,waiting
.
Just
below
him
,
the
inner
wall
of
the
gate
against
which
the
stair
clung
,
and
which
was
prolonged
into
the
turret
where
Muriel
and
the
child
were
sheltering
,
joined
the
circular
outside
wall
of
the
gaol
.
The
man
,
thought
Dr.
Dillon
,
trusting
to
their
being
occupied
in
front
,
must
be
trying
to
steal
a
march
on
them
,
slip
down
the
stair
,
and
take
them
in
the
rear
.
There
was
plenty
of
time
to
prevent
that
,
however
.
Muriel
Smith
,
roused
by
the
sound
of
Vincent
's
name
from
the
sort
of
lethargy
into
which
she
had
fallen
,
--since
she
was
not
wanted
either
by
her
husband
or
the
doctor
,
--rose
to
her
knees
and
peered
over
the
parapet
cautiously
.
"
From
the
tree
in
the
garden
,
"
she
said
,
dreamily
.
"
Yes
!
I
remember
.
You
said
it
could
n't
be
done
,
and
I
said
no
one
would
ever
want
to
do
it
,
and
he
said
he
could--
"
she
paused
,
and
gave
a
little
cry--
"
It
is
Vincent
himself
!
"
she
gasped
;
"
do
n't
shoot
,
doctor
!
It
's
Vincent
!
I
know
it
!
I
feel
it
!
I
knew
he
would
come
,
if
he
could
!
Vincent
!
Vincent
!
"
"
What
's
up
?
"
asked
Eugene
,
still
firing
steadily
at
all
that
was
to
be
seen
.
"
Only
your
wife
says
the
man
is
Captain
Dering
;
and--and
,
by
Jove
!
I
believe
she
is
right
.
"
"
Of
course
I
'm
right
,
"
she
sobbed
,
half
hysterically--
"
I
knew
he
would
come--I
knew
he
would
n't
leave
me
to
die
alone
!
"
Eugene
Smith
laid
down
his
rifle
,
and
crawled
over
in
cover
deliberately
,
with
an
odd
look
on
his
face
.
"
Yes
!
that
's
Dering
;
plucky
fellow
.
He
's
swung
himself
up
.
I
always
knew
he
was
a
nailing
gymnast
.
"
There
was
no
grudge
in
his
voice
,
only
a
curious
challenge
as
he
looked
at
his
wife
,
then
laid
his
big
hand
on
her
shoulder
.
"
Keep
more
down
,
please--your
head
's
showing
.
He
'll
get
here
,
all
right
,
never
fear
;
we
'll
lower
a
rope
to
him
when
he
comes
alongside
.
"
"
But
I
would
rather
look--I
'd
rather
see
anything
happen--
"
she
moaned
;
"
it
seems
so
unkind
not
to
watch--not
to
be
there--with
him--
"
She
was
shivering
all
over
,
the
patient
self-control
,
the
steady
acquiescence
even
in
her
own
danger
which
had
been
hers
till
then
,
gone
utterly
.
George
Dillon
felt
a
great
pity
,
a
vast
impatience
.
"
So
you
were
right
,
Smith
,
"
he
broke
in
hastily
,
to
cover
her
sudden
break
down
.
"
They
are
n't
killed
;
now
we
shall
have
a
chance
of
knowing
what
's
at
the
bottom
of
all
this
foolery
!
"
But
when
,
five
minutes
later
,
Vincent
Dering
reached
the
roof
in
safety
,
the
doctor
felt
vaguely
that
the
explanations
only
added
to
the
general
incomprehensibility
;
and
that
something
was
being
kept
back
.
What
,
he
asked
impatiently
,
had
started
the
show
?
Of
course
there
were
plots
.
Pidar
Narâyan
knew
of
them
,
but
,
as
such
things
generally
did
,
they
had
seemed
abortive
.
What
,
then
,
had
upset
the
apple-cart
?
Vincent
gave
a
gesture
of
despair
.
"
What
does
it
matter
?
"
he
cried
.
"
We
can
think
of
that--if
we
can
think--when
it
's
over
!
And
if
we
can't--what
does
it
matter
?
"
"
You
can
bet
your
bottom
dollar
on
one
thing
,
"
said
Eugene
,
who
,
in
this
pause
for
a
council
of
war
,
was
methodically
loading
various
weapons
for
future
use
.
"
It
is
either
the
sex
,
or
sin
.
This
world
would
be
a
paradise
of
peace
if
people
did
n't
want
virtue
or
vice
,
--I
do
n't
say
which
is
which
,
mind
you
.
"
He
spoke
suddenly
,
harshly
;
and
once
more
George
Dillon
came
to
the
rescue
.
"
As
Dering
says
,
it
does
n't
matter
.
But
the
fact
that
the
pioneers
are
staunch
,
and
may
be
expected
before
long
,
alters
our
tactics
a
bit
,
Smith
.
We
must
husband
our
ammunition
,
and
stick
on
as
long
as
possible--do
n't
you
think
so
,
Dering
?
"
Vincent
,
kindly
always
,
had
stooped
to
take
little
Gladys
,
who
had
crept
over
to
him
,
in
his
arms
;
and
now
the
child
,
her
arms
round
his
neck
,
was
cuddling
close
to
him
.
"
I
'm
so
glad
oo
's
come
,
Derin
'
darlin
'
,
"
she
whispered
.
"
And
so
's
mum--are
n't
'
oo
,
dearest
?
"
Vincent
unclasped
the
soft
,
little
,
clinging
hands
almost
resentfully
,
and
pulled
himself
together
.
"
Yes
!
"
he
said
briefly
,
"
we
've
got
to
hold
out
.
So
it
will
be
better
to
reserve
ourselves
,
and
try
to
keep
the
gaol
itself
quiet
.
It
will
take
the
brutes
some
time
to
force
those
gates
unless
they
get
help
from
within
,
and
then
there
is
the
alley
,
and
the
doors
.
Still
,
we
shall
want
every
minute
;
for
,
unless
the
storm
lessens
,
Carlyon
will
scarcely
get
the
raft
here
before
dawn
.
It
was
awful
on
the
river
.
"
It
was
,
indeed
.
Even
Am-ma
had
lost
himself
utterly
,
while
Lance
,
after
paddling
,
and
drifting
,
and
shouting
after
a
dozen
false
hopes
,
was
still
as
far
from
finding
the
raft
as
ever
.
What
could
have
become
of
it
?
Had
it
started
sooner
than
he
had
expected
,
and
passed
down
before
he
had
found
Vincent
?
Or
had
it
never
started
at
all
?
Had
the
men
,
after
he
left
,
turned
round
on
her
?
This
fear
had
come
to
him
early
in
his
search
,
and
he
had
felt
inclined
then
and
there
to
paddle
back
to
the
Fort
,
and
satisfy
himself
it
was
not
so
.
But
the
thought
of
her
face
,
if
he
allowed
care
for
her
to
cause
delay
,
had
kept
him
to
his
task
steadily
,
till
he
could
no
longer
doubt
that
something
had
gone
wrong
.
But
what
?
And
what
was
he
to
do
?
Then
,
in
a
flash
,
had
come
back
her
words
after
she
had
bidden
him
think
hard
.
"
You
must
go
down
to
the
spit
,
cut
across
it
by
the
mission
house
,
get
round
,
if
you
can
,
to
the
police
camp
.
"
That
had
been
her
verdict
,
involving
her
being
left
to
take
her
chance
.
And
now
either
the
raft
,
the
relief
for
the
gaol
,
had
started
,
or
it
had
not
.
If
the
former
,
he
might
,
of
course
,
by
a
stern
chase
overtake
it
;
but
Erda
was
there
and
Vincent
would
meet
her
;
they
could
do
without
him
.
But
if
it
had
not
started
,
what
then
?
Then
matters
were
exactly
as
they
had
been
,
when
she
had
bidden
him
leave
her
.
So
,
with
a
feeling
that
,
if
this
were
so
,
he
cared
little
what
happened
,
he
steered
,
so
far
as
he
could
judge
,
for
the
sand-banks
of
the
spit
to
the
right
.
Am-ma
,
on
the
contrary
,
steered
instinctively
to
the
left
,
towards
the
high
bank
,
the
deepest
stream
.
It
would
at
least
float
his
logs
to
their
destination
,
and
that
was
something
.
Kings
had
come
and
gone
,
and
battles
had
been
won
and
lost
,
but
the
logs
had
always
had
to
go
down
the
river
,
whatever
happened
.
And
among
the
men
,
also
,
an
apathy
seemed
to
have
settled
,
as
they
drifted
on
and
on
in
the
dark
.
Erda
,
crouching
in
a
dry
spot
beside
the
ammunition
,
alert
to
the
uttermost
for
the
least
hint
of
Lance
,
realized
this
from
the
very
tone
of
their
voices
as
they
talked
under
their
breath
to
each
other
.
She
felt
instinctively
that
the
inaction
,
the
darkness
,
the
lack
of
a
leader
,
were
lessening
the
value
of
those
twenty
men
each
minute
.
If
Lance
would
only
turn
up
!
What
could
have
become
of
him
?
The
time
seemed
interminable
;
she
felt
sure
that
they
must
already
have
drifted
past
the
gaol
;
she
began
to
wonder
if
Am-ma
was
not
playing
false
.
For
the
darkness
,
the
uncertainty
,
had
its
grip
on
her
also
.
It
was
like
some
horrid
nightmare
,
to
drift
on
and
on
,
hearing
the
muffled
drumming
of
the
storm
,
feeling
the
strange
vibration
in
the
air
,
the
sharp
sand
tingling
on
your
face
,
and
to
know
nothing--nothing
at
all
,
save
that
you
were
there
.
"
Am-ma
!
"
she
cried
sharply
,
at
last
,
certain
of
but
one
thing
,
that
she
must
act
,
--
"
I
believe
we
have
passed
the
gaol
;
steer
to
the
right
,
do
you
hear
?
"
A
laugh
,
not
exactly
insolent
,
but
tolerant
,
came
from
the
group
of
men
.
"
Tis
easy
to
give
orders
,
Missy-
baba
,
"
said
a
voice
;
"
but
not
so
easy
to
obey
them
,
when
the
Lord
is
against
your
side
,
and
sends
darkness
!
"
Erda
's
heart
gave
a
great
throb
,
not
of
fear
,
but
comprehension
.
That
was
the
beginning
;
a
minute
or
two
more
and
these
men
would
be
out
of
hand
.
"
Am-ma
!
"
she
called
again
,
"
do
what
I
tell
you
.
Remember
the
child
!
Remember
we
have
the
Dee-puk-râg
.
"
Another
laugh
came
from
the
men
.
"
If
you
have
the
Dee-puk-râg
,
send
it
now
.
We
need
light
,
for
sure
,
and--
"
The
voice
ended
in
a
gasp--
For
it
was
there
!
A
long
ray
of
light
,
showing
them
that
they
were
,
indeed
,
just
opposite
the
gaol
.
"
Am-ma
!
"
came
Erda
's
voice
again
,
and
there
was
a
hush
and
yet
a
triumph
in
it
,
"
to
the
right--steer
to
the
right
.
"
The
raft
edged
slowly
towards
the
ray
,
but
the
soldiers
still
crouched
inactive
;
awed
,
yet
not
certain
.
Then
suddenly
that
quick
crack
of
George
Dillon
's
first
shot
echoed
over
the
river
,
then
the
yell
,
then
the
answering
shots
.
And
following
on
their
heels
rapidly
came
a
stir
among
those
crouching
figures
,
and
one
of
them
stood
up
excitedly--
"
It
has
begun
!
--see
you
,
Prag
!
Lehna
,
give
the
boatman
a
hand
!
Lo
!
do
as
the
Miss-
baba
bade
thee
,
quickly
,
son
of
a
pig
!
Steer
for
the
light--they
have
begun
!
"
Erda
gave
a
sigh
of
relief
.
That
danger
was
over
.
BEYOND
THE
SHADOW
The
fact
that
the
quarrel
had
begun
did
not
,
however
,
have
the
same
effect
upon
Roshan
Khân
.
In
the
first
tempest
of
rage
and
hate
which
the
sight
of
Laila
and
Vincent
in
the
balcony
had
roused
in
him
he
had
simply
let
himself
go
.
He
had
not
thought
at
all
.
Had
his
revolver
held
other
cartridges
,
he
would
have
gone
on
shooting
at
Vincent
,
Pidar
Narâyan
,
at
everybody
,
till
he
could
shoot
no
more
.
He
had
run
â-mak
;
that
curious
phase
of
the
Oriental
mind
when
once
it
oversteps
the
hard
and
fast
lines
of
custom
in
which
it
moves
and
breathes
and
has
its
being
.
The
very
fact
that
his
revolver
did
not
contain
more
possibilities
for
death
,
that
he
had
no
other
weapon
,
emphasized
his
wild
revolt
.
He
was
helpless--impotent--before
these
strangers
,
who
had
stolen
everything
!
Everything
,
save
bare
existence
.
This
thought
,
as
he
burst
into
the
open
,
into
the
lurid
darkness
of
the
new-come
storm
,
had
made
him
laugh
bitterly
;
for
it
was
only
that
bare
existence
which
he
wished
to
steal
!
They
might
keep
the
rest
;
but
that
he
would
claim
from
them
somehow
,
in
fair
exchange
.
The
time
was
ripe
for
such
exchange
too
,
--for
fair
exchange
.
(
The
epithet
"
fair
"
haunted
him
,
trying
to
still
the
keen
remorse
for
that
shot
in
the
dark
;
for
one
part
of
him
knew
it
to
have
been
cowardly
.
)
Yes
!
this
useless
plot
,
with
foolish
mischief
hidden
in
its
heart
,
to
which
he
had
just
been
listening
with
loyal
intent
to
frustrate
it
,
could
be
made
to
serve
his
purpose
without
delay
.
His
men
would
follow
him
anywhere
.
He
had
but
to
say
the
word--the
word
so
many
of
them
wanted
.
Then
,
those
thieves
of
all
that
made
life
worth
living
would
learn
a
lesson
.
They
would
fight
and
win
,
of
course
;
but
the
lesson
that
without
such
men
as
he--men
whom
they
thwarted
and
repressed
at
every
turn--they
could
not
rely
upon
their
regiments
,
would
have
to
be
learnt
.
And
in
the
learning
,
one
thief
would
learn
something
else
.
So
,
without
more
thought
than
this
desperate
clashing
of
jealousy
and
despair
,
he
had
dashed
through
the
crowd
of
pilgrims
who
were
waiting
for
the
dawn
,
gone
back
to
the
Fort
,
and
given
the
word
.
In
the
excitement
which
followed
,
spreading
swiftly
from
his
own
,
he
had
not--and
it
was
typical
of
the
man
that
he
did
not--forget
Lance
Carlyon
's
friendliness
;
a
more
equal
friendliness
than
that
of
most
.
There
was
no
need
to
drag
him
into
the
quarrel
,
the
more
so
because
the
disloyalty
of
the
Sikh
pioneers
was
doubtful
.
They
might
complicate
matters
at
the
beginning
.
So
he
had
locked
and
barred
them
into
the
inner
courtyard
,
out
of
the
way
.
But
Captain
Dering
,
he
knew
,
was
outside
!
Let
him
be
alone
with
his
troopers
,
as
he
,
Roshan
would
be
alone
with
them
!
Let
them
both
try
their
influence
;
let
them
try
conclusions
on
these
terms
.
That
was
but
fair
.
This
first
step
,
however
,
necessitated
others
.
The
original
plot
,
with
its
waiting
for
the
dawn
,
its
cumbrous
mechanism
of
keys
,
and
pilgrims
,
and
God
knows
what
,
was
not
to
his
liking
.
He
meant
to
fight
.
And
if
,
as
the
conspirators
had
asserted
,
some
of
the
warders
were
friends
hand
and
foot
,
his
men
could
crack
the
nut
of
the
gaol
in
half
an
hour
.
The
sooner
the
better
.
Pidar
Narâyan
,
he
knew
,
had
recognized
him
,
and
he
was
a
fox
for
wiliness
.
Then
,
Captain
Dering
must
be
after
him
even
now
.
And
Dillon-
sahib
might
be
on
the
alert
any
time
.
So
the
coup
de
main
must
come
at
once
.
As
to
what
might
follow
,
that
might
be
after
the
fashion
of
Meerut
in
'
57
,
or
not
.
Who
could
tell
the
end
of
anything
?
The
beginning
would
be
an
opportunity
for
fair
fight
between
him
and
a
thief
.
Once
more
the
epithet
"
fair
"
scorched
and
shrivelled
him
with
vague
remorse
,
not
for
Laila--she
was
but
a
woman
,
a
woman
who
had
played
him
false
and
who
deserved
the
worst--but
for
that
shot
in
the
dark
.
For
there
were
two
Roshans
,
warring
fiercely
in
heart
and
brain
.
Then
,
after
his
mad
,
reckless
ride
to
the
gaol
,
the
first
realities
had
come
to
him
in
the
sight
of
Dr.
Dillon
,
standing
with
the
light
in
his
hand
to
welcome
friends
;
and
in
the
sound
of
those
two
snap-shots
proclaiming
foes
.
Why
?
The
question
had
come
swiftly
.
What
quarrel
had
he
with
Dr.
Dillon
?
Or
with
Eugene
Smith
,
whose
tall
,
gaunt
figure
showed
behind
the
other
?
Eugene
Smith
,
who
must
have
brought
his
wife
,
his
child
,
with
him
!
The
horror
,
the
terror
of
what
might
come
,
swept
through
the
quondam
prize
pupil
of
a
mission
school
;
the
horror
,
the
terror
,
in
the
remembrance
of
the
Great
Mutiny
,
which
is
,
alas
!
a
legacy
of
wrong
to
young
India
.
Which
ties
her
hand
and
foot
;
which
makes
those
who
are
worthy
of
the
name
shrink
instinctively
from
anything
which
may
rouse
the
underlying
savagery--the
unavoidable
savagery--of
their
countrymen
.
Could
he
hold
his
troopers
?
Could
he
be
sure
?
He
had
come
to
curse
.
Was
it
too
late
to
bless
?
Then
the
memory
of
Laila--the
whole
hateful
tale
which
was
irrevocable--struck
him
hopeless
.
He
was
damned
utterly
;
he
could
not
escape
.
He
sat
rigid
as
a
statue
on
his
horse
for
a
second
;
then
with
a
wild
fury
gave
the
orders
for
his
troopers
to
dismount
and
force
the
gates
.
"
Your
slaves
,
Nawab-sahib
!
"
had
come
the
answer
,
making
him
smile
proudly
.
That
,
at
any
rate
,
could
not
be
stolen
from
him
now
.
Now
he
could
fight
and
die
in
what
should
have
been
his
real
position
.
Yet
,
once
more
,
when
the
search-light
had
come
to
throw
that
group
of
excited
men
hacking
and
hewing
at
doors
closed
by
authority
into
significant
black-and-white
relief
,
that
doubt
had
returned
;
that
desire
to
be
on
the
side
,
once
more
,
of
men
like
Dr.
Dillon
,
whose
bold
resolve
to
be
alone
responsible
for
his
gaol
,
which
the
warder
's
tale
revealed
,
filled
him
with
admiration
.
But
that
sudden
throwing
up
of
a
trooper
's
hands
,
that
sidelong
stumble
into
death
,
had
left
Roshan
cruel
as
death
itself
;
for
the
man
thus
killed
had
been
to
him
as
a
brother
.
So
he
had
gone
on
with
a
fresh
impulse
towards
revenge
,
and
for
a
time
found
forgetfulness
in
the
excitement
,
the
action
.
For
though
the
first
gate
,
that
one
giving
on
the
open
sort
of
porch
,
had
yielded
,
almost
at
once
,
to
the
troopers
outside
and
the
warders
within
,
the
second
,
barring
the
arched
tunnel
,
was
a
tougher
job
.
It
was
not
until
this
had
given
way
,
and
the
attacking
party
were
completely
sheltered
from
the
fire
of
the
little
garrison
on
the
roof
,
that
there
was
leisure
for
that
thought
to
return
:
"
What
am
I
doing
?
Why
am
I
doing
it
?
"
No
man
,
it
may
be
said
broadly
,
ever
fights
without
feeling
that
the
battle
is
an
appeal
to
a
tribunal
beyond
himself
,
and
Roshan
did
not
feel
this
.
Then
the
remembrance
of
the
woman
,
the
child
,
upstairs
came
persistently
,
burdened
by
the
weight
of
that
past
tragedy
which
,
in
India
,
it
is
impossible
to
forget
.
And
this
was
a
woman
who
had
always
been
courteous
to
him
,
a
child
to
whom
he
had
given
toys
.
What
was
he
doing
?
The
men
were
at
work
on
the
last
,
the
strongest
gate
,
with
every
tool
they
could
find
.
Not
many
,
for
Dr.
Dillon
's
forethought
had
left
them
before
barred
doors
everywhere
.
The
delay
had
already
been
great
;
would
be
greater
.
They
must
be
close
now
on
the
lines
of
the
original
plot
,
at
which
Roshan
had
laughed
,
for
the
dawn
was
showing
faintly--a
mere
promise
of
light
to
come--in
the
east
.
And
the
storm
was
passing
.
The
dull
reverberations
of
faint
thunder
were
lost
now
in
the
cries
,
the
blows
of
those
at
work
trying
to
batter
down
the
iron
bars
.
A
sudden
distaste--more
than
regret
or
repentance--came
to
Roshan
as
he
stood
silent
,
watching
blow
after
blow
;
a
sudden
doubt
.
Which
was
the
right
?
No
man
worth
calling
a
man
ever
fights
for
anything
else
;
every
man
worth
calling
one
fights
for
that
.
But
which
was
right
?
Those
men
,
hacking
and
hewing
,
or
the
little
garrison
upstairs
?
There
were
no
such
searchings
of
heart
there
,
at
any
rate
;
no
question
as
to
what
they
were
doing
,
though
at
that
exact
moment
they
were
engaged
in
the
trivial
occupation
of
drinking
tea
.
Muriel
Smith
had
made
it
,
at
Dr.
Dillon
's
suggestion
,
against
this
very
pause
;
this
"
cease
firing
"
which
he
had
foreseen
.
And
in
the
making
of
it
she
had
used
a
continental
tea-basket
which
more
than
once
had
been
her
companion
on
the
Brindisi
route
.
Dr.
Dillon
had
laid
hands
on
it
in
his
foraging
,
and
as
she
had
boiled
the
kettle
,
the
rush
and
roar
of
a
train
racing
through
the
peaceful
French
champaignes
had
seemed
to
be
in
her
ears
,
instead
of
that
rush
and
roar
of
blows
and
shouting
which
was
now
rising
from
every
part
of
the
gaol
;
though
the
prisoners
were
still
helpless
for
evil
in
their
sections
.
So
the
three
men
,
haggard
,
anxious
,
drank
their
tea
in
silence
,
hastily
;
yet
with
a
curious
insistence
,
as
if
the
triviality
gave
them
a
hold
on
things
familiar
,
things
beyond
this
midsummer-night
's
dream
of
madness
.
But
the
child
chattered
as
she
munched
a
biscuit
;
chattered
of
the
charms
of
this
strange
picnic
on
the
"
woof
,
in
the
dark
with
oo
's
nighty
an
'
s'ippers
only
.
"
The
unconscious
little
voice
struck
a
chill
to
the
men
's
hearts
,
but
the
woman
smiled
,
as
mothers
can
do
when
they
wish
to
guard
that
blessed
unconsciousness
to
the
last
;
the
unconsciousness
of
which
they
are
guardians
by
right
.
"
We
are
doing
as
well
as
could
be
expected
,
"
remarked
Dr.
Dillon
,
suddenly
,
with
a
quaint
professional
reminiscence
;
then
added
,
"
I
wish
to
God
,
though
,
I
knew
what
my
prisoners
were
up
to--those
solitary
cellers
are
on
my
mind--I
believe
the
convalescents
could
dig
them
out
with
the
cook-room
platters
and
ladles
.
I
ought
to
have
thought
of
that
.
But
,
as
I
say
,
we
are
doing
very
fairly
well--your
light
,
Dering
,
was
a
godsend
.
"
Eugene
Smith
looked
up
sharply
,
almost
as
if
he
meant
a
disclaimer
;
then
he
gave
a
brief
assent
.
"
Yes
!
but
that
will
be
more
of
a
godsend
still--it
is
the
dawn
!
"
He
pointed
to
that
faint
promise
of
light
in
the
east
,
and
Vincent
Dering
's
eyes
followed
his
hand
with
the
doubtful
look
of
one
sick
to
death
,
as
he
watches
the
long
weary
night
merge
once
more
into
another
long
weary
day
of
certain
pain
.
There
was
an
utter
hopelessness
in
it
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
echoed
slowly
,
"
that
is
the
dawn
.
"
"
Carlyon
said
the
attack
was
planned
for
dawn
,
did
n't
he
?
"
asked
the
doctor
,
deliberately
helping
himself
to
another
lump
of
sugar
,
deliberately
trying
to
keep
the
pulse
beats
of
those
around
him
as
near
normal
as
might
be--and
there
had
been
something
beyond
it
in
Vincent
's
voice
.
"
They
must
have
meant
to
use
the
keys
that
brute
Kishen
Rao
made
off
with
.
I
wonder
what
it
was
that
started
the
show
prematurely
?
"
"
Do
you
think
it
was
premature
?
Why
?
"
put
in
Eugene
Smith
.
"
We
should
have
had
some
of
the
townspeople
,
some
of
the
pilgrims
otherwise
.
"
"
Perhaps
the
storm
"
--began
Vincent
.
The
doctor
shook
his
head
.
"
If
they
had
meant
to
come
they
would
have
come
.
Of
course
now
,
with
the
wind
blowing
straight
off
us
,
they
ca
n't
possibly
hear
.
"
He
paused
and
listened
,
for
a
sudden
silence
had
fallen
on
the
turmoil
beneath
,
and
out
of
it
came
an
all
too
familiar
sound
,
the
clank
of
leg
irons
.
Some
of
the
prisoners
,
therefore
,
had
managed
to
break
out
of
their
dormitories
;
or
were
these
the
solitary
cellers
?
"
I
wish
Carlyon
would
turn
up
,
"
he
muttered
,
almost
petulantly
,
"
it
's
our
only
chance--
"
But
there
was
to
be
another
;
for
,
from
below
,
a
voice
rose
loud
and
clear
.
"
Dr.
Dillon
!
I
have
no
desire
to
hurt
you
or
yours
,
but
I
warn
you
that
,
if
you
persist
,
I
am
not
responsible
.
Open
the
gates
,
and
you
shall
have
a
safe
conduct--for--for
everybody
.
"
George
Dillon
was
on
his
feet
at
once
,
but
Captain
Dering
stopped
him
;
his
eyes
ablaze
.
"
What
shall
I
tell
him
,
Dillon
?
"
he
said
sharply
.
"
I
'll
take
my
orders
from
you--you
're
in
charge
;
but
that
man
is
under
mine
.
What
shall
I
say
?
"
Dr.
Dillon
gave
one
glance
at
the
woman
and
the
child
.
"
Tell
him
to
be
universally
damned
,
"
he
answered
;
and
Eugene
Smith
,
husband
and
father
,
nodded
acquiescence
.
Roshan
Khân
was
standing
in
full
view
as
Vincent
Dering
stepped
up
to
the
parapet
.
His
face
was
raised
;
there
was
almost
an
appeal
in
it
.
But
every
atom
of
that
,
every
atom
almost
of
humanity
,
vanished
as
he
recognized
his
captain
.
His
hand
went
instinctively
to
his
revolver
.
Then
a
thought
seemed
to
come
to
him
.
He
drew
himself
up
proudly
,
and
waited
for
the
answer
.
It
came
,
keen
as
a
knife
.
"
Risaldar
!
draw
off
your
men
and
return
to
barracks
,
or
I
'll
shoot
you
as
a
mutineer
.
"
There
was
half
a
second
's
silence
;
then
a
wild
laugh
:
"
Close
up
,
men
,
rush
that
gate--forward
!
"
The
words
and
the
crack
of
Vincent
's
revolver--the
bullet
of
which
,
aimed
too
high
,
passed
through
Roshan
's
turban-were
almost
lost
in
the
answering
yell
.
But
the
risaldar
stood
his
ground
for
a
second
,
then
coolly
sought
shelter
.
That
was
over
!
They
were
quits
now
for
the
fair
fight
.
And
fate
had
been
kind
.
He
had
unwittingly
offered
this
man--his
greatest
enemy--a
safe
conduct
;
and
it
had
been
refused
,
luckily
.
Well
!
let
Vincent
Dering
take
the
whole
consequences
.
The
blood
of
one
woman
was
already
on
his
head
;
so
would
be
the
blood
spilt
here
.
He
,
Roshan
,
would
need
have
no
further
scruples
.
So
,
as
if
it
had
gained
strength
from
the
brief
respite
,
the
turmoil
recommenced
;
and
now
Roshan
Khân
's
voice
could
be
heard
urging
the
men
on
.
And
there
were
answering
shouts
from
different
parts
of
the
gaol
.
George
Dillon
frowned
.
"
They
mean
business
now
.
And
I
fancy
I
hear
pounding
at
the
left
section
door
.
If
so
we
shall
have
the
solitary
cell
men--my
worst
lot
,
of
course--out
in
the
courtyard
before
long
.
Dering--can
you
hear
anything
?
--there
's
such
a
confounded
noise--
"
Vincent
,
who
was
standing
at
the
top
of
the
stairs
which
led
to
the
ten-feet
drop
,
ran
down
a
few
steps
and
listened
.
Then
he
looked
up
quickly
and
nodded
.
"
They
are
there
.
The
door
's
shaking
.
How
many
of
them
are
there
?
"
"
Two
dozen
or
thereabouts
;
and
the
convalescents
,
of
course
.
That
's
nothing--if
they
have
n't
got
their
leg
irons
off
!
We
ought
to
settle
most
of
them
before
they
can
help
with
the
door
.
Still
,
I
wish
Carlyon
would
turn
up
.
"
A
sudden
hurry
and
urgency
had
come
to
the
struggle
,
and
Dr.
Dillon
passed
restlessly
to
the
other
side
of
the
roof
.
The
sky
was
lightening
faintly
.
More
because
the
dust
had
sought
dust
again
,
the
earth
earth
,
than
from
any
increase
of
light
;
and
so
the
broad
ray
of
the
search-light
,
widening
as
it
went
,
lost
itself
in
the
distant
darkness
,
and
there
was
nothing
to
be
seen
riverwards
.
But
close
at
hand
two
men--one
in
a
warder
's
uniform--were
running
towards
the
gaol
,
shouting
.
The
doctor
was
back
to
the
inner
parapet
in
a
second
.
"
Look
out
!
they
've
got
the
keys
now--not
of
this
door
,
but
some
of
the
sections--and
the
alley
.
The
game
's
up
unless
Carlyon--Mrs
.
Smith
,
please--you
had
better
go
into
the
turret--we
shall
be
shooting
free--
"
Eugene
,
who
had
been
standing
beside
her
,
laid
his
hand
on
her
shoulder
.
"
Yes
,
dear
!
"
he
said
gently
;
"
go
inside--it
will
be
better
for
Gladys--and
for
me--
"
Muriel
turned
white
,
but
stood
quite
firm
,
quite
calm
.
"
Come
,
little
girlie
,
"
she
said
,
holding
out
her
hand
to
the
child
.
"
You
've
had
your
tea--it
's
bedtime--I
ca
n't
have
you
sitting
up
all--
"
she
broke
down
a
little
,
partly
because
she
was
passing
Vincent
,
and
he
,
busy
loading
various
rifles
and
revolvers
,
kept
his
eyes
studiously
from
her
.
But
Gladys
did
not
choose
to
pass
her
friend
in
this
fashion
.
She
paused
,
a
dainty
little
figure
in
a
blue
dressing-gown
,
like
her
mother
,
and
with
the
same
fluffy
golden
curls
about
her
coaxing
,
delicate
little
child
's
face
.
"
Dood-night
,
Derin
'
darlin
'
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
'm
so
glad
'
oo
's
here
,
an
'
so's--
"
Something
that
was
not
all
desire
to
check
that
formula
made
the
man
pause
,
too
,
to
lift
her
gently
,
and
kiss
her
.
"
Good-night
,
Gladys
.
You
must
n't
be
frightened
at
anything
,
you
know
.
You
've
got
to
be
a
brave
girl--have
n't
you
?
"
The
coaxing
face
was
close
to
the
haggard
,
haunted-looking
one
.
"
If
'
oo
's
goin
'
to
be
brave
,
Derin
'
darlin
'
,
I
'll
be
brave
too
.
Is
'
oo
,
dearest
?
"
The
haggardness
vanished
.
"
I
think
so
,
little
one
.
Good-night
.
"
He
put
the
child
down
hastily
,
at
a
crash
.
The
moment
for
courage
had
come
.
"
Shoot
as
straight
as
you
can
!
"
shouted
the
doctor
.
"
The
section
door
's
gone
.
Let
'
em
have
it
!
"
The
door
had
gone
,
indeed
;
and
in
a
second
the
courtyard
beneath
them
was
half
full
of
naked
,
desperate
men
;
the
worst
characters
in
the
gaol
.
"
Pick
off
the
ones
nearest
the
gate--do
n't
let
'
em
touch
the
bolts--it
's
good
for
another
ten
minutes
if
we
can
keep
them
from
it
,
"
came
the
doctor
's
voice
in
jerks
,
as
he
leant
over
the
parapet
just
above
the
centre
of
the
door
below
,
and
carried
out
his
own
orders
with
deadly
effect
;
though
his
heart
sank
when
he
saw
that
some
of
the
prisoners
were
unironed--or
rather
unironed
on
one
leg
,
and
that
they
were
armed
with
the
other
iron
;
a
deadly
enough
weapon
at
close
quarters
.
Besides
,
it
meant
more
treachery
.
It
meant
a
previous
filing
of
the
ankle-fetters
;
and
if
others
in
the
remaining
sections
were
as
free--
He
shot
quicker
,
steadier
,
while
Eugene
Smith
and
Vincent
,
one
above
the
other
on
the
top
of
the
stair
,
did
the
same
,
taking
the
intruders
on
the
flank
.
It
was
growing
lighter
every
instant
,
the
air
was
clearer
,
the
breeze
of
dawn
was
sweeping
the
smoke
of
the
rifles
riverwards
,
the
great
white
wheel
of
the
gaol
was
growing
broader
in
its
outlines
,
the
shadows
were
shrinking
.
But
the
storm
seemed
still
there
,
in
the
ceaseless
reverberations
.
"
They
're
up
to
something
in
the
far
corner
!
"
called
Eugene
.
"
What
is
it
,
Dillon
?
You
can
see
better
.
"
The
doctor
ceased
firing
for
a
second
,
and
ran
farther
down
the
parapet
.
"
The
keys
!
the
keys
!
"
he
shouted
back
.
"
They
are
trying
to
pass
in
the
keys
!
Shoot
the
devils--those
in
the
corner
!
Do
n't
let
'
em--or
the
gaol
is
gone
!
"
So
,
for
the
next
minute
,
it
was
deadly
work
down
in
that
corner
by
the
crevice
through
which
some
unseen
hand
was
thrusting
something
.
Three
times
a
man
,
clutching
at
the
prize
,
fell
in
a
heap
ere
he
touched
it
.
Then
a
fourth
pitched
forward
against
the
doors
with
the
keys
in
his
hand
,
and
a
fifth
,
groping
for
them
,
rolled
over
on
his
side
with
them
hidden
under
his
dead
body
.
And
from
outside
the
gate
came
rendings
,
and
crashings
,
and
yells
;
from
above
,
that
call
,
"
Shoot
straight
,
or
the
gaol
's
gone
!
"
Muriel
crept
out
from
shelter
,
possessed
once
more
by
that
frantic
desire
to
see
to
the
very
end
,
and
stood
looking
down
on
those
two
on
the
stairs
.
She
gave
a
faint
cry
when
Vincent
flung
his
rifle
away
,
and
ran
down
to
that
ten-foot
drop
for
revolver
practice
.
At
the
sound
,
her
husband
gave
one
quick
look
up
,
and
followed
suit
.
But
their
own
success
was
against
them
.
The
growing
pile
of
the
wounded
formed
a
barricade
,
behind
which
a
man
,
squirming
with
covetous
hands
among
the
dead
and
dying
,
found
what
he
sought
.
"
He
's
got
them
!
Stop
him
!
stop
him
!
"
There
was
a
fusillade
,
the
man
dropped
;
but
the
keys
were
in
another
hand--another--another--passing
outwards
from
the
crush--outwards
towards
that
low
door
at
the
end
of
the
narrow
alley
.
Without
a
word
,
Vincent
,
revolver
in
hand
,
let
himself
drop
on
the
heads
below
.
"
Oh
,
do
n't
,
Vincent
,
do
n't
!
"
came
a
woman
's
voice
;
and
at
the
sound
,
another
man
gave
that
swift
look
up
once
more
,
and
followed
suit
.
"
Let
them
be
!
"
said
Dr.
Dillon
,
sharply
.
"
Let
them
do
what
they
can
;
it
is
about
the
only
chance
.
"
And
still
,
as
he
spoke
,
he
kept
singling
out
a
foe
and
firing
.
The
chance
,
even
with
his
help
,
was
a
poor
one
in
that
crowd
,
where
there
was
always
another
dark
hand
to
snatch
at
the
prize
,
and
pass
it
nearer
to
the
door--that
door
which
was
the
key
to
so
much
!
Yet
,
the
crush
through
which
they
fought
lessening
,
those
two
Englishmen
found
themselves
with
the
straight
alley
before
them
for
a
race
.
A
race
against
three
men
,
without
arms
,
but
without
irons
;
and
with
a
fair
start
.
While
close
behind
was
the
crush--the
crowd
!
It
was
nothing
but
a
race
,
now
,
since
the
revolvers
had
done
their
worst
,
had
fired
their
last
shot
;
a
race
with
the
hope--if
Vincent
could
come
up
with
those
three--of
using
a
Goorkha
kukri
,
which
he
had
thrust
into
the
yellow
silk
sash
he
wore
instead
of
a
waistcoat
beneath
his
red
jacket--thrust
it
therewith
an
ugly
frown
as
a
last
argument
for
his
foes
,
when
he
had
seen
it
lying
among
the
pile
of
miscellaneous
weapons
Dr.
Dillon
had
foraged
from
the
Smiths
'
house
.
It
had
a
dainty
ivory
handle--Vincent
had
given
it
to
Mrs.
Smith
himself
,
and
its
last
use
had
been
to
cut
the
pages
of
a
fashion
paper--
It
had
a
sterner
job
now
.
But
Vincent
was
behind
;
a
yard
or
two--no
more
.
He
had
fired
one
more
shot
before
beginning
the
race
,
and
Eugene
's
legs
were
longer
.
Yet
the
yard
meant
all
things
,
and
he
knew
it
;
so
as
he
ran
,
his
hand
sought
the
knife
.
"
Look
out
,
Smith
!
look
out
!
"
he
called
.
"
I
'll
chuck
you
my
kukri
;
get
on
and
job
them
;
I
'll
keep
the
others
back--a
bit
.
"
As
he
spoke
,
a
glittering
curve
sped
from
his
hand
to
the
other
man
's
feet
.
Then
he
pulled
up
and
faced
the
crowd
behind
with
his
clubbed
revolver
.
The
lane
was
very
narrow
.
Three
men
could
barely
breast
it
shoulder
to
shoulder
.
Surely
one
could
bar
it
by
swift
blows
and
slow
retreat
!
For
a
time
,
at
any
rate--time
for
the
opening
and
shutting
of
a
door
!
He
could
but
try
.
"
Oh
!
what
is
he
going
to
do
?
"
gasped
the
woman
who
was
watching
.
"
I
appose
he
's
going
to
be
brave
,
mum
,
"
said
the
child
,
who
clutched
at
her
hand
,
watching
,
too
,
with
great
,
wide
,
uncomprehending
eyes
.
But
the
man
beside
them
held
his
breath
.
So
retreating
,
step
by
step
,
Vincent
Dering
kept
the
crowd
back
,
lured
the
crowd
on
,
safe--so
far
!
For
these
,
the
first
,
the
swiftest
,
were
naturally
the
unironed
,
therefore
,
the
unarmed
.
But
there
were
others
,
forcing
their
way
to
the
front
,
who
would
be
harder
to
deal
with
.
Vincent
threw
his
head
back
and
wondered
how
Eugene
was
faring
;
for
he
dared
not
turn
his
face
from
his
task
even
for
a
second
.
Had
those
three
been
caught
up
?
Had
the
kukri
helped
?
It
had
.
And
one
of
those
three
had
fallen
before
a
flash
,
as
of
light
.
And
another
!
But
the
third
had
the
key
in
the
door
;
had
turned
it
,
when
Eugene
struck
him
from
behind
.
With
a
wild
yell
he
flung
his
full
weight
on
the
door
;
it
burst
open
,
and
the
two
fell
headlong
into
the
tower
beyond
.
But
only
for
a
second
.
Eugene
Smith
was
up
again
,
had
the
key
out
,
and
in
on
the
further
side
.
"
All
right
!
"
he
shouted
;
"
make
a
rush
for
it
!
I
'm
ready
!
"
Vincent
Dering
gave
one
sharp
look
round
.
The
door
was
not
four
yards
from
him
,
but
the
crowd
was
not
one
.
There
was
no
time
.
"
Shut
it
,
"
he
called
,
"
I
'm
all
right
.
"
Eugene
Smith
stood
uncertain
;
the
door
ajar
.
The
keys
!
ah
!
what
could
he
do
with
the
keys
if
he
went
back
to
help--and
if
not--
"
Oh
!
please
shut
it
,
Smith
!
there
's
a
good
fellow
;
please
.
"
The
four
yards
were
two
now
,
were
one
.
Then
slowly
the
door
closed
,
and
Vincent
had
his
back
against
it
.
"
Oh
,
Vincent
!
Vincent
!
"
The
agonized
cry
echoed
above
all
other
cries
,
but
only
for
an
instant
;
the
next
,
George
Dillon
's
hand
was
gagging
the
lips
which
uttered
it
.
"
Hush
!
"
he
said
fiercely
.
"
Ca
n't
you
let
him
forget
for
these
last
few
minutes
that
there
is
such
a
thing
as
a
woman
in
the
world
.
Hush
!
I
say
.
"
And
a
great
hush
came
.
The
sound
of
blows
,
of
iron
clashing
on
iron
,
and
falling
with
a
dull
thud
on
something
softer
,
seemed
to
fill
the
world
and
leave
room
for
nothing
else
.
Nothing
except
a
softer
sound
still
.
A
shuddering
moan
,
as
a
woman
slipped
to
her
knees
,
and
covered
her
face
with
her
hands
;
then
slipped
lower
still
to
the
ground
,
in
a
heap
.
But
the
child
looked
at
her
mother
,
surprised
.
"
Does
n't
'
oo
like
Derin
'
darlin
'
to
be
brave
,
dearest
?
"
she
asked
,
in
a
concerned
little
voice
.
DAWN
Had
an
hour
passed
,
or
twain
?
Ninian
Bruce
could
not
tell
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
he
had
been
kneeling
for
a
lifetime
,
there
on
the
altar
steps
beside
the
dying
girl
,
with
the
glittering
red-and-gold
drapery
trailing
to
the
white
marble
,
and
opening
to
a
white
breast
stained
red
,
--a
brighter
red
!
A
long
lifetime
;
long
as
his
own
;
that
long
life
in
which
he
had
seen
,
had
felt
,
so
much
.
For
as
he
waited
for
her
inevitable
death
,
his
mind
had
followed
that
long
life
of
his
own
,
year
after
year
,
day
after
day
,
hour
after
hour
.
And
everywhere
it
had
seen
a
woman
's
eyes
,
a
woman
's
soul
,
looking
back
from
a
soul
,
from
eyes
,
that
should
have
been
a
man
's
.
Yes
!
the
keynote
of
that
long
life
had
been
the
love
of
a
woman
.
Passionate
love
,
absorbing
mind
as
well
as
body
,
claiming
its
reward
in
kind
;
as
such
love
always
does
.
In
kind
!
There
lay
the
whole
difference
between
anathema
and
beata
.
They
were
both
karma
,
or
desire
!
One
of
the
girl
's
white
feet
slid
with
a
silvery
jingle
of
its
anklet
to
the
next
step
,
and
,
as
he
replaced
it
to
a
more
comfortable
position
,
a
chill
struck
to
his
heart
as
he
remembered
what
such
chiming
had
meant
in
the
past
history
of
the
world
.
The
measure
which
that
provoked
was--
anathema
.
That--disguised
,
palliated
,
refined
in
a
thousand
ways--was
one
kind
.
And
the
other
?
The
memory
of
his
own
past
surged
to
his
brain
as
he
bent
over
the
girl
's
whitening
face
and
scanned
it
narrowly
.
How
like
the
face
was
to
that
other
one
,
now
that
coming
death
had
sharpened
the
full
,
youthful
curves
.
He
had
noticed
the
likeness
often--it
had
been
clear
when
Laila
had
worn
the
old
Italian--Beatrice's--dress
.
But
not
so
clear
,
not
half
so
clear
,
as
when
in
this--this
almost
shameless
one--she
had
said--
"
I
only
want--him
.
"
It
might
have
been
Margherita
speaking
,
--Margherita
,
who
had
wanted
a
man
's
soul
.
And
she
had
had
one
.
That
was
the
other
kind
.
But
both
were
desire
;
the
desire
which
drove
humanity
from
Paradise
,
and
keeps
it
vainly
seeking
for
one
still
.
Saturated
as
he
was
with
the
mysticism
of
the
East
and
West
,
these
thoughts
came
to
him
,
dreamily
,
making
him
feel
curiously
aloof
from
himself
.
The
pity
of
it
filled
him
,
and
brought
a
pity
for
the
dying
girl
also
;
the
girl
who
had
failed
to
find
a
paradise
in
this
world
,
and
was
seeking
a
new
road
to
it
;
seeking
it
alone
.
The
only
thing
she
craved
in
all
God
's
earth
to
make
that
paradise--gone
!
Priest
as
he
was
,
the
humanity
in
him
rose
in
passionate
hope
that
she
should
not
wake
to
the
consciousness
of
this
.
What
good
would
it
do
?
Let
her
enter
the
shadows
in
peace
.
But
as
he
wished
the
wish
,
her
head
,
which
had
been
resting
on
his
arm
,
turned
to
the
touch
of
it
,
and
her
smooth
cheek
nestled
closer
to
what
it
found
.
"
Kiss
me
,
Vincent
,
"
she
said
,
and
her
voice
came
back
full
,
rich
,
round
,
to
make
the
claim
.
"
Kiss
me
before
you
go
,
dear
!
"
The
old
man
gave
a
slight
shiver
,
and
was
silent
.
"
Vincent
!
"
came
the
voice
again
;
"
you
are
there
,
are
n't
you
?
You
would
n't
leave
me--now--surely
?
"
There
was
another
silent
pause
,
and
then
,
silent
still
,
Father
Ninian
stooped
,
and
the
old
lips
and
the
young
ones
met
in
a
lover
's
kiss
.
And
as
they
met
,
he
knew
that
in
that
kiss
lay
the
great
renunciation
of
his
life
;
that
henceforward
there
would
be
no
woman
waiting
in
Paradise
for
him
;
that
the
spiritual
presence
had
gone
from
his
life
like
the
bodily
presence
.
That
Margherita
was
Juliet
,
and
Juliet
,
Margherita
!
"
That
's
nice
,
"
murmured
Laila
,
softly
;
"
that
's
nice
.
"
Her
head
settled
to
his
arm
again
,
and
the
silence
went
on
.
On
and
on
,
till
he
stooped
lower
to
listen
for
an
unheard
breath
;
then
lower
still
to
shift
that
head
from
his
arm
to
the
ground
.
For
the
need
of
a
human
touch
,
a
human
sympathy
,
had
gone
forever
.
He
made
the
sign
of
the
cross
over
the
dead
body
,
rose
to
his
feet
unsteadily
,
and
looked
about
him
,
dazed
,
uncertain
.
In
truth
,
he
felt
all
his
years
for
the
first
time
;
felt
that
his
last
hold
on
life
had
somehow
gone
from
him
in
that
kiss
;
that
something
more
than
one
woman
lay
dead
before
him
.
Then
the
sight
of
Akbar
Khân
,
still
rocking
himself
backwards
and
forwards
,
a
perfect
pendulum
of
protesting
innocence
and
helpless
remorse
,
roused
the
old
priest
to
the
present
.
He
took
up
the
rapier
he
had
laid
aside
in
crossing
the
chapel
,
and
passed
over
to
where
the
old
eunuch
was
bemoaning
the
high-handedness
of
fate
.
It
was
a
tyranny
,
indeed
!
Who
could
have
foreseen
such
an
ending
to
a
very
ordinary
intrigue
?
Who
could
even
have
dreamt
of
it
?
Had
not
men
and
women
loved
and
met
,
thus
,
since
the
beginning
of
time
?
So
,
to
the
sinner
's
outraged
experience
of
life
and
love
came
the
saint
with
his
,
and
with
the
face
and
sword
of
St.
Michael
and
All
Angels
.
"
Tell
me
the
truth
,
"
he
said
sternly
;
"
and
tell
it
quickly
,
for
there
is
no
time
to
lose
.
"
In
truth
there
was
not
much
to
tell
.
It
was
all
so
simple
,
viewed
as
a
whole
;
so
complex
in
detail
.
And
,
as
he
listened
,
the
anger
left
Pidar
Narâyan
's
face
wistful
,
wondering
.
More
so
than
ever
at
the
last
mumbling
excuse
.
"
It
all
comes
,
Ge-reeb-pun-wâz
,
from
the
Almighty
having
made
the
Missy-
baba
so
like
her
sainted
ancestress--Anâri
Begum--on
whom
be
peace
.
"
Anâri
Begum
!
On
whom
be
peace
!
Her
sainted
ancestress
,
on
whom
be
peace
!
He
stood
for
an
instant
looking
towards
the
Altar
,
towards
the
dead
girl
;
then
he
echoed
under
his
breath
,
"
On
whom
be
peace
!
"
That
was
the
end
.
Peace
on
those
women
who
had
loved
and
died
;
and
on
the
men
who
had
loved
them--lived
for
them--perhaps
died
for
them
.
But
for
the
rest
who
lived
and
loved
still
?
A
quick
life
seemed
to
come
back
to
him
at
the
thought
of
these
,
a
desire
to
save
them
from
death
.
"
Follow
me
,
"
he
said
briefly
to
the
old
retainer
;
"
it
must
be
close
on
dawn--I
must
see
what
I
can
do
.
"
So
,
still
in
his
robes
,
with
the
blubbering
old
pantaloon--apostle
of
another
cult--at
his
heels
,
he
passed
down
the
arched
passage
to
the
door
at
its
end
which
opened
on
to
the
courtyard
between
the
palace
and
the
Fort
.
And
as
he
went
,
his
brain
,
confused
as
to
the
past
,
clear
as
to
the
present
,
was
busy
making
plans
for
peace
.
So
far
as
helping
those
at
the
gaol
went
,
he
knew
himself
to
be
powerless
.
Physically
,
a
couple
of
old
men--mere
shadows
of
men--could
give
no
help
,
and
he
could
not
hope
for
influence
there
,
among
the
Hosts
of
the
Devil
.
But
here
in
the
city
,
among
those
Hosts
of
the
Lord--the
pilgrims
for
whom
he
had
always
had
a
secret
sympathy
,
who
knew
him
,
at
least
,
by
reputation--with
whom
,
at
least
,
he
stood
on
common
ground--he
might
have
some
.
He
could
but
try
;
try
to
persuade
some
,
at
least
,
of
the
great
mass
of
seekers
after
the
"
Cradle
of
the
Gods
"
to
go
on
their
way
in
peace
when
the
dawn
came
;
try
to
save
some
of
them
from
following
a
wrong
road
.
The
door
was
slightly
ajar
;
he
widened
the
chink
and
looked
out
with
a
sinking
heart
over
the
courtyard
with
its
raised
union-jack
of
paths
.
Much
larger
than
the
yard
about
the
Pool
of
Immortality
,
it
was
crammed
from
end
to
end
now
with
a
crowd
,
the
first
look
at
which
told
him
that
his
chance
of
a
hearing
was
small
indeed
,
for
the
dawn
was
closer
than
he
had
thought
for
amid
the
shadows
of
the
chapel
,
and
the
grey
glimmer
of
coming
light
showed
him
once
more
a
sea
of
upturned
eager
faces
.
But
the
patience
of
the
previous
dawn
was
gone
.
They
were
restless
now
,
restless
with
the
vague
,
uncertain
restlessness
which
is
so
dangerous
in
a
crowd
,
which
tells
that
the
fuel
for
the
flame
is
only
awaiting
a
match
,
any
match
,
to
fire
it
.
And
there
were
many
only
waiting
to
be
struck
.
The
next
instant
might
bring
one
.
Father
Ninian
felt
this
instinctively
,
felt
that
here
in
this
courtyard
lay
the
mine
which
the
returning
troopers
,
the
desperadoes
from
the
gaol
,
were
to
fire
first
.
All
Eshwara
might
rise
afterwards
,
but
the
great
danger
lay
here
,
must
be
grappled
with
here
.
But
how
?
Not
by
words
.
The
ear
of
a
crowd
is
always
difficult
to
gain
,
unless
the
eye
is
taken
first
,
and
a
man
had
both
already
.
For
aloft
,
on
the
barrel
of
the
big
old
gun
which
centred
the
square
,
jogi
Gorakh-nâth
was
expounding
their
wrongs
to
the
pilgrims
,
their
inevitable
damnation
if
the
wrath
of
the
Gods
was
not
instantly
appeased
.
His
wild
,
weird
figure
,
in
all
its
nakedness
,
its
austerity
,
could
be
seen
above
the
little
circle
of
lamps
which
his
immediate
supporters
held
upwards
at
arm's-length
.
And
above
his
head
,
like
a
canopy
,
drifted
the
wisps
of
tired
earth-atoms
which
were
being
driven
sideways
by
the
breeze
of
dawn
as
they
fell
in
their
search
for
rest
.
For
the
storm
was
over
,
their
brief
ambition
for
something
beyond
mere
earth
was
past
.
Wisps
,
which
,
as
they
swept
over
the
circling
lights
,
took
a
lurid
glow
,
then
faded
into
the
dim
shadows
again
.
And
something
else
caught
the
light
redly
.
The
chaplet
of
human
skulls
,
the
dread
Mother
's
necklace
,
which
the
jogi
swung
from
one
hand
to
the
other
as
he
called
for
blood--for
blood
to
appease
Her--the
Mother
of
all--the
Eternal
Womanhood
!
Since
without
the
shedding
of
blood
there
is
no
remission
of
sins
.
The
tenet
of
all
religions
echoed
into
the
ear
of
the
crowd
,
the
strange
demoniacal
figure
,
in
its
lurid
setting
,
held
its
eye
.
What
chance
was
there
for
a
single
voice
?
None
.
Yet
something
must
be
done
.
For
the
dawn
was
nigh
.
Every
instant
the
light
grew
.
Any
moment
might
bring
that
inrush
of
evil
from
the
gaol
which
would
breed
violence
among
these
still
peaceful
folk
;
the
ignorant
,
helpless
folk
who
were
being
held
captive
by
words
against
the
coming
of
that
inrush
.
Suddenly
,
for
a
second
,
the
attention
of
the
crowd
wavered
.
A
tall
man
in
the
white
dress
of
a
Europeanized
native
had
been
hoisted
to
the
shoulders
of
some
others
,
not
far
from
the
jogi
,
and
so
,
from
this
coign
of
vantage
,
prepared
to
harangue
the
people
.
"
'
Tis
Ramanund
,
"
said
someone
close
to
where
Father
Ninian
stood
in
the
shadow
of
the
door
.
"
He
is
Brahmin
,
and
a
scholar
above
scholars
.
Mayhap
he
will
tell
us
what
to
do
these
times
,
when
all
seems
wrong
.
There
is
no
harm
in
listening
.
"
Nor
good
either
.
For
the
first
words
of
that
appeal
of
culture
to
ignorance
were
drowned
in
a
fiendish
laugh
,
a
frenzied
rattling
of
the
dread
chaplet
,
a
loud
defiance
.
"
Hold
thy
peace
,
Baboo-jee
!
What
is
blood
to
thee
,
who
hath
no
God
to
whom
thou
canst
give
it
?
But
we
have
,
brethren
.
These
be
Her
drinking-cups
,
the
skulls
of
men
like
ourselves
.
Let
us
give
Her
pleasure
,
brothers
,
and
have
blessing
from
Her
hands
;
not
cursing
,
as
thou
hast
had
,
Ramanund
,
whose
head
should
still
be
shaven
,
whose
touch
unclean
from
the
loss
of
a
woman
.
"
The
allusion
to
the
death
of
Ramanund
's
wife
roused
an
instant
murmur
of
assent
from
those
who
were
of
the
city
,
and
they
passing
the
tale
on
to
others
,
the
murmur
swelled
to
a
roar
which
effectively
drowned
the
rest
of
Ramanund
's
advice
.
But
Father
Ninian
,
still
at
the
door
,
still
uncertain
,
could
hear
a
man
who
had
been
buckling
on
his
pilgrim
's
sandals
as
if
for
a
start
,
say
,
as
he
stood
up
and
thrust
them
back
to
his
waistcloth
:
--
"
Well
!
I
,
for
one
,
go
no
further
without
remission
,
or
the
blood
which
brings
it
.
As
jogi-jee
saith
,
no
man
should
risk
the
woman
's
cursing
.
No
man
can
hold
his
own
against
that
.
"
"
He
hath
a
young
wife
in
his
house
,
see
you
,
and
all
know
what
that
means
,
"
sniggered
a
neighbour
.
But
a
third
voice
broke
in
gravely
,
"
Young
or
old
,
what
matter
?
Women
sit
ever
on
the
knees
of
the
Gods
,
as
we
men
have
sat
on
theirs
,
seeing
they
are
the
mothers
of
us
all
.
So
,
mother
or
wife
,
we
cannot
escape
them
.
"
"
Baba-jee
speaks
truth
,
"
assented
another
bystander
,
"
and
jogi-jee
also
.
If
She
needs
blood
,
She
must
have
it
,
seeing
She
is
Woman
.
As
for
him
?
Let
him
be
silent
.
He
hath
no
God
.
No
blood
sacrifice
,
no
remission
of
sins
.
Let
him
speak
who
hath
them
.
"
There
was
a
faint
sound
as
of
the
closing
of
a
door
,
and
beyond
it
,
in
the
darkness
of
the
arched
passage
,
an
old
voice
said
,
with
a
curious
note
of
gladness
in
it
,
"
Follow
me
,
quick
,
Akbar
;
there
is
not
a
moment
to
be
lost
.
The
dawn
has
come
!
"
It
seemed
to
have
come
to
Pidar
Narâyan
's
face
as
he
knelt
hurriedly
once
more
beside
the
body
of
the
dead
girl
,
to
fold
her
dead
hands
decently
as
if
in
prayer
,
to
cover
the
dead
feet
with
the
crimson
draperies
,
the
dead
face
with
the
flimsy
,
glittering
veil--the
veil
which
hid
nothing
of
its
beauty--which
struck
the
keynote
of
the
whole
.
"
On
whom
be
peace
!
"
he
whispered
as
he
rose
,
stretching
out
his
thin
old
hand
in
benediction
;
and
as
he
said
the
words
,
the
vision
came
to
him
of
a
whole
world
which
had
loved
,
and
sinned
,
and
gone
on
its
mysterious
quest
for
something
beyond
love
.
A
world
to
which
he
had
said
farewell
with
a
kiss
.
He
passed
on
to
the
Altar
,
and
with
swift
,
steady
hands
opened
the
sanctuary
,
and
took
out
the
treasure
it
contained
;
a
star-shaped
,
star-rayed
pyx
,
set
with
jewels
,
relic
of
the
days
when
singing-birds
that
sang
of
themselves
,
and
such
like
things
,
with
many
another
,
had
come
to
Eshwara
from
Italy
.
"
Take
the
candles
from
the
altar
,
Akbar
,
"
he
said
,
"
and
walk
in
front--just
in
front
,
you
know--as
you
used
to
walk
.
"
The
old
courtier
mumbled
"
Ge-reeb-pun-wâz
,
"
with
a
caper
of
alacrity
.
In
his
confusion
,
his
resentful
remorse
,
it
was
a
relief
to
return
to
pomp--to
servility
.
So
,
with
that
Bodily
Presence
which
,
till
then
,
had
always
brought
the
thought
of
the
lost
paradise
of
a
woman
's
love
with
it
,
in
his
hands
,
Father
Ninian
and
his
strange
acolyte
,
priest
of
another
cult
,
passed
swiftly
out
of
the
chapel
,
leaving
the
Altar
dark
,
bereft
of
its
treasure
;
leaving
the
dead
