The Rajah stood on the great
steps, surrounded by a body-guard of torch-bearers. He was dressed in
full native costume, a blaze of gems, and wearing the royal insignia.
The expression on his face was something I shall not easily forget,
and at the time it was inexplicable to me. I can not describe it. I
can only say that I was instantly reminded of Milton's fallen Satan as
he stands above his followers, superb, dauntless, but tortured by
hatred, contempt and God knows what strange minglings of remorse and
anger. He greeted the crowd with the sign of death. His first words
revealed to me that his allegiance to us was at an end, and that he
meant to follow in his father's bloody footsteps."
Stafford stretched out his hand, catching hold of the back of a chair
as if seeking support.
"Go on!" he said sharply.
"I have very little more to say. I did not wait, for I had heard
enough to know that Marut was in instant danger. I made my escape as
best I could, but in order to avoid notice I had to resort to
circuitous paths, and only reached here this morning."
Colonel Carmichael brought his hand down angrily upon the table.
"To think that the scoundrel should have been pretending friendship
all the time that he was preparing to murder us!" he exclaimed. "This
comes of trusting a native!"
"Excuse me, Colonel," Nicholson answered, with emphasis. "I have every
reason to believe that until yesterday Nehal Singh was our sincere
ally.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295