Without turning his head, Fo-Hi, who seemed to detect the presence of the silent Hindu by means of some fifth sense, pointed4 to a bundle of long rods stacked in a corner of the room.
His brown face expressionless as that of a bronze statue, Chunda Lal crossed and took the rods from their place.
"Tum samajhte ho?" (Do you understand?) said Fo-Hi. Chunda Lal inclined his head.
"Main tumhari bat manunga" (Your orders shall be obeyed), he replied.
"Ah, God! no!" whispered Miska—"what are you going to do?"
"Your Hindustani was ever poor, Miska," said Fo-Hi.
He turned to Chunda Lal.
"Until you hear the gong," he said in English.
Miska leapt to her feet, as Chunda Lal, never once glancing at her, went out bearing the rods, and closed the door behind him. Fo-Hi turned and confronted her.
"Ta'ala hina (come hither), Miska!" he said softly. "Shall I speak to you in the soft Arab tongue? Come to me, lovely Miska. Let me feel how that sorrowful heart will leap like a captive gazelle."
But Miska shrank back from him, pale to the lips.
"Very well." His metallic5 voice sank to a hiss6. "I employ no force. You shall yield to me your heart as a love offering. Of such motives7 as jealousy8 and revenge you know me incapable9. What I do, I do with a purpose. That compassion10 of yours shall be a lever to cast you into my arms. Your hatred11 you shall conquer."
"Oh, have you no mercy? Is there nothing human in your heart? Did I say I hate you!"
"Your eyes are eloquent12, Miska. I cherish two memories of those beautiful eyes. One is of their fear and loathing—of me; the other is of their sweet softness when they watched the departure of my guest. Listen! Do you hear nothing?"
In an attitude of alert and fearful attention Miska stood listening.
Fo-Hi watched her through the veil with those remorseless blazing eyes.
"I will open the door," he said smoothly13, "that we may more fully14 enjoy the protests of one for whom you 'care nothing'—of one whose lips have pressed—your hand."
He opened the door by which Chunda Lal had gone out and turned again to Miska. Her eyes looked unnaturally15 dark by contrast with the pallor of her face.
Chunda Lal had betrayed her. She no longer doubted it. For he had not dared to meet her glance. His fear of Fo-Hi had overcome his love for her … and Stuart had been treacherously16 seized somewhere in the corridors and rendered helpless by the awful art of the thug.
"There is a brief interval," hissed17 the evil voice. "Chunda Lal is securing him to the frame and baring the soles of his feet for the caresses18 of the rod."
Suddenly, from somewhere outside the room, came the sound of dull, regular blows … then, a smothered19 moan!
Miska sprang forward and threw herself upon her knees before Fo-Hi, clutching at his robe frantically20.
"Ah! merciful God! he is there! Spare him! spare him! No more—no more!"
I know not by what trick he hoped to 'deal with' Chunda Lal. But, as
I informed you, Chunda Lal was forewarned."
"You 'care nothing' for this man. Why do you tremble?"
"Oh!" she wailed24 piteously. "I cannot bear it … oh, I cannot bear it! Do what you like with me, but spare him. Ah! you have no mercy."
Fo-Hi handed her the hammer for striking the gong.
"It is you who have no mercy," he replied. "I have asked but one gift. The sound of the gong will end Dr. Stuart's discomfort25 … and will mean that you voluntarily accept my offer. What! you hesitate?" A stifled26 scream rang out sharply.
"Ah, yes! yes!"
Miska ran and struck the gong, then staggered back to the diwan and fell upon it, hiding her face in her hands. The sounds of torture ceased.
Fo-Hi closed the door and stood looking at her where she lay.
"I permit you some moments of reflection," he said, "in order that you may compose yourself to receive the addresses which I shall presently have the honour, and joy, of making to you. Yes—this door is unlocked." He threw the keys on the table. "I respect your promise … and Chunda Lal guards the outer exits."
He opened the further door, by which he had entered, and went out.
Miska, through the fingers of her shielding hands, watched him go.
When he had disappeared she sprang up, clenching27 her teeth, and her face was contorted with anguish. She began to move aimlessly about the room, glancing at the many strange objects on the big table and fearfully at the canopied28 chair beside which hung the bronze bell. Finally:
"Oh, Chunda Lal! Chunda Lal!" she moaned, and threw herself face downward on the diwan, sobbing29 wildly.
So she lay, her whole body quivering with the frenzy30 of her emotions, and as she lay there, inch by inch, cautiously, the nearer door began to open. Chunda Lal looked in.
Finding the room to be occupied only by Miska, he crossed rapidly to the diwan, bending over her with infinite pity and tenderness.
"Miska!" he whispered softly.
As though an adder31 had touched her, Miska sprang to her feet—and back from the Hindu. Her eyes flashed fiercely.
"Ah! you! you!" she cried at him, with a repressed savagery32 that spoke33 of the Oriental blood in her veins34. "Do not speak to me—look at me! Do not come near me! I hate you! God! how I hate you!"
"Miska! Miska!" he said beseechingly—"you pierce my heart! you kill me! Can you not understand——"
"Go! go!"
She drew back from him, clenching and unclenching her jewelled fingers and glaring madly into his eyes.
"Look, Miska!" He took the gold chain and amulet35 from his bosom36. "Your token! Can you not understand! Yah Allah! how little you trust me— and I would die for one glance of your eyes!
"He—Stuart Sahib—has gone, gone long since!"
"Ah! Chunda Lal!"
Miska swayed dizzily and extended her hands towards him. Chunda Lal glanced fearfully about him.
"Did I not," he whispered, with an intense ardour in his soft voice,— "did I not lay my life, my service, all I have, at your feet? Did I not vow37 to serve you in the name of Bhowani! He is long since gone to bring his friends—who are searching from house to house along the river. At any moment they may be here!"
Miska dropped weakly upon her knees before him and clasped his hand.
"Chunda Lal, my friend! Oh, forgive me!" Her voice broke. "Forgive …"
Chunda Lal raised her gently.
"Not upon your knees to me, Miska. It was a little thing to do—for you. Did I not tell you that he had cast his eyes upon you? Mine was the voice you heard to cry out. Ah! you do not know; it is to gain time that I seem to serve him! Only this, Miska"—he revealed the blade of a concealed38 knife—"stand between Fo-Hi and—you! Had I not read it in his eyes!"
He raised his glance upward frantically.
"Jey Bhowani! give me strength, give me courage! For if I fail …"
He glared at her passionately39, clutching his bosom; then, pressing the necklet to his lips, he concealed it again, and bent40, whispering urgently:
"Listen again—I reveal it to you without price or hope of reward, for I know there is no love in your heart to give, Miska; I know that it takes you out of my sight for always. But I tell you what I learn in the house of Abdul Rozan. Your life is your own, Miska! With the needle"—yet closer he bent to her ear and even softer he spoke—"he pricks41 your white skin—no more! The vial he sends contains a harmless cordial!"
"Chunda Lal!"
Miska swayed again dizzily, clutching at the Hindu for support.
"Quick! fly!" he said, leading her to the door. "I will see he does not pursue!"
"No, no! you shall shed no blood for me! Not even his. You come also!"
"And if he escape, and know that I was false to him, he will call me back, and I shall be dragged to those yellow eyes, though I am a thousand miles away! Inshalla! those eyes! No—I must strike swift, or he robs me of my strength."
For a long moment Miska hesitated.
"Then, I also remain, Chunda Lal, my friend! We will wait—and watch -and listen for the bells—here—that tell they are in the grounds of the house."
"Ah, Miska!" the glance of the Hindu grew fearful—"you are clever—but he is the Evil One! I fear for you. Fly now. There is yet time …"
A faint sound attracted Miska's attention. Placing a quivering finger to her lips, she gently thrust Chunda Lal out into the corridor.
"He returns!" she whispered: "If I call—come to me, my friend. But we have not long to wait!"
She closed the door.
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1
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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6
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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7
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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15
unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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16
treacherously
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| 背信弃义地； 背叛地； 靠不住地； 危险地 | |
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17
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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18
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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19
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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suavely
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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27
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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canopied
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| adj. 遮有天篷的 | |
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29
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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adder
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| n.蝰蛇；小毒蛇 | |
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savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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34
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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35
amulet
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| n.护身符 | |
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36
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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37
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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38
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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39
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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40
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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41
pricks
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| 刺痛( prick的名词复数 )； 刺孔； 刺痕； 植物的刺 | |
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