have no doubt thou art a very evil devil!"
Again the growl, followed by a thump and the shuffling sound of Dawa Tsering squatting himself on the porch.
"So—thus. We will see whether Ommonee knows what he is doing. Attack me, and die, thou mother of fangs and thunder! Then I will know it is not my karma to obey this Ommonee. Lie still, thou earthquake, and I will—" His voice dropped to a murmur and died away. Thoughts too obscure for expression seemed to have riveted his whole attention. Ommony, peering through the shutter slats, could see him sitting almost within arm's reach of the dog, staring straight in front of him at the stars on the north horizon. He turned to Mrs. Cornock-Campbell:
"And now I'll go away and let you sleep. When we come to your house, Mac and I invariably forget manners and stay into the wee small hours—"
But at a sign from her he sat down again. She closed the piano and locked it. "Cottswold," she said, "tell me what you have in mind. You have said too much or too little."
"I have told all I know—that is that I care to tell, even to you," Ommony answered. "I suppose, as a matter of fact, I'm a bit piqued. That Lama has had scores of opportunities to realize that I wouldn't betray confidences. I am told I'm notorious for refusing to tell the government what I know about individuals; and the Lama is perfectly aware of that. I've risked my job fifty times by insisting on holding my tongue. Am I right, Mac?"
"You are!" McGregor answered with a dry smile. "I remember, I once considered it my duty to advise threatening you with drastic penalties. I would have ordered you tortured, but for the cir-r-cumstance that that means of inducement is out of date. And besides, I had ma doots of its efficacy in your instance."
Ommony grinned. He preferred that praise to all the orders in the almanac. "So, damn the Lama!" he went on fervently. "He has kept aloof for twenty years. I'm satisfied there's something he's deliberately keeping from me. I've no notion what it is, but that piece of jade is probably connected with it. I'm going to track him—tempt him—force his hand."
"Are you sure you've no notion what he's keeping from you?" Mrs. Cornock-Campbell asked; and Ommony stared hard at her, while McGregor blew smoke at the ceiling.
"Perhaps I have a sort of notion—yes," he answered slowly. "Sometimes I suspect he knows what took Fred Terry and my sister to the Ahbor country."
"And?"
Mrs. Cornock-Campbell studied him with dark blue eyes that seemed to search for something lacking in his mental make-up.
"He may know what became of them."
Mrs. Cornock-Campbell smiled and sighed. "Well—we three will meet again before you go, I suppose?"
"No," said Ommony. "I expect to be gone before daybreak. I'll write when I get the chance. If we don't meet again this side of Yama's* Bar—"
"This is India—it might happen," she answered. "Your friendship has been one of five things that have made my life in India worth while."
"Oh, nonsense," he said gruffly. The least trace of sentiment frightened him.
"I'm glad I've helped," she went on. "It's a privilege to have friends like you and John McGregor, who don't imagine they're in love when you share their confidences! Good night. I don't believe you're going to your doom. I think I'd know it if you were."
"Doom? There isn't any! There's only a reshuffling of the cards," said Ommony. "Good night."
* Ragyabas are the lowest dregs of Tibetan society, who live on the outskirts of towns and dispose of the dead. When used, as in this case, as an adjective, the word has significance too horrible to be translated. The man was, of course, not a ragyaba.
* Referring of course, to the Tibetan custom of throwing out the dead to be devoured by dogs.
* Yama (pronounced yum) is the name of the god, in the Hindu pantheon, who judges the souls of the dead.
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