“Well, you certainly are a dandy,” said the man, examining the contents of his package. “I never seen anything like it. And those big hands, too.”
“My hands obey the skill of my mind. And here, under the shadow of the Early, I can work with purer courage. This is the perfection of a place. It was the idea of genius to come here. Hold, let me examine the way before thou goest.”
“Aw, there won’t be any body in the garden at this time o’ night, and at this time o’ year.”
“Nay, but it is the wise man who leaves no loophole for mistake,” said the Hindu, with practical caution.
He blew out the light and stepped in darkness to the entrance with the air of one who would refresh his soul by gazing at the stars and wiping out the trivialities of the day. After he had looked at the heavens, his eyes fell with piercing swiftness upon the shadows of the garden, its bushes, manlike or animal-like in the night.
It was as complete a piece of acting as though a large audience had been there to see, but all thrown away on silence and solitude.
“Coast clear?” said a voice behind him.
“All is well,” said the Swami. “Go forth to fortune.”
The door closed softly, and Ram Juna sought the repose he had earned.