The Native Born or, The Rajah's People

stance, Mrs. Berry with her marriageable if somewhat plain daughter, and many more women besides to whom the beautiful girl was of necessity an unforgivable opponent. The more

as themselves, but better accoutred for success. Truly, she had made no bid for their favor, choosing to stand alone and without their support; but even had she done so it

rd-struggled between a certain admiration for her and a decided disapproval of her action and its results. Yet Stafford at least was a soldier before he was a conventionalist, and her bold, well-played comedy in the temple of Vishnu, told simply, but with fire and energy, could not fail to stir to flame the embers of his own daring. From that time he ceased to rivet his attention to the other end of the table, where Lois was sitting, and Beatrice was conscious that she had won the first move in the great game which she had set herself to play. The next day the whole Station was made aware of the startling change in the Rajah's attitude and the means by which it had been brought about, but no o

hed, and inside Life and Death had faced eac

n both faces was written the same determination-a determination curiously tempered and moulded by the character of the man himself. On Behar Asor's furrowed, withered face it was resolve, armed with treachery and all the hundred and one weapons of oriental cu

eriod in human life which was gone for ever, a period of mad fanaticism and passionate clinging to the Old in defiance of the New. Here the New was triumphant. Hands still living had raised the mighty golden dome; the fountain whose waters bubbled up from the Sacred Tank within the temple was his own cr

an's standpoint. A very little thing will make him turn on his heel and look at a piece of the landscape which he has hitherto chosen to ignore or despise, and probably acknowledge that it is finer than his hitherto obstinately retained outlook. A very little thing-like Columbus' egg-if one only knew just what it was!

become a prison from which I must free myself. The very air I breathe is heav

and it is I, with my mistaken wisdom, who have opened thy path to them. It was I who taught thee their tongue, their kno

hment. It is th

ou that I have hidden thee like a miser his treasure, in the dark, unseen places, for a whim? Son, I have suffered as I pray thou mayst not have to suffer, and I have within my heart a serpent of hatred whose sting I would thou couldst feel." He paused, biting his lip as though the pain

Nor do I believe what thou sayest. This people i

d feel with the body-that alone can bring true wisdom. And I have seen and felt! Callest thou a people 'good' who dr

ngh stop

st thou?" h

own caste and prejudice to welcome them, drank in their Thought and Culture, trembled on the brink of their Religion. Already the path had been broken for him. His mother's sister had married out of her race-an Englishman-I know not how it came about-and their child followed in her steps. I will tell thee how the young man

; it was she who sang to them-" He ground his teeth in a sudden outburst of rage. "Mad, mad was I! Mad to trust a woman, and to trust the stranger! Son, the night came when my wife sang no more to me, and the stranger's shadow ceased to darken my threshold. Three years I sought them-three years; then one night she came back to me. He had cast her

an?" Nehal Sing

or with that act of treachery he drew back the veil from my blind

ar waters. His own face he saw there-and another which was neither bad, cruel, nor hypocritical, but wholly beau

r see thee dea

ill judge them

noble, I will serve and love them. If they be bad, as

hand that swept upward, the flash of steel falling swiftly through th

learn treachery from treachery is a poor lesson. And thou canst

ing and staring, against the marble ba

restall the sword of Fate. For, mark me, the hour will come

like a curious twisted shadow amids

me back to him-and it came back often, springing up out of his subconscious self like an evil, slinking shade that could never be wholly brought to rest. Yet he went on resolutely. One barrier had given way-one more remained, and he flung himself against it with a reckless determination which would have overcome any resistance. But there was none. The old priest who had been his guide and teacher welc

ght, and I see him stand beneath the high sun like a blade of withered grass. I see him go forth in the morning with laughter on his lips, and at nightfall his eyes run blood. A voice calleth him from the thicket, and wheresoever the voice calleth him he goeth. He standeth on the banks of Holy Ganges, and behold! the waters burst from their course and pour westwa

dred reflections from the temple he seemed to see each separate picture as the monotonous voice called it up before his mind, and always it was his own face which shimmered among the shado

ords have drawn the veil

at seemed fixed far ahead on a world visible only to himself. Neither in his words or manner had there been any anger or reproach, but a perfect resignation which walled him off from every human emotion, and Nehal Singh went hi

had filled his life and bound his horizon. Now that was all over. The more perfect reality lay before him and was his. The dim figures of his childhood