Guns of the Gods Part 10

She had not done thinking when d.i.c.k Blaine returned unexpectedly for early lunch and showed her a bag-full of coa.r.s.ely powdered quartz.

"There's color there," he said jubilantly. "Rather more than merely color!

It's not time to talk yet, but I think I've found a vein that may lead somewhere.

Then won't Gungadhura gloat?"

She told him at great length about Yasmini's visit, dwelling on every detail of it, he listening like a man at a play, for Tess had the gift of clear description.

"Go a journey with her, if you feel like it, Tess," he advised. "You have a rotten time here alone all day, and I can't do much to 'liven it. Take sensible precautions but have a good time anyway you can."

Because Yasmini had monopolized imagination she told him last of all, at lunch, about the commissioner's call, rehearsing that, too, detail by detail, word for word.

"Wants me to find the treasure, does he, and call the game on Gungadhura?

What does he take me for? One of his stool-pigeons? If it's a question of percentage, I'd prefer one from the maharajah than from him. If I ever stumble on it, Gungadhura shall know first go off the bat, and I'll see the British Government in h.e.l.l before I'll answer questions!"

"They'd never believe Gungadhura hadn't rewarded you," said Tess.

"What of it?" he demanded. "What do we care what they believe? And supposing it were true, what then? Just at present I'm in partners.h.i.+p with Gungadhura."

Chapter Four

Jinendra's Smile

Deep broods the calm where the cooing doves are mating And shadows quiver noiseless 'neath the courtyard trees, Cool keeps the gloom where the suppliants are waiting Begging little favors of Jinendra on their knees.

Peace over all, and the consciousness of nearness, Charity removing the remoteness of the G.o.ds; Spirit of compa.s.sion breathing with new clearness "There's a limit set to khama; there's a surcease from the rods."

"Blessed were the few, who trim the lights of kindness, Toiling in the temple for the love of one and all, If it were not for hypocrisy and gluttony and blindness,"

Smiles the image of Jinendra on the courtyard wall.

"The law .... is like a python after monkey's in the tree-tops."

Yasmini, hooded like a bandit in the camel-hair cloak, resumed an air of leisurely dignity in keeping with the unhurried habit of Sialpore the moment she was through the gate. It was just as well she did, for Mukhum Da.s.s, the money-lender, followed by a sweating lean parasite on foot, was riding a smart mule on his customary morning round to collect interest from victims and oversee securities.

He was a fat, squat, slimy-looking person in a black alpaca coat, with a black umbrella for protection from the sun, and an air of sour dissatisfaction for general business purposes--an air that was given the lie direct by a small, acquisitive nose and bright brown eyes that surely never made bad bargains. Yasmini's hooded figure brought him to a halt just at the corner, where the little road below the Blaines' wall joined the wider road that led down-hill. Business is business, and time a serious matter only for those who sign promissory notes; he drew rein without compunction.

"This house is yours?" she asked, and he nodded, his sharp eyes s.h.i.+ning like an animal's, determined to recognize his questioner.

"There is a miscalculating son of lies who brings a lawsuit to get the t.i.tle?"

He nodded again--a man of few words except when words exacted interest.

"Dhulap Singh, is it not? He is a secret agent of Gungadhura."

"How do you know? Why should the maharajah want my property?"

"He hunts high and low for the Sialpore treasure. Jengal Singh, who built this house, was in the confidence of Gungadhura's uncle, and a priest says there will be a clue found to the treasure beneath the floor of this house."

"A likely tale indeed!"

"Very well, then--lose thine house!"

Yasmini turned on a disdainful heel and started down-hill. Mukhum Da.s.s called after her, but she took no notice. He sent the sweating parasite to bring her back, but she shook him off with execrations. Mukhum Da.s.s turned his mule and rode down-hill after her.

"True information has its price," he said. "Tell me your name."

"That also has its price."

He cackled dryly. "Natives cost money only to their owners--on a hundi."

(Promissory note.)

"Nevertheless there is a price."

"In advance? I will give a half-rupee!"

Once more Yasmini resumed her way down-hill. Again Mukhum Da.s.s rode after her.

"At any rate name the price."

"It is silence firstly; second, a security for silence."

"The first part is easy."

"Nay, difficult. A woman can keep silence, but men chatter like the apes, in every coffee shop."

His bargain-driver's eyes watched hers intently, unable to detect the slightest clue that should start him guessing. He was trying to identify a man, not a woman.

"How shall I give security for silence?" he asked.

"I already hold it."

"How? What? Where?"

The money-lender betrayed a glimpse of sheer pugnacity that seemed to amuse his tormentor.

"Send thy jackal out of ear-shot, tiger."

He snapped at his parasite angrily, and the man went away to sit down. Then:

"Where are the t.i.tle-deeds of the house you say you own?" she asked him suddenly.

Mukhum Da.s.s kept silence, and tried to smother the raging anger in his eyes.

"Was it Mukhum Da.s.s or another, who went to the priest in the temple of Jinendra on a certain afternoon and requested intercession to the G.o.d in order that a t.i.tle-deed might be recovered, that fell down the nullah when the snakes frightened a man's mule and he himself fell into the road? Or was it another accident that split that car of thine in two pieces?"

"Priests cackle like old women," growled the money-lender.