I am not the least to blame
that you fell away from us in resentment and bitterness. I could have
shielded you from the inevitable pitfalls that beset your path,
but--God forgive me!--my prejudice blinded me and I held back. It was
I who carried you away from the palace on that night when you were
left, a helpless child, to the mercy of Behar Singh's enemies. Then I
had pity enough--but years after I held back the hand of friendship
which I might have offered you. Well, I am punished, twice punished,
for my prejudice and blindness. Is it too late for me to make my
reparation?"
He held out his hand and there was a silence of tense expectation. The
Rajah's head was bowed. He did not seem to see the Colonel's movement.
"You can not think I am pleading with you to save our lives,"
Carmichael went on with grave dignity. "We have fought for them. An
hour ago we were prepared to lay them down without complaint. We are
not the less prepared now. It is not for us I am speaking, but for
you. Your day as Rajah is over--your claim to rule in India void. I
offer you instead your father's name, your father's people, your
father's heritage. The other road--well, you have trodden it, you know
it. You must choose. Your mother chose--twenty-five years ago, in the
same hour of crisis, blinded by the same bitterness. She chose to tear
the bonds of love and duty; she ignored the true voice of her
instinct.
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