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Wylie, I. A. R. (Ida Alexa Ross), 1885-1959

"The Native Born or, the Rajah's People"

"
"Nevertheless, tell it to me," Nehal Singh said, looking about him as
though seeking a way out of the noise and confusion. "Whatever it is,
it will interest me so long as it has one object."
"I venture to think I know that object," was Travers' mental comment
as he led the way into the second division of the marquee.
The place had been laid out as a refreshment room, with small,
prettily decorated tables, and was for the moment empty, save for a
few busy native servants. An electric globe hung from the ceiling, and
immediately beneath its brilliant light Travers came to a standstill.
He put his hand in his pocket and drew out what seemed to be a
jewel-case, which he opened and handed to the Rajah.
"Before I say anything further, I want you to look at that and give me
your opinion, Rajah Sahib," he said. "I will then proceed."
Nehal Singh took the small white stone from the case and studied it
intently. He held it to the light, and it flashed back at him a
hundred brilliant colors. He smiled with the pleasure of a
connoisseur.
"It is a diamond," he said, "a beautiful diamond. Though smaller, it
must surely equal the one I wear in my turban."
"You confirm my opinion and the opinion of all experts," Travers
answered enthusiastically, "and I will confess to you that it is that
stone which has prolonged my stay indefinitely at Marut. About a year
ago a friend of mine, an engineer, who was engaged on some government
work at the river, had occasion to make excavations about a quarter of
a mile from the Bazaar.


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