The memo he had just finished was a most conclusive one; it seemed to him unanswerable, and that the Department would have trouble in disputing his facts and figures. He had not since he sat down to his work given another thought to the juggler, and he almost started as a figure appeared in the veranda at the open window.
“Ah, Rujub, is it you? I have just finished my work. Come in; is Rabda with you?”
“She will remain outside until I want her,” the juggler said as he entered and squatted himself on the floor. “I am not going to juggle, sahib. With us there are two sorts of feats; there are those that are performed by sleight of hand or by means of assistance. These are the juggler's tricks we show in the verandas and compounds of the white sahibs, and in the streets of the cities. There are others that are known only to the higher order among us, that we show only on rare occasions. They have come to us from the oldest times, and it is said they were brought by wise men from Egypt; but that I know not.”
“I have always been interested in juggling, and have seen many things that I cannot understand,” Bathurst said. “I have seen the basket trick done on the road in front of the veranda, as well as in other places, and I cannot in any way account for it.”
The juggler took from his basket a piece of wood about two feet in length and some four inches in diameter.
“You see this?” he said.
Bathurst took it in his hand. “It looks like a bit sawn off a telegraph pole,” he said.
“Will you come outside, sahib?”
The night was very dark, but the lamp on the table threw its light through the window onto the drive in front of the veranda. Rujub took with him a piece of wood about nine inches square, with a soft pad on the top. He went out in the drive and placed the piece of pole upright, and laid the wood with the cushion on the top.
“Now will you stand in the veranda a while?”