The Adventures of Kathlyn

In the rear of the temple Umballa sought was a small chamber that was

used by the priests, when they desired to rest or converse privately,

which was often. The burning temple lamps of brass emphasized the

darkness of the room rather than dispelled it. A shadow occasionally

flickered through the amber haze--an exploring bat. A dozen or more

priests stood in one of the dim corners, from which their own especial

idol winked at them with eyes like coals blown upon. The Krishna of

the Ruby Eyes, an idol known far and wide but seen by few.

In the temple itself there was a handful of tardy worshipers. The heat

of the candles, the smell of the eternal lotus flower and smoking

incense sticks made even the huge vault stifling. Many of the idols

were bejeweled or patched with beaten gold leaf, and many had been

coveted by wandering white men, who, when their endeavor became known,

disappeared mysteriously and were never more known in the haunts of men.

A man in tatters appeared suddenly in the great arched doorway. His

turban came down almost to his eyes and a neckcloth covered his mouth.

All that could be seen of him in the matter of countenance was a pair

of brilliant eyes and a predatory nose. He threw a quick piercing

glance about, assured himself that such devotees as he saw were

harmless, then strode boldly, if hurriedly, toward the rear chamber,

which he entered without ado. Instantly the indignant priests rushed

toward him to expel him and give him a tongue-lashing for his

impudence, when a hand was thrust out, and they beheld upon a finger a

great green stone. They stopped as suddenly as though they had met an

invisible electric current.

The curtain fell behind the man in tatters, and he remained motionless

for a space. A low murmuring among the priests ensued, and presently

one of their number--the youngest--passed out and stationed himself

before the curtain. Not even a privileged dancing girl might enter now.

The man in tatters stepped forward. He became the center of the group;

his gestures were quick, tense, authoritative. At length priest

turned to priest, and the wrinkled faces became more wrinkled still:

smiles.

"Highness," said the eldest, "we had thought of this, but you did not

make us your confidant."

"Till an hour gone it had not occurred to me. Shall Ramabai, then,

become your master, to set forth the propaganda of the infidel?"

"No!" The word was not spoken loudly, but sibilantly, with something

resembling a hiss. "No!"

"And shall a king who has no mind, no will, no strength, resume his

authority? Perhaps to bring more white people into Allaha, perhaps to

give Allaha eventually to the British Raj?"

Again the negative.