It had swept him out
of the world of languorous, enchanted dreams into a world of not less
enchanted reality.
"I fear I am presumptuous," she began again; "but are you not the Rajah?
If so, I am certain you must be very, very angry. For the Rajah--so I have
been told--does not love the English."
She smiled again, meeting his unwavering gaze with a frank good-humor
which for him was more wonderful even than her beauty. No woman--and for
that matter, no man--had ever dared to look him in the eyes with such a
laughing, fearless challenge.
"Yes, I am the Rajah," he answered. Then, after a pause, he added with
great simplicity, "You are very beautiful."
She laughed outright, and the laugh, which rang like the peal of a silver
bell through the vaulted chamber, filled him with a sudden sense of her
danger. She stood with her back turned indifferently on the golden image,
an Unbeliever whose shod feet were defiling the sacred precincts, an
object, then, for hatred and revenge--not for him, truly. In his eyes she
was still an emissary from Brahma, and thus in herself half sacred; but he
knew well enough that such would not be the opinion of the few fierce
priests who worshiped in the temple.
"You are not safe here," he said, with an energy which was new to him.
"Come!"
He led her hurriedly out of the sanctuary into the great entrance hall.
There he slackened speed and waited until she reached his side.
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