some
of
his
men
,
following
him
hurriedly
.
"
And
time
,
too
!
"
assented
some
of
the
conspirators
.
"
The
dawn
is
upon
us
,
and
if
the
pilgrims
drift
away
,
our
hope
is
gone
!
"
But
most
of
the
crowd
,
troopers
and
conspirators
alike
,
felt
vaguely
that
the
dawn
had
indeed
come
,
that
the
midsummer
night
's
dream
of
madness
was
over
;
that
those
who
were
wise
would
try
,
while
they
had
the
chance
,
to
escape
from
its
consequences
.
And
that
such
a
chance
existed
,
even
now
,
was
patent
.
The
very
madness
of
the
night
,
its
lack
of
reasonable
explanation
,
were
in
their
favour
.
And
its
darkness
,
the
outer
darkness
of
the
storm
,
which
had
sprung
up
in
a
minute
,
must
have
hidden
much
.
Who
,
for
instance
,
was
to
say--except
those
impenitent
ones
whose
evidence
,
if
given
at
all
,
must
be
doubted
as
the
evidence
of
condemned
men
seeking
to
drag
others
down
to
their
fate--whether
such
and
such
a
one
had
been
a
rebel
at
first
?
Provided
,
always
,
that
there
was
no
doubt
about
his
staunchness
at
the
last
;
that
is
,
now
that
the
dawn
had
come--the
dawn
which
showed
doubt
,
almost
a
surprise
,
in
so
many
faces
.
What
had
come
to
them
?
Why
were
they
there
?
"
Kuchch
saiya
pur
gya
!
"
(
some
shadow
fell
on
me
)
muttered
one
man
below
his
breath
,
as
he
sheathed
his
sword
.
And
another
,
with
an
oath
,
said
boldly
,
"
This
one
is
for
the
winning
side
,
"
then
gave
the
cry
,
"
To
the
rescue
,
brothers
,
to
the
rescue
!
Cut
down
the
mutineers
"
--so
,
promptly
,
began
operations
on
the
nearest
defenceless
prisoner
.
Thus
,
almost
before
those
who
had
galloped
in
hot
haste
after
Roshan
's
lead
were
out
of
sight
,
the
prisoners
,
even
the
resisting
warders
,
had
been
driven
into
the
portico
,
and
penned
like
a
flock
of
sheep
between
the
troopers
outside
and
the
pioneers
within
.
"
The
Lord
is
King
,
"
said
the
lance-
duffadar
,
piously
,
to
a
neighbour
,
--he
had
started
back
from
Roshan
's
blow
with
a
scowl
,
and
watched
his
retreat
resentfully
,
--
"
the
Handle-end
of
His
Sword
is
safest
!
Lo
!
Have
at
them
,
brothers
!
"
--he
added
aloud--
"
have
at
the
evil-born
ones
who
would
have
killed
the
mems
and
the
baba-logue
as
such
scum
did
in
the
Great
Breathing
,
making
the
faces
of
the
soldiery
black
for
all
time
!
Show
them
our
mettle
.
Forward
!
'
Gord--save--the--Ka-veen
!
'
"
"
Gord--save--the--Ka-veen
!
"
The
cry
grew
to
a
shout
,
and
Dr.
Dillon
,
who
,
with
a
great
incredulity
lessening
the
values
of
all
he
saw
and
heard
,
had
promptly
swung
himself
down
into
the
courtyard
,
looked
through
a
crevice
in
the
barricade--which
was
fast
taking
form
under
the
willing
hands
of
the
pioneers--to
see
what
the
noise
meant
.
"
It
is
all
over
,
"
he
said
slowly
,
his
face
pathetic
in
its
bewilderment
;
"
the
troopers
are
siding
with
us
!
"
He
stood
for
a
moment
as
if
unable
to
grasp
the
reality
,
and
his
keen
,
inquisitive
eyes
seemed
to
search
almost
reproachfully
for
some
cause
,
some
hint
of
reason
,
in
his
surroundings
.
In
the
splintered
door
,
in
every
cranny
and
foothold
of
the
broken
stair
,
and
so
,
past
the
parapet
,
they
continued
their
question
to
the
lightening
sky
,
against
which
,
faint
and
far
,
those
distant
peaks
where
lay
the
"
Cradle
of
the
Gods
"
had
begun
to
show
dimly
.
"
All
for
nothing
!
"
he
muttered
to
himself
,
almost
petulantly
.
"
Poor
Dering
!
"
So
,
swiftly
he
passed
down
the
alley
,
--swiftly
,
but
hopelessly
;
for
he
knew
what
those
iron
shackles
meant
on
a
man
's
bare
head
.
He
drew
the
body
to
one
side
with
tender
care
,
then
knocked
at
the
closed
door
and
called
to
the
man
within
.
"
Smith
,
open
the
door
!
You
'd
better
come
out--I
think
it
's
all
over
now
;
be
quick
,
please
.
"
There
was
a
pause
,
then
a
fumbling
at
the
bolts
and
bars
.
So
,
in
that
grey
,
cold
light
,
a
figure
stood
at
the
open
door
,
tall
,
gaunt
,
with
a
hunted
look
in
its
eyes
,
almost
a
terror
,
as
they
looked
down--down
to
the
threshold--down
for
what
they
knew
should
be
there
.
"
Dering
?
"
asked
Eugene
Smith
,
rather
hoarsely
;
then
,
seeing
what
lay
to
one
side
,
covered
his
eyes
from
the
sight
with
a
cry
like
a
woman
's
,
and
trembled
all
over
.
That
strain
of
patient
,
idle
inaction
had
been
awful
.
"
Oh
,
God
damn
them
!
"
burst
out
the
doctor
,
fiercely
.
"
And
all
for
nothing--for
nothing
.
At
least
I
think
so
.
Come
on
,
Smith
,
and
make
sure
.
"
For
nothing
!
For
nothing
!
The
words
were
echoing
in
Roshan
's
brain
also
,
as
with
loose
rein
,
recklessly
,
he
galloped
over
the
frail
bridge
of
boats
,
making
it
quiver
and
thunder
beneath
his
horse
's
hoofs
,
and
send
curved
waves
of
light
and
shadow
over
the
clear
,
steely
surface
of
the
water
,
seen
like
a
polished
shield
in
the
dawn
.
The
air
was
clear
also
;
the
distant
hills
steel
grey
as
the
water
,
the
sky
steel
grey
as
the
hills
.
And
there
was
the
bright
keenness
as
of
a
glittering
sword
in
the
chill
breeze
that
swept
from
west
to
east
.
But
Roshan
did
not
feel
it
;
he
was
absorbed
in
himself
,
in
the
useless
battle
of
his
life
.
For
nothing
!
For
nothing
!
He
did
not
even
hear
the
soft
yet
sonorous
roar
,
beginning
like
the
rush
of
a
big
breaker
on
a
beach
,
ending
with
a
wild
,
musical
note
,
like
the
wail
of
new-weaned
lambs
and
their
mothers
on
a
lone
hillside
,
which
suddenly
echoed
out
over
the
water
,
making
those
who
galloped
behind
look
at
each
other
and
whisper
joyfully
:
--
"
'
Tis
all
right
,
Khân-sahib
,
"
said
one
,
urging
his
horse
alongside
;
"
the
pilgrims
are
waiting
still--hear
you
not
their
cry
?
They
grow
impatient
!
"
Roshan
looked
at
him
with
lack-lustre
eyes
.
What
were
the
pilgrims
to
him
,
or
their
impatience
?
What
was
salvation
,
immortality
,
to
one
whose
only
desire
was
death--death
and
forgetfulness
?
He
dug
his
spurs
into
his
horse
,
savagely
glad
to
give
pain
,
and
rode
on
.
"
Hârâ
!
Hârî
!
Harî
!
Hârâ
!
"
The
roar
was
articulate
now
,
and
those
behind
looked
doubtfully
at
each
other
.
"
If
it
should
be
the
miracle
?
"
suggested
one
conspirator
;
but
another
shook
his
head
,
"
How
can
that
be
?
None
know
the
trick
save
those
two
,
Gu-gu
and
Am-ma
,
and
they
are
safe
.
"
"
Unless
it
be
a
miracle
,
"
put
in
a
third
,
almost
timidly
.
"
God
's
club
makes
no
noise
,
and
the
night
has
been
full
of
marvels
.
"
So
an
uneasy
silence
