He repeated to himself Beatrice Cary's assurance--"All men do
not carry their heart on their sleeve." He told himself that behind
the jarring flippancy there still could lurk a hidden depth and
greatness. Nevertheless the received impression was stronger than all
argument. The climber, apparently unhurt, had sustained a vital
injury.
Nehal Singh was about to turn away, desirous only to be alone, when a
sound fell on his ears which sent a sudden sharp thrill through his
troubled heart. It was a groan, a single, half-smothered groan,
breaking through compressed lips by the very force of an overpowering
misery. Nehal looked back. The blank stare was gone, the boy lay with
his face buried in his arms.
In that moment the dreamer in Nehal died, the man of instant,
impulsive action took his place. He hurried up the steps of the
verandah and laid his hand on the bowed shoulder.
"You are in trouble," he said. "What is the matter?"
As though he had been struck by a shock of electricity, Geoffries half
sprang to his feet, and then, as he saw the dark face so close to his
own, he sank back again, speechless and white to the lips. For a
moment the two men looked at each other in unbroken silence.
"I am sorry I have startled you," Nehal said at length, "but I could
not see you in such distress. I do not know what it is, but if you
will confide in me, I may be able to help you."
"Rajah Sahib," stammered the young fellow, in helpless confusion, "if
I had known you were there--"
"You would not have revealed your trouble to me?" Nehal finished, with
a faint smile.
Pages:
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151